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#and who wouldn't want a slide of their house? ;)
bahrtofane · 2 days
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helloo can we have dialogue 9, trope 20 with tchouameni pleasee🫂
- "Stay, please?" - two idiots pinning and not realizing the other is just as in love
word count - 700+
watch it - sleepy eepy silly lovers
I luv him sm yall 
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You get a call at 3 in the morning. At first you think it's an alarm so you slap your phone a few times before fumbling around for your charger, sticking your face in your pillow and drifting away. 
Then you get another call, and this time you clock that it's not an alarm but your dearest friend who's decided blowing up your phone is much better than letting you get any rest. It's Friday and you'll give him a pass. (Aurélien gets any and every pass in your book but he doesn't need to know all that).
You answer, of course you do. Voice hoarse as you sit up, slouching against your pillow while you rub the sleep out of your eyes.
“Mind if you open the door.” he mumbles after a rushed greeting. 
You squint,”what?”
“Your door, can you come and open it.” he repeats again. Slower. 
“Where are you?” you yawn.
“Outside, I got you things from Germany and they're really perishable and supposed to be refrigerated and I won't be able to so I thought I'd stop by. Sorry it's so late.” he breathes into his phone.
“No it's okay,” you stumble out of your bed and feed for your slippers in the dark, padding around your apartment phone wedged between your shoulder and your ear. 
He stays on the line, even if he's a few feet away. Not hanging up til he’s greeted by a very puffy eyed you in your pjs still fighting sleep. 
He thinks you're beautiful like this. Warm and soft, exactly how you make him feel. In full honesty he could have kept the assortment of treats with him. His hotel probably has a mini fridge. But he wanted to see you. He knows both of you will get busy again. He'd rather not waste any chances. So here he is, standing in your door frame, sleek black carry-on suitcase in hand and a bag just for you in the other.
You use him inside, flicking on a light and taking his baggage. He tries to fight you but you only whine, wheeling it away from him and up against the wall.
“Tea?” you croak.
He giggles, “no it's okay,” he hands you the tote,” this is for you, i should get going.”
“No wait,” you rub your eyes, “it's late. Stay please?”
His resolve soon crumbles as you take him by the hand, leading him further into your home. To you its second nature. Not a second thought as you dig in your closet for a spare pair of slipper. 
“I have pjs for you somewhere, “ you mumble. 
“No no,” he waves his hands,”its okay i have my own.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
You hum, padding along to get your room in order.
When you come back you see him in his pjs trying to settled on your couch and you frown, “no no you're sleeping in a proper bed get up.”
“It's your house.”
“And?”
“No i'll take the couch you have one bed i can-”
You shut him up with a tug to his sleeve, dragging him to your room. You turn your lamp on and slide in, motioning for him to follow. Friends share beds right? You would have offered if it wasn't him, and he wouldn't have accepted if it wasn't you. 
Maybe it's due to it being so late, to the jet lag, to you just being woken up. Or maybe it's because he feels so safe with you, so at home. And you feel so comfortable, and it feels so right when he slides in next to you, curling his hand around his face and resting his head against your pillow.
You've dreamt about this a million times. But you're too drowsy to be able to truly take it in. 
It's okay, the way Aurélien stares at you wide eyed admiring you makes up for it. He feels too excited to sleep but forces his eyes shut, turning the other way, and taking a deep breath to calm down.
You don't know this now but come morning you'll be pressed up against each other legs tangled and far too embarrassed to bring anything up. You hope he comes by again, maybe at a more reasonable hour next time so you can properly remember it. 
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batcavescolony · 4 months
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I'm back talking about Harry Potter and Snape's worst memory because while I hate the author y'all bug me.
Snape worst memory isn't James bulling him or string him up in front of the school, (that was bad I'm not saying it wasn't) it was Lily ending her friendship with him because he called her a Mudblood. With evidence.
To prove my point we have to go read the Deathly Hallows when Snape gave Harry his memories! We get to see the scene again but this time the thing that sticks out the most is Snape calling Lily a Mudblood. Now if that's not enough proof the next memory goes like this.
*Outside Gryffindor Tower*
Snape: I'm sorry
Lily: I'm not interested
S: I'm sorry!
L: save your breath... I only came out here because Mary told me you were threatening to sleep here.
S: I was. I would have done. I never ment to call you a Mudblood it just-
L: Slipped out? It's too late. I've made excuses for you for years. None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you. You and your precious little Death Eater friends- you see, you don't even deny it! You don't even deny that's what you're all aiming to be! You can't wait to join You-Know-Who, can you? I can't pretend anymore. You've chosen your way, I've chosen mine.
S: No-listen, I didn't mean-
L:-to call me a Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?
*Lily leaves. Memory ends*
The next memory is Snape becoming a turn coat for Dumbledore so he could keep Lily safe because Voldemort wouldn't spare her.
Snape has had worse experiences then a teenage James Potter being a bully (even if it was shitty). so we look at the rest of the memory and lo and behold what do we see? The actual worst moment of Snape life, the moment he lost Lily forever.
#I just saw someone say they hated Lily because he's was too hard on Severus all he did was call her a Mudblood.#Yeah just called her a slur...And found it funny when dark magic was used on someone. And joined a hate group that would kill her.#And would've let her child and husband die if it ment she lived. bffr 🙄 lets put this in real world terms!#you're a minority (pick one) and you go to a school but their are some people who hate you for existing. but its ok you've got your bff!#now years go by and bff is still your bff but theyve changed. they're hanging out with those aforementioned people who hate you for existin#and yeah you dont like it but they're your bff since for ever so you make excuses. but then bff starts calling people like you slurs...#now bff hasn't called you slurs so maybe its just peer pressure you let it slide its your bff. now you find out that not only are there#people who hate you for existing there is his hate group and they want you and people like you dead. obviously you dont like his. now bffs#friends they want to join this hate group... and bff doesn't deny it. ok thats not great. bffs friends who wanna join the hate group have#now moved passed just calling people like you slurs. they've went and beat the shit out of a person like you that you considered a friend.#and bff.... they say that it was just a joke. but are again not denying wanting to join the hate group that wants you dead. you love bff so#you just keep your mouth shut. now the day comes! bff has now called you a slur. and you cant make excuses anymore. they're just like their#friends and you cut your losses because again bff and their friends want to join a hate group that wants to kill you!!!#its not poor litte Severus its poor Lily. she thought she had a friend and HE betrayed HER! but but but why didnt she stop him from joining#she was a child! she was in a new world with no idea! she was in a whole nother house! and its not her fucking job to fix him! he joined th#hate group HE KNEW HATED HER! if he truly loved her he wouldn't have joined. but but but its not that- ADROMADA TONKS could be a Slytherin#and not be a Death Eater and her family was pure blood. she could do it! so could Snape.#severus snape#lily potter#snapes worst memory#the marauders#harry potter#the deathly hallows#lily evans#put some more respected on her name.#fuck jkr#james potter#slytherin#how can you be a snape stan and not like lily that 80% of his personality.#snape
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sugume · 2 months
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YOUR BIGGEST FAN — GETO SUGURU
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✧・. on vacation with your family, you discover that your biggest fan may not be a mystery after fall.
( TW ) f!reader. camgirl!reader. stepbrother!Geto (in a plot device way, no nii-chan and stuff.) unprotected sex. cream pie. phone sex. squirting. fingering. mutual masturbation. cunnilingus. deception. mentions of bullying. misunderstandings. hurt/comfort. explicit content.  
word count - > 6.6k
authors note. can you see I wasn’t creative with the username? I have a love-hate relationship with this fic because I feel like it goes from 0 to 100 real quick lmfao. This is heavily inspired by the book Eyes on Me! 
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“I bet you look handsome.” You smile at the black screen with the default profile picture floating in the middle. 
‘Nah.’ User @Sssman72  types into the chat the takes up the left half of your computer. 
“Stop! Don’t say think bad things about yourself,” You laugh, making sure your tits jiggle in the flimsy red lingerie you're wearing. “I know your handsome baby.” You reassure your favorite client. The man who alone gives you 50% of your income. He’s the one who bought you this pretty lingerie set you're wearing.  
‘You look tired babydoll...how was today?’ He types. 
“I’m fine, I promise, just had a long day, was on a few other private chats with some other customers the entire day.” You confess. In all honesty after this call you were planning to pass out and try to get a few hours of sleep before you had to fly out to your family's vacation home. Today on your live stream, you told your followers you were going on vacation for the next two weeks and wouldn't be online. You didn't plan to get on a call with @Sssman72 but he had texted you as you were getting ready to go to bed that he had a bad day and wanted to see you. Before you had a chance to protest, he spent you 500 and said it would only be 30 minutes. You gave in because first he was your biggest supporter and you wanted to be there for him in some way with all the money and gifts, he sends you and second, you didn’t mind chatting with him, you thought he was the sweetest and you struck lucky the day he joined one of your lives.  
‘I’ll let you go then, I want you to get some rest before your flight, sorry for keeping you up beautiful just needed to vent about my ass job.’ 
“I’m always here for you handsome, I'll make sure to send you those pictures you requested through the week.” 
‘Make sure you enjoy your break babydoll, don’t gotta worry about me. Goodnight.’ 
You say your goodbyes and end up falling asleep in the lingerie bought you as soon as you shut your laptop. 
— 
“How’s college y/n?” Your stepfather asks when you slide into the back seat of the car. Your mother fitting the last of your luggage into the trunk.  
“it’s fine, some of my classes are difficult but nothing I can't manage.” You answer as you buckle in. 
“Oh yeah? Thats good. You mom tells me you started a job a few months ago, how's that working out for you?”  
You tense under the small blanket you’ve thrown over yourself. 
“u-uhm yeah its good—yeah it’s been fun.” 
“I’m sorry sweetheart, I don't remember what you mother told me you did again.” He chuckles. 
“Uhm—I'm a bartender, m-my friend works there and got me a position.” You tell him the lie you've rehearsed hundreds of times. You start to sweat under the blanket. Did he buy it? What if he and your mom found out what you did? Are they planning to ambush you when you get to the house? They're going to make you drop out and chain you up in the basement when they find out. You throw the blanket off, suddenly too hot and alert. Guess that nap you were planning on taking during the drive wasn’t happening. 
“Oh, that’s fun sweetheart, I remember I bartended awhile when I was in college, got fired for stealing the alcohol though,” He laughs at the memory before turning to look at you. “You wouldn’t do that though, you’re a good girl.” 
You nod, thankful that your mom decided now to take your stepdad's attention away and get in the car. 
“Alrighty were good to!” She cheers. Your stepdad turns back around in his seat before starting the car. 
“Finally, thought we were going to get a fine parked here another minute.” 
“Oh, shut up! Y/n are you excited to go back to the vacation house? You haven’t been in years!” You mom asks as you guys pull out of the airport.  
“Yeah, I can’t wait to, I missed the hiking trails and the waterfalls. None of that in the big city.” You answer truthfully. You did miss the silence of the secluded house you vacationed at every summer since your mom married your stepdad. It was the company that you hated. As if your mom heard your thought, she says something that makes your heart drop. 
“Suguru feels the same way, we didn't even have to blackmail him to come! That boy...” 
“Suguru is coming?” You scream.  
“Coming? Sweetie, he’s already arrived this morning. I’m so excited were all together as a family again.” 
“Are you fucking serious mom? Turn the car around and bring me back to the airport!” You screech. You were not going to spend the next week with your bully of a stepbrother.  
“Y/n!” You mom gasps. 
“Sweetheart, he’s changed.” Your stepdad tells you as if that's going to make it better. 
“That’s what he wants you to think! He’s the worst human being on planet earth, please don’t make me spend the next few weeks with him, please mom,” you lean over the consul. “Please dad.” You pout at your stepfather. You know he gets weak whenever you call him dad. 
“Sweetheart...” 
“No! You aren’t sweet talking your way out of this, he’s changed. He isn't the same teenager with a chip on his shoulder, he’s matured. He even told me the reason he’s coming is to apologize and bond with you y/n.” 
“He’s lying mom! He doesn't care about me; I wouldn't be surprised if he told you that just so he could drown me in the lake. You guys own the land so nobody would find my body!” You start to tear up. You were going to jump out of the car if your parents didn't turn back around. Your stepbrother was your biggest tormentor since the day you met him. From picking on you at home to getting the girls to bully you at school. He made your life hell for four years. The day you left for college you screamed how much you hated him and told your parents that the four of you would only be in the same room again when you lay in a casket. 
“Oh, don’t cry sweetheart. Your mother is right, he’s changed, I wouldn’t have allowed him around you if he hadn’t. Give us a week and if you want to leave, I promise I'll drive you back to the airport and you’ll never have to see him again, please?” 
“No.” You cross your arms and look out the window despite knowing that they’ve won. You can’t jump out of the car now that you are on the highway, and you didn’t bring your own car to drive yourself back to the airport. 
“We’ll give you the master suite, the whole attic floor to yourself.” They bargain. You act like you’re thinking of accepting the offer. With the master suite taking up the entire third floor you could lock yourself up there and ignore Suguru. You could also film videos and even go live because the room is soundproof. You perk up at that. You could just spend your vacation on stream and chatting with @Sssman72. He’s somehow always free for you and told you that if you get bored you could call him. He’ll make up for your stepbrother’s awful behavior. 
“Fine, I’ll take the master suite.” 
— 
“Okay that's the last of your luggage, we’ll be having dinner in a few hours on the dock.” 
“Kay, thanks.”  You watch your stepdad shut the door. Once he does you release the tension in your shoulders. You lock the door before running to throw yourself onto the huge king bed. You sink down. You didn’t see Suguru when you arrived, you mom told you he was probably in town. You hope he stayed in town for the next two weeks.  
After laying it bed thinking about how much you hate Suguru with a passion you pull out your phone and open the porn app. You click on messages and open your chat with @Sssman72. 
‘Hey...I know I told you I was on vacation but I already wanna go home. You don't have to answer lol.’ You send. He immediately starts typing.  
‘Of course, I'll answer you babydoll. What’s wrong?’  Your face heats at the pet names. You wish you knew what he looked like, all he told you about himself was that he was in his twenties and worked for his father's company. You want to know more, what he looks like, what he sounds like. If the messages he sends make you sweat, you wonder what’ll happen if he spoke to them to you. In your head he’s a handsome bachelor who just so happened to find you and deem you worthy of his time and money but hell, he could be lying. He could be some old rich man in his eighties who likes young girls like all the rest of your viewers. The romantic part of you ignores that and is convinced he is who he says he is and that one day you’re going to meet in person and fall in and have a bunch of his babies. 
‘You know that stepbrother I told you about?’ 
��Mm, that asshole who bullied you?’ 
‘Yep, that asshole. Anyways I bet you won't guess who's here on vacation with me?’ 
‘Are you serious?’ 
‘Dead serious...my parents didn’t tell me until I was already trapped and now, I have to spend my vacation away with a man who hates me for no reason.’ 
‘Wow that’s crazy lol. Did your parents tell you why he chose to vacation with you if he doesn’t like you?’ 
‘Apparently he’s here to make amends...he’s probably here to kill me so he gets all the inheritance.’ 
‘Well, what if he’s really there to make amends baby?’ 
‘You should've heard the groan I just let out. I can’t believe you’re on his side babe. When I tell you that he too evil for that I mean it.’ 
‘Hey, you know I'm always on your side babydoll, I'm just giving you a man’s perspective on it. Maybe he realized he’s fucked up and he feels back so he wants to apologize for all the wrong he caused you’ 
‘Yea well from a women's perspective he’s an asshole who doesn’t care about anyone else but himself!’ 
‘Don’t say the baby...hypothetically what would he have to do to get you to forgive him?’ 
‘Hypothetically he's going to have to get on his knees and beg for my forgiveness every time he sees me until I deem, he's forgiven. And he’s also gonna have to send every dollar in his bank account to me AND be my slave for the rest of his life...hypothetically.’ 
‘Lol you never know babydoll, he just might be willing to do anything for your forgiveness. I know I would.’ 
‘That’s because you’re perfect and care about my feelings...now I'm gonna go get some sleep before having to eat with the devil. Pray he doesn’t poison me and I survive the night.’ 
— 
You sit at the dinning room table waiting for Suguru. Of course, he’s late, he doesn’t care about anyone's time but his. You say so to your parents. 
“Y/n stop being so harsh and give him a chance please.” You roll your eyes and go back to scrolling on social media.  
“Sorry I'm late.” You jump at the deep voice before whipping your head to the left where your stepbrother stands looking so...so different. 
“Suguru! No need to apologize! Come sit.” Your mother points to the empty seat opposite you. Suguru glances at you and smiles before walking to the seat. You gasp. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile at you or anyone else. Actually, you know he hasn’t smiled at anyone, he was know for being so stoic. You watch intensely as he pulls out the chair and sits. He looks like a different man, his hair is long, down past his shoulders, the black shirt he's wearing stretches around a huge chest. He looks like he spends half his day in the gym. And those eyes—those eyes that always had heavy eyebags and glared at everyone that looked his way, look at you with gentle look you can’t place. They even crease with the smile that he’s wearing. Your eyes widen, he has a fucking dimple. He looks like a gentleman, he looks handsome. You can't stop staring at his smile. 
“Y/n? You alright?” You Stepdad breaks through the haze you were in. You look at your parents and back to Suguru who all have concerned expressions on their faces.  You feel your entire body heat in embarrassment.  
‘Uhm—yea I'm fine.” You look at your parents, refusing to look back at that smile.  Suguru has different plans. 
“Hey y/n, it’s been a long time yeah?” Suguru says in that deep voice that has your heart beating faster.  Out the corner of your eye you watch as Suguru reaches over the food, holding his hand out. Does he really think you’re about to give him a damn handshake?  
...Are you seriously thinking about shaking that huge hand? No, you won’t. 
You purse your lips and cross your arms over your chest. You swear you see him glance down at your cleavage but the next second, he's holding eye contact. You blink and look away with a ‘hmm’. He lowers his hand.  
“Alright guys let's eat, okay?” You mom breaks the tension. Everyone grabs their share, and you eat in silence for a while, nobody brave enough to speak and you simmering with anger at Suguru. You throw glare at him every time you look up from your plate which happens more times than you’d admit.  
“You got something there.” Suguru points the sharp end of the fork at you. 
“What?” You ask. 
“There,” He grabs his napkin and starts to reach for you. You tense suddenly locked in place. Suguru brings the napkin to the corner of your mouth and wipes it. “There you go.” 
You stare at him like he's grown three heads. Maybe he’s dying and wants to make amends? Why else would he be treating you like this. Maybe someone took over his body? That has to be it. 
“Uh thanks?” You mummer, unsure what to say. 
“You're welcome little sis.” You choke on your spit. What the hell did he just call you!? He must be messing with you; you’re suddenly filled with rage. You glare at him, hoping he disintegrates with the sheer force of your stare. 
“You’ve grown up.” Suguru says after another blinking contest, you lost. 
“Yea, have you?” You snarl. He stops smiling. 
“I have,” he says seriously, setting his fork down. “I want to talk about—” 
“I don’t care.” 
“Please—” 
“No!” You slam your hand on the table, and he goes silent. You’re overcome with guilt before you remember that he bullied you for a year, that he told the entire school to bully you after he graduated. Fuck him. 
— 
You slam the door the door of your room speed walking to the bathroom. You strip your clothes before turning on the tub. You finally breathe when you settle into the scolding hot water. You needed to wash his gaze, his touch, off your body. The entire dinner after your conversation was awkward, your parents didn't really speak, and you refused to glance back up at Suguru who wouldn't stop staring.  
You hated him. You hated him. You—you can’t bring yourself to hate him. For some unknown reason you can’t bring yourself to hate him despite everything he's put you through. Why? You shake your head. You don’t want to think of Suguru while you're trying to relax. You phone dings. You pick up and a smile replaces your frown. @Sssman72. 
‘How are you babydoll, you alive?’ 
‘Yes, wish I wasn’t though.’ 
‘Why what happened during dinner?’ You sigh and send him voice message detailing everything that happened. 
‘Oh wow.’ 
‘I know.’ 
‘You gonna give him a chance to explain?’ 
‘I don’t know I don’t want to but also, I want to hear his explanation...can we call I really don't want to type all of this out?’  
‘Course, give me a second. I'll call you.’ You wait a few minutes before you hear the familiar ring. 
“Hi handsome.” you smile at the blank profile. Right now, you’d do anything to see him, to hear him comfort you, to be in his arms. He could be the ugliest man in the world, you wouldn’t care. 
‘HI beautiful. Talk to me.’ He types into the chat box. 
“I don't know. like I said I want to hear him out but also, I don't want to hear it because what it it’s bad, what if it doesn’t excuse it? But also, what if it does and I feel like shit for being mean back—it's just so stressful.” 
‘I know babydoll. I wish I could be there right now and hold you. I would do anything to take that hurt away. I'm sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.’ 
“Stop, don’t apologize you didn’t do anything. If anything, I should apologize for using you as a therapist when you paid to see me naked.” You laugh. 
‘Beautiful girl—I would rather pay to hear all your problems and be able to comfort you than see you naked again.’ 
“Wow you don’t want to see me naked, I'm hurt. Just kidding, thank you for saying that handsome.” You feel your heart skip a beat at his message. Maybe you can convince him to turn his camera on tonight. 
“I kinda wanna take my mind off everything right now.” You murmur into the phone before turning on your camera. You hold it above you and smile so he can see everything.  
‘So, fucking beautiful, prettiest girl in the world. You gonna give me a show?’ 
“hm,” You use your free hand to tap your chin. “Only if you do something for me.” 
‘And what is that?’ 
‘Can you turn your camera on? And before you say no, you don’ have to show your face—maybe you can just show your dick or something else. We can masturbate on the phone, please handsome please.” You whine giving him your best puppy face. You watch as the chat bubbles disappear and reappear. You’re about to back out but all the sudden you’re looking at a dim lit room and a huge cock between a big hand. Your eyes widen and the sight. 
"Y-you probably won’t be able to type and jack off at the same time” You suck in a breath. Please turn your audio on please... 
‘I’m gonna turn my audio on but I won’t talk, okay? Think you can get off on my moans babydoll?’  
You nod. 
‘Good girl now show me that pretty pussy, make it squirt for me.’ 
You lift yourself up to sit on the corner of the tub, propping one leg on tub and spreading the other that rests in the water. You flip the camera so your mystery man can watch you finger yourself. You hear him groan and spit onto his hand. 
You moan softly at the sound, teasing your entrance. You wish he was talking to through it, but you’ll settle for this for now. One day... 
“Mmm, wish you were the one fingering me right now,” You circle your clit before gliding your fingers out your cunt. 
“Wish you were here, holding me n' fucking me.” You curl your fingers into your g-spot and moan. You look back at your phone, watching your stranger play with the tip of his long cock. It looks so big compared to his hand, you know you’ll struggle to take it. Your pussy clenches around your small fingers that do close to nothing compared to your dildos at home.  
“Wan’ your cock in me so bad, it looks so big you’ll have to force me to take it, you’ll have to hold me down and make me take it.” You cry out. You watch as he squeezes his hand up and down his cock. It looks painful. He grunts louder. 
“M’gonna cum for you handsome, m’gonna give you what you want and make a mess,” You speed up your fingers to match how fast he slides his fist up and his cock. You moan louder, thankful that you got the suite and aren’t in the room next to your stepbrothers, how embarrassing it would be if he could hear you pleasuring yourself.  
You clench harder around your fingers. Your stranger starts to grunt and groan louder. You shiver at his deep voice on the edge of cumming. 
“Please please let me cum please! Can I come for you please?” You cry, your pussy starts to squelch, spurts of liquid coming out. 
“Yes, cum for me.” Your mystery man groans in an all too familiar voice but before you have time to think about it, you’re squirting, the grip on your phone loosening and falling into the water. 
“N-no!” 
— 
“Yes, this phone is done for, your mother and I are heading into town we can try to find a company that sells phone, but you know how small towns like this are.” You stepdad stares at your phone that’s been sitting in a container full of rice since last night.  
“Fuck, I need it for work! What am I going to do?” You look up at him in distress. 
“What do you need your phone for bartending?” He looks down at you incredulously. 
“My boss is sending me some important email and I didn't bring my computer.” You lie. 
“Well, you can use Suguru’s laptop, I saw him using it this morning in the sitting room. Think he left it there before he went on his run.” Your stepdad points down the hall as your mother rounds the corner.  
“Ready to go honey?” She asks your stepdad. 
“Coming! Use Suguru laptop to check your email, if we come back and you haven’t got the email you can use my phone. Bye! Have fun and be nice!” Your stepdad waves before following your mother. You wave back. 
 Of course, you had to use Suguru’s laptop. Maybe you can just log in, tell your stranger that you’re okay and that you won’t be able to contact him until you get a new phone and then delete the history before Suguru comes back from his run. It’ll only take a few minutes...you hope he doesn’t a password.  
You run to the sitting room, but you don’t see a laptop anywhere. Dammit, he always has to make things hard for you. You walk up the round staircase and down the hall until you're standing in front of Suguru’s room. You look around, as if Suguru's gonna pop up out of nowhere and attack you from going into his room. You shake the thought off and open his door. You stop and stare at the bed, you feel like you've seen that duvet. You chalk it up to a bunch of man having the same bedding before turning to scan the room for a laptop. You quickly spot the laptop on his desk and run to it. You sigh in relief when it opens to the last tab he had opened. Thank you Suguru for not caring about who gets into your shit. You click new tab and start to type in the name of the website you use before you freeze.  
You only need to type in three letters before the website popped up in top hits. You stop breathing. No... He couldn’t know what you do. Is that why he came here? Was he going to expose you to your parents? Was he acting nice to butter you up before crushing you? Your vision starts to blur. All boys watch porn, maybe he just happens to watch porn on the same website you film on. You can block your account from him so that he never finds you. You swallow before clicking the tab. You shakily move they pointer over to the search bar before you spot something in the left corner that makes you dizzy.  
Right where the username of the viewer is supposed to be is the username @Sssman72. Your heart stops and you feel wetness hit your hands. This can’t be real. You move to chat and cry out when you see your username. The last text he sent was asking what happened. No—this is a dream; you’re going to wake up and this is going to be a bad nightmare. You refuse to believe the man you’ve been slowly falling in love with over the last six months is your stepbrother, your bully. The man you confessed all your darkest secrets is the man who never showed you an ounce of kindness. Is this a part of his master plan? Is he going to blackmail you and hold all the nudes you’ve sent him and all the secrets you’ve told him over your head. You’re going to become his slave, doing whatever he wants of you until you die. You curl into yourself and cry harder at the thought.  
“Y/n? What are you do—” Suguru stops when he sees what's on the screen. “Let me explain please baby.” He reaches out to touch your shoulder. You flinch away from his touch.  
“D-don’t call me that,” You sob staring at him with such heartbreak in your eyes he wants to drop and beg for your forgiveness. “You-you, it was you the whole time.” Your voice breaks. 
Suguru nods slowly trying to reach out for you again. You take a few steps away. “Was this some masterplan to hold me under your thumb for the rest of my life!?” You scream at him. 
He’s grateful your parents went out of town; this would be an absolute shitshow if they were here.  
“No babydoll—” 
“I said don’t call me that you asshole! Stop pretending. I hate you Suguru! You win okay, you win!” You tell him before you run out of his room. He curses before running after you, you run up that stairs and into the suite but before you can shut the door Suguru shoves it open. You drop to your knees to pull your suitcase from under your bed. 
“Please listen to me y/n. I wasn’t faking—stop packing and let me explain.” Suguru pleads as he watches you throw your clothes into your suitcase. 
“Y/n, baby, please listen to me please” He grabs your arm, and you try to fight him, but he pulls you down onto the bed with him. He hugs you around the waist and you push in this chest trying to break free. His heart aches. He hates seeing you hurt, he hates that he was the one who made you cry like this. He hates that you only associate him with the version of himself that he created to stop anyone from seeing what he was truly feeling. He hates that you won’t accept the real version of him now that you know it was him. He holds you tighter as you scream and cry. He whispers sweet nothings as you whisper how much you hate him. At some point you stop fighting and wrapping your arms around his neck. You sniffle into his neck, and he rubs your backs and rocks you.  
“Why?” You ask hoarsely after all the anger leaves your body. Now you feel numb, like you're watching your life from a third perspective.   
“I never hated you, I never lied, and I never planned to blackmail you—I know you don’t believe me baby but everything I've ever told you on that app was real. Everything I feel for you is real.”   You pull your face out of his neck and stare up at him. You don’t believe him. 
“I have never hated you y/n. I swear it. I hated the fact that my father replaced my mother with yours not even a year after she died. Baby, I never fucking hated you. I was just a teenager who didn’t know how to express my emotions so I took them out of the person I knew I could hurt the most. It was bad I know; I feel like shit to this day. When I graduated and got away from my father, I realized how bad I was to you, and I got into therapy. I wanted to be better for myself, for you, for everyone around me. I didn’t know that the bullying continued when I left. I didn’t know how bad people had taken it until that day I came back home. When you told me off about it, I was so confused. I’m so fucking sorry. I want to reach out and apologize for everything and the day I planned to do it Satoru—my best friend, you remember him—well he sent me the link to your account and so I made an account and it all just spiralized out of control after that. I was too embarrassed to tell you it was me and then we started to form a connection, a real connection, and I didn’t want our conversations to end so—fuck I'm sorry. Everything I told you; I meant it. I fucking meant every word.”  
You sit there stunned, trying to comprehend everything he said. You never knew about his mother. You thought she had passed away long before your mom and his dad had met. But you remember when your stranger told you that. God, you remember when your not so mystery man told you about his family the seemed so familiar to yours. And he didn’t tell all those people to bully you after he left? Did he mean every word? Every word of affirmation he gave you. Those times when he told you that you were capable of being loved and that you were going to find someone who would love every part of you, the good and bad. Was that the same Suguru? You try to wrap your mind around the fact that the man you love is your stepbrother. 
“I know it’s a lot of information.” 
“It is.” 
“Do you believe me?” He looks at you with furrowed brows. You do. Despite everything you find yourself nodding. He sighs and you feel the tension release from his shoulders that your arms are wrapped around. You suddenly realize the position you two are in and feel your face heat. Your arms are wrapped around his neck and your legs are on either side of his thick thighs his cock, the cock that you saw last night, is right underneath you, if you lower yourself an inch, you’d be sitting on it.  
Suguru grips your waist with one hand, the other cupping the right side of your face. You look up at him and sniffle. He leans down until your foreheads are touching.  
“If you give me achance, I'll treat you like the queen you are. I’ll love you the way you’re meant to be loved. One chance is all I ask for.” He mummers rubbing your noses together.  
You hesitate, one part of you wants to run away with him because he’s the man you’ve wanted for the last six months. The other part of you wants to run away from him, he’s your stepbrother, he lied, and you don't know if he would’ve ever told you the truth. But isn’t that what he came here to do? Can you blame a little boy for being mad at the people who replaced his mother?  
You give him his answer by grabbind his neck and push his lips towards you. If this does go to hell at least you’ll have a story to tell your feature children.  
Suguru kisses back before standing and pulling you off him. “What—” 
“You said you wanted me on my knees, didn't you? I’m ready to serve you in any way you want. I can have my savings transferred to your account by tomorrow night.” He says as he drops to his knees. You stare at him with wide eyes as he holds your legs and starts kissing from knee to right where your pussy starts.  
“Suguru—” 
“Shh babydoll let me take care of my girl, show her how sorry I am for hurting her.” He mummers before dropping your leg and picking up the next one. He repeats this a few more times before finally asking you to lift your hips so he can pull your leggings and panties off. Suguru throws your pants behind him before standing up to pull your tank top off. You reach behind to unbuckle your bra and toss it on the floor with your other clothes. Suguru chuckles, reaching up to kiss all over your face. 
“Take your clothes off too Sugu.” You giggle, reaching for his sweatpants. You get a firm grip and yank them down. His thick cock bounces out. Your mouth goes slack. The phone call didn’t do it justice. It somehow looks bigger than before and if you weren’t wet before, you are now. That thing is going to be inside you soon.  
“Like what you see beautiful?” You nod dumbly as you watch Suguru step out of his pants and take his shirt off with one hand. He’s so fucking sexy.  
He drops back down to his knees and pulls you until your ass is hanging off the bed. “Lay down and let me please you.”  You comply and watch as Suguru lifts your legs up and buries his face in your cunt. Your hands fly down to his long shiny hair. 
“Suguru!” You moan as he licks you from asshole to clit. He sucks on your clit before biting both lips. Your pussy clenches. “Feels s’good Sugu!” You grind down on his talented tongue. Suguru hums into your clit before setting one of you thighs in his shoulder and bringing his fingers to your entrance. He teases you, only pushing his fingers into the joint before taking them out. You cry out in frustration before pulling on his long hair when he finally slides two big fingers into you. 
Yours definitely don't compare to his long thick ones. Your back arches off the bed as Suguru fingers jackhammer into you all the while his mouth sucks on your clit.  
“S’good Sugu! Don’t stop!” You scream letting go of hair with one hand to cover your loud mouth.  
“Don’t hide those sweet moans from me babydoll. If you want my cock, you’ll let me hear you scream my name as you cum on my fingers and mouth.” 
You bring you hand back to hair and grind hard as you get closer and closer to orgasm.  
“Gonna cum! M’gonna come!” You cry, as you release all over Suguru's face. He moans and sucks even harder before adding another finger. You cry at the sudden intrusion. It doesn't take long before you’re coming all over again, this time liquid shooting out of you and onto Sugu’s chest.  
“Yes baby, that's it—what a good girl,” He praises as he slurps up all your juices. “Such a fucking good gril f’me.” 
“Gimme a kiss.” You say between heavy breaths.  
“Does the pretty girl want kiss?” You nod, pulling Suguru down with you by the shoulders. 
“Want you to kiss me while you fuck me for the first time. Want it to be special,” You confess shyly. Suguru leans down and pecks you on the forehead, then the nose, and then both of your cheeks. 
“Don’ tease meanie!” You laugh when he kisses the corner of your lips. 
“M’sorry baby, can you forgive me?” He pouts.  
“Hmm—I’ll forgive you only if you kiss me right no—” You don’t even finish your sentence before Suguru shoves his tongue down your throat. You kiss him back and your tongues fight for dominance. Suguru wins and smiles into the kiss. You can’t believe this is happening. Your bully, your stepbrother, your mystery man is kissing you right now. Your about to make love with said man. 
“You okay babydoll?”  
“Mhm, just can’t believe this is all happening.” 
“Me too beautiful, you sure you want to do this right now? We can always wait.” 
“No, I want to. I want you.” You raise your hand to tuck his hair behind his ear. He smiles, showing you that adorable dimple. You kiss it.  
Suguru kisses your lips once more before he grabs his cock, rubbing it up and down your cunt. 
“Fuck—I don’t have a condom.” 
“I’m on the pill—please Sugu.” You beg, frustrated from all this foreplay. You’ve been on edge since last tight in the tub.  
“Alight beautiful,” He pushes the head of his cock into you. “Fuck me—you feel so good. Always knew you would.” You feel his fist guide his long cock into you. You moan. He fits you perfectly.  
“Sugu—feel’s s’good, want more!” You cry, fisting the blanket’s underneath you.  
“Does my baby want more—does she want to orgasm on my cock?” You nod watching Suguru lift your legs to his shoulder. He leans down, bringing your feet to the side of your head. You whine at the stretch. 
Suguru groans as he pulls his cock in and out of you.  
“S’too much!” You moan into his shoulder. He just laughs and picks up his pace. The fancy headboard above the bed starts to slam against the wall. You watch with blurry eyes as the stock photos hung on the wall shake. ��
“Said you wanted more baby, ‘m giving you more.”  he says before biting into your neck. Hard. You scream, back arching at the pain. Your hands fist the sheets even tighter, knuckles turning white. Suguru unlatches his jaw. Lifting his head to admire his mark. Now all your customers will know you belong to someone. To him. He kisses the mark. 
“Sugu, It’s too much. Hurts! m’gonna cum!” You cry, tears soaking the blanket breath you. 
“Oh, don't cry baby—shhh—you’re so beautiful y/n. So damn pretty.” He whispers, coaxing you to orgasm. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. You stop breathing for a second as your pussy contracts around Suguru's cock. Suguru follows in suit, spurting his cum deep inside your pussy. 
“Fuck,” he draws out, collapsing onto you.  
“T-that was—” 
“The best sex ‘ve ever had.” 
“Same.” You smile before wincing. 
“What’s wrong babydoll.”  
“You're about to break my damn hip if you keep my legs up any longer,” Suguru lefts himself enough to bring your legs to his sides. “And you probably ripped a chunk of my neck off with that little trick of yours.” You grumble. 
“It’s not bad, promise.” He kisses the bite mark softly. 
“And all the pictures fell of the wall.”  
“I’ll put ‘em back up baby,” He laughs into your ear. “Just let me hold you for a second.”  He kisses your cheek before snuggling deeper into you. You throw your arms around his shoulder while you both try to wrap your head around everything that happened.  
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toxicanonymity · 2 months
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it's hard (stepdad one shot)
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3k words, stepdad!joel x f!reader
“Can I tell ya somethin'?” He whispers. “What?” You ask. He takes a deep breath. He scoots back, making room for you to roll onto your back and look up at him. His face is serious. He takes off his glasses and reaches to put them on the side table. His eyes are always browner than you remember. 
SUMMARY: You're at their house xmas wk. WARNINGS: I8+ stepcest, angst, pining, fluff, possessive!joel, sneaking around, outercourse, unsafe p in v, mess of cum. reader can sit on him. Mood board is for mood. A/N: Title is an album by The Who.
It’s Christmas week, only a few days after your first time with Joel, and you’re staying at their house. You show up later than you said you would, and Joel has already asked where you are. The truth is, you're nervous. You’re not sure you want to have sex in their house, and you’re also not sure you can resist.  It’s too mortifying to think about getting caught. There are plenty of other places you can do it–your apartment, a motel, a car. You’re trying to be smart and slow down. 
When you show up, your mom’s car isn’t there. Joel is in the kitchen wearing his standard gray joggers, a tight white tee, and socks with coconuts on them. No shoes. He lights up when you walk in. "Hey," you mutter and he replies in kind as you close the door behind you. You survey the living room where there’s a pillow and blankets on the sofa, and you pity him for a moment.  
“Oh,” he goes over to the christmas tree and plugs in the multicolor lights. “Merry Christmas week.” You stand there with your bags, not really sure what you’re doing, or feeling. He approaches you cautiously. 
You look at each other for a few seconds until you're both comfortable that the other still feels the same way. 
“I'll take those,” Joel finally offers. As he takes the bag off your shoulder, he gives you a peck on the cheek. “Good to see you,” he mumbles. His shirt rides up as he slings the bag over his shoulder and you follow him upstairs. He glances back and teases, “Caught ya lookin’.”
Once you make it to your bedroom you ask, “where's mom?” 
“Grabbin’ dinner. Guess we’ll eat when she's back.”  He puts the bags down on your bed and steps toward you. You don’t step away. He gently pulls you into a hug. You inhale his scent as his arms wrap around you. 
The embrace lingers, and you can't ignore the warmth of his mostly-soft package pressing against you. 
You begin to whisper, “I don't think we should. . .”  trailing off when you realize you're not sure where to draw the line. Every second in his arms, you're less and less sure. 
“Okay,” Joel murmurs. He kisses you on the cheek–slower, more tender than his initial greeting. “Whatever you want,” he adds. He presses his lips into your cheek again, and they linger for a moment before he drags them away. 
“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself, then pull away, cheeks burning as his arms reluctantly loosen and his hands slide down, skimming your sides as you step back. 
“I'm gonna unpack,” you mutter, glancing at your luggage, cheeks warm. 
“Yeah,” Joel scratches one side of his beard. “Okay.” 
One day at a time. Have some self-control. You pull yourself away. 
He nods, looks down, and turns around to leave. His back is sooo broad.  You want to reach out and run your hand over his muscles, but you know you wouldn't stop there.
You lock the door behind him and hope it isn't too offensive. As soon as he’s out, you exhale. You lay down on your bed.  You open your nightstand drawer and your heart flutters at a box with a bow on it, and your name in his handwriting. Under it, there's a new pack of batteries. 
You wonder if he's about to jerk off, but you don't wait to find out. You close your eyes and imagine him coming back through the door, unable to resist.
—------------- 
Your Mom comes home with Thai food and the three of you sit down to dinner together. Your mom makes small talk while Joel makes a mess of the pad thai trying to serve himself. Noodles are dragging behind, tethering the pile on his plate to the main container.  Your mom bristles at this in her peripheral vision. 
“So,” your Mom puts on her best interested face and asks you,“Swipe right on anyone lately?” 
Joel scoffs silently. 
“Not many,” you answer. Every time she talks to you, your heart races like you’re about to walk into a trap. This is your own doing, and you know it. 
“How many guys are on there, anyway?”
“A lot.” 
“Can I see?”
It doesn’t even occur to you to say no. 
You open tinder and slide your phone over. “Just swipe left.” 
Joel’s chewing slows down as he stares at the dating app open on your phone. Your stomach drops.
You hadn’t used it at all this week. You would’ve deleted it if you thought about it, but you’re so used to ignoring the notifications. You look at Joel apologetically as your Mom keeps swiping left.
Joel’s nostrils flare, and his breaths become faster. He swallows and doesn’t take another bite. He taps his chopsticks on his plate. 
“Oh,” your Mom addresses you. “You know who’s single?” She looks up from your phone. Joel takes a deep breath and looks at her with his brow furrowed. 
“Harold, down the street.”
“What the hell would she want with Harold?” Joel snaps. 
Your mom chuckles. “What’s wrong with Harold?” 
Her phone rings. Joel puts his chopsticks down and clasps his hands behind his chair to stretch his back. As soon as your Mom stands up from the table, he leans forward and takes your phone. 
“What’s this about?” he asks flatly.  It’s still open to tinder. His jaw clenches. He looks into your messages. At least he can see you haven’t sent any. 
“I forgot I even had it,” you explain. 
He goes to the home screen. “Good, you won’t mind.” He holds down the app and presses uninstall.
“What else ya got?” he starts scrolling your apps.
He goes on instagram and opens a picture of you in a mildly low cut dress. He deletes it and opens another picture. His breathing is still agitated. 
“Hey,” you reach for your phone. “What the hell?” You take it from his hand. “Are you gonna act even crazier now?” 
His brow furrows and he stares at the table, then meets your eyes and swallows. “I dunno.” His face softens as he looks at you.
Then he gets pensive and asks, “What do you think of Harold?” 
You roll your eyes. “I don’t think about Harold at all.” You pocket your phone and get up from the table. 
“Wait, where ya goin’?”
“Meeting a friend for coffee.”
He’s rubbing his beard like he’s trying not to say anything, but he blurts out, “What friend?”
“Emma. . . Jesus.” 
On your way out of the neighborhood, you pass Harold’s house. It feels like every time you drive by in the daylight, he's struggling to bring some kind of delivery inside - Amazon boxes, or even donuts and iced coffee. Tonight he's sitting at his kitchen table alone, wrapping a present.
—--
When you’re at the cafe with Emma, Joel texts you, Sorry.
It’s ok, you reply. 
It's a struggle not to tell Emma what's going on, but you don't. You tell her you’re seeing someone but don't want to jinx it by saying too much.
When you get home, he’s in the kitchen casually leaning with his butt and hands against the counter.  “How ‘bout some egg nog?” 
“No thanks,” you tell him, but you linger. 
“We good?” he asks, quieter. You nod as you take off your jacket, then put it in the coat closet. 
When you turn around, he’s right in your space. His eyes are red and his hair is messier than earlier, giving you a rush of desire.
“Sorry,” he repeats and reaches for your head.
You don’t pull away.
He cradles the back of your head as he hugs you loosely. You let your hands lightly skim his hips, then wrap around him. It would be a harmless hug in a different family. Until he pulls his head back, then rubs his nose against yours. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, nostrils filling with his aftershave. Then a toilet flushes in the background, and you break apart. 
“I’m going to read,” you mumble. His fingertips skim your ass as you walk away. 
—------------- 
You’re lying in bed later, still reading, when Joel sends you a snapchat. The notification makes you tingle, but when you open it, it’s not him. It’s the TV downstairs with the title card of Krampus. You get out of bed and pad over to your mom's room. You crack the door open, and she's passed out. 
You go downstairs.
Joel is lying on his side on the sofa. You and he are wearing the same pajamas you got for Christmas last year. The Christmas tree casts the room in a dim, cozy light. 
He welcomes you under his arm. Just a little cuddling, you lie to yourself.
Without much hesitation, you settle in as a small spoon so you're both facing the tv. He runs his hand up and down your side before dangling his arm over your waist.  The bulge in his pants is barely grazing you, until you push your ass back and he inhales sharply, then cups your breast, using his forearm across your torso to bring you closer. His nose nudges your neck and you can feel him inhaling your scent. His warm package nudges your ass. It's the first time you've felt him soft, like really felt him. It's still quite a bulge.
He's not soft for long. Soon he’s lightly grinding against you, hard and getting harder as the movie quietly plays. His hand leaves your breast, skimming down your soft pajama top to its bottom hem. His fingers creep under the shirt and when they hit your bare skin, the shock of arousal has you thinking very stupid thoughts. Like, maybe you should ride him on this couch, come what may. You stop his hand from going any further up your shirt. 
His arm relaxes in defeat. 
You gently take his hand out from under your shirt and bring it near your breast, where it was. Instead, he covers your hand with his and interlaces his fingers. His thumb brushes yours at a slow rhythm, and the butterflies in your chest nearly make you forget what you're trying to resist until his cock twitches against you.
He takes his hand back only for a moment to adjust himself, then his hand returns to yours. His arm wraps tighter over you. Against your back, his chest expands with each breath. The rhythmic stroke of his thumb lulls you half-asleep. 
“Can I tell ya somethin?” He whispers. 
“What?” You ask. 
He takes a deep breath. He scoots back, making room for you to roll onto your back and look up at him. His face is serious. He takes off his glasses and reaches back to put them on the side table. His eyes are always browner than you remember. 
“I wanna do this every night,” he says. 
Your heart flutters. You turn on your side to face him. 
“I mean it,” his eyes are somber. He lays his hand on your side. He takes in a shaky breath. “I'm miserable without you.” 
“I'm right here.” 
He shakes his head. “I need all of you.” 
You look at each other for a few seconds in the light of the Christmas tree. There's not much to say. 
“Me too,” you whisper. His nose twitches and he shakes his head like you don't get it.
“What I’m tryin’ to say is. . .I’d ruin my life for you, if it wouldn't ruin yours, too.”
You read each other's eyes for a long moment.
“What life,” you whisper.
His eyes brighten. “That's how I feel.”  His gaze falls to your lips. “We’ll get a new one.” 
You want to kiss him, but don't want to end up naked. First you warn,  “I don't wanna take off any-”  
He cuts you off with his lips. They’re soft and needy. Then his hand runs down your side, over your ass, and his fingers dig into your flannel-clad thigh. You hike your knee up and wrap your leg around him. The hard shape in his pants presses right against your most sensitive place. “Mm,”  you moan softly into his mouth.
You’re throbbing for him. So turned on. His tongue slides against yours and he feeds on your mouth as he grinds against you. His dick is fat and hard and warm.
As you move against each other, pangs of pleasure dart to your nipples, your ass, your chest. He's so hard. Your body flutters on the edge of bliss but stays there. He grabs the plush of your ass, pulling you harder against him. You break the kiss with a gasp, and he latches onto your neck. 
With a push of his hips, he moans into your neck then whispers, “can't wait to be inside you again.” you throb and gush at the thought. He grinds against you a little harder, needier, but just as slow. “Fuck, you feel good.” He rolls over on his back, bringing you on top of him. Then he sits up and lifts your knees so your legs wrap around him and you hang onto his neck.
“God I wanna fuck you like this,” he whispers, holding you against him. His cock swells harder. You're throbbing madly. You card your fingers into his hair and he groans at your fingertips on his scalp. His strong arm holds you against him with his hips lifting under you. 
“Me too,” you whisper, your legs pulling yourself closer, harder. You groan softly. “Want you inside me—fuck, just like this.”
“Can ya feel it,” he asks, “ohhh–cause I still feel it–god–every time I close my eyes.” He moans as his stiff manhood twitches against you. Your clit pulses and you gasp. He covers your mouth with a kiss as you come. Everything else fades away. His lips break away with a shudder as he explodes against you through the soft flannel, pulsing hard. Your chest flutters at the feeling.
When you're both done, he lets you back onto the sofa, and resumes his position on his side. He pulls you back against him with a sigh. You're pleasantly surprised that you don't feel a bigger mess against your back.
“Shit,” he mutters after a minute.
“What?”
“‘s’not your problem.” 
“Say it.” You roll on your back to look at him.
His cheeks flush. “M’not empty.” 
Your heart skips a beat.
“Not your problem,” he repeats, but you’re already pulling down your waistband. Yeah, it’s. . .not a problem at all.
You turn on your side again, facing the tv. You reach back into his pants, and your breath hitches at the mess of cum enrobing his slowly softening dick.
“Do it,” you whisper, and tilt your hips for him.
He quickly notches his cum smeared dick at your entrance, no longer fully hard, but hard enough. He presses on your mound as he plunges into you, dividing your insides with a sigh. “Fuck,” he breathes. Your chest feels light as your body makes space for him. 
You close your eyes as he further stiffens, growing inside you, pressing against your walls. His hand slides up your top. He gropes your breast as he retreats, then bottoms out again. Within a few strokes, he’s as stiff as ever, and you’re as full as ever. 
He pauses, fully seated inside you, throbbing. He covers you both with a blanket. You're relieved there's another one beneath you. He breathes against your ear as his hand meanders under your top again. “Inside?” 
“Yeah,” You nod.  
“Where it should be,” he pants. He moans as he slowly fucks you.
“Want it all,” you beg, getting closer and closer with the tight drag of him within you.
He adjusts his position, sliding his arm under your neck so he can grope you with both hands, hugging you tight against him.
"'s'all I think about," he whispers. "Ungghhh---when I wake up---ohh--when I go to sleep."
He moans softly and his hands feel you greedily, "whenever you're ready."
“Fuck,” you whisper. He buries himself in you slow and deep. His breath is hot on your neck. You push back on him, swallowing every inch he’ll feed your drooling cunt. He buries his mouth and nose against your head. The Christmas lights are blurry in the corner of your eye.
“Feel so perfect,” he pants. He rubs your clit and you still his hand. He withdraws part way and pauses with his tip nudging just the right spot. He just barely rocks his hips, staying right there, rubbing over it, not letting up.
You gasp and tighten with tension, then sigh as you gush on him.
“Yeah,” he pants, presses your mound for leverage, and bottoms out as you choke his cock.
He sighs and begins to pulse with even more power than you remember. A huge burst of warmth, followed by a smaller twitch, another massive burst, a slow thrust. It keeps coming, and so do you. His breaths are heavy against you, his stomach flexing into your back as he empties his load. You're overflowing with cum. Your climax wanes, and he's still pulsing even once he's dry.
It finally stops, and he rests inside.
-
You catch your breath, and the smell of sex hangs so heavy in the air that dread bubbles in your chest. You pull yourself forward, letting his cock fall out.
“Shit,” you mutter at the mess between your legs. You pull your pants up. He squeezes your hip affectionately as you sit up.
He sits up on his elbow and tucks away his worn out cock. He takes a deep breath and searches your eyes.
You don't know what to say. You reach back to feel the blanket – soaked. “This is. . .we can’t do this again.”
He whispers your name, sits up and rests one hand on your back, one on your thigh. His chest is heaving like he's waking up from a nightmare. “What happened,” he whispers. “Talk to me.”
“Here. We can't do this here.”
He sighs and swallows. “Okay,” he whispers. “Sorry.”
“You know how to use the washer, right?”
“Yeah. I've got it. Of course.”
You take off your pajama bottoms.
“You okay ?” He asks.
You nod. You yearn to lay with him, but you’re also compelled to leave that room.
You read his face and the worry on it makes your heart hurt.
“It's okay,” you whisper, then kiss him good night. It's a long, soft kiss, and he doesn't want to let you go. “It’s okay, I promise,” you assure him.
You creep up the stairs pantsless. The air is cool on the cum between your thighs until more warmth trickles out.
You clean up in your bathroom and hear the washer turn on downstairs. You can't get his pitiful look out of your head. You send him a chat when you get back in bed: Good night ❤️.
Sweet dreams ❤️🤟, he replies.
—---
----
----
Thank you for reading!
PSA - The main story to stepdad is over, and I don't commit to another arc of them, but the AU is still open for one shots, asks, HCs, whatever I get inspired on. Basically I want it to be more casual without expectations.
There will be another post this month, because I already wrote the smut.
@silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading @rainstorms-library @nervousmumbling
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finalgilmoregirl · 5 months
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omg I loved your grumpy x sunshine Mike and reader work - could you please do another scenario where the sunshine! reader is the one who has a bad day and it’s up to grumpy! Mike to comfort and help out in his own way? :) thanks for sharing your work!
a/n : i'm glad you enjoyed it, thanks for the request. fem!reader, she/her pronouns, mainly just fluff
☆ bad day : grumpy!mike schmidt x sunshine!fem!reader
mike knew something was wrong the moment he closed his door behind him and was greeted with silence has he entered the house.
you were always rushing in to greet him as soon as the sound of his keys against the door knob signaled his arrival, but today that clearly wasn't the case.
"hello?" mike called out and a moment later was met by the sight of abby creeping out of the hallway.
"where's y/n?"
"well hello to you too" the young girl rolled her eyes, walking past mike and heading for the kitchen.
"sorry" he sighed, catching her arm before she got too far and pulling her into his arms for a hug, earning a groan in response. "how was your day?"
"it was okay, but i think y/n/n's sick."
"sick? what do you mean?" mike thought back to when he last saw you just that morning. you were fine, your normally bubbly self despite the early hours, yawning between giggles as you and abby got breakfast prepared.
abby shrugged, "i don't know, she's been in bed since we got home."
mike knew you better than abby to know that you couldn't be sick. even if you were sick, you would protest and continue your daily routine as usual. something had to have been seriously wrong for you to defy from that routine and lay in bed for hours, especially with abby home. you hated to leave her alone and always tried to find something spontaneous and fun for the two of you to do if time permitted.
he warily walked into the direction of your shared bedroom and slowly opened the door that was left ajar. the lights were off and if it wasn't for the glow of the hallway light, he wouldn't have been able to see your figure on the bed in the dimness of the afternoon darkness.
but there you were, laying on your side, facing away from the door. mike could tell you weren't sleeping by the way that you were scratching at the loose threads of the faded colored duvet.
"hey" he called out softly, nearing your spot on the bed where he then took a seat on the edge, softly placing a hand on your shoulder. "you okay?" he asked, trying to gauge your emotions. that quickly cleared up however when he heard a sniffle come from you, followed by a small hiccup. you were crying.
mike leaned over to look at your face and was met with wet eyes and puffy chapped lips. his eyebrows furrowed, "hey hey hey" he said softly, moving you so you were now laying on your back, looking up at the ceiling as you tried to will the tears away. you hated crying, and you knew mike hated to see you cry. "what's wrong? what happened?"
you closed your eyes and let out a deep breath, clearly trying to control yourself. "just...had a bad day." you sighed.
"well, talk to me about it." mike wasn't always the best at dealing with emotions, but he was good at comforting you and abby, always wanting you to open up to him, even if he had trouble doing the same sometimes.
you took in another deep breath and nodded, preparing yourself to tell mike about the worst day you'd had in a while.
"i fell off the front steps after you and abby left this morning. but it was okay" you started, "i laughed, realized i scraped by knees and had to change my pants but that was okay." mike nodded along and listened, rubbing your side as you spoke. "but then i got a flat tire on my way to work." you continued, sighing as you felt the emotions building up again. "that was fine, it took me a while to get it fixed but i mananged and that was taken care of with no problems. but i was late, and usually my boss would let that kind of thing slide, but we had some hire ups there to oversee us and when one of them called me out for not being "better prepared", instead of changing the subject or at the very least, defending me after everything i've done for him, he agreed! then she basically told him that i should either be fired or have my paycheck cut." you finished with a huff and let the fresh tears that had built up in your eyes fall down your face.
mike felt a pang of hurt in his chest as he heard you recount the unfortunate events of your day. you didn't deserve to go through all of that. "why didn't you call me?" he asked, brushing the tears away from your face and attempting to flatten the hairs that had become out of place.
your hands came up to cover your face as you let out a sob. "i forgot to charge my phone!" you cried, earning a soft aww honey from mike as he kissed your temple, allowing for you to let your feelings out. after a minute of you gasping for air through your cries and furiously wiping away tears that just kept coming, you started to relax. you sighed and turned your head to your partner.
"i'm sorry you had to see me like this, how was your day?" you asked, still sniffling. mike shook his head and scoffed a laugh, even in the middle of a breakdown, you still want to talk about him.
"no don't worry about me, it was fine." he said, "how can i help you?"
you shrugged, looking down and beginning to play with mikes fingers where his hand now rested on your stomach.
"come on" he insisted, "you always help me when i'm having a bad way and i want to help you now. do you want a snack? do you want to watch a movie, or go for a drive? anything you want, i'll do it for you."
you let out a small laugh at mike's dedication, causing him to squeeze your side. "i'm serious!"
you looked back up and into his eyes, cracking a small smile. "maybe a movie." you said quietly.
"okay, i can do that." mike spoke, starting to get up from his seat on the bed until he was stopped by your hand on his arm.
"but first can you just hold me for a bit. please?" mike looked down at you with a kind of softness that he ever only reserved for you.
"yeah, i can do that too."
the end ☆
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starrystevie · 4 months
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"what's that?" dustin asks one night, eyes zeroed in on steve's chest.
confused, he glances down to where his button up has opened a bit at the neckline, not seeing anything on his skin other than the chain around his neck and bits of chest hair.
"what's what, henderson?"
the chain is simple silver, and at the bottom hidden under his shirt is a ring. he was gifted one of eddie's when they made whatever they were official. eddie let him pick, let steve trail his fingers feather light over his hands and over heavy silver until he found one he liked.
"you gonna pick one in this century?" eddie teased, looking up at him from under his lashes, smirking in the way that gives steve butterflies.
"this is an important decision," steve murmured out in a low voice, his light touch sending shivers down eddie's spine. "i can't just settle on one."
he ends up with a mood ring, one that eddie swore he only had because he needed something on his otherwise bare hand but steve knows it's because he thought it looked mysterious. sliding it off his finger is easy, placing a kiss on the pale bit of skin left behind is even easier.
it doesn't fit on his finger, not even close. he could barely squeeze it onto his pinkie but even then they had to use strawberry lube to get it off after it gets stuck.
"you don't have to wear it," eddie said, defeated with his big brown eyes breaking steve's heart into pieces.
but the thing is, steve is a little more than head over heels for him. he'd do anything to make eddie happy, make him feel loved, and being offered a ring in the first place had him feeling like he could fly. he wanted to show it off, flaunt it around like it was more than a mood ring because it was.
just because his fingers were too big didn't mean he couldn't keep the ring on him at all times. which is how he ended up with it on the simple silver chain around his neck.
the night he showed eddie for the first time, crawling up the bed shirtless to push him into the pillows with a searing kiss, was a night he wouldn't soon forget. eddie stared up at him with something that looked like love dancing behind his eyes as the ring dangled between them, glinting in the moonlight coming in through the bedroom window.
"you're wearing it?" eddie's voice was soft, reverent, as he took a hand up to cover the ring with his hand, pushing it into steve's chest right above his heart. he bent down to give eddie another kiss, relishing in the quick bite of pain that comes from the pressure of him pushing the metal into his chest.
"of course i'm wearing it, babe," steve said against his lips with a smile. "not gonna be able to get me to take it off now."
true to his word, steve never takes it off unless absolutely necessary. he wears it in his sleep, when he slides in behind eddie and curls around him. he wears it to work under his shirts, the metal warm against his skin as it thumps along with his heartbeat. he wears it around the house, when they go out on dates, when he showers. he wears it when he knows eddie will see the outline of it peeking through a tight shirt, driving him crazy.
it becomes habit for eddie to find it, fiddle with it over steve's clothes while they watch tv on the couch. they'll be pressed up against each other, limbs entwined, with his hand directly over the ring, rising and falling with every breath steve takes.
wearing it at all times, however, seems to be causing a bit of a problem. one that even dustin can see.
"don't be obtuse," he tuts as if he was chastising a child, "who gave you a bruise on your chest?"
"what are you talking about, i don't have a bruise on my-"
steve rolls his eyes and goes to the bathroom, flicking on the overhead light and pushing his chest out to get as close the mirror as possible. sure enough, sitting right above his heart, is a barely there bruise. it's a little green, a little brown, but definitely there.
there's something to be said about having eddie bruised above his heart. something to be said about having the indent of his ring pressed into his skin where he's the most vulnerable. the place where he had to learn how to take his armor off to let eddie see in the first place.
steve looks between the bruise and his face, back and forth and back again and watches as his smile grows wide, grows soft around the edges, grows into something that is vaguely eddie shaped which somehow makes it grow even softer.
he can hear eddie get home, the front door slamming as he shouts a too loud welcome to dustin and drops his toolbox onto the floor. his heart thuds a little bit like it always does when he realizes eddie is nearby, and he thinks if he could look close enough, he'd see his eddie shaped bruise jump along with it.
carefully, steve strokes his fingers over the discoloration, presses down just enough to feel it zing through his nerves like the lightning that eddie himself is. he watches as the skin turns pale before blooming back to life again.
steve thinks there's something there that he can't put his finger on. something thrumming through his veins that he can't give a name to.
"baby, you've got to come see this!" he yells into the living room.
something that he has all the time in the world with eddie to eventually figure out.
crossposted on twitter here
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hydrobunny · 11 months
Text
meet me in the pouring rain
Tumblr media
tags: comfort, established relationship, aftermath of fights, happy ending!!!!!
obviously, you two had your fights. it would be stupid to think you didn't: stupid to assume the two of you were constantly perfect.
you curl up by the door of your bedroom, trying to stop yourself from crying.
you hated this. you hated how you had expected anything different. of course sae itoshi would choose football over you. it was what he had been doing for his entire life.
but why had you thought today would be something different? just because it was your birthday?
you had asked him if you two were doing anything so excitedly, so stupidly. he had looked at you with the blankest expression you had seen.
and of course when you tried to press the matter, he had snapped at you that he was busy- to not bother him before practice.
and the words had spewed out of your mouth, telling him to get on with it and get out of the house.
sae hadn't argued further, merely blinking at you in vague confusion before slamming the door behind him.
he hadn't returned for lunch. and with the sheer amount of rain outside, you knew he couldn't be practicing still. (well, you mused, there was a slight chance.)
but that meant he had to be taking shelter somewhere away from your home, somewhere with other people.
lightning crackled outside. the rain was really coming on in droves now. you curl further into a ball and listen to your own heartbeat, steady and calming.
the notification sound of your phone was a scare, and you flinch, hard. you look around for the source of the noise. the dings continue on and on.
when you finally find your phone, you're stunned to see the contact sae <33
the messages are a clear change from his usual short ones, practically an entire chain of frantic words. it's a drastic change compared to the dead silence he's been giving you today.
y/n
fuck i'm sorry
i didn't mean what i did in the morning
i forgot the date i'm so sorry
y/n?
i'm outside. you don't have to come if you don't want to. i'll stay.
you stare at that last message. sae was-
you run to her window, heart rate rising. you can barely see past the sheer amount of rain slamming down.
but sae was there. you can make out his vague form, the rain unforgivably landing on top of his head.
you almost fall down the stairs with how fast you run down. you skid to a stop in front of the door.
your hand turns on the knob.
“sae,” you breathe out.
sae looks at you with a bouquet of soaked roses and a small box, looking more like a drowned rat than the boyfriend you knew.
“you're going to get sick,” you sputter. “what were you-”
“i love you,” sae interrupts, eyes glowing with an intensity unfamiliar to you.
you've only seen that look on the field, when he's truly concentrating.
"i'm so fucking sorry," he continues. "i need you to know that you are my first priority. i know i don't act like it- but you're the best thing that's happened to me."
your mouth hangs open, your voice weak. "come inside."
he does. you gently take the roses from him and place them on the table. he pockets the box, and you don't question him.
sae waits patiently for you to speak.
"i'm sorry too," you finally say. "i shouldn't have-"
he grabs onto your hands, squeezing reassuringly. "don't apologize. im the one who forgot. it's not-it'll never be your fault."
you swallow. "i love you. but you should really go change-"
"before that," sae digs back into his pocket and pulls out the neatly wrapped box. "here."
the wrapping paper gives easily underneath your nails. you eye the box warily. it's clearly jewelry, so you crack the thing open-
"jesus christ-" you fumble the box.
sae catches it easily, raising one eyebrow.
"you got a ring?"
"it's not what you think it is." he hums, gently taking the ring out of the box. it's a pretty little thing, all delicate and fragile looking. "my proposal wouldn't be this tacky."
you stare at him. "so the ring is..."
"a promise," he answers as he slides it carefully onto your finger. "for a better one eventually."
the blood rushes to your face immediately. sae doesn't seem phased at all, even if he's just confessed that he's going to marry you.
"i-"
sae sneezes. once, and then twice.
you grab his arm. "okay. you are getting into some warm clothes."
he frowns, but follows you up the stairs anyway.
when the two of you reach the bedroom, you stop him by the door.
"you know, i only wanted two words."
his head tilts almost imperceptibly, confusion leaking-
sae smiles. "happy birthday."
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zyafics · 15 days
Text
play fake | part seven
series play fake — ( masterlist )
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
summary when rafe cameron needs to secure a gf in order for his father to see him as a stable man, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.
content 18+, eventual smut, angst, fake-dating, jealousy, people-pleasing and independent! female reader, ward cameron pinning rafe and sarah against each other, rafe being an asshole
𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚
It's easy for you to pretend everything's fine.
You've been worried about the whole Aaron situation for the past week, but you couldn't let that be known. You were handling it—best you could—but, at least, it sets your priorities a bit straighter. You realize whatever the outcome is, you need Rafe to get this job.
So, you were going to play the hell out of the girlfriend role.
To get ready, Rafe picks you up from Sailor to take you to Tannyhill. This time, when you got into the car, it was met with complete silence.
"Hey," you greet, to which Rafe says nothing as he reverses out of the lot and returns to the road. You remember that Rafe doesn't function normally whenever he has these types of events. He's probably nervous about the upcoming gala, a need to impress his father once more and prove to Ward that he's capable. You don't hold it against him. "Okay, then."
You settle back against the leather seat. You weren't going to let him ruin your performance; the curated mood you set up for tonight. You were going to hold out till the gala was over.
Rafe glances over to you once he knows you're looking away. Your chin tucked in your palm as you watch the scenery outside the window. Something pinch in his chest.
His right hand slides over your thigh, exposed from your short work attire, and the warm touch surprises you. You turn back to the blond, tilting your head with a small smile. "Ready to talk to me?"
"Don't push it."
You laugh and the tension in his shoulders loosens. The sound always feels like a constant mark of normalcy.
"Who's watching your sisters tonight?"
"Huh?" You respond, the question caught you off-guard and you wonder if you misheard him. "Oh. Oh. I got a babysitter for them. They should be fine till tomorrow."
He nods, knowing he shouldn’t have asked but having done it anyway. "You could've let them stay at Tannyhill. I have people to watch them for free."
He pauses, holding his breath as he waits for your response. Very few people get this offer and the fear of rejection hangs over him.
"Nice try, darling," you tease, falling back to a sense of comfort, "but I'm fine. I got it figured out."
He‘s not surprised by your answer, but it annoys him nonetheless.
When you reach Tannyhill, you didn't bother to wait for Rafe to give you the boyfriend experience. You knew he wouldn't. Instead, you went ahead and opened the car door yourself, heading straight for the porch.
Rafe was just about to cross over to the passenger side.
Following suit, he unlocks the front door and grants you entry. You step inside, reveling in the details of the estate. Despite only being here a few times, you can recall the key pieces of the house—the crystal chandelier with dangling pendants, the cabinets of beautiful collector items from the Bahamas, the flowery display that Rose curates in her free time. You immediately check off all their placement in your head, strolling over to the staircase to ascend.
"Know your way around my house, huh?" Rafe taunts, sticking his hands in his pockets. You glance over your shoulders with an easy grin.
"Just trying to take notes for the next Mrs. Cameron. Don't worry, it's not for me." You wink, turning back around before you notice the way his smile falls flat.
Reaching Rafe's bedroom, you step into the familiar space and eyed it with suspicion. From social media, you saw that Rafe went to a party right after hooking up with you the other day. You will never admit it to him but you wanted to catch if there's any evidence of another woman.
But instead of finding a pair of panties on the floor, you find the red tulips sitting on his desk. Your guards lower.
After he gifted them to you, you cut off the ends and put it in a glass vase in hopes of rejuvenating the flowers. It worked. You nearly forgot about it since you haven't visited since that day, but you were surprised he kept it after all this time.
You turn around to Rafe once he enters. "You like tulips now?" You tease, to which he glances over to the bouquet.
"I forgot to throw them away."
"Sure." You hum, partially unconvinced but deciding not to take any deeper meaning to it. He probably did. "Well, I'm going to go get ready."
You head into the ensuite, dropping your bags on the floor. As you change into your dress, curl your hair, and put on your makeup, you realize you forgot your lipstick.
Searching through your bag and throwing out used brushes into the sink, leaving a powdered mess, you still couldn't find it anywhere. You frown, "dammit."
Your attire feels incomplete without it, but you're not going to cry over this miscalculation. Stepping out, you find Rafe, fitted with his tailored black suit, sitting at his desk and reading a file in his hands. His concentration breaks when he hears you exit. 
His eyes scan over your figure and, while he knows he's already seen you in this before, it does nothing to minimize how captivating you truly look in the dress. The dress he bought. "You look amazing," he murmurs, causing heat to rise to your cheeks.
"Thank you." You say with a laugh, uncomfortable at the way his attention is set on you. You need to expel it. "Unfortunately, I don't have any lipstick on. I probably left it at home."
"You mean this?" He picks something off his counter and holds it out to you and, lo and behold, it was your lipstick.
"Where'd you get that?"
"You left it here," he declares, lifting to his feet and approaching you with it. "The maids were going to throw it away but I assumed that..." He trails off, his eyes finding yours.
"That I wouldn't be able to afford another one?" You supply with a forced smile, knowing it squeezes your chest at how Rafe sees you. A Pogue who can't afford many luxuries. "Don't worry, Kook, it's like seven dollars, I would've bought another one."
That wasn't what he meant.
He remembered that you didn't let him buy you another one so he figured you wouldn't allow him to replace it either. But, he didn't know how to say that without coming off pathetic.
Instead, he returned it to its rightful owner.
Grateful, you take it out of his hand and begin to apply it right there. He watches you as you do, the freshness of plump lips replaced with a coat of red. "How'd I look?"
Kissable. Rafe swallows hard, tearing his eyes away and finding the empty space around your neck.
"Where's your necklace?"
You twist the cap back on the lipstick, tipping your head to the bathroom. "In there. I was going to put it on later."
"Let me put it on for you."
You blink up at him from the sudden offer. "You want to?"
He shrugs. He feels like he's playing a silent dance with you, hoping you’ll take the next step.
A small smile curls on your scarlet-stained lips and a flutter of butterflies release in your stomach. "Okay, come on," you take his hand, pulling him in front of the sink where you left your brushes, "don't worry about that, I'll clean it later."
Rafe honestly didn't mind. He likes the idea of you making a mess in his bathroom, the counter littered with your things. It shows that you were here. "Make sure to make it spotless. I don't want to see this shit tomorrow."
You roll your eyes and pull out the small box wrapped with a golden ribbon. "Yes, darling," you say with a mock, "would never want to disappoint the Kook prince."
He's used to feeling pride in being from Figure Eight, but something about the way you use Kook makes him wish he wasn't.
You take out the necklace from the box, internally reprimanding yourself at how expensive the piece is—knowing how it could be well-spent paying back Aaron—before handing it over to Rafe.
He places it over your neckline, pushing your styled hair to the side for full exposure. You watch him through the mirror, his concentration pinned on clasping the small hole.
"What were you working on?" You ask, filling in the silence as you refer to the file.
"A case for my dad." He explains, frustration slowly building in him because the hook won't puncture through the complicated loop. "He wants to close this deal tonight with one of his partners but they're refusing to budge."
You nod just as you hear him release a swear under his breath, his brows crinkled together and his patience thinning. You know the look. "It's okay," you comfort with a gentle tone, "take your time. It's not going anywhere."
It won't slip through. "I should've gotten you another necklace."
"I guess someone should've listened to me." You tease with a chuckle. Rafe flicks his gaze to meet yours in the reflection, watching your smile, no judgment in sight. His shoulders slacken a bit. "I guess it proves that you should always listen to your girlfriend. What's that saying? Happy wife, happy life?"
"We're not fucking married." He announces bluntly without much thought, his focus too wrapped up on the stupid chain. Your smile falters. Right, you got too carried away in your role. He clasps the ends together. "Finally."
You nod your head in gratitude as you silently slip out of the bathroom once again, making your way to the dresser where you left your purse. Your eyes gloss over the opened file on the desk and you stop in your tracks.
"Wait, I know him." You point to the paperwork, glancing over your shoulders to find Rafe. "He's that guy that owns the hotel chains for the tourists. The one who just bought up all that land near the marsh."
Rafe nods, picking it up. "Yeah. Cameron Development wants it but he handed the negotiation off to his daughter. She doesn't wanna talk and plans on proceeding with the original blueprint."
"But that doesn't make sense." You frown, plucking the case out of his hand. You look through the information. He lets you. "That land isn't a good location for a hotel. It's too close to the wilderness protection area for endangered species. They're going to get hell from the FWS."
Rafe stares back at your assessment. "What?"
"Look," you point to the map where he highlighted where the land is going to be used. "This is where the marsh is. This is where the hotel is going to be built. If you use that land, you'll disrupt the ecosystem and it's going to fuck you over later by the government."
He shakes his head, disagreeing. "We planned ahead for that."
"No. You only minimize it. You're going to cut off a main water source. It'll dry out the fishes and marines. You may be able to hold off the feds for a couple of years but I'm willing to bet it won't last longer than five. Max."
He's watching you, the way your brows knit together and your lips purse as you examine the case. "How do you know all that?"
"I work on the docks," you shrug, giving back the file to Rafe. "Heyward has been talking about how some Kook hotel magnate is planning on restricting a part of the marsh where they make their living. It's worrying them."
Rafe says nothing, glancing back down to the papers. "Well, Cameron Development was planning on using it for residential housing."
You shake your head, settling on the end of his mattress. It's so soft, unlike the one you have back home. "I wouldn't suggest that either."
He knows he shouldn't be taking suggestions from a bartender, but something in the way you held your ground makes him consider otherwise. "Why not?"
"Other than disrupting people’s livelihood? You don't want an alligator to end up on someone's back porch and they can't shoot it because it's part of the endangered species list. The lawsuits would be a nightmare."
What you don't explain to him is that you learned a lot of this because of what your parents drilled in you. They discussed local politics often. They believed it's important to have an understanding about your community and to know when certain corporations or people are about to harm it. That's what Kooks often forget.
"I mean, do what you want but that's my honest opinion." You conclude with a shrug. At the end of the day, it’s not your business.
Rafe watches as you lay back against his bed with a sigh. Your dress riding up; the high slit revealing more of your skin.
He has nothing else to say to that—to you—because, in some ways, you're right. You come in here and break down a problem he spent the past three days trying to figure out. It's maddening how incredible you are.
He throws the case onto the desk. His focus now pinned on you as his knees sink to the space beside your hips and he hovers over you, strong arms pressed next to your head.
"You're pretty smart then, huh?" He goads, his eyes scanning over your face. The necklace tangled with his initials. How you look under him.
You grin. "I told you. I'm not just a Pogue with no brains."
You're referring to his insult at the bar, the insulating that you weren't smart enough because you were from The Cut. He couldn't believe you remembered that.
He should apologize.
No one taught him how.
He changes the subject. "So why is someone like you, who clearly has a knack for these types of things, running a rundown bar in the middle of the docks?"
Rafe doesn't recognize your smile slipping off, just slightly. You don't immediately answer him. Your hand raises to cup the side of his profile.
"Are we going to keep discussing business or are you going to kiss me?" You challenge, because that's the best way to avoid these types of conversations with Rafe.
He scoffs. The way you tease him sends a shot of arousal down his spine. "Who said anything about wanting to kiss you?"
You tilt your head with a raised brow. "Are you saying I'm wrong? Because I have a faint memory of someone saying I was right about a certain necklace…”
He shakes his head, the corner of his lips raising in a smile. "Never said that."
"Didn't need to," you declare with a wink, "I can read your mind."
"Yeah?" He leans forward, his mouth right beside your ear. "Do you know what I'm thinking of right now?" He lowers his hand to travel up your exposed leg, closer to your aching pussy. Your breath hitch. "That I want to rip this fucking dress off and fuck you right here?"
You wrap both your arms around his shoulders. "Yeah," you play along. "I did."
"And what are you thinking about?" He rasps, his eyes searching your face for any sense of affirmations. That you could possibly want him too.
You merely smile, gently pushing him back and onto the mattress. Changing position, you straddle him. "How about I show you?"
Planting kisses on the edge of his mouth, down to his jaw, to his neck, he tips his head back for you. You feel his erection hardening under his pants, pressed directly against your core. "Feels good, darling?"
Rafe draws his hands up your waist to hold you in place. He wants to kiss you now, desperately, but you avoid his lips as punishment. "A little underwhelmed to be honest, sweetheart."
You giggle, slowly rolling your hips. He groans at the sensation, feeling his cock tightens. "Are you sure?" You say, sucking on the curve of his neck as you hear a small moan leave his lips. The low sound igniting heat in your lower belly. “I think someone wants me.”
"That's enough." He announces, grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you into a hungry kiss. Both your hands slide up his chest for balance and you melt into his touch.
Red lipstick marks are covering Rafe all over, but he didn't fucking care. All he wants is to taste you, feel you, that he would gladly take the mess you give.
His hand lowers to your exposed cut of your dress, pushing the red satin away to gain more access. His knuckles brush against your bare cunt. "No panties?" He asks with shock, his darkened blue eyes finding yours. Your shy smile gives him everything he needs. "Bad girl."
Your expression is innocent. "It ruined the dress."
His fingers graze your wet slit. "I have to buy you more then."
You chuckle, before he finds your clit and rubs broad circles around the swollen nub, and your laugh turns to a shudder. "Th–that was a one-time thing."
"Is it?" He muses, his fingers entering you and a whimper escapes. "I bet I can fuck a yes out of you."
He probably could, with the way he handles you. Knowing your body so intimately, what turns you on, when you're about to come. You couldn't give him that satisfaction, pulling him into another kiss and silencing your response.
Rafe gives in immediately. Your lips part and he sucks on your tongue while his fingers rub you faster, little moans leaving you between kisses. You come on his hand within time.
Weakly pulling yourself off, you start to unbuckle his belt and take off his pants—his hips lifts to assist. When you free his bulge from his boxer-briefs, it stands hard and swollen. "Such a pretty cock," you sigh in awe, stroking your thumb over the bit of precum at the tip. Rafe lets out a groan.
"Are you going to ride me, baby?" He asks thickly, his hand landing on your waist in preparation to help you mount.
"Not right now," you declare with an apologetic smile, his expression falling. "I can't ruin my makeup." You look at your kisses smeared over his fair skin. "Well, more than it is."
His hand doesn't leave your hips. "You can always reapply."
You shake your head, gripping around his base, your fingers barely connecting because of his girth. Rafe's breath grows swallows as you start to pump him. "But I can make you feel better."
He loves the way your hand wraps around him, tight enough for him to feel pleasure with each stroke, and his balls soon tightens. "Just like that, baby," he moans, propping himself back by his elbows as you work on him. "I'm about to come."
You notice, with the way his cock is twitching under your palm, and just as he's about to release his load, you dip your head and cover your mouth over the tip.
"Fuck." He grunts under his breath as you suck him clean, your hand continuing to rub him to empty every drop. When he finishes his high, you pull back, wiping your chin with the back of your hand.
"Didn't want to ruin your clothes." You inform bashfully, standing up from the bed. He wanted to grab your wrist and pull you back beside him but the opportunity was missed.
You go to the bathroom to grab a wet paper towel and return with the intent of washing away all your markings on Rafe. As you settle beside him to wipe away the lipstick, he moves away.
"What if I want to keep one?"
"What?" You shed a small laugh. He can’t be serious. "My lipstick?"
He shrugs. "It shows that we're together."
Oh, right. For a blind, hopeful moment, you thought it was because he actually wanted you. More than just a fake title. No, it was just another shield, another way to demonstrate he's committed.
You silently agree, wiping away most of your kisses until the last one is left. Just right under his collarbone, enough to be seen with a good eye but mostly inconspicuous. "Good?" You ask evenly, to which Rafe glances over to the mirror and nods. "Okay, I'm going to fix myself and then we should start heading out."
You put on your facade.
It's easy. You just pretend you're someone else—not a lowly bartender from The Cut making ends meet but someone dignified and deserving. You play into the role of being Rafe Cameron's girlfriend with that mentality.
The gala is hosted downtown, at a large five-starred hotel with a massive ballroom. When you enter through the double doors, opened by a pair of waitstaff, you stare in admiration at the exquisiteness at the place. Rafe catches your expression.
“Close your mouth. You’re acting like you've never been to a gala before."
"I haven't." You snap back lowly, before remembering you're in public. You shift your tone to be more friendly. "I mean, this is my first time here."
Rafe's taken aback by your compliance. He knows he should appreciate it, because you always fight back against him on everything, but the achievement feels hollow and disingenuous.
The two of you fall into steps with the room, greeting familiar faces. When Rafe ends up in a conversation with a group of Cameron Development's business partners, you were casted aside in the role of obedient housewife—where the women socialize while the men talked shop—and you didn't like that.
With a gentle hand on Rafe's shoulder, you subtly interject yourself into the discussion.
"Y'know, Rafe's pretty good at that." You praise, causing the eyes of the older men to fall on you. Your fake boyfriend stiffens under your palm, his gaze set on your profile to understand what you're trying to do. "I saw the way he works those cases. He's dedicated and efficient. Business deals are meant to be made with a keen eye and deep considerations. Rafe always does that."
They fall silent for a few moments, watching you with amusement, before a man with a scuffed beard opens his mouth. "And how would you know anything about it? Aren't you a bartender?"
Rafe's jaw tightens at the way those men address you, with such a superiority complex. It reminds him of when he first met you. But, like then, you didn't let them bother you. "Yes and I'm also the sole owner of Sailor. I've been running it by myself since I was eighteen, which has had an average increase of 1.1% profit margins every year since. I know what I'm talking about."
Rafe stares at you, slack-jawed. He didn't know that. The group of men held similar expressions, filled with embarrassment at their misperception of you. "And, if I remember correctly, you had a construction plan for a new shopping center downtown, right? Instead of contracting with Cameron Development and utilizing local labor from the Banks—which Rafe suggested—you wanted to import mainland workers. How did that work out for you?"
You heard Rafe on the phone once, talking about a shopping center being built, with an intended budget of thirteen millions, wanting to cut corners. They didn't listen to Rafe with his recommendations, pinned him as too young and inexperienced to know better, that it ended up costing them twenty-one millions. It's still yet to be finished.
Scuffed Beard shifts uncomfortably under your scrutiny, his eyes flickering amongst his peers with humiliation. You smile sweetly. "I'm not saying this as a critique on your character, sir, I'm sure you're an incredible businessman." You declare, coaxing him with compliments so he wouldn't hold bitter resentment against the Camerons. "But, your organization has an aging board committee. You might want to consider a fresh perspective on things." You glance over to Rafe, in a subtle gesture. "It might even save you millions."
A woman's hand settles on your waist and draws your attention away to say something. When you turn back to Rafe, you present a loving smile, so bright and natural. If he was anyone else, he would've believed that you adored him, but he knows it's a mere disguise.
"I'm going to go mingle, darling, have fun." You raise to your tippy-toes and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. It leaves a faint lipstick stain but you figure it would help him sell his committed act.
Turning your heels, you leave and continue your (fake) girlfriend duties. Rafe watches until you disappear into the crowd and only then does his attention return back to the quieted group of boisterous men who once didn't view him as competent. Their gaze shifts to his, waiting.
"You were saying?" One of them offers, reminding him of an idea Rafe was talking about before you came in—one they were rejecting—and a concealed smirk rises to his lips.
The rest of the night is spent talking and establishing relationships. An orchestra plays in the background while the men gather around, discussing their partnerships. You rarely saw Rafe, except in the passing, and each time his eyes lingered over to your direction, you gave him an affectionate smile, your fingers waving fondly over the separated distance.
All for show.
In the middle of a conversation with a group of Ward's partners, which were talking about golf tournaments and fickle deals, he pardons himself and strolls over to you. You were in the middle of talking to a group of women, hyping up Rafe's reputation as a successful underdog, knowing that, while the women may be casted as gossips, they are also direct access to their husbands' ears.
His hand slides under your waist. "Excuse us." Rafe nods to the housewives, before pulling you away.
"What happened?" You ask quietly, searching his face. "Is there a problem?"
"No, everything's fine." He shakes his head. Something about it warms his heart, but he can't help but wonder if this is the continued act you've been putting on the entire night. "I just... I needed a break."
You nod. "That's fine. It's good to take a breath once in a while. I know it can be overwhelming."
His jaw flexes. Something about your saccharine mood this entire evening feels off. The way you were complimenting him earlier with the business partners feels dishonest. "Stop it."
Your brows furrow together at his sharp tone. "What? What did I do wrong?"
"That." He gestures to you as a whole. "The concern. That pretend. I wanna hear my girl, not the bullshit you've been putting up for everyone else."
You blink in surprise. You can't even fully appreciate him referring to you as his before scoffing at his audacity. "Seriously? You're mad because I'm being too nice? Would you rather I give you an attitude every time you open your mouth?"
He smirks, satisfied. "There you are."
You can't help but roll your eyes. "I can't with you. When I snap at you, you get pissed off, but when I'm nice, you're pissed off. You can't be pleased, Rafe Cameron."
He doesn't understand it either, but he loves the fire behind your eyes when you talk back and he loves the way his name rolls off your tongue. Perhaps, it's something about who you reveal yourself to. How much. The idea that he gets the other side of you—one where no one gets often—that's what he likes. It doesn't matter if it's your attitude or bitter remarks. It's different. Because it feels completely his.
"Yeah." He nods, cupping your cheeks with one hand, running the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. "What can I say? I love this mouth. Reminds me of when I need to punish it."
You playfully shove him off but you can't ignore the knot twisting in your stomach. Your mind wanders to earlier, when you were giving him a handjob and swallowed his cum. It causes you to rub your thighs together.
Rafe recognizes that look. He wants to rile you further, maybe drag you off to a secluded area and fuck you—but he hears his name being called from behind and he looks up to see his father approaching. His spine straightens, his shoulders tense up.
"Rafe." Ward greets, glancing over to you with an acknowledged nod. "He has just arrived. I need you to convince him to settle on a deal before we lose that land. You're the only one I can trust with this."
He's a bit annoyed that his father interrupted his limited time with you but with the ounce of approval he's giving—telling Rafe he's the only person he can rely on, the one he wants to close the case—he can't help but submit.
When Ward leaves, Rafe looks back at you, his expression is vulnerable for a moment. His father is depending on him and the pressure is kicking in. He wants to ask you to come with him, for moral support, but he doesn't know how to word it without sounding inadequate—like he needs you there to succeed. So, he settles on his silence.
You return to the housewives but, this time, you remain closer to Rafe. You saw the look on his face and, while you wonder if you're overthinking, you wanted to stay nearby.
After his negotiation to the hotel Kook, the man considers his proposal. He tells Rafe that he needs a moment with his company to discuss before making a final decision. Once he left, Rafe releases a heavy sigh, searching for his father when a figure among the crowd makes him stop. Sarah.
What the fuck is she doing here? He has never once seen her attend any of Cameron Development's events, claiming them to be too meticulous and boring. Yet, here she is, wearing a formal dress and heading directly to their father.
Ward greets her with a beam of pride, his arm wraps around his eldest daughter and introduces her to his partners. Sarah reciprocates, waving and nodding along. Rafe could only hear the sound of his own blood boiling.
When his sister goes off somewhere, Rafe makes a direct beeline to his father. He pulls the patriarch aside. "What the hell is Sarah doing here?"
Ward knows the look in his son's eyes. "Calm down—"
"Calm down?" He echoes, incredulous. He hates that phrase. His darkened eyes stare down at his father. "What does that even mean? What's going on? Are you—" He couldn't utter the next words, his anger reaching its peak.
"Rafe, listen. Sarah, she's been out for a couple of months—"
"Yeah, because she fucking ran away."
"Language." Ward's command is sharp, causing his son to fall silent. "That's your sister. She's coming home and I'm trying to make her feel more comfortable."
"Comfortable?" He repeats with an indignant scoff. When Rafe was at his all-time low with his coke addiction, his father kicked him out of the house for weeks. But when Sarah abandons Tannyhill for months, doing god-knows-what with her boyfriend, Ward welcomes her back with open arms.
It isn't fucking fair.
"Does this mean..." Rafe couldn't finish the sentence. He doesn't know if he wants to know. All he feels is this intensifying frustration at the way his father could always accept his perfect daughter but criticizes him at every little mistake. Never good. Never enough.
Ward answers him anyway.
"Yes, I'm still considering her for the company."
He doesn't respond to that. He stares at his father with nothing more than pure, unbridled anger. Anger and rage. Rage and jealousy. Jealousy and hurt.
Ward tries to place a comforting hand on his shoulders, but the eldest son shoves him off. He turns, exiting from the ballroom.
You follow him.
"Rafe. Rafe. Rafe!" You chase after him, breaking into a mini-sprint as your heels click against the marble-floored lounge, before your hand catches his elbow. Your eyes search his hardened face. "Talk to me."
He pushes you away too. "I hate him."
"What?" You blink through the confusion. "What happened?"
"He always picks—" He cuts himself off, his eyes growing teary and he doesn't want you to see. "Fuck."
Someone walks by and Rafe tries to turn away, not wanting to be seen as weak by any passing stranger. You pay a glance to the oblivious man cruising by, before taking Rafe's arm and pulling him to the nearest empty space: a bathroom.
When the door locks, you face the blond. Your tone gentle, your approach cautious. "What's going on? Are you okay?"
"Okay?" He scoffs at your concern. He doesn't feel anywhere near okay. "What the fuck do you think?"
You frown, but you know this is always the first step. His anger always targets you first. "I want you to tell me."
Rafe locks his jaw, frustrated at the way you're being too kind while he's nothing but filled with rage. He doesn't deserve it. "My sister is back and you're asking me if I'm okay? Are you stupid?"
You cross your arms over your chest. Not out of anger, more out of protection. "I'm not part of your family, Rafe, I don't know why that matters. You're being mean and I'm just trying to help."
"Help?" He repeats, disbelief dripping from his tone. "Like you were helping me with my conversations? Talking me up? Making me sound like I was good?"
He's on the brink of a breakdown and you can't seem to understand him. Why is he making it sound like it was a bad thing? "I am. I'm trying to help you."
"You're just lying!" He accuses, his voice cracking from the intensity, stepping back. Like he couldn't trust you. Like you hurt him. "You say some shit, making me feel like you want me, and then you go off and do other shit that proves you don't."
You're not quite sure he's talking about you anymore. It's something more. It doesn't take a lot to figure out who.
You approach him calmly. "Is that what Ward is doing to you?"
Rafe doesn't answer you, staring back glassy-eyed with choked breaths. He's hurt. He feels unwanted. He can't explain it. Sarah returning home, to open arms, confirms something he’s always trying to push away. It means that his life will be more difficult; his goal of getting the family company more challenging. Because he knows, he will always be the second choice to the golden child.
And if you have that, who the fuck needs Rafe Cameron?
"You... you are good." You begin slowly, watching the way he shakes his head in doubt. "I told them the truth. You're an incredible businessman and you care about your company. I saw it at the country club's dinner, I saw it when we were getting ready and I see it now. What's the problem with me letting other people know?"
His insecurities are suffocating him. "You don't believe that."
"I do." You affirm with a nod, stepping closer to him. "I don't lie about that stuff. I admire it, that's why I remember."
His breath is cut short at your admission. Several beats take place before he speaks again. “You admired me?"
You laugh, the melodic resonance making everything feels better, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders while he leans against the sink. "Don't let it get to your head," you warn with a soft smile. "But, yeah. It reminds me of me; how much you care about your family's business."
Rafe doesn't say anything, his broken gaze finding yours. They trace over your features, trying to read any sense of insincerity in them, only to find none.
"Your family's business?" He prompts quietly, using this opportunity to gateway into learning more about you. To let him in—that’s how you earn his trust. You falter.
"Yeah." You admit weakly. Every bone in your body is screaming at you to remain silent, to keep him out, but you can't help but continue forth. "I inherited it after my parents' passed away in an accident."
His eyes widen, at you revealing this glimpse into your past. Discomfort settles in your stomach, at letting another person in, but you can't help the way your chest lightens ever-so-slightly.
You don't want to deal with it.
Leaning forward, you press a soft kiss on his lips. Tender and warm, Rafe's hands immediately draw up to capture your waist before reciprocating the touch. It turns hungry, passionate, and when you pull away, breathless, you flick your gaze up to him.
"Want to know something else?" You ask in a whisper. "I haven't stopped thinking about your cock all night."
Rafe feels himself hardening at your confession. You have that effect on him now. “Yeah?”
You nod with a timid smile, playing with the buckle of his belt. “Can I blow you?”
He couldn’t say no to that.
Unbuckling his pants, you remove them within seconds. The corner of his lips quirks into a smirk. “Eager, are we?”
“I told you.” You say as you pull down his boxer-briefs, his cock springing free as your hand immediately wraps around the length, stroking slowly. “I want you in my mouth.”
Rafe can’t begin to express how it makes him feel hearing you say those words, your attention set on getting him as hard as possible.
Instead, he removes his blazer and sets it on the floor.
Your smile grows. “Didn’t know you would throw away good money like that,” you tease, glancing at the jacket that is probably worth more than your entire closet. “Thought Kooks have to take care of their things.”
“I am.”
The knot in your stomach tightens. You know you shouldn't like the possession behind Rafe's voice but you rub your thighs together to satiate the feeling. He notices, his arrogance grows tenfold. "Does my girl like that? Does she like knowing I own her?"
Rafe is probing you but there's a sense of comfort in knowing that he has this effect on you. When you quiet down, his words being too real and your hands stopping at the base of his cock, he wonders if he went too far.
Until you whisper, "I like it when you take control."
"Yeah?" He can feel his skin pricking with excitement. "The girl who always has something to say wants me to tell her what to do?"
Your cheeks flush with heat before you nod. "Good. Now, kneel."
You sink to the floor, your satin-covered knees pressed against his jacket to soften the blow of the hard ground. When you align yourself in front of his groin, you dribble a bit of spit over the head before spreading it over his length. Rafe lets out a low moan.
"I like hearing how I make you feel." You sigh fondly. "It lets me know how to please you."
Fuck, Rafe thought to himself, the idea of you getting turn-on by pleasuring him sends all the blood straight to his pelvis. You feel him twitch under your palm.
"And I think you like that too," you observe with a small smile, "you like having me as your own personal slut, don't you?"
He doesn't get to answer before you tilt your gaze up to meet his, taking his cock in your mouth. Rafe lets out a groan, the admission of your words tonight igniting desire all over his body.
The way your eyes connect with his as you slowly take him in, inch by inch, drives him insane. Your hand syncs with your mouth as you cup him, twisting and rubbing.
"Shit," he whimpers, the way you squeeze him feels incredible while your head sinks deeper, causing a small gag to form from the back of your throat. "That feels so good, baby."
The praise goes straight to your core. Your thighs are slick with your own arousal, aching, but you refuse to move till he comes. Your tongue flicks over his length, rolling around his tip.
"You're doing so well." He grunts, his voice thick as his fingers grips at the root of your hair, his climax quickly approaching. "Just like that, I love hearing the way you gag on my cock."
You do it again, louder, this time triggering a guttural moan from him.
Your technique grows more confident as your hands fall to play with his balls, and your head bobs up and down his shaft. When your cheeks hollow to add suction, it doesn't take long before he feels his muscles tightening. He's close.
"Are you going to swallow for me, baby?" Rafe rasps, causing your heavy-lid eyes to find his once again. "I know you can."
You nod. "Yes."
His hot cum shoots to the back of your throat in fast spurts while you take it all. His moans complement his orgasm, riding out with loud praises and noises you can't help but fuel your own desire.
When you swallow all of it, you pull back, his softening cock pops out of your mouth. Your hands settle on the flat of your thighs and you look up to him with doe eyes to ask. "Better?"
Panting, he answers. "Not even close."
He reaches down and hauls you to the sink, making you giggle at the way he handles you. Your ass settles on the granite counter and Rafe wastes no time to pull you to the ledge, pushing your dress up to your hips to reveal your glistening, bare cunt.
"You're this wet from sucking dick?" He teases, massaging your slick inner thighs. You bite your bottom lip, nodding along.
"Just yours."
He loves it. Tonight, you're simply perfect. Saying everything he wants to hear. Everything he needs to feel. He gets hard again, so easy under your influence.
You notice, glancing down to his hardening erection with a teasing smile. "Already?"
He chuckles, capturing you into a kiss. He tastes himself on your lips, the acknowledgement signals a primal urge, while his knuckles brushes against your throbbing clit, causing you to jerk into his hand.
"Rafe." You whimper, breaking from the kiss, your eyes meeting his with desperation. The feeling between your legs growing unbearable by the second. "Please, make me come."
This time, in a bathroom, your plea is met with a different consideration. He smiles before nodding once, lining the crown of his cock against your wet folds. "Only 'cause you ask so nicely."
Rafe pushes in, slow and steady to let you adjust to his girth, while your hands clasps around him for stability, your nails digging into his shoulder blades. Then, his thrusts begin to speed up.
"You like that, baby?" He asks, his free hand rubbing your swollen clit simultaneously to his penetration. You nod vigorously, your eyes closing shut from the pleasure. "Your pussy feels so nice around me."
"Like it was made for you." You supply with a moan.
“That's fucking right. Like it's mine."
His hand raises to the cleavage of your dress, pushing down the satin to reveal your tits. He's never been happier to know you decided not to wear a bra and pinches a pierced nipple between his fingers, causing your head to tip back with a raspy mewl. "Just like these." He adds, knowing the way he's playing with them will make you reach your peak faster. "Fuck, these are my favorite things."
The way he's teasing you, fucking you, feels so good, but you can't help but release a small laugh at his assertion. "Of course they would be, you whore," you say with a wispy smile.
He abandons his play, causing you to let out a small whine, when his hand cups your cheeks, jutting out your pout. "Nah, this mouth is." He closes the distance, kissing you, before drawing out your bottom lip with his teeth. The act is so surprising, you clench around his cock.
It causes a shudder to pass through him.
"God, you feel perfect," he confesses, his thrusts growing less controlled as he's deep inside of you, feeling every little response between your legs. "You should've been mine a long time ago."
The fabric of your dress falls back over to your pussy while Rafe wants nothing more than to watch how he pumps in-and-out of you. The frustration of the cover makes him roughly push back the material against your hips.
"I'm going to rip your fucking dress off."
"Don't you dare." You warn with a weak glare, the pleasure building too strongly for you to feel any genuine hostility.
"Thought you didn't want it?"
"I never said that."
"What is it, then?"
A moan ripples out of you as you lean forward, your lips fall next to the shell of his ear in a whisper. "My boyfriend got it for me."
Fuck, that got him and he spills in you, this time, the motion leaving him more jerkily and unstable than before. Despite the overwhelming sense of pleasure coursing through his body, he isn't finished. Knowing you haven’t came, his fingers fall back down to your clit and begin to rub in tight, fast circles, trying to help you reach your own orgasm.
You do, following quickly after, that he feels your walls clenching around his warming cock. When you ride out your high, you're breathless as he pulls out.
There's silence, and you expect him to get dressed and leave the room, but he surprises you when he focuses on helping you clean up. From wiping away his cum around your thighs, to fixing your hair, and helping you off the counter.
You don't know how to feel from the gesture; your heart clenching from his gentle acts.
Only then does he redress himself, picking up the wrinkled blazer off the ground and throwing it over his shoulders.
"Wait," you reach out, pulling him closer to the sink as you grab a wet paper towel and wipe away all the smudges of your lipstick over his lips. Your voice is soft. "I can't let you go out there looking like that."
He watches you as you work, wiping away any residues clean.
"I don't want to go back out there." He admits quietly. "I just wanna leave. Are you good with that?"
The question came at a surprise. "You're asking for my permission?"
He rolls his eyes at the look on your face, his shoulders relaxing. "Either that or you're going to get pissed at me again for taking you out before you're ready."
You chuckle. "We can leave. I just have to say goodbye to the housewives first."
"Had to get the word out for your bar?"
"Nope." You shake your head, realization striking you that, throughout this entire night, you spent no time thinking about yourself. Your hand lands over the doorknob, and just before you twist to open, you spare a glance over your shoulders at Rafe. "We were talking about you."
You leave first and Rafe's momentarily stunned that you used your one opportunity to talk about him rather than advertise your bar as a catering option for these plentiful Kooks. His chest warms and he soon follows you back to the ballroom where you pay your farewells.
Off on the side, trying to avoid his father, Rafe waits.
When someone taps his shoulder, his jaw clenches, not wanting to face Ward, only to turn and find the hotel magnate standing before him.
"We talked it through." The man declares as you pull away from the final housewife to return to your boyfriend’s side. "You got yourself a deal."
He hands Rafe a card, scribbled with a personal number at the top. The eldest Cameron reaches out to take the small card from him, rejoining their hands in a formal shake.
"Thank you, sir." Rafe expresses, keeping his voice neutral. The man nods.
"You got a good head on your shoulders. Keep it up." He declares, before nodding to you in recognition and leaves.
It takes a few moments for it to register. How it happened. How it worked out. When Rafe turns to you, your elation is too hard to contain, and you tackle him into a hug.
"You did it!" You beam, louder than the normal convention, and catch the attention of the nearby housewives who watch the interaction between the two with awing amusement. As you pull back, your hands clasps around his shoulders. "I'm so proud of you!"
Those words mean a lot to him. Especially now knowing that they're genuine coming from you. He doesn't know how to react, especially with the look on your face, the expression of complete pride from his success. "Really?"
You nod frantically, your cheeks hurting from how big your smile is. "What did you say to him? How did you convince him?"
His fingers mess with the business card in his hands and he shrugs. "I told him what you told me."
You can't believe Rafe listened to you. "So, what are you going to do with the land? Are you still going to build alligator-infested houses?"
He knows you're teasing him but he chuckles anyway. His adrenaline comes down to a neutralized comfort. Safe. He can't help it. Your presence, your words, and your kindness drives something deep in him.
"No." He shakes his head. "We're going to use the difference to invest into the fishing industry on the docks, benefitting from their stock value."
What he's not saying is that your argument held value to him. That his decision to help the Pogues is because of you. But, you take it either way, the announcement bringing a realm of good news for the first time in a long time.
Your chest is overwhelmed with such gratitude, you almost confess something you shouldn't.
"That's good." You settle with a gentle smile, clearing your throat. "I guess this means we can both go home to a satisfying conclusion, huh?"
That was the goal. But now he's not too sure he wants to depart from you this early. Knowing who you truly are—not just putting up a mask and caring about him in public, but genuinely proud of him, supporting him, always in his corner—he doesn't want to separate just yet.
So, he does something out of his comfort zone.
"It's getting late and it'll be a long drive to your house. You should just stay over."
This is the second time he's asking you, holding his breath to see how you would respond, and when your smile softens just a bit, almost in a way to let him down, he thought he got rejected again.
You know you shouldn't. You know this is only going to complicate your personal and professional lives. You know you should go home and place some distance from Rafe, to save you and your heart.
But something in you clench about the offer. It feels too similar to hope.
You nod. "That sounds like another great idea of yours." 
— part eight here —
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0luv9 · 5 months
Text
sugar rose || theodore nott
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Summary: Fool in love, bright like silver, shinning for everyone to see. Life has never been this good for Theo and he'll go out of his way to keep it that way. Or Theodore being utterly and unapologetically in love with you.
Beware: fluff, a bit of smut (which I can't write to save my life), nicknames used (pretty, love), written in second person, no pronouns used, it's just sweet.
I hope this will warm your hearts up a bit, it's a cold winter this year.
Words: 2.1k
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Everyone sees it, Theodore being absolutely smitten by you, it's obvious, he has made sure everyone knows that you are his for the taking. Nott was known to be level headed one in the group, like Blaise, never getting into fights but not doing much to stop them either. Unlike Enzo, who was on the other end of the spectrum from Matheo and Draco, always keeping the group out of conflict because he didn't want to lose the house cup, that is. Everyone knew not to mess with the Slytherins, their pride was always at stake.
You were his girlfriend, everyone knows, no-one knows the consequences of thinking otherwise. They'd rather not, it's quite evident that people loved their peace more than to spit some game over a taken girl. That's how it should be, that's how it'll be.
...
You were sitting in Theo's lap, he was reading you the study material for history of magic, you were quite literally bored but your boyfriend was insistent on studying, he was also insistent on doing it with you, he wouldn't let go of you. The common room was empty, it was lunch time and you didn't feel like eating lunch, since you didn't your boyfriend didn't either, so this is how you were spending your time. He was your yes-man, whatever you ask of him, he'll do it in a heartbeat. Infact, he also does things you just think of, as well as the things you expect him to do, he knows you too well, always compliant to your wishes.
You turn around facing him, he puts down the book the very second you smile at him, all his attention on you. The way you look at him, sitting in his lap, with such love, he can feel his heart race, no matter how long it has been with you, the sugar rush never leaves. Theo can spend an eternity looking at you and still not run out of love, he knows it too well, he's far gone, turned too soft but he doesn't seem to mind because it's you. He doesn't care if his jaw hurts, he'll stay smiling when you are around. He starts his day with you in his mind, ends his day the same, dreams of you through the night and is with you throughout the day. He's content like this, there's nothing else he could ask for, he has everything he wants right in front of his eyes.
He doesn't have control over himself when it comes to you, it's all sweet and honey smooth when you are with him, his eyes always drift to you. He isn't hesitant to show his love for you, in fact he's quite shameless with it. You are shy infront of others though, so he enjoys moments like this, when you are alone with him, not afraid to be openly affectionate. Theo likes it when you say his name, "Theo," you breath out, smiling at him as you fiddle with his uniform's collar, unable to look into his eyes for long letting your gaze falter, he nods at you, encouraging you to continue, holding your nape with his hand making you look at him, thumb holding your chin up. You shake your head, smiling again and let your head bump against his chest, blushing, "I'm just happy, Teddy" your face is hidden in his chest, he holds you close, why is it that you are the shy one but it's his heart doing somersaults? "Me too mi amor, me too."
...
Theodore is not a religious man but when he has you infront of him, he'd gladly sink to his knees, thanking the heavens above for their blessings. He's with you in his dorm room, sitting on the loveseat, you in his lap, trailing kisses down his neck. You pull away, sliding off his lap down to your knees looking up at him with such devotion, he feels like a king, you unbuckle his belt with such eager hands he feels his soul escape, as though it has found it's paradise, ready to leave the land of mere mortals.
You love to tease him, knew how to him rile up and you took advantage of it. You pucker your lips around the tip of his length, not giving in easily, your eyes are full of mischief when you look up at him, "Don't tease," he groaned, hand reaching to fist your hair, you giggle as you pull away making him hiss. "Be kind Bella," his jaw was clenched hard with tension, you decide that it's enough, you always think you can hold back from him, tease him a bit more than the last time but your heart just wants to please him. You take his dick in whole, the warmth of your mouth making his jaw fall slack, the tension lifting from his shoulders as you swirl your tongue around the base, dragging it up slowly. Kissing the tip, then pulling away- letting your hand do the work while you give him a coy look. It was fucking sinful, hellish even, the way you were looking up at him. Theo was not a good man he knew that but there has to be a special place in hell for him after this because fuck, the way he loves you on some days is pure filth, there's nothing pure in his mind, there's only his weak submission to carnal desires.
You work your mouth up and down his length, the tip hitting the back of your throat in a pleasurably painful way. "Merlin-" his eyes were blown off to pitch blacks, it was struggle to take him in fully but the fucked out look in his eyes only motivated you. Gagging and choking on his dick, on your knees for him, it was a sight only he could see, only he could take the pleasure of admiring, he relished in knowing that fact that you were only his. Your beauty was for everyone to see, therefore it was something special in seeing you, pretty like this, lips wrapped around him and tear stained cheeks. He loved you more each second, it was worrisome how much he loved you, it even scared him sometimes, he'd go to any lengths for you, it doesn't matter if the world hates him by the end of it, he'll be happy if it means you'll love him a bit more.
Few minutes later he warns you that he's going to reach his limit, you don't let go, hands, lips, tongue, all pushing him over the edge, soon he's coming undone under your touch, you swallow up his release, pulling away your mouth with a pop. You are looking up at him with cum stained lips, zipping him up then straddling him. "That was pure fucking filth, love," he smiles as he looks at your lips, smearing the spit and cum more with his thumb, then pushing his thumb against your lips making you roll your tongue around him, licking away the remains of him, "the only filth I love."
...
Nott wasn't a fan of herbology but when he learnt that you adored certain flowers, he went out of his way to have them potted in your room, asked the professor ways of keeping the plants evergreen, perfected the charm to keep them blooming 24/7, going against nature just to see you smile.
Sometimes you'd make rings out of them, one for him, one for you, he'd wear them till the stems gave out, even then he'd preserve the flowers between the pages of his diary. Some days you'd make pretty crowns for yourself and others, he loved seeing you smile, the way you'd happily run to Pansy and Daphne during your break placing the crowns on their heads. Even they couldn't resist your charm, matching with you throughout the day, smiling brightly at eachother, it was a different kind of pretty, you being happy with your friends. He liked knowing that you had others loving you yet you came back to him, that you loved him more than you loved anyone else, he took pride knowing that his feelings were reciprocated with the same intensity.
"Everyone," you said out of nowhere, standing in front of him with your hands behind your back but talking to his friends instead, the group only sniggered at Theo's reaction, he was trying to get you to look at him, "I have something to confess," you smirked at them, you were wearing one of your flower crowns today and bright clothes as well, quite opposite to the image of the house you belonged to, standing out, everyone played along humming and urging you to continue, "there's this guy I like, a year above mine," you scrunched your nose up, as your friends gasped, "How scandalous, please continue ," Draco smirked, looking at how you were ignoring Theo who just looked confused, "I thought of asking him out on a date, you know with some poppies and roses, how does that sound?" You ask them shyly, still not looking at Theo who was on his feet now, while the others were sitting on the ground, splayed in different positions, all comfortable and happy. "That sounds awfully romantic, he'll surely appreciate it," Pansy quipped, cooing at your blushing face, the others simply nodding and grinning at her words.
Theo called out your name, finally making you look at him, "What Theo?" You ask him, your voice full of innocence, "what are you talking about?" He looks at his friends who just shrug and laugh while he's standing there all clueless. "You know, just confessing to the love of my life, he really is the best" you brightly smile up at him, "it's me, right? Theo?" He laughed lightly,"Ofcourse not silly," now he was confused, what were you on about and why were his friends hollering on the ground.
His face just scrunched up in confusion, you move closer to him, your shoes against his, smiling up at him, eyes full of love. "It's the guy named, Theodore Nott, do you happen to know him?" You were acting up, while his eyes widened, realising that he was being toyed with, not receiving a response, you pull your hands infront, placing the poppy and rose crown you made on his brown curls, "Happy Valentine's Day to guy I love the mostest" it was corny, cheesy and what not but it was sweetest thing at the same time, you were often shy when it came to public display but here you were, telling the world that he was the guy you loved the most- no, the mostest.
Theo was still awestruck, unable to move, only a smitten look on his, you reached up, placing a soft kiss on his lips. All you guys' friends were cooing and cheering when he bent down to kiss you after recovering from the initial shock, poppies and roses on both of your heads, you smiled against his lips as you pulled him closer. You both had drowned the noises everyone was making in the background, which went from cheering to fake gagging when they realised that the kiss wasn't going to end anytime soon. Theo couldn't care less what Valentine's was, for all it meant that he got another reason to celebrate his love for you, "I love you, the mostest." He repeated your words, meaning each and every word, his forehead resting against yours, there was no place better than this, to have you in his arms for everyone to see, for him to see your pretty smile directed at him, full of love and all things sweet and mushy, his face equally as bright. Kissing you again because he could never get enough of you, his heart beating as though he had just ran miles, warmth taking over his body, he doesn't ever remember asking for a life this happy but he's glad his happiness found him because there's nothing better than exchanging stones for roses or maybe it's just you, the rose petals over his gravel, he doesn't care only if it means that he can have you like this, sweet against his lips for the rest of his life. Finding himself closing his eyes, making a promise to himself, of cherishing and protecting this happiness of his, the one he never wished for, being his only wish now.
...
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biteofcherry · 1 year
Note
Does mafia!Steve's Reader ever get jealous? Maybe there's a businesswoman or mafia related one that Steve has to have meetings with and reader gets jealous?
Nesting
Not an inch away
mafia!Steve Rogers x female reader
warnings for the part below: some angst; soft!dark Steve Rogers; mafia!Steve Rogers; possessive behavior; arranged/forced relationship;
~ * ~
You shouldn't care. You really shouldn't, you tell yourself as you watch Steve open the restaurant door for that other woman to enter.
A woman that looks stunning in a body-clinging white dress and killer heels, not a single thing out of place in her confident persona.
She tilts her head and smiles at Steve, who reciprocates with one of his most charming smiles - one that gets you weak in the knees when he flashes it at you.
He told you he'd be home late because he has boring business meetings to attend to, so you talked your bodyguards slash enablers - Natasha and Yelena - to go to the movies and for some greasy food afterwards.
It's pure coincidence that the spot you picked for your snacking was opposite of a fancy restaurant to which Steve took this woman.
You know plenty of women have successful businesses, but you don't think a mob boss of Steve's caliber would actually do any business with one of them. In a romantic restaurant at that.
Natasha's face is perfectly impassive at the sight, but Yelena cringes as if she feels bad for you for seeing this.
You tell yourself that it shouldn't matter. This whole arrangement, one practically forced upon you after Steve found out about your pregnancy, is one you wanted out of at first, right?
The elegant, shiny ring on your finger, which you grew to love and often looked at with a fond smile, now reminded you of the cage Steve trapped you in. Gold, pretty cage.
With how intense and dotting Steve was, you actually believed the cage could become a warm house, with a faithful, loving husband.
Seemed you were going to become a cliche, instead. A wife to produce heirs to a mafia king, while he fucked around with whomever he desired.
Perhaps you should walk into the restaurant, make a scene, throw a drink in Steve's face. Throw it at that woman's white dress.
But you only clench your hands on the paper bag with takeout you bought to eat at home (your pregnancy is turning you into a bottomless pit). You straighten your back and keep your head up high as you march to the car and get inside, Natasha and Yelena slipping inside soundlessly.
Yelena tries to say something, explain Steve's actions, but you tell her you're not interested.
"I don't care." You announce as coldly as you can, quite proud that your voice doesn't crack with how hurt you feel inside.
At home you devour your food. And some chocolate muffins that you baked in the morning. Each bite as delicious as heavy, your stomach revolting with the bitter jealousy and anger at the thought of what Steve was up to.
Are they having a romantic dinner and smiling at each other across the table? Is he sliding his hand up her thigh and under her dress? Does he make her come silently in front of all the patrons?
Will he take her to a hotel room, or one of his apartments that he owns all around the city, and fuck her into a screaming mess?
Will he fuck her better than he did you last night... yanking a fistful of your hair as he wrecked you into a dripping mess and praised you, A good little wife, taking all of me so well.
Ripping apart another muffin, you decide on your next step. You know running away wouldn't work. For one, you have two guards, who may be friendly, but still were loyal to Steve and what he said triumphed over whatever you wanted.
Secondly, even if you managed to slip out, Steve would find you. And he'd drag you back into the cage and the life he builds with you beside him.
You can't leave the penthouse, but you can make yourself a safe space in one of the free guest rooms.
Since Steve's dipping his dick in other woman's cunt, he doesn't need you sleeping beside him.
You definitely don't want to touch him when he reeks of other woman's perfume. You don't even want to see him.
So after you drag most of your stuff from the main bedroom and hastily put it in the closet in your new room, you close the door. Just in time, because less than ten minutes later the echo of firm footsteps resounds.
You flip a book open, trying to focus on the printed words and not on the way your heart hammers in your chest as you hear Steve's footsteps aiming for the main bedroom.
A vicious part of you hopes that he is a shocked, seeing that you're not there.
Not in the huge bed, naked under soft covers, waiting for your husband lord and master to throw you a crumb of his attention.
The emotionally heaving part of you shudders in sobs at the image of Steve simply not minding that you're not there.
Maybe he's only a little surprised, but brushes it off and simply takes a shower to wash off the remnants of that woman's arousal and his own sweat. Then he'll get into bed and fall asleep sated, uncaring for your state as long as you obediently stayed inside.
You rub at your eyes, cursing the tears away. You shake your head and try once again to focus on the words you're reading.
But then, after a long stretch of silence, footsteps sound through the space. A creaking of door being open. Then another. Slowly moving towards where you are hidden.
Your heart rate increases, fingers trembling against the paper pages of your book.
You take a breath, willing yourself to remain calm and not show Steve how hurt you are. Play it the way mob bosses wives in movies and tv shows do it - cold and indifferent, an armor around you, so nothing can prickle you.
The door to your claimed room opens and Steve stands there in the doorway in all his stormy glory.
He frowns, seeing you sitting stiffly on the bed.
He walks inside. Sleeves of his suit jacket are pushed up, showing his forearms and twirls of tattoos. He braces his hands on his hips and gives you a look that's a combination of concern and blatant anger.
"Can you explain what's the meaning of all this?" Steve's voice is thick and raspy.
You swallow, but shrug nonchalantly as if his heated gaze isn't bothering you.
"I thought it's better to leave the main bedroom, in case you brought your companion home for the night." You say and return your gaze to the book, fighting the urge to wave him away with a dismissive gesture.
"What?" Steve's frown deepens, actual confusion showing on his face.
"I'm not sure your mistress would like seeing me there. Might ruin the mood." You lift your head and sneer at him. "So I simply made it easier for you."
"I have a mistress now?" Steve raises a single brow, remaining calm while everything inside of you was boiling.
You snap your book closed and slam in onto the bedside table. With a little huff you get off the bed and stomp over to Steve.
"No need to lie." You scoff. "I saw you. With her. Didn't know mob business meant taking beautiful women to expensive restaurants."
You push at his chest in anger, but Steve's strong, muscled body doesn't even sway at your outburst. So you push at him again, unsuccessfully, but at least you get to unleash some of your fury.
"Just do me a favor and don't bring any of your whores home once the baby is here. Stay in one of your apartments, or allow me to move into one."
You can't hold off tears anymore and as some pour out, trickling down your cheeks, you clench your hands into fists and slam them against Steve's chest.
Steve's fingers wrap around your wrists, a tight, almost painful hold that keeps your hands bound to his chest.
"You are not going away from me." He declares, a definite order.
His eyes darken, a flash of lethal danger he rarely directed at you.
"In any form." He ads, obviously meaning you switching bedrooms.
Slowly, Steve's face lightens up. Twinkles appear in his eyes and it makes another wave of annoyance surge through you.
He keeps your wrists locked in one of his hands as he uses the other hand to cup your cheek.
"Any moving you're going to do is along with me." He says and tries to lean his forehead against yours, but you pull your head back.
Steve sighs.
"Which is why," he forces you to maintain eye contact with him, "I had a meeting with Camilla. She's a real estate agent who works for me on renovating a house that I bought for us. For our family."
His words make you speechless. A house? Someplace where you'd feel more free and where your kids could run in glee.
Still, you remain suspicious. You want to assume it's just a crafty lie, you're sure Steve's good at those.
"The Infinite is a rather romantic place to talk construction." You narrow your eyes.
Steve chuckles and shakes his head. He lets go of your wrists to wrap both his arms around you, pulling you close to him despite your attempt to squirm away.
"Jealous little bird." He hums and slides one of his hands up to grip the back of your neck.
"In my line of work-" Steve leans closer, his nose tracing the line of your jaw, hot breath tickling your skin making you shiver-
"I manipulate people. Some with threats, some with sugar. And some, like Camilla, with never voiced promise of something they wish for."
Steve's soft snicker puffs across your cheek at your sneer. His lips travel toward your lips. You close your eyes at the intensity of his blue irises and the way your body reacts to the touch of his mouth against yours.
"A restaurant dinner gave her that little spark that will make her work her ass off to grand me all my wishes regarding our house. Even though not once have I even brushed an inch of her body with my fingers."
"It also happens-" the tip of Steve's tongue licks over your bottom lip, his hand starts pulling up the hem of your nightgown- "that I know how to manipulate my wife's body, so she sweats out all that jealousy and anger while she creams on my cock."
Your tiny, needy whimper makes him chuckle in dark victory.
"That what you need, huh?" He grips your buttock and kneads it. "Should I fuck you braindead every day, so that your mind doesn't come up with silly ideas?"
"It wasn't silly." You try to defend your earlier outburst, but it comes out breathy and weak.
"Thinking I could be interested in anyone else when I have your sweet, ripe body at my disposal. Absolutely ridiculous." Steve flashes you a wolfish grin.
He lifts you up suddenly, forcing your arms and legs to wrap around him. His fingers slide from your ass to dip between your thighs as he turns around and walks out of the room.
"You're coming back to our bedroom." He growls a command.
"I'm going to keep you naked and full of cum for the next few days, so it really sinks in that neither of us is stepping away from this marriage. Ever."
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c0eu4 · 5 months
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CL16 | Real orgasm ♡
Summary: Y/n confess to Charles that she doesn't know what true orgasm is. And he shows her what it is.
Warning: oral (f receiving), fluff?
A/N: Hope you'll like it <3
MASTERLIST request are open
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Charles sits down on her sofa, putting his feet on the coffee table. She sits next to him, putting the blanket over them.
He takes the remote and turns on the TV. ''What do we watch tonight?'' He asked her, scrolling through the thumbnails on Netflix.
She makes herself comfortable with cushions behind her back and brings her cup of tea. ''I let you choose this time.''
He sighs and keeps scrolling, sometimes reading the summary before finally putting something on.
As the movie starts, she sips her tea, passing her cup to Charles who take a sip too. They're not best friends for nothing. They have known each other since they were little and they always share everything. So him drinking in the same cup as her is certainly not a problem.
And tonight he came to her house to comfort her. Her boyfriend cowardly cheated on her then left her, like a poor toy. Charles helps her to go through this. Even when she were at her lower, he was there.
And what an irony that he put a movie where the main character cheats on her boyfriend with everyone.
''Uhm you might wanna change ?'' He asks her about the third sex scene that happens, where the main character seems really excited about the idea of getting caught.
''Mh no it's ok.'' She squeezed her thighs, wishing her boyfriend was like in the movie, who knows how to bring pleasure to a woman.
''You ok?'' He asked her, putting his hand on her thigh. He really shouldn't have done that. Despite the fact that he's her best friend, she can't control her hormones and can't help but get a little wetter.
''I..I was just thinking about the fact that I have never cum so brutally. Maybe I never cum, I don't know haha.'' He looked at her, stunned. Not because they never talk about sex. But rather by the fact that she admits to him that she has never had an orgasm.
''Was your boyfriend that bad? For never having made you cum?'' She shrugged her shoulders.
Charles finds himself blushing just thinking about Y/n, actually cumming for the first time.
''You..you want me to show you what real orgasm is ?'' He asked her, almost whispering because of his shyness.
She turned her head towards him, her cheeks red. What should she do? She's so horny now that she can't say no. But does that also mean maybe ruining their friendship?
''Y-yes... Please.'' Charles himself didn't expect her to say yes. He brings his head closer to hers, his lips a few millimeters from hers. She can feel his breath on her lips and it gives her goosebumps. She closes her eyes, hoping that Charles will make the first move, because she doesn't dare to.
Just as she was about to open her eyes again, because she thought Charles wouldn't move, his lips stuck to her. His hand slides down her neck and brings her head closer to his, deepening the kiss with small movements. He moves forward so much that she lies down on the sofa, him on top of her.
''You have to tell me now if you want to stop.'' He kisses her cheeks.
''K-keep please..'' He kisses her jaw, under her ear, her neck and her collarbone. His hands slip under her t-shirt, removing it slowly. She feels shivers down her spine when he starts to rub his hands against her waist, hips, thighs and upper ass.
She found herself moaning softly, but naturally, not faking it. His kisses tease her breasts, unclipping her bra easily. He looked up at her, as if he was asking her if he could touch it.
''You..you can..'' She whispered, shyly. One of his hands found its way to massage her breasts, licking the nipples of the other one.
Charles is a smart man. And seeing that she didn't react more than that when he teased her with her breasts, he didn't dwell on it too much.
His kisses keep going lower, until he nibbles softly in her flat belly, removing her pants gently. He takes one of her hands and places it on his hair, indicating for her to play with it.
She runs her hand through it, stroking his soft hair and playing with a few strands with her fingertips. He tries to spread her legs but she unconsciously resists.
''Don't be stressed, princess.. Is it ok if I call you princess?'' She relaxes a little and Charles manages to position himself correctly between her legs.
''Y-Yes.. I like it.'' She whines softly when she feels him blowing on her panties.
He bites his bottom lip, looking at her, full of lust and hunger. A white stain is visible through her panties and Charles wants to eat her out so badly.
As if to answer him, she lightly presses Charles' head towards her privacy. He doesn't wait for a second signal and lets his fingers slide between her folds through her panties.
''Charles !'' She moaned, surprising him and herself. He allows himself to remove her panties, seeing her completely naked in front of him.
''You're so beautiful, princess..'' She put her hand over her mouth and her eyes widened when she felt Charles's lips against her bundle of nerves. He grabs her arm that's hiding her mouth, taking her hand and intertwining his fingers with hers.
''Close your eyes and don't hold back your beautiful voice..'' She closes her eyes like Charles told her, enjoying his lips and tongue.
He makes small circles with his tongue, using his free hand to push a finger inside her. She grips his hair a little tighter, digging her nails into the skin of his hand with her other hand.
The room is filled with her moans, sounding like a melody to the ears of Charles's. He inserts a second finger, making her moan louder. She feels a sensation she has never felt. Her whole body is tense and her legs are shaking uncontrollably.
She can't help but moan, Charles moving his fingers in and out quickly, in a wet and tight song. And when her whole body relaxes, without even realizing it, she drowns Charles with her precious liquid.
Charles is proud of himself. He succeeded in his mission. He made her cum. Probably for the first time in her life, given how quickly she let it go.
He gets up from between her legs after cleaning her as best he could with his tongue. He licks his two fingers, full of her liquid and also cleans his chin with his hand.
She sits up a little straighter on the sofa, not knowing what to do.
''How was it ?'' He looked at her with a naughty smile. She blushes when she sees him like that, his hair all messy by her hand.
''Incredible.'' She finds herself blushing even more when she admits that Charles makes her feel good.
''You.. want to go further?'' She smiles tenderly at him.
''I'm sorry but I'm so tired after.. my first orgasm.'' Charles chuckled and passed to her, her clothes that were on the floor.
''Never say sorry for refusing to go further.'' He passed his hand through his hair, trying to fix it.
''Can you..Sleep with me ?'' She puts her t-shirt back on and takes out her hair with a gesture of her hands. Charles looks at her doing that, his eyes full of love.
''Of course, princess.'' He winked at him, carrying her suddenly like a princess. She clutches her t-shirt, feeling slightly afraid.
''Cha! Careful!!'' He giggles and places her on her bed.
''Do you mind if I sleep in boxers?'' She finds herself blushing again. She knows that their relationship is no longer the same now.
''No no it's ok.'' He removes his jeans and t-shirt quickly, lying down beside her. She doesn't dare to go against him, not really knowing his reaction.
''Y/n?'' He asked her with a soft voice, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear.
''Yes Charlie?'' Her eyes are wide open, a knot in her stomach.
''Do you want to be my girlfriend?'' She turns red at his request.
''I..I would love to.'' Charles chuckles and moves his head towards her, kissing her tenderly. His hand resting on her waist, pulling her closer to him.
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yanderestarangel · 6 months
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♡ 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐮𝐩 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐧 ♡
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TW: smut, praise, pet names, angst, ftm reader, pussy worship, v!sex, afab anatomy, handjob, cum play, husband x husband, fingering, overstimulation.
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He was never an easy man and you knew that, living and being married to Bi Han was a test of patience sometimes, however, you never expected him to say such rude words to you in a fit of anger, but that time even you couldn't escape his fury.
He said horrible things to you, making you paralyze with shock, he saw the shit he had done when he saw you cry and left the house sobbing, he punched and broke everything he saw in front of him after he saw the what he had done, hurt the only person who still loved him despite everything... You.
You came back days later, as you saw the movement he had made to look for you - he literally put the entire Lin Kuei clan to look for you - He grabbed your arm tightly, worry and anger, anger at himself for making you upset.
"-You could be in danger!" His voice rose in intensity as he pulled you closer to him. "-Never do that again! I don't care how mad I make you, I never want you to leave without telling me." He let go of your arm and took a step back, looking into your eyes with a mixture of anger and genuine concern.
"-Now come here..." He ordered, reaching out to pull you into a rough hug. "-I need to make sure you're okay." The smell of his cologne mixed with the musky scent of his sweat filled your nostrils as he held you tightly against his chest. You could feel the heat radiating from his body as he held you tight. Despite his volatile temper, there was something comforting about being held by Bi Han, something that made you feel safe even when he scared you. He guided you to the shower, seeing that you were avoiding looking at his face, obviously upset with everything he had said - he searched your body, looking for any bruises, whispering apologies for everything, but he knew that your forgiveness and trust would only come with time. - the grand master gave you one of his shirts, it was too big on your small body compared to him, he missed you, he would have to work hard for you and your relationship. You laid down on the bed, trying to ignore him as much as possible... but you both knew it wouldn't be for long. Bi Han couldn't help but feel a sense of despair. He knew he needed to prove to you that he was willing to change, to treat you with the respect and dignity you deserved.
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Slowly, Bi Han approached you, gently kissing your neck as he reached his hand under your blouse to gently caress your breasts. "-I love you..." he whispered, his voice full of longing and regret.
You could feel his hard cock pressing into your ass, and even though you were still upset with him, there was a part of you that craved his touch. And then, you let out a soft sigh, allowing yourself to melt into his embrace.
His hand moved down your hip, slipping under the loose shirt you wore to cup your bare ass, he squeezed gently, his breath warm against your neck as he kissed you softly. "-My baby boy, you know how much I want you." His fingers slid down, teasing the edge of your pussy lips as he moved closer to you. "-You're so wet for me..." he tracing the folds of your sex with the tip of his finger. "-Do you want me to make you cum? Are you ready to be my husband again?"
You moaned at his touch, but agreed, however, that you had a pillow during the act, hugging and covering your face, not wanting to look at him yet - a physical barrier to show how upset you still were with him -
Bi Han chuckled softly as you spoke, understanding your desire to avoid eye contact. "-As you wish, my angel." Slowly, Bi Han began to thrust into you, his cock sliding in and out of your wet pussy with ease. His moans filled the air, muffled by the soft fabric as he fucked you. You were more than just his husband, you were everything to him and he would do anything to make sure you were happy.
He knew that what had happened before had been a mistake and he was determined to prove to you that he valued and respected you above all else. You moaned softly into the pillow, your body responding to his touch despite your anger - You could feel every inch of him inside you, stretching out as the pleasure built inside you -
"-Feel my cock inside your little pussy, you are my beautiful boy, I promise I will never treat you like that again baby... I swear, losing you is something unbearable and unthinkable for me." His hands roamed your body, caressing your hips and stomach as he moved inside you. He could feel the tension in your body beginning to dissipate, replaced by waves of pleasure. As he fucked you, Bi Han transferred some of his own energy to his cock, making it pulse inside you, your fingers digging into the pillow as Bi Han continued to thrust.
"-Fuuck, boy... Your pussy is so tight..." Bi Han moaned hoarsely, as the sound of his heavy balls could be heard by you, as well as felt, beating rhythmically with the thrusts of his dick in your uterus. "-Let go... let me make you come."
You felt your orgasm getting closer and closer, with each thrust and praise coming from Bi Han's lips, but the anger still existed in you, so you protested slightly between moans in the air, telling him not to cum inside your hole, moist like he was used to doing so often. "-I won't." Bi Han promised, his voice filled with frustration. He knew that you were still upset and he didn't want to make things worse by cumming inside you. Instead, he focused on making you come, using his body to bring you pleasure, but the feeling of your tight pussy around his cock was driving him crazy.
Finally, you cried out, your body shaking as waves of pleasure washed over you. Bi Han felt your pussy contract around his cock, milking him hard, he had to use all his self control to simply not tear that stupid pillow you were hugging to cover your face and see your features with the purest pleasure because of from him.
"-Fuck darling... You feel so good..." He moaned, his breath cold against your neck as he continued to thrust his hips roughly into you, unable to resist the feeling of your tight pussy wrapping around his cock.
As he approached his own climax, Bi Han withdrew quickly, with a wet, erotic pop, spreading a thick stream of cum across your stomach and breasts as he stroked himself, moaning your name and biting his lower lip. Bi Han watched as you removed the pillow from your face, his gaze flickering to your chest, where a trail of cum was already beginning to drip down between your breasts. He couldn't help but smile at the sight, feeling a sense of pride and satisfaction as he continued to stroke his cock in front of you. Bi Han's eyes locked with his as he stroked his cock, watching as you watched him.
The sight of his body covered in his cum was arousing to him, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. "-You look beautiful like this... My beautiful boy, covered in my cum." His fingers traced the line of cum that had pooled around your pussy, spreading it even further before dipping into her wet folds.
"-Come for me one more time, boy... don't think you can just push me away forever. I love you so much, and I won't let our fight come between us." You were overstimulated, and Bi Han's thumb on your clit was overwhelming, you just let go of your inhibitions and pride, just moaning his name, you screamed, your eyes rolling back as you came hard around his fingers - with the force of your second orgasm in a row - He leaned in to kiss you softly, his gaze full of love and remorse as he whispered in your ear.
"-I don't expect you to forgive me now, but, I hope this shows how much I adore you and how much I want to make you happy." With that, Bi Han got out of bed, pulling up his pants and heading towards the door.
"-I need to go now, take care of clan matters, but I promise we'll talk more about this later. I want to make sure everything is okay between us." He stopped at the door, turning to look at you. "-Take care of yourself, my beautiful boy." Bi Han said softly before leaving the room, closing the door behind him.
As you lay there in the aftermath of your orgasm, you couldn't help but feel conflicted. On the one hand, you were still angry at Bi Han for his harsh words earlier. But on the other hand, he was your husband and you were his husband, which made you wonder if maybe things could be different between you. Only time would tell if Bi Han could truly change, but something gave you hope that he could.
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©𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 2023
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ioniiaa · 3 months
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My Darling, My Honey
Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 3)
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Quick Notes:
This is when both reader/you and Alastor are both alive. (... we'll probably end up in hell later on btw so stay tuned...)
Reader is an artist/painter.
Part 3:
Shutting the door to your house, you slide down to the floor, back against the door. Your hands come up to your chest, clutching the fabric of your shirt, heart racing.
Looking around the room, you felt suffocated. Every inch of the wall had some reminder of your husband, paintings, photographs, newspaper clippings of every accomplishment and accolade of his. It made you want to tear your hair out.
A silent scream leaves your throat as tears run down your face. Silent crying was something you've mastered after all these years..
But never have you cried and broken down like this, with something giving you a glimmer of hope. That something was Alastor, he made you feel appreciated, you felt free when you were with him, like all your worries were washed away and you were helplessly in love.
With the realization that you were in love, your hands fell to the ground with a quiet thud. For too long had you suffered the control, the physical and mental abuse at the hands of your husband and your family that only saw you as a pawn- a means to an end for them.
The tears dried up as you sat there silently for hours till the sun rose, feeling like an empty husk of a human. It took you a long time before you could collect yourself.
Though you felt so weak, you had to go out and do some errands. Having to keep up the image of perfect housewife, after all.
With a vacant and empty look in your eyes, you left the house, barely presentable.
You didn't even know what you were going out for, but you'd find something, anything.
During your walk around town, looking for something to buy so you wouldn't go home empty-handed, an odd feeling and urge came over you to take a route home that you've never taken before.
The way you took this time was full of twists and turns, leading to many shady backstreets and alleyways.
One sign reading "Arabella's Apothecary" caught your eye, prompting you to enter.
The door opens with a chime, the shopkeeper giving you a smug smile, "Welcome in dear, how can I help ya this fine morn'?" You nervously tell her that you were just looking around.
The shopkeeper, who you found out was indeed Arabella, like the sign outside indicated, "You know, people don't just come in here for nothin'... Hun, I think we both know you're looking for a key to freedom."
Arabella's words shook you to your core, "A... key? T-to freedom?" You laugh nervously, wondering if this woman was a witch. But then it came to you, maybe you did need... something.
She laughed at your face, "Bwahaha, I can read you like an open book! I'm no witch, I just deal in... specialty medicines, you might say."
After a short conversation with Arabella, you find yourself in possession of some arsenic. This little powder was your freedom, and you thank your lucky stars that fate guided to this back alley hidden apothecary shop.
During the week of your husband's absence, you didn't visit Mimzy's bar at all, actually. You were planning your husband's demise. You had to be methodical, careful, every single minute detail needed to have a plan and a backup plan- including your escape and how you would remove yourself from suspicion of being involved in your husband's death.
When your husband opened the door, announcing his return, you felt a pit form in your stomach. The bile rose in the back of your throat at the thought of freedom being so close and yet so far.
According to your plan, your husband would be dead in the next couple of weeks. It would be hell to not visit Mimzy's bar in hopes of seeing Alastor again, but if everything went according to plan, you'd be free of your shackles. So two weeks, give or take a few days, was nothing compared to the near decade of pain you've had to endure.
There were a few close calls during this time, but your husband was just diagnosed with food poisoning each time until he was found dead at his desk at the office he worked at.
You had slowly poisoned him slowly and consistently enough to evade suspicion. You knew this much when the police came knocking on your door informing you that your husband was found dead. The gates holding back the flood were unlocked, and you crumpled to the floor crying. The police tried to console you, but little did they know that you secretly crying from being overjoyed at the news.
At the funeral, your family and in-laws looked at you with distaste and all they did was tell you to get out of their faces, telling you what a disappointment you were for failing as a wife to keep your husband happy and healthy.
That was all you needed to hear. You turned away from them and left town, not bothering to stop by your home. You left only with the clothes on your body, making your way to Mimzy's bar. If anyone was able to help you, it would be Mimzy, your only true friend in the world.
You get to Mimzy's bar a bit too early, sometime in the evening, as usually the bar only opens late at night. So Mimzy was prepared to ward off any suspicious people that could get the bar/speakeasy in trouble, but she rushed up to you immediately, fawning over you, seeing you in all-black funeral attire with puffy eyes, " (Y/N)! Darlin'!! What happened to you??"
Mimzy ushers you into her office, gives you a warm cup of tea and a blanket as she barrages you with more questions. You smile weakly at her and make her promise not to tell a soul, and she pinky promised that she would take your secrets to the grave. And she kindly offered for you to stay with her as long as you needed.
You took Mimzy up on her offer, but you offered to help out at the bar for as long as you did. It was the only way you would accept her generosity.
-> Part 4
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celestie0 · 6 days
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childhood friends to lovers with gojo.
warnings/tags. fluff & angst, sad ending
you two were five when he kisses ur cheek on the playground underneath the slide n you both thought that counted as a first kiss. u two were attached by the hip all throughout elementary school, i mean srs, your parents would even have joint parent teacher conferences bc there was just nothing the two of you wouldn't do together.
and then middle school came around, you joined the marching band n he joined the football team. he starts acting different around you, and it hurts. bc you two were best friends. you were always supposed to be best friends. he starts hanging out w the popular kids, and you find yourself walking home alone. summer before high school, he wants to hang out again, but you tell him you deserve better than that. and you two drift apart.
it's hard starting high school without him, watching him from afar during lunch in the cafeteria. he's with his table of phonies, acting like someone he's not, and you know because you've always known him. better than anyone else. you really wanna join the cheer team, since you've done gymnastics for a long time, but you've always been too afraid to tryout for the team. this time, you do, and you get in. now all of a sudden he wants to talk to you again, now that you're popular in high school and have earned a place on the field during his games. fuck that, you say to him, you threw away what we had just because i wasn't good enough for you to have by your side. you start dating his teammate, you two are nominated for prom queen & king, and he has to watch as you kiss someone else on stage when you win. someone that should've been him. he starts dating the cheer captain, just to show it off when he comes running to her after a winning game, kissing her right in front of you but he's not looking at her, he's looking at you. to make sure you're watching. and you do the same thing to him. and the whole time you two are wondering what are we doing to one another?
summer after high school, he shows up to your doorstep one day on his skateboard. with a box full of all the letters you used to send him as a kid. you still have yours too, somewhere tucked underneath your bed. you spend the whole afternoon laughing with him as you read through them all, laying on the carpet of your living room, and you both feel like kids again. he hovers over you when he kisses you, but you're still mad at him, and to show him how mad you are, you kiss him back. it's no use, you two are going to different colleges, you'll hardly see him, but he swears he'll call. he swears he'll fly to see you. he swears he'll never makes the same mistakes again, because he wants you. and only you. you kiss his cheek, and say okay.
and he does. he does everything he promises you. but the distance is too hard, and he was a little too late. you break up with him over a twenty-one character text sent while you're drunk at a house party your second semester at university, and he just doesn't understand. he'll never understand. and he never sees you again.
until you're both thirty-two, standing in line at the grocery store. he taps your shoulder, you turn around, you wonder if it's a stranger who wants a favor, and you realize he's so much more than that. he's the little boy that kissed your cheek underneath the slide when you were five. your first kiss. except it wasn't, was it? his face is long, and his cheeks have lost plush, but he looks so handsome it makes your heart skip a beat. you two are pleasant, exchanging it's been so long! and you look great! but when his eyes catch the twinkle of the wedding ring on your finger, his smile drops ever so slightly, and when he scratches his cheek to hide the sadness, you notice a band on his finger too. and he pays for your groceries, just to be kind. and you thank him for it, just to be kind. and you go your separate ways, never to speak again. but there's a box that still sits somewhere in your closet. and a similar one still sits in his too.
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disasterofastory · 7 months
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A shocking night (Brahms Heelshire x Reader)
A shocking night // Brahms Heelshire Masterlist Brahms Heelshire x Reader Kinktober 2023 - 2/14 Warnings: shower smut, a bit dub-c, dead bodies
Summary: You meet Brahms, the living one, for the first time.
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It's so quiet you can hear the rapid beating of your heart as it tries to break free from the hold of your ribcage. Your chest heaves as you pant and gulp for air. Your lungs burn. You can feel the wild rhythm of your pulse at the tip of your fingers. It makes your limbs numb and frozen. It makes you stop from running and escaping this hellhole.
The entrance door of the mansion seems far away. Too far away.
Your eyes are on the man. He is the only one still alive. The other three lie on the ground, bloody and motionless. They chose the wrong house to break into. Your attention falls on them for a second before snapping back at the one who stares at you from behind his mask. The white but dirty porcelain is familiar. Too familiar.
"Brahms?" Your voice is high and panicked. At first, you think he doesn't even understand your question. He tilts his head to the side before nodding. His posture is still tense and ready to jump at any second if you dare to move even an inch. His broad chest moves up and down as he pants. The white shirt he wears is dirty and bloody, too. Everything is.
How is it possible? You heard about the history of the family who hired you. Malcolm told you about their son who died in the fire that still marks the outside of the house. That's why you were so accepting to take care of a toy. You had no idea what secret they hid among the tall walls of the mansion.
"Y/N?" Your heart stops beating for a second when a high, childlike voice pulls you out of your thoughts. Your eyes focus back on the man in front of you. "Yes?" You ask back, gasping. "Are you going to leave?" He asks. It's a dangerous question. You hear the silent warning underneath his words. "No, Brahms," you force yourself to speak. "I won't leave you." He nods. Even through the mask, you can see the satisfaction that your reply brings to him. "Did they hurt you?"
Did they hurt you? You have to think about his question. You don't remember. Everything happened so fast. In one second, you were asleep, and the next, you woke up at the sharp sound of breaking glass. You went to see what it was, and before you knew it, chaos ensued. Brahms broke through a mirror and killed everyone. Well, expect you.
He steps closer, and your back presses against the wall as you try to keep your distance from him. His hand lands on your shoulder, sliding over the curve until he reaches your neck. His touch is surprisingly gentle.
Oh, now you remember. One of the men grabbed your neck when they noticed you. Your head is still dizzy because of it. And because of everything else. "I'm fine," you tell him. "Please, Brahms." Tears gather in your eyes as you stand still in his hold. "Please, don't hurt me." The man frowns behind the mask as he moves his gaze from your neck to your face. Your face is wet from crying. Your eyes shine with tears and panic. He shakes his head. "If you are good to me, I will be good to you." His words do nothing to calm you down, and his thin voice makes you want to cry harder. How is it even possible? The boy, the man in front of you, should be dead. Taking a deep breath, you reach for his hand still on your neck. His fingers curl around your fingers instantly. "We have to do something with… them," you tell him, glancing at the lifeless bodies behind Brahms.
You are not even sure what you should do. Call the police? You are sure Brahms wouldn't let you, and you would end up in prison without a question. Nobody would believe you. But maybe being behind bars would be better than staying here.
"I will take care of them," Brahms says. His voice is normal now, and you are surprised at how good it sounds. "What will you do with them?" You ask him. "I will take care of them," he repeats his previous words, and you get the hint. "Okay," you nod. "Take care of them, Brahms." At your instruction, the man's posture straightens. He almost seems happy that you told him what to do. "I will go and make some tea, okay?" You ask him. He is not happy about letting you go out of his sight, but the promise of warm tea after he is done makes him relent.
You know this is your chance to escape, but you can't make yourself do it. You are too afraid. And too tired. You sit at the kitchen island for what it feels like forever. You hear Brahms moving around in the other room, and you can see his dark form outside, but the greenery of the garden hides what he is doing. Well, you have a guess, anyway.
"Are you done?" You ask him when he appears under the door of the kitchen. He is even more dirty than he was. His boots are almost black because of the mud outside.
You have to clean up everything tomorrow. You stop at the thought. What? There is no way you will stay and play nanny after this madness.
When Brahms nods, you push the other mug his way, and he sits down in front of you. "How will you-?" Before you can finish your question, he pulls on the mask, and you get a glimpse of his thick beard and lips. "Oh." For long seconds, none of you say anything. Brahms just stares at you while sipping from his cup, and you look back at him with several unanswered questions. "Brahms," you break the silence after a while, clearing your throat. You are still afraid to say the wrong thing and anger him. As it seems, he has a sure place for dead bodies. He says nothing but watches you, waiting. "You were here the… whole time?" He nods. "And the… doll? It is just a toy, isn't it?" He nods again. The thought of him watching you without your knowledge sends unease down your spine. He was there the whole time, and you did know nothing about it. "Your parents," you continue. The words roll down your tongue slowly and carefully. "They wanted to protect you." You heard about him killing a little girl. Brahms nods, putting down the mug onto the wooden surface. It's empty. You have not enough courage to ask him why he did what he did. "You…" Your throat tightens. "You killed those men so easily." He reminded you of a feral beast, taking down those men easily and quickly. Even when they begged, Brahms didn't have mercy in his heart to throw them out and let them run away. "They hurt you," he says. His gaze falls on your neck, watching the dark bruise already forming on your soft skin. It makes him angry. "You came out to protect me?" He looks into your eyes again as he nods. "Will you hurt me?" He thinks for a long, horrible second and shakes his head. The dark curls on the top of his head frame the porcelain mask on his face. "The mask," you continue. "You can take it off." His muscles tense, and he shakes his head again. "Okay," you nod, looking at the clock on the wall. "It's late Brahms. You should take a shower and go to sleep." "No," he replies, and his voice is childlike and high again. You frown at his answer. "Do you want to go to sleep like this?" You ask him. He is dirty and bloody and sweaty. He shakes his head. "Then go and shower. You will sleep better." "No." "Brahms," you sigh. "It's late, and I'm tired. Please, just do as I say." After watching over the doll for weeks, you fall into your caretaker role automatically. "Will you be there?" "While you shower?" He nods. "If you want me there." You have to force your face not to grimace. "Will you bathe me?" 'No' is your first reaction, but you keep it yourself. He is so calm now. You don't want to do anything that can disturb it. "If you want to." He nods again, standing up. "Then go and get some clothes and meet me in your room, okay?" You can see he wants to argue for a second but decides against it at the end. He must be tired, too.
While you wait for Brahms in his room, your eyes are glued to the doll in the middle of the bed. He stares back at you. The dim lights reflect in his glass eyes. You are almost angry at it. There were moments during your time here when you foolishly thought taking care of a toy wasn't the biggest waste of your time.
A thought gets stuck in your head, and you frown. Your eyes are still on the doll when you hear the real Brahms's arrival. "Brahms," you say his name. He stops, watching your back until you turn to look at him. He holds his clean clothes against his chest. "Your parent. They won't come back." Your question sounds like a statement, but the man nods anyway.
You need several deep breaths to calm yourself. Upsetting Brahms won't lead you anywhere good.
"Come," you break the silence after a while. Your voice is surprisingly steady. "The sooner you get cleaned, the sooner we can go to sleep."
In the small space of the bathroom, Brahms seems even bigger. He towers over you easily, watching you put his clean clothes on the toilet through his mask. His heart is wild in his chest. He imagined you this close to him so many times before. Of course, he acted on his desires several times, but now you are awake. You know about him. And you will stay. "Take off your clothes, Brahms," you tell him, trying to look everywhere else but him as he slowly does as you say. "You don't like me?" His voice is a mix of his real and childlike pitch. You gulp. "Of course, I like you, Brahms." "Then why don't you look at me?" He is confused. You don't like how he looks like? Maybe you would prefer Malcolm instead of him? The thought angers him. That man is weak and incapable of protecting you. You force yourself to look at him. "I just thought you would feel uncomfortable," you lie. Oh. The man calms down within a second. How nice of you. "Now go," you tell him, pointing at the already running water. For a moment, you think he will obey again, but at the last second, he grabs your wrist, trying to pull you with himself. "Brahms!" You gasp. "What are you doing?" "You are dirty, too." "I will take a shower after you go to sleep." "No." "Brahms!" You don't stand a chance against his strength. The sleeve of your shirt is already wet. "Get in with me!" The anger is clear and powerful in his voice. Blood freezes in your veins at his sudden aggression. "Okay! Okay!" You gasp, afraid. With a quick step, you are under the water, too, letting your clothes get soaked and stick to your body.
Being so close to him, you don't have any other option but to stare at his bare upper body. His skin is several shades darker, with dried blood and dirt on it. His chest is covered in dark hair that barely hides his hard muscles. How can he be so fit while living inside the walls?
"No," he breaks the silence when you reach out for the sponge. "I don't want that." After his last outburst, you decide to let it go. Pouring some soap in your palm, you smear it all over his chest. Your lungs burn for air as you stare into nothing, trying not to think about what you are doing right now. You can feel his muscles quiver and move under your touch. "Am I a good boy?" Brahms asks, making you look up at him in surprise. "Yes," you reply. "You are a good boy." "I protected you." "You did, Brahms." "And good boys get rewards, right?" You gulp. "I guess you are right." "Then take off your clothes." Fuck. "I will take off my clothes if you wash your hair. I can't reach it." The man thinks about it for a second, then nods. By the time you reach for your shirt, he is already washing his hair.
Brahms's heart thuds in his chest as he watches you get rid of your clothes. Soon, you are bare and soft in front of him. Your hair is soaked, and small drops of water run over your skin, caressing the parts he wants to touch, too. His large palms almost burn with need, and his fingers twitch with need. "Am I still a good boy?" He asks, staring down at you. He doesn't even try to hide the fact that he is mesmerized by your breasts. Your nipples are hard peaks almost grazing his chest. "Yes." Your reply is barely louder than a whisper. "Then I can wash you too." It's more of a statement. "Brahms, I don't think it-" Your words end in a startled gasp as he tugs you closer without your permission. His hands are large on your back. His erection is pressed between your bodies. The friction makes him grunt. He caresses your skin, starting on your back and slowly but surely slipping to your front. His thumb flicks over your nipples, playing and teasing them. "Brahms!" You want to sound stern, but your voice trembles at the pleasurable feeling that goes straight between your legs. When he tugs on one of your nipples, your back arches on its own. He knows your body better than you think, and his little secret pulls a naughty smirk on his lips. "Y/N," he says your name, almost whining. "You said I am a good boy." "You are," you tell him. "But you shouldn't-" Your moan is loud and clear in the small room. His long fingers slip between your legs even when you try to close your thighs. "Let me get my reward," he says, on the edge of demanding. "I am a good boy, Y/N. I protected you from those men." "You did," you cry out, feeling him on your most intimate part. His fingertips graze over your slit, opening you up to caress you some more. He isn't sure what he is doing, but it doesn't stop your body from reacting. You feel yourself getting wetter and wetter. His breathing is heavy next to your ear, and his hips rock against your stomach. He grinds his cock to your skin for some friction and whines every now and again. "Teach me, Y/N," he says. "Tell me what to do to be your good boy." If he is a good boy, you won't leave him. You won't even try it. "M-my clit," you tell him, reaching down for his hand to lead him to the small buddle of nerves. "Rub it, Brahms. Here!" He does as you say, watching your face to see what feels good and what isn't. The man draws small circles on your clit while his fingers get soaked in your juices. He can feel the familiar pull on his balls as he continues to grind against your body. Your soft stomach feels like heaven on his aching cock. Your hands snap up to his shoulders, grabbing onto the man to keep your balance. Your legs shake, and your thighs open for his curious fingers. He feels proud when he notices it. "Call me a good boy," he pants demandingly. "Tell me I'm your good boy, and you won't leave me." His fingers on you move faster, rubbing and teasing. "You are my good boy, Brahms," you tell him, gasping and moaning. Hot coil burns in your stomach as you feel your orgasm approaching. "So good!"
You almost fall against the tiles when Brahms squats down in front of you. Your nails scratch over the wall to find your balance. For long seconds, you forget how to breathe as you stare down at the man's curly, wet locks in front of you. You can feel the cold of his mask on your thigh as he pushes it out of the way. "Brahms!" Hearing his name falling out of your lips in a shocked cry makes his cock jerk and leak even more pre-cum.
The scent of your arousal is thick and heavy in his nostrils. Saliva gathers in his mouth as he takes several deep breaths to burn your smell in his memory. When one of your hands finds his hair in a strong pull, he doesn't waste any more time. He leans closer and closes his lips around the small bud he teased a few minutes ago. The vibration of his moan strikes over your body. Your taste floods his mouth, and he can't help but crave more. He devours your pussy like his life depends on it. His tongue flicks over your clit, and his cheeks hollow when he starts to suck on it. "Fuck!" You scream, letting your head fall backward. "Brahms!" Your hips grind down on his face with fastened pace as you chase your release. His muffled whines and moans echo in the small bathroom, mixing with your cries until both of you reach your highs and fall over the edge. His cum lands on the ground until the still running water washes it down the drain while your pussy gets cleaned by his tongue. Your muscles twitch and jerk under every swipe on your sensitive center. "Good boy, Brahms," you gasp for air. "You are my good boy."
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norrisleclercf1 · 3 months
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Lando “honey, what’s with all of this in the bathroom?” “you came back early? the surprise got ruined!” Taking a bath with a lover prompt
A/N: Part of my 6K Followers Celebration
"He might find this stupid." You whine to Max, who you were currently on FaceTime with. Max chuckled and shook his head as he was sitting at his gaming station. "Y/n, you could make him an ice bath and he'd jump in with you. I think he'll love this." Max giggled and you groan, throwing your head back.
"But, he's a guy, maybe he won't like all these candles, and flowers, and ugh," Max wanted to reach through the screen and strangle you. Lando was coming home from a hard race. Vegas was not kind to anyone, and Vegas was certainly not kind to him.
There was nothing more you wanted than to have been there, but unable to due to work. And you had to even miss his birthday and that was something you hated. More so when you watched that crash. He was flying back and would be due home anytime.
"Y/n, jesus he's going to love this. Lando is so disgustingly in love with you he wouldn't even care. Now, I've got to go alright, text me when he gets home okay?" "Yeah, okay." You groan and head to the closet to find some comfortable clothes for the both of you.
Deep in the closet you didn't even hear the front door or Lando make his way through the house. He sees the bathroom door creaked open and the sound of the bath running. "Honey? What's with all of this in the bathroom?" He yells and you freeze, hearing his voice.
You stop and whine, "Lando! You came back early," You huff and Lando smiles softly. "The surprise is ruined," You hold the clothes to your chest, and Lando moves removing the clothes from your hold. "You did this for me?" He whispers, replacing the clothes with himself.
"I saw the crash, and I figured you'd be sore and tired and I just thought that maybe you'd love a bath, with me." You whisper feeling shy at the way he was staring at you. "I love you, so much." He whispers and kisses you, but pulls away and turns the water off.
"Come on, join me." He strips and you feel your eyes water slightly seeing the giant bruise that decorated his side. Reaching out, you took it and watch the way his body snaps away from your touch. "Sorry, still hurts." You nod and help him into the bath.
The warm water allows you to see the way his muscles physically relaxed and soon you undressed and slide in on the other side. "It smells good," He whispers tugging on your ankle. "Come here," He pleads, making his eyes big. "Lando, I'll hurt you." You remind him but he shakes his head, no.
"I don't care, just come here, please." He gives you puppy eyes and you can't resist. Sliding through the water you gently lay against his chest. Lando sighs leaning his head back as you two sit in silence. No words were needed for you two to feel what the other was saying.
This was perfect.
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