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#all of their friends in the back making bets on it
moonlightspencie · 2 days
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told ya if it was james i could ask for that
lets go for either fake dating goes very wrong (very right—) after a few firewhiskeys
or
fake hating as reader is the captain of slytherin’s quidditch team
or reader’s first time that she wants to get over and just do it with a friend she trusts and he ends up confessing mid sex
or all three, or none!!! but hope at least one helps w the fixation !!
just posted the third idea here. this is literally from december. it has been six months lmaooo. time to write at long last and YEAH its gonna be the ~fake dating~ one.
james potter x reader
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"This is ridiculous," you grumbled from atop James's lap.
He rolled his eyes, his arms around you as you both sat in the chair. He'd dragged you to some house party with the intention of getting the attention of Lily Evans. It was his newest scheme, and the only reason you agreed was because he promised to pay your rent for three months. He had money to spare, and you had some free time: a match made in heaven, apparently.
"Quit being a baby about it," he mumbled softly.
"She's not even sparing a glance this way, James," you note, taking a sip of your drink. He took it out of your hand a second later, downing the rest of it. You scoffed, "hey!"
"Yeah?" he smirked.
"That was mine."
"What's mine is yours, and vice versa, babe."
"You're really milking this."
"And your rent is paid. Suck it up, love," he kissed your cheek.
You felt heat rising in your cheeks, but you were determined to blame it on the drinks. No way in hell you'd let yourself be caught blushing over a man you were in a fake relationship with.
"Do you want more?" he asked softly, rubbing your thigh.
You quirked your brow. "Careful. Don't be too nice to me, or else I might think you actually like me."
"Hm," he shrugged, looking at you with an oddly soft gaze. Then his signature smirk made a reappearance. "Bet you'd like that."
"Oh, please," you roll your eyes.
He laughed again, hugging you to him tightly. "She's looking now."
You raised your brows, trying hard to look nonchalant as you scoped the room. You definitely saw Lily looking, but she seemed more confused than jealous. Probably not the reaction James was hoping for.
"Aren't we supposed to be trying to make her jealous? She just looks a bit confused, James," you say quietly, stroking his hair.
"Really?" he pouted, glancing back at Lily briefly. "Damn it."
"Tough luck, Potter," you said, about to stand up to refill your drink.
Before you could get far, he pulled you back down, pressing a firm kiss to your lips. You squealed in surprise, unsure if you should push him away or give in. Logically, you should want to slap him. But his lips were soft and you were tipsy... so you kissed him back.
You sighed into it as he wrapped his arms around you, deepening the kiss until you felt dizzy. It was intoxicating and terribly embarrassing to admit that you really liked it. You felt like you'd fallen into a daze when he finally pulled away, both of your eyes on one another.
"Um..." you say after a beat, feeling disoriented.
"That was... Just trying to make Lily jealous," he said quietly, his eyes still on your lips.
"Yeah. Just to... Right."
He started leaning in again before quickly pulling back. "I⎻I'm gonna refill our drink."
"Oh. Okay," you nodded, standing up, then falling back into the seat as he started walking towards the drink table, still not sparing a glance at Evans as he did. You took a deep breath, unable to stop looking at him. You groaned, covering your warm face with your hand. "Fuck."
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— Come get yer' kid!
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brace yourself folks, this is a long one!
Thank you to @alotofpockets for helping me through the writers' block with certain parts.
I was gonna just keep this as 5 parts, but I love writing choas fc so I'm just gonna continue to write it until I get bored of it, whenever that happens.
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pairings: kim little x reader, leah williamson x reader, awfc x reader
summary: the flight back to london and kim still can't catch a break, much to her surprise it's not reader causing the chaos this time though.
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"Aye, Kimmy. Yer kids' quiet," The ever observant Katie McCabe nudges the Scots' woman and gestures to the seated area in the airport where your all but practically glued to Alessia.
"Shes' missing Kyra," Kim glances over to see you as she makes the brief explanation to the Irish girl, knowing the truth behind the reason for your sudden withdrawn behaviour, "And shes' not my kid. I'm just babysitting until we get back to London and then shes' Leah's problem again."
Katie snorts in amusement, "Takin' it pretty hard to not have her partner in crime, ain't she? I bet Williamsons' ecstatic to have the little menace back under her wing." She jokes with your captain.
"She'll be alright as soon as we board the flight," Kims' more than observant with your lack of your usual chaotic behaviour, but somehow she still feels like she needs to be on high alert in case you decide to pull another prank.
Kim was right about one thing though, you were definitely in a sulk about missing your best friend.
After a fun filled few days down under in Aus with the overall win from playing against the All Stars team, you were all now heading back to London.
Unforunately due to the fact that International break was right around the corner, it meant that you would have to endure the flight without the older Aussie girl considering that all three Matilda's players remained in Melbourne to catch the connected flight to their camp.
It's safe to say that you do feel a bit mopey about the situation and of course its' not long before the rest of the girls start to pick up on your distant personna.
"We're goin' to be boarding the flight soon, Y/N/N," Alessia glances down at you from where you've shifted your body to lean up against hers with your head tiredly resting on her shoulder, "Is everythin' alright, kid?"
You just decide it's easier to sit with one of the girls, who wouldn't try and bother as much to get a conversation out of you and your pretty familiar with Alessia through the England side of things, so you know that shes' a safe bet to sit by.
"Mhm," You barely even have any energy to respond.
Your response peaks Alessia's further concer that there's something wrong with you because having known for you as long as she has done, the only times' you known to be this withdrawn is either when your sick, tired or just upset about something, "Are you not feelin' well?" She wonders.
"M' fine," You mumble with your head buried in her neck, you were keeping your hood over your head with the hope that everyone else will leave you alone.
"Are you sad about something?" Alessia frowns in deeper concern, trying to figure out the reason for your quietness; Yeah, you were definitely sad.
"I guess so," You murmer in response, your eyes feel hazy with the lack of sleep but that's purely down to your own fault of staying awake most of the previous night.
Damn TikTok being a bad habit, one minute your scrolling through videos and the next thing you know its' 5 am, the suns' coming up and your being woken up to head to the airport.
Whoops?
"What's goin' on?" Alessia leans forward to try and be more observant, "Are you missing Kyra?" She questions, trying to figure out what could be getting you so down.
Are you that easy to read?
"Uh huh," You mumble quietly in agreement, "I'm too tired, Lessi." You add, trying to fight the sleepiness.
Alessia chuckles slightly and pats your back with her free hand, "Thats' why you should sleep instead of being on TikTok, eh?" She jokes as you lift your head up to face her just as quick, "You made the mistake of posting one of them videos into the group chat."
"Awh shucks," You mumble in realisation; Fantastic, another reason for one of the older "responsible" girls to lecture you, ie. the blonde English skipper, otherwise known as Malfoy to you now, "I'm not in the mood for one of Malfoy's lectures."
"What?" Alessia asks, confused, "Whos' Malfoy?" She's bewildered by the name.
"Le, Malfoys' her new code name cos' of that god-awful hair cut," You explain in the state of being half asleep.
The blonde couldn't help but stifle her laughter, "I don't think she'll be too happy to hear that." She jokes.
"I'm willing to take that risk of her shouting, because its' funny at least," You mumble tiredly as you let out a yawn, "Lessi? Can I sleep on the plane? I'm so tired."
"Sure kid, you can sleep on the plane," Alessia chuckles and pats your back, "Just try and stay awake until we board the flight at least. None of us want to carry you onto the plane." She adds.
"I can't promise that," Your voice is once again muffled in the crook of the older blondes' neck as you fight the urge to stay awake, "I'm so tired, but TikToks' addictive though to give up watching it."
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"I don't think I've ever seen Y/N be this quiet before," Teyah jokes as she glances over to where your sat watching a movie on your iPad while still being leant up against Alessia.
"Unless shes' asleep," Katie remarks.
"Or she's sick," Vic chimes in, remembering the time where you came to training before and were too stubborn to admit you were feeling unwell.
You were more than aware that they were talking about you, but you were much too engrossed in the current Avengers film to even care about it.
The first flight from Melbourne had been fine, you had been able to peacefully sleep practically the whole flight; Luckily enough Alessia had taken pity on your tiredness and allowed you to all but lie right on her to snooze away, also making sure that nobody else woke you up either.
The connected flight from Dubai to London was a little different and with your newfound energy, you found yourself growing bored, fidgeting in your seat and being quickly aggitated when you couldn't get comfy until Alessia suggested that you watch a film to try and distract yourself for a bit, so therefor you're now sitting beside the blonde-- more like practically leaning on her while you watch the first Avengers film.
"She's too quiet. Are we sure that shes' not secretley plotting something?" Teyah wonders, hesistantly.
Katie shrugs her shoulders, "I'm not sure."
"You know how much she loves them Avengers films," Vic all but rolls her eyes; Its' true that you were a massive Marvels' fan, you wouldn't ever deny that - You bedroom walls were covered with posters, amongst other things and any time that you needed to wind down, you'd take yourself off to your bedroom, or a quiet place where ever you were to watch a film.
The Irish girl hums and tries to observe you closely, "Ere' Y/N! What's up with yer, kid?" She shouts across the plane to you.
"Leave her be, Katie, shes' fine," Kim gives the bruntte a pointed look.
Teyah snickers, "Are you sure? Shes' actually not being a pest for once!" She makes the snide remark.
"Yeh, only cos' she doesn't have her sidekick by her side. I've never seen her look so depressed..."
You finally had enough of the constant back and forth chat about you, besides they were ruining the perfect film.
Making sure to pause the film first so you don't miss any of it, you whip your head round to face the girls, "I can hear, you know!" You shout at them.
"Now look what you've done," Cloe pipes in, shaking her head.
"Y/N," Alessia tries to divert your attention back to the film rather than arguing with the older girls.
"What? They're talkin' about me behind me back-- And they're interrupting one of the greatest films made!" You whine in protest, shooting a glare at Katie and Teyah.
Kim exhales a sigh and pinches the bridge of her nose, "I knew it was too good to be true," She thinks to herself, "Y/N, just ignore them and watch the film. Katie, Teyah, you girls are old enough to know better than to wind her up!" She scolds them both.
"Y/N is the same age as Teyah," Katie reminds the Scots' women.
"Are you sure? The way she behaves sometimes says different," Emily chips in, amusedly.
"She has a point," Frida adds in.
Kim starts to rub her temples, "Just a few more hours, just a few more hours until we're off the plane," She repeats to herself. "Lets' just leave Y/N be, alright?" She tells the rest of the girls, sternly.
"Yeah," Katie and Teyah mumble in sync.
You can't help but help look Katie dead in the eye and stick your tongue out at her before you go back to watching the film.
"Y/N," Alessia chides, catching the rude face you had pulled at the Irish.
"What? I didn't do out," You protest innocently, trying to act like butter wouldn't melt.
Alessia definitely knew different as she laughed and slung her arm around your shoulder, leaving you to be so watch the film and enjoy the peace and quiet for the remainder of the flight, hopefully.
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"Wha... What was that?" Kim shoots up from her seat and immediately sets her eyes' on you.
"What was what?" Cloe asks, confused.
"I just felt something hit the back of my neck-- Y/N!" Kims' straight to blame you for whatever it was that happened.
You poke your head up from your iPad to see your Captain looking less than happy, "What?" You question.
"What'd I tell you? No more pranks, or else!" Kims' still quick enough to scold you, thinking it had something to do with you.
"That weren't me, Kimmy. I've been watched the film-- Ask Alessia!" You protest, turning to look at the blonde for her to back you up.
Kim turns to look at the blonde girl, "Alessia?" She questions.
"Shes' right, Kim," Alessia nods in agreement, "Y/N has been practically glued to be the whole flight." She teases you, ruffling your hair which she knows' you all but hate when someone does that.
The Scots' women looks more than confused now, "Then who was it?" She wonders.
There's a few snickers around the plane and you poke your head round to spot where the laughters coming from; The Young Guns.
You weren't going to rat them out, you were actually quite impressed about being able to pull the prank off, even if it did mean that you were the one to get blamed for it.
"I don't know. Sure you're not imaging things now, Kimmy?" You joke with the older women, sure enough you were in sulking still about the lack of your best friend this flight but you had a spark of energy after your nap and would you really be yourself if you didn't act up even the slightest bit?
"Wha-- I know you had something to do with this, Y/N!" Kim is lost for words as shes' more than convinced it was you pulling the strings on the chaos.
"It wasn't me. How could I do that when I've been sat here the whole time?" You tell the Scots' women as you give her one of your famous cheeky grins.
"Yes, well-- Urgh. Enough of it, anyways. I don't want any more trouble the reaminder of the flight," Kim states sternly, wagging her finger in your face, "The sooner this plane lands, the better." She mutters to herself, walking back over to her own seat.
"It weren't even me!" You protest, miffed about the fact that you were automatically the one to get the blame for this.
Are you that predictable?
"Back in a minute. I need to loo," You make the quick excuse to the blonde, clambering over the seats before you head to where the academy players are all huddled around together, "Young Guns!" You shout in a low whisper.
"Hi Eagle 1," Mini Viv greets you.
"Whatever it was that you did, I got the blame for!" You huff in protest.
"We don't know what you're talking about," Noami replies.
You can't help but scoff and glance between all 6 of them who're trying to stifle their laughter, "I know you definitely did something. I know that look!" You insist.
"We didn't do anything," Maddie snickers.
"Yeah and well, if we did then we just learnt from the best," Laila remarks.
"Yeah but that's not the-- Wait, really? You really think I'm the best?" Your sidetracked by the compliment to continue to point your point across, "Seriously?"
"Yep," Maddie agrees.
Freya shrugs her shoulders, "We just wanted to have some fun. The flight is boring otherwise." She admits.
"I told them it was a bad idea," Mini Katie chips in, looking more apologetic than the other 5 of them.
You can't help but grin feeling a certain acomplishment, "Right, okay... I'm goin' back to my seats, but no more pranks. Mother Kimmys' convinced it' me and I'm toast if anything else happens!" You warn them.
Mini Viv mockingly salutes you, "You've got it, Eagle 1. No more pranks."
"Good," You glance between the 6 of them with a certain look, hoping it looks at least the bit immidating; After all, you have a great mentor when it comes to it, "I'm going back to my seat before Less starts to wonder where I am."
"Guys, should we have told her about us switching the luggage or leave it as a suprise for her to find out?" Noami questions in a hushed whisper.
"Nah, leave it. At least we won't be in the firing line then," Laila jokes with the rest of the Academy players.
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"Freedom!" You exclaim, jumping up from your seat the minute that you touch down in Lonndon; You couldn't wait to be off the plane and be able to run around again.
"Someones' eager to get off, huh?" Cloe jokes, spotting you from her seat as she watches you to try and rush off the plane the second you can.
"It's almost hard to believe that Y/N was this quiet on the plane," Emily chimes in.
"Yeah, you wouldn't think it now," Vic snickers, noting your usual energetic self again.
"Lemme off! I need fresh air!" You insist, wanting nothing more than to be off the plane, having had enough of being confided inside of it.
With that being said, as soon as the moment came where you could exit the plane, you pretty much sprint from your seat and out of the door, running down the steps onto the tarmac ahead of the rest of the girls.
"And shes' off," Alessia chuckles, shaking her head.
"Y/N! Don't run off!" Kims' back to stressing about you as she rushes to try and catch up with you, knowing the busy airport that you're no doubt bound to get lost inside if you get far, "Come back here!"
"Freedom!" You exclaim, throwing your arms up in the air as you run around like a complete maniac in that moment.
"Run, Y/N. Run!" The Young Guns shout in encouragement.
"Y/N! Come 'ere!" Kim shouts in frustration, trying to get a hold of you while your running about.
"I'm free!" You shout aloud like a mad man.
"Y/N, come back here-- We're about to go into a crowded airport!" Kim continues to shout frantically, catching up with you and taking a hold of your upper bicep.
"Ay, Kimmy-- Lemme go, I want a taste of freedom!" You whine and try to wriggle away, all you want to do is run around but the Scots' women is pretty reluctant to let go anytime soon.
"I'm not letting go, I can't trust that you won't run off again!" Kim states, sternly.
You still continue to try and break free from her grasp, "I won't do it again. Lemme go!"
"Mhm, I don't believe that-- Come on!" With that being said, Kim tugs you in the direction of the airport with the rest of the girls.
At least while you went through security, the Scot' had the kindness to realise her grip before you all head over to reclaim your baggage.
Low and behold did you or the rest of the team know what had happened to it.
Of course you were the one to get the blame for it without even a second thought.
"Oh hold on, I need to grab my power bank before we leave the airport," Katie speaks up in realisation, "My phones' almost dead."
"There's always one," Teyah jokes, rolling her eyes.
Katie unzips her suitcase, or at least what she thinks is hers, "Why can't I find it? I swear I packed it-- Hold on, this one ain't even mine!" She exclaims, confused as she continues to dig around in it, "Who's is this?" She questions, turning to the rest of the group.
"That's mine," Sarah chimes in.
Katie huffs and passes the suitcase to her, "You must've got mine then?" She questions, accepting the suitcase before she opens it up to have no luck there either, "What? This ones' not even mine!" She states, annoyed about the situation.
With that being said, Katie begins to start literally ripping open each and every suitcase, scouring through to find the correct one.
"They've all been messed up!" Vic points out in realisation.
"Really? No shit sherlock," Teyah teases the Dutch girl.
"What's going on?" Kim asks, confused as she overhears the commotion.
"The baggage has all been mixed up," Alessia exhales a sigh.
"Y/N," Kim mutters, pinching the bridge of her nose; At the news of this, your Captain is literally stood there seething in anger while you're non the wiser, distracted by the colourful logos' in the airport of a nearby shop where you spot lego.
"Of course it was her," Katie remarks, huffing in annoyance.
"Ah, no. Y/N, come back here, right now!" Kims' quick to spot you making a run for it in the direction, "Y/F/N, get back here!" She shouts through the airport.
"O... Ow, Kimmy!" You flinch in shock as you feel the pain of your ear being yanked, "Lemme go! Lemme go, I just want the Lego!" You state, not seeing the big deal about it; In your opinion, it looked so cool!
"Absolutely not! No!" Kims' firm in her words as she believes your the one thats' behind the whole mix up of the bags, "Why can't you not just behave for once? This is gettin' beyond a joke now, Y/F/N!"
"O... Ow! This hurts-- Lemme go!" You continue to whine and writh around in pain, your definitely not a fan of this but you don't see what the huge fuss was about you running off to look at the Lego, "I just wanted to look at the Lego, its' not a big deal!"
"I'm not talkin' about the lego, Y/N. You mixed up the bags!" Kim points the finger at you for the blame, "Don't even try to deny it-- I knew you were up to something!" The Scots' women scolds you.
"What? That wasn't even me!" You whine, trying to break free from the Scots' women.
"Like I believe that, Y/N-- This is completely out of order!" Kim states, sternly as she drags you in the direction back to the bags, "I can't believe you-- You can't ever stop causing trouble!" She scolds.
Your at a complete loss for words, you had no idea what she was talking about but the pain in your ear really was hurting a lot the more that Kim continued to hold it tightly, "I don't... I don't-- It wasn't me. Let go, it hurts!" You complain.
"The Young Guns have a confession," Katie speaks up as you both approach them all again; It turns out that while Kim was chasing you around the airport, the Young Guns decided to come clean.
"Oh?" Kim blinks and looks between the 6 academy players.
"Go ahead," Teyah nudges Freya to speak.
"Uh... It's about the baggage..." Freya begins.
"That wasn't Y/N," Maddie continues to say.
Mini Viv scratches the back of her neck, "Er, yeah, it was us instead."
"We just wanted to have some fun," Laila chips in.
"Yeah, the flight was borin' and wanted to do something," Noami states.
"I was completely against it-- I told them it was a bad idea!" Mini Katie insists, seeing the fury in the Scots' facial expression and not wanting to be on the wrong side of her Captain.
Kim exhales a sigh, easing her grip on your ear as she pinches the bridge of her nose, "Right, I see. Well, thank you for being honest," She states.
You stare at the Scots' women in disbelief, "Thats' it? That's all your gonna say-- You yanked me by me ear across the airport and they just get off scot free? What the actual fuck!" You exclaim, annoyed.
"Calm down, Y/N," Alessia can clearly tell your annoyed and tries to defuse the situation.
"Calm down? Nah, sod that! If... If that were me then I actually would've been in trouble-- That's not fair!" You whine, huffing and puffing and stomping your feet around to cause a scene.
"That's enough, Y/N," Kim cuts in, her voice remaining firm, "I don't care who did it, they've admitted it now lets' grab our things and get out of here so we can go and meet the rest of the girls.
"I didn't... I didn't even get to look at the lego!" You huff in annoyance, kicking the ground beneath you as you sulk behind the rest of the girls, "I want to at least look at that!"
"I don't think so!" Kims' quick to grip a hold of your ear again as you're reluctantly pulled in the direction of where Leah, Lia, Beth and Viv are all waiting for you, "Leah! Come get yer' kid. I'm done babysittin' now!" She exclaims.
"Kimmy, lemme go-- This hurts!" You still try and break free from the Scots' womens' grip, but to no avail shes' still reluctant to let go.
"Hi, girls. Good trip?" Lia greets you all as you walk over to them.
Katie scoffs, "You could say so."
"It's been eventful," Alessia chimes in.
"So, we heard you might need one of these?" Beth smirks, holding up one of Myles' leashes in her hand as she looks you dead in the eye.
"What-- No!" You protest against the idea, scowling at the blonde, whos' finding complete humour in the situation.
Leah furrows her eyebrows in confusion as she catches up to you all, "Dare I ask what happened?" She asks.
"Y/N's just having a tantrum over lego and other things," Vic jokes.
Judging by Leahs' stoic facial expression, you guess that shes' less than happy to hear that.
"I'm never babysittin' again!" Kim states, releasing her grip on your ear as she pushes you in the direction of the blonde, "Shes' your problem now."
With that being said, Kim all but takes a hold of her luggage and starts to walk off from the rest of the group.
"Wait, no-- Hey Kim, hold on!" Leah calls out to her in sudden realisation, "We still need you to babysit when we go to camp!"
"No, no, nope. Absolutely not!" Kim shouts back in response without even turning round, "Theres' not a single chance that I'm taking care of that menace any time soon-- I need a break!" She exclaims.
"C'mon Kim, we can hardly take her to camp with us!" Beth pleads with the Scots' women.
Kim scoffs and shakes her head, "That's your problem girls, figure it out yourself!" That being said, shes' quick to make her exit out of the airport and you bet no doubt the first place shes' heading to is the nearest off license.
"You know I'm 19, right? I can take care of myself just fine-- Alright, I'll just shut up then..." You go to protest, but judging by the look that you get from all four older girls, you just decide to shut up.
"Poor Kim," Lia exhales, shaking her head.
Viv hums in agreement, "Yeah, poor Kim indeed."
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"I thought I told you to behave?" Leah exhales a sigh while she looks at you in disappointment.
You were now back home, you had to deal with the scolding of a lifetime which still didn't end even when you arrived back at the flat you shared with the blonde.
Which led you to know, where the blonde was still telling you off for everything dumb and idiotic in her own words that you've done over the past few days.
"I did-- I just wanted to look at lego!" You whine, trying to justify the reasoning for your need to run off in the airport.
"Oh, really? So Kim literally dragging you through the airport by your ear was for no reason at all, was it?" Leah questions with a raised eyebrow as she unlocks the front door.
Busted.
"I hope you know that you're grounded," Leah states, firmly.
"What! Why?" Your eyes widen in disbelief.
"Because I quite clearly remember telling you to behave and you clearly didn't," Leah explains the reasoning as she continues with her usual stern facial expresion, "Therefor, you are grounded."
"You can't ground me-- I'm 19!" Your quick to protest, knowing there was probably no use in even doing that.
Leah has the audacity to smirk at you, "Oh, well that's where you're wrong there, sunshine. My house, my rules."
You continue to widen your eyes in disbelief, "What!? That's not... That's not even fair!" You whine, like the ever mature adult you are.
"It is more than fair, Y/N," Leah states, firmly as she looks you dead in the eye, "From what it seems like, between you and Kyra, you've both tormented Kim the whole trip. We had a conversation about this, didn't we? The reason for you being grounded is more than justified and I'm not going to change my mind anytime soon."
"Meany," You mumble, staring down at your shoes.
"Great, so we can't leave her alone and nor can we take her with us," Leah huffs aloud, talking about you like you weren't even there with Lia, Beth and Viv who also came back to the flat with you both since they all seemed to have shared one car.
"What do we do?" Lia questions.
"Well, there is a third option," Beth chimes in.
"What's that?" Leah furrows' her eyebrows in confusion.
Beth starts to turn to look at Viv with a coy smirk on her face, "Viv could you..."
"No, no, definitely not!" Vivs' quick to catch on to what her girlfriend was about to say and protests against the idea, "You heard what Y/N was like in Melbourne, I'm goin' to Scotland-- I'm not dealing with that!"
Spoiler alert, you do in fact end up going to Scotland.
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© scribblesofagoonerr
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saerins · 3 days
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ᯓ ᝰ RIGHT HERE .ᐟ — touya todoroki
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touya x female reader. content tags modern au, childhood sweetheart!touya, both are working adults, making out, mentions of infidelity/murder, he’s a tease. word count 1.7k
ᯓ notes .ᐟ haha can you tell i love touya too much rn ? just getting back into writing so have some of my touya :) thanks to any of you who read this <3
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“touya, you’re gonna make me late for work tomorrow,” you whine, pouting as he wins you in yet another round of super smash bros. (and hence you’d have to stay up and continue playing at his behest.)
beside you, touya smirks, rows of pearly white visible while he clearly enjoys tormenting you. “weren’t you the one who said you needed a distraction?”
you grumble as you take the couch pillow and hold it over your face, groaning in frustration. touya’s right; you’d called him right after dinner, practically forced him to come after you figured out that you’re actually not as strong you thought and you’re actually still really upset that your ex cheated on you.
it’s only pathetic because it’s already been a couple of months and you’re still wallowing over it somehow.
“you know, i bet all that frustration will go away if you just let me kill that fucker,” touya tells you, flicking your forehead as leans forward, yanking the cushion off your face.
unamused, you deadpan at him. “yeah? then what am i gonna do when you’re in jail, huh?”
touya snickers, “aww, what? can’t handle being without me?”
in a strange way, your honest answer is definitely not. you’ve known touya forever. ever since you were five and your families connected at a preschool event. ever since your friend fuyumi introduced you to her brother. ever since touya confided in you how much he hated his father.
fast forward more than a decade later and you’re both sitting in your apartment, in a different state than either of your families, still as close as you were when you were kids.
you glare at touya, rolling your eyes before scrunching your nose and smirking at him. “actually, go ahead, i’ll go find myself a better guy while you rot in the cell.”
your best friend scoffs, cocking a brow and looking like he’s offended. “i off someone for you and you don’t marry me immediately? the fuck is wrong with you?”
the shit-eating grin that dawns on his face immediately after makes your heart skip a beat. yeah, you’ve always found him attractive, maybe even had a crush on him back in high school, but he’d always had girls after girls, and somewhere along the way you learned to stuff those flimsy emotions back down.
until you remember that he’s been single for a while now, and the fact that you’re both working adults with all the freedom in the world.
fuck, you really shouldn’t go back there.
“haha, funny,” you try to wave it off sarcastically. “says the one who told his ex that he just sees me as a little sister.”
he laughs, leaning back against the couch, a hand behind his head, abs sticking out from the edge of his shirt. it takes you a second to rein yourself in, not wanting to get teased relentlessly by him if you get caught staring.
“hey, she was getting jealous of me spending so much time with you! what was i supposed to say?”
yes, you’re aware. most of them were. most of the time you never told touya about any of that; of how his girlfriends were coming up to you, all insecure about your friendship and asking if you could back off. that was the most common thing among all his relationships: the girls’ pleas for you to keep a distance.
you did… the first few times.
and after his fifth relationship, you realised that touya would always pull you back close. would always end up breaking up with them if your friendship is causing them too much worry.
“you didn’t have to say anything, maybe you should’ve just kept your distance, you know? since most of them seemed to have a problem with it,” you comment, trying to act as nonchalant as possible, though even you don’t believe yourself.
a life without touya is unimaginable for you. even if you can’t really say the same for him.
touya sighs, shifting in his position before ultimately putting an arm around you, pulling you close. he smells like your soap and his hair against your face tickles.
he’s always like this; always touchy, always close. recently he’s been more than usual, coming over and sleeping the night (you never did anything physical!), chasing other guys away at the club because they’re not good enough for you.
and when he’s like that, you think maybe there’s no harm in letting those long-lost feelings flow back.
it’s dangerous.
he’s always like this. always way too much for you to handle. and yet you can’t live without him.
and then he does something he’s never done before.
you feel his lips on your temple, and you hear the chuckle reverberating from his throat. his left arm around you holds you tight, not that you’re running anywhere—you’re pretty sure you’re frozen stiff from the shock.
did that really happen?
“how can i do that when you’re the only one i want?”
you’re sure that’s his voice. it can’t be anyone else’s. but you’re not sure if you believe him. is he really saying what you think he’s saying?
slowly, you turn to face him, expecting him to wear that smug grin and tease you for being so gullible but it never comes. instead, you’re greeted with his half-lidded eyes, blue pupils staring at your lips like he’s hypnotised, his thumb caressing your lower lip from left to right like he’s trying to memorise all the grooves.
it’s so soft that you barely recognise your own voice when it comes, “touya, kiss me.”
and maybe he’s always wanted to, because he doesn’t miss a beat. the second you open your mouth, he’s giving you what you asked for, his tongue prying your lips open and he tastes just like the warm in winter mornings, like the comfort people always dream about.
mint. you can taste the sweet from when he ate it right before he beat you in the game. you can feel the cold on the tip of your nose from when you brush against the piercings on his nostrils. you can feel him carry you onto his lap, feel his hands wrapping around your waist. you can feel his heartbeat under his chest, under your palm, almost as erratic as your own.
were you really just upset over someone else?
every relationship you’d been sad over suddenly didn’t seem to make sense anymore. not when touya’s right here, lips locked with yours and telling you more with his kiss than you’ve ever heard from his words.
by the time you pull away, both of you are breathless, his hand on your cheek, lips softly brushing over your own like he can’t bear to be away even for just a second. you can’t bring yourself to open your eyes, half overwhelmed and half confused.
“fuck, did we really just—”
“shh,” you hush him, putting a finger on his lips, suddenly embarrassed. your foreheads are still pressed together, and you can’t see it but he’s admiring your face, holding himself back from just kissing you even more.
touya moves your finger away. he whispers your name in the most gentle tone you’ve ever heard, “does that mean you feel the same?”
you swallow the lump in your throat, tongue-tied and still straddling your best friend on the couch. you’re just a single impulsive action away from going all the way.
dangerous.
pulling back even further, you’re about to make a break for your bedroom when touya pulls you back, making sure you face him.
“no running this time,” he tells you, voice raspy and his eyes flicking from your eyes to your nose and your lips but mostly your lips. “i want you,” he whispers, and the minute you lock gazes, the answer has never been more clear to you.
“i want you too, touya,” you answer, both excited and afraid but he never lets you harp on things too much because he’s already kissing you silly, barely letting you breathe—you don’t have to guess with him; he wants you so desperately you can feel it in his actions.
“touya, we should stop,” you whine, knowing that this might be going way too quick yet you want it all the same.
touya shakes his head, big hands slipping under your shirt and squeezing your waist. “no, don’t wanna stop,” he whispers into your mouth.
he’s about to pull your shirt over your head when the loud shrill of his phone interrupts. he would’ve tossed it to the side if you hadn’t taken it and insisted he should take it. it’s from shoto, after all. (he doesn’t call often, it’s a complicated relationship.)
grumbling, touya leans back, keeping your thighs in place so you can’t move away. he’s smirking at you as he answers, “shoto, what is it?”
you can’t hear his brother over the phone. you can only guess snippets of the conversation from touya’s end.
“huh.”
“what for?”
“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”
“yeah, yeah, whatever.”
when he finally puts it down, he pulls you close by the chin, a glint of mischief in his grin. “get ready, doll.”
“huh? for what?”
touya gives you a peck on the lips. “family’s visiting, a surprise or whatever. they’re already in the city.”
you blink, praying he’s not being serious and wishing it’s not what you’re thinking. “okay, have fun!”
“and where do you think you’re going?” touya laughs, pulling you back down after you barely got back up.
“go spend some time with them, it’ll be fun.”
“oh i’m sure it’ll be fun,” he smirks, typing something into his phone and sending the message before you can sneak a peek.
you’re almost too scared to ask. but you do. “and why’s that?”
touya chuckles, thinking you’re way too stubborn, playing dumb even if it’ll kill you. but he guesses it’s fine if he has to spell it out for you. “because i wanna re-introduce you.”
“wait, what do you mean?”
with a gentle smile and a poke on your forehead, he looks you in the eyes. “i’m gonna introduce them to my future wife.”
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cheeseceli · 3 days
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When they have a crush
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Pairing: ot7 BTS × Gn!reader (individually)
Genre: headcanon, fluff
Request: types of dumb or random things bts members will do while they are crushing on someone and wants their attention?
Warnings: mentions of food at jin's
A/n: I feel like I'm getting better at making the layout of these posts :)
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Jin
‌This man ain't even trying to bring out his boyfriend material
‌He's going for the husband material
‌Cooks for you quite a lot
‌Always bringing you some lunch or just a few baked goodies (and never allowing the boys to eat it beforehand)
‌Runs errands with you because he "has nothing better to do" when in reality he's just desperate to be with you for a while
‌He even has "cleaning dates" with you😭
‌I see him to be a huge fan of domesticity ngl
‌So if there's anything he can do to bring out this side in your relationship, even if you're only on the friendship stage yet, you can bet that's what he's gonna do
‌And he 100% expects your friends to make the "you seem like an old married couple" jokes because !!
‌That's precisely his goal!!
‌Once he gets to know your family, he even wants your family to be expecting the day you'll both start to date
‌Jin is just the definition of husband material and he knows it, that's how he tries to make you look at him
Suga
‌Stick to the end and hear me out
‌Jokes
‌I know how that sounds but I promise you it makes sense😭
‌Yoongi is the typa guy to be effortlessly (and questionably) funny
‌Like that one time the staff said "whoever has the ball wins" and he replied with "then we are all winners"
‌However !
‌He keeps on doing those jokes like he'd always do
‌But now he unconsciously looks at your direction
‌Would you laugh? Would you find it weird? Did you even pay attention?
‌If, after developing this crush of him, he notices that you actually laugh at his jokes
‌You can be sure he'll do them a lot
‌But it's so subtle you don't even notice he's doing it to make you laugh/have your attention
‌However, he does pay attention to you quite a lot so he can always be the first one to notice your smile growing
J-hope
‌Endless excuses to see you
‌He will purposely "forget" his things at your place just so he can go back there (and forget some more things)
‌It's an infinite cycle
‌Sometimes he will accidentally leave his sweatshirts with you
‌And then he'll be like "could you give it back to me? We can go to that restaurant I was telling you about and then you can give it to me"
‌But then he will tell you that the night is cold so it's okay if you want to wear his sweatshirt while you're both out
‌And then he also forgets to take it back
‌Wow who would ever imagine this could happen
‌So now you both need to see each other again because he really wants that sweatshirt
‌Bro is still trying to grow the courage to properly ask you out
‌So even if you do catch up on his small antics, please engage on it
‌He just needs a little bit of impulse 😭
Namjoon
‌Whenever he wants your attention, he starts to talk
‌And with that I mean he TALKS
‌Won't shut up for a second
‌And he won't even make sense, bro is talking about the dumbest and more random things you could ever imagine
‌ "I wouldn't want to live in mars, it sounds depressing. Neptune sounds cool though, don't you think?"
‌Like?? How do you want me to answer to that hun😭
‌But it's kinda sweet because he becomes a professional yapper to gain your attention, but once he gets it he let's you do all the talking
‌He didn't really want to talk, he just wanted you to be there with him
‌So you can talk all you want, he will pay attention to every single word with a little smile on his face
Jimin
‌Deadass stares at you
‌Not in a creepy way tho, just in a "please look at me I really want your attention right now"
‌And will keep on staring at you until you give in
‌Heavy on physical touch as well
‌At this stage of your relationship, everything is friendly of course
‌Because he is scared of letting you know he's in love with you💀 even if that's pretty much the whole point
‌However
‌He still craves a lot of your touch
‌Hugs all the time, holds and plays with your hand, the same goes to your hair...
‌Sometimes you can't even go somewhere without him following you like a shadow
‌Trust me, if he wants your attention he will find a way to have it
Taehyung
‌He will ask for it
‌Like, literally
‌I see him as a very straightforward person so he'll just be like "y/n pay attention to me"
‌Multiple times, until you actually do stop whatever you were doing and look at him
‌And his reaction will be like 😄
‌I see him doing this slightly more subtly when he's trying to get your attention from someone else
‌If he feels you're talking to Jin, for example, for a very long while now, he won't hesitate on sitting next to you
‌And kinda throwing himself on top of you
‌lmao scratch what I said, that's not subtle at all
‌But at least he doesn't say what he wants from you out loud ig
Jungkook
‌You think this man is competitive?
‌That's because you haven't seen him trying to impress you
‌Are you watching the dance practice? You can bet that Jungkook is giving 3 times his all
‌Are you watching the recording? Bro becomes Mariah Carey in two seconds
‌The boys' biggest fear is when they are playing basketball or something like that and you're watching it
‌They KNOW they are going to lose
‌It can be a 6×1, nothing is stopping him from impressing you like that
‌But if you're the one playing against him? He's probably gonna win the match no matter what, but he's going to be extremely soft at least!
‌Please do compliment him on how he was, he needs to know it was worth it😭
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Masterlist | you'll probably like: when you're rejected by your crush
Thank you for reading <3
Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans
Credits for images 1 , 2 and 3
Dividers by @k1ssyoursister
209 notes · View notes
Text
My dear lgbt+ kids,
It's difficult to write anything about the safety of Pride events without either greatly downplaying or exaggerating the potential risks of attending.
This is, at least partly, an online issue: the internet is international but there’s no international standard of safety for lgbt+ people. Someone reading this blog may be from a country where Pride events are generally safe and counterprotests are uncommon (or at least stay small and nonviolent) - but it'd be grossly negligent of me to pretend that this is true for everyone everywhere.
On top of those differences by country or location, there’s also individual safety concerns. Some things may pose a potential risk to certain groups or individuals while other people are unlikely to be negatively affected by them. This includes factors like crowds, loud music, exposure to alcohol or drugs etc. but also factors like the risk of being seen by someone who knows you or the risk of racist or antisemitic attacks etc.
All this is to say: I will happily share some general advice on safety with you – but if you’re trying to make a personal decision regarding the safety of attending Pride (regardless of whether that is “Is it safe for me to attend an event at all?” or just “How can I prepare for an event, so it’s as comfortable and fun as possible for me?”), don’t rely solely on me… or on any one voice you hear online. They may be in a totally different situation than you and inadvertently give you a totally wrong picture of it!
Tip Number One actually ties in with everything I said above: do you have friends (or other trusted people) who have attended Pride in your area before? If so, they may be a more reliable source of advice than a stranger online! Maybe you could even ask them to come along? Having an experienced Pride-goer with you is one of the best ways to ensure a safe and comfortable experience.
Other tips and pieces of advice that may be helpful:
Look the location up before you arrive: Which public transport stations are nearby? Where would you go if you need to buy a quick snack? Are there public toilets available? Where’s the nearest hospital or emergency room? Also note your surroundings when you arrive: Where are the exits? Are there any easily recognizable spots you could look for if you get lost? Where will you meet up with your friends or group if you accidentally get separated from them? 
Make a plan beforehand and share it with at least one trusted person. Let them know where you are going, who you are going with, how you plan to get there and back home (public transit, your own car, your friend’s car etc.) and when you intend to be back home. Make sure to keep them updated on any changes in your plans and ask them to check in regularly. Also agree on what they should do if they haven’t heard from you at the agreed time.
If you go with a friend or a group, agree beforehand how you’ll handle potential scenarios: what if one person wants to go home and the other(s) want to stay? What if one of you gets separated from the other(s)? (Don’t rely solely on texting/calling each other in such cases (phones can unexpectedly die, get lost, get stolen, have no cell service etc.))
Pride events often take place in summer, so make sure to keep sun/heat safety in mind! Wear sunscreen, stay hydrated, don't overexhaust yourself in hot weather and read up on the symptoms of (and first aid for) heat exhaustion.
If you want to stay safe and alert, your best bet is to stay sober. Don’t drink alcohol or take drugs. (If you do plan to do either of these things, then please keep basic harm reduction measures in mind: don’t drink on an empty stomach, don’t mix alcohol and meds, have at least one person in your group who stays sober, don’t drink & drive etc.) 
Make sure to take everything with you that you may need, such as a water bottle, snacks, any necessary medications, face masks, first aid supplies, a portable charger for your phone, emergency contact info (written down in case your phone dies), sunscreen etc.
Learn your rights when it comes to getting stopped by police (Make sure that what you read up on is actually true for your country and is up to date).
Read up on safety precautions for chemical irritation if the use of pepper spray/tear gas is a concern in your area. Same goes for active shooter situations. It may be a worst case scenario but it’s better to read up beforehand if it’s something you worry about.
Don’t engage with counterprotesters. Even if they seem nonviolent, keep in mind that they may just be waiting for you to provoke them, so they can “justify” escalating to violence. Just keep your distance, don’t talk to them, don’t let them bait you into conversation. 
Lastly, you want to keep everyone else safe too, so: make sure you don’t accidentally out anyone. Pride is supposed to be a safe space. Don’t take pictures of strangers, don’t upload anything on social media that shows anyone’s face or name if you didn’t get explicit permission to do so. 
With all my love,
Your Tumblr Dad
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babiexiao · 2 days
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you belong with me
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✰ . . . bridgerton au, gojo is meant to be a viscount, fem!reader / fem!pronouns used, secret relationship kinda???, mention of arranged marriage, secret meetings (no cheating though) fluff & smut, fingering, ooc gojo idk he’s lovesick and shit, kinda olden day language that i don't think is 100% correct but idc the brainrot is too strong at this point for me to care therefore you shouldn't either <3
✰ . . . 2.5k words i don't know how we got here
✰ . . . i uhhhh binge watched bridgerton in less than a week and i am having the most scandalous thoughts and scenarios about it.. like i am vibrating at the speed of light waiting for the second part to drop tonight LMFAO this is just pure word vomit and brainrot and it's probably shit because i don't remember the last time i sat and wrote smth this long... but oh well !!! i also SUCK at titles thanks taylor swift for having this song
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Satoru Gojo loves a good thrill. The thrill of betting his money on horse races or boxing matches. The thrill of playing pranks on the maids or the cooks. The thrill of having all eyes on him as he walks into a room. He knows everyone will stare considering his wealth and the status of his family but it still feels good, feeds his ego. His favourite thrill however? The one where he meets with you in secret. Just thinking about sneaking away from the public eye, trying to find a quiet place where you two could have time alone, where you could kiss and touch each other, sent goosebumps all over his body. It excited him.
You're not sure why you let him coax you into it though. As a lady, you should be prim and proper, present at the balls or social gatherings. You're meant to be talking to your friends or making conversation with respectable suitable gentlemen, or in the midst of getting courted. Perhaps it is because Gojo Satoru is a breath of fresh air in such a repetitive lifestyle that you keep sneaking off in the middle of the gatherings to see him, and it's certainly no different tonight.
In the middle of the ball, you see Satoru’s tall figure slip past a group of people and off into the shadows. To avoid being seen as suspicious, you need to wait a few moments before you too find yourself following after him. The minutes of waiting around feel like hours however, your feet are itching to just walk off and run to him, but you can't. It would be seen as outrageous for a lady to be seen with any man alone, it would cause an uproar within the community, spreading amongst the partygoers and even the ones who didn’t come within a matter of hours.
Then finally, after what feels like eons, you excuse yourself from the people you were chatting with. You're glad the ladies you were with are attempting to woo the gentlemen that had approached the group by fluttering their hand fans and blinking excessively. Quietly, you make your way towards the corridors. The females are too busy trying to gossip and the men are trying to prove their wealth or talk about their mistresses which makes slipping away into the shadows easier.
You are quite lucky that it was your family who was responsible for today's ball. It made it easy to find a secluded place where you and Satoru could meet without having to worry about a member of the ton or one of your maids accidentally finding the two of you alone, god forbid that from happening. You hold your dress up so you don't trip over it, walking briskly to one of your many gardens at the back of your family's estate. It is dark outside and the air is now chilly, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up as you slow down and try to squint in the darkness, attempting to spot your favourite white haired male.
"Oh? What do we have here? A rather fine young lady, all alone. With no one around... but me." You'd recognise that teasing voice anywhere and you're immediately spinning around to face him with a smile on your face.
"Lord Gojo." A pout on his face grows almost immediately as you bend at your knees to bow at him, a gesture of respect that has been conditioned into your very being since you were a little girl.
"I thought I told you to call me–"
"Just Satoru, yes. I am well aware of that." The use of his first name has him smiling almost as quickly as he had pouted, and in only a couple of steps he is directly in front of you, chest in your line of sight. You have to tilt your head upwards to get a good look at his handsome face.
"I have to say, I rather enjoy the way my name falls from your lips." He's not slick with his eye movements, tongue darting over to lick at his plump pink lips while his eyes glance at your mouth and back to hold your gaze again. "You make it sound... Pretty."
"Well, it is a pretty name for a pretty boy. Your mother did well at picking it."
"Darling, as much as I adore my own mother, I did not ask you to meet with me so I could listen to you praise her."
"Oh Satoru!" You have to cover your mouth so you don't laugh out loud and garner unwanted attention. "Are you jealous of your mother?"
"I am not!" He hushes you, thankful that you are meeting in darkness and the only light is from the moon so you don't see the blush of embarrassment on his cheeks. "Not of her at least."
You are about to open your mouth to ask what he means but he beats you to it. "Lord Basset was rather close to you... Was he not?"
"He spoke to me for a mere two minutes, if that, Satoru. Besides, all he asked was how my family was doing, nothing more."
"Two minutes too many if you ask me." There is a slight growl in his voice as he mumbles unhappily, large hands pulling you close to his frame by your hips.
"Perhaps you need to start courting me in public."
"Sweetheart." He sighs, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours. "The sooner my father realises I do not wish to marry the woman he has chosen for me, the better. It is torment trying to stay away from you in public. Mother is attempting to talk to him now, I think she may know I have someone else I would rather be courting."
You feel him furrow his eyebrows, scrunching them up as he speaks and thinks about the marriage his father is trying to get him to agree to. His father is a businessman, and the marriage, If Satoru agrees, would give them more wealth and more power – Something that the Gojo family already has ample amount of according to Satoru but it was not enough for his father.
"Toru," You begin, voice barely above a whisper. "I can wait for you. I will wait, do not worry about that."
"What did I do to deserve such an understanding woman like you?" Satoru exhales deeply, letting out a breath of air he did not realise he was holding all this time.
"For one, forcefully drag me to meet with you secretly."
"What a strange way to say I wooed you with my charms."
“What charms exactly?”
“Oh, you know. My pretty face, my sense of humour, how witty I am– oh! Lets not forget how tall I am.” You’re holding back a laugh as he lists off his so-called charms to you.
“Let us not forget how you were looking not so subtly at my hands when we first met either. Or my pants, not very ladylike of you, is it?”
“That is not my fau–”
“Oh so you are blaming me for your pervertedness?!” He gasps rather too loudly and you’re quick to cover his mouth with panic.
“Satoru! Please… Keep it down!” You’re whisper-yelling at him, heart pounding as you look around with fear.
He just hums against your hand over his mouth, rubbing your waist as he removes it and kisses the tips of your fingers gently. “You are afraid of being seen with me.”
“Unchaperoned, yes. You are well aware of how everyone will talk about a lady being seen alone with a man such as yourself.”
“Would it not be for the best if we were seen by someone though? Then, I would be forced to marry my little secret, and my father would be forced to give up on his ridiculous quest to marry me off.”
You can’t find yourself to talk back to him and put his crazy idea to rest because he did have a point, unfortunately.
“Sweetheart,” He began, peppering kisses on the tips of your fingers to your wrist, all the way to your inner arm and eventually leading his lips to your neck. “Please, let us be caught.”
“S–Satoru– We can’t… The public scrutiny, the ton–”
“Fuck what the ton has to say. I feel as if I am dying from not having you by my side. Do you know how bad I want to kiss you? How I want to promenade with you, to show you off to the men, to let everyone know you are mine and mine only just as how I belong only to you?”
Satoru’s hands wander to the curve of your ass as he speaks his heart out, large hands groping the flesh best he could over layers and layers of your clothes. You feel him breathing heavily against the skin of your neck, which is soon followed by him inhaling your scent with his eyes closed shut. Then, he’s cupping the side of your face, thumb rubbing over your bottom lip which has him gulping as he waits for verbal consent.
“Satoru. Touch me.”
And he wastes no time in doing so, capturing your lips in a rather messy and sloppy kiss that you are sure will do nothing but mess up the expensive lipstain you are wearing.
You push him further into the shadows where you know not a soul will be able to see you two from the lack of light. He’s against the brick wall and he lets out a small grunt into the kiss but makes no effort to pull away from your mouth. Instead, he takes a hold of your waist and spins the two of you around so now you are hidden in the shadows. By chance, if someone was to see the both of you, your body would be hidden and you wouldn’t be exposed.
Satoru always kisses you with passion, as if there’s a fire burning inside of his body that only you can put out but something about this particular kiss feels far too different to any kiss you have shared before. It feels more urgent. More desperate, you can physically feel it with how hard his lips press against your own. How he grunts and groans into the kiss, how his hand is now cupping the nape of your neck to keep you in place while the other pulls your waist into his own crotch. It allows you to feel the hardness in his pants against your stomach and has you letting out your own set of whimpers.
Momentarily, he pulls back to allow you to breathe. “Let us be caught.”
“Do not try and convince me when you have made my head go dizzy with lack of air.”
“Perfect time, is it not? Come on sweetheart, do you not want to have all of me? To feel all of me?”
“You are a disgusting pervert.” There’s no bite behind it however. Not when your thigh is being wrapped around Satoru’s waist and you feel his hands inch further and further up your thighs.
“Yeah? Why don’t you say that again, you know I love it when you call me names.”
If you weren’t seconds from being fingered, maybe you would have hit his shoulder but you feel the pads of his fingers rub your mound over your undergarments before you could do so.
You’re sighing in pleasure as he continues to tease you over the fabrics but you grow impatient. It’s not as if you haven’t been in this very compromising position before, you’re well aware of how long the white haired male can tease you for, how much he loves it. But when you are in public, only a couple of hundred yards away from the partygoers on your own estate, it is not the time for hours upon hours of teasing, especially not against a brick wall.
“Toru, please. More…”
He pretends not to hear you, keeping a straight face as he keeps on holding your thigh up as the other hand continues to touch you but not really give you what you truely need.
“Toruuu, now is not the time to be a tease.”
“Oh? What’s that? I couldn’t quite hear you sweetheart. Would you mind speaking a little louder for me?”
“Satoru!”
“Y/N!”
Your head tilts back out of anger, hitting against the brick wall behind you with a gentle thud. You despise how he’s choosing to act with you right now.
“Say it.” He speaks, but it’s not using that annoying, teasing tone of his he usually gives you when you want him to touch you more. It’s serious. “Say you are mine.”
His eyes lock onto yours, keeping eye contact as he waits for your answer.
You do not keep him waiting, cupping the side of his face as you speak with sincerity. “I am yours, just as you are mine.”
Satoru feels his cock twitch in his trousers, wanting nothing more than to be balls deep in you right after you said that, but not yet. He can wait, he will wait for you to marry him before taking away your virginity. He’s a gentleman, albeit that gentlemanly honour is hanging by a mere thread when you speak about belonging to him with that pretty voice of yours.
But his fingers are quick to push your undergarments to the side and allow you to truly feel his touch in all its glory. Even in the darkness, he knows exactly where to touch, and he finds the little nub that makes you feel good with ease that it’s almost scary. He allows his fingertips to make circles on it, and you’re burying your face in the suit jacket he’s wearing to drown out your noises that you know will get louder and louder.
His digits have you so riled up and wet in a matter of minutes that his fingers are easily buried in your warmth with one swift move.
You always feel full, how could you not when he has such large hands and long fingers. “Feels— so good, ‘Toru.”
“I know sweetheart.”
“Much better than when I do it to myself…” You know he loves hearing words that boost his ego and god, did it make him feel things. It garners a low growl from him, and he’s pumping his fingers into you with such vigour you swear you two will be caught with just how loud the skin slapping and sloppy noises are.
It does not take long for you to reach your high, two digits in your pussy whilst one rubbed your clit and you’re cumming with shaky thighs and a soft cry of the man’s name, thankful that he’s holding the back of your head and pushing your face into his chest so you don’t accidentally moan out loud.
“Marry me.” He whispers, forehead resting against your own as you pant and come down from your orgasm.
“Get me a ring and I will say yes in a heartbeat and fight your father for your hand in marriage, Satoru.”
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i also can’t write endings for shit rip me </3
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berryz-writes · 3 days
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You're mine, sweetheart
Summary: Theo cheers you up after a shit day
Theodore Nott x reader
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Pansy looked me up and down, hate simmering in her eyes. She scoffed "Don't tell me that's what your wearing. You look like an absolute slag"
After being best friends with her for our first few years and realising how toxic she really was I had tried to keep my distance from her but she didn't get the hint and instead liked to comment on each and every thing I did. Of course the comments hurt me but maybe after the years they just didn't hurt as much. Maybe I was immune now. The dress I had chosen for this nights party was a short green dress, something to celebrate our Quidditch win but of course the dress didn't live up to her expectations. What was really annoying was she wore a similar dress just a few weeks back but according to her I was the one who looked like a slag.
"I think it looks nice Pansy"
I turned to my mirror and applied a light pink lip gloss that was almost finished because of the amount of times I had used it. I couldn't be bothered arguing with her tonight. I wasn't about to let her ruin my mood.
"I bet you tried finding the shortest dress in that store"
I rolled my eyes "What are you on about?" I was getting tired of her stupid, annoying comments.
"You know exactly what I'm on about. Don't think Theo's gonna fuck you after this, honey. Your just like all the other desperate bitches at the party"
I gritted my teeth together and put my lip gloss down trying to appear as unaffected as I could. "Fuck off. Jealousy isn't a good look on you"
I walked past her, tears forming in my eyes. Before I could leave she made sure to mutter "Once a whore, always a whore". I let my feet carry me outside to the warm summer evening where the sun was setting. I walked around the lake trying to blink away the tears so my makeup wouldn't be ruined. Was there any point of going to the party? No, probably not.
I sat down on hill, the freshly mowed grass making a soft carpet for me to relax on. Me and Theo had sat hear many times before whether it was to have a late night snack or to miss lessons. It was a comforting place.
I sat there until the sun set and soon it got darker. Almost too dark. My thoughts had cleared now. My tears no longer trying to make an appearance. Maybe I could join the party. Just because one person was being an ass didn't mean everyone else would be.
As I was contemplating on whether I should stand up or not someone cleared their throat behind me. I raised my wand instantly expecting...well something scary I guess.
It was in fact Theo holding a small golden lantern. I didn't bother standing up and instead waited for him to flop down next to me.
"My favourite person isn't going to congratulate me on my performance today?" He placed the lantern between us so we were both bathed in a warm orange light. I could just about make him out, his features looking almost worried.
"You were good." I said. I didn't have the social battery to talk to him right now even if he had done nothing wrong.
He smiled at me "I know. What's up with you? Your usually dragging me to parties but instead your...well from my point of view it looks like your mourning your rabbit"
I let out a small laugh. Even at times like these he could make me laugh. "I just don't understand. Why is it so hard for some people to be nice?"
Theo shrugged "They're probably insecure. Or jealous."
"Yeah. Probably"
We sat in silence for another few minutes before Theo stood up stretching out his hand to me "Come on, sweetheart. Your the life of the party. It's no fun without you"
I stood up and handed him the lantern instead "You can be the life of the party tonight. I'm tired"
"Don't let someone ruin what you want to do. Y/n you love parties. You've never missed one. Unless you really are tired, I'll respect your decision and walk with you to your room"
I contemplated my options. I could do what I really wanted to do which was go to the party and enjoy life with my friends or I could get cosy in my bed and feel like a coward for the next week. He was right. No one got to influence what I wanted to do.
"Your playing truth or drink with me then"
He grinned at me "Whatever you want, sweetheart"
As we walked back inside the castle from a more hidden entrance Theo made sure to hold my hand because apparently he "didn't want me to trip and get hurt". Whatever the reason was it didn't stop butterflies from forming in my stomach.
I had to blink at the sudden brightness of the corridors, the light finally letting me see Theo clearly. He had dropped my hand and instead was surveying me.
Theo's eyes took their time on inspecting my outfit, hungrily devouring the way the dress emphasised my curves. He finally brought his gaze up to look at me, his eyes slightly darker than usual "You look absolutely divine"
I smiled at the compliment "If you weren't my best friend, I'd say you were flirting with me"
He raised an eyebrow "Maybe I am. It's quite hard not to when my best friend is so fucking gorgeous" My cheeks heated at his words, my dress feeling a little too tight all of a sudden. I think I needed to sit down after that.
He extended his arm so I could wrap my hand around it. "I can't wait to tell everyone we're dating"
I paused. What did he say? "If that's ok with you" He added hastily.
I thought about what he said. Had I always imagined what it would be like if Theo asked me out and we weren't just best friends anymore? Of course I did. Every single second of every single day.
"That's fine with me"
He smiled again, a small dimple appearing in his left cheek "Then it's settled. Your mine, sweetheart. And I'm yours" 
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freebooter4ever · 3 days
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geno front and center ^_^ also i asked the Coolest 90s animator ive ever met for critique on the geno renders and he called them 'drawings' and i havent decided if thats something i should correct or not yet. but if im fooling people into thinking they're drawings instead of 3D renders that's probably a good sign. but also a bad sign because does that mean recruiters will overlook it thinking its just concept art?
i hate computers.
but i think what i concluded was that instead of sending people just the one action render, i will send that PLUS a link to the turn around saved to my drive.
edit: just looking at it as its own image my portfolio as a whole still really screams 'girl' and 'colorful' doesnt it? sigh. people keep telling me i need to stop that but unfortunately unless i am being forced like in the case of following an art director i think its just gonna stay colorful.
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neo404 · 3 days
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Ride or die.
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Summary: Nick and latino boyfriend. NSFW. Also, Sub Nick (cus I know you all love that shit)
“Come on, it will be fun.” Nick begs as I roll my eyes at him. he got invited to another party this month, I feel like I will die if I go to another party, I just wanted to relax with him tonight, but I can’t resist his pretty eyes and his cute outfit. “I’m already changed, come on. Please.”
“Ugh.” I sigh, and consider what options I have.
“Please, amor. (amor)” Nick grins and sits on my left leg, his arms wrapping around my neck. “Please, I don’t wanna go alone.” He whispers against my ear. My arm wraps around his waist and I look up at him.
“All right.” Nick immediately jumps out of my lap and runs to grab his phone, sending an audio to whoever invited him saying that he is going with me and to wait for us. I roll my eyes because I can’t believe how weak I am for him.
In out way to the party Nick was extra sweet and loving with me, his way of thanking me. The party house was big, as usual, filled with people, music and alcohol. We walk inside, my hand on Nick waist, we pass throw the drunk people and get to a big living room where a few of our friends were sitting and chatting. Some girl approaches Nick and make him sit besides her while they talk, I sit next to Chris and he offers me a bear.
“Hi man. Thought you guys were gonna chill at you place.” He says loudly so I can hear him over the music.
“Yeah, you know how it is. If the prince wants something he gets it.” Chris laughs, after I finish the bear I join the conversation fully, laughing and catching up with a few of them.
After two or three bears I feel relaxed, I lean back on the couch, a brand-new bear on my hand, the music vibrating throw my body. I feel a little tap on my shoulder takes me out of my trance, I turn around and Madi is standing there.
“Hi, I just wanted to let you know that Nick is dancing over there, my legs hurt a bit and I wanted to sit down, just so you know where he is.” She smiles warmly at me and I follow her finger until I see Nick dancing and jumping here and there. I smile at her.
“Thanks, Mads.” She goes to sit with the rest of the group. I lean back on the couch again, the cold liquor hitting my throat when I sip it, I spread my legs to try and adjust the growing problem in my pants. I smile at myself while admiring Nicks body dancing to the loud music. When I finish the bottle, I put it on the ground and stand up, walking slowly but decided to him. when I’m behind him I grab him by the waist and press him against me.
“You alone, lindo? (cutie).” I whisper against his hear. I feel him giggle, but he doesn’t stop swaying his hips from side to side.
“No, I’m here with my boyfriend.”
“Oh, are you?”
“Yep.”
“I don’t see him.” I kiss the back of his ear, making his back arch a bit.
“He knows how to fight.”
“Bet he does. What else?”
“He is super rude.”
“Really? And why a niño bonito (pretty boy) like you is with such a mean guy?”
“He is good to me.” Nick turns around, his arms wrapping against my neck, our chest touching. “So good to me.” He kisses my cheek and I roll my eyes.
“Hi, guapo (handsome).” I kiss him back. “Madi told me she ditched you.”
“She didn’t ditch me.” he rolls his eyes. “So… you came so I wasn’t dancing alone?”
“I mean, I don’t mind watching you dance alone. It was a really nice, I might ask you to dance for me more often.” His cheeks light up a bit. “A little show just for me, what do you think?”
“Maybe… I’ll have to think about it.”
“What a tease…” I grab him by the waist and pull him closer to me, my hardness pressing against his soft tummy. “Let’s go home.”
“But-“ I move my hips a bit, rubbing a bit more onto him, his cheeks grow redder and he bites his lip. “Okay, I’ll tell them you are sleepy, go turn on the car.” I smile widely, grab him by the hair and pull him into a sloppy wet kiss, when I let him go, he is red and panting.
“I’ll wait for you on the car.” I go to the car, I wait maybe 5 or 8 minutes until Nick is inside the car and I quickly drive to my house, lucky for us it wasn’t that far away.
We stumble into the house, his shirt already on the floor when he pushes me against the door while locking it. Our hips meeting, rolling and pushing to get the friction we needed. I take off my shirt and push him, walking forwards while still kissing, the back of his knees hit the couch and he falls into it, I climb on top of him while unbuckling my belt.
“I’m gonna ruin you, god, I want to hear you scream tonight.” I leave my belt on the coffee table and take his pants off, a little wet stop on his boxers where his tip lies. I smile to myself while I attack his neck, leaving red marks all over it, my right hand rubbing and massaging his hard dick.
“Please, need you.” I bite down, my teeth leaving a mark close to his jaw. I slap his butt and sit up.
“Work for it.” He sits up to, his face blushed and a confused face. “Put on a show for me, come on, make me want to fuck you.” Nick looks down and bites his lips. He stands up, I open my legs so he is standing between them, his hips start to sway and roll, his pretty face all flushed as he dances for me. When I feel like I have had enough I pull him into my lap, the rough material of my jeans rubbing against the wet and soft cotton of his boxers, his hips start to buckle and roll on top of my clothed dick.
“Did I do a good job?”
“Claro, mi amor (of course, mi love). I loved it. You deserve to be ruined.” I smile, his lips meet mine, a hungry and needy kiss is shared between us, his hips never stop moving, my arms wrapped around his waist, grabbing and pushing down on his ass making our bodies be even closer. “Shit, I need you. Take those out.” I demand, when Nick starts to take off his boxers, I take my jeans and boxers out too, tossing them on the floor. Before Nick sits down on my lap again, I speak. “Pass me the belt.”
“W-what?”
“I think I spoke clearly, pass me the belt.” He gulps and grabs my belt from the coffee table. “Good boy, turn around for me.” When Nick turns around, he puts his hands behind him so I can tie them up. “It would be just like last time.” I kiss his lower back gently. “¿Por que tan nervioso? Recuerdo que esa noche me pedias que no parara (why so nervous? I remember that night you were begging me to not stop).” I laugh a bit and kiss above his elbow. “Turn around. On your knees.” I look down at him, my hard dick on my hand, his soft lips leave a sweet kiss on my tip, then he goes down on it, his head going up and down, up and down, his back arching prettily.
I groan and moan as he makes a mess out of me. “Enough, enough.” I say, my chest going up and down. I pat my lap. “Come on, you earned it.” Nick stands up, I grab him by the waist so he doesn’t lose balance, he straddles my hips, I grab the base of my length with one hand so its easier for him to slide down. When his hips meet mine, he lets out a loud moan.
“Fuck.” His chest heavily falls up and down. Nick hides his face on my shoulder and I feel him bite down on it.
“I know, I know.” After a few seconds I feel him starting rolling his hips. “That’s it. Good job.” Nick picks up the pace of his hips, starting gently bounce up and down, I throw my head up, my hands squeezing his plushy waist helping him move above me.
I can hear Nicks pants and moans against my neck, one of my heads leave his waist and goes to his hair, with a firm tug I make him look at me, his pupils dilated, his furrowed brows and watery eyes making him look so hot. I attack his mouth, our moans and groans suppressed by each others mouths. When Nick pulls away his gaze meets mine.
“You look so pretty bouncing for me.” I slap his ass, bot of my hands again on his waist, my thumb massaging and my fingers squeezing his flesh.
“Fuck- can’t, please.”
“Please, what?” he looks down where our hips meet, his lip between his teeth.
“Can I cum? Please.” he begs. I grab his waist firmly, making him stop his movements.
“¿Como decirte que no? (how could I say no to you?)” my hips buckle up, hitting the right spot with every thrust, his back arches, his moans are uncontrollable, I feel intoxicated by the way he says my name and his eyes are shut with pleasure. The wet noises mixing with the lovely sound of our bodies hitting together filling the room. I feel him clench around me, and with a loud moan his legs end up shacking, Nicks forehead against mine, his whole weight on top of me again, heave breaths leaving him, I give him a sweet kiss while he rolls his hips against me, the warmth of his cum all over my chest dripping down to my stomach.
Once his breath steadies, I speak. “Ready?” Nick just nods and hums. With a swift move I turn him around, his chest and face hitting the softness of the couch, his hips still attached to mine. “Come on babe, arch that pretty back.” I massage his lower back and lean in to kiss his shoulder when he arches his back. “Eso es (that’s it), good boy. Que obediente (how obedient).” The first thrust few thrusts are soft.
“Please…” Nick moans prettily, his eyes meeting mine over his shoulder.
“Dios… me vuelves loco (god… you drive me crazy.” My thrust increase speed and I try to hit as deep as I can, my hips rolling to make sure it feels extra good. I lean forward again, pushing his chest down with mine, I moan and bite down on his neck. “¿se siente bien? ¿si? Se que te encanta cuando hablo español, que sucio que eres. Dios, solo escúchate. (does it feel good? Yeah? I know you love it when I speak spanish. God, just hear yourself.) You sound like a slut.
“Fuck. Yes, ‘m yours, your slut.”
“Good boy. God, you are so hot.” I shut my eyes, biting down on his shoulder. “Close, baby.”
“M’too. Wannit inside. Please.” His hands grab down on the couch, his hips backing up against mine.
“As you wish.” My legs shake, my heart races. “Ah, mierda (Oh, fuck).” Nicks legs shake, his legs going limp, when I pull out my white seed falls from his insides. “Oh shit.” I try to catch my breath. Nick turns around, he is laying on his back, his vest going up and down heavily. “¿Como estas mi amor? (how are you, my love?)”
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Taglist: @freshloveforthefit @shywolfapricotfan @sturnphilia @matty-bear @thenickgirl @stvrniolvsp @paige05 @soursturniolo @miloisdone1 @teenagetrash00 @lovely-calypso @h3arts4harry @malirosee
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thirstywoso · 1 day
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Roses have thorns // Jessie Fleming x reader | part one
Preseason meetings
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A/N this will probably have multiple parts to it, soft, fluffy, angst maybe smut depends where it goes
Warning: none for this one
This is only short and introductory next parts will get more into it, wc: 1.5k
Part two
The first session of preseason was a struggle considering you'd only landed late last night after spending the off season back in your hometown. Like any professional athlete you had kept up with your fitness regime and was active even though you didn't have training, still you wasn't expecting to get so much of a sweat on. Then again it was always tough coming back into such physical training, you never did understand why the coaches went straight into the hard stuff instead of some prehab and gentle exercises.
Something you had missed about being at Portland was the amazing food that the team chef made. There was always an array of different choices and all of them were good. Delicious in fact. The other thing you liked about lunch was sitting with your teammates and catching up. Today you were particularly excited for as you hadn't seen much of your friends being back in London the last few months, not to say you didn't keep in touch it was just better in person. You were sat on your usual table when Janine walked up to the table to sit down.
Janine was your best friend at Portland, she took you under her wing and showed you around when you'd made the move over from Man City. She was a familiar face and your bond became even stronger once in the States. As she joined you, you saw a small figure behind her who shyly sat down.
"This is Jessie" Janine hummed as she picked up her fork putting some scrambled eggs into her mouth.
"She's on the Canadian National team with me" she carried on as she swallowed.
You let out a short laugh "I know who she is Becks, I've played her enough times when she was at Chelsea."
"And even if I didn't know her from back then she's the captain of Canada and a midfield prodigy, plus Rob did introduce her to the team this morning"
Janine rolled her eyes "I know I was just introducing you to each other, I don't know if you've ever officially met. With it being her first day I thought she could sit with us"
"You know I'm right here" Jessie mocked as she stuck her hand in your direction
"Nice to officially meet you y/n"
You shook her hand and exchanged pleasantries, Janine had told you that Jessie hadn't found a place since making the move from Chelsea and that she was staying in the spare room of her apartment.
By the end of lunch you had planned to grab coffee with both of them after training and head to Janine's place to relax and catch up.
Jessie seemed easy enough to get on with and you found yourself looking at her a few times during lunch noticing how her dark curls were swept up out of her face and her cheeks were freckled with a slight pink tint to them. Something about her made it hard to tear your eyes away.
After lunch you had filed into the gym with the other girls, as soon as you saw the cones set out you internally groaned knowing what was coming.
The dreaded beep test, looking around the room you could see the other girls having a similar reaction. All but one, Jessie was sporting a wide grin.
"Clearly you've never done this before or you're just crazy Fleming" You joked.
"Oh I've done this plenty of times, I'm just really good at it"
"Is that so?"
"Yup" she popped the p not breaking eye contact with you.
"I bet I can last longer than you!"
"What's the forfeit?" Her eyebrow raised as she asked.
"Loser buys coffee later"
"You've got yourself a deal y/l/n"
You shook hands and lined up with the other girls.
The test started and it seemed easier than usual, you smiled to yourself knowing this would be an easy win.
As it became more intense you saw more and more of your teammates dropping out and soon it was just you and Jessie left.
Your lungs began to feel that familiar burn, one that you sometimes craved when you wanted to forget about something and worked out hard to clear your mind.
After a few more rounds your vision started to blur and even though you were usually stubborn you stopped doubled over with your hands on your knees gasping for air.
Jessie swanned over placing one hand on your shoulder and her other sticking out towards you as you straightened up. You shook her hand without saying anything.
"Well played y/n, do you want my coffee order now or later?"
You just rolled your eyes still not fully catching your breath.
"I'll get you next time" you finally managed to huff out
Jessie just giggled to herself
You showered up and got changed after training. You had cycled there as did Jessie and Janine. Collectively realising it was bad idea when your legs were too heavy to ride back home.
You opted to walk to the coffee shop and get the bikes tomorrow. Fortunately your apartment that was only a few blocks from Janine's wasn't much more than a 15 minute walk.
On the corner of your block there was a coffee shop that you and Janine would frequent.
"This is Charlie's, they have the best coffee and pastries in all of downtown Portland" you stated matter of fact to Jessie as you held the door open for them both.
As promised you bought Jessie's coffee and wasn't surprised to see that it was a fairly basic coffee order other than a shot of vanilla. Yours being *your regular drinks order*. You'd also picked up some pastries, insisting that Jessie try them.
Just as you thought Jessie enjoyed her coffee and the pastries, well mostly.
"Okay so first you have a croissant" you looked at her expectantly as she took a bite and gave it a 5 out of 5
Next she tried a pain au chocolat, again that got full marks.
The final item was a cheese twist, Jessie took a bite and contemplated for a moment before giving it a 3
"A 3?! A 3!?"
"You must be out of your mind!"
"It's the best pastry they have going" You continued on.
"Oh no" Janine hid her face in her hands
"It's not bad. It's just not what I'd chose"
You held onto your chest and feigned hurt
"I can't believe you'd insult Charlie's cheese twists like that"
Janine rolled her eyes "don't worry she's alway this dramatic"
"Oh I can already tell" Jessie laughed
You'd only met Jessie properly for the first time a few hours ago but you already knew you enjoyed her little laugh and the way her soft hands felt in yours those few times she shook your hand.
On the way to Janine's you stopped at your apartment to change into some more relaxed clothing as you knew you'd probably just be sprawled on her couch the rest of the evening.
It was almost as if you hadn't been away for the last few months, you easily fell into conversation about anything and everything. Learning more about Jessie and also what your best friend had been up to on her break.
Jessie had told you about some of her hobbies and passions. One of which being photography, she had shown you some of the photos she had taken back in London and at home in Canada.
"Wow Jess, these are seriously impressive"
"Thanks" she blushed
"No honestly, it could be a career after you've finished playing" you complimented
"Have you ever been to the Japanese garden here? It's beautiful" you said after thinking for a second
"I haven't actually" Jessie stood up and opened the door to her room and you peered in after her
"As you can see by the boxes I've not been here long"
"So you've never been to Portland before?"
"Other than to sign the paper work where I was pretty much in and out" she began
"Then I got here two days ago and have been so busy sorting out my boxes and getting a new phone etc set up, you know how it is moving to the states after being in the UK" she explained
"I don't envy you, trying to sort my bank and phone plan out when I came over here was rough"
"Same when I came to Portland, yet it still hasn't made it easier to help Jessie" Janine sighed.
"Luckily I'm almost sorted now and will be able to actually see some of the city"
"Well, if you're not up to anything on Thursday we have a day off and I can give you a tour if you like?" You said thoughtfully
You remembered what it was like to be new in the city and wanted Jessie to feel welcome.
"Sounds good to me! You wanna come to J?"
"I'm actually going out with Ethan to run some errands but rain check?" She apologised
"Yeah no worries eh"
As you looked back from Janine to Jessie your eyes widened when you saw the clock.
"Oh shoot is that the time? I better get going" gathering your stuff you got up and headed towards the door
"Sorry girls but I better get back and to bed it's already late and we have training tomorrow"
"Jessie, we can talk more about plans at lunch" You excused yourself and returned to your own apartment.
Today had been long and you were finally relived to be back in your Portland bed that you'd missed so much whilst you were away.
You popped your phone on charge as you got into bed, setting your alarm. As you were about to put it down a notification popped up.
[y/n_y/l/n4] _jessflem started following you.
You smiled to yourself and followed her back before placing your phone on your bedside table and rolling over falling asleep.
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winstonsns · 2 days
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I love ur writing so, so, so, so, so much!! I was wondering if you’d be willing to write Dallas x Reader where he met reader through Ponyboy and Johnny. Like both Johnny and Ponyboy are really really close friends with reader and Dallas is curious and wants to met them and Dallas develops a little puppy crush!
Only write if ur comfortable/have time! Love ya and I’m excited to see you write more in the future! 🖤🖤🖤
can’t help falling in love (request)
authors note: i have a shit ton of requests but try to post once each day, please be patient if i haven’t gotten to yours yet! i’m so glad you like my writing, i hope you enjoy! this is my first oneshot so idk if it’s good or not LMAO 💗
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dally x reader
word count: 2.6k
warnings: cussing, slightly suggestive, bob being a bitch
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dally was sitting on his bed in his room, above buck’s bar when he suddenly heard a ring from the phone on his dresser. “god damn it, who the fuck could it be…” he mumbled, grumpily walking over to the phone and picking it up.
“hey, who the hell is this?” he asked, receiving a response quickly, “it’s pony. you wanna go to the drive in with me and johnny and our other friend? she’s real tuff, i’m sure you’d like her. the movie’s at 7—“
dally looked at the wall, checking the time on the clock. it was nearly 3pm, he thought for a moment before interrupting pony, “i’ll come over now, we can get some food or something before we leave for the movie.”
“see you in a bit, dallas.” he responded, dally putting down the phone and therefore ending the call. he stared at the dresser for a couple seconds before making up his mind, pulling on the drawer handle and taking a plain black shirt out, putting it over his head. he then walked to another part of his room, picking up his shoes on the floor, putting them on and grabbing his denim jacket from a hanger. he put his arms through the sleeves and walked to the door, walking downstairs, telling buck, “hey, i’m taking your car. goin’ to a friend’s house.”
he rolled his eyes before grabbing the keys from his pocket, tossing them to dally before he was on his way to pony’s house. going into the car, he wondered what you would be like, knowing you were going to the drive in with johnny and pony. as he was on the road, he couldn’t stop thinking about you, thinking about what you could look like or if he would think you’re as tuff as ponyboy thought.
by the time he was at ponyboy’s house, it was 3:30pm. he took the keys out of his car and opened the car door, closing it behind him once he got out. he walked over to the entrance of his friend’s house, opening the door since he knew it would be unlocked. “hey dally, took you long enough.” he heard someone say, recognizing it as johnny’s voice. “hey, man, how you doin’?” he asked, walking over to the kitchen where he saw johnny and ponyboy eating some chocolate cake. both of them looking at dally and nodding.
“isn’t there gonna be some broad at the drive in with you guys? what’s that about?” he asked, johnny and pony looking at each other, johnny grinning and holding his hand out to pony. he groaned and mumbled a “gotta be kiddin’ me…” and pulled a dollar out of his pocket, giving it to the dark haired boy next to him.
dally watched the whole interaction but was still confused, only after pony explained who you were, he understood the two of them had made a bet. “how have we not told you about her, man? y/n’s been our best friend for years, one of the only nice socs, we hang out like three times every week, man. have you not seen her?” pony explained, johnny answering his question and saying, “oh she’s beautiful, dallas, you’d love her.” ponyboy nodding his head, agreeing with johnny.
all three of them talked for a while in the curtis house, ranging from you, to dally almost getting put in jail again, to some fight that pony witnessed, to johnny getting beat up by a soc, then once again, back to you. time passed by quickly and before they knew it, two hours had passed, they only had an hour before they wanted to be at the drive in.
dally couldn’t keep his mind off of you, he got curious because of how highly pony and johnny spoke of you. saying you were an academic beast, the most beautiful person someone could ever meet, the funniest and best person someone would want to be around, etc. “knew each other since we were… god, what were we? oh, i was around 7 i think, she was around 10.” pony stated, bringing dally back into the conversation after he zoned out.
the rest of the hour was spent talking about you, how you, pony and johnny met and became friends. detail by detail, dally grew more and more excited to meet you, but he tried not to show it. pony and dally continued their conversation while johnny glanced at the clock, noticing it was nearly 6:30. “hey guys, it’s close to seven. think we should start headin’ over to the drive in, yeah?” he asked, the two other boys nodding, getting up from their seats and walking out the door to the drive in.
by the time they arrived, the sky was dark even though it was still early. they looked around before getting on their knees, crawling under the fence and getting their jeans a bit dirtier than they wanted. “should be in a black mustang, i think. that’s what she has, right johnny?” pony stated, wanting to have his statement confirmed by his friend first. “yeah, pretty sure. wait— isn’t it dark blue?”
the two kept bickering back and forth, looking around even though many people were there. he glanced around, remembering how pony and johnny described your features, trying to find someone who described them. the three boys were near rows of chairs, your friends still arguing about what color your car was.
dally heard footsteps walking towards his direction and a loud voice, he recognized it as someone was yelling at another person. “god, won’t you just fucking listen to me, y/n!!? you can’t be hanging out with those— those hoods, they’ll ruin you!!” a boy with curly blond hair with an alcohol bottle in his hand yelled, dally realizing he was bob, someone that johnny had described multiple times, with his rings that cut up johnny’s face.
“look, bob. we’re not even together, why do you care so much about this? they aren’t bad people, you have to understand that!!” you argued back, trying to keep your voice steady and managing not to yell at him. even though the two of you were somewhat far away, dally lightly hit johnny’s arm and pointed at you, asking, “is that your friend?” looking back at him, seeing both of the younger boys smile.
pony and johnny started to walk towards you when he stopped them, worrying, “hey, hey… seems like she’s in an argument with that one guy over there. don’t you think we should wait?” the two of them paused, staring at you, watching you and bob continue arguing, him losing his temper and screaming at you, “you’re a fucking whore, y/n! a bitch too, leaving us for some gross hoods. what, you wanna live on the streets too, huh?”
you rolled your eyes, knowing they didn’t really live on the streets, they just knew them better. they weren’t as fortunate as you and bob, as the socs. you continued letting him yell at you when you heard footsteps behind you, like they were from multiple people. when bob paused and looked behind you and asked, “who the hell are you? get lost.” spitting near the people behind you, you cringed and moved away from the spit and bob, looking behind you to see johnny, pony and a boy who you haven’t seen before.
the dark haired boy, who was a bit taller than pony and johnny came closer to bob’s face. asking, “why the fuck are you yelling at her, huh? you have no fucking right to do that, you piece of shit.” pushing bob’s chest, causing him to back up. he looked at you, complaining, “this ain’t worth my time,” slowly walking backwards then turning around to walk towards his friends.
dally turned around, seeing you already looking at him and smiling. “you’re dally, aren’t you? i’ve heard about you before. pony and johnny talk about you sometimes…” you added, glancing over to the two boys at the end. he responded, “yeah, it’s dally. so you’re y/n, huh? the boys talk very highly of you, it’s a big thing to meet you,” pausing, hearing you giggle, then continuing, “you’re pretty good looking, you know. should get to know each other better, yeah?” smirking when he saw you blush.
after the four of you reached the seats, you sat in a row, two behind johnny and pony. the two of you continued talking although the movie had already started, not even paying attention. you had learned dally had an insanely long criminal record while you had none, his parents were both shitty and didn’t care about him, but yours were perfect. he didn’t give a shit about school, meanwhile you would most likely be the valedictorian. but he wanted to attend school again just so he could see you.
even though the two of you didn’t notice, the movie had ended as quickly as it started. both of you kept chatting away before pony and johnny looked behind the two of you and spoke, “man, nearly everyone’s gone. i think we should all go home, right? don’t want your parents to be mad, right y/n? don’t wanna get grounded again.” johnny teased, you rolling your eyes playfully and agreeing, “yeah, we should probably get going.”
when you looked away, dally gave the two boys a look and shrugged, a gesture for, “what the hell was that for?!” so they shrugged back and got up from their seats. the three boys walked you over to your car, ponyboy asked you all, “so, what’d you guys think of the movie?”
you and dally looked at each other and grinned, he replied, “wasn’t paying attention.” and you nodded, agreeing, “yeah, i wasn’t either.” he lightly bumped your shoulder in a teasing manner, causing you to giggle. by the time you got to your car, you felt your mood start to change drastically, going from happy to a sense of sadness. you wanted to continue talking to dally, but were nervous to ask.
you fidgeted with your hands and looked worried, staring at the ground before asking dally, “can i have your number?” his face turned into a shade of red, nodding quickly and speaking, “yeah, you got a pen and paper?” you wondered for a second before stating, “maybe, let me check.” so you opened your car door slightly and frantically looking around, yet finding a pen and not a piece of paper. you grabbed it and shrugged, “i only have a pen… sorry…” feeling bad that you got your hopes up.
he took the pen from your hands, asking if you could roll up your sleeves, you nodded and he gently grabbed your arm. as he wrote his number on your arm, you looked at johnny and pony, smiling at them while they gave you a thumbs up. “this doesn’t hurt, right?” dally asked, checking up on you. you shook your head, suddenly you didn’t feel pressure on your arm and he handed the pen back to you. looking on your arm, he wrote his number and ‘dally ;)’ at the bottom.
you smiled at the little winking face, looking up at him to see him already grinning at you. you mumbled, “i think i have to go now… i don’t want my parents to be mad…” dally looked at you, nodding and stating, “i’ll call you in the morning, ‘kay? we should hang out tomorrow.” while you got into your car, putting the keys in.
dally bent down to the window and smiled, you beamed, “it was nice meeting you, dally… i hope we can figure out another time to hang out. thanks for inviting me, pony and johnny.” they smiled and said “we’ll see you later!!” and waved as you drove out of the drive in, going in the direction of your house.
watching your car with a bit of sadness, dally turned his head and mumbled, “let’s get you two home…” johnny and pony teased him the whole way back to ponyboy’s house, saying it was so obvious that he thought you were cute and was trying to flirt with you. “your eyes were basically like hearts, like in the cartoons when they fall in love!!” johnny chuckled, getting a playful hit on the back from dally.
by the time they reached the curtis house, johnny and pony said goodbye to dally, “we’ll talk to you later, dallas. don’t fuck it up with y/n, we don’t have to choose in between you and her!!” waving at him when he got into the car, driving to buck’s. as he walked into the bar, a girl walked up to him and said, “hey, you wanna go somewhere? there’s a bathroom over there,” she pointed, “maybe we could… bang?” she winked, dally made a disgusted face and said, “i have a girlfriend, dipshit.” and walked away, knowing he didn’t really have anyone romantically, but he wanted you.
when he was brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed, he was thinking about you. the way you talked, trying to keep your sweet voice in his head, the way you looked at him with interest while he talked. you had made him feel important for those two hours the both of you talked. he yearned for you, for your attention and love, but he thought he wouldn’t admit that to anyone, not if it was to save his life.
when you got home and walked up to your bedroom after you took your shoes off, you smiled at the writing on your arm. walking to your vanity, you pulled out a sticky note and pencil, writing dally’s phone number with a ‘dally’ and a heart next to it, underneath the numbers themself.
you changed into your matching set of pajamas and went into your bathroom, grabbing your toothbrush and toothpaste, wetting the toothbrush and putting toothpaste on it. you felt a lot different now than how you did with dallas, not even 30 minutes ago. you spit out the toothpaste once two minutes had passed, you wiped your mouth, turned the lights off and walked to your bed. you turned on the lamp that was on your nightstand, turning off your big light in the center of your room.
you and dally were both laying on your own beds, thinking about each other, both wondering “are they thinking about me too? there’s no way, it didn’t even seem like they liked me. maybe they were being nice.”
only johnny and pony knew, johnny had slept over at pony’s house while you called them, ranting to them about dally and how sweet he seemed, and when you hung up, they immediately got a call from the boy you were just talking about. he was talking about you, and for once seemed like he wanted something more than a short term relationship. he tried to make it seem like he didn’t care that much, but the two boys could tell.
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authors note: yayyy my first oneshot!! i hope you liked it, sorry it was short!! ;3
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ivrousae · 1 day
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✧ Comfort Space
Anytime you need a space of comfort after a long day at school, your boyfriend will always be there by your side, no matter the time, place, and situation.
- Genre: fluff, highschool au (kinda)
- Pairings: gyuvin x fem!reader
- Warnings: mentions of food
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You walked out the exit gate of your school at exactly 6 PM, a clear exhaustion was shown on your face after being dismissed late from extra classes. Exams are coming up and you don’t want to risk having bad grades so you decide to join extra classes for good results.
As you stepped out the gate, you were greeted by a tall figure approaching you, it was Kim Gyuvin, the boy you fell in love with at school. “Hey, how was it?” he asked while smiling, softly rubbing the back of your head affectionately, “Gyuvin? Why are you still here? You were dismissed 2 hours ago” you laughed “Am I not allowed to wait for my girlfriend?” he replied, using a sulky tone as a joke “That’s not what I meant” you sighed, “Let’s get you home, I bet you’re tired” he pouts, wrapping his arms around your shoulders while walking away.
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You sat down on your couch, letting down a sigh of relief after a long day, Gyuvin then sat down beside you, placing his bag along with yours on the ground. “Go get cleaned up, you stink” Gyuvin laughed, playfully pushing your shoulders “I was just about to! you go shower upstairs, your hoodie is in my room” “Your room? I knew my hoodies went missing” “I only stole one” You laughed, standing up from the couch to go shower.
Gyuvin and you have been in a relationship for a year now, your best friend Gunwook introduced you to him back when highschool just started. As time goes by, you noticed that your heart flutters everytime he smiles at you, your heart flutters everytime he pulls the stupidest jokes that aren’t even funny sometimes, your heart flurtters everytime he stands or sit beside you, basically, your heart flutters at everything he does.
At one point, you tried to get rid of your feelings for Gyuvin, after all, falling in love with someone within the same circle as you seems a bit…scary, especially when he doesn’t see you the way you see him. But what you didn’t know, is that he fell harder, so much harder.
One time, he even ditched classes when he found out you skipped school because you were sick. Every time you needed someone to listen to you, he would always be there to listen, even if he had to miss a hang out with his friends, even if he had to drive for 45 minutes to your location, no matter what, he would always be there for you. And at that time, you two were nothing but friends.
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“Hey come here, I found a movie to watch,” Gyuvin spoke out from the living room when you walked out of the bathroom, tapping on the empty space beside him. “And I also ordered your favorite food” he smiled “Really?” “Yeah, you didn’t even eat lunch at school today” He scolded, looking at you disappointed, “I had a stucon meeting” you replied “and you also had 20 minutes before lunch break ended after your meeting” Gyuvin laughed, gently squishing your face with the palm of his hands. 
You and Gyuvin continued your time by sharing your food, the warmth of the dim light in the living room accompanied by the movie playing on the large screen has somewhat given you and Gyuvin a lot of comfort, being on each other’s side at these moments have always been your favorite, doing the simplest yet warmest things together, from baking together, watching movies together, to even simple things like eating together, those basic things are always the best for the two of you.
Without noticing, you find yourself in the warmth of your boyfriend’s arms. The two of you were cuddled up on the couch, your head placed on his shoulders as one of his arms draped around your shoulders, “Are you sleepy?” Gyuvin spoke out softly while he turned his head to face you “A little” You responded, making Gyuvin stand up from the couch, “Let’s get you to bed then, you had a long day today” he smiled, holding your hands and softly rubbing them.
The night had finally come to an end, and with your two bodies intertwined, you knew that this was exactly where you could find peace, after all, he’s your comfort space.
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47 notes · View notes
bonezone44 · 18 hours
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Pretty Is As Pretty Does (18+)
Uncle!Ezra x F!Reader x Uncle!Tommy
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Summary: The best part about Uncle!Ezra and Uncle!Tommy is that they always smile when you walk in.
Word Count: 2883
tags: spitroast, double creampie, praise kink, southern accents, being called 'pretty', two men talking about you as if you aren't there. nicknames for Reader: angel, niece, baby, honey, sugar.
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It's late at night and you can't sleep. Been tossing and turning for what feels like hours. You finally decide to get out of bed and do something, anything, rather than lie there counting endless sheep.
You make your way to the kitchen with sleepy bare footsteps. You hear murmuring out the back door--deep, smooth voices and soft laughter. You figure Ezra has a friend over. You bite your lip. You want Ezra to yourself for some quality time. Maybe if you let him know you're up, he'll send his friend home. It's worth a shot anyway. You've got nothing better to do.
When you step out onto the screened in back porch, you see Ezra reclining in one chair and his friend in the other. Theyre silhouetted by the blue light of a bug zapper hanging in the corner. It's been a hot summer, but tonight the air is cooler and drier than it has been in weeks. The wood floors creak as you step further onto the porch and both men go quiet and turn to you.
"Hey, angel," says Ezra with a wry smile on his face. "What're you doin up this late?"
"Can't sleep," you answer with a shrug.
"Aww, you poor thing." He holds his hand out towards you. "Me and Uncle Tommy are out here shootin the shit. Why don't you come sit with us for a while?"
That's when your whole body goes hot. You look over and realize it wasn't just any of Ezra’s friends. It was Tommy. And Tommy’s got a nice little smile on his face, too, as his eyes rake over you in your pajamas and bare feet.
" Damn, girl," says Tommy. "You get prettier and prettier every time I see you."
Your cheeks burn and you fidget. "I don't know about that--"
"Shit, I do. I bet you gotta beat them boys off you with a stick."
You wave him off. "No way."
"Aww, look at her bein shy," says Ezra, turning further toward you in his chair. "There is no need to be so timid around your uncles, angel."
"That's right, honey," says Tommy. "It's just us. You don't gotta worry bout nothin around us." He smiles. "We'll keep you safe from all them boys out there. We'll have 'em runnin off. Don't you worry about that."
You roll your eyes with a smile.
"What? You don't believe us?" asks Ezra with big, puppy dog lookin' eyes.
You shake your head. "Y'all are just sayin stuff."
"Oh, c'mere, honey," says Tommy as he reaches out and grabs your hand. "Why don't you come sit by Uncle Tommy and let him show you how pretty he thinks you are?"
Tommy's one of the most handsomest men you've ever seen in your entire life. He's got beautiful wavy hair that curls beneath his ears. His voice is so smooth and syrupy compared to Ezra's deep rasp. He's always wearing nice blue jeans and cleaned-up cowboy boots. Ezra almost never tries to dress nice to the point where you've given up on ever looking nice, too. And right now, you're standing in your sleep clothes and Tommy's offering you something that you weren't even trying for.
Your heart races in your chest and you gush between your legs. Your face is on fire--the whole situation makes you so nervous. What if they're lying? What if they're just playing tricks on you? What if this is all one big joke? Your history with Ezra didn't matter. He could change his mind at any minute and go running off leaving you all alone. You were tired of being abandoned by the people you trusted most.
Ezra rests his large hand on your hip. You can feel the heat of him through the thin fabric of your shorts. "Go on, angel. Uncle Tommy ain't gonna hurt you none." You glance at Ezra nervously and he nods. "Go on," he says again.
You decide to give in. Ezra's been around long enough. He knows you. He knows how anxious you get. And if he's there, it does feel safer. You've at least got one person on your side if Tommy doesn't treat you right.
You take two steps towards Tommy and the two men immediately relax. Tommy spreads his legs and guides you by your hips to sit between them. He pulls you back against his warm, broad chest. He feels so solid and sturdy behind you. And he smells like something clean and bright--waking you up even more, making you more aware of just how much of his body is touching yours. His hands slide up and down your bare shoulders.
"Now what's makin you think you're not the prettiest thing on two legs, sugar?" says Tommy.
"I-I don't know," you answer. You did know, though. It was all the movies and TV and magazines. All the clothing stores and boutiques where the clothes never quite fit you right. It felt like the whole world was telling you that you weren't pretty enough to be loved.
"Too much TV," says Ezra and you roll your eyes.
Tommy chuckles into your skin as he presses light kisses into your shoulder. Each one excites you and soothes you at the same time. "You know all that stuff is fake, don'tchu?" His hands slide down your arms, squeezing you just above your elbows. "You can't be thinkin ya ain't pretty just 'cause ya ain't fake, now, sugar. 'S not what men like anyway."
"Not any man worth a damn," adds Ezra.
"That's right," says Tommy. His hands move from your arms to your waist. "Men know a real thing when they see it, sugar." His hands slide up to your breasts and he gropes them in each hand. "And we got ourselves a real one right here."
Your hands grasp tight onto Tommy's knees next to your own. You glance over at Ezra with hazy eyes and Ezra sits so casually as if nothing unconventional is going on.
"'S about what's on the inside," says Ezra, flicking dirt off his ankle as he goes to cross his legs. "That's what counts."
"That's right," says Tommy. He squeezes your nipples through your shirt. "And I'm proud to say that our little niece here is pretty on the inside and out."
"She sure is, ain't she?" says Ezra.
You don't know how to respond. You're not sure what to do. All you know is that there's a pool of slickness growing between your legs and it's enough that you wonder if you're gonna leave a wet spot on the chair beneath you.
"What? You still don't believe us?" says Tommy.
"She can be real stubborn when she wants to be," says Ezra.
Tommy chuckles. "How 'bout this? Don't you feel this, sugar?" One of Tommy's hands slides down the front of you to cup you between your legs. He pulls you flush against him and that's when you feel it. That's when you feel how hard he is. You're not sure how you missed it before. It feels like a steel rod against your back. "You feelin' what you do to your Uncle Tommy, baby?" He rolls his hips against you. "'M about to burst and we ain't even done nothin, yet. We're just sittin here talkin."
Part of you wants to laugh at that. There's a hell of a lot more going on than just talking.
"I think she's grown weary of conversation, brother," says Ezra.
Tommy chuckles again. "Ya think?"
"Yeeeeep," Ezra groans and stands from his chair. "And you did promise to show her how pretty she was."
"I sure did, didn't I?"
Ezra walks over and stands in front of you. You feel surrounded--caged in. But not unsafe. "Whatchu thinkin', angel?" Ezra cradles your face in his big hands. He leans close enough to you that the whole rest of the back porch disappears. "Want me to get you ready for Uncle Tommy?"
Oh fuck. Does Ezra mean what you think he means? "O-Okay," you say.
"Good girl." He grins briefly before his eyes go wide and serious again. "Uncle Tommy's big. I don't want you gettin hurt."
You nod. "Okay."
Ezra sinks to his knees before you. He reaches for your waistband and you lift your hips as he tugs your shorts down and off your legs. "Mm-mmm," hums Ezra, staring between your thighs. "Our little niece is pretty everywhere." His large fingers poke and prod at your lips. "She's wet, too." He spreads your pussy apart with both hands. "Soakin," he says.
"Is she now?" Tommy says. His breathing's picked up. Both his hands back on your chest. You can feel his whole body rolling into you, even if just in the smallest way. Ezra's touch has you responding in kind.
Ezra's head tilts upward with his fingers still on you. "Remember that job on Breyer street? The house with all those cat paintings?"
Tommy stills a moment. "... y-yeah?"
"Remember how that faucet on the side of the house wouldn't stop leaking?"
"...yeah?"
"That's about what she looks like right now."
Tommy laughs and holds you close, grinding against you. "Fuck, man. You can't be sayin shit like that to me, man. What the hell?"
"I am merely trying to be honest with you," says Ezra with a shrug. He thrusts two thick fingers inside of you with one hand and with the other, he rests his thumb against your clit. Unmoving. Simply applying pressure as you and Tommy's bodies move together.
"Oh my god," you moan as Ezra's fingers stroke inside you and Tommy whispers in your ear.
"'S Uncle Ezra makin you feel good, sugar? 'S he touchin you just right?"
"Mm-hmm," you whimper. "So good. So good."
"You feel how pretty we think you are, honey?" asks Tommy.
"And it's not just because you're our favorite little niece," says Ezra.
"That's right," says Tommy. "'S because it's a fact, sugar." Tommy grunts. Ezra's fingers squelch inside your wet walls. "It's a fact that you're the prettiest goddamn thing we've ever seen."
"Our pretty little angel inside and out," Ezra says with a smirk as he adds a third finger inside you.
"Oh fuck" you moan and writhe.
Tommy chuckles. "Even if she got a dirty mouth on her."
Ezra laughs, too. "Oh she's filthy."
"Is that right?"
"I-I don't know." Your dizzy with desire. You're surprised you can register anything they're saying to you.
"How 'boutchu get that filthy mouth on Uncle Ezra's cock while Uncle Tommy gets inside this pussy, huh, sugar? How's that sound?"
"Yeah, okay," you slur.
Ezra pulls his fingers out of you and stands. Tommy scoots you forward so he can undo his jeans. He and Ezra situate you so that your feet are on the floor with your ass hovering above Tommy's lap. Your hands grip the arms of Tommy's chair. Ezra pulls his own cock out of his pants and it bobs in front of your face.
You and Tommy both hiss as he pierces your cunt. Ezra was right. Tommy is big.
"Shit, man. You didn't tell me it was like this--" Tommy chokes out through panting breaths.
You bite your lip and groan.
Ezra chuckles as he strokes himself. "I tried, brother, but some things are best experienced for yourself."
"You got that right," says Tommy. He moans and curses as he guides you up and down his shaft, providing you with the rhythm and speed.
Once you feel steady enough, you open your eyes and Ezra's cock is hard and ready for you. You open your mouth, eager to hold its weight on your tongue. He doesn't thrust or move--merely lets your rhythm on Tommy's lap provide all the back-and-forth action.
"You're doing perfect, angel," says Ezra as he caresses your cheek. You've given him much better blowjobs before but he's looking down at you like you're giving him the high of a lifetime. "You look so pretty."
"Prettiest fuckin thing we ever fucked," grunts out Tommy.
"Play with that clit and she'll cream all over ya," says Ezra.
"Goddamn," curses Tommy. And he does what Ezra says. He reaches one hand around and presses hard against your clit. Four fingers rubbing back and forth just above where his cock is thrusting in and out of you.
Syrupy warmth begins to flood between your legs and seconds later your spasming between the two men--thighs twitching and toes curling.
Tommy curses again. "If she wasn't my favorite niece before, she sure as shit would be now."
"Told ya," says Ezra.
Tommy continues to thrust into you as you bounce onto him. "Yeah, suck his cock. Suck Uncle Ezra's cock, sugar."
Ezra does his best to keep his cock inside your mouth, but he doesn't seem too concerned about your performance there. It seems to be enough to watch you getting fucked so hard by your Uncle Tommy. Hearing your thighs slap each other and his cock squelch inside you is like music to Ezra's ears and dick. And your whimpers--goddamn!--you got the prettiest little whimpers he's ever heard in his life. Add in Tommy's desperate grunts and Ezra's careening toward the edge and nearly sent over it. He has to take a step back to get control of himself.
Without Ezra's cock to muffle you, your whimpers turn into shouts and Tommy grits his teeth. "Where do I cum?" asks Tommy through strained breaths.
"Fill her up, brother." Ezra's eyes sparkle at you. "Then I'll take my turn inside our pretty little pussy."
Tommy curses some more. He wraps his arms around you and taps on your clit, hoping to make you come along with him. And you do, it's hard not to. His thrusts were hitting all the right spots in your inner walls and Ezra's standing in front of you and watching you with tender focus. Your legs twitch and your toes curl all over again.
"Alright, now, hold it all in, angel," says Ezra with a stern expression on his face and you know what he means. You reach between your legs as Tommy pulls out and you do your best to keep all his cum inside you.
Ezra sits and then lies down on the floor, his cock hard and at attention. He waves you over with the flick of his fingers. "Come ride your Uncle Ezra, baby. Come show me how it's done," he says.
And something animalistic has been triggered inside of you as Ezra casually reclines on the hard wood floor. His elbows are bent and his head rests in both hands. He dons a simple smile and it almost drives you crazy. You want him as desperate for you as you are for him. You want him aching and writhing for your touch. He's been too relaxed this whole time and you almost hate him for it.
Tommy's cum is beginning to seep from between your fingers so you hustle to sit on Ezra's cock. Ezra's facial expression doesn't change as you sink onto him--but you notice the way his hips curl ever so slightly into you. He's holding back and you wanna make him give in. But you know Ezra, just as much as he knows you. And riding him how he likes it isn't going to get you anywhere. He wants you to use him--make yourself come by whatever means necessary. And that is certainly something you can oblige by.
So you do. Your hands grip his chest and you find the right angle that allows you to roll your hips into him with your clit pressed against his skin. You decide to take. You take and take and take your pleasure from him--you don't give a shit what makes him feel good. This one's all about you. And eventually he does give in. You see the way he grits his teeth and bites his lip. His hands fly to your waist, but you don't let him guide you at all. This is your ride and your orgasm. Even if you've already had two and Ezra's yet to have one.
But it was just what Ezra wanted--he was getting off on you getting off and some kind of feedback loop developed into both of you getting off and your panting and he's snarling and then suddenly there's another burst of hot liquid inside of you and seeping out of you. And you don't know it, yet, but Ezra loves when all the juices and cum are soaking his lap and he's filthy with the remnants of a well-and-good fucking. And if he could suck his own dick after all of it, he would. But instead, he pulls you up his body and has you sit on his face and he gives your pussy the most tender and loving kiss with tongue and all. All while your trembling and dizzy from overstimulation.
Once you finally take a moment to breathe. You find Tommy watching with lazy, tired eyes from his chair, his own cock already tucked back in. But there's a smirk on his face that tells you he appreciated the show you and Ezra just gave him.
"Alright, angel," says Ezra with a messy mouth. "Let's go put you back to bed."
------
a/n: wow. so horny. jesus christ.
tagging: @neverwheremoonchild @xdaddysprincessxx 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏
44 notes · View notes
khaleesiofalicante · 3 days
Text
A Blessing - LDV Ficlet
Contrary to his brother’s belief, Rafael does not have a stick up his ass. 
Does he have standards? Yes. Does he have a system? Absolutely. 
Does he have crippling anxiety that whispers in his ear that he must do everything according to his system to meet his standards? You bet your ass, he does. 
But he doesn’t have a stick in his ass, thank you very much. 
That would make it very difficult to do some of the things he does, such as sitting on the carpeted floor of his father’s office and read through and review a dozen different campaign strategies before midnight. 
Dad didn’t ask him to do it. Dad certainly didn’t ask him to do it before midnight. 
But Rafael’s system did, and his standards insisted. 
He has to listen. Not abiding by his system and compromising his standards would be a colossal mistake. A mistake that will result in everything around him crumbling down. 
People might even die. Who knows?
“Rafael?”
Rafael looks up at the voice and smiles. “Hey, Maia.”
Maia is dad’s campaign advisor. If things go as planned and they make it into the White House – the very thought of which sends a shiver down his spine – Maia might even lead the White House Communications Office. 
Dad met Maia in college. Rafael knows the whole story. 
He first thought that it was a bad idea to employ your friends. But dad always says that its greatest strength – surrounding yourself with people you love and trust. 
Maybe Rafael finds it complicated because he doesn’t have many friends. He is not very good at making them or retaining them. But it’s fine. 
He has a system. He has standards. His system says that to achieve his standards, he should have at least three good friends by the time he turns 30. 
He is still 21, so he should be fine. 
“It’s late,” Maia points out, as if he doesn’t know. He didn’t know actually. But it’s fine. “Did you eat?”
Rafael points at the half-eaten box of takeout on the floor. “Is dad done with the meeting?”
“Not yet,” Maia replies. “But he asked to check if you want to go home. It looks like it’s going to storm tonight too.”
“I’m not done with these yet,” Rafael points at the files scattered around him. 
“You can come back here and do them tomorrow-”
Rafael shakes his head immediately. “I have to finish today. Before midnight.”
Maia eyes the documents with uncertainty, as if it’s not a realistic goal. Then she nods and walks away. 
Wow. That was easy. 
He really thought she might put up a fight about it. 
But the thing is, Maia is super smart. She’d never do something if she knows there is someone out there who can do it better and quicker. 
“Rafael.”
Ah shit. Of course she called in big guns. 
“What’s up?” Rafael asks casually. 
“I’m taking Max home and you’re coming with me,” Bapak informs, and it doesn’t sound like Rafael has a choice.
Rafael turns around and looks at his brother who has been passed out on the couch for the last two hours. Poor thing must be exhausted after all that training. 
Max has his own system – about what he eats and when he sleeps and how he exercises. If Rafael listens to his brain, Max listens to his body. 
Rafael will never understand how someone as impulsive and reckless his brother could practice such discipline. He wishes his brother would apply that commitment to something a little less intense – something that doesn’t require him to wake up at four in the morning and sacrifice chocolate. 
“I’m not done, bapak,” Rafael points at the campaign files. “I need to read all of them and then organize them for Maia.”
“You know the election is next year, not next month?”
“That’s only twelve months. Not enough time!”
“When I said you should take a break after college, I didn’t mean camping out in your father’s office,” Bapak shakes his head.
“Dad needs all the help he can get,” Rafael says a little seriously. “Also, if all of us leave now, he’ll probably feel like we abandoned him.”
“I will not fall for your manipulation,” Bapak huffs and then frowns a little. “But I suppose I could send Max home with Elyaas, then stay here and help you.”
“No, I have a system!” Rafael all but wails. “I have to do it my way. It’s the most efficient way.”
Bapak sighs at that. “Darling, you’re not going to finish all of this on your own.”
“I can if you stop talking to me,” Rafael points out. 
“Alright,” Bapak puts up his hand, always knowing when to concede. “But if you don’t come home with your father, I will lock the front door.”
“No, you won’t,” Rafael replies, not looking up. 
“No, I won’t,” the man sighs at that. “Will you wake your brother up and ask him to meet me in the lobby. I’ll get the car to come around.”
When Rafael pokes his brother in the tummy, Max immediately wakes up and sits up straight – as if he is in the army or something. He frowns at his Apple Watch and then frowns further at Rafael. “You interrupted a really nice dream.”
“Were you dreaming in French?” Rafael makes a face. “You were mumbling.”
“No,” Max huffs and then makes a wistful expression. “Do you know if the prince will attend the Olympics next year?”
“What prince?”
“The Prince of France, Rafael, who else?” Max rolls his eyes. “It’s happening in Paris, remember?”
“Ah,” Rafael replies and then shrugs. “I don’t know. He’ll probably be at the opening ceremony.”
“I see. I see,” Max nods seriously. 
Rafael chuckles at that and shakes his head.  “Bapak is going home. Meet him at the lobby.” 
“You’re not coming?” Max yawns. 
“No.”
“I can stay if you want,” Max offers. 
“No, I’m good,” Rafael replies. “You go home and sleep properly.”
“Okay,” Max yawns again. “I need to go home and take an ice bath anyway. Coach says we need to get used to cold water because Paris is going to be cold as shit in February.”
Rafael truly worries about his brother sometimes. All this training stuff is getting a little out of hand. He should probably mention it to his parents. 
But he needs to stick to his plan for now. One task at a time. 
He immerses self into campaign strategy from the Obama campaign, focusing on grassroots organizing. He has no idea how much time has passed when he hears a knock on the door. 
“I’m almost done,” Rafael lies immediately. 
He has seven more campaign strategies to read up on and its quarter to midnight. He might have slightly miscalculated the amount of time that he needs to read through these files. 
It’s not his fault. Whoever wrote this was extremely thorough so he can’t help but take his time with it, digesting every crucial detail to better understand their own campaign for next year. 
“Yeah, you’re going home,” Dad informs.
“But I’m not done,” Rafael points out. 
“We are closing the office,” Dad counters. 
“Can I take these home?” Rafael gathers up the files to his chest. 
“It’s too sensitive, Rafe, I don’t think so,” Dad replies. 
Rafael chews his lip. “I wanted to finish this today.”
Dad sighs at that as he walks over and crouches next to Rafael on the floor. “The world is not going to fall apart just because you didn’t finish this today.”
But it will. It might. 
Rafael doesn’t know how to explain it to his parents or anyone else. If he can’t finish his tasks for the day, then it will up with his tasks for tomorrow and then it will go on like that until everything turns into a shitshow. 
And the next thing you know dad will lose the election and it will all be Rafael’s fault.
“I just want to help,” Rafael says quietly. 
“I know,” Dad puts a careful hand on his shoulder. “But you’re not helping right now, you’re holding everyone up from going home.”
“Right,” Rafael swallows. “I’ll come home with you.”
His brain is screaming at him to shut up. 
You’re doing it wrong. You’re doing it all wrong. You didn’t finish your task! You’re going to mess everything up!
“Hey,” Dad says gently. “Would it help if I give you a new task to accomplish?”
He knows. Dad always knows. 
“Yes, please,” Rafael replies immediately. 
“Could you drop Anjali home?” Dad asks. “I think she’s going to take a cab, but you know how I feel about those.”
Oh shit. 
Is this what people mean by digging your own grave? Probably. 
But it’s still a task and Rafael is happy to do it just in case it will quieten his brain a little bit. 
“Okay,” Rafael nods and packs his things up. “I can do that.”
“Great,” Dad smiles and turns around. “Ah, Anjali. Good news. Rafael will drop you home.”
Anjali narrows her perfectly manicured eyebrows. “I didn’t ask to be dropped home.”
“Yes, well, it’s late and you know it’s not safe for a young girl to-”
“So, the solution is to be chaperoned by a man?” Anjali asks in amusement. “It’s interesting how the problem and the solution both happen to be men.”
“Anjali, it’s past midnight and I haven’t had enough whiskey for this conversation,” Dad pinches the bridge of his nose. “Now please go home and we can talk about how much the patriarchy sucks tomorrow, okay?”
“I’ll hold you to it, Mr. Lightwood,” Anjali gives a little salute. 
Dad rolls his eyes fondly and gives Rafael a nod before leaving the room with his jacket and keys.
“I just like fucking with him,” Anjali informs to no one in particular. 
“Lucky,” Rafael mumbles under his breath. 
“Sorry?” Anjali frowns. 
“Nothing,” Rafael clears his throat. “We should probably leave before it starts raining.”
“Okay,” Anjali replies as she picks up all the files on the floor. 
“Dad said to not take them home,” Rafael says quickly. “They’re sensitive.”
“I know,” Anjali rolls her eyes. “I wrote them.”
“Oh,” Rafael blinks. “Um. They’re…They’re really well-written. I liked how you had pointed out the key learnings under each strategy and noted the potential risk factors too.”
Anjali gives him a look at that. “Don’t flirt with me.”
“I wasn’t!” Rafael squeaks. 
He was. He totally was. He just didn’t think she’d clock it.
They take the elevator quietly, Anjali carrying half a dozen files in her arms and Rafael trying not to nervously pull at his jacket.
“You scared of elevators or something?” Anjali asks. 
“No,” Rafael swallows. “I just…I don’t wanna get caught in the rain.”
“I can still take a cab.”
“No,” Rafael shakes his head immediately. “I have to drop you home.”
It’s a task. He has to finish it.
“You have to drop me home?” Anjali scoffs. 
“I just meant…I promised my dad I’ll do it,” Rafael tries to explain.
“Your dad is very annoying sometimes,” Anjali informs as the elevator opens. 
“Why do you work for him then?” Rafael asks curiously, voicing the question he’d always wanted to ask her. 
“Because working in the White House will look great on my CV,” Anjali shrugs. “Make it a little easier to make my way into the Supreme Court one day.”
“I just didn’t think you’d want to be a secretary,” Rafael points out. 
Anjali looks over her shoulder. “You think about me, Santiago?”
Rafael flushes at that. “I just meant-”
“Nothing wrong with being a secretary,” Anjali tells him. “Especially if you’re working for someone who knows what they’re doing.”
Rafael smiles at that. “I’m glad to hear that. My dad speaks highly of you too.”
Anjali’s stilettos come to a screeching halt as she whirls around and jabs him with a long, red acrylic nail. “Tell me everything.”
Rafael chuckles at that as he spots his bike and walks over to it. “You should consider your options though. Just in case we don’t make into the White House next year.”
“You don’t think we will?” Anjali frowns. 
“We will if we follow our strategy and do everything exactly as we’ve planned,” Rafael points out. “But, you know, things don’t always have to plan.”
“That’s what losers say,” Anjali scoffs. 
“I just like a good backup plan,” Rafael shrugs. “There are plenty of judges in New York you can work with. Or you can work in the DA’s office.”
“The District Attorney is a cunt,” Anjali says very matter-of-factly. 
Rafael chuckles at that as he takes out his keys. “You know, you’d get along great with my brother.”
Anjali groans at that loudly. “No offense, but that boy gives me a migraine every time I talk to him.”
Rafael chuckles again. “Well, you’re gonna have to put up with him a lot if we make it into the White House next year.”
“When we’re gonna make it into the White House,” Anjali corrects him. “And when we do, you and your doubtful ass owes me a set of new highlighters.”
“Textsurfer Classics or the Zebra Mildliners?” Rafael asks as he climbs onto the bike, chuckling at Anjali’s expression on the mirror. “What? I know my way around stationery.”
Anjali scowls at that before climbing in behind him. "I told you not to flirt with me."
Rain pours down on them just as they make it to the Lower East Side, just a couple of minutes away from the Williamsburg Bridge, close to where Anjali lives. 
“Do you want me to pull over?” Rafael loudly asks over his shoulder. 
“We’re almost there. Let’s just keep going,” Anjali shouts in his ear. “I think it might get worse if we wait.”
Rafael nods and tries to go a little faster. He senses Anjali shift behind him and watches her remove her jacket and drape it over the slides close to her chest. 
“Anjali, you’re going to get sick!”
“I need to protect files!”
“Don’t you soft copies?”
“Don’t be stupid. Of course I do.”
“We’ll just get more printouts.”
“But you already annotated most of this.”
Rafael pauses at that. “It’s fine. I can do it again.”
“Are you crazy?”
“Anjali!”
“Just shut up and get me home.”
By the time they get to her apartment building, they are both drenched, Anjali worse than him. Rafael considers giving her his jacket, but it’s of no use. 
“I told you,” Anjali tells him, teeth chattering a little. “It got worse.”
“Shit,” Rafael sighs, looking at the rain that pours down the street. Bapak will kill him if he tries to ride his bike in this rain. 
“You can stay at mine until it calms down,” Anjali shivers a little and walks over to the elevator.
The elevator ride is quiet and cold. Anjali’s apartment is even quieter and colder.
It’s everything and nothing Rafael expected. 
He’s known her since he was in high school. Dad’s friends with Anjali’s father and they met at a fundraiser and Rafael’s been obsessed with her even since. 
He likes to think he knows her well – mostly by observing her. Because the thought of talking to her terrifies him. What if she thinks he is just another dude trying to hit on her? Even though he is fact just another dude trying to hit on her?
“If you don’t stop that, I’m going to punch your judgy little face,” Anjali glares at him. 
“What?” Rafael coughs. “Your apartment is, uh, lovely.”
“I know it needs cleaning,” Anjali rolls her eyes, putting away four empty cups of chat on her coffee table. 
“I’m not judging. I know you’re super busy,” Rafael says carefully. “Although…You could get a cleaner?”
“Pay someone to clean my house?” Anjali snorts loudly. “My Amma might just disown me.”
Rafael chuckles at that and shrugs. “Well, I don’t mind.”
He does. He minds a lot. But it’s rude to tell someone their house is messy and it’s beyond stupid to say that to the girl of your dreams. 
“I’ve only got one bedroom, so you’re gonna have to take the couch,” Anjali tells him, walking over to the couch and picking up a bunch of things off it. Why is the laundry detergent on the couch? Never mind.
“That’s fine,” Rafael replies. “Can I have the files back?”
“Aren’t you going to sleep?” Anjali demands incredulously.
“I can’t sleep in new places anyway,” Rafael shrugs, which is only half a lie. In truth, he can’t sleep when he knows she’s right there, too close and too far at the same time. 
“You need sleep,” Anjali frowns at him. 
“I need the files,” Rafael corrects. 
“Well, you’re not getting them.”
“Anjali.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I was planning to work on it tonight, okay?” She huffs in response. “You don’t get to interrupt my routine.”
“Your 1 AM routine?” Rafael raises an eyebrow. 
“Don’t be a hypocrite,” Anjali rolls her eyes. “Bathrooms on your left. I can give you some clothes to wear if you want. I have some of my dad’s shirt-”
“I don’t mind wearing yours,” Rafael tells her. “I’m sure I can pull it off.”
Anjali rolls her eyes at that before walking off to her bedroom and returning with a pair of grey sweatpants and a plain burgundy t-shirt. “Let’s see if you can pull it off.”
Rafael tries not to scream. “Is it okay if I use the bathroom first?”
“Yeah, I need to clean up here anyway,” Anjali sighs and glares at her own living room. 
Rafael quickly heads to the bathroom and gets changed, trying not to have a panic attack the entire time.
It’s fine. It’s fine. He can handle this. 
Just go out there and be normal. 
Don’t do anything weird. Don’t say anything weird.
Just be normal. Be chill. 
When he walks out of the bathroom – dressed in Anjali’s clothes, ah! – he finds the girl leaning over the now clean coffee table and setting down the files. 
“Do you need help with that?” Rafael asks. “I’m sure we can finish it soon if we do it together.”
See? 
Normal. Chill. Nothing weird. All good. 
“I guess that makes sense, thank you,” Anjali sighs at that. “Give me a minute. I need to get out of these wet clothes first.”
“Do you need help with that?” Rafael asks again before can stop himself. 
Anjali stills at that before slowly turning around to face. 
Shit. Shit. Shit. 
Run. Jump out of the window. Save yourself. 
She walks over to him and cocks her head. “What did I tell you about flirting with me?”
“Uhhh,” Rafael replies eloquently. 
“You and I?” Anjali says slowly, and Rafael can’t help but focus on the water droplets running down her neck. “It won’t work.”
“Why not?” Rafael asks stupidly. 
“Because I will be part of your father’s permanent staff very soon.”
“If he becomes President, you mean.”
“When.”
“If.”
“When.”
“If.”
“Why can’t you be delusional for a minute and believe that he can actually win this thing?” Anjali demands in frustration. 
“Someone has to keep all of you on your toes,” Rafael hears himself reply. “Besides, the only thing I’m delusional about is thinking that you like me as much as I do.”
“Well, that depends,” Anjali hums quietly. “How much do you like me?”
“Enough to fantasize about a world where my father doesn’t win and I can ask you out on a date,” Rafael chuckles. 
“But you love your father,” Anjali says in confusion.
“Very much,” Rafael nods. “But-”
“But what?”
“But I want to kiss you so bad, I think it’s starting to drive me a little insane,” Rafael sighs tiredly. 
Anjali looks at him incredulously. “I think you might be crazier than your brother. I can’t believe he’s the sensible one.”
“You take that back!” Rafael gasps. 
Anjali chuckles at that and shakes her head. “This would be a big mistake, Rafael.”
“I hate mistakes,” Rafael tells her. 
“I know,” She smiles a little. “Which is why I don’t want be one.”
“You would never be a mistake, Anjali,” Rafael bites his lip. “You’re a choice. One that I desperately want to make.”
Anjali looks at her hands and groans a little. “This would be a lot easier if you were an entitled jackass who happens to be my boss’ son.”
He knows. 
He knows there is something here. 
He’d never in a million years talk to her like this or flirt with her when he can if there wasn’t something. He’s seen it. He’s felt it. He knows it’s the same for her. 
But he also knows it won’t work out. She does too. 
Not when everything will be complicated after next year. 
Of course there is a simple solution to all of this. 
Anjali could simply not work for his father. But he could never ask her that. He’d never do that. 
It’s not fair. It’s not right. 
How could you love someone and not want the best for them? How could care about someone and not when them to have everything they deserve and have dreamed of?
He can’t do it. He won’t do it. 
Anjali’s dreams are more important than his feelings. He will always stand by that. 
“Sorry,” Rafael chuckles wearily. “I could try to be an entitled jackass who takes advantage of his father’s secretary. Ask you to bring me coffee or grope your ass.”
“If you ask me to bring you coffee, I will dump it on your head,” Anjali tells him menacingly. “Although I’m partial to the groping.”
“Amor, don’t play with me,” Rafael shakes his head, feeling an ache in his chest.
 “I’m not,” Anjali whispers quietly. “I…I’m not, Rafael.”
“Oh,” Rafael exhales, all the air in his lungs leaving him at once. 
“Maybe it doesn’t have to mean anything,” Anjali says carefully. 
“It’s you,” Rafael tells her in a whisper. “It will always mean something to me. You’re too amazing for it to be anything less.”
“Stop being nice about this!” Anjali groans loudly. “You’re making this difficult!”
“I’m sorry,” Rafael laughs. “Fine. I’ll be mean to you. Your paragraph spacing is shit.”
“You take that back right now-”
“Ow! Okay! Okay!” Rafael laughs again, pushing away when she tries to him hit him again. But he doesn’t let go of her hand. He doesn’t want to. “Can I kiss you?”
Oh. 
Oh, there is no going back now. 
Anjali’s dark eyes shut close at that. She sighs and shakes her head. “You shouldn’t.”
“Right,” Rafael swallows. “Sor-”
“But I want you to,” Anjali confesses quietly. 
“Really?” Rafael can barely himself. 
“Maybe a kiss is okay,” Anjali says slowly. 
“Yeah,” Rafael agrees, trying not to pass out with each passing word. “Just a kiss.”
“Just a kiss.”
“Exactly.”
“And then we get back to work.”
“Of course.”
“We’re professionals,” Anjali tells him. “We can control ourselves.”
“Totally,” Rafael nods. Then there is quietness. He swallows again. “So, does this mean I can now kiss-”
When she leans forward and kisses him, he knows it’s all over. When he feels her fingers in his curls, he knows there is no going back. 
He’s thought about this moment so many times that it’s kind of embarrassing. 
He’s thought about Anjali kissing him and his head exploding – and not in the fun way. 
He had expected his brain to scream at all sorts of things. 
Stop! Warning! Red alert! Danger! Stick to the system! Where are the standards? Stop this at once!
But he hears nothing right now. 
His brain, for the first time since he can remember, is quiet. 
It’s almost as if it’s got nothing to say to him. It’s almost as if it knows he’s got more important things going on. 
As if it knows nothing could possibly be more important than Anjali. 
Most of it all, it doesn’t feel like what he thought it would feel like. 
A mistake.
It doesn’t feel like a mistake. In fact, it feels like a blessing. 
A blessing.
Something he shouldn’t regret, but something he should be eternally grateful for.
A blessing.
36 notes · View notes
leqonsluv3r · 2 days
Text
ask/prompt game
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in my asks, request a number and i’ll write a prompt about it. give the specific leon kennedy you want (or if you don’t have a preference)!! totally up to you guys <33
i will cross out the prompts that have been requested/used below :)) i did a mix of smut, fluff, and some angst. just to give you guys some options. i will write a drabble or a oneshot (again, whichever you guys request) based on the prompt you choose.
prompt creds: (1-50) — @animupiglett
(51-85) — @alwayskaysanova
(85-100) — mine
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1. "i love it when you moan my name.”
2. "i want you now.”
3. "please don't stop.”
4. "open your mouth.”
5. "spend the night with me.”
6. "just a little harder.”
7. “i wanna fuck you right against the glass so everyone can see how good you take it.”
8. “don't give me that look.”
9. "make me.”
10. "i promise I'll be good.”
11. "be a good girl and spread your legs.”
12. "you can get louder can't you?”
13. “do you like that?”
14. “just shut up and fuck me.”
15. “stay quiet.”
16. “you need a place to stay for the night?”
17. “don’t be gentle.”
18. “i just want to please you.”
19. “i told you to stay still.”
20. “i’ve never done this before.”
21. “i love the way you look with my fingers inside you.”
22. "there is no way anyone is that innocent.”
23. "don't worry i'll take of you.”
24. "these walls are pretty thick which means you and i can be as loud as we want.”
25. "bed. now.”
26. "we're in public you know?”
27. "if you interrupt me one more time— so help me god.”
28. "you're more than just a one night stand.”
29. “did you touch yourself while i was gone?”
30. "the only way you're getting off is on my thigh.”
31. "i haven't even touched you and you're already wet.”
32. “you taste like fucking candy.”
33. "you're so fucking hot when you're mad.”
34. "i don't know what to do" "then let me teach you.”
35. "are these handcuffs?”
36. "why so shy?"
37. "we've been at it like rabbits and you're still horny.”
38. “show me.”
39. “use your mouth.”
40. “what are you going to do about it?”
41. “bend over and spread your legs.”
42. “you feel amazing.”
43. “i want you to touch yourself.”
44. “i’ve been thinking about this all day.”
45. “friends don’t do this kind of shit.”
46. "I'm going to fuck your so hard you're going to forget that guys name.”
47. "no, i'm supposed to make you feel good.”
48. "y-you're not... w-wearing anything under that are you?”
49. “you wanna have sex with me?”
50. "i really want to kiss you right now.”
51. "What the hell are you wearing?"
52. "I don't hate you. I could never hate you. That's the problem.”
53. "I can't stand the thought of losing you."
54. "Of all the people I could've gotten stuck in an elevator with and it just had to be you."
55. "I wish you could see yourself the way I see you."
56. "I love you. I'm completely and utterly in love with you. Please don't get married."
57. "It's only one night, we'll just share the bed."
58. "Our first date is a picnic on a beach under the stars? Have you swallowed a romance novel? Do I need to call a doctor?"
59. "Stop running from this. I know I'm not the only one who feels it."
60. "Kiss me, quick!"
61. "Why the hell are you bleeding!?"
62. "I'd die for you. Of course, l'd haunt you in the afterlife but really, it's the thought that counts."
63. "You're so beautiful."
64. "Teach me to fight."
65. "We shouldn't be doing this."
66. "You were never just my friend."
67. "I can't do this anymore."
68. "I tried, but I just can't stay away from you anymore."
69. "I bet I can make you scream my name."
70. "That's the third time I've saved your life!"
71. "How can you think I'm anything but hopelessly in love with you?"
72. "I will never apologize for saving your life, even if it costs me my own."
73. "There's no going back if we do this."
74. "What do you want me to say?"
75. "I never thought you'd hurt me but I was wrong. You hurt me the most."
76. "I want you and I know you want me too."
77. "I can't watch you with someone else. It's tearing me apart."
78. “I’m dying.”
79. "Don't panic but I think we might have accidentally gotten married..."
80. "I want you and I know you want me too."
81. “I can’t watch you with someone else. It’s tearing me apart.”
82. "I'm not leaving you!"
83. "Tell me to go and I will, but if you ask me to stay l'll never leave you again."
84. "Are you ticklish?"
85. "I will knock you on your ass if you even think about it."
86. “did you really have to be that honest?”
87. “of course it meant something!”
88. “i gave you everything i had.”
89. “can we do it again?”
90. “you just can’t help yourself, can you?”
91. “go ahead. touch it.”
92. “i’m not jealous of them!”
93. “the center of your attention is a very bad place to be.”
94. “i’ll admit, i’m very possessive.”
95. “you kissed me first.” “i definitely didn’t.”
96. “you mean more to me than anyone else, you know that.”
97. “i’d spoil you rotten if i had the chance.”
98. “come here, i’ll keep you warm.”
99. “pretend to date me? please?”
100. a quote of your choice <3
26 notes · View notes
Text
Lost Lamb
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pastor's son!geto x fem!reader
length: 12.8K (oof my apologies)
cw/tw: prison, arrest, religious shenanigans, implied/referenced child abuse
Your ex, your first love, Suguru Geto has been granted parole after spending several years in prison for manslaughter. You want closure.
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A Disclaimer:
friends, please listen to me before you start this fic: there is implied child abuse in here.
i intentionally left it vague, because i didn't want to dwell on it for any longer than i had to. i dont have any particular headcannon about what happened to the girls in this au. assume it's bad, basically is what i'm hinting at here.
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Suguru Geto’s arrest had taken your small hometown by storm.
In the following weeks, everywhere you turned there was a reminder. His empty spot in the back pew on Sunday morning, his jacket on the door hanger in your bedroom, his mugshot plastered all over facebook. You wished every middle aged mother that commented on the posts accidentally got their fingers caught in the garbage disposal. You’d made the mistake of voicing that opinion to your own mother, who’d called you hateful.
Wow!! He was always such a sweet kid!! What happened!! PRAYERS!!
Is that pastor getos boy??
It’s that damn Gojo kid he's been hanging out with.
Sad. what happens when you take god out of schools.
i cant believe this!!
I knew the minute he refused to cut his hair and stretched his ears he was a lost cause.
Your parents had eventually taken away your phone, and after a particularly rough point, your bedroom door from its hinges.
Initially, he’d received a few charges. Murder in the second degree, and attempted kidnapping. Tacked on were lesser charges; unlawful possession of a firearm, simple possession of controlled substances. Eventually, those charges had been dropped and reduced until he was left with nothing but second degree manslaughter. It was a hell of a plea deal, and most of the town suspected it had to do with the family’s influence, however the judge had simply sighted “mitigating factors”.
You do your best to ignore the whispers, the rumors, but they bled in anyway. He was gone, long gone and yet he was right there on every local news station, in every tear, in every nightmare, falling from people's lips in the local diner:
“Did you hear about the pastor's kid?”
You can't see the nasally woman behind you, but you mind conjures up an image. Middle aged, bob cut, wrinkly and judgemental. You bet she collects expired coupons like Pokemon cards.
“Yeah! I actually went to that church a few times! Isn't that so scary?! I heard that he always sat behind those little girls at church. Creepy!”
Her equally as nosey friend wasn't wrong. Suguru did sit behind the Hasaba twins every Sunday. What they didn't know was he had confided to you once that they had a rough home life. Apparently his parents had temporarily taken them in for a while as toddlers so their parents could “sober up”, the details of which were unclear. He wouldn't give you specifics, but you could garner that whatever was happening behind the scenes since they’d been returned home wasn't good. You always thought Suguru was lying in wait for something to happen, though you never knew just what.
“I mean, how do you kill someone, kidnap their girls, and only get ten years?!”
“You have a preacher for a daddy, that's how.”
“That's crazy! And a possibility of parole after only three years?!”
“Girl, I know! And poor Mr.Hasaba! He always seemed so sweet, you know? He just had kind eyes.”
She had no idea what she was fucking talking about. That man was a creep. Your mother had an awful habit of making you hug older church members goodbye, and his hands always slid a little too low, held you a little too tight. He was insistent upon cheek kisses, and they always felt disgusting; sloppy clamps of his lips instead of soft polite pecks. Once, you’d tried to tell your parents you didn't want to hug him goodbye anymore, but they'd simply told you it was the polite thing for a little girl to do.
“I wonder what he had planned for those girls?”
“Thank god we’ll never know!”
But you wanted, needed to know. There wasn't a single part of you that didn't crave the answer to the question that had plagued you for weeks; What happened to him?
Suguru had always been a sweet boy. Your playground protector, puffing up his chest to kids twice his age when they pulled your pigtails. You recalled a time he'd found a dead bird on the lawn of the church, and promptly went and buried it by the woodline, complete with a few verses of Amazing Grace and a moment of silence. He'd cried, and you pinky promised to never ever tell anyone he'd gotten so upset.
A few years later, he’d become the envy of all your friends. Any girl in your grade would've killed to have a boy two grades above them walk them home every day. You had let them be jealous, and hadn't dared to tell them that you were pretty sure Suguru would never like you like that. In fact, when they started a rumor that you two had been caught kissing behind the bleachers, you didn't deny it at all.
Turns out you were wrong, and you’d never been happier than when Suguru had asked you to prom three years later. Your parents had been absolutely thrilled. By that point, Suguru had been around for years, and he had always been respectful and well-behaved.
Doors stayed wide open when he was over, but usually he didn't seem all that interested in whisking you away from the other members of your family, much more happy to sit in the living room, talking business with your father or future plans with your mother; she liked to prod him with intrusive questions, all of which he handled with exemplary grace. That doesn't mean they weren't mortifying for you, though. Suguru was your friend and here she was asking him about grandchildren.
You had a sneaking suspicion that it was less about your relationship with Suguru, and more about your relationship with Suguru, the pastor’s son. Your family name wasn't known for much in this town, but the Geto’s held control of the church and therefore, control of the town itself. To be related to them was your mother's golden ticket to sit with the uppity tennis-skirt wine moms at every ballgame. When he started sitting with your family every Sunday, she saw an opportunity and was more than willing to take it.
It didn't hit you until he arrived at your door in a fitted suit that night that maybe one day that could be a real possibility. You hadn't expected to feel like you did. Standing in the lowlight of the gymnasium, for the first time you noticed he'd grown to something beautiful. Long gone was your playground hero. He'd been replaced by someone taller, leaner, more… handsome. The chub of his cheeks was fading, but his dimples still appeared when he smiled, and everytime they did you got this roller coaster-esque feeling, like you were free falling right through the floor.
Your mom had reminded the two of you to leave room for Jesus when dancing, but that didn't stop you from wrapping your arms around his neck as you slow danced, pressing your body against his, making a mental note to repent later. His hands had fallen against the small of your back as you swayed, and it struck you just how big they'd gotten. The thought made you shudder. His forehead fell down against yours, awkward bangs toppling out of his bun and falling across your own forehead. You tried to keep your eyes open, memorize the way his lashes fluttered against his burning cheeks, but found the sight too powerful to withstand, instead shutting them. Which was maybe worse, because without the distraction of eyesight everything else felt so much more intense. You found the rise and fall of his chest comforting, the hotness of his breath fanning across your face intoxicating. You, somehow, hadn't expected it when he leaned forward and captured your bottom lip between his own, but it lit a fire in you that to this day you hadn't been able to quell completely.
He left for college your Junior year. You had tried to hold it in, not show any sign of weakness, but every minute you spent with him felt like a countdown. He was going to the city, where the girls were gorgeous and knowledge was a bottomless well. You couldn't convince yourself he'd still think of you, the girl from down the street with braces and bargain bin jeans when he had the whole world to choose from. It had all come to head on move-in day. For the first time, your parents allowed you to be alone with him. You were angry that it just so happened to be the day you'd have to leave him here, hours away. His assigned roommate hadn't arrived yet, so he got to pick which uncomfortable mattress and study desk would be his. Your hands shook as you pulled his clothing from bins, folding them and tucking them away into the stow-away drawers beneath his bed.
“Are you okay?” He’d asked, and that was all it took for the dam to bust. You’d frozen, one of his hoodies still gripped in your hands, but when you opened your mouth to assure you were just fine, your body had betrayed you. All that had come out was a broken sob. He’d immediately dropped to the floor beside you and pulled you into his lap, squeezing you like his life depended on it. He’d promised you he'd come home whenever he could, that he was definitely not going to forget about you.
”Y/n, I love you. Distance can't take that away from me.”
”You-. You love me?”
”Unconditionally.”
He buried his face in your hair, inhaling your scent and planting gentle kisses to your scalp. It wasn't until he sniffled that you realized he was crying, too.
”I love you too.”
He couldn't come back until two summers later. Initially, you’d stayed in daily contact. But daily video chats had turned to weekly calls, and then texting only. Those texts spaced out and dissipated just like you’d always feared they would. You were surprised when he’d asked you to meet up, even more shocked to find out that he wanted you to meet him at a hotel, away from the prying eyes of your parents, or his for that matter. At first, you'd been elated, excited that he still wanted to see you after all that time, but on your drive over you’d become angry. Every moment you'd spent waiting to hear from him, every tear you’d cried, every helpless night spent laying awake hit you all at once.
You remembered your eighteenth birthday, spending most of your party glancing at your phone, hoping, just praying he’d call. You remembered your mother's funeral, when you’d listened to his father preach over her open casket, alone. You remembered that party where you’d been caged against the wall by a man much larger than you, when his lips had grazed your skin and you tried to close your eyes and imagine it was him.
He was waiting for you outside the door to the room he'd paid for, but instead of the boy you expected you were met with a fully grown man. He was chiseled, defined, from the angle of his jaw to the curve of his bicep fighting the fabric of his t-shirt. His hair was so long, silken loose locks flowing freely from his scalp and tumbling down his back.
“Hi.” He said, casually, like he hadn't broken every promise he made you and ruined every potential date since just by existing, and being him, and looking like that.
Tears well in your eyes, and you don't exactly know what the emotion behind them is; some combination of sorrow and infuriation and relief because he was here. He was finally here.
“Fuck you.” You half spit, half choke, a gurgled laugh escaping your throat because it was almost funny, wasn't it? The way he was fine and you were a fucking wreck.
He blinks, and then nods slowly, and has the audacity not to fight you back.
“I deserve that.” He pulls a white card from his pocket and keys the door open.
“You do. You really do, Geto.” You almost sound like you're pleading, but when he takes your hand and yanks you through the threshold you don't stop him. And when he backs you against the door you don't stop him. And when his lips crash into yours with an unprecedented fervor you kiss him back, lips and teeth mashing together, desperation taking hold as his tongue bullies it’s way past your lips. He moans into your mouth and you feel yourself absolutely gush at the sound, your body's reaction only serving to piss you off more.
You pull away and he dives into the crook of your neck, one large hand smacking flat onto the door above your head, the other reaching down to hike your knee around his waist.
“I’m fucking serious, Suguru! I hate you!” You cry out, but your hands tangle in his hair as he suckles on your sweet spot, marking you. You were his, you were always his, and you would always be his.
“I know.” He breathes, rocking against you and grunting as his clothed erection grinds against you, slowly at first, and then quicker, whimpers and whines mixing together in the heated air as sparks dance in your belly.
“You broke my heart.” You tell him as the hand against the door moves to hike your shirt up, bunching it around your neck as his head dips to lap at your skin. It’s messy, needy, the way he laps at you like a dog in heat.
“I know.” He repeats, and you realize he's sinking to one knee when he drops your leg, his fingers instead fumbling for the button of your jeans, doing his best to get them off before you change your mind.
“You fucking ruined everything. You ruined me.” Despite your words, you help him remove your pants and panties all at once, lifting your legs and balancing with your hands on his shoulders.
“I know.” He throws one of your legs over his shoulders and his eyes trail slowly from your face to where your core drips right in front of his eyes despite your protests.
“Who’d you shave for?” His eyebrows raise slightly in curiosity as he realizes you're free of all body hair, his eyes lifting to meet your face again.
“Did you expect me to wait for you?” You ask, chuckling incredulously “It's none of your business, really.”.
You don't tell him you have a boyfriend. Partly because you feel a sense of shame about being a cheater, but mostly because despite everything, you don't want to hurt him. Besides, it was nothing serious, just someone to attempt to fill the gaping hole left in your chest by the man kneeling in front of you. The man whose eyes had gone dark and predatory at your words. You’d never seen anything like it from him before. Your pussy clenches around nothing at the sight.
“Did he make you cum?” He hums, presses his lips into your thigh.
“Oh, fuck you, Suguru.” You spit, and then immediately yelp when his teeth sink into your soft flesh as a reprimand.
“Answer me.” He chuckles against your skin and he moves higher, his tongue flat and warm against the sensitive surface.
“Make me.”
“Bad move.” He deadpans, and then licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit, agonizingly slow, smirking against your core as you whine. He repeats the motion once, twice, three times and then slurps at your entrance. The sound is disgusting, but you can't care when he's buried between your thighs, teasing you, playing with your cunt like a toy. You think you hear him mutter something about how good you taste but the blood pounding in your ears drowns it out.
“Come on, y/n. Answer me, baby. Did he make you cum?” He finishes his question off by parting his lips and blowing on your clit, the cool air icy against your arousal and his spit. You shake your head back and forth, rolling your bottom lip between your teeth and glaring down at him.
“ ‘No’ as in ‘No, he didn't.’ or ‘No’ as in ‘I’m not telling.’?”
“I’m not- ah!”
You're quick to swallow the rest of that sentence when he leans forward and begins eating you in earnest. That desperate motion is back, the flat tongued lapping he’d done to your chest earlier, eager to taste and take and pleasure you. His hand grips and the underside of your thigh that's hiked over his shoulder, nails leaving red crescent marks on your skin.
Your hands fly to grip his hair and you begin to rock against him in time with his strokes, crying out with every flick and swirl and lap of his tongue. The pressure builds as he learns your body, repeating motions that get the most reaction out of you until you're basically doubled over his head, white knuckle gripping his inky locks as you feel that white hot coil in your center wind tighter, and tighter, and-
He pulls back, laughing as you sputter out “Nonono please, please!”.
“Are you ready to tell me whether he made you cum or not?”
You could absolutely fucking scream. How dare he dangle your orgasm in front of you and rip it away, just like he’d done with every hope you had of a future with him.
“Ohmygod, he didn't make me cum but he also didn't abandon me after promising he wouldn't!”
His face falters beneath you, that devilish smile melting away just briefly as your words seem to hit him in the face. For just a second, he looks familiar again, and you realize those eyes are the same ones that wept for the bird in the courtyard all those years ago.
“I’m sorry, y/n.” He breathes, and before you can cry he's returning his mouth to your clit, closing his eyes and sighing into you as if the taste was soothing him somehow. His movements are now steady and fluid, and he uses more lips than before, almost making out with you in expert timing, lips smacking and slurping against you in a rhythmic motion. Below the lewdness, you can make out the sounds of him moaning, whimpering even as he drinks you down and if it didn't feel so good the fact that he seems so desperate for you would send you spiraling. This was the Suguru you knew. Honey sweet with an eagerness to please. You melt against him, gasping for air between whines. You couldn't even care that he was all but supporting your entire weight on his shoulder, but for what it's worth, he didn't seem to mind either.
A rough palm slides up the skin of your inner thigh, followed by the intrusion of two thick fingers gliding into you, not pumping but rather curling inside of you, sliding against a spot that has tears stinging at the corner of your eyes. Or maybe it is the fact that he’d come back to you after all that time, and you didn't know if he was planning on staying. Was he on his knees begging? You couldn't tell.
“Suguru, m’gonna- fuckyes, please! Cummingcummingcum-”
When your orgasm arrives, it washes across your body like ocean waves, one large crash of pleasure buckling your knees followed by several smaller ones, certain and steadfast.
He places your leg back down on the floor and you immediately fall to your knees, scrambling into his arms like he might run away if you don't, and he's quick to reposition himself beneath you so he can hold you in earnest. You think about the last time you were on the floor of some unfamiliar room with him and can't do anything but cry into his shoulder.
“Y/n?” He murmurs, and you hum inquisitively between hiccups.
“I don't believe in god.”
You draw a quick and stuttering breath as you brace yourself to sit back and look at him. His eyes are closed, though, like he can't look at you.
“I’m confused.” You admit, sniffling.
He opens his eyes to meet yours, his expression morose.
“I think I maybe never did. I always guilted myself, though. I thought-” He sighs and looks off to the side, his cheeks flushing as he speaks “I thought that it was the devil, trying to tempt me. I thought if I just prayed hard enough that it would go away-”
“Suguru, where is this coming from?” You ask, and he shifts underneath you, splaying his palm out behind him to support his weight, his free hand coming up to push his hair backwards, sliding through the root at his scalp and shaking the knots out, maybe anxiously.
“Just- just listen, please?”
That was years ago, when he’d explained to you how he lost touch with his faith. He called religion predatory, said it relied on offering desperate people a chance at salvation, at forgiveness, at love- only to take their money and run. Or convince them to vote one way or another. It was all a game of mind chess, at least to him.
He thought you’d hate him. He didn't want to hear you cry, beg him to come back home. He said hearing you devoutly defend the very system designed to harm you and keep you subservient would've been too much to take. He still loved you, by his own admission.
”There hasn't been a single day you didn't occupy my thoughts. I couldn't bring myself to rip you away from everything you've ever known.”
He would hate to see you now, crumpled at the altar, sobbing at the feet of his father, his mother's arms splayed across your body, her fingers intertwined with yours from above as she murmurs a prayer in your ear. She smells of the same laundry detergent his hoodies were always washed in, and it makes it all the more painful.
His parole hearing had been on Friday. His request for parole had been granted.
“Heavenly Father, we come before you with a heavy heart, burdened with the pain of one who has strayed from your path.”
It was always a little jarring, the way Suguru’s loss of faith came first in his list of sins in the forefront of his parent's minds. Still, all these years later, there's no one that still held this hurt the way you did.
”We know that your love is unconditional and your mercy boundless. I pray that you will lend us your grace to envelop my son, my sweet boy, in your grace and help guide him back to your light.”
You didn't know if you wanted to be a part of that. You wanted answers, mostly. You knew there had to be some reason, some explanation for his actions. You cry harder.
”Lord, I ask for y/n to be a vessel of your strength and wisdom in this difficult time. Help her to be a model of your love, showing patience, understanding, and unwavering faith. Grant her the courage to stand firm in her convictions while extending compassion and support.”
You can't argue with her, can't tell her that God has had his line disconnected for you since the day Suguru was arrested. At some point, you realized Suguru was right. Religion was a ploy for desperate people, and god were you desperate.
”Touch the heart of my baby, Lord. Open his eyes to your truth and fill his spirit with a yearning for your presence. May he feel your divine touch and hear your gentle whisper, calling him back to the fold.”
You didn't know what you could possibly say to him. Two weeks. Two weeks from today he would be home. You can't imagine what he’ll look like with a monitor strapped to his ankle. Your brain feels like sludge, so you focus on inhaling that familiar scent, imagining that it's him draped over your shoulders, the same way he'd hold you at football games in highschool.
”We trust in your divine plan, knowing that your ways are higher than our own. Let your will be done, Father, and give us peace in knowing that you are always at work, even when we cannot see the path ahead.”
For a while she just sobs into your shoulder, her white hot tears scalding your skin through your blouse as she cries.
”God, thank you. Thank you for bringing my baby boy home.”
***
“Y/n! Please, come in!”
The Geto household had been a second home to you growing up. As you stepped past Suguru’s mother into the entryway and began to remove your shoes, memories flooded your head like raging waters. Everything was so comfortable, so familiar. The gentle years-old carpet cradling your newly socked feet had been the backdrop for countless play dates, one- sided wrestling matches, and forts built from the blankets that had always been strewn across the leather couches and the barstools you knew awaited you just around the corner in the kitchen. You can almost see where your feet had worn a permanent path from the front door up the stairs to his bedroom door, though there's a part of you that knows that's unreasonable.
Pastor Geto and his wife both stood at the foot of the staircase, looking tense as they watched you shed your jacket and hang it on the coat rack. When you turn, you brush yourself off and wring your hands together. Despite the familiar place, everything feels uncomfortable. The skin of your hands feels like sheets of sandpaper grinding against each other, your jeans are pinching your waist uncomfortably, your shirt is constricting, it's too cold, it's too hot-
“Where is he?” You finally ask. You don't know why you're whispering.
“Upstairs, sleeping. He's…” Pastor Geto trails off, lets his head fall forward, and then up to the ceiling. Anywhere but your face.
“He's struggling with the adjustment period, we think.” Suguru’s mom cuts in, taking on the classic too-soft voice of an evangelical woman “He's been sleeping a lot.”. She nods, as if it's herself she wants to convince.
Your eyes trail up the stairs, and you nod and go to take a step forward, only to get stopped by the Pastor's hand on your shoulder. You lift your apprehensive eyes to meet his.
“Before you go, we wanted to know if it would be better for us to stay or if you wanted us to go. It's whichever you think will be best.”
Geto’s mother cuts in, quickly elaborating:
“We thought it may be best to give you privacy. We know this is emotional for everyone involved, but if you're worried…”
Oh. They don't want to leave you if you think he's going to hurt you. The thought almost makes you laugh, and then you remembered the whole reason you were here is because he was violent. Your Suguru, the one you knew, wasn't. But this one…
“It's okay, you can go.”
You wonder if that was the right choice as you watch them go, but ultimately you knew it was. If he could- if he did harm you, it couldn't be any worse than what he’d already done. At this point, a swift death would be a mercy.
Every step from the ground floor to the second is a labor, but you couldn't decide if it was one of love or desperation. You felt like twenty pound weights had been attached to your ankles, each stretch of your muscles burning like you’d just run a marathon. You know that twelve feet of altitude does absolutely nothing to air quality, and yet somehow with each rising inch you feel like the atmosphere thins. You reach the top of the stairs and creep your way down the hall, making eye contact with the pictures on the wall. Cheesy mall-quality photoshoots of him and his family, all wearing matching outfits and smiling in perfectly practiced photos. There are others, too; family dogs that had since passed, distant relatives you didn't recognize, your prom photo.
You physically recoil from the image. His hands resting on your waist, the butterfly kiss of the tip of his nose against your cheek that was covered in just a tad too much blush, the genuine smile you both held as you laughed not for the camera, but in spite of it. You remembered that night like it was yesterday. You remembered how gentle he’d been with you. Did he still know how to do that?
You pause to take a deep breath before you knock on his door, wrapping lightly at first to no avail, and then a little harder when you remembered he was asleep.
“Yeah?!” His voice echoes from the other side and from the tone alone you realize he thinks it's one of his parents. You bite your lip and try not to cry. Not yet.
“It's-”
God, why did your throat fucking burn like that?
“It's me. It's just me.” You call out.
For a second, all is quiet, and then your heart drops straight through to the ground when you hear frenzied shuffling coupled with the uneven slap of large feet against the floor from the other side of the door. He's flung it open in less time than you can back away, a t-shirt still following over the lower half of his abdomen as he stood frozen in the doorway, his eyes wide and his lips parted open as his breath seems to get caught in his chest. His hair is messy and his eyes are tired; soft purple circles beneath the expansive brown irises you’d always adored.
“Y/n?” It comes out as a question, like he can't believe you're actually standing there.
“Hi.” Is all you can manage.
You weren't sure what to expect, but it wasn't for him to sink to his knees in the open doorway, folding into himself and bowing whether he intended to or not. On the way down, his hands reach out for you, but stop just short of touching you, instead he pulls them beneath him, hugging them to his chest like he was simply trying to disappear into his self. You understood the feeling.
“Fuck, y/n.” It comes out as barely more than a whimper.
Moments pass like trying to pour cool molasses. You're stunned by indecision, stuck between what you know you should do and what your instincts demand of you. You’d never seen him so vulnerable before. His pride always, fucking always, won out over his emotions. But here he was, crumpled beneath you like a wounded man, assuming the same position you took at the altar every sunday. Was he asking of you what you asked of god? For grace and mercy and relief? For love?
You notice beneath the mass of knotted hair a tremor in his shoulders. It was quiet, near silent, but you could hear the faintest sniffling. He was crying. You had only ever seen him cry once before.
You sink to your knees in front of him in a much more controlled manner, but your fingers still shake as you shuffle forward on all fours until you can reach out and slot your fingers through his hair, grazing his scalp with your fingertips. His hair wasn't as soft as it used to be. You doubted they had his ridiculously expensive choice of shampoo in prison.
“You’re a wreck, Suguru.” You point out, and although you meant for it to sound very tough and strong-willed, it comes out in a breathy, shaky murmur.
He chuckles in a low rumbling tone, and then sits back on his knees, his palms rubbing at his eyes in an attempt to wipe away the tears before you can see them “I guess you could say that.”.
You sit back as well, planting your hands on your thighs and rolling your lip between your teeth and nodding slowly. It was too easy. You were too comfortable. You had the urge to throw yourself into him just like that, but you wouldn't. You couldn't. Right? You open your mouth to ask him why, or to scream, or to tell him that he was the lowest of the low, but nothing comes out, so you shut it again.
“Y/n” He breaks the silence first “I understand if you hate me, you have every reason to, but holy shit you have no idea how happy I am to see you.”.
His face is blank but there's a hopeful spark in his eyes. He looks just like he did the day he asked you to be his girlfriend, just like he did when he'd touched you under your skirt for the first time, just like when he'd met you outside that hotel room all those years ago. He doesn't want to show you his entire hand, but the cards reflect in his irises.
You despise yourself for your reaction.
You crawl towards him until you’re close enough to touch him, your arms slithering around his neck as you pull him into a hug. For a moment, he tenses, like he’s unsure if he should reciprocate, but then you squeeze tighter, practically begging him through action alone, and he concedes, strong arms snaking around your center as he buries his face in your shoulder. The sensation was both foreign and familiar. You’d been wrapped up in him more times than you could count on ten fingers and all your toes, but yet this one felt independent of the others. His palms were still warm, inviting, splaying out across either set of ribs from behind as if to guard your very breath from the open space behind you, but he was bigger now, buffer, his arms almost swallowed you whole and you find yourself briefly pondering if he’d spent his time in prison exercising. You refuse to let yourself think about him in an orange jumpsuit, or how his biceps would flex as he did pushups. It was not the time.
“Are you not afraid of me?” He murmurs, and you shake your head slowly.
“I know I should be.” You admit “I just can’t- I, I don’t- I missed you.”.
Your voice cracks and you choke a small sob into his hair. You were no stranger to crying by this point, but this time was less violent then the fits you’d become accustomed to dealing with thrice daily since the day of his arrest. These were tears of relief, you realized. It didn’t matter what he’d done, he was still Suguru. You still felt at home in his embrace. You still slotted perfectly against his form.
“I missed you too, y/n.” He squeezes you, just slightly, to accentuate his words “You were on my mind from the moment I saw those blue lights in my rearview all the way up until I fell asleep this morning, please believe me.”.
You pull the world's biggest breath in through your nostrils, leaning back with your hands on both of his shoulders, looking into eyes you’d dreamt about for years.
“You have so much explaining to do, you asshole.”
He cracks a small, tight lipped grin “I know.”.
A few minutes later, you're sitting on the foot of his queen sized childhood mattress with your legs crossed in a spot you’d been in many times before. In fact, it was “your spot” if you were to ask Shoko or Nanami. When you were younger, Suguru’s house had been optimal for studying. Your room was too small, Shoko’s family was dysfunctional, and Nanami swore he’d rather fail pre-calc then to ever let the three of you inside his house. Plus, Suguru had the biggest bed out of the three of you, plenty of room for laptops and papers and textbooks and snacks. The rules set by the Geto’s were that the door was to be left wide open and you and Shoko were to remain six feet apart from the boys at all times, so they would settle themselves at the top of the bed and you and Shoko would nestle yourselves at the foot. No one dared to even dream of mentioning that Shoko was way more likely to make a sexual advance towards you than either of the boys.
Suguru grabs a hairbrush from atop his dresser before settling into the head of the bed, letting muscle memory take over as he rakes it through his hair, as if he was suddenly conscious of the way he looked. It catches on the knots intermittently, causing him to wince against the feeling.
“Nice anklet.” You attempt to soothe the awkward tension with a joke “Where’d you get it?”.
His eyes flash down to his ankle monitor, and he laughs, a little mirthless, before shooting back:
“Claire’s.”
You snort and shake your head at him, trying to find a way to ask the questions that really needed to be asked without making it awkward, though at this point it seems almost impossible. He finishes up with his hair and tosses the brush onto his nightstand as he speaks.
“I wouldn’t recommend getting one, personally. You have to plug yourself into charge twice a day or you go to prison.”
“Mmhmm,” You hum “You know, your mom used to tell me this thing- something about actions and consequences, no- games and prizes-”. You sarcastically attempt to lament over just what it was, but you both know the answer.
“Would that be, uh, ’Play dumb games, win dumb prizes.’ ?” He plays your game with a smirk as you nod enthusiastically, sarcasm practically dripping from your hair as it shakes with the motion.
He rolls his eyes and chuckles, but heat floods his face and his eyes land on the carpet of his childhood bedroom. Was he embarrassed? Ashamed? Shame was good. Shame meant he knew he’d done something terrible. Shame meant there was hope.
“I know you’re waiting on answers.” He breaks the silence for you with a sigh, leaning forward and pawing at his forehead with his fingertips, as if he could rub away the clutter in his brain “But I don’t even know where to start.”. A sigh.
You nod, swallowing thickly, your eyes tracing the plaster on the ceiling “How about the beginning?”.
You didn’t mean it as a joke, but he giggles anyway “Yeah, I guess that would be a good starting point, huh?”. And so, following a brief pause, he tells you everything.
It started when the girls had been taken by child protective services. Panicked, their mother had called the Geto’s in a frenzy, begging them to take temporary custody while the Hasaba’s sorted out whatever it was that was going on at home. Seventeen and sheltered, Suguru’s parents had never given him all the details of why they were there in the first place, but in the sixth months they’d been there he’d undeniably grown attached to them. He described Nanako as “spunky”, said she had an affinity for fashion and anything shiny and pink. She was your stereotypical little girl, full of sass and glitter. Mimiko, on the other hand, was quiet, reserved, and spent her afternoons sat at the kitchen table with a handful of crayons and a few sheets of printer paper. She preferred not to be seen or heard.
Suguru was good with kids, he always had been. The girls were quick to shove into the role of big brother; protector. It was where he fit naturally. A fact you yourself had taken advantage of throughout your own childhood. There were no bullies, no monsters, no fears when Suguru was there. Nothing could get you. The girls seemed to have felt much the same. Nanako enjoyed pestering him, even at the big age of four whole years old. She’d beat on his bedroom door while he was studying, demanding he play with her. Drop Legos down in his boots when he wasn’t looking, force him to sit in the living room for hours on end while she knotted his hair up with sparkly elastics and butterfly clips. Mimiko, on the other hand, seemed to be afraid of him for the first few weeks, peering at him around corners as her sister made him her personal bitch.
“Eventually, she let her guard down.” He smiles fondly, shaking his head “I remember the first time she actually hung out with us. She brought her bucket of blocks out in the front yard and set like, six feet away from us while we drew on the sidewalk with chalk- well, I drew on the sidewalk. Nanako drew more on me than anything else. I’ll never understand how she figured out if she wet the chalk first it would stick to my hair. That was the longest shower I’ve ever taken in my life-”
With each passing day, Mimiko would sit a little closer, look a little longer at whatever Suguru and Nanako were getting into. Eventually, she spoke, asked if she could play, too.
“We were eating dinner one day and Nanako asked if I would be coming home with them when the time came. I had to tell her no. I didn’t even think Mimiko was listening, but she got up with her food and just went to her room.”
For a while, Mimiko had reset, if not backslid to a state worse than the one she had arrived in. This all came to a head after their final meeting with their case worker, after which Pastor Geto had enthusiastically told the girls that they would be returning to their parents soon. That night, Mimiko had simply strutted into Suguru’s open bedroom door to find him slaving over his laptop in the middle of the floor, diligently studying for his SAT’s. She’d come in with the force of a person four times her size and began absolutely pummeling him to the best of her tiny ability.
“I didn’t know what to do with that.” His brow furrows, troubled as he recalls the memory, his eyes darkening “It’s not like it hurt, you know? Not really, she was a preschooler and I was over six foot tall but still- kids aren’t supposed to hit, you know? And it was… she wasn’t hitting me like a child hits people, y/n. She was throwing legitimate left and right hooks, with follow through, and I just remember wondering where the hell she learned that. Anyway-”
He’d gripped her arms, just enough to contain her, and she’d shrieked with all her might, kicking and screaming at him to let her go while he begged her to calm down.
“Mimi, what’s wrong? Why are you being cruel to me?”
”I don’t want me to leave you!”
The immature phrasing breaks your heart. You could imagine what his reaction had been. The same soft pout he’d given you over and over throughout the years.
“I just held her, rocked her, tried to convince her she could come play whenever she wanted, y’know? But she was absolutely inconsolable. So I asked her why she didn’t want to go home, and she… God, she said-”
”He hurts us.”
“Their dad?” You interject, your voice trembling against your heightened emotion. You can feel dread pooling in your gut as he nods, confirming.
“What-” You swallow, feeling nauseated “What did she mean by that?”.
He looks you dead in the eyes and your blood runs cold. You had never before seen that expression cross his features. His eyes were always dark, but in that moment you were peering into a lightless cavern. He doesn’t elaborate, only shakes his head ‘no’. You don’t push it, and the momentary lapse of sanity seems to fade. You let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding.
He’d taken that information directly to his parents, who had reminded him that redemption was always possible. That we as people had to have grace for others. Jesus was friends with societal rejects. Whores, thieves, and beggars. All they could do was pray about it, they’d said, the rest was up to God and the state.
He left for college not long after that, but he couldn’t get the thought out of his head.
God and the state.
God and the state.
He tried them both. Over and over, spending his free time on his knees at the nearest chapel to his college campus, spending the drive home calling and anonymously reporting what he knew to any government official he thought would listen. All of his calls went unanswered, ultimately.
“The longer it went on, I- I don’t know. I went insane a little bit, I think. It’s kind of a blur. I just tried to knuckle down and study. The less I thought about it, the better I felt. And then Satoru-” He chuckles at the name, shaking his head incredulously and pawing at his eyes as he giggled like a little boy “Fucking. Satoru.”.
His college roomate, who you’d met briefly the summer before the arrest. You thought him to be a little wild, a little brash, but nothing prepared you for Suguru to tell you he was a little more than into psychedelics. He was always trying to get Suguru to loosen up a little, let himself experience something outside of the mundane small town life he’d always lived. Satoru was spoiled, rude, a nepo baby who’s daddy “allegedly” paid a large sum of under the table cash for him to attend the same prestigious college that Suguru did despite having a GPA lower than the Mariana Trench.
“He isn’t dumb, though. He’s actually a genius, I think. He could comprehend academic concepts I had to study hours for in minutes. He just has this thing with authority-”
It wasn’t until Satoru convinced him to start smoking pot that Suguru began to question the existence of god.
You screw your face up, and he puts a hand out to halt you from saying something you were never intending to say in the first place.
“Weed had very little to do with this. I didn’t get high and decide to murder anyone, it’s not like that. It just took the edge off of everything. I don’t think I knew I experienced anxiety until I smoked for the first time and knew what the world felt like without it.”
Without the cutting edge of his inner turmoil, and away from the prying eyes of his parents, he came to a conclusion one night while sprawled across his dorm bed as his high pulled him off to sleep; maybe God couldn’t do anything because he didn’t exist, and the state couldn’t care enough to do something about it, but he could.
He fought himself on it for a long while.
But every time he'd come home, he'd sit behind the girls in church, already perturbed by his irritation with religious ideologies, already uncomfortable with the way his Sunday best was digging at his skin- and Mimiko would throw glances at him over her shoulder, her eyes begging for him- for anyone to intervene.
“Do you remember the last Sunday I saw you before it happened?” He asked, and you nodded, your throat feeling tight at the memory.
You knew he hated church, it was all he’d ever talk about on the drive to the local burger joint after. You hated thinking of him in this way when he was so frustrated, but you always thought he looked incredible pulling his hair loose from his signature bun, thought his fingers looked so pretty tugging at the top buttons of his shirt, thought his snarl looked just as enticing as his smile in the afternoon light. Sometimes he'd pull his car off an old dirt road after, hike up your dress and take you right there just to blow off steam.
That Sunday was different, though. He had driven you straight home, his hands white knuckle gripped on the wheel at ten and two. Precise, methodical. His jaw clenched so tight you worried for his teeth. You’d considered asking if he was okay, but your mother whispered to you from the grave not to bother with men when they get like this. So you’d sat in thick silence, not even the radio on to help dampen the hellfire you could feel omitting from his pores.
“You know the Hasaba’s?”
He'd asked you, his voice grim and his eyes never leaving the road. You had nodded, a small
”Yes.”
Falling from your lips. His fingers had tapped against the steering wheel as he inhaled through flared nostrils.
”You ever notice how the dad's always a little weird with young girls?”
You didn't recognize his voice that day.
”Yes.”
He chewed on his cheek, nodding slowly, swallowing back bile.
”He ever make you uncomfortable? Push any boundaries?”
You’d gone silent, fixing your face to your passenger window, your breathing going uneven. You couldn't explain it, but you felt like it was wrong to answer that question truthfully.
He spoke your name like a warning.
”No.”
He’d laughed. Not the laugh you knew him for, but once that was low, humorless, painted in disbelief.
”Liar.”
“You were a real prick that day, y’know?” You half-spit at him, but your animosity is quickly quelled by his response.
He nods, pursing his lips “Yeah. I know. I don't know where my head was at the time, I think I had long since lost it. I could've at least told you I loved you before I pulled away-”.
“But you didn't.” You whisper, almost accusatory.
“You’re right. I didn't. It's one of my biggest regrets.”
When he’d dropped you off at your house, he hadn't walked you to your door or chatted with your dad like he usually did. He hadn't even looked at you, or waited in his car for you to get safely inside, instead speeding away before you'd even made it six feet from the car.
Three days later around dawn, the town was rocked by the news of Mr.Hasaba’s murder. He was found face up in his living room with a singular bullet lodged in between his eyes. It hadn't taken long for the authorities to lock in on Suguru. What are the odds that one man dies and another disappears in the same county at the same time? What are the odds that they attend the same church? What are the odds that the families would be intertwined and blended by way of two vulnerable little girls? It was obvious.
“The girls…” You struggle to find your words. This was the biggest part for you “What happened to them? What was your plan?”.
“I had them in the car before I ever pulled my handgun out. They were watching a movie on my phone with headphones in. Y/n, I know what people must think but you have to believe me, I would never hurt them.” His voice becomes rushed and hurried at the end, crackling on the edges and you can't help but scoot closer, holding your hands out for him to take. He does, and you give him a pointed look.
“I know. I believe you.”
He takes a deep breath, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment and then reopening before he continues.
“Satoru has this Aunt that lives upstate. She's middle aged, super rich, and has always wanted kids but can't have them. Uterine cancer took that away from her in her twenties. I always thought she'd be a great mom so I-”
You nod, understanding, your body sagging as you feel more weight than you knew you’d been carrying falling off your shoulders as he tells you about his plan to get the girls to her. He’d been apprehended about an hour out, but he'd begged the officers to call her.
“I told them I’d take whatever punishment they gave me without a fuss if they'd just get the girls to her. Life in prison, death row, whatever. The officers told me that wasn't for them to decide but they called her anyway and she was there within the hour filing an emergency protective order.”
He smiles a little “She’d never met them, y'know? But she heard there were kids that needed her and immediately rushed to get them. That's exactly what the girls needed, that type of love.”.
Apparently, the system smiles fondly at those who take down child abusers. Or at least, in his case they did. The D.A. had thrown out a hell of a plea deal in record timing after reading over his case.
“I still had to go to court for sentencing though. I think it helped that the girls were there. They were technically classified as 'victims’ but they got so excited to see me that Satoru's aunt had to take them out of the courtroom before anything had even started. They were yelling at me, yelling that they wanted to sit with me. I think the judge was a little amused.”
You squeeze his hands, smiling up at him through misty eyes.
“Don't look at me like that,” He breathes, his eyes soft “I’m not a hero, y/n. What I did was awful-”.
“I know. But you're not a monster either. I was so scared that…” You trail off and shake your head, not sure of what you're denying.
“It's okay,” He reassures with a placating smile “I get it.”.
“You don't, though.” You tell him, watching as his face contorts in confusion “Do you remember the first time you told me you loved me?”.
He nods “In my dorm.”.
“Right. Do you remember what I said?” You're slowly inching forward, crawling into his lap.
“You asked me if I loved you, like you couldn't believe it.”
You hum the affirmative, settling yourself on his thighs “And you told me you did. Unconditionally.”.
He nods, obviously still confused, and you let go of his hands to run your fingers along his jawline, noticing the way his cheeks flared red beneath your proximity.
“Whether or not you meant to, you set a precedent for me. Unconditional love is all I’ve ever known with you, Suguru. I was scared that if I came up here today and found every rumor to be true that I’d still love you… because I would. I’m glad that doesn't have to be the case.”
His lips meet yours, hesitantly at first, his hands carefully cupping the sides of your face and his thumbs swiping at the skin there, almost petting you in a way. His tongue pokes past his lips, just slightly, swiping against your lips deliberately. You're happy to part your lips for him, whimpering as he swirls his tongue with yours and washes you in the familiar taste. The wet sound and a pitiful handful of whines from somewhere deep in your chest fill the once stale and silent space as he guides you down and backward until your spine is flush with the mattress, one hand moving to cradle your head like you were breakable, like you falling against even something as soft as the plush of his bed without his protective grip may shatter you.
He pulls his lips from yours and hovers over you, planting both hands on the comforter on either side of your head, his hair tumbling down around you like a veil, until all you can really see is an obsidian void and him, him, him. His lips are pursed, eyebrows furrowing as he inhales slowly and his eyes flutter shut.
“I’m sorry, you didn't come here for this. I lost control, I-”
“Suguru Geto.” You reach up and let your fingers dance along his devastating jawline until you're gripping his chin between your pointer and your thumb. He opens his eyes slowly. You always thought he looked a little fox-like, his features pointed and sly, yet so soft on the edges. Gorgeous. He was always so god damn gorgeous.
“I don't believe in god. I can’t anymore. But every fucking night I’ve prayed for you. Just in case.”
His eyes flick across your features, some combination of reverence mixing with guilt painting his features.
“I’m sor-”
You cut him off again, this time by taking your fingers and sliding between his parted lips, pressing against his tongue to silence him. His eyebrows widen in shock at your dauntlessness.
“No. No more apologies. What I’m trying to tell you is that I love you, Suguru. If you want to apologize, fuck me like you're sorry.”
His eyes darken as you speak and he swirls his tongue around your fingers before sliding his mouth off of them with a wet popping noise, reaching up to grab your wrists and pin them on either side of your head, laying flush against your body as he dips into the soft curve of your neck, slurping and lapping at the skin there like all he ever wanted was to taste you.
“Since when did you get bossy?” He questions between kisses, a hiss pushing through his teeth when you grind down on his thigh “I’m not gonna lie, I kind of like it-”.
His teeth sink into your flesh and you rock harder against him, whining pathetically as he dips his head lower, letting go of your wrists only to rid you of your shirt and yank your bra down, not bothering with taking it completely off before he's got his mouth wrapped around one nipple, lapping in fat motions back and forth across your areola while one hand gropes your free breast, his thumb swiping back and forth over your stiffening nipple.
You curse and keen, writhing beneath him as he teased, relishing in his expert conduction of your body as he alternates between your breasts, sucking on your sensitive nipples and looking up at you with blown out pupils, drinking in the way your face contorts when he gets it just right. It isn't until your entire chest is damp with his saliva that you grip his hair, pushing on him and urging him downwards.
He chuckles but doesn't move, smirking up at you with sparks in his eyes “Use your words.”.
You pout, huffing dramatically “That's not very apologetic behavior, Sugu.”.
“How can I apologize appropriately when I don't know what it is you're asking for?” He coos, his grin carrying a wicked edge.
“You’re impossible, I’ll do it myself.” You push him back from you and he cocks a singular eyebrow as he watches you wiggle around and rid yourself of your remaining clothing, re-settling on his bed with your legs parted, your pussy practically dripping down your ass and onto his sheets. You realize as you trace over his still and captivated expression that you weren’t the only one that no longer knew the other. Just as you’d spent years apart from him, he’d spent years apart from you. You are different now. Older, wiser, more bold, less likely to take his shit.
You trace your body with your hand until the pads of your fingertips slip through your folds and make contact with your clit, your movements slow and deliberate, for now. Suguru’s eyes trace your every movement as he stands on the side of the bed and begins to shed his own clothing.
“Who’d you shave for this time?” He asks, the sound muffled as his shirt slides up over his chiseled frame and then his head.
“Why? Jealous?” You tease, and he scoffs incredulously as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his sweats, pulling them down and shedding them one leg at a time, taking a little longer on the leg that has the ankle monitor.
You move your fingers a little faster as you shamelessly reach out your free hand to palm him through his boxers, a moan escaping your lips as you begin to feel the pleasure of your own hand.
He grunts and tosses his head back, shamelessly thrusting against your hand “What if I am?”.
“Then you’d be dumb,” You fight to keep your tone even and confident “because I did it for you.”.
“Fuck.” He spits, seemingly losing all patience as he lunges down and flips your body until your front is flush against the mattress, your legs dangling off the edge and your toes barely touching the floor “Are you serious? Tell me you’re serious, y/n. You knew you were going to fuck me today?”.
“I didn't know, exactly- shit!” Your hips buck involuntarily as his hand slips between your thighs to roll your clit between his fingers, hard and slow “B-but there was a part of me that- nngh!- hoped-”.
That seems to be something akin to the answer he wanted, because he straight up moans into your shoulder blades before slathering the area in sloppy kisses, trailing down your spine with fervor.
“You’re mine, you hear me?” It's a question but you can't formulate a response, not when two of his fingers are slipping inside of you, stretching you out so deliciously “From here on out, I’m gonna be the best fucking husband you could ever ask for. You'll want for nothing. Just say it, tell me you belong to me, y/n.”.
“Husband?!” You half question half squeak, but he ignores you, only curling his fingers inside you with precision, hitting that gummy spot you could never reach with your own fingers that had you burying your face in the comforter to muffle your moans.
He pulls his fingers out of you and you almost protest but then he's on his knees, burying his face into your cunt from behind and causing you to nearly scream into the mattress. You give his college days credit for how fucking good he is at giving head, his thumbs spreading your lips wide so he can trace around your clit with precision, tracing figure eights around the sensitive nub before flattening his tongue and sliding one slow and wide stripe through your entrance. You expect him to stop there but he doesn’t, continuing his trail across your other hole and all the way along the crack of your ass.
“Suguru!” You're unsure if you're reprimanding him or crying out for more, and when you throw a glance over your shoulder he simply keeps his gaze locked on yours as he sinks his teeth into the soft flesh of your asscheek, causing you to yelp.
“Say it.” He tells you, his hand moving to toy with your clit.
“Say what?” You know what. You just wanna see how far he'll take this.
He tsks disapprovingly, his free hand moving to push two fingers into you again, curling in time with the stars he was drawing in your clit “I can do this all day, you beautiful little brat.”.
Your mouth falls open in a silent moan, your eyes scrunching shut as he adds a third finger, the stretch making you see stars. The flame that had been on a low simmer in your gut was now a roaring fire, flames lapping at every inch of your exposed skin with every well timed movement. It wouldn't be long before you fell apart on his fingers and you knew it.
Apparently, he did too, because he slows his movements to a torturous pace, chuckling as you attempt to shove yourself backwards onto his fingers as he pulls them back in time with your movements, seemingly amused with the way you’re squealing his name in frustration. It’s not enough, and too much. It’s so mean, and yet you can’t imagine yourself going a day without it ever again. You can’t imagine yourself going a day without him ever again.
“Make me cum, please-” You beg, and he hums condescendingly.
“You know I’d love to, doll but unfortunately I’m still waiting on those magic words.” He sighs dramatically and picks up the pace again, waiting patiently for your walls to start spasming around his digits again before returning to the same daunting pace.
“Oh my god!” You groan in frustration, slamming your face down into the mattress like a petulant child, one fist meeting the space beside your head in a shaky dejected punch.
“It’s actually ‘Suguru’, thanks.” He quips, and you’ve officially had enough.
You scramble forward until he’s pulling out and off of you with a slick lewd sound, and then flipping around to face him, all but climbing his body like a tree before twisting ever lock of hair you can find in one fist, yanking him down to eye level with you and using your unoccupied hand to shove your finger in his face with a exasperated pout.
“You, sir, are supposed to be groveling.” You remind him, and he smiles genuinely, with his whole face, his eyes scrunching into crescent moons and the white of his canines shining through plush and soiled lips. You have the same realization you had at sixteen; he’s so beautiful. Even now, even after everything.
…And then his tongue darts out and swipes a stripe up your pointed finger, and you cry out in protest and yank him back a little by the hair that was still gathered in your fist like he hadn’t just licked your literal genitalia, and he laughs the same way he did when you were kids, and your heart explodes in your chest.
“Is that what it takes?” He asks, his words coming out a little breathless, accompanied by a small chuckle “If it’ll get you to tell me you’re mine, I’ll grovel.”.
You roll your eyes, but he's undeterred as he reaches back and grabs your wrist, squeezing lightly to signal for you to loosen your fingers. You do, and he pulls your wrist to his lips, kissing languidly in gentle motions up your arm until hes reached your jawline, murmuring against your skin as he does so.
“I’m so sorry, baby. I never ever wanted to leave you. I love you, please. I love you, I’m so sorry.” His lips tickle against your skin, and he remedies it with kitten licks that have goosebumps erupting from your skin and heat pooling in your core.
His lips find yours and you feel yourself swelling with emotion as he speaks between sloppy wet smacks of your lips.
“M’ gonna get my shit together.” He promises “Gonna give you everything you want and then some. Doesn't matter if that's a camper that we drive around the country or a big house with a picket fence and a couple kids. I'll spend my life worshiping you, y/n. It's all I know how to do.”.
“Okayokayokay-!” You concede as you push yourself backwards as far as possible “I give up, I’m yours. Shut up and fuck me before you make me cry again.”.
He giggles and it sounds the mid-notes on a piano. Comforting, familiar “Since when are you afraid to cry in front of me? That's kind of our whole thing; crying.”.
“I’m not afraid, Suguru.” You scoff “I'm just sick of crying. I don't want to anymore.”.
You dip your hand into his boxers, taking his weight into your hand, causing him to hiss directly into your open mouth in response. You hadn't realized just how much you were affecting him, but the head of his cock is already slathered in precum, making it easy to stroke him in the way you know he likes, applying more pressure at the head and a little less at the base, pausing occasionally to press your thumb in circles across his slit, needy whines escaping your lips every time he blesses you with another drop of wetness, every time his cock twitches in your grasp.
“Shit, slow down-” He gasps, but grunts as he fucks into your closed fist regardless, like he can't help himself.
“Awh, Sugu, gonna come from a two minute handjob? Who are you?” You tease, and he can't even bother to giggle along with you, his brow furrowed in concentration and his lips parted in pleasure as he reaches down to push his boxers down to his thighs so he can watch you work his body, a needy, uncharacteristically high pitched keen escaping him at the scene below. You don't fail to notice the way a ridiculous amount of precum dribbles from his cock onto the soft skin of your stomach the minute he takes in the sight.
“A man who's thought about this every night for the past four yea-”
You pick up pace, causing him to cut himself short with a moan. Smirking, your free hand moves to gather the precum splattered across your abdomen, gathering the salty liquid with your index and pointer, grinning maniacally as he follows your fingers all the way to your mouth with wide, almost devastated eyes. You lick them clean, providing him with an overly dramatic whimper as you swallow, and his whole body tenses.
He snatches your wrists with force, pinning them above your head as he gasps for air and swallows thickly, his lips pursed together and his eyes scrunched shut as he wills himself not to cum, his dick spasming against your belly.
“No.” He says it in the same manner that one would use when correcting a mischievous dog, and now it’s your turn to giggle at him.
“Y/n, I am going to fuck you until you forget I was ever gone. I’m telling you. You've really done it now. Whatever happens next is your own fault.”
The words have you leaking, your cunt clenching around nothing.
“Please?”
“God. Fucking. Dammit.”
He all but tosses you up towards the headboard, rising briefly to shed his boxers before he kneeling between your parted knees, licking his lips hungrily and taking in a shaky breath as he grips to his last string of self control.
“You on birth control? Say yes.” His voice is distant; far away and fucked-out.
You confirm, but barely get the words out before he's flipped you into your stomach, pushing you practically flat against the mattress with his hands on the small of your back, using one of his knees to part your legs as far as they’ll go. It almost hurts, but before you can complain he’s pushing into you, a needy groan escaping his lips as you suck him in inch by inch, panting like he’d just run a marathon.
“Easy, easy, Suguru, please-” You beg, and his thumbs rub apologetic circles into your back.
“Sorry love, I'll be gentle.” He huffs, desperate “You just feel so good. Better than I remember. Tell me when you're ready, yeah? We're about halfway there.”.
Halfway? What the fuck do you mean halfway!?
…Is what you intend to say, but it comes out as a muffled jumbled mess as you do your best to accommodate him. You throw a glance over your shoulder just in time to see him gather a large wad of spit in his mouth and allow it to drain from his lips onto the place where your bodies meet. Your pussy clenches around him as his spit slides down the crack of your ass and flows over his cock, dripping down beneath the two of you onto the bed below.
“Like that, huh? You’re a freak, baby.” His grin is absolutely demonic.
You rock yourself back on him in response, effectively wiping that egotistical look off his face with one buck of your hips. He begins thrusting, shallowly at first, and then quicker, deeper, until he’s pounding into you with force.
Every thrust has you crying out into the mattress, mewling as he slides against your g-spot over and over, pushing down on your spine to angle you just right, and you silently thank god that he knows you so well. His slightly obsessive tendencies were more useful in some areas than others. You remembered the first time he fucked you, his eyes analyzing your body with surgical precision, mentally mapping every sweet spot in academic detail, committing you to memory and since then he seemed to know exactly how to use you to his satisfaction. You knew him well enough to know that nothing got him off quite like knowing he could get you off harder, faster, better than anyone else. Better than yourself, even.
He groans, allowing his head to fall forward until his forehead rests between your shoulder blades, sweat mixing between the two of you as he slows temporarily, rolling his hips rather than thrusting, leveraging his cock inside you and grinding down against your walls, the pleasure rolling over you in one never ending wave instead of repeated splashes.
“Fuck, Suguru-!” You keen, gripping at the sheets for some sort of purchase “Please, please, I wanna watch-”.
You slap at his forearm to signal him to let you move and he does, pulling out of you and watching with a fucked-out gaze as you settle on your back underneath him, moving to lock your legs behind his waist as he settles between your thighs and reaches down to guide himself back in with a hiss.
His thrusts are slow and methodical as he presses his lips to yours, swirling your tongue with his and allowing you to capture the wet muscle between your lips and suck, earning yourself a groan and a change in pace, lust overtaking his determination not to bust. He reaches down with one hand to rub the most delectable circles on your clit, whining and whimpering as you clench around him in response, the pressure in your stomach building at an exponential rate.
“I swear to god, it's like I can't get close enough.” You can't tell if he's blathering to you or himself but he reaches down and grabs the underside of your knees, throwing your legs over his shoulders and fucking into you impossibly deeper until you're certain he's bruising something inside of you. The pain mixing with the pleasure has you teetering on the edge of euphoria, your whole body tensing as tears pool in your eyes and you yelp with every thrust, trying to formulate words even though he's effectively smoothed over every ridge in your brain. All that's left is him and how good his cock feels reshaping your body from the inside out.
“I, I’m-” You attempt to announce your impending orgasm but no words come out, only an illegible mess of jumbled stuttered moans.
His hand slides down between your bodies to toy with your clit again “Please, baby, please cum for me, I can't hold out much longer. Not when you look like that.”.
The sound of him begging for you is the final nail in the coffin, your whole body spasming in an explosion of pleasure as you cum on his cock, damn near screaming his name, curling inward and gripping at his hair with desperation as he only pounds you harder.
“F-fuck, fuck, baby- yes. Holy fuck you're incredible. All mine. You're mine.” He's a blubbering mess above you as he blatantly chases his own high, his breath labored with effort, his eyes wide and drinking in your expression as you fall into the territory of overstimulation from the continual force. Your legs tremble against him, every thrust making you jerk and twitch beneath him.
“S-say it baby, fuck. Tell me who you belong to.”
“You, Suguru! I’m yours, please-!”
His orgasm hits him so fast it almost shocks him, his whole body stilling as his dick spasms inside you, painting your walls with an obscene amount of cum.
His muscles relax as he rests his forehead against yours, trying desperately to remember how to breathe. You tap at his shoulder and he mumbles an apology, helping you to pull down one leg at a time.
He pulls out and flops down beside you on his back, comfortable silence overtaking the familiar room, nothing but the sound of your breathing slowly evening out echoing off the walls.
You turn your head to look at him and he’s already staring at you, smiling gently.
“Hey.” He whispers cheekily, like an awkward teenager as he reaches over to brush locks of sweat dampened hair away from your forehead.
“Hi.” You respond in the same tone, grabbing his hand and bringing his knuckles to your lips, pressing kisses to each one.
“I think your parents wanted me to come up here and convince you that God was real.” You tell him, and he laughs, bringing his hands up to cover his face in embarrassment. You giggles meld with his, adding “I think I got a little distracted.”
“A little?” He questions through the laughter, and you nod.
“Mhm!”
“I mean, I think I saw him there for a second if that counts for anything-”
“Oh my god, you're so dramatic!” You playfully slap at his bicep and he catches your wrist, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around your shoulders.
“I love you.” He murmurs, pressing kisses into your hair, inhaling your scent like he couldn't get enough.
“Unconditionally?” You ask.
“Unconditionally.” He confirms.
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