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#exposing the fake media
awesomecooperlove · 8 months
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😳🤔😂
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parvuls · 2 years
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weird ass fake relationship au where jack is sternly talked into fake dating influencer bitty for pr after coming out because bitty is a social media king and jack looks like he's contemplating homicide whenever he gives an interview
needless to say they get off to a rocky start
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Cheap Deep Fake Masks👇
Do you know who is who or what is what?🤔
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redvelvetwishtree · 6 months
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Genuine question, but is it ok for a white atheist to care about what’s happening in Palestine? Because it’s not like this affects me, and I don’t want to offend/harm anyone.
Why wouldn't it be okay...
Is this about social media's obsession with laying out weird rules for what others can or can't post... I don't subscribe to them at all.
You can post about all the injustices happening in the world. If you feel like your community isn't very aware about these things, all the more reason to post and talk. Being an atheist or white doesn't make it problematic to talk about these things nor does it disqualify you from talking about genocide, ethnic cleansing, murder etc...
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This may be a controversial take, but I think that the only right way to do the whole flippant/non affectionate/deathly serious love interest thing is if you eventually flip the script. If person A fits the description above then person B has GOT to eventually get tired of it. How does person A react when they realize that maybe their actions were a little too harsh this time and person B is not brushing it off? How does person A react when they realize that person B is tired of their bullshit and is actively distancing themselves from Person A? If person A does not slowly start to lose their composure because they realize that person B is actually, genuinely, wholeheartedly slipping away this time then there is no point imo. I want to see what happens when someone who is allergic to their true feelings is faced with the choice of "be heartfelt for once in your life" or "let the person you love leave you for good because you aren't brave enough to confront your emotions".
I want to see Person A sobbing and screaming out a confession that's said in a scratchy voice because the screaming has torn up their throat. I want an awkward and repetitive and desperate confession that would be better described as word vomit because of the lack of structure. I want person A on their knees as they plead for person B to forgive them.
Like, guys, come oooon.
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applecherry108 · 1 year
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I am too old for this shit.
Saw the dumbest fucking discourse on Twitter. About someone complaining that a tag they used was flagged as harassment on ao3 and that the story would be hidden until they changed it.
“[ ] shippers dni eat glass and die”
Deadass they and their followers were so confused about how that’s harassment.
I don’t know how to explain to you that telling anyone to “eat glass and die” is a bad thing to do no matter what fictional characters they ship.
​Your bad actions are not excused simply because you have the perceived moral high ground.
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jodienotmedia · 2 years
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Jodie NOT media called out by LASD deputy Parga for pretending to be a NURSE. Jodie casillas claims to be a nurse in torrance nursing home but, never works. It’s obvious to everyone she sleeps all day and hunts 25, 30 cops all night with her boyfriend daniel saulmon who always complains about the price of cocaine.
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alliepsmithh · 6 months
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israel posted a video of them giving water bottles to palestinians on a beach, then destroyed their luggage and shot at them after they stopped recording.
israel posted a photo of one of their soldiers "assisting" with an elderly man, then they shot him twice in the back and killed him.
in 2015, the idf posted pr photos of an israeli soldier giving water to an elderly palestinian woman, only for them to execute her after the photo was taken.
in 2005, an idf soldier emptied his rifle into a 13-year-old palestinian schoolgirl. he said he would have done the same thing if she was 3-years-old. he was acquitted of all charged.
israel claimed that hamas beheaded 40 israeli babies and then a month later cut off power to a palestinian hospital where premature babies were on incubators.
israel bombed a group of children collecting rainwater.
israel shot and killed two palestinian children playing with their scooter.
israel shot a hard of hearing girl in the face with a stun grenade and broke her jaw.
israel is using bombs with blades that are designed to cause maximum damage to the person in range.
israel forced medical workers at al-Nasr medical center to leave babies in incubators in order to evacuate the hospital they were bombing.
israel turned off power to hospitals in palestine, forcing nurses and doctors to use their phone flashlights when treating patients.
israel raised their flag over Al Shifa hospital.
israel has blown up the chambers of the palestinian legislative council.
israel targeted a "suspicious vehicle containing several terrorists”, meanwhile the only people in the car were three girls, ages 10, 12, and 14, their grandmother, and their mother. the only survivor was the three girls' mother.
israel planted a copy of mein kampf in a children's bedroom in a gazan house they claim hamas was hiding in.
israel poured fake blood onto the floor of an israeli child's bedroom and claimed hamas killed them.
israeli soldiers posted a video of them dancing on gazan graves.
israel posted a video showing a calendar in a palestinian children's hospital was a hamas guard list because it was written in arabic.
israel was using white phosphorus on hospitals.
israel bombed a refugee camp.
israel has burned olive trees in palestine.
israel has put cement into the water supply of palestine.
israel claimed that they found tunnels under Al Shifa hospital, only for it to be exposed that those tunnels are actually in sweden.
israel built a bunker and command room under Al Shifa hospital in 1983, only for them to now say that they are hamas tunnels.
israeli police arrested an israeli high school teacher, who posted on facebook expressing sympathy with palestinian civilians who have been killed.
israeli soldiers filmed themselves throwing a stun grenade into a palestinian mosque.
we are witnessing a genocide in real time framed under the guise of stopping hamas. israel has been terrorizing palestine for as long as israel has existed, but their access to technology and social media has made it much easier to fool people into supporting them.
meanwhile, noah schnapp is posting that zionism is sexy and celebrities are standing with israel. just absolutely twisted shit.
edit: for those who would like sources, my twitter is alliiesmith. i have retweeted everything i’ve mentioned. i apologize for not providing this sooner
edit 2: i’ve had some people in the replies and reposts pointing out that linking my twitter seems like promotion. i just wanted to clear up that that was not my intention. i’ve been retweeting resources and news much faster than i’m able to add to this post, and i thought that my twitter profile could be something of a hub for information. i don’t care if you follow me, but i think scrolling through and seeing what i’ve retweeted could be helpful.
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vanteguccir · 20 days
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Fake Smile | Chris Sturniolo
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Chris Sturniolo x reader
Summary: Where Chris records a TikTok with Tara after many requests from both fandoms, but fans reacted contrary to what he expected, generating questioning thoughts in Y/N.
Warning: Crying, comparison, fighting.
Requested?: Yes, by anon
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
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The morning sun beamed beyond the half-open curtains in the living room, painting the room with orange and gold tones. Sitting at the kitchen table, Y/N immersed herself in her books, trying to focus on her notes as the sounds of Nick and Matt echoed around the house.
At that moment, Chris was absent. He had gone to Tara's house, a new friend of the triplets and, consequently, of Y/N, who had recently become a frequent figure in their lives. The objective was to record a video for Tara's channel since after the large group's social media post together, both fandoms started begging for collabs.
As Y/N immersed herself in her studies, a notification flashed on her phone screen. The girl looked up at her device, seeing the new message.
pretty boy: hi baby!! look, we did a tiktok! I look so cool: link.
A smile curved Y/N's lips as she clicked on the link, curious to see the result of one of Chris and Tara's creations. The video started, and she immediately recognized the song as one of her favorites, humming softly as her eyes captured the funny dance and interaction between the two.
A laugh escaped her lips when she saw Chris shaking his head in the lyrics "Would you get down on knees for me?", remembering all the times the song played when they were together, and exactly in this part, Chris always got down on his knees in front of Y/N, making her laugh.
For a moment, Y/N allowed herself to relax and enjoy the scene. It was a genuine demonstration of their new friendship, and Y/N felt grateful to be part of that dynamic.
However, her joy was momentary.
As the video came to an end, Y/N scrolled through the comments, eager to see the reaction of Tara's followers. What she found left her cold.
Among the funny and complimentary comments, there was a barrage of messages that cut like sharp knives. Ardent fans of both Tara and Chris were heavily shipping them, completely ignoring Chris's long-standing and public relationship with Y/N.
"Chris and Tara are so cute together!"
"I so wanted them to be a couple 😭"
"I'm sorry, Y/N, but you don't hold a candle to Tara. Chris deserves someone like her."
The words echoed in Y/N's mind, like a distant echo of an approaching storm. She felt a tightness in her chest, a mixture of sadness, anger, and confusion.
How could they be so cruel? How could they judge their relationship based on fragments of a distorted reality? Y/N felt vulnerable, exposed to the relentless cruelty of the virtual world.
Her thumb moved automatically as she left the comment box, sliding the screen to the TikTok below the one she was watching, craving a quick distraction. But her hope was suddenly dashed when she saw that the next video was an edit of Chris and Tara's TikTok and all the others after.
She knew the fans were fast, but at that moment, she wanted them to be as slow as possible.
Y/N closed the app with a heavy sigh, fighting to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. It was difficult not to let the strangers' words and opinions get to her.
With a determined effort to forget about it momentarily, Y/N turned her attention back to the books, seeking refuge in the comforting familiarity of the printed pages, forgetting to answer Chris.
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The day was coming to an end. In the room shared by Y/N and Chris, the atmosphere was filled with a silent energy, interrupted only by the gentle slide of Y/N's fingers over her phone screen, and the low sounds of various videos.
She was lying in their bed, having already taken a comforting shower, but her mind was still shrouded in a haze of dark thoughts. As she scrolled through her TikTok's For You, romantic edits of Chris and Tara popped up with disturbing frequency. Y/N's expression was a mixture of sadness and self-questioning, her eyes reflecting an inner storm.
She felt her mind defeat her with thoughts of comparison. She knew she would never reach Tara's beauty, humor, and even body.
The heavy atmosphere was interrupted by the sound of the door opening gently. Chris entered the room, radiating an aura of euphoria. His eyes sparkled with joy, and a smile spread across his face with ease.
"Hi, my pretty girl!" Chris greeted, closing the door behind him. "You won't believe how amazing the video with Tara turned out. I can't wait for her to post it so you can see it!"
"Hey, baby! I'm so happy you had fun." Y/N looked up from her cell, forcing a smile on her lips, trying with all her might not to reveal her current state - the last thing she wanted to do was ruin Chris's excitement, but the sadness still hovered in her eyes.
Chris immediately noticed the change in her expression and approached the bed, worried.
"What happened, babe?" He asked in a worried tone, frowning and sitting down next to her.
She just shook her head slightly, unable to put her tumultuous thoughts into words. Chris reached out to caress her face gently, seeking to comfort her with his loving touch.
"You didn't answer my text, I really thought something was happening... You know you can tell me anything, right?" Chris continued gently. He didn't want to force anything out of her.
Y/N nodded, feeling a lump form in her throat. Before he could say anything else, Chris noticed the phone in her hand with almost silent sounds escaping from the speaker, leaning over to peer at the screen.
Romantic edits of Chris and Tara filled Y/N's device. He swallowed hard, instantly connecting the dots.
Chris's comforting touch on Y/N's face seemed to turn cool. His eyes narrowed slightly, and a sigh escaped his lips before he could control it.
"Y/N, are you really upset because of these silly edits?" The boy questioned, his voice filled with disbelief. His touch against the warm skin disappeared within seconds, the boy removing his hand from her face before sitting down on the bed.
Y/N flinched at the accusation implicit in his words, feeling suddenly exposed and vulnerable. Tears threatened to overflow her eyes as she struggled to find a coherent response.
"It's not just because of the edits..." She, her voice shaking with turbulent emotions. "Did you see the comments? They-"
Chris shook his head impatiently, cutting her off abruptly, frustration beginning to seep into his expression. He couldn't understand why something as trivial as fan edits could affect his girlfriend so much.
"Y/N, this is ridiculous!" He continued firmly. "These edits and comments don't mean anything. They're just fan jokes. It's not the end of the world." His voice came out louder than before, his posture now rigid.
His words hit Y/N like a sharp knife, making her feel even more inadequate and misunderstood. Anger bubbled inside her, a simmering mix of resentment and hurt.
"You don't understand, Chris!" She snapped, her voice shaking slightly. Her right hand worked to lock the screen of her phone in one quick motion, tossing it aside. "This isn't just about the edits. It's about how I feel about being compared to Tara, about how it's making me feel inferior to her! How would you feel if people started wanting to see me with a man other than you? While I'm in a relationship with you!"
Chris rolled his eyes dismissively, his patience beginning to wear thin at the intensity of Y/N's emotions.
“You’re so tiring sometimes, Y/N.” He snapped without thinking, his voice tinged with irritation, not giving a damn about how his girlfriend felt. "I can't deal with all this insecurity all the time. It's fucking exhausting."
The words hit Y/N like a punch to the gut, leaving her breathless, her rigid posture quickly crumbling. She felt tears run down her face without force as the painful realization settled in her heart.
She was tiring. She was insecure. She was too much for him to handle.
The pain of rejection burned in her chest as she retrieved her phone again, ripping the comforter off her legs. Her lips were pressed into a thin line tightly in an attempt to stop the ugly sobs that she wanted to let out. She wouldn't give herself the luxury of showing Chris how much he hurt her.
The girl got up from the bed in one quick movement, grabbing her pillow and heading towards the bedroom door.
"Where are you going?" Chris's voice echoed harshly behind her, his body rising from the mattress quickly.
"I'll sleep in the living room." Y/N responded curtly, turning the handle with ease before walking through the door, slamming it, feeling more alone than ever amidst the multitude of turbulent emotions.
She could feel her heart being crushed a little more when she didn't hear Chris call for her again, let alone try to reach her.
The stairs leading to the living room were silent, and her pillow clutched to her chest as a last vestige of comfort in a world that seemed to be falling apart around her. Each step up echoed like a lonely echo in an emotional void that seemed to swallow her whole.
Upon reaching the living room, Y/N found refuge on the empty couch. She curled into the soft upholstery, hugging the pillow tightly as tears continued to roll down her cheeks silently. The phone rested next to her, emitting a dim light that wouldn't turn off, almost begging her to pick it up again.
Hours dragged by like centuries as Y/N fought the ghosts of her own mind.
At some point, she had given up resisting and was on her TikTok again. The algorithm seemed to hate her, delivering her frequent videos of Chris and Tara, which were like a sharp dagger in her heart.
They would really look beautiful together.
Dawn fell heavily upon her, but sleep refused to welcome her into its comforting arms. Instead, she found herself trapped in a whirlwind of torturous thoughts, her mind pounding incessantly with doubts and questions about her relationship with Chris.
Until her brain shuts down completely, letting tiredness win.
At 3 a.m., in the darkness of the night, a familiar figure appeared at the entrance to the room. Chris was there, his tired face etched with worry and regret.
His eyes quickly found Y/N's figure lying on the couch, already asleep, curled up and shivering slightly from the cold. Her eyes were closed, but he could see the swelling that surrounded them, the traces of tears on her cheeks and her still damp face. Next to her, her phone repeatedly played one of the videos she had watched before falling asleep.
A lump formed in Chris's throat. He intensely blamed himself for not having thought before acting and, much less, noticing how much his actions had affected his girlfriend.
With hesitant steps, he approached her, feeling the weight of his own anguish on his shoulders.
Gently, Chris turned off her phone, cutting the endless cycle of pain that had consumed Y/N. He then crouched down beside her, studying her peaceful face with a mixture of love and pain.
With a resigned sigh, the boy carefully took her into his arms, hooking them around her back and behind her knees, feeling the weight of her fragile body against his own chest. Y/N hummed softly in response to his touch but didn't fully wake up.
Chris carried her down the stairs and back to their bedroom, where the soft light from the lamp bathed the room in yellow tones. Tenderly, he placed her on the soft mattress, covering her with the comforter carefully so as not to wake her.
Y/N shifted slightly under Chris's touch and the new surface beneath her limbs, her eyebrows furrowing in an expression of discomfort. She looked restless, as if she were immersed in a nightmare.
Chris watched her for a moment, feeling the weight of his own harsh words weigh on him like an anchor. He knew he had hurt Y/N deeply, and the pain of seeing her suffer was almost unbearable.
With a heavy sigh, he sat down next to her, his hand reaching for her with a tentative touch. Y/N stirred slightly, her eyes finally slowly opening to meet Chris's. She fought the urge to get up and leave the room again, her anger at Chris's actions and sadness in her mind, making her want to avoid him.
For a moment, they simply stared at each other, sharing a silent understanding that transcended words, Y/N making the decision to let him say what he wanted.
“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Chris muttered, his voice thick with regret. "I was insensitive and selfish. I didn't want to hurt you, I acted on impulse and completely without thinking. This whole situation is not silly if it hurts and bothers you, and I promise that we can talk better about what you saw and how you felt, and solve this together... Just please, give me this chance?"
Y/N blinked slowly, her eyes locked on Chris's as she processed his words. For a moment, she felt the weight of hurt and disappointment pressing against her, but then she saw the sincerity in Chris's eyes, the pure, unconditional love he had always offered her.
And in that moment, she knew that forgiveness was the only good choice to make. With a sigh, she squeezed Chris's hand tenderly, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders.
"Just one chance. I want you to fix what you did and do it right this time."
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My requests are open! Please read my rules before sending anything ♡
And remember to treat people with kindness always!
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~ taglist:
@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @ksskianshd @soimightlikeoldmen69 @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @thebottledwatersupplier @soso-scarlettolivia @sturnolio-luvs @bitchydragonparadise @lvrsturn @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @patscorner @m0r94n @blahbel668 @strnilolo
(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)
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hellfiremunsonn · 19 days
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Tender Touches. Eddie Munson x Reader
Tender Touches
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I DO NOT ALLOW MY WRITING TO BE REPUBLISHED ANYWHERE OTHER THAN MY OWN BLOG WITHOUT MY CONSENT
Summary: A typical Tuesday that leads to you and Eddie finally confessing your feelings for each other, and finally, losing that virgin status.
18 + IF YOU ARE NOT 18 OR OLDER DO NOT READ OR INTERACT WITH MY WRITING. IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR MINORS. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME.
Warnings: fem!reader, reader has a vagina, virgin reader, virgin Eddie, hes such a teasing little shit, protected sex, first times, 'fem' pet names (IF THERES ANYTHING I MISSED LET ME KNOW)
AN: I CAN WRITE? WHO KNEW!!!  NOT REALLY PROOF READ (And shout out to my bby boy @rowanswriting for giving this a read through for me to make sure it wasn't absolute garbage! love u <3)
Wordcount: 4.6k
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It's a normal Tuesday afternoon. You're at eddies, kneeled in front of his tv that he's moved into his room so the two of you can lay in his bed and watch movies instead of squishing together on the couch. Not that you didn't mind squishing up with him, it was actually one of your favourite activities when the two of you weren't constantly teasing each other to cover up the fact that you both were head over heels for one another. 
You can hear Eddie bumbling around in the kitchen, muttering to himself while you sift through the pile of tapes. Some newly rented, some classics he already owned, so it was just a matter of deciding on watching something new or rewatching something just cause. You decided on The Lost Boys. You had only seen it once before when Eddie rented it for halloween one year, but never made it through the whole thing because you had fallen asleep. You had come down with a cold only two days before and were upset you couldn't do your halloween traditions, but naturally that didn't stop Eddie from showing up at your door step, with snacks, and drinks to make you feel better along with the movie and cuddles from him that could never compare to anyone else's. 
You were so lost in thought that the entire time you've been sat going through the movies you didn't realize Eddie had been watching you. Stood in the doorway with a stupid smile on his face while he watched you quietly talk to yourself about each movie. 
He tries to hide his laugh by covering it with a cough, pretending to clear his throat and slightly startling you in the process. "Pick one yet?"
You squeaked slightly at his voice. "Shit Ed's you scared me"
He laughed, laying down on his bed, setting the bowl of popcorn down in the middle, and putting your drinks on the table next to him. "It's not my fault you're so jumpy all the time" 
"I swear I only get this bad around you" you say with a fake sigh, sliding the movie out of its cardboard case and into the VHS machine. 
"That sounds like a you problem dude" he says flicking a piece of popcorn at you. It hits you in the forehead and lands in your lap. 
"Rude" you mumble, picking up the piece of popcorn and eating it before standing up with a stretch. Arms over your head with your fingers interlocked; your cropped band t-shirt rising up, to where it's about a centimetre away from fully exposing your boobs but the stretch feels too good for you to notice. Eddie notices though, and he almost fully chokes and gags on his own spit at the sight of the soft skin of your underboob. 
You crawl your way onto Eddies bed and sit next to him, pulling the popcorn bowl closer to you, and taking a tiny handful. Eddies body is ridged next to you, but you don't seem to notice.
You make it about ten minutes into the movie before your fourth sigh of the night makes Eddie take the bowl of popcorn from you and turns to face you. "Alright, what's your issue?" he asks.
"What? What are you talking about?" you sit up, pushing yourself up with your hands and crossing your legs under you. 
"You've been sighing every five seconds like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders, so what is it" he pokes your shoulder a little too hard and you wince but smile nonetheless. 
"If I ask you something stupid do you promise not to laugh?" you gnaw at your bottom lip, looking up at him with soft eyes. 
"Have I ever?" he says quickly, a smug smile on his face.
"Often actually" you tease.
"No but seriously, you can tell me anything" he says reaching over to give your thigh a gentle pat and squeeze. 
"Okay, um, do you think I'm hot?" you can feel the heat of embarrassment rise from your stomach up your neck to your cheeks. 
Eddie stares at you. You almost think he might actually be frozen, and you're about to ask him if he's okay when he exhales loudly. 
"I'm not sure what you're asking me here" he says with a small laugh. "Are you asking if I'm attracted to you orrrrr?" he raises a brow.
"Well, no" you furrow your brows. "Not exactly, but if you are attracted to me, that might help?" You groan, dropping your head into your hands. "ugh, okay" you said loudly and taking a deep breath. Pretending that it will help you feel more confident with your words.
"When you look at me, or when we first met did, did you think 'wow she's hot' or do I just not look like that?" the words tumble out of your mouth, almost too quickly that Eddie slightly struggles to understand you at first. 
Eddie looks at you in disbelief before letting out a small laugh, shaking his head. 
"S'not funny!" you say slapping him on the arm, which only spurs him on.
"No, no it's not" he said in between breaths. "It's just an absolutely ridiculous question, of course you're hot" he said matter of fact. "Have you ever even looked at yourself?" He puts the bowl of popcorn down on the floor next to him, turning to fully face you now making you feel nervous with all his attention on you.
"I look at myself everyday Ed's" you say looking down, playing with the hem of one of your socks.
"Okay don't get an attitude with me, you know what I mean" he said while crossing one arm over his chest to scratch at the opposite bicep, you bite your lip at the sight.
You roll your eyes and huff. "M'not getting an attitude Ed's I ju-" (you were absolutely getting an attitude) But he grabs your face with one hand before you can finish the sentence, squishing your cheeks together until your lips are in a pout. You had thought that your face couldn't heat up any more with embarrassment than it already had, but then his hands touched your face and your entire body engulfed in heat.
"Answer the question" he said slowly, each word enunciated and his tone oddly stern. Watching you for a moment, before releasing your face from his hand, leaning back against the wall.
Your heart was thumping in your chest. "I j-just don't see what other people see obviously, a-and maybe I'm missing something you know? And that's why people don't like me" you rush.
He scoffs, shaking his head, leaning back until he was looking up at the ceiling. Throat on display, thick and inviting, begging to be bitten. You swallowed hard when he looked back at you, some sort of mischief in his eyes. 
"Ed's you're being weird" you say shifting slightly, trying to ignore the roaring heat you could feel between your legs.
He hums. "Do you not see the way I look at you?" he leans forward, resting his elbows on the top of his thighs while he looks at you intently. 
"I can see the way you're looking at me right now" you say softly, heart thumping so loudly in your ears you wondered if it was loud enough for Eddie to hear.
"And how am I looking at you right now?" he asks, tilting his head to the side.
You swallow thickly, only raising your eyes to his briefly while you said. "You're looking at me like you want to-" you lick your lips. "-Like you want to fuck me"
His smile spreads slowly, it's a wicked grin that makes you nervous but intrigues you more. 
"There's my smart girl" he coos. 
Your mouth falls agape, unsure at how to respond to him "Huh?"
He's quick, grabbing at your legs until he's pulled you down enough so you're laying on your back, hair sprawled around you messily while your breath catches in your throat. He's hovering over you with both his hands on either side of your head looking at you like he's on death row and you're his last meal.
"I want to do a lot more than fuck you, but I'd like to start with a kiss if that's okay?"
You're in shock, you almost consider pinching yourself to make sure this isn't a dream "You want to kiss me?" you ask. "Did I fall and hit my head or something?" you lean up on your elbows and Eddie moves back slightly to accommodate you but still stays close.
"For someone who's as smart as you are, you can be really dumb sometimes" Eddie laughs. "Of course I want to kiss you, you idiot" he says all too casually. 
Something blooms inside you. You don't know if its confidence, or arousal, but with a laugh you wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips into his. He lets out a small groan and it fuels the heat between your legs more spreading throughout your entire body until it reaches the centre of your chest. His lips are soft and pillowy just like you had imagined. He taste like cigarettes, popcorn, and the sugar from the candies you had shared. 
You push yourself forward more until Eddie leans back almost completely. "Sit" you mumble against his mouth and he listens, not letting your lips be untouched for more than a second while he moves to sit on the edge of his bed. You quickly straddle him, hands coming up to either sides of his face to deepen the kiss, and his squeeze at the sides of your hips, earning a small moan that you tried to keep quiet. You don't realize you're not putting your full weight on him until you feel him guide your hips closer, the brush of his hardened cock against your centre makes you squeak in surprise. 
The two of you move together like you knew what you were doing, it was instinct considering you never made it this far with most of the people you've been with. Sure you've fooled around with others, and you've done most of the sexual acts your mind could comprehend but neither of you had been able to discard that 'virgin' title. But it's never felt like this, it never felt electric, and the shocking realization that you could make Eddie feel this good makes you even more turned on. 
Eddie pulls back slightly when he realizes you've started to grind against him. "W-We don't have to do anything if you don't want to" he says breathlessly. 
"I know" you whisper "But this feels really good" you admit, never once stopping the motion of your hips. 
"You're gunna make me cum in my pants if you keep doing that" he says glancing down to watch the roll of your hips. 
"Is that a challenge?" you tease, pressing down on him a little harder which makes him close his eyes tight and groan. 
"You don't wanna start that game sweetheart" his hands are tight where they've moved to your thighs, squeezing harshly. 
"Why not?" you say looking at him, eyes blown out and glassy, you feel drunk off of want-Need.
"Cause you won't win" Eddie says with a smirk. One arm wrapping around your waist as he pushes himself up into you hard, a forced moan slipping from your mouth loudly while he flips the two of you, until you're on your back under him once again. 
"How do you know how to do all that?" You ask through a small gasp.
"I'm a virgin sweetheart, not inexperienced" he smirks and you open your eyes just quickly enough to catch the end of it. 
"Can I keep getting those pretty sounds outta you?" his cheeks are flushed, and you think he's never looked prettier.
You nod quickly, pulling at the fabric of his t-shirt, trying to get him closer "More" you plead. "Please?"
"Yeah? You want more?" He asks while looping his fingers into the waistband of your pants, inching them down so, so, slowly until your lower half is bare before him. You whine impatiently and he smiles. "You can have anything you want baby I'll give it to you" 
You cover your face with your hands, heat rising to your cheeks at the way he called you baby while undressing you. He moves your hands away, a cocky smile on his face. "What's got you all shy now hmm?"
"You can't just call me baby like that" you breathe, watching him in a daze as he trailed kisses down between the valley of your breasts, barely covered by the crop top you wore. 
"Why not?" he mumbles against your skin, nipping and licking at any spot he can get access. You keen into his touch, your waist instinctively following the warmth of his mouth. 
You hum, forcing the words to come to you, but he's making you feel so good. "Gives me butterflies" you murmur. "B-but, like lower?" brows furrowed.
Eddies head shoots up to look at you when he hears that. Your eyes are closed and your head is tilted back so you can't see him look at you. "Lower?" he asks trailing a finger from your sternum down to your waist.
"Yeah" you nod and sigh.
Eddie coos "You tellin' me I give your pussy butterflies?" His hand continues down you until his palm pushes against your clit. You know he's smirking, you know he's looking up at you, but you can't open your eyes to look.
You hate the way pussy rolls of his tongue, but you hate the way it makes your stomach flip more, and the pathetic noise of a whimper that leaves you when he says it. 
"Can we, c-could y-you" your trying to get the words out but your arousal fogs your mind, the only thing there is Eddie.
"What is it baby, what do you need?" his thumb swipes at your clit and you mewl. 
You finally open your eyes, tilting your head to your shoulder to look at him. His eyes are down where his thumb is connected to you, watching in awe the way your cunt literally shines for him. His eyes flick back up quickly and he smiles when he sees you looking back at him. 
"Can we have sex?" you say quickly and so very quiet Eddie almost doesn't catch it. 
"Do you want to?" He asks seriously. 
You nod. "I feel like I'm on fire, I want to feel you, I need it" you say it so surely that Eddie has to bite his tongue from declaring his love for you right then and there, so instead he just nods leaning back onto his knees, too far away from you for your liking and you pout. 
"Show me how you touch yourself first" he says while reaching behind him to pull his shirt over his head.
"What!?" you prop yourself up onto your elbows, mouth agape in shock knees knocking together.
"Show me" he says with a nod, eyes flicking down to your slick pussy that he can still see despite your attempt to hide it, and then back up to you. "How you touch yourself" his words are slow, just like his hands as they undo his belt, pulling it out of its loops and chucking it onto the floor. 
You hesitate still, watching him while he pops the button of his jeans and pulls at them so the zipper slides down. "Listen, I'm sure I can figure it out myself, but I'd have a better chance at making you cum if you show me" he smirks. 
That smug bastard. It takes everything in you to keep your voice steady but when you speak, you don't break eye contact and say "I'd rather you put your mouth on me instead" 
He falters only slightly. It's the way his smile drops just barely at the corner of his mouth and the way his cheeks flush that you're able to catch it. He laughs in disbelief, tugging his jeans down just a little to relieve some pressure, exposing the soft happy trail just below his belly button.
You bite your lip and hum at the sight, dreaming about the way it would feel if you dragged your tongue over it. "I don't know if I can wait that long though" you admit, sighing when you look back up at him. 
"Wait that long for what?" he says slowly crawling his way back on top of you, knee slotting perfectly between your legs. You flinch when the fabric of his jeans makes contact with your clit.
"Tell me what you're waiting for hmm?" he asked, that stupid smirk you already know is plastered on his face. 
You're getting needy, and Eddie is memorizing every sound and movement you make because of it. Determined to get you like this as often as you'll let him. "Please" you whine, and you curse yourself for the tears you feel prick at the corner of your lashes. 
"Please what" he crowds your space, enveloping you in all of him. 
"Please sir? Please Daddy? Please Master? Please Eddie?" you rush frustrated. "I n-need you Eds please" 
"Fuck" he breathes, head falling until his forehead is resting against your shoulder. "You sure?" he asks again, looking back at you for reassurance. 
"Yeah" you lick your lips, mouth dry with excitement. "I'm sure"
"It- Um, okay, I might not last very long" he says bashfully, leaning back from you to lean over to his bedside table, picking out a shiny packet and tossing it onto the bed next to you. 
"I don't care" you shake your head smiling, you're so blissed out, you can't imagine how you'll feel when he gets to fuck you properly but that's for another day.
He huffs a laugh, pulling back from you to take his jeans and boxers off. You admire him, finally getting a glance at what you've been dreaming of. His dick is perfect needless to say, but you can't help the nerves that bloom in your stomach about what the two of you are about to do. 
Eddie catches the change in your eyes and is quick to reassure you, with a hand on your knee, resting his chin on it and giving it a squeeze. "Hey, it'll be okay, we'll go slow okay? If it sucks, just tell me, I'll wait forever for this, as long as its with you"
Your eyes water at his sincerity and he panics slightly when he sees your bottom lip wobble. "Baby, hey, come here" he lays next to you and pulls you into him, and you gladly hide your face into the crook of his shoulder, sniffing slightly. 
"You're so sweet to me" you say quietly.
"Well it's cause I love you" he says, and you both still for a moment, because that's the first time those words have been fully and truthfully spoken with romantic intent. 
"You love me?" you ask, leaning back to look up at him. Even though he just said it, and you know it's the truth, it's what you've been waiting to hear for the last three years. 
He nods and smiles, his cheeks pink as he says "I do"
You giggle. "I love you to"
"Gross" he says before leaning down to kiss you quick. "Wanna try?"
"Yeah" you take a breath. "Yeah, I'm ready, m'just nervous that it's going to hurt" you admit. 
"It might, but tell me if it's too much okay? If I had known this was going to be happening today I would have restocked my lube"
You snort at his unfiltered self, never afraid to say what he's thinking.
It's shaky hands and fumbling movements, shoving your faded sea creature themed comforter you always brought with you for sleep overs, down as far as it could go. It's the first time the two of you have seen each other like this, the tension building over the last three years as the two of you pretended you weren't head over heels for each other it felt like you could explode.
"Can I take this off?" he asks, hands slipping under the sides of your shirt. 
You nod, lifting yourself up to fling it over your head and onto his floor, and he drinks in the sight of your bare chest. He stares for a moment, just taking you in, like he's dreamed about.
"You're acting like you've never seen a pair of tits before" you tease.
"I've seen plenty of tits" he scoffs. "but I haven't seen such perfect tits before" and he dives in, kissing every inch of them, mouthing at the skin, and licking each of your nipples until you're keening into his touch. He only stops when you whimper because he knows you're growing needier by the second. 
"I know m'sorry" he says breathlessly against your sternum. Sitting back up onto his knees he reaches for the condom next to you, tearing the wrapper by the corner and pulling out the slippery latex circle. You watch as he slips it on so quickly, like he's done this a million times, and just before you can ask "I've practiced" he says with a smirk, coming back to rest between the safety of your thighs, hugging his hips perfectly. 
"Ready?" he asks. 
"Yeah" you nod with a smile. 
"Okay" he breathes. "Fuck, yeah, okay, okay" he takes his cock into his hand, pushing it through your slick folds and the two of you moan in unison. Gathering your arousal l until he dips just below to your entrance, looking back up at you for approval. 
You nod again. "That's the right spot" you encourage and he laughs. 
"Tell me if you need me to stop okay?"
"I will baby I promise"
he leans over you quickly to kiss you, because how could he not when you just called him baby like that? Slowly he pushes the head of his cock against you. Just the slight pressure of his cock feels good but it doesn't erase the nerves bubbling through you as Eddie pushes in more.
"Sh-it" you say through gritted teeth. 
"D'you want me to stop?"
"No no, sorry, just, weird feeling, never had anything so um" you giggle and Eddies eyes panicky search yours, because why are you laughing when his dick is about to enter you. 
"Please don't tell me my dick is small, not now, I couldn't handle it" 
You laugh again but louder, switching to a moan when Eddies own laughter causes him to push in a little more. Your hands coming up to hold his biceps. 
"I've never had anything so big in me" 
"Don't flatter me" he teases.
"Oh fuck off" you slap his arm before returning your hand back to it.
He slips in inch by inch, and it doesn't not hurt, but it doesn't feel entirely great either. It's a mixture of pain and pleasure, with the oddest comforting feeling of him so deep inside you. 
"Fucking christ" Eddie breathes when he bottoms out, arms shaking from where they hold himself up above you. "If I move I'm cumming in like thirty seconds, tops"
You laugh and he groans at the feeling of your cunt squeezing around him. 
"Fuck, don't, you can't laugh" he says, but you can't help it especially when he says it through a laugh himself. 
"Stop making me laugh then!" you quip. 
And so he does, slipping one hand between your two bodies until he finds your slippery clit, rubbing circles that has you embarrassingly and shockingly close to cumming. Your back arches with a gasp, another pornographic moan leaving you as Eddie continues his movements. Eventually slowly pulling himself out an inch before going back in. You don't even realize he's doing it until one thrust and clench of your cunt happen at the same time and you almost choke on your spit at how good it feels. 
"Holy shit" you breathe. 
"I know" Eddie says through a laugh of disbelief. 
A thick heat engulfs your body, sweat forming between your two bodies, and you feel everything in you begin to tremble. 
"You okay?" he says from the crook of your neck.
"Uh-huh" you nod with a hiccup.
Eddie pulls himself from your neck to look at you, concerned with the sad noise that you made. He slows down and you open your eyes, blinking rapidly to clear the tears that blur your vision. They slide down the sides of your temples, and fade into your hairline. Eddies hand comes up to wipe away at the tears, pushing your hair out of your face. 
"Baby, baby, what's going on?"
"M'okay" you say though a small sob. "Just feels really good" you admit. 
"Yeah?" He says picking his speed back up. 
"You're gunna make me cum I think" You say craning your neck to look at where the two of you are connected, his trimmed pubes, wet against yours with your arousal. You slide your hand down to rub at your clit, and the sensation is almost so intense you want to stop, but you're so close. 
"Keep doing that baby, come on" he grunts, gritting his teeth as he fucks into you harder once he realizes you can take it. And boy can you take it.
"Yes, oh- ohmygod!" you whine, head falling back against his pillows. "Please please please please-" You chant. You're not sure if you're asking Eddie for permission or yourself, but him approving it doesn't sound too bad. 
"Come on, you're so close I can feel it" he watches as your legs tremble, slowly moving up, up, up, until your knees are under your chin, toes pointed against his thighs like you're trying to push yourself away from him while your hands cling to his biceps to bring you closer. When you start bouncing yourself back on eddies cock in time with his thrusts he knows he's going to lose it. 
"Cum on this cock pretty girl, come on" his voice shakes, and he's losing his rhythm. 
"I'm- oh I'm- fuck Eddie!" The hand that still holds him grips tightly, nails digging into his skin, and he can feel it start to burn but he doesn't care. 
"Fuck yeah baby, look at you, you're so hot, fucking christ, god, you're amazing, m'gunna cum, shit" he babbles before he cums, spilling more words and expletives as he spills himself inside the condom, inside of you, his words warm against your chest.
Its quiet apart from the two of you catching your breath, relaxing your muscles, and the only time either of you make a noise is when Eddie lifts his head from you, bangs stuck to his forehead in every direction and you can't help but laugh. 
"What?" He says smiling back at you, absolutely in love. 
"You look a mess" you say snorting, pushing his hair away from his face. 
"You look sexy" he says leaning up from you, slowly pulling himself out of you and removing the condom, tying it in a knot and chucking it into his garbage can next to his bed. You make a small whimper of disapproval when he leans back again, thinking he's going to get up. 
"Not going anywhere pretty" he says reaching for the blanket that had been pushed off his bed, bringing it back up, and cuddling it up around you before sliding himself under it next to you. 
You scooch over until you can lay your head on his chest, leg hitching up over his waist and you can feel your arousal leak out of you and probably onto him but you're too blissed out to care.
"I love you" you murmur softly into his skin, placing delicate kisses.
"Hmm?" he lolls his head to the side, eyes sleepy and fond, thumb rubbing gently across your cheek. 
"I love you" you say looking up at him, cheek smushed against his chest. 
"I love you right back" he says without a beat. 
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what the fuck is goncharov
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zyafics · 17 days
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play fake | part seven
series play fake — ( masterlist )
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
summary when rafe cameron needs to secure a gf in order for his father to see him as a stable man, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.
content 18+, eventual smut, angst, fake-dating, jealousy, people-pleasing and independent! female reader, ward cameron pinning rafe and sarah against each other, rafe being an asshole
𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚
It's easy for you to pretend everything's fine.
You've been worried about the whole Aaron situation for the past week, but you couldn't let that be known. You were handling it—best you could—but, at least, it sets your priorities a bit straighter. You realize whatever the outcome is, you need Rafe to get this job.
So, you were going to play the hell out of the girlfriend role.
To get ready, Rafe picks you up from Sailor to take you to Tannyhill. This time, when you got into the car, it was met with complete silence.
"Hey," you greet, to which Rafe says nothing as he reverses out of the lot and returns to the road. You remember that Rafe doesn't function normally whenever he has these types of events. He's probably nervous about the upcoming gala, a need to impress his father once more and prove to Ward that he's capable. You don't hold it against him. "Okay, then."
You settle back against the leather seat. You weren't going to let him ruin your performance; the curated mood you set up for tonight. You were going to hold out till the gala was over.
Rafe glances over to you once he knows you're looking away. Your chin tucked in your palm as you watch the scenery outside the window. Something pinch in his chest.
His right hand slides over your thigh, exposed from your short work attire, and the warm touch surprises you. You turn back to the blond, tilting your head with a small smile. "Ready to talk to me?"
"Don't push it."
You laugh and the tension in his shoulders loosens. The sound always feels like a constant mark of normalcy.
"Who's watching your sisters tonight?"
"Huh?" You respond, the question caught you off-guard and you wonder if you misheard him. "Oh. Oh. I got a babysitter for them. They should be fine till tomorrow."
He nods, knowing he shouldn’t have asked but having done it anyway. "You could've let them stay at Tannyhill. I have people to watch them for free."
He pauses, holding his breath as he waits for your response. Very few people get this offer and the fear of rejection hangs over him.
"Nice try, darling," you tease, falling back to a sense of comfort, "but I'm fine. I got it figured out."
He‘s not surprised by your answer, but it annoys him nonetheless.
When you reach Tannyhill, you didn't bother to wait for Rafe to give you the boyfriend experience. You knew he wouldn't. Instead, you went ahead and opened the car door yourself, heading straight for the porch.
Rafe was just about to cross over to the passenger side.
Following suit, he unlocks the front door and grants you entry. You step inside, reveling in the details of the estate. Despite only being here a few times, you can recall the key pieces of the house—the crystal chandelier with dangling pendants, the cabinets of beautiful collector items from the Bahamas, the flowery display that Rose curates in her free time. You immediately check off all their placement in your head, strolling over to the staircase to ascend.
"Know your way around my house, huh?" Rafe taunts, sticking his hands in his pockets. You glance over your shoulders with an easy grin.
"Just trying to take notes for the next Mrs. Cameron. Don't worry, it's not for me." You wink, turning back around before you notice the way his smile falls flat.
Reaching Rafe's bedroom, you step into the familiar space and eyed it with suspicion. From social media, you saw that Rafe went to a party right after hooking up with you the other day. You will never admit it to him but you wanted to catch if there's any evidence of another woman.
But instead of finding a pair of panties on the floor, you find the red tulips sitting on his desk. Your guards lower.
After he gifted them to you, you cut off the ends and put it in a glass vase in hopes of rejuvenating the flowers. It worked. You nearly forgot about it since you haven't visited since that day, but you were surprised he kept it after all this time.
You turn around to Rafe once he enters. "You like tulips now?" You tease, to which he glances over to the bouquet.
"I forgot to throw them away."
"Sure." You hum, partially unconvinced but deciding not to take any deeper meaning to it. He probably did. "Well, I'm going to go get ready."
You head into the ensuite, dropping your bags on the floor. As you change into your dress, curl your hair, and put on your makeup, you realize you forgot your lipstick.
Searching through your bag and throwing out used brushes into the sink, leaving a powdered mess, you still couldn't find it anywhere. You frown, "dammit."
Your attire feels incomplete without it, but you're not going to cry over this miscalculation. Stepping out, you find Rafe, fitted with his tailored black suit, sitting at his desk and reading a file in his hands. His concentration breaks when he hears you exit. 
His eyes scan over your figure and, while he knows he's already seen you in this before, it does nothing to minimize how captivating you truly look in the dress. The dress he bought. "You look amazing," he murmurs, causing heat to rise to your cheeks.
"Thank you." You say with a laugh, uncomfortable at the way his attention is set on you. You need to expel it. "Unfortunately, I don't have any lipstick on. I probably left it at home."
"You mean this?" He picks something off his counter and holds it out to you and, lo and behold, it was your lipstick.
"Where'd you get that?"
"You left it here," he declares, lifting to his feet and approaching you with it. "The maids were going to throw it away but I assumed that..." He trails off, his eyes finding yours.
"That I wouldn't be able to afford another one?" You supply with a forced smile, knowing it squeezes your chest at how Rafe sees you. A Pogue who can't afford many luxuries. "Don't worry, Kook, it's like seven dollars, I would've bought another one."
That wasn't what he meant.
He remembered that you didn't let him buy you another one so he figured you wouldn't allow him to replace it either. But, he didn't know how to say that without coming off pathetic.
Instead, he returned it to its rightful owner.
Grateful, you take it out of his hand and begin to apply it right there. He watches you as you do, the freshness of plump lips replaced with a coat of red. "How'd I look?"
Kissable. Rafe swallows hard, tearing his eyes away and finding the empty space around your neck.
"Where's your necklace?"
You twist the cap back on the lipstick, tipping your head to the bathroom. "In there. I was going to put it on later."
"Let me put it on for you."
You blink up at him from the sudden offer. "You want to?"
He shrugs. He feels like he's playing a silent dance with you, hoping you’ll take the next step.
A small smile curls on your scarlet-stained lips and a flutter of butterflies release in your stomach. "Okay, come on," you take his hand, pulling him in front of the sink where you left your brushes, "don't worry about that, I'll clean it later."
Rafe honestly didn't mind. He likes the idea of you making a mess in his bathroom, the counter littered with your things. It shows that you were here. "Make sure to make it spotless. I don't want to see this shit tomorrow."
You roll your eyes and pull out the small box wrapped with a golden ribbon. "Yes, darling," you say with a mock, "would never want to disappoint the Kook prince."
He's used to feeling pride in being from Figure Eight, but something about the way you use Kook makes him wish he wasn't.
You take out the necklace from the box, internally reprimanding yourself at how expensive the piece is—knowing how it could be well-spent paying back Aaron—before handing it over to Rafe.
He places it over your neckline, pushing your styled hair to the side for full exposure. You watch him through the mirror, his concentration pinned on clasping the small hole.
"What were you working on?" You ask, filling in the silence as you refer to the file.
"A case for my dad." He explains, frustration slowly building in him because the hook won't puncture through the complicated loop. "He wants to close this deal tonight with one of his partners but they're refusing to budge."
You nod just as you hear him release a swear under his breath, his brows crinkled together and his patience thinning. You know the look. "It's okay," you comfort with a gentle tone, "take your time. It's not going anywhere."
It won't slip through. "I should've gotten you another necklace."
"I guess someone should've listened to me." You tease with a chuckle. Rafe flicks his gaze to meet yours in the reflection, watching your smile, no judgment in sight. His shoulders slacken a bit. "I guess it proves that you should always listen to your girlfriend. What's that saying? Happy wife, happy life?"
"We're not fucking married." He announces bluntly without much thought, his focus too wrapped up on the stupid chain. Your smile falters. Right, you got too carried away in your role. He clasps the ends together. "Finally."
You nod your head in gratitude as you silently slip out of the bathroom once again, making your way to the dresser where you left your purse. Your eyes gloss over the opened file on the desk and you stop in your tracks.
"Wait, I know him." You point to the paperwork, glancing over your shoulders to find Rafe. "He's that guy that owns the hotel chains for the tourists. The one who just bought up all that land near the marsh."
Rafe nods, picking it up. "Yeah. Cameron Development wants it but he handed the negotiation off to his daughter. She doesn't wanna talk and plans on proceeding with the original blueprint."
"But that doesn't make sense." You frown, plucking the case out of his hand. You look through the information. He lets you. "That land isn't a good location for a hotel. It's too close to the wilderness protection area for endangered species. They're going to get hell from the FWS."
Rafe stares back at your assessment. "What?"
"Look," you point to the map where he highlighted where the land is going to be used. "This is where the marsh is. This is where the hotel is going to be built. If you use that land, you'll disrupt the ecosystem and it's going to fuck you over later by the government."
He shakes his head, disagreeing. "We planned ahead for that."
"No. You only minimize it. You're going to cut off a main water source. It'll dry out the fishes and marines. You may be able to hold off the feds for a couple of years but I'm willing to bet it won't last longer than five. Max."
He's watching you, the way your brows knit together and your lips purse as you examine the case. "How do you know all that?"
"I work on the docks," you shrug, giving back the file to Rafe. "Heyward has been talking about how some Kook hotel magnate is planning on restricting a part of the marsh where they make their living. It's worrying them."
Rafe says nothing, glancing back down to the papers. "Well, Cameron Development was planning on using it for residential housing."
You shake your head, settling on the end of his mattress. It's so soft, unlike the one you have back home. "I wouldn't suggest that either."
He knows he shouldn't be taking suggestions from a bartender, but something in the way you held your ground makes him consider otherwise. "Why not?"
"Other than disrupting people’s livelihood? You don't want an alligator to end up on someone's back porch and they can't shoot it because it's part of the endangered species list. The lawsuits would be a nightmare."
What you don't explain to him is that you learned a lot of this because of what your parents drilled in you. They discussed local politics often. They believed it's important to have an understanding about your community and to know when certain corporations or people are about to harm it. That's what Kooks often forget.
"I mean, do what you want but that's my honest opinion." You conclude with a shrug. At the end of the day, it’s not your business.
Rafe watches as you lay back against his bed with a sigh. Your dress riding up; the high slit revealing more of your skin.
He has nothing else to say to that—to you—because, in some ways, you're right. You come in here and break down a problem he spent the past three days trying to figure out. It's maddening how incredible you are.
He throws the case onto the desk. His focus now pinned on you as his knees sink to the space beside your hips and he hovers over you, strong arms pressed next to your head.
"You're pretty smart then, huh?" He goads, his eyes scanning over your face. The necklace tangled with his initials. How you look under him.
You grin. "I told you. I'm not just a Pogue with no brains."
You're referring to his insult at the bar, the insulating that you weren't smart enough because you were from The Cut. He couldn't believe you remembered that.
He should apologize.
No one taught him how.
He changes the subject. "So why is someone like you, who clearly has a knack for these types of things, running a rundown bar in the middle of the docks?"
Rafe doesn't recognize your smile slipping off, just slightly. You don't immediately answer him. Your hand raises to cup the side of his profile.
"Are we going to keep discussing business or are you going to kiss me?" You challenge, because that's the best way to avoid these types of conversations with Rafe.
He scoffs. The way you tease him sends a shot of arousal down his spine. "Who said anything about wanting to kiss you?"
You tilt your head with a raised brow. "Are you saying I'm wrong? Because I have a faint memory of someone saying I was right about a certain necklace…”
He shakes his head, the corner of his lips raising in a smile. "Never said that."
"Didn't need to," you declare with a wink, "I can read your mind."
"Yeah?" He leans forward, his mouth right beside your ear. "Do you know what I'm thinking of right now?" He lowers his hand to travel up your exposed leg, closer to your aching pussy. Your breath hitch. "That I want to rip this fucking dress off and fuck you right here?"
You wrap both your arms around his shoulders. "Yeah," you play along. "I did."
"And what are you thinking about?" He rasps, his eyes searching your face for any sense of affirmations. That you could possibly want him too.
You merely smile, gently pushing him back and onto the mattress. Changing position, you straddle him. "How about I show you?"
Planting kisses on the edge of his mouth, down to his jaw, to his neck, he tips his head back for you. You feel his erection hardening under his pants, pressed directly against your core. "Feels good, darling?"
Rafe draws his hands up your waist to hold you in place. He wants to kiss you now, desperately, but you avoid his lips as punishment. "A little underwhelmed to be honest, sweetheart."
You giggle, slowly rolling your hips. He groans at the sensation, feeling his cock tightens. "Are you sure?" You say, sucking on the curve of his neck as you hear a small moan leave his lips. The low sound igniting heat in your lower belly. “I think someone wants me.”
"That's enough." He announces, grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you into a hungry kiss. Both your hands slide up his chest for balance and you melt into his touch.
Red lipstick marks are covering Rafe all over, but he didn't fucking care. All he wants is to taste you, feel you, that he would gladly take the mess you give.
His hand lowers to your exposed cut of your dress, pushing the red satin away to gain more access. His knuckles brush against your bare cunt. "No panties?" He asks with shock, his darkened blue eyes finding yours. Your shy smile gives him everything he needs. "Bad girl."
Your expression is innocent. "It ruined the dress."
His fingers graze your wet slit. "I have to buy you more then."
You chuckle, before he finds your clit and rubs broad circles around the swollen nub, and your laugh turns to a shudder. "Th–that was a one-time thing."
"Is it?" He muses, his fingers entering you and a whimper escapes. "I bet I can fuck a yes out of you."
He probably could, with the way he handles you. Knowing your body so intimately, what turns you on, when you're about to come. You couldn't give him that satisfaction, pulling him into another kiss and silencing your response.
Rafe gives in immediately. Your lips part and he sucks on your tongue while his fingers rub you faster, little moans leaving you between kisses. You come on his hand within time.
Weakly pulling yourself off, you start to unbuckle his belt and take off his pants—his hips lifts to assist. When you free his bulge from his boxer-briefs, it stands hard and swollen. "Such a pretty cock," you sigh in awe, stroking your thumb over the bit of precum at the tip. Rafe lets out a groan.
"Are you going to ride me, baby?" He asks thickly, his hand landing on your waist in preparation to help you mount.
"Not right now," you declare with an apologetic smile, his expression falling. "I can't ruin my makeup." You look at your kisses smeared over his fair skin. "Well, more than it is."
His hand doesn't leave your hips. "You can always reapply."
You shake your head, gripping around his base, your fingers barely connecting because of his girth. Rafe's breath grows swallows as you start to pump him. "But I can make you feel better."
He loves the way your hand wraps around him, tight enough for him to feel pleasure with each stroke, and his balls soon tightens. "Just like that, baby," he moans, propping himself back by his elbows as you work on him. "I'm about to come."
You notice, with the way his cock is twitching under your palm, and just as he's about to release his load, you dip your head and cover your mouth over the tip.
"Fuck." He grunts under his breath as you suck him clean, your hand continuing to rub him to empty every drop. When he finishes his high, you pull back, wiping your chin with the back of your hand.
"Didn't want to ruin your clothes." You inform bashfully, standing up from the bed. He wanted to grab your wrist and pull you back beside him but the opportunity was missed.
You go to the bathroom to grab a wet paper towel and return with the intent of washing away all your markings on Rafe. As you settle beside him to wipe away the lipstick, he moves away.
"What if I want to keep one?"
"What?" You shed a small laugh. He can’t be serious. "My lipstick?"
He shrugs. "It shows that we're together."
Oh, right. For a blind, hopeful moment, you thought it was because he actually wanted you. More than just a fake title. No, it was just another shield, another way to demonstrate he's committed.
You silently agree, wiping away most of your kisses until the last one is left. Just right under his collarbone, enough to be seen with a good eye but mostly inconspicuous. "Good?" You ask evenly, to which Rafe glances over to the mirror and nods. "Okay, I'm going to fix myself and then we should start heading out."
You put on your facade.
It's easy. You just pretend you're someone else—not a lowly bartender from The Cut making ends meet but someone dignified and deserving. You play into the role of being Rafe Cameron's girlfriend with that mentality.
The gala is hosted downtown, at a large five-starred hotel with a massive ballroom. When you enter through the double doors, opened by a pair of waitstaff, you stare in admiration at the exquisiteness at the place. Rafe catches your expression.
“Close your mouth. You’re acting like you've never been to a gala before."
"I haven't." You snap back lowly, before remembering you're in public. You shift your tone to be more friendly. "I mean, this is my first time here."
Rafe's taken aback by your compliance. He knows he should appreciate it, because you always fight back against him on everything, but the achievement feels hollow and disingenuous.
The two of you fall into steps with the room, greeting familiar faces. When Rafe ends up in a conversation with a group of Cameron Development's business partners, you were casted aside in the role of obedient housewife—where the women socialize while the men talked shop—and you didn't like that.
With a gentle hand on Rafe's shoulder, you subtly interject yourself into the discussion.
"Y'know, Rafe's pretty good at that." You praise, causing the eyes of the older men to fall on you. Your fake boyfriend stiffens under your palm, his gaze set on your profile to understand what you're trying to do. "I saw the way he works those cases. He's dedicated and efficient. Business deals are meant to be made with a keen eye and deep considerations. Rafe always does that."
They fall silent for a few moments, watching you with amusement, before a man with a scuffed beard opens his mouth. "And how would you know anything about it? Aren't you a bartender?"
Rafe's jaw tightens at the way those men address you, with such a superiority complex. It reminds him of when he first met you. But, like then, you didn't let them bother you. "Yes and I'm also the sole owner of Sailor. I've been running it by myself since I was eighteen, which has had an average increase of 1.1% profit margins every year since. I know what I'm talking about."
Rafe stares at you, slack-jawed. He didn't know that. The group of men held similar expressions, filled with embarrassment at their misperception of you. "And, if I remember correctly, you had a construction plan for a new shopping center downtown, right? Instead of contracting with Cameron Development and utilizing local labor from the Banks—which Rafe suggested—you wanted to import mainland workers. How did that work out for you?"
You heard Rafe on the phone once, talking about a shopping center being built, with an intended budget of thirteen millions, wanting to cut corners. They didn't listen to Rafe with his recommendations, pinned him as too young and inexperienced to know better, that it ended up costing them twenty-one millions. It's still yet to be finished.
Scuffed Beard shifts uncomfortably under your scrutiny, his eyes flickering amongst his peers with humiliation. You smile sweetly. "I'm not saying this as a critique on your character, sir, I'm sure you're an incredible businessman." You declare, coaxing him with compliments so he wouldn't hold bitter resentment against the Camerons. "But, your organization has an aging board committee. You might want to consider a fresh perspective on things." You glance over to Rafe, in a subtle gesture. "It might even save you millions."
A woman's hand settles on your waist and draws your attention away to say something. When you turn back to Rafe, you present a loving smile, so bright and natural. If he was anyone else, he would've believed that you adored him, but he knows it's a mere disguise.
"I'm going to go mingle, darling, have fun." You raise to your tippy-toes and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. It leaves a faint lipstick stain but you figure it would help him sell his committed act.
Turning your heels, you leave and continue your (fake) girlfriend duties. Rafe watches until you disappear into the crowd and only then does his attention return back to the quieted group of boisterous men who once didn't view him as competent. Their gaze shifts to his, waiting.
"You were saying?" One of them offers, reminding him of an idea Rafe was talking about before you came in—one they were rejecting—and a concealed smirk rises to his lips.
The rest of the night is spent talking and establishing relationships. An orchestra plays in the background while the men gather around, discussing their partnerships. You rarely saw Rafe, except in the passing, and each time his eyes lingered over to your direction, you gave him an affectionate smile, your fingers waving fondly over the separated distance.
All for show.
In the middle of a conversation with a group of Ward's partners, which were talking about golf tournaments and fickle deals, he pardons himself and strolls over to you. You were in the middle of talking to a group of women, hyping up Rafe's reputation as a successful underdog, knowing that, while the women may be casted as gossips, they are also direct access to their husbands' ears.
His hand slides under your waist. "Excuse us." Rafe nods to the housewives, before pulling you away.
"What happened?" You ask quietly, searching his face. "Is there a problem?"
"No, everything's fine." He shakes his head. Something about it warms his heart, but he can't help but wonder if this is the continued act you've been putting on the entire night. "I just... I needed a break."
You nod. "That's fine. It's good to take a breath once in a while. I know it can be overwhelming."
His jaw flexes. Something about your saccharine mood this entire evening feels off. The way you were complimenting him earlier with the business partners feels dishonest. "Stop it."
Your brows furrow together at his sharp tone. "What? What did I do wrong?"
"That." He gestures to you as a whole. "The concern. That pretend. I wanna hear my girl, not the bullshit you've been putting up for everyone else."
You blink in surprise. You can't even fully appreciate him referring to you as his before scoffing at his audacity. "Seriously? You're mad because I'm being too nice? Would you rather I give you an attitude every time you open your mouth?"
He smirks, satisfied. "There you are."
You can't help but roll your eyes. "I can't with you. When I snap at you, you get pissed off, but when I'm nice, you're pissed off. You can't be pleased, Rafe Cameron."
He doesn't understand it either, but he loves the fire behind your eyes when you talk back and he loves the way his name rolls off your tongue. Perhaps, it's something about who you reveal yourself to. How much. The idea that he gets the other side of you—one where no one gets often—that's what he likes. It doesn't matter if it's your attitude or bitter remarks. It's different. Because it feels completely his.
"Yeah." He nods, cupping your cheeks with one hand, running the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. "What can I say? I love this mouth. Reminds me of when I need to punish it."
You playfully shove him off but you can't ignore the knot twisting in your stomach. Your mind wanders to earlier, when you were giving him a handjob and swallowed his cum. It causes you to rub your thighs together.
Rafe recognizes that look. He wants to rile you further, maybe drag you off to a secluded area and fuck you—but he hears his name being called from behind and he looks up to see his father approaching. His spine straightens, his shoulders tense up.
"Rafe." Ward greets, glancing over to you with an acknowledged nod. "He has just arrived. I need you to convince him to settle on a deal before we lose that land. You're the only one I can trust with this."
He's a bit annoyed that his father interrupted his limited time with you but with the ounce of approval he's giving—telling Rafe he's the only person he can rely on, the one he wants to close the case—he can't help but submit.
When Ward leaves, Rafe looks back at you, his expression is vulnerable for a moment. His father is depending on him and the pressure is kicking in. He wants to ask you to come with him, for moral support, but he doesn't know how to word it without sounding inadequate—like he needs you there to succeed. So, he settles on his silence.
You return to the housewives but, this time, you remain closer to Rafe. You saw the look on his face and, while you wonder if you're overthinking, you wanted to stay nearby.
After his negotiation to the hotel Kook, the man considers his proposal. He tells Rafe that he needs a moment with his company to discuss before making a final decision. Once he left, Rafe releases a heavy sigh, searching for his father when a figure among the crowd makes him stop. Sarah.
What the fuck is she doing here? He has never once seen her attend any of Cameron Development's events, claiming them to be too meticulous and boring. Yet, here she is, wearing a formal dress and heading directly to their father.
Ward greets her with a beam of pride, his arm wraps around his eldest daughter and introduces her to his partners. Sarah reciprocates, waving and nodding along. Rafe could only hear the sound of his own blood boiling.
When his sister goes off somewhere, Rafe makes a direct beeline to his father. He pulls the patriarch aside. "What the hell is Sarah doing here?"
Ward knows the look in his son's eyes. "Calm down—"
"Calm down?" He echoes, incredulous. He hates that phrase. His darkened eyes stare down at his father. "What does that even mean? What's going on? Are you—" He couldn't utter the next words, his anger reaching its peak.
"Rafe, listen. Sarah, she's been out for a couple of months—"
"Yeah, because she fucking ran away."
"Language." Ward's command is sharp, causing his son to fall silent. "That's your sister. She's coming home and I'm trying to make her feel more comfortable."
"Comfortable?" He repeats with an indignant scoff. When Rafe was at his all-time low with his coke addiction, his father kicked him out of the house for weeks. But when Sarah abandons Tannyhill for months, doing god-knows-what with her boyfriend, Ward welcomes her back with open arms.
It isn't fucking fair.
"Does this mean..." Rafe couldn't finish the sentence. He doesn't know if he wants to know. All he feels is this intensifying frustration at the way his father could always accept his perfect daughter but criticizes him at every little mistake. Never good. Never enough.
Ward answers him anyway.
"Yes, I'm still considering her for the company."
He doesn't respond to that. He stares at his father with nothing more than pure, unbridled anger. Anger and rage. Rage and jealousy. Jealousy and hurt.
Ward tries to place a comforting hand on his shoulders, but the eldest son shoves him off. He turns, exiting from the ballroom.
You follow him.
"Rafe. Rafe. Rafe!" You chase after him, breaking into a mini-sprint as your heels click against the marble-floored lounge, before your hand catches his elbow. Your eyes search his hardened face. "Talk to me."
He pushes you away too. "I hate him."
"What?" You blink through the confusion. "What happened?"
"He always picks—" He cuts himself off, his eyes growing teary and he doesn't want you to see. "Fuck."
Someone walks by and Rafe tries to turn away, not wanting to be seen as weak by any passing stranger. You pay a glance to the oblivious man cruising by, before taking Rafe's arm and pulling him to the nearest empty space: a bathroom.
When the door locks, you face the blond. Your tone gentle, your approach cautious. "What's going on? Are you okay?"
"Okay?" He scoffs at your concern. He doesn't feel anywhere near okay. "What the fuck do you think?"
You frown, but you know this is always the first step. His anger always targets you first. "I want you to tell me."
Rafe locks his jaw, frustrated at the way you're being too kind while he's nothing but filled with rage. He doesn't deserve it. "My sister is back and you're asking me if I'm okay? Are you stupid?"
You cross your arms over your chest. Not out of anger, more out of protection. "I'm not part of your family, Rafe, I don't know why that matters. You're being mean and I'm just trying to help."
"Help?" He repeats, disbelief dripping from his tone. "Like you were helping me with my conversations? Talking me up? Making me sound like I was good?"
He's on the brink of a breakdown and you can't seem to understand him. Why is he making it sound like it was a bad thing? "I am. I'm trying to help you."
"You're just lying!" He accuses, his voice cracking from the intensity, stepping back. Like he couldn't trust you. Like you hurt him. "You say some shit, making me feel like you want me, and then you go off and do other shit that proves you don't."
You're not quite sure he's talking about you anymore. It's something more. It doesn't take a lot to figure out who.
You approach him calmly. "Is that what Ward is doing to you?"
Rafe doesn't answer you, staring back glassy-eyed with choked breaths. He's hurt. He feels unwanted. He can't explain it. Sarah returning home, to open arms, confirms something he’s always trying to push away. It means that his life will be more difficult; his goal of getting the family company more challenging. Because he knows, he will always be the second choice to the golden child.
And if you have that, who the fuck needs Rafe Cameron?
"You... you are good." You begin slowly, watching the way he shakes his head in doubt. "I told them the truth. You're an incredible businessman and you care about your company. I saw it at the country club's dinner, I saw it when we were getting ready and I see it now. What's the problem with me letting other people know?"
His insecurities are suffocating him. "You don't believe that."
"I do." You affirm with a nod, stepping closer to him. "I don't lie about that stuff. I admire it, that's why I remember."
His breath is cut short at your admission. Several beats take place before he speaks again. “You admired me?"
You laugh, the melodic resonance making everything feels better, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders while he leans against the sink. "Don't let it get to your head," you warn with a soft smile. "But, yeah. It reminds me of me; how much you care about your family's business."
Rafe doesn't say anything, his broken gaze finding yours. They trace over your features, trying to read any sense of insincerity in them, only to find none.
"Your family's business?" He prompts quietly, using this opportunity to gateway into learning more about you. To let him in—that’s how you earn his trust. You falter.
"Yeah." You admit weakly. Every bone in your body is screaming at you to remain silent, to keep him out, but you can't help but continue forth. "I inherited it after my parents' passed away in an accident."
His eyes widen, at you revealing this glimpse into your past. Discomfort settles in your stomach, at letting another person in, but you can't help the way your chest lightens ever-so-slightly.
You don't want to deal with it.
Leaning forward, you press a soft kiss on his lips. Tender and warm, Rafe's hands immediately draw up to capture your waist before reciprocating the touch. It turns hungry, passionate, and when you pull away, breathless, you flick your gaze up to him.
"Want to know something else?" You ask in a whisper. "I haven't stopped thinking about your cock all night."
Rafe feels himself hardening at your confession. You have that effect on him now. “Yeah?”
You nod with a timid smile, playing with the buckle of his belt. “Can I blow you?”
He couldn’t say no to that.
Unbuckling his pants, you remove them within seconds. The corner of his lips quirks into a smirk. “Eager, are we?”
“I told you.” You say as you pull down his boxer-briefs, his cock springing free as your hand immediately wraps around the length, stroking slowly. “I want you in my mouth.”
Rafe can’t begin to express how it makes him feel hearing you say those words, your attention set on getting him as hard as possible.
Instead, he removes his blazer and sets it on the floor.
Your smile grows. “Didn’t know you would throw away good money like that,” you tease, glancing at the jacket that is probably worth more than your entire closet. “Thought Kooks have to take care of their things.”
“I am.”
The knot in your stomach tightens. You know you shouldn't like the possession behind Rafe's voice but you rub your thighs together to satiate the feeling. He notices, his arrogance grows tenfold. "Does my girl like that? Does she like knowing I own her?"
Rafe is probing you but there's a sense of comfort in knowing that he has this effect on you. When you quiet down, his words being too real and your hands stopping at the base of his cock, he wonders if he went too far.
Until you whisper, "I like it when you take control."
"Yeah?" He can feel his skin pricking with excitement. "The girl who always has something to say wants me to tell her what to do?"
Your cheeks flush with heat before you nod. "Good. Now, kneel."
You sink to the floor, your satin-covered knees pressed against his jacket to soften the blow of the hard ground. When you align yourself in front of his groin, you dribble a bit of spit over the head before spreading it over his length. Rafe lets out a low moan.
"I like hearing how I make you feel." You sigh fondly. "It lets me know how to please you."
Fuck, Rafe thought to himself, the idea of you getting turn-on by pleasuring him sends all the blood straight to his pelvis. You feel him twitch under your palm.
"And I think you like that too," you observe with a small smile, "you like having me as your own personal slut, don't you?"
He doesn't get to answer before you tilt your gaze up to meet his, taking his cock in your mouth. Rafe lets out a groan, the admission of your words tonight igniting desire all over his body.
The way your eyes connect with his as you slowly take him in, inch by inch, drives him insane. Your hand syncs with your mouth as you cup him, twisting and rubbing.
"Shit," he whimpers, the way you squeeze him feels incredible while your head sinks deeper, causing a small gag to form from the back of your throat. "That feels so good, baby."
The praise goes straight to your core. Your thighs are slick with your own arousal, aching, but you refuse to move till he comes. Your tongue flicks over his length, rolling around his tip.
"You're doing so well." He grunts, his voice thick as his fingers grips at the root of your hair, his climax quickly approaching. "Just like that, I love hearing the way you gag on my cock."
You do it again, louder, this time triggering a guttural moan from him.
Your technique grows more confident as your hands fall to play with his balls, and your head bobs up and down his shaft. When your cheeks hollow to add suction, it doesn't take long before he feels his muscles tightening. He's close.
"Are you going to swallow for me, baby?" Rafe rasps, causing your heavy-lid eyes to find his once again. "I know you can."
You nod. "Yes."
His hot cum shoots to the back of your throat in fast spurts while you take it all. His moans complement his orgasm, riding out with loud praises and noises you can't help but fuel your own desire.
When you swallow all of it, you pull back, his softening cock pops out of your mouth. Your hands settle on the flat of your thighs and you look up to him with doe eyes to ask. "Better?"
Panting, he answers. "Not even close."
He reaches down and hauls you to the sink, making you giggle at the way he handles you. Your ass settles on the granite counter and Rafe wastes no time to pull you to the ledge, pushing your dress up to your hips to reveal your glistening, bare cunt.
"You're this wet from sucking dick?" He teases, massaging your slick inner thighs. You bite your bottom lip, nodding along.
"Just yours."
He loves it. Tonight, you're simply perfect. Saying everything he wants to hear. Everything he needs to feel. He gets hard again, so easy under your influence.
You notice, glancing down to his hardening erection with a teasing smile. "Already?"
He chuckles, capturing you into a kiss. He tastes himself on your lips, the acknowledgement signals a primal urge, while his knuckles brushes against your throbbing clit, causing you to jerk into his hand.
"Rafe." You whimper, breaking from the kiss, your eyes meeting his with desperation. The feeling between your legs growing unbearable by the second. "Please, make me come."
This time, in a bathroom, your plea is met with a different consideration. He smiles before nodding once, lining the crown of his cock against your wet folds. "Only 'cause you ask so nicely."
Rafe pushes in, slow and steady to let you adjust to his girth, while your hands clasps around him for stability, your nails digging into his shoulder blades. Then, his thrusts begin to speed up.
"You like that, baby?" He asks, his free hand rubbing your swollen clit simultaneously to his penetration. You nod vigorously, your eyes closing shut from the pleasure. "Your pussy feels so nice around me."
"Like it was made for you." You supply with a moan.
“That's fucking right. Like it's mine."
His hand raises to the cleavage of your dress, pushing down the satin to reveal your tits. He's never been happier to know you decided not to wear a bra and pinches a pierced nipple between his fingers, causing your head to tip back with a raspy mewl. "Just like these." He adds, knowing the way he's playing with them will make you reach your peak faster. "Fuck, these are my favorite things."
The way he's teasing you, fucking you, feels so good, but you can't help but release a small laugh at his assertion. "Of course they would be, you whore," you say with a wispy smile.
He abandons his play, causing you to let out a small whine, when his hand cups your cheeks, jutting out your pout. "Nah, this mouth is." He closes the distance, kissing you, before drawing out your bottom lip with his teeth. The act is so surprising, you clench around his cock.
It causes a shudder to pass through him.
"God, you feel perfect," he confesses, his thrusts growing less controlled as he's deep inside of you, feeling every little response between your legs. "You should've been mine a long time ago."
The fabric of your dress falls back over to your pussy while Rafe wants nothing more than to watch how he pumps in-and-out of you. The frustration of the cover makes him roughly push back the material against your hips.
"I'm going to rip your fucking dress off."
"Don't you dare." You warn with a weak glare, the pleasure building too strongly for you to feel any genuine hostility.
"Thought you didn't want it?"
"I never said that."
"What is it, then?"
A moan ripples out of you as you lean forward, your lips fall next to the shell of his ear in a whisper. "My boyfriend got it for me."
Fuck, that got him and he spills in you, this time, the motion leaving him more jerkily and unstable than before. Despite the overwhelming sense of pleasure coursing through his body, he isn't finished. Knowing you haven’t came, his fingers fall back down to your clit and begin to rub in tight, fast circles, trying to help you reach your own orgasm.
You do, following quickly after, that he feels your walls clenching around his warming cock. When you ride out your high, you're breathless as he pulls out.
There's silence, and you expect him to get dressed and leave the room, but he surprises you when he focuses on helping you clean up. From wiping away his cum around your thighs, to fixing your hair, and helping you off the counter.
You don't know how to feel from the gesture; your heart clenching from his gentle acts.
Only then does he redress himself, picking up the wrinkled blazer off the ground and throwing it over his shoulders.
"Wait," you reach out, pulling him closer to the sink as you grab a wet paper towel and wipe away all the smudges of your lipstick over his lips. Your voice is soft. "I can't let you go out there looking like that."
He watches you as you work, wiping away any residues clean.
"I don't want to go back out there." He admits quietly. "I just wanna leave. Are you good with that?"
The question came at a surprise. "You're asking for my permission?"
He rolls his eyes at the look on your face, his shoulders relaxing. "Either that or you're going to get pissed at me again for taking you out before you're ready."
You chuckle. "We can leave. I just have to say goodbye to the housewives first."
"Had to get the word out for your bar?"
"Nope." You shake your head, realization striking you that, throughout this entire night, you spent no time thinking about yourself. Your hand lands over the doorknob, and just before you twist to open, you spare a glance over your shoulders at Rafe. "We were talking about you."
You leave first and Rafe's momentarily stunned that you used your one opportunity to talk about him rather than advertise your bar as a catering option for these plentiful Kooks. His chest warms and he soon follows you back to the ballroom where you pay your farewells.
Off on the side, trying to avoid his father, Rafe waits.
When someone taps his shoulder, his jaw clenches, not wanting to face Ward, only to turn and find the hotel magnate standing before him.
"We talked it through." The man declares as you pull away from the final housewife to return to your boyfriend’s side. "You got yourself a deal."
He hands Rafe a card, scribbled with a personal number at the top. The eldest Cameron reaches out to take the small card from him, rejoining their hands in a formal shake.
"Thank you, sir." Rafe expresses, keeping his voice neutral. The man nods.
"You got a good head on your shoulders. Keep it up." He declares, before nodding to you in recognition and leaves.
It takes a few moments for it to register. How it happened. How it worked out. When Rafe turns to you, your elation is too hard to contain, and you tackle him into a hug.
"You did it!" You beam, louder than the normal convention, and catch the attention of the nearby housewives who watch the interaction between the two with awing amusement. As you pull back, your hands clasps around his shoulders. "I'm so proud of you!"
Those words mean a lot to him. Especially now knowing that they're genuine coming from you. He doesn't know how to react, especially with the look on your face, the expression of complete pride from his success. "Really?"
You nod frantically, your cheeks hurting from how big your smile is. "What did you say to him? How did you convince him?"
His fingers mess with the business card in his hands and he shrugs. "I told him what you told me."
You can't believe Rafe listened to you. "So, what are you going to do with the land? Are you still going to build alligator-infested houses?"
He knows you're teasing him but he chuckles anyway. His adrenaline comes down to a neutralized comfort. Safe. He can't help it. Your presence, your words, and your kindness drives something deep in him.
"No." He shakes his head. "We're going to use the difference to invest into the fishing industry on the docks, benefitting from their stock value."
What he's not saying is that your argument held value to him. That his decision to help the Pogues is because of you. But, you take it either way, the announcement bringing a realm of good news for the first time in a long time.
Your chest is overwhelmed with such gratitude, you almost confess something you shouldn't.
"That's good." You settle with a gentle smile, clearing your throat. "I guess this means we can both go home to a satisfying conclusion, huh?"
That was the goal. But now he's not too sure he wants to depart from you this early. Knowing who you truly are—not just putting up a mask and caring about him in public, but genuinely proud of him, supporting him, always in his corner—he doesn't want to separate just yet.
So, he does something out of his comfort zone.
"It's getting late and it'll be a long drive to your house. You should just stay over."
This is the second time he's asking you, holding his breath to see how you would respond, and when your smile softens just a bit, almost in a way to let him down, he thought he got rejected again.
You know you shouldn't. You know this is only going to complicate your personal and professional lives. You know you should go home and place some distance from Rafe, to save you and your heart.
But something in you clench about the offer. It feels too similar to hope.
You nod. "That sounds like another great idea of yours." 
— part eight here —
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kiefbowl · 3 months
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this is going to sound silly but it isn't silly, and I'm seriously saying this. I do think there is a slight feminist concern to alien abduction stories in so far as we can assume that when people, especially women, talk about their abductions and their abilities to communicate with extra terrestrials et cetera, they are someone who is mentally unwell and who has likely experienced something traumatic. alien abduction stories tend to have common elements even if there are details wildly different from each individual. those details are different because they likely didn't happen, but the common elements tend to be things like being taken from home, being violated, being exposed, having things implanted in the body, experiencing pregnancy, having secret knowledge, having a special connection to the extra terrestrials...
you can start putting some pieces together. yes, sometimes these elements are shared because they are what's heard in pop culture. you're more likely to imagine the details of a book you read or a tv show you saw than come up with something so fantastically new and original. you can imagine, for example, if someone is a say a seven year old girl being manipulated into sexual favors by a trusted adult and doesn't understand what's happening to her and has seen alien media and perhaps even has other messaging around her wrt sin, purity, worthiness, karma (what have you), and also perhaps is predisposed to mental illness, it's easier to believe she's a special person being abducted by other worldly creatures who don't truly mean her harm. you can see how a vivid child's imagination could lead to an adult believing memories that never happened.
and so the feminist concern is to not treat these stories as complete jokes and hoaxes and roll our eyes. I'm just reminded today of something I saw years ago. I think it was a Penn and Teller Bullshit episode on aliens, and they had a group of hard core believers talking about their experiences with aliens, and it felt like we were supposed to be laughing at them when at least one of them was a woman who truly believed an alien husband took her way sometimes and forced her to give birth and she had several children she didn't get to see in space, and she was clearly not very well adjusted socially. all I could think was is this a woman who's been raped? is this a woman who has been forced to have abortions? is this a woman who has had multiple miscarriages? is this a woman experiencing domestic abuse from a husband or boyfriend? but the episode wasn't interested in exploring that, and she stuck out as "one of these things is not like the others" when juxtaposed to fake professors trying to sell their weirdo books as a living or whatever else was in the episode.
when we say believe women, that includes "crazy" women. women who say ghosts are trying to kill them, who talk about people living in their walls coming out at night to steal their body parts, women who believe they are married to alien overlords since they were 12 and have birth 50 alien babies. these women are probably telling us something and I think we can say "I believe something has happened to you" rather than make a mockery of them.
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the-boy-meets-evil · 12 days
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not according to plan | hjs (teaser)
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summary: your ex-fiance is getting married and everyone you know is going to be there. when he calls to ask if you're coming, you accidentally mention a boyfriend. which would be fine, if you weren't very single. thankfully your best friend comes through with the perfect solution when he sets you up with a friend of his.
pairing: joshua x f.reader genre: fake dating, strangers to ?? | fluff, slight angst, smut rating: explicit (in the full fic), minors DNI word count: ~1.1k in this teaser (full fic ~22k) notes: johnny suh as the ex (sorry!), also includes other idols not in seventeen solely as face claims, there's a heavy focus on the fake dating, mentions of food & drink, warnings to be added to the final fic fic post date: friday, april 26th (full fic here)
a/n: i started this legit months ago as kind of a joke, talking about it with @shuadotcom but it's finally done (and a lot longer than i anticipated).
thank you to: @wonwussy & @kwanisms who read over this for me (too long ago), and to @cheolism @wooahaeproductions @hannieween, & sj for all the brainstorming help along the way. tagging: @aaniag @gyuminusone @crepecakeu
if you'd like to be tagged in this fic (or any of my fics), comment, click here for my tag list, or send an ask 💕
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You still think this is a terrible idea, yet agree to meet Jeonghan’s friend, Joshua, anyway. Apparently, he’s somewhat new to the area, doesn’t know many people, and is incredibly easy to be around. There’s no mention of why Jeonghan thinks he might be willing to pretend to be your boyfriend. A part of you wonders if your friend even told him, but he’s not that cruel. So, whatever the case, Joshua must at least have some idea of what he’s walking into. 
Several days pass between the nightmare of a call from Johnny and you actually meeting Joshua, which only adds to your anxiety about whether or not this is going to work. Johnny is asking for a name for the seating chart and for dinner selections. Your mom wants to know when they’ll be able to meet this new boyfriend before the wedding (because “meeting him for the first time at a wedding is gauche” and we wouldn’t want that). Your sister is convinced that he doesn’t actually exist since you haven’t posted him on social media. That you can at least answer to say that not everyone posts their entire life online like she does. It doesn’t seem to allay her suspicions, though. 
Then, there’s the fact that you’re actually meeting Joshua for the first time at dinner. All you wanted was to go for coffee, yet he insisted. You couldn’t exactly press the point. Not when you’re planning to ask this stranger to pretend to date you just so that you can avoid the embarrassment at your ex’s wedding. On top of that, because Jeonghan really is a demon at his core, you don’t know what Joshua looks like. Don’t know who to look for. Which leads to you doing the only sensible thing and showing up 5 minutes late for dinner, hoping that he’ll already be at the table when you get there.
It works.
When you give the reservation name at the host stand, you’re immediately led back to a table. Without even thinking about it, you smooth your hands down the front of your dress, looking for a small amount of comfort in this situation. It’s not even that you struggle around new people, this is just…well, it’s a lot. It’s out of anyone’s comfort zone. Whatever you’re expecting, it’s not the man sitting at the table the host leads you to. He nearly stops you in your tracks. 
His black hair is perfectly styled down to the pieces on one side that come down over his forehead. The black dress shirt he wears is open at least one button too many, but he makes the exposed chest look work in a way models would envy. Even though his pants are black as well, he makes it look classic and effortless, rather than too dark. That’s all without even acknowledging the soft smile on his face. This man would break a thousand hearts without even saying a damn word. While you’re appreciating him, you miss the way his eyes rake over you appreciatively. Miss the way his eyes trace your curves and the way the dress clings to you. 
In one fluid motion, he’s standing up to greet you, a gentle kiss placed on your cheek. Is it weird if your knees are a little weak? Well, even if it is, there’s nothing you can do. You’re completely captivated. 
“You must be Joshua,” you say. Brilliant, you think. That’s obvious.
“It’s nice to meet you. Jeonghan had nothing but good things to say,” he answers with another smile as he pulls your seat out for you. 
“I feel like he hardly told me about you,” you respond. Joshua raises a perfect eyebrow at that.
“Then why did you agree to go out with me?” Joshua asks. 
“Go out with…is this a date?” The question comes tumbling out. 
Joshua’s eyes widen in genuine confusion. “Is it not?” 
“What, exactly, did Jeonghan say to you?” 
A lot and nothing at all, it turns out. Joshua tells you about how he’s somewhat new to the area, which you knew. About how he met Jeonghan through work, kind of. They work in the same building doing very different things and happened to run into each other getting coffee a handful of times before Jeonghan introduced himself. The two had hung out several times, something Jeonghan had not really mentioned, and gotten to know each other over drinks more than once. The very first time, Jeonghan had mentioned you and Joshua admits immediately being intrigued without pressing for more information. 
In any case, Jeonghan talked about you pretty freely, a fact that’s hardly surprising. Before Joshua texted you, Jeonghan had mentioned, in what Joshua calls an offhand way, that you were sick of dating the same people. According to Joshua, through Jeonghan, you were looking to possibly be set up. (Read: Jeonghan thinks he’s crafty and isn’t going to come out and tell this man what you’re really looking for. Typical Jeonghan, honestly. You know that “offhand comment” was anything but. And you had the audacity to think Jeonghan would have to tell Joshua what he’s getting into. Rookie move.)
Now you’re in a bit of an awkward situation because this man is honestly gorgeous, one of the prettiest humans you’ve ever met. And, already, he seems like he might be sweet with a pretty good sense of humor. It’s just…well, you’re absolutely not looking for a relationship and this is the last person you want to get involved in your mess. Thankfully, you get a moment to catch your breath when someone comes by to take a drink order and suggest an appetizer. It’s just enough time for you to talk yourself into telling Joshua the real story.
To his credit, he only looks mildly surprised as you outline your whole situation, inform him that yes, Jeonghan does know all of this, and clarify why you didn’t actually realize it was a date. It’s hard to miss the way his eyes seem to sparkle a bit when you also admit that he’s absolutely stunning in a way that hurts your feelings. Easier to miss is the way his face barely falls when you say that you’re not actually looking for something right now. Interesting. 
“So that’s the whole thing and now that I’ve embarrassed myself in front of you, I’m sure you’ll understand if we never see each other after tonight,” you finish.
“How am I supposed to go to a wedding as your boyfriend in a matter of weeks if we don’t see each other after tonight?” Joshua wonders.
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let me know if you want to be tagged when i post the full fic next week 💕 (and what you think so far)
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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 3 months
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❤ Yandere Hater ❤
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▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.
More at Masterlist
Female reader
WARNINGS: Incel vibes; Hate; Noncon (in his imagination cause he's delulu).
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◾ Yandere!Hater who fucking hates your guts. Frankly doesn’t understand all the hype surrounding you.
You’re mediocre, at best. Nothing that special about you so he fails to understand why you’re getting increasingly popular these days.
You're not intelligent. You’re not talented. You’re not funny.
Heck, you’re not even that pretty.
Fuck, you’re actually nothing interesting. 
Just another brainless bimbo on her 5 minutes of fame. 
◾ Yandere!Hater that spends hours scrolling your social media, spamming your posts with countless mean comments, hoping you see them. You deserve them and he hopes you cry reading them. Worthless bitch.
Acting all sweet and delicate in front of cameras, but he knows better. You’re just another stuck-up assed girl.
Probably feeding on attention and money while being a slut to every rich guy that you get a chance to meet. 
◾ Yandere!Hater who runs an online account - dedicated to you, obviously - where he venomously spreads hate against you. It’s his little safe-haven, where he gets to expose your fake ass to the world.
Actively targets and attacks anyone that dares leave those disgustingly cute supportive comments under your posts. Gets involved in so many Discord and Twitter arguments that he’s lost count on how many times his account has been banned.
It’s not his fault that your fans are stupid simps. 
◾ Yandere!Hater who thinks the absolute worst about you. You’re an ugly arrogant bitch.  But that doesn’t stop him from rubbing one off while his eyes are glued to that Instagram photo you recently uploaded - you’re at the beach, a huge smile on your face and your body only covered by the skimpy tiny bikini. 
He furiously touches himself at the sight, imagination drifting towards a scenario where he runs into you at the beach.
You’ve briefly mentioned in an interview about your fear of the ocean, never having learned how to swim. Dumb you. 
So he thinks about your plastic smile quickly disappearing as his hand grabs you by the hair, violently dragging towards the water. You seem pretty weak, especially given he has a strong toned body when compared to yours. 
His cock twitches at the thought of you desperately fighting, begging him with tears shining in your eyes. He’d tame you rather easily, a mean slap or two making you shut up.
He’d pull you into the water, ignoring you as you hyperventilate. Push you to the deepest parts of the sea, the ones where only his feet are able to reach, forcing you to cling on to his shoulders for dear life.
You’d cry and whimper, begging him to take you back to the sand. 
But he’d only smile, slipping your bottom off - uncaring of the fact that the waves take away the thin piece of fabric.
So what if everyone sees you half-naked when you get back on land? You’re a slut and everyone should know that. 
◾ Yandere!Hater who almost cums at the thought of telling you to ride him - right there on the water - or otherwise he’d just drop you in the water.
Your choice.
You can either ride him quietly as he holds your ass with a tight grip or you can find out how to swim for yourself. He closes his eyes, relishing the climax that runs over him, imagining it’s your tight pussy that brought him to his orgasm, his cum dumped deep in your little cunt. 
◾ Yandere!Hater who pretends like this was one rare occasion that won’t happen again but day after day, he finds himself with a hand down his pants, abusing his cock while imagining fucking you in the most degrading ways that exist. 
◾ Yandere!Hater that gets more and more spiteful of you, which leads to a few disastrous encounters with you in public - only possible thanks to his network of connections with paparazzi - finding you as you go out with friends.
Encounters those that end with him being wrestled away from you by the buffy bodyguards that work for you, while you cower behind your friends, who weakly try protecting you from the eyes of the lunatic who just tried to drag you into his car. 
◾ Yandere!Hater that promises himself to do humanity a favor and take you away from the spotlight, maybe a place in his basement is more appropriate for you.
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jodienotmedia · 2 years
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Torrance Fake Nurse Jodie Casillas Cries to the cops days after calling the cops on her bitch midget tweaker “boyfriend” Tom zebra aka daniel saulmon. In this video, she cries to the cops after being called out by a memeber of the community for interfering with the cops she hates for pulling her over for a DWL. Jodie Casillas pretends to be a nurse in torrance. I hope your loved ones are safe from nurse ratchet. 
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