#i imagine this all takes place over several weeks

[jinwoosungs]

09/21/24; 08:45am

{ drabbles / headcanons }

[ when they break it off with you and regret it ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel

warnings: potentially ooc characters (especially xavier’s). just imagine them under severe stress ;;

it had been weeks since the last time you had ever spoken to sylus, yet when you tried to dial his number, only to receive a dial tone in return-

you knew something was amiss.

you spent countless sleepless nights, alone in your bed. anxious thoughts haunting every minute that ticks by, making the passing minutes morph into countless hours.

and what was worse?

you stopped seeing signs of mephisto trailing behind you, his beady, black eyes following your every movement while feeding sylus a livestream of what you were doing (a safety measure he had began simply to protect you).

had you done something wrong?

what had changed between you and sylus during the two years you spent dating?

and why was he acting so distant now, without even speaking a word to you?

strengthening your resolve, you got out of bed after work and headed directly towards the n109 zone. despite how you could feel your pounding heart thrumming beneath your throat and the way your palms seemed to sweat with each step that you take.

upon reaching sylus's residence, hand formed into a fist to knock against his door when it suddenly opens, revealing a giggling woman. she nearly runs into you, completely unaware of your presence. her wide, jade-green eyes look back at you, with long lashes that perfectly frames at her face.

her lips were painted a burgundy red, and as she assesses you, her gaze immediately turns hostile. before saying a word, she stops herself, choosing instead to give you a smirk. tossing aside her long curls of auburn hair, she lets out a haughty huff before walking out of sylus's home.

ice was felt running through your veins, making your heart freeze over. you struggled to comprehend what was going on. who was she? and why was she coming out of your boyfriend's home? you stood there, completely dumbfounded and hurt at the thought of sylus's potential betrayal.

as if responding to your turmoil, sylus appears in front of you, a bored expression painting his handsome features with an air of nonchalance. he was dressed in his usual, pristine suit, his crimson eyes no longer filled with warmth as they met your gaze. you shakily call out his name, only to receive an annoyed scoff in response.

"what are you doing here? i thought me blocking you and shutting down all communication with you was clear enough."

you refuse to let the hurt show on your face, clenching your hands together as you balled then into tighter fists. "what do you mean by that? how is it clear enough when what i've always wanted was for you to tell me directly. i thought you would be mature enough to give me a verbal breakup face to face."

sylus lets out a grunt of annoyance, stepping out of his home while meeting you on the steps. "so you could take the hint after all, you just want me to say it? then fine, i'll say it."

he harshly grabs a hold of your chin, placing it within an almost painful, vice grip. he forces you to meet with his gaze, speaking witha finality that manages to shatter your heart into millions of pieces. "we're over. you were nothing more than just a toy for me to kill time with."

a gasp manages to escape from your parted lips, and you immediately shoved yourself away from sylus, tears marring your vision as you ran away from him.

it was over.

the love you felt for him-

the love you worked so hard to protect was gone now-

all because you were simply used as a means to ease sylus's boredom.

{ ... }

you lost track of time, unsure of how long it's been since sylus had called it off so callously with you. the warm seasons had morphed into winter, leaving you with a bitter taste as you realized just how numb you felt.

it was the same routine every day.

wake up.

go to work.

eat the most minimal amount of food, just to sustain yourself to get through the day.

wash away your tears in the shower.

head to bed-

rinse, wash, and repeat.

despite the falling snow, and how it was gently piling up against the sidewalk, you opted out of wearing a proper coat and chose to wear a certain sweater instead. its fabric was already close to being frayed, its cream color reminiscent of just how well it fit against an impossibly handsome face with gentle, rufescent eyes.

you didn't know why you still kept his sweater. perhaps you were still deluding yourself into believing sylus still loved you. the single item you had kept from him still had his lingering scent, and whenever you closed your eyes, you could imagine it was sylus's arms wrapped tightly around you, securing you with his warmth.

a shudder courses through your body, with your eyes simply focusing on the footprints your boots made into the snow. you were getting closer to your apartment complex, ready to take those concrete steps two at a time before something distracts you from moving forward.

settled directly in front of the stairs was a wrapped present that had your full name on it. the curiosity you felt ends up warding off the cold momentarily, making you curious as to who had given you this gift.

ignoring the way the snowflake fell against your eyelashes, you gently tear open the present from the side, revealing a large, black velvet box. with bated breath, you pry open the box to see a gorgeously crafted necklace depicting an onyx crow shielding a ruby heart with its wings.

you were so captivated by the necklace that you almost didn't catch the lingering scent, a familiar cologne you had memorized and kept in the back of your memories. the cold chill of the wintry day was gone now, replaced by an irrevocable warmth that surrounds you, warming you to your core.

"i'm sorry, i know that mere words cannot make up for all of the hurt i had put you through."

the stinging sensation of tears threatens to fall from your eyes, yet you remained completely and utterly still, allowing sylus to further strengthen his hold around you. "the woman you saw all those months ago was the daughter of a former client, a client i wished to get rid of. i wanted to keep you safe from her and her notorious family, that's why i ended things with you."

"you don't know how torn i was, realizing that i was the cause of your heartbreak. i've lost sleep, and struggled to maintain my health all while doing all that i could to protect you."

your heart becomes filled with empathy just then, feeling the way sylus shudders against you, hiding his face within the crook of your neck. you call out to him, turning your head ever so slightly to catch a glimpse of him. his features appeared paler now, his cheeks losing its once defined edge while taking on a more gaunt exterior. dark circles were seen beneath his eyes, serving as evidence of how little sleep he had gotten.

the gift falls from the palm of your hands, and you were filled once more with love and concern for him. your hands shake, gently framing at his face as sylus closes his eyes, nuzzling himself even closer to the palm of your hands. "you've lost weight."

he shakes his head, pressing a kiss against the palm of your hands. "it's nothing compared to the pain i've caused you."

tears well up within your eyes, making sylus frown as he gently kneels down before you, picking up the box that still contained his precious gift to you. "here, let me help you put this on."

standing back to his full height, he brushes back your hair, pressing a kiss against your exposed neck before unclasping the necklace. once he fastens the chain, he allows the onyx and ruby pendant to fall against your chest.

words no longer needed to be spoken the moment sylus takes you into his arms, placing a searing kiss against your lips with the hopes of conveying the heartache and regret that was felt mounting within him following the months after your departure.

zayne had missed your three year anniversary together.

here you are, standing in the middle of your once shared dining room table, preparing him a celebratory meal that consisted of all of his favorite foods. disappointment was felt weighing your heart down, and despite all of your best efforts, zayne still hadn't come home from work.

it wasn't like you didn't try to give him hints about your plans. in fact, on the morning that marked your third anniversary, you gave zayne's office a call, setting a gentle reminder for him and the occasion.

you remembered how it sounded like he had visibly stiffened on the other end, clearing his throat while reassuring you that he'll be home tonight in order to celebrate with you. your heart, still filled with love for him as you viewed the world through a rose colored lens, believed every single word that came from his parted lips.

you refused to acknowledge how emotionless he sounded.

or how it felt like zayne viewed your reminder as a mere nuisance instead of being genuinely upset for forgetting about his third year anniversary with you.

no, instead, you foolishly cling to hope, still believing that he loved you despite it all.

so, you spent hours slaving away in the kitchen, cooking all of zayne's favorite foods to perfection (while making sure every recipe was void of carrots). by 7pm, you had the entire dining table set up with copious amounts of food, wishing to help strengthen him after such long shift at work.

you sit at your usual spot at the table, looking at your phone to see if zayne would call or text you, alerting you of his departure from the hospital. while waiting for him, your heart was filled with anticipation, waiting for the moment zayne's footsteps could be heard walking through the door.

7:45pm

8:30pm

9:56pm

10:14pm

as the hours ticked on, and there were still no signs of zayne walking through the door, you allowed your heart to sink to the bottom of your chest. your throat was felt closing in on you, making it harder for you to breathe as you put away all of the uneaten food into neat containers before placing them in the refrigerator.

once everything had been put away, you let out a frustrated sob, your back sliding against the cold surface of the fridge. the tears kept welling within your eyes, falling like wet droplets of rain that cascades down your face. your head was aching, and your heart was felt breaking within the confines of your chest as you struggled to think of what to do next.

sleep evaded you for the whole night, leaving your mind tired and broken as you finally decided to get off of the floor. your face had been stained and rendered damp with the saltiness of your tears, and you knew you had to make yourself at least a bit more presentable before facing zayne.

after a long shower, you put on a light sheen of makeup in hopes of hiding your swollen eyelids and chapped lips. knowing that deep down you still loved him, you made a stop to his favorite bakery and bought a box of assorted macaroons for him. the fresh scent and sweet of those cookies was enough to calm your nerves as you walked towards akso hospital with a bit of a bounce in your step.

in your head, you came up with countless excuses for him. he's the best cardiac surgeon linkon has ever known, of course he would forget here and there, but that doesn't mean he stopped loving you.

right?

right?

with the hospital building now looming over you, you purse your lips and try to calm your rapidly beating heart. due to the thousands of times you had navigated through the hospital, you reached zayne's office in just a few minutes, allowing yourself inside as you saw zayne laying back against his chair, still caught in a slumber.

zayne only awakens when he hears your approaching footsteps, eyes squinting in response to the intensity of the sun. clearing his throat, he adjusts his tie before sitting up properly on his desk. he places his reading glasses on, meeting your gaze while speaking in a hoarse tone.

"what are you doing here?"

unable to stop the tears that well up within your eyes, you place the box of macaroons on his desk. "i came here because i was worried about you... and... and i wanted to tell you that you forgot our anniversary dinner."

zayne's eyes go wide momentarily before letting out a deep sigh. he takes off his glasses, rubbing the stress from his temples before telling you with an almost brutal honesty, "i'm sorry, but my work takes precedence over your own happiness. there are countless lives that are relying on me to be saved, and i can't afford to ignore a single soul."

you felt as though you had been slapped in the face, your heart clenching along with the way your breathing hitches almost painfully in response.

"then... what are y-you trying to say?"

with an exasperated sigh of your name, zayne admits to you once more, "i would much rather bury myself into work than focus on your happiness."

for you, that was the moment you knew that it was all over between you and zayne. giving him a stiff nod, you swiftly turn away from him, allowing your tears to freely fall while choking back a sob. the love you felt for zayne began to well up deep within your chest, and now that you no longer had his love, you felt as though your whole world was ending.

{ ... }

you had no idea how you were able to move on with your life, acting like nothing was wrong for the past 3 months since zayne had broken it off with you.

since that day, you immediately moved out of zayne's home, haphazardly tossing your clothes and the rest of your belongings in a few suitcases. unable to bear the thought of even seeing him again, you blocked his number and moved in with a close friend of yours.

through your tears, you allowed your best friend to comfort you with copious cartons of ice cream and a manicure, allowing your friend to polish your nails while giving you her spare bedroom to sleep in.

as your friend spent the day working, you decided to treat yourself on your day off. not wishing to remain holed up in the apartment, you decided to explore linkon city and visit various shops you missed going to ever since your breakup with zayne.

for your first stop of the day, you decided to visit a quaint little bookstore located within the heart of the city. entering the building, you allow the fresh scent of books fill you, basking in the tranquil environment of it all.

not caring about what book you were going to purchase, you simply explore each of the aisles, choosing books that piqued your interest based solely on the title and cover alone. once you made your selection, the kind cashier up front rings out your books before holding out a hand to you, not accepting your form of payment when she slides a sleek black card within the card reader.

"i'm sorry for the inconvenience, miss, but i was given strict orders to not allow you to pay for your books."

her statement makes you tilt your head in response. "o-oh? but... who would do something so kind?"

the cashier shrugs while giving you a wink, placing your books in a neat pile within a bag. "hard to say, maybe someone just felt generous today, that's all."

despite her strange reasoning, you still thanked her for her time and generosity, watching as she slid the strange credit card beneath the cash register before leaving.

excited with your purchases, you were eager to read your novels the moment you returned home.

as you tucked away the memory of your paid books to the back of your mind, you figured that would be the end of such kindness-

only to be proven wrong throughout the day.

for starters, when you had gotten hungry and decided to eat some of your favorite pastries at a cafe, the same exact scenario occurred-

the cashier politely declines your payment, telling you that everything was paid for while giving you that same, mysterious smile.

choosing to ignore such strangeness, you went on with your day, exploring linkon while ignoring the lingering sensation of being watched. after spending several more hours within the city, you decided to treat yourself to a nice dinner at your favorite restaurant.

you went all out with your dinner as well, ordering a three course meal that consisted of all your favorite foods. the total price that came at the end of the meal would cost you a pretty penny-

yet when you attempt to pay for your meal, your waiter tells you that it had already been taken care of. by now, you were desperate to know who the culprit was, unable to comprehend why such a stranger would be so kind to you, of all people?

the waiter was the only one who relented to the identity of this person, giving you a thoughtful expression while shrugging, "i didn't get his name, but he was a tall man with dark hair dressed in a black trench coat."

and that was all the answer you needed to confirm your very suspicions.

clutching your bag of books close to your chest, you hurriedly run out of the restaurant, seeing the same tall man walking with his head down low, as if wishing to blend with the night itself. not wishing him to walk away from you, you call out to him,

"ZAYNE!"

the tall man stiffens, but stops walking when you cried out to him. taking advantage of the fact that he was standing still, you catch up with him, not stopping until he was a mere inches in front of you.

no words were spoken, and you watch as zayne turns around to face you. a gasp was felt coming from your parted lips, and you had to take a step back, finally realizing how much weight zayne had lost as the dark circles beneath his eyes catches you off guard.

an expression filled with regret meets your gaze, and you felt your heart aching with such empathy for him that you take a step forward, reaching out to him.

with wide eyes, zayne steps back, guilt filling his features as he shakes his head, "don't. i don't deserve to be close to you. the only thing i can do is make you happy from a distance."

you shake your head and take a step forward. "why?"

zayne frowns at your question, "what do you mean?"

"why do you believe that you can only make me happy from a distance?"

zayne could no longer meet your gaze then, choosing instead to bite down on his bottom lip. "i-i squandered your love when you offered it so freely to me. i chose to focus on my career instead of making you happy- w-when all you have ever done is do everything in your power to make me happy, even when i didn't deserve it."

you shake your head, dropping your bag of books so that you could fully embrace zayne with no barriers between you and him. you hear the way his breath hitches, but bask in his warmth the moment he returns your embrace.

"you're such an intelligent man, yet a-at the same time, you're the biggest dummy i know. you should have known that what i felt for you was and always has been unconditional. despite how hurt i was when you forgot our anniversary, i couldn't bring myself to truly hate you."

a shudder was felt going through zayne, and you relish in the sensation of his arms wrapping around you, bringing you even closer to his chest in a tighter embrace. "no more; no longer will i take your love for granted. this i promise you..."

he frames at your face, tilting your head upwards, allowing you to meet with his gaze once more before leaning forward. zayne seals his promise to you in a searing kiss, and the sensation of the way his lips perfectly slot against yours was enough to make you forget all about your prior heartaches...

xavier had once again, allowed your calls to go straight to voicemail. the weeks leading up to you trying to get in touch with him, he had left every single one of your text messages on read, never once giving you an explanation about his behavior.

two months had passed when you finally saw xavier again.

after spending weeks visiting his apartment, only to receive no answer in return, you forced yourself to take the hint and stopped coming to his place, wallowing in your own miseries as you thought about what could have gone wrong between you and your boyfriend.

you had simply been running errands when you saw him walking around the streets of the city, hand buried deep within the pocket of his hoodie. your eyes go wide at the mere sight of him, with you making a mad dash across the city in order to reach him.

"xavier!"

you watch as the young hunter seems to stiffen in his tracks, not daring to even move a muscle when you caught up to him. he meets your curious gaze with cold eyes the shade of hardened sapphires. such a look was enough to stop you dead in your tracks, your heart pounding with anxious beats now at what was to come.

"h-hey, i was worried about you. w-where have you been?"

xavier ends up shaking his head, pinching at the bridge of his nose before fully facing you, "dammit... i knew i was forgetting something."

you frown upon hearing his words, "forgetting something? l-like what?"

he scoffs before meeting your gaze once more, "i was referring to breaking up with you."

your breathing comes out in labored, shallowed breaths just then. your whole world felt like it was spinning on its axis, changing the trajectory of your life as you took a step back. "w-what? please tell me you're joking!"

the hunter shakes his head, "i'm not joking at all, you've gotten so clingy lately, and it's putting a damper on my work as a hunter. your constant calls and texts have become a distraction that i can simply do without."

he meets your gaze, expression flashing momentarily with an unknown emotion before reverting back to his cold gaze. “if i knew how much of a chore it was going to be to keep up with this relationship all while trying to maintain my strength as a hunter, then i wouldn’t have even tried.”

an immense pain and anger was felt coursing through your veins just then, "are you fucking kidding me? the reason why i text and call you so often is because i'm worried about you! i worry because i still care, because i still lo-"

"don't." xavier hisses at you, cutting off your words with a look of disdain. you could feel your heart cease its beats, making your throat turn dry when you shakily ask him, "so, are you s-saying it's over?"

he scoffs, refusing to meet your gaze when he admits to you, "it's been over since the moment i agreed to take that two month long mission, just to get away from you and find a moment of peace.”

your breathing nearly stops right then and there. being fueled solely by your heartache and anger, you step closer to him and lift your hand, slapping his cheek as the sound of the palm of your hand meeting with his skin in a harsh manner echoes throughout the city. he remains silent, slowly facing you once more as the imprint of your hand was seen against his cheek.

xavier's pale cheek was now a harsh red hue due to the intensity of your slap. he shuts his eyes and calls out your name, but you immediately back away from him with tears streaming down your face. you leave your callous ex behind, willing yourself to move on from him when you finally walked away, refusing to look back.

{ ... }

a total of 6 months had passed since your messy breakup with xavier, and despite how angry you felt-

the stupid hole in your heart refused to let him go, your mind painting a collage of precious memories that you couldn't just simply forget. from xavier placing glowing stars against your room's ceilings, to the various moments of intimacy you shared while within the comfort of his arms-

your mind couldn’t help but go back to those precious days. despite everything, you did understand where xavier was coming from. each day, a new mission as a hunter was placed upon him, and because of how you lived your life as a normal civilian, you couldn’t understand what he was going through…

which left you nothing else to cling to but bitter memories of what could be. every single waking moment was spent going through each and every moment you shared with him, your heart forever yearning for him and how things could have been different.

forcing yourself to rid yourself of your tears, you walk into work the next day, not expecting anything different in particular when the sight of something stops you dead in your tracks. surrounding your tiny cubicle space were bouquets of various styles and colors, each and every one of them appearing just as extravagant as the last. you take another step into your office, eyes nearly filling with tears from the sheer amount of colors that surrounds you.

it takes you a moment to take in each precious bloom, your throat turning dry as you allowed the sweet scent of the petals to fill your senses. feeling overwhelmed, you turn around, only to stop when a familiar blond young man appears before you.

xavier's eyes no longer appear callous and cold, now filled with a lingering regret as he held a bouquet of red roses within his hand. he says your name, the syllables breaking slightly due to the slight tremor heard in his voice.

"i-i'm sorry, i've been such a jackass to you that i didn't realize what i had before i lost it. i-it's all my fault, for never appreciating the love and care you had for me. i kept viewing your love as a hindrance… a nuisance when it was so undeserved. and for that, truly- i’m sorry.”

you shake your head, muttering "dumbass" beneath your breath before walking towards him, framing his stupidly handsome face between your hands before crushing your lips against his in a searing kiss. xavier ends up dropping the bouquet of roses, allowing it to fall carelessly to the ground as his shaky hands cupped at your cheek, returning your kiss with just as much fervor...

finding comfort that despite it all, you still loved him enough to forgive him.

when your calls kept going to voicemail, and your messages remained unread by rafayel, you decided that it was time to visit him at his place. within the depths of your heart, you had no concerns about your relationship with the talented artist.

in fact, you were so proud of your boyfriend and how far he has come, with his first exhibition approaching within the next year. you knew that he was probably engrossed with making new pieces to showcase his art, but you wanted to make sure that he was properly taking care of himself, too.

with a bag of his favorite takeout in hand, you extract the spare key to his apartment from the confines of your purse and enter his home. what you weren't expecting was to see the awful state his apartment was rendered to.

surrounding you were torn pieces of canvas and broken marble, with splatters of paint seen across each half-finished piece of art. placing the bag of takeout on the kitchen counter, you quickly dash towards rafayel's room, only to feel your heart sink at the sight of him.

dressed in his signature white shirt and dress pants, he remains slumped over on the ground, gripping at his wavy strands of hair as sobbed wracked through his body. you immediately rush over to him, calling out his name before placing him within the comfort of your arms.

you feel his entire body stiffen while in your embrace, removing his face away from his hands while looking back at you. a strange, almost alien look of annoyance graces his features, making you do a double take when he physically removes your arms off of him.

"rafe?" you tentatively call out his name, making the artist angrily wipe away his tears before meeting your gaze.

"what are you doing here? i thought i told you i would be busy setting up for my first exhibit."

you shake your head, "n-no, i completely understand, it's just- i was just worried about you. i wanted to give you a break, a-and even bought your favorite takeout!"

rafayel scoffs in response to your admission, "you shouldn't have done that. you've not only wasted your time, but mine as well."

you felt the way your heart clenches painfully in response to his words, the coldness of it all making you take a step back. but rafayel wasn't finished, oh no, far from it.

he stalks closer to you, the entirety of his body seeming to stiffen even further as he balls both of his fists closer to his sides. "my artistic muse is suffering because of you and how you're always demanding my time. i've got an exhibition coming up within the next 8 months, and i don't want you to ruin it."

tears were streaming down your face, and you tried to hold on to hope that your beloved rafayel didn't mean it. that he was just stressed and simply wanted everything to go well that he was overworking himself.

yet all of your hopes were dashed the moment his once brilliant eyes began to shine with annoyance for you.

"it's over."

a broken sob manages to escape from your parted lips, with you turning away from him all while blindly searching for the door. the sheer amount of tears did little to ease the utter heartbreak you felt, allowing the shattered pieces of your heart to fall as you struggled to even breathe.

once you were out of his home, you take quick strides back home, somehow knowing that your life would never be the same without rafayel in it.

{ ... }

8 months had passed since your breakup with rafayel, and you honestly forgot all about his upcoming exhibit.

despite how you were certain that you could no longer feel a speck of happiness within your heart, you still tried to do things to get out of your house and enjoy your day.

wishing to explore the city, you bought a cone of your favorite ice cream, proceeding to eat it as you walked around linkon when you felt several eyes looking at you. you frown and look back, only for the person to quickly look away, whispering something to their friend.

you found this behavior to be strange, but shrugged it off all while continuing to enjoy your ice cream.

even when you tried to ignore the lingering gazes, it still felt extremely odd to you, making you lose your appetite as you threw away what was left of your ice cream cone.

"excuse me, miss?" you stop walking, coming face to face with an older woman with a kind face. she brushes back her strands of silvery hair before asking you, "may i take a closer look at you?"

your eyebrows come together in a frown, yet you relent and give her a nod all the same. she thanks you, coming closer to gently frame at your face with her frail, two hands. after her gentle inspection of you, she lets go of you and smiles, "you truly are beautiful, i can see why that young artist chose you as his muse."

you could feel the way your heart began to beat faster against your chest, making you swallow thickly as you shakily ask her, "w-what is this artist's name?"

"oh, he's a beautiful young man by the name of rafayel!" the lady's eyes twinkle with amusement, not taking offense to your actions even when you turned away from her.

not able to focus on anything else but him, you allow your feet to take you to the address of his first exhibition, leading you to a gorgeous glass building where you could see the various art he had on display. as you entered the building, the guests seemed to sense your presence and knew exactly who you were due to how each piece of art had your likeness.

mesmerized at the sheer amount of talent rafayel displayed, you felt as though you were looking at yourself through a golden lens. despite how imperfect and ugly you felt some days, rafayel manages to capture your essence while accentuating it all, making you appear so beautiful as those tiny imperfections simply served to add character to your features.

from the way your eyes crinkled each time you laughed-

to the subtle droplet of tears with your lips formed into a pout each time you cried-

each moment was captured so perfectly (so lovingly) within each canvas that you found it harder to breathe. as you take in the artworks that surround you, you heard a familiar voice calling out to you.

"you had always been my muse, yet i was too stupid and selfish to realize it."

you gasp, turning around to see rafayel carrying a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand. a melancholic expression was seen within his gaze when he comes closer to you, falling to his knees while offering the bouquet to you.

feeling the tears welling up within your eyes, you shakily accept the bouquet and gently hold it to your chest, watching as rafayel remains kneeling before you. "i'm a selfish and childish brat who takes out his frustrations on those he loves... and i'm so sorry for lashing out at you that day when you wanted nothing more than to take care of me."

"i know i don't deserve it, b-but i love you, and i can't live without you. i-if you could just give me another chance, then-!"

but rafayel was cut off the moment you fall to your knees with him, setting aside bouquet as you leaned closer to him, swallowing rafayel's tears with a kiss, you felt the way he lets out a gasp, remaining frozen for a brief second before responding mere moments later.

with his large hand felt cupping at the side of your face, rafayel returns your kiss, not daring to let you go now that he had you back within his arms-

back to where you have always belonged.

end notes: writing this while listening to joji has been so fitting 🥹 currently unedited, but changes will be made once this is posted.

editing notes: just to clarify, all of my reader characters for my lads stories are supposed to be genuine self inserts for the reader themselves. i know that if it was the mc, such a scenario like this could never happen, due to everyone’s lore. but i don’t like using mc as a cover for my readers, since none of us could ever achieve such pristine beauty and perfection. i’m sorry if this story ends up being incredibly ooc, but the reader characters i try to write for are flawed and very human. thanks for coming to my ted talk, and for reading and giving my stories a chance 🥹

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[btskitten7]

Silent Grace| Chapter xiv: Love Lies

Ship: Min Yoongi x Fem reader

au/genre: Mafia!au

rating: M

wc: 3.3k

Chapter warnings: TW: anxiety mentions. Pregnancy mentions. Just a lot of uncomfortable conversations. Yoongi is starting to drink heavily.

summary: Yoongi isn't taking care of himself properly and is displaying some signs of depression and irrational behavior. It's mild in this chapter but please take care of yourselves. MOM FLASHBACK (finally right?) She will be getting a few more soon. Just a lot of uncomfortable conversations.

tagss: @shadowyjellyfishfest @baechugff @maunosorioh @shelylamc @princess-sunshyn @scuzmunkie @wanceu @coldcoffee2121 @maunosorioh @massivelyfullenthusiast @bangtan-famiglia-net

Inside a dimly lit room, the smell of strong cigars and hushed whispers permeated the atmosphere as everyone waited for Yoongi to sit at the head of the long, marble table. A chandelier loomed, casting wavering shadows over his stony face and his black suit, hair slicked back just above his shoulders, only a single strain hanging over his eyebrow, and a cigar hanging from his mouth accentuating his power and authority.

"You're not here for the scenery, so stop gawking and sit the hell down," commanded Yoongi, his voice echoing around the room. The men quickly took their places, their bodies tense in the pleather chairs as they did their best to avoid his piercing gaze. They already knew that for the past few weeks, Yoongi had been on edge. He has been stricter, meaner, and colder.

Ever since Min did his bullshit, Yoongi has been His fingers drummed an irritated rhythm on the table as he surveyed each one of them. Internally, they began to quake—from fear, anticipation, or maybe both—they couldn't tell.

"Been a tough week, boys, hasn't it?" he started, a sarcastic smile playing on his lips. "Losses left and right, seventy-thousand out from the casino, and don't even get me started on that botched shipment down at the docks."

His glare landed on the men responsible, his eyes flashing dangerously. "Now, care to explain why I'm hearing about these screw-ups from everyone but you?"

Crippling silence filled the room. One of them nervously tried to stammer out an excuse, his eyes darting from Yoongi to Seokjin and Jungkook then to the rich textured carpet underneath them. Yoongi interrupted him with a swift bang on the table, silencing the weakened protest.

"Excuses, excuses..." he spat, teeth gritted. "You know what, I'm sick and tired of it — tired of the incompetence, tired of the idiocy. How hard is it to do your job and report back to me without making a mess of it? Now is not the time to start pissing me off. I do not have the patience for it."

The harsh light from the chandelier threw Yoongi's furious expression into sharp relief. His fury was palpable, a wave crashing across the room, leaving a biting chill in its wake.

"From now on, any additional failures will not only result in a punishment for you but for the entire family," he declared, deadly calm. Every word dripped with poison. He meant every syllable. "If one of us fails, we all fail. You don't want to imagine how severe the consequences will be."

With that parting shot, he stood. The room snapped to attention, bodies rigid and faces pale. Yoongi left with Jungkook and Seokjin swiftly, their presence leaving behind a palpable tension and gnawing fear that had everyone exchanging worried glances as the door closed.

“Yoongi” Seokjin said as they headed down the hall.

“Yeah, Hyung?” Yoongi said calmer, more timid than just mere minutes ago.

Jungkook could feel the anxiety pouring from Yoongi, something he had never seen in him.

“Don’t you think it’s time for a break? Maybe we should grab a bite to eat on the way home.” Seokjin simply said.

“I’m not all that hungry. If you two would like to eat, then yes we can stop.” Yoongi said finally turning to face the two men.

“You should take care of yourself. You need to.” Jungkook said full of worry for the man he loved and looked up to as a brother.

“I’ll be okay. I’ll rest at home.”

But he didn’t.

You waited up for him all night. Not once did he step into the room after he came in to kiss you. He told you he’d be only an hour but he wasn’t.

He spent the whole night in his office displaying his true feelings. He cried, screamed, and kicked. He felt as if he was on a downward spiral. He didn’t feel safe. He didn’t have his security. He didn’t have his parents or his brothers. Of course, he knew that he had you, Seokjin, and Jungkook but he didn’t want them right now. He wanted nothing more than to be in his mother's arms. Hearing her tell him that everything would be okay while he cried. He wanted to be with his brothers. Seeing how their lives were. If they got married. If they had kids. He wished he and Hoseok were still friends. Just be normal. Or at least how it used to be.

He wished his father didn’t break him the way he did. He wished he could go back to a time when he looked up to his father. The world when in his eyes, he could do no wrong. The world made since then.

Now he doesn’t know which way to go. Who to even talk to?

~~~~~~~~~~

You stood in your shared bathroom, staring at the pregnancy test in your hand. Two lines, pink and clear, stared back at you. A positive result. You couldn't believe it. You had been feeling nauseous and tired for weeks, but you had brushed it off as stress from leaving your job and all the shit that’s been going on. Now you were faced with the truth.

Your mind raced as you tried to process the information. You wanted this. At least you thought you did. You just knew that right now was probably the worst time to even THINK about bringing a baby into this mess. Besides, the idea of being a mother seemed overwhelming and terrifying. Especially when you are in love with someone who has a lot of people out to get him and the ones he loves.

Especially when one of them is his father.

You took a deep breath and tried to calm down. You felt your heart beat out of your chest with worry. You knew Yoongi would do everything he could to make this as easy as possible but you also knew that now was not the best time. He wasn’t ready. You knew you had to figure out what to do. You couldn't just ignore the pregnancy. Whatever you decide to do, you need to do it as soon as possible.

You put the pregnancy test down and ran your fingers through your hair.

At-home pregnancy tests aren’t always 100% and could easily be misread.

You decided you should go to go to the store and grab a few more.

You throw the trash and the test into the trash once you hear your bedroom door open.

“Yn, are you okay?” Yoongi asked knocking on the door softly before opening the door.

You straightened up and nodded, forcing a smile on your face.

“Of course baby. I was just freshening up. Are you okay? You haven’t been to bed yet..” You asked looking at the tired look that painted his face. Yoongi nodded, his voice still hoarse from all the crying, screaming, and drinking he had done all night. “I’m fine baby. I’m going to nap pretty soon.”

You sighed and nodded “ I’m going to run to the store. Do you need anything?” You asked washing your hands.

Yoongi shook his head.

“No, I’m okay. What are you going to the store for? Maybe I can get someone to grab it for you while we’re out.” Yoongi said, pulling you to him with a smile.

You swore you were going to melt in his hands. His hugs always made things feel better. Like there was not one worry in the world. You did the same for him. Everything made sense.

If only that could be the case for you two.

You knew he would be an amazing father.

“No, it’s okay baby. I don’t mind. I’m going to order it on my phone and just pick it up.” You said looking up at him.

Yoongi nodded.

“Okay, baby. Do you want me to drive you there? I don’t mind.” Yoongi said.

You nodded.

“Okay, baby. Let me just grab my purse.” You smiled jogging to the room.

That’s when Yoongi noticed the bathroom light on, prompting him to go to turn it off. His eyes trailed to the bathroom trash. He noticed the pregnancy test and its wrappers. His mind started to spiral but he didn’t want to be obvious.

“Are you ready baby?” You asked grabbing his hand. He smiles and nods.

“Yeah, let me grab my keys. Wait for me downstairs.”

You nodded and kissed his cheek before heading out of the room.

Yoongi's eyes dropped down back down to the trash.

After you went downstairs, Yoongi stepped into the bathroom and closed the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a few minutes, Yoongi met you downstairs. His arms wrapped around your waist, his hands comfortably resting on your stomach which instantly sent shivers down your spine. You moved from his hold and turned to him. “Are you okay?” You asked.

“Are you okay?” he asked. His question to your question made you…uneasy.

“Of course. I’m fine. Why?” you asked.

“I’m just a little worried. It’s been a little over a week and we haven’t heard anything yet about the results. Have you gotten anything?” Yoongi asked.

“N-no. I haven’t heard anything yet..” you stuttered holding onto your purse.

Something is telling Yoongi that you already know the answer but he didn’t want to press you nor did he want you to think he was angry. He just nodded.

“Okay. Just when you get the results, tell me. As soon as you get them.” He said sternly.

You nodded but he pulled you closer to him and lifted your chin, kissing your lips.

Yoongi looked at you, holding your waist and his eyes started to water. You opened your mouth to say something but Yoongi shook his head.

“I’m going to protect you and our child if there is one. You don’t need to worry about that. Just please…don’t start hiding from me,” he started, his voice shaking softly “Be honest with me..are you pregnant?”

Your heart fell to your stomach and your hands started to sweat. Tears started to swell in your eyes as he continued to look at you with the most loving look and gently rubbed your chin. He knew the answer, quite frankly, he knew the answer days ago. And he knew the hospital had already sent them to you. Jungkook was able to get into the system and email him the results. He instructed Jungkook not to read them, he knew he was already invading your privacy. He didn’t want anyone else to.

“Come into my office.”

Yoongi’s eyes turned dark as he lowered his hands and gripped your wrist softly. He led you to his office which caught Seokjin off guard as he walked in.

“Yoongi” he mumbled to himself. “Please don’t do anything stupid.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’ve known for quite some time haven’t you?” Yoongi asked walking around his desk before sitting in his chair. His eyes never left yours. You were terrified. You didn’t think he would hurt you…

But you also didn’t think he’d be a mob boss either.

Your silence answered everything he needed to know.

Yoongi's piercing gaze bore into you, his words like icy daggers slicing through your composure. "Blossom, my love," he drawled, his voice dripping with sadness and worry, "I have eyes everywhere. Everywhere you go, every move you make, I know. Why would you think you could hide this from me for long? Why didn’t you just tell me?"

A bitter chuckle escaped Yoongi's lips as he crossed his legs and settled back in his chair revealing a painful sign, propping his elbow on the desk and resting his face in his palm. "Although I must admit, you're not particularly skilled at the art of deception," he continued, his eyes narrowing. "Your attempts to hide things from me are as clumsy as they are transparent. It’s quite cute. I can admire it."

Your heart pounded in your chest, your breath coming in shallow gasps. You had known that Yoongi was powerful, but the extent of his surveillance had never dawned on you until this moment. The way he can switch his demeanor is concerning for you.

You choked on your words. “Eyes everywhere? W-what does that even mean?”

“It means, anything I want to know? I will find it out whether or not you tell me or I find out on my own” Yoongi said blankly.

“Did you get the test results before me? Why would-”

“Why would you keep your pregnancy away from me?” Yoongi spat.

If you could make yourself disappear, you would. You felt as if you were getting scolded by a principal and you hated it.

He was your BOYFRIEND, not your father.

“I wasn’t keeping it from you, Yoongi” you started but he interrupted you,

“You weren’t telling me either. That’s my child unless it’s not-” You jumped up,

“DON’T-” You took a deep breath trying to control your emotions from spiraling. “Don’t say nonsense Yoongi. I haven’t been with anyone else and you know that”

Yoongi stood to his feet and leaned closer to you, “Then why the fuck did you keep this from me?”

“You’re going through a lot right now. I just didn’t think you could handle one more thing. A life-changing thing. It’s not like we can just throw this away. It’s a fucking baby. A fucking baby in your world of madness. I was trying to be considerate” You said watching him as he walked around his desk and stood over you.

“Considerate? Don’t fucking humor me, Yn.” He chuckled. “No one is considerate in this world, not to me.”

Your face softened. You could see the pain written on his face. He was hurt and you could understand why.

“Yoongi…I didn’t do it to be spiteful or to keep it from you. I just thought it would have been best if I waited.” You said looking up at him. “You have a lot on your plate, I just didn’t think you needed anything else. To be fair I haven’t known that long…”

Yoongi shook his head.

“Although, I can appreciate your efforts,” he starts, “Now is not the time to try to keep things from me. Not now. Not ever.” Yoongi finished. “This would be the worst time in the world.” He whispered.

You looked at him and adverted your gaze from him.

“I can’t handle any more secrets, Blossom…” Yoongi’s voice cracked. “Not anymore.”

Your heart broke into pieces. Seeing an otherwise strong man break like this destroyed you.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you Yoongi…you know that wasn’t my intention. But you don’t get to make comments like that as if I’d ever be with someone else…” You said equally as hurt as he felt right now. Yoongi nodded, disgusted with his comments towards you.

“You’re right…and I’m sorry. I just can’t figure out why you wouldn’t tell me. I know what you said but…this is important to me.” Yoongi said softly. “You are important to me, we are important to me”

You look at him and held his hand, “I know. You are just as important to me. I want the best for us but now we have a baby…”

“You can’t tell anyone,” Yoongi said cutting you from your thoughts.

“I guess I could understand but why not?”

“Because no one can know you’re pregnant. No one.”

Yoongi was serious and you could tell. He refused to let Namjoon or his father even get a hint of an idea that you were pregnant.

As if he didn’t have a better reason, he had to avoid his father at all costs.

“Not even Seokjin, Kai and Jungkook? What have they done?” You asked.

“Especially them. I know they won’t say anything but I don’t even want them to even have an idea.” Yoongi admitted. “Namjoon pulled the rug from right underneath me, I cannot give anyone else another chance to do it.”

You were honestly disappointed by this. This is probably the most normal your life is going to feel.

“You don’t sound too happy about this..” you said sounding defeated. Yoongi pulled you into his arms shaking his head.

“I’m happy. No, I’m very happy. I’m just nervous and I don’t want anyone to know just yet not until I can make sure I can trust them. I have a family to protect now.”

Hearing Yoongi talk like this gave you butterflies. Yoongi would be damned if his father fucked this up for him. You looked up at him with a broken smile and tears filling your eyes.

“I’m scared, Yoongi.” You whispered.

“I am too. I am terrified but we can do this. I believe in us.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next few days, Yoongi was on your ass about everything.

There was nowhere you could go that he didn't know.

It was as if he had a sixth sense, an innate awareness of your whereabouts.

"Blossom, why is it taking you so long to answer your phone?" He inquired, his voice laced with a mixture of concern and impatience.”Do I need to get you another one?”

You were deep asleep in your cozy bed, stirred slightly at the sound of your phone ringing. Groaning softly, you fumbled around for the device, your eyes still heavy with slumber.

"Baby...I was taking a nap. I’m just tired. I'm sorry. I'm not trying to ignore you." you mumbled, voice hoarse with sleep.

Yoongi exhaled a sigh of relief as he heard your voice, chuckling at how cute you sounded. The tension that had been coiling around his heart slowly began to unwind.

"I'm sorry, baby. I just needed to hear your voice." Yoongi said, his voice finally relaxed.

You smiled drowsily, heart melting at the sound of Yoongi's gentle words. You knew that he was constantly worried about you, and although at times it felt too much, you couldn't help but feel touched by his unwavering devotion.

"I love you, Yoongi," you whispered, “I’m okay” your voice soft and tender.

"I love you too, Blossom," Yoongi replied, his heart soaring at the sound of your confession.

In that moment, as you exchanged sweet nothings over the phone, the world around him faded away. All that mattered was the love you shared, a love that defied the boundaries of time and space.

“I’m only a few minutes away,” Yoongi said. “Okay, baby. I’ll wait up for you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yoongi’s mother hasn’t had much to say to Min since everything happened. She has finally lost everything. She lost her family. Her sons and she could hardly stand to even see her husband. She was honestly a shell of a woman.

Her family was everything to her, especially since she didn’t have it growing up.

~~~~~~

“Seo-Yeon”

She looked up at her mother with big beautiful eyes and the brightest smile the world had ever seen.

Seo-yeon loved her mother. More than anything, only after her father disappeared. She spent most of her time with her mother since her father left the family to pursue another one a few years ago.

She grew up as a daddy’s girl at heart. Seo-yeon was very close with her mother but her father was everything to her.

He would take her to the park, take her for ice cream, he would even buy her random gifts he would see as he would head home from work. He loved his family but he couldn’t help falling for a coworker.

What seemed normal one day quickly went to shit.

Now it’s just her and her mother. Trying to live a normal life.

“Are you ready to go to your father’s?” Seo-yeon’s mother asked. Seo-yeon’s smile fell as she slowly shook her head. “No” she mumbled.

Seo-yeon’s mother sighed, dropped her bag, and sat next to her, wrapping her arm around the small girl. “He misses you”

“He doesn’t” Seo-yeon shook her head.

“He does. He loves you so much. It’s just harder for him since he has a new baby. You are a big sister, you always wanted to be one.” her mother tried to cheer her up.

Seo-yeon just nodded and suppressed her feelings.

Like she always did 

[cherienymphe]

White Lines & White Knights

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, pr*stitution, power imbalance, classism, mentions of death, jealousy, humiliation, revenge p*rn, drug dealer!Rafe, drug use, Pogue!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

summary: You and Rafe are using each other until you decide that's not what you want anymore, and the spoiled rich kid will do whatever it takes to have his expensive toy back in his bed.

⭑

Your door shut behind you with a resounding click, and once in the comfort of your home, you took the time to decompress. You took advantage of your much needed reprieve, the back of your head grazing the wood as you allowed your eyes to fall closed. Your heart was still beating wildly in your chest, and you wondered if a day would come where it ever wouldn’t. After all, this wasn’t exactly “new” anymore…

It had been five months since you buried your mom, five months since you discovered the mountain of debt she’d done an impressive job of hiding from you, and five months since you thought you’d be homeless on the street in less than one. In two weeks, you’d dealt with a loss you didn’t think you’d have to for at least another forty years or so and took on the kind of responsibility you didn’t think you’d have to for at least another three.

Your mom died 152 days ago…

…and you’d started fucking Rafe Cameron less than a month later.

You liked to pretend to not know why you slept with Kildare’s prime rich boy that fateful Saturday night, but you were far more self aware than you wanted to be. Even if you weren’t, it wasn’t exactly some mysterious string of decisions that lead to being tangled up in the sheets with Sarah’s asshole of an older brother. You didn’t need to pay someone to diagnose you.

You were grieving.

It was really just that simple, and the monetary stress on top of that drove you to find comfort in strange drinks and hard drugs. To this day you still didn’t know if Rafe just happened to be at the right place at the right time or if he heard whispers about John B.’s best friend snorting pills and getting shit faced when her usual crowd was looking the other way, but either way, the stuffy Kook clearly saw an opportunity to kill several birds with one stone.

“First two lines are free,” he’d told you that night, the bass of the music downstairs muffled by the expensive walls of some girl’s house.

You remembered how you’d chuckled, drunkenly shaking your head.

“Well, two lines is all I’m doing, I guess,” you’d murmured, throwing your hands up.

Rafe’s smirk had been cruel, a mocking glint in his blue eyes.

“What?” he’d dragged out, head tilted. “Spent all that life insurance money, already?”

Any other time and Rafe’s insensitivity might’ve upset you, but at the time you’d been drunk out of your mind and looking for more ways to forget the sudden absence in your life.

“I can’t imagine why Sarah hates you,” you’d sarcastically replied, approaching the impressive desk and leaning over to inhale a line.

You wiped your nose as you straightened, lashes fluttering as you ignored the feeling of Rafe’s gaze on you.

“I’ll be lucky if I even have a house to live in next week.”

The words had come out slurred, accompanied by a light chuckle, and deep down you’d felt the flutter of stress that you’d been desperately ignoring for weeks. You’d quickly snorted the other line, closing your eyes for a moment.

“Turns out my mom was skilled at hiding more than just illnesses…”

You remembered the silence—from both you and Rafe—and how in that moment you’d allowed yourself a solid four seconds of lingering on the reality of your predicament. In those four seconds, your eyes had watered and your lips had trembled and your throat had tightened, and after those four seconds, you were turning to Rafe with a haughty smile.

“Guess you won’t be finding a new client in me, huh?” you’d wondered with a shrug, finding a seat on the desk.

Rafe’s blue gaze had been unreadable as he eyed you, sitting in the chair at the desk, legs spread as he ran his eyes over you—slowly and in a way you didn’t hate at the time. You hadn’t been able to tell what he was thinking, although looking back, you wondered how it wasn’t so obvious to you then. Maybe because it was just too cruel of a thought, and while it was no secret Rafe was a spoiled asshole, you had never once thought of him as cruel.

Rafe had merely shrugged.

“There’s plenty of fish in the sea,” he’d slowly said, the corner of his pink lips curving upwards just a tad. “Besides…”

You’d watched him stand, rounding the desk to come and tower over you where you sat.

“I like to think of myself as a pretty ethical kind of guy…”

You’d started to snort at that before his gaze met yours again, and you found yourself swallowing whatever you were about to say. You hadn’t done a thing when Rafe reached up to touch your arm, the feel of his finger so light. You hadn’t wanted to acknowledge the way your heart skipped a beat at both his close proximity and the change in atmosphere. You hadn’t been able to ignore—however—the heat that settled in the pit of your stomach.

“...and I’ve been known to meet people halfway. Accept whatever they can offer…”

You remembered your internal conflict that night.

You’d been drunk and high and sad…not stupid. You knew exactly what Rafe was insinuating to you, and you’d struggled with the idea of really sleeping with Rafe Cameron for more drugs. The man was far from unattractive, sure that if drugs weren’t involved you’d still consider sleeping with him. If you’d believed in any of that, you’d imagine that your mom was turning over in her grave. At the time though, you hadn’t been quite sure as to what you believed in, so when he took your silence for consent, leaning in and touching your nose with his…

You hadn’t stopped him when he closed the distance.

You hadn’t even known whose house you were at, only internally apologizing to them for having sex on their expensive desk. You didn’t know if it was the drugs or the alcohol or simply Rafe Cameron, but it was easily the best sex you’d ever had in your life, and at one point you’d really considered how much better it could possibly be to fuck him without the condom.

You had no idea that you’d eventually find out.

Once dressed, you’d walked home with a small bag of pills and a satisfied grin. You knew that your friends would host some kind of intervention if they ever found out, but all you’d been able to focus on was the simple fact that fucking Rafe Cameron for a little coke and pills wasn’t sounding like the worst idea. Of course, if you’d known that you’d eventually start fucking him for your livelihood, you might’ve made different choices that night.

You pressed your hand to your face and pushed away from the door, eager to start the shower and scrub the stench of him off of you. Per routine, you took the money out of your pocket before getting undressed, eyeing the wad of one hundreds that now sat on your nightstand. Two grand was nothing to someone like him, but to someone like you, it made all the difference in the world.

…and Rafe knew that.

He’d known that when he handed you a thousand dollars one night, the coke in your system just starting to hit. You’d looked up at him from where you sat in confusion, hesitantly wrapping your hand around the money as you alternated between eyeing it and eyeing him. You hadn’t known how to feel about it, especially since it had only been moments ago when he was inside of you…and there he was handing you a grand in hundreds.

“Don’t look like that,” Rafe had chuckled, walking to his dresser in search of a shirt. “You know you need the money.”

He wasn’t wrong…and that was the problem.

Unless you hit a lucky streak in life, you’d always need the money, and that was exactly why you were in the predicament you were in—four months later and putting up with the monster that was Rafe Cameron just to keep a roof over your head. The thought brought tears to your eyes, positive now that your mom could see you and was beyond disappointed in you. 

Her disappointment could only be outdone by your own.

You were in a situation that you couldn’t get out of, on the verge of ending this arrangement so many times before asking yourself what better way could you pay your mom’s debts and survive? It wasn’t easy money by far, but it was fast money, and it was the kind of money that would take months to make at whatever low paying job you’d find around Outer Banks. Someone like you rarely got hired at the country club or working for some rich snob who wiped their ass with the kind of money you needed.

Rafe knew this too.

Tears kissed your eyes as you scrubbed your skin raw, wishing that you could scrub away the nasty bruise right along with the sweat and grime. You winced every time you touched it, cursing the blond and feeling one of those moments where you considered blocking him and moving on from this pathetic era in your life for good.

Fucking Rafe Cameron for drugs didn’t seem like a bad idea at the time, fucking him for money seemed like an even better one…until that entitled attitude started to extend to the woman he was paying good money to have access to. You remembered the first time you opposed something he wanted to do, the way in which he ignored you, the way he merely pressed your face into the pillow to shut you up.

It was the first time you felt truly icky about this whole situation.

Not even just icky.

…but afraid.

“I don’t pay you to tell me what you will and won’t do in bed,” he’d chuckled at you like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

You’d still been trembling and wiping mascara from your cheeks.

“I pay you because I want to fuck you,” he’d slowly whispered to you, leaning in. “...and you let me because you don’t want to be sleeping on the beach.”

He’d held your gaze for what felt like too long, impressing upon you the true dynamic of this arrangement, and you remembered the unease that had festered in your gut that day. Maybe all the drugs and alcohol hadn’t allowed you to fully look at this arrangement for what it was and the power imbalance here, but you had for the first time that day, and you hadn’t liked it.

You liked it even less now, wrapping the towel around you and wondering how you were ever going to get out of this predicament you’d put yourself into.

“My family’s going out of town for the weekend,” the familiar blond mumbled to you as he inhaled a familiar powdery substance off the back of his hand. “Pack a bag when you get home, and I’ll pick you up tomorrow night.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at that, huffing instead.

“I can’t spend the whole weekend on Figure 8,” you told him. “I have plans.”

Rafe nodded, and you hated the smile that danced across his lips.

“Okay, uh, be ready at 8, I don’t want-.”

“Rafe, I’m serious,” you cut him off, shrugging. “I can’t stay at your house all weekend.”

You watched him watch you, slowly swiping his tongue between his lips as a frown started to take over. His dirty blond hair kissed his brows, and the longer the silence stretched, the more nervous you grew. You watched as Rafe glanced away, seemingly deep in thought before those baby blues of his rested on you, much colder than they were a few seconds ago.

“What the hell am I paying you for?” he whispered.

The question was rhetorical, and you swallowed.

“Rafe…I’ve barely seen my friends in months. I finally made plans to meet up with them for more than five minutes and-.”

“...and whose fault is that?” he shrugged.

You frowned at him.

“Nobody told you to go off on a bender when your mom kicked the bucket…” you blinked at his callousness. “Maybe you should’ve been finding comfort in your friends instead of drugs and vodka…and me.”

He finished his sentence with a soft—and yet cruel—smile.

“I pay you good money—great money even!—to be available when I want you to be, and unless you’ve found some other rich asshole to open your legs for, which I doubt…be ready tomorrow at 8.”

He was standing, now, looking down at you where you sat on the bed. The harsh reminder of your roles here had you looking away, and Rafe turned away when he rightfully took your silence as confirmation. You stared at the wall for a few moments before turning to stare at his back, thinking to yourself that this couldn’t go on much longer. Whether it took 1 or 5 jobs, you couldn’t keep relying on Rafe Cameron forever.

What was once a weekly occurrence had turned into something entirely other, and it hadn’t bothered you so much when your mother’s death was still so fresh and you were seeking solace in the worst coping mechanisms known to man—including isolation. Now, however, you were waking up to the choices you’d made and you hated the feeling of being inebriated and being surrounded by people you barely knew.

You hated being away from your friends.

“I didn’t even know you’d gotten a job,” John B. said to you hours later, looking disappointed but understanding. “JJ’s gonna be real disappointed. He’s been talking all week about having you try some new weed he got.”

You gave a light laugh at that, a pang in your chest at how much you missed doing stupid shit with them.

“Yeah,” you sadly said. “The world—and bills—doesn’t stop just because my mom died.”

The brunette grew quiet at that, worriedly eyeing you now.

“You doing okay…?”

You sighed at that, looking out over the yard of The Chateau, fiddling with your fingers as you thought of a certain blond.

“I’ve been better, but…I’ve been worse too.”

Your answer was honest, and you briefly wondered what John B. would think if he knew just how bad ‘worse’ had been. You didn’t think any of them would hate you if they knew the full extent of just how far you’d fallen, but you knew they’d have a hard time wrapping their head around it. The drugs and alcohol were one thing, but Rafe Cameron was entirely another. The man was the worst example of a Kook if there was one, representing every bad trait attributed to them.

Your friends would not understand you essentially sacrificing your self respect for money and drugs.

Sometimes you didn’t understand it either. 

Most especially when Rafe had his hands around your neck.

He picked you up at 8 on the dot Friday night—a man of his word if nothing else—and less than a hour later you were bent over his father’s desk as he pounded into you. Your head was hanging off of it, fighting hard to not scrape your nails against the dark mahogany. It wasn’t the first time Rafe fucked you on Ward’s desk, and you doubted that it would be the last time. There’d even been a few rare occasions when he fucked you in the older man’s bed, and you didn’t know what complex the blond had that fueled these decisions, but you weren’t a psychologist so you figured it wasn’t anything to concern yourself with.

Despite the tight grip on your throat, a choked moan managed to escape every time Rafe pushed his cock into you. Sweat made his skin glisten, and you were sure you fared no better. His hair wasn’t so neat, now, and you had the stray thought that you preferred it that way. Rafe being so far from ugly definitely made this arrangement easier to swallow down at times, but other times it just made you angry.

How was it fair that someone seemingly had everything, including the big dick to match?

Rafe walked around like he was God’s gift to the world, possessing one of the most rotten personalities you’d ever had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of, and he seemed to be rewarded with it with everything the average person could only dream about. As if any of that wasn’t enough, you practically rewarded him with even more by essentially telling him he could do whatever he wanted so long as the price was right.

It made you disgusted with yourself at times.

When he pressed a hand to your stomach, hips slowing to a pace that made your breath hitch, you squeezed your eyes shut. In the quiet office, the sound of his cock disappearing between your folds was loud, the wet noise telling you that there’d no doubt be a mess left on Ward’s desk when this was all said and done. You heard Rafe curse, and you didn’t have the energy to lift your head from where it hung off the desk.

“...and to think,” he panted from above you. “You were going to pass this up to sit around with those dirty Pogues.”

At this, you did attempt to sit up, a hand against his chest and one on the desk as he thrusted into you.

“Those ‘dirty Pogues’ are my friends,” you forced out, lashes fluttering. “...and clearly you forget that I’m one too.”

Rafe merely chuckled at that, perfect teeth winking at you as he grinned.

“Yeah, but you’re my dirty Pogue so it’s a little different.”

His words had your frown deepening, disgust filling your chest at the way he talked about you while literally fucking you. Completely turned off, you turned your head away, attempting to separate yourself from him. That haughty laugh reached your ears, and to your dismay, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

“What…?” he lazily drawled. “You don’t like the sound of that?”

“You’re being an asshole, get off of me…”

He jerked his hips against you, making you gasp, and you squirmed in his arms as you fought to get away. Rafe leaned in to harshly nip his teeth at your cheek, his movements growing rough, causing the desk to shake.

“I’ve spent too much money on you to not say whatever the hell I want,” he evenly said. “So, yeah, at this point, I’ll confidently say I practically own you.”

Tears kissed your eyes at the disgusting words, and fed up with your resistance, Rafe merely placed a hand between your breasts before harshly shoving you back down. You winced at the action, but you had no time to fully linger on it as Rafe started to roughly plunge his cock into you, the sound of his skin slapping against yours reaching your ears. He wouldn’t allow you to sit up, both of his hands wrapped around your wrists now as he leaned over you.

This felt too reminiscent of the time he’d pressed your face into the bed, telling you to relax as he pressed the head of his cock just above where your folds were. You recalled the uncomfortable feeling and the tears that stained the pillow as he slowly fucked you in a place no one ever had before. The deja vu of it all had your mind wandering, eyes defocusing as you just waited for it to be over. It seemed like Rafe’s grunts sounded from above you forever, and when he finally came onto your stomach with a low moan, you didn’t move for some time.

You were slow to sit up as he got dressed, trembling as you steaded yourself for what you were about to say.

“I don’t wanna do this anymore.”

The words came out whispered, but in the quiet study, you might as well have yelled them. Rafe didn’t acknowledge you, and you knew it wasn’t because he hadn’t heard you. Frustrated with his refusal to take you seriously, you hopped off of Ward’s desk, angrily grabbing your clothes.

“I’m serious, Rafe. After this weekend…this is done,” you continued, voice firmer, now. “Don’t call me or text me or worry about any more money. I can’t rely on you forever anyway.”

By now, Rafe was actually listening to you, and you avoided his gaze as you got dressed. His silence was loud, and when you were finally decent again, only then did you lift your gaze to glance at him. His visage was unreadable, and after some time, he merely blinked at you.

“If I remember correctly, per your own words, your mom had enough debt ‘to file for bankruptcy’.”

His words made you sharply inhale, and you bit your tongue as he ran his hands through his hair in a poor attempt to tame the damp locks.

“Don’t ruin your life just because you’re pissed at me,” he coldly added.

You crossed your arms over your chest, pulling your lip between your teeth.

“Personal feelings aside, I can’t rely on you forever, Rafe. That’s just the truth. I have to figure something out eventually, and there’s no time like the present,” your voice shook as he fixed you with an unnerving stare. “I miss my friends, and I don’t want to be the sad, damaged girl running to Rafe Cameron just so I don’t feel anything anymore.”

The blond followed your lead, folding his arms over his own chest as he leaned against the wall, staring you down with that annoying crooked smile.

“...and where exactly do you plan to find a job that pays you what I do?”

“There are jobs, Rafe. I’ll find one.”

You didn’t appreciate his tone nor the look he was giving you as he studied you. He was looking down on you, and yes while that wasn’t exactly an unusual occurrence, this time was different. He was looking down his nose like he didn’t believe in you, like he expected you to be crawling back to him in no time, begging him to fuck you again.

After a few moments, that crooked smile curved even more, and you didn’t miss the glint in his eyes.

“Well, I wish you luck…”

His voice didn’t match the words that came out of his mouth, and his gaze most certainly didn’t.

“I literally called this morning and was told over the phone that you all were hiring...and now I get here, and I’m being told you’re not…?”

You tried to keep the skepticism out of your tone, but your frustration at your predicament was bubbling up and threatening to be unleashed on the lone man before you. The inside of the country club was practically empty—a slow Tuesday—and you briefly glanced around at the two staffers in the whole room. Sure, you could write it off to a slow day that didn’t need a full staff, but something in you told you that it was more than that.

You didn’t believe the man in front of you.

“Look, I don’t know what else to tell you, miss. Whoever you talked to got it wrong. I’m sorry for the miscommunication on our end,” was his only explanation.

You didn’t dare bother to point out that both he and whoever you’d spoken with on the phone sounded damn near identical.

When it became obvious that this conversation was over, you turned away with a small huff, breezing outside to a familiar dark car. Kie was standing by it, arms uncomfortably crossed over her chest, glaringly obvious that she’d rather be anywhere but here despite being from ‘here’.

“Well…?” she wondered as you got closer.

“They’re not hiring,” you mumbled as you slid into the passenger seat.

She joined you inside the vehicle a moment later, a frown on her face.

“...but you called.”

“I know.”

There was a beat of silence before she scoffed, reaching for her door handle.

“If this is because you aren’t some rich snob looking for play money…”

She trailed off when you spoke up.

“No, I don’t…I don’t think it’s that,” you stopped her. “Let’s just go.”

She eyed you for a few moments, frown deepening.

“Are you sure? Y/N, this is like the fourth place you’ve been to today,” she pointed out. “...and I don’t want to add my stress to your stress, but it’s kind of fucked up.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell her that it wasn’t possible for you to be any more stressed than you already were, simply signaling for her to drive. You could feel her eyes periodically landing on you as she did, and you chewed on the inside of your cheek, wondering why the universe had it out for you.

It had been weeks since you’d last seen or talked to Rafe, weeks since you ended your little arrangement, and weeks since you’d had a consistent source of income. It wasn’t a pretty nor respectable way to make money, but you’d been making money nonetheless. However, you couldn’t find it in you to continue sacrificing your self respect to keep sleeping with Rafe Cameron. You’d also been telling the truth when you told him you didn’t want to be this messed up sad thing anymore.

You had long let go of the drugs and cut back on the drinking, and now you’d dropped Rafe too.

You’d had hope…but now it was dwindling.

No one would hire you. In fact, no one had even allowed you far enough to officially apply just to get a foot into an interview. It was always the same. You’d call ahead so you didn’t waste your time, they’d tell you they were looking for people, and then the moment you actually showed up and introduced yourself, it was an entirely different story. It didn’t make any sense to you, and the thought of ever proving Rafe right made you want to be sick.

“How bad is it?” JJ asked you a few days later, the both of you away and isolated in some corner of some guy’s party.

You looked down at the weak drink in your hand, contemplating on whether or not to be honest.

“It’s…manageable.”

A whopper of a lie.

“...then why don’t I believe you? Come on, Y/N, it’s me. I know your mom wasn’t the best when it came to funds, and when she died…” he scoffed. “You weren’t exactly in any shape to march down to anyone’s job and fight for work just to keep things afloat.”

You looked away at that, throat tight.

“I’m honestly shocked you’ve kept it up for this long.”

If only he knew…

You felt his gaze on you as you wondered just how truthful you should be, but you reminded yourself that this was JJ. If he knew the full extent of everything, he’d be likely to rob a bank. Nevermind the fact that it would just make him ask more questions, like how you’d even managed to keep things afloat all this time. You didn’t think you could lie to him, and you didn’t think you could handle being on the receiving end of whatever look JJ would undoubtedly give you if you told him you’d been sleeping with Rafe to pay your bills.

You didn’t know if it was fortunate or unfortunate that the subject of your thoughts walked through the doors to prevent this conversation from continuing. His presence shouldn’t have shocked you—the party was pretty mixed with people from all sides of the island after all—but it still gave you pause, and JJ noticed.

“This asshole,” you heard the blond murmur, rolling his eyes.

You were inclined to agree, and you shrunk in on yourself with your drink, unable to ignore the knowledge that Rafe was at the same party you were at. In the weeks you’d been free of him, you’d had time to really ponder on your dalliance, and while you’d long accepted your hand in your own life choices, it was now hard to ignore Rafe’s own opportunistic choices in the situation. Sure, yes, you fucked him for money…

…but what did it say about him that he was perfectly happy to enter an arrangement in which he kept you off of the streets so long as you opened your legs for him?

If he was a good guy he’d just…keep you off the streets.

Like JJ would if you ever told him the truth.

You’d just decided to stop hiding in the bathroom when you came face to face with the man himself, heart skipping a beat at his presence. He was leaning against the wall next to the door, and you had the sneaking suspicion he hadn’t been waiting for his turn.

“How’s the job search going?” was how he greeted you, and you hadn’t been able to keep the ire off of your face.

He softly laughed to himself at that, nodding.

“I figured you’d look a little something like that.”

“Fuck you,” you breathed, and Rafe frowned, tilting his head to the side.

“You were, remember? And then you stopped…and that’s how you found yourself back at square one,” he reminded you.

The music traveled from downstairs into the dimly lit hallway, and you looked away from him just as he heaved a tired sigh.

“Do I need to apologize for calling you and your friends dirty Pogues? Is that what this is about?” he lazily wondered.

You didn’t dignify that with a response, and when you lifted your gaze, Rafe was rolling his eyes. He fixed you with a look, reaching up to touch your hair with a tsk.

“Come on, Y/N. You need me…”

He leaned in.

“We both know it, and you’re never going to find a job in this town.”

“You don’t know that,” you fired back, slapping his hand away as you took a step away from him.

Almost instantaneously, Rafe’s entire expression morphed, and you swallowed at the shadow that passed over his features. His pink lips pressed together, and those blue eyes hardened in a way you’d never been on the receiving end of. You watched his nostrils flare.

“Oh, trust me, I know.”

The combination of his tone and his expression and his words gave you pause, and your brows pulled together as you stared at him. For a moment, the music in the house faded into the background as Kie’s words came to your mind. ‘It’s kind of messed up’, she’d said, and while you hadn’t given that much thought to the statement then…you certainly were now.

“What did you do?” you shakily asked the blond, skin growing cold.

Rafe didn’t answer right away, and when he did, it was a lie anyway.

“I don’t know what you mean,” was all he said, one brow raised.

You felt tears kiss your eyes, and you felt silly for not putting the pieces together earlier. You didn’t know how, but somehow, Rafe had a hand in your lack of employment. It seemed exactly like something he’d do, but the only thing you couldn’t understand was why. Why do it? Just to see you fail? Just to feel like he’d won?

“Look, this little rebellious act…it’s cute and amusing and all…” he shrugged off with a small smile. “...but it’s silly. We both know you’re just going to end up right back under me.”

“You’re such an asshole,” you hissed, moving past him.

“Yeah, and you knew that when you let me fuck you for drugs on some guy’s desk,” he threw at you, making you flinch and slow down. 

“I was going through things then, Rafe! I didn’t…” you huffed a sigh, turning to glower at him. “I didn’t care about things I most definitely should have. It’s different now.”

You threw your hands up.

“I’m different, now, and I don’t want to keep sacrificing my dignity and self respect just to keep a roof over my head. I don’t want to sleep with someone who views me and anyone like me as beneath him. It disgusts me, and unlike you, I have no interest in sleeping with people who I claim disgust me.”

You watched Rafe’s lip curl over his teeth.

“Yeah, that’s real respectable and noble and all, but I wonder how noble it’ll feel when you’re being evicted,” he spat at you, moving closer. “You’re not getting a job in this town, that I can promise you, so you keep this up for as long as you want to, but we both know how this ends.”

You leaned away from the finger in your face.

“I fucking own you,” he bit out, roughly grabbing your arm and yanking you close despite your resistance. “You named your price, and I paid it-.”

“For a service! Not a person,” you harshly whispered.

Rafe’s chuckle was cold as he stared you down, perfect teeth winking at you.

“You think you’re the only girl in Outer Banks willing to spread her legs for some money? You think I’d have to pay any of them half of what I paid you?” your stomach dropped at his words. “I’ve been a lot more generous than you realize.”

He roughly let you go, practically shoving you away from him, and you stumbled. He eyed you with an expression filled with promise, and when you turned away to finally find your friends and hopefully leave, you descended the stairs on unsteady legs.

You pushed against Rafe’s arm and chest as he held your chin in a tight grip. The vehicle you were next to hid you both from view, everyone on the beach none the wiser to what was happening in the parking lot. Your feet tripped over one another as he forced you back, trapping you between him and the metal contraption.

“Is that what you came up with? You think that pathetic Pogue is going to pay your bills? Give you a place to stay when that eviction notice is taped to your door?”

“Get…off…of me,” you snarled, finally shoving him away with difficulty.

Your breathing was heavy as you glared at the blond, lips trembling and heart racing at the downright evil glint in his blue eyes. You glanced over his shoulder for any way to get away from him, your frustration growing as he moved closer.

“Color me curious, but is it somehow more dignified to fuck someone like JJ instead of me?”

The jealousy dripping from his every word threw you for a loop, and you weren’t in the right headspace to even linger on how strange that was.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but we’re not like that,” you drunkenly choked out. “I don’t know why you feel like I need to answer to you about my personal choices.”

It had only been thirty minutes ago that you were dancing with your friends. JJ—ever the flirt—had gotten a bit handsy, but it was nothing unusual. He could get handsy with a tree, and you’d merely smiled at the behavior, ignorant to the heated gaze that was hyper focused on you. You hadn’t even realized he’d been following you when you went to get a drink from Hayward’s truck.

“Butt out of my life already. You’ve already done enough,” you hissed at him, moving to get past him when he stopped you.

“We’re not done talking-.”

His words were interrupted by your hand, the sound of the slap echoing in your ears, and he’d just harshly pushed you against the car at your back when a familiar voice interrupted you both.

“Get off of her!”

Kie was suddenly there, helping you in shoving him away, and she looked at Rafe like he’d lost his mind—like she’d bore witness to an even sinister side to him. The blond didn’t seem all that fazed by her presence, barely sparing her a glance as his jaw clenched, his eyes on you. Clearly he felt that whatever he was contemplating wasn’t worth it, because without another word—but not without a final scoff—he made his way back to the party on the beach.

Kie wrapped her arms around you when you started to cry.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

What a loaded question, and you realized that the truth was just on the edge of your tongue. Unable to stop yourself, you threw your arms around her, collapsing under the weight of all your choices and what had led you to make them.

“Kie,” you started, voice trembling in her ear. “I have to tell you something.”

If she was horrified by the truth, she didn’t show it much. You could tell she was shocked as the words tumbled from your lips, her brown eyes stricken and face draining of color. You didn’t know what bothered her more—the drugs, the prostitution, or that both involved Rafe Cameron. As it turns out, it was none of those things.

“Why didn’t…why didn’t you let us help you?” she tearfully wondered, looking between your eyes. “We know how hard it’s been for you, and we wanted to be there for you, but you…you just disappeared. You barely came around, and John B. heard things, but he didn’t want to believe them.”

She whispered that last part, and your chest ached at the thought of your friends hearing about your out of character behavior but feeling powerless to stop it, accepting it as part of your grief.

“Rafe’s a demented asshole,” she finally spoke on the elephant in the room. “...and we won’t let him win, okay?”

There was conviction in Kie’s voice, the kind of conviction that made you want to believe her, and so you nodded at her words.

She helped you straighten, wiping your face and taking you back to the party, quietly promising you that she wouldn’t say anything about any of this to the guys. She stuck to you for the rest of the night, and a week later, she made good on her promise, her parents shaking your hand as they welcomed you to their staff.

“We could always use the extra hands,” Mrs. Carrera told you one Friday evening. “It gets crazy busy, especially on the weekends.”

All the noise in the restaurant only validated her statement.

You’d been working at The Wreck for a week, and while it was nothing like what Rafe had been paying you, it was a job. It was a means of earning your own money that didn’t involve lowering yourself to the likes of Rafe Cameron. It was grueling, sure, and you sometimes wondered if it was truly worth the money, but then you’d think of the alternative, and you’d decide that it was worth something and that’s what mattered.

You hadn’t been paying that much attention when you approached your last table for the night, looking up from the apron at your waist and stopping in your tracks.

“Hey, I didn’t know you worked here too,” Topper said, a fairly neutral greeting.

Topper may have been just as much of an asshole as his friends, but he at least played nice for the public. Your gaze traveled around the table, quickly looking away when it connected with a familiar blue.

“It’s…a fairly new gig,” you finally said, getting your notepad ready.

“Hey, if you’re going to use your friends for anything, might as well use them to become a productive member of society,” he told you, his tone now making you frown.

Opting to ignore the comment, you asked them what they wanted. You didn’t make eye contact with Rafe when he gave you his order, hand unsteady as you wrote it down. When you left them to go and get their drinks, you weren’t surprised to hear the scrape of a chair behind you. You were focused on rounding the counter, reaching for some clean glasses.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

You didn’t forget your last encounter with the rich blond, tempted to ignore his presence altogether, but you were unfortunate enough to know how Rafe operated. Pausing in your movements, you turned to look at him, not surprised at all by the unhappy look on his face.

“I’m working, Rafe. What does it look like?”

You eyed the way his jaw ticked, finger gently tapping against the counter as he simply…stared you down. You glanced away, realizing that he didn’t have any power over you anymore. No, you weren’t completely out of the woods, but you had a secured source of income, and you’d happily struggle and scrape over sleeping with Rafe ever again.

“Go find some other struggling girl to take advantage of,” you finally said to him, grabbing their drinks and making your way to their table without a backwards glance.

Working at The Wreck was hard work, and no matter how many shifts you covered and how many tips you got, it was still long and hard work for half the money Rafe had ever paid you. You knew this when Kie came to you about the job, but on the other side of it, you were so beyond grateful for it. You were still stressed, of course, your monetary problems not going away anytime soon, but it was the normal stress of the average working twenty-something.

It wasn’t the kind of worry that came from a violent and abusive lover.

Rafe had been by the restaurant a few times since that day, and each time was more nerve-wracking than the last. Sometimes you served him, sometimes you didn’t, but it didn’t really matter because his gaze always found its way to you either way. On the days when Kie worked too, she’d ask you if you wanted her to do something about him, but you always declined.

After all, what reason would you have her give to her parents for kicking out the son of Ward Cameron who—to their knowledge—hadn’t done anything to warrant it?

Maybe you should’ve listened to Kie though. While you didn’t know if that would’ve changed things, you at least would have felt better about attempting to do something. Perhaps it was the mere sight of watching you work—watching you earn money independent of him—that made him snap, made him drop all pretenses completely. Barring him from the restaurant while you were there might’ve triggered some out of sight, out of mind response. It might’ve forced him to slowly get over whatever this thing was that he had about you.

It might have…

…and it also might not have done shit. Perhaps nothing would’ve changed, and you still would’ve found yourself tearfully staring at Kie’s mom as you took off your apron for the last time.

It was a normal Saturday when the texts and emails came through. The busiest day of the week, the most packed the restaurant ever would be for the next six days, and you’d been placing some fries down in front of some family’s kid when the noise in the restaurant…changed. You hadn’t been able to pinpoint how it changed, but if you did your best, it was like the chatters went from excitement about their food or whatever happened during the week to something else entirely.

One single thing that everyone was talking about.

You weren’t getting paid to mind your patrons’ business, but you started to think differently about that when the people at the table you were next to started to heavily eye you. The whole restaurant was loud with hushed chatter, so you couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the glances between the phones in their hands and you had you frowning.

You were slowly glancing around—realizing that that table wasn’t the only one—when you were yanked by your arm off the floor.

“What are you doing? What’s going on?” you worriedly wondered the moment Kie had you hidden from view.

The look on her face was hard to read, but her parted lips and wide eyes told you that she was horrified. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, seemingly unable to get the words out before slamming it shut, swallowing. The combination of her expression, her silence, and the lack of silence out there had a ball of dread forming deep in your gut.

“Kie,” you softly said. “What…what’s wrong?”

It took her a moment to speak.

“It’s Rafe,” she softly said.

Your confusion only grew, still not quite understanding. 

“What happened? Is he bothering you? Did…he do something to you?” you hesitantly asked, fearful that your former tormentor had turned his sights onto your friend.

“Not to me.”

That simple sentence started to put the pieces together, and you turned your face towards the front of the restaurant, recalling the stares and whispers and listening to the excited chatter. Your skin grew cold, goosebumps erupting all over you, and that dread was long gone. It was instead replaced by nausea.

“He sent everyone something…”

“No,” you heard yourself whisper.

“...a video.”

You turned to her with wide eyes, shaking your head in disbelief. Glancing down, you caught sight of her phone in her hand, and before Kie could stop you, you’d snatched it out of her grip. You moved out of her reach as she extended her arm, desperately trying to protect you, but it was too late.

You felt like you were weighed down by bricks as you stared at the two familiar faces on the screen.

It had to have been taken months ago, during one of the first few times you’d slept with him. You both were in Ward’s bedroom, and you remembered the day all too well, recalling the feel of his palm striking your skin and his voice in your ear before pulling your head down to his lip. Of course, it was that one and not one of the ones where he’d held you down and forced you to take his thrusts.

Your hand was empty, not even realizing when Kie had taken it back, simply staring into space at the memory of what was on that screen.

“Y/N, when my parents find out—and they’re going to find out—they…”

Her words died in the air at the sound of footsteps behind you, and you flinched when you heard a familiar voice call your name. Mrs. Carerra didn’t sound happy, and her expression fared no better when you turned around. You couldn’t stop your tears from spilling over as she gestured for you to follow her further into the back of the restaurant. You knew what was coming, what Kie was trying to prepare you for.

It was what Rafe wanted, after all…and he’d gotten it.

It was hours later when you were sitting with your back against your door, your phone turned off, overwhelmed by the influx of missed calls and messages from your friends. You’d only gotten a glimpse at them before finding your head bent inside of your toilet. Every single one of them bar Kie were shocked, their horror and confusion clear as day through their words. Only Pope had eventually sent a text that asked if you were okay.

…and the truth was that you weren’t.

You were so far from okay.

Rafe had won, he’d gotten exactly what he wanted, and even though Mrs. Carerra had expressed sympathy for your plight—more angry at the situation than anything else—she’d still had no choice but to let you go. Every other business in town valued the Cameron family way too much, and the only place that had been willing to hire you had been swayed by Rafe too in the worst manner possible.

It was well after midnight when your door shook from harsh knocks. You hadn’t moved in hours, just blankly staring at the wall, and you closed your eyes at the sound, positive it was one of your friends. You didn’t have the strength to face them, to answer questions and either break down or pretend you felt far better than you actually did.

You did, however, have the strength to face Rafe, your gaze lifting when his voice met your ears, demanding that you open the door.

His fist was still in the air when you swung it open, looking at him like he was something you’d find on the bottom of your shoes. He looked as put together as ever, completely unfazed by what he’d done. And why wouldn’t he be? This wouldn’t hurt his reputation and success in this town a bit. If nothing else, the video would have even more girls falling at his feet, but for some reason he didn’t seem to want that.

He preferred to force your hand instead.

“What is wrong with you?” you tearfully asked him, throat tight.

He didn’t respond right away, touching his tongue to his lip as his gaze roamed behind you.

“You gonna let me in?”

Your eyes almost popped out of your sockets, and he gave a haughty laugh.

“It’s not like I’ve left you with much of a choice, now, have I?”

He sounded so…proud of himself, and all you could do was cry as he brushed past you. He closed the door for you, noticing that you were struggling to move, and he kept his hand on the wood, his chest grazing your back as he pressed his face into your hair. You heard him deeply inhale, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“I told you how this would end,” he whispered. “I gave you a chance to be smart about this.”

You went to move away from him, but his other hand shot out to grip your arm.

“You’re the one who made things way more difficult than they needed to be.” he continued. “We had a good thing going…and then you had to go and get sensitive and sentimental.”

When he forced you to face him, you kept your eyes on the collar of his shirt. The silence stretched as you refused to look at him, and you eventually heard Rafe heave a sigh. He let your arm go, and you watched him reach into his pocket, disappointed but not surprised by the roll of one hundred dollar bills he pulled out. When he straightened, he took your hand and placed the money in your palm, clasping your hands together.

A few more tears escaped when his fingers threaded through yours.

“Do you still feel like fighting this?” he quietly asked. “Let me know, right now, because I have all the time—and money—in the world.”

He slowly pulled you closer.

“You don’t.”

You shakily exhaled, reluctantly lifting your gaze to meet his own. You stared at one another for what felt like too long, and when he leaned in, taking your silence as defeat, you let him kiss you. It was a salty kiss, your own tears mixing in, but Rafe didn’t seem to mind, moving his lips against yours with a growing smile. His arm snaked its way around your waist, and the animalistic noise he let out told you just how excited he was to have you back under his thumb.

The couch seemed sufficient enough for him, bringing you both to it as he peeled your clothes off. You shuddered as the air hit your naked skin, thoughtlessly moving closer to his own body heat, and Rafe pressed a kiss to your shoulder as he laid you down. It felt like ages since you’d last slept with him, but you knew that wasn’t why you were trembling.

You were trembling because you finally realized you were sleeping with a monster. Before, Rafe had just been an opportunistic asshole to you. Rich, spoiled, selfish, the list went on, but now he was so much more than that. He was now someone who’d raped you on more than one occasion, and who had proved that he’d do anything to make you completely reliant on no one but him.

How else could he ensure that you’d never leave him? Never have any other choices but him? You’d eventually have to leave Outer Banks one day, you knew that to be true if you ever wanted a life independent of him, but that video could follow you around for the rest of your life, and very probably would.

When Rafe sheathed himself inside of you, stretching you out in a way that was regularly familiar to you, you gasped. The blond wasted no time in adopting a steady pace, fucking you hard against your couch, his fingers pressing into the arm of it. His grunts were soft in your ears, and despite your combined hatred and fear of him, you weren’t able to swallow down the whimpers that escaped your lips too.

You didn’t know what kind of hard on Rafe had for fucking someone he deemed so far beneath him, even more so to go through so much trouble of forcing you right back into his bed. You didn’t understand it one bit, and part of you never wanted to. You didn’t want to understand a thing that went on inside of his head, didn’t want to understand the thought process behind doing what he’d done to you.

His fingers scraped down your thigh before yanking you forward as he sat up some, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you. He was focused on the sight, lips parting as he panted from above you. He didn’t lean back down until your leg was over his shoulder, preventing you from moving much as he used you to chase his high, hips repeatedly curving against yours and forcing you to grip the couch.

“I missed this pussy so much,” he murmured, lips grazing the corner of your mouth as he spoke. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

You hadn’t before, but you did, now.

When his hand landed on your throat, it didn’t hurt, but his thumb applied just enough pressure to keep you alert.

“I’ll stop calling your friends dirty Pogues if that makes you feel better,” he whispered, a gentle kiss from his lips to yours. “...but you still belong to me.”

[in-class-daydreams]

cw. a lil age gap, but everyone is well over 18 (Gojo and Reader are ~40, Yuta is ~30)

Imagine the way ex-husband Gojo's eye twitches seeing how Yuta Okkotsu treats you.

You and Yuta had only seen each other in passing over the years. In fact, you never even officially met until he was several years out of school on the account of your innate technique causing Rika to go haywire. So while there was always a possibility of you seeing someone after the divorce, Satoru would never in his wildest dreams have guessed who it'd be. He'd heard through the grapevine that you only started seeing more of each other last year.

Satoru has to see you at the biweekly joint staff meetings between the Tokyo and Kyoto schools, made especially awkward after not one, but two (2) post-divorce make outs. The last time he kissed you while you were fighting, you shoved him away and booted him out of the house using your technique. Granted, you kissed him back, but you're not exactly on great terms right now.

So, it's bad enough that he has to see you as much as he does. Even worse is now that everything's out in the open, he has to watch you fawn over someone that's not him.

"You're so sweet!" you cry when Yuta surprises you during your lunch break with takeout from your favorite restaurant. "Thank you so much, but you really didn't have to do all this for me."

Yuta places a hand on the small of your back and guides you towards the door to the courtyard. Adjusting the picnic blanket slung over his shoulder, he asks, "Why not?"

"It's so much effort," you reply.

"For you? Nothing feels like much effort," Yuta says with a cheeky grin.

Satoru just catches a glimpse of you covering your face with your hand - as you always do when you blush - and then the two of you are out the door. It takes all his effort not to gag at how cheesy that was. Never mind how genuine Yuta looked about it.

Of course Satoru had taken you out for lunch while you were together. All kinds of lunches. Mom and pop shops, food stands, upscale restaurants, you'd done it all. Your new suitor wasn't doing anything for you that he hadn't done.

Suitor. What was this, the 1800's?

Suguru appears at his side while he stares after you.

"Was that Yuta?" he asks. "I'm impressed. He's supposed to be at a week-long training in Ibaraki."

Ibaraki? The prefecture that's over two hours away? He came all this way to have lunch with you?

Alright, Satoru never did that. Not that he wouldn't have! He totally would've if he'd, you know, thought of it.

Suguru seems oblivious to the emotional bomb he just dropped on his best friend. "I'm starving. Let's hurry up and go eat. I'm good with anything except KFC," he complains.

It takes a couple tries to get his attention, but Satoru eventually pulls himself out of his thoughts. He comforts himself with the notion that Yuta would be gone by the time he returned.

Imagine that while Yuta himself may be absent, his presence damn near haunts ex-husband Gojo to death.

You're already back in the meeting room by the time he and Suguru return from lunch, only you now have a full water bottle (he noticed you pout when you drank the last of it earlier), a sleeve of oreos sticking out of your bag, and a cute travel mug full of some hot drink that you definitely didn't have before.

If Satoru wasn't so preoccupied with insisting to himself that, 'I totally did things like that back in the day!' and provided his ex-wife wasn't the woman in question, he'd be thinking, 'Yuta Okkotsu, I was unfamiliar with your game.'

Even more frustrating is how energetic you look. You have your notes out and are nibbling on an oreo, kicking your feet back and forth as if there's not another two and a half hours left of this meeting.

It's not that Satoru doesn't want you to be happy. Quite the opposite, actually, since he'd gladly give his life if he thought he could guarantee your eternal joy and safety. He's just not sure what Yuta has that he didn't. Or doesn't.

"What does she see in him?" Satoru murmurs to himself later, when a bunch of the staff members go out for drinks. You're at the bar laughing with Yuki and Shoko.

He regrets speaking out loud when Sukuna snorts from behind him.

"How much time do we have?" your coworker says with amusement. He slides into the booth, nursing his sake bomb with ice. It's a travesty of a drink, if you ask Satoru, but to each his own.

"Great, it's my least favorite person," Satoru gripes.

Sukuna seems to take great pleasure in Satoru's misery. "I think Okkotsu's earned himself that title."

Now, Satoru hates the taste of alcohol nor is it ever a good idea for someone constantly using a cursed technique to get drunk, but he can't bring himself to care at the moment.

He snatches the drink from Sukuna's hand and downs the whole thing in one go.

Imagine how baffled ex-husband Gojo is when his son delivers a cursed artifact to him instead of you.

"Where's your mom?" he asks.

Sen hands over the small box covered in talismans while his best friend, Nao, lingers by the office door. Rolling his eyes, he says, "We had a mission in the area, so Sukuna-sensei had us deliver this."

"Not what I asked you, kid," Satoru replies, leaning back in his chair. He gestures for the boys to have a seat, but neither move.

Nao, who has a tendency to stir the pot if he thinks it'll be funny, pipes up, "She's on vacation for a week."

Since when did you take vacations? And why hadn't he heard of this?

"What's she doing for a whole week?" he asks.

Nao replies. "Okkotsu finished his training and whisked her away to some onsen in Obanazawa."

Sen smirks. "That snowy place that looks like it's from Spirited Away? How romantic."

"Super romantic." Stir, stir, stir, Nao Zen'in.

Sen was not a fan of anyone trying to get close to his mom. He'd seen how the divorce hurt you, but so far, Yuta worshipped the ground you walked on, so Sen was at least willing to not be too hostile towards him if it meant antagonizing his father.

Sen and his friend quickly say their goodbyes and head out to do whatever it is high school boys do. Once they're gone, Satoru pulls out his phone and searches 'onsen obanazawa.' The results show Ginzan Onsen, a place with traditional Japanese architecture with a beautiful snowy landscape. But according to the reviews, though a wonderful and charming place, it wasn't from the best onsen in Japan. He wants to scoff at the fact that his supposed 'replacement' chose anything but the best for you, but then he sees where Obanazawa is, which is in Yamagata prefecture.

Where you grew up. Where you and Satoru met.

How had it never occurred to him to bring you back there?

When he mopes on Suguru's couch later that evening, he tells his best friend the whole story. Suguru's delicate features are twisted into a grimace the whole way through.

"Why are you making such an ugly face?" Satoru asks miserably.

"I've never been ugly a moment of my life, Satoru."

"You know what I mean."

Suguru sighs and clicks his tongue. "They're not official?"

"So she keeps saying."

Though reluctant to kick his friend while he's down, Suguru decides that Satoru needs to know so he can mentally prepare himself.

"He's taking her on a romantic trip to a beautiful resort in her home prefecture. They may not be official now, but after a trip like that, there's no way she's coming back without a label. Hell, if they were official, she'd most likely be coming back with a ring."

Hearing that, Satoru contemplates finding a nice spot in the cursed artifact archive and falling into a coma for at least the next thousand years.

The plot McThickens

Find the other installments of this AU [here] | Find the #gojo sentaro lore [here] | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]

[dollfacefantasy]

Can't Help It

pairing: dbf!leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: your dad's coworker needs a housesitter, but the house isn't the only thing you'll be sitting on (haha pls laugh)

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, masturbation, oral (m receiving), age gap (i imagine early 20s/late 30s), both reader and leon are kinda pervy but not in a skeevy way <3

word count: 5.3k

a/n: hi hi i am back! this was such a pain to write for no reason, but as always, i hope people enjoy. i'm not sure what trope this really falls under, it's probably more accurate to say dcw (dad's coworker), but we'll go with dbf for convenience. i might make a part 2 of this idk. also, i know the header images are really giving graphic design is my passion but... it is what is lol. as before, thank you for all the support on my last fics. if you reblogged or commented, i'm giving you a smooch rn. and just wanna say that i do take requests. if anyone is interested, don't be shy ;) any who, feedback, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! <3

When your dad’s new coworker asked if you’d be interested in housesitting for some easy money, you couldn’t find a reason to say no. Agent Kennedy, like your father, traveled for work a lot. Often gone for weeks at a time, he needed someone to watch the place and take care of menial tasks like getting the mail and watering the plants. It paid well and all you had to do was basically live in his house.

You had met him several times in passing before he offered you this job, and he was always nice to you. He would say hi when you’d come down for a snack while he talked to your dad in the living room. He’d ask how college was and about the different classes you were taking. One time he even told you about some old band he liked that he thought you would too. And that was all great.

But what was even better was that he was fine as fuck.

You had a fat crush on him from the moment you were introduced. The way his eyes pierced right through you but in the softest way. How his lips curled into a knowing smile while his hand gripped yours in a firm shake. The way he said “pretty name for a pretty girl” when you told him your name. From any other middle-aged man, that would have been so corny and had you internally shriveling up. But from him… you had to fight the urge to get on your knees then and there.

He’d approached you about watching his house, saying something about how there had been some nearby break-ins in empty houses and it would be a good way for you to get some spending money and blah blah blah. You were on board as soon as the opportunity to have more of him in your life presented itself.

Unfortunately, it was the nature of housesitting that you rarely saw your employer. You would see him when you showed up and when he came home and that was it. But those moments were enough to sustain your delusion.

The first time you came over, you walked into the house, glancing around the den of the man who enraptured you. It was pretty basic, but you figured that not being home a lot would be the reason for that. When you were done trying to psychoanalyze him from looking around his house, he gave you your own set of keys with a wink that had you blushing an embarrassing amount.

“Thank you, Mr. Kennedy,” you said softly.

“Call me Leon, Sweetheart,” he replied.

You had to look away to conceal your giddy smile. You didn’t think he noticed the effect he had on you. Or if he did, he didn’t care about your pitiful infatuation. But other times, you could have sworn he did this kind of thing on purpose.

Your first stint in the house went smoothly. You made sure to do everything he asked and even cleaned up the place a little bit. When he returned from wherever his work had taken him that time, he seemed impressed to your delight. He looked around, making small talk with you before writing your check.

“You get up to anything crazy while I was gone?” he said, smirking as he scribbled his signature on the small rectangle.

“Yeah, I was real wild - I brought out your vacuum for probably the first time.”

He laughed, handed you the check, and teasingly purred “good girl.” 

Now, he may have been joking, but your panties nearly soaked through with arousal regardless. You yet again hid your revealing expression as you said a timid goodbye and headed out to your car. You were shifting your thighs together the whole ride home, fantasizing about being a good girl for Agent Kennedy so he would relieve that ache between your legs that clouded your thoughts.

Honestly, all of this made you feel pretty pathetic. Lusting after your father’s coworker, now technically your boss, who was a good fifteen years older than you. Blushing and squirming every time he said something more than ‘hi.’ Weren’t you better than this? But then you’d see those thick biceps and mysterious eyes, and the answer in your mind would be a resounding no.

Because honestly, you weren’t better than this, you were so much worse. After the good girl incident, you decided that if he didn’t want you yet, he would. You would make sure of it. From then on, every time you were housesitting, you wore your most revealing outfits, did your hair all pretty, and even tried special perfume so you’d smell extra nice.

But none of it seemed to work. He kept up his regular teasing and charm, but to your dismay, he hadn’t railed you on that sad leather couch in the living room. You tried to convince yourself that his gazes lingered longer and that his touches were more strategic, but that felt like reach even for you. 

It was so frustrating. What more could you do? You touched his arm while he spoke. You laughed harder at his corny jokes. You even hugged him once or twice when you could justify it. You tried to drop hints every way you could without literally just trying to seduce him, and he did not seem to care. You nearly gave up. You decided that maybe you should just cut your losses and spare yourself the humiliation. Leave yourself with some dignity and resign to just being his housesitter.

You would have done this if not for the fact that he lets you sleep in his bed while he’s gone.

His house was meant for one person. It didn’t have a guest room. He told you on your first gig that you were obviously allowed to sleep in his bed since the alternative was the aforementioned sad leather couch in the living room. He told you to bring whatever you needed to be comfortable - sheets, blankets, pillows - since you’d be there for weeks at a time.

At first, it was too weird. It made you feel dirty, sleeping in his bed while harboring your secret carnal desires. But goddamn, that couch in the living room was uncomfortable. You stuck it out for the first time, but the second time you housesat, you relented and dragged your belongings back to the room you’d forbidden yourself from knowing. 

His bedroom, like the rest of the house, is pretty blank, but there’s a little more personality here. It made you feel like such a stalker, but you couldn’t help making observations, right? You got to see the type of cologne he wore, the few dusty books he kept next to his bed, what kind of stuff he crammed in the nightstand drawers. It sounded creepy, but you just had curiosity, right?

You set yourself up in his queen size bed, draping the plush blanket you brought with you across the mattress. The bed was comfy enough, but the absolute best part, the part that kept your fantasies alive and well, was the way the sheets smelled like him.

You nearly moaned when you took a deep breath, filling your nose with that familiar scent. It gave you such a rush pushing your face into those smooth gray linens. It was so wrong, but you couldn’t help shamefully slipping your fingers beneath the waistband of your shorts to play with your swollen clit. You clutch the sheets in your fists as you writhe on the bed, whining as you fantasize about your special agent.

Leon had gone years leaving his house desolate without an issue. All that nonsense about potential burglaries and spending money for you had been total bullshit. It’s not like there was anything of value in his house anyway. Those excuses served only as a way to get more of you in his life. He thought housesitting was a happy middleground, a tether to you without being obvious about his motivations.

Ever since he saw you for the first time, heading out your front door, offering a timid ‘nice to meet you,’ he had been hooked. You bewitched him with your sweet temperament, that soft laugh when he told you bad jokes, those gorgeous eyes projecting all the emotions in that pretty head of yours. God, you were so fucking cute.

You made him feel like a dirty old man, sick and perverted for coveting his colleague’s daughter. The embarrassment he felt within himself when he’d notice he was staring at your tits or imagining how your soft lips would look wrapped around his cock was immeasurable. Even though the guilt boiled inside him, he couldn’t stop himself. He craved you. He started finding more opportunities to visit your house, hoping he could steal a few moments of your time. That’s when he knew enough was enough.

Having you as his house sitter worked perfectly. He could have his moments with you without feeling too disgusted with himself. Even though he liked to tease every so often, he kept it friendly. He noticed that you, on the other hand, seemed to be doing everything to change that.

He wasn’t a fool. He could see the changes in your appearance. Those skimpy outfits you’d flaunt yourself in drove him crazy. The way you’d playfully roll your eyes and brush his arm had his cock twitching in his pants. It was becoming all the more tempting to spread you out on the dining table and take what he wanted. But he still wrestled with that part of himself that said to not take it too far. That you deserved better.

That was until you started sleeping in his bed.

He had come home after your second gig, given you your check, and sent you on your way quickly because he was exhausted from his mission. He went straight to his room and collapsed on the bed. He could tell the sheets had been freshly washed by the soft feel, but also because you were always going above and beyond to please him. Despite the recent cleaning, he swore to himself he could smell some of your perfume on them.

He looked like a madman, smelling his bed sheets for the faintest hit of that scent. He groaned, picturing you lying here, your beautiful body sprawled out on his bed. He inhaled deeper while conjuring images of your unkempt hair and sleepy eyes. It wasn’t long until his dick sprung to life as he saw images of you with one of his pillows between your legs, whimpering as you drag your dripping cunt back and forth along the fabric. He couldn’t help the need to desperately pump his cock to sinful visions of his precious girl.

This morning it’s about six when Leon unlocks the front door and quietly walks inside. He completed his mission hours before. He was tired, but it had been short, only about a week, and relatively easy. He told you he would be home in the evening, but he’d finished earlier than expected.

He trudges through the house and down the hall to his bedroom, collapsing in bed at the forefront of his mind. It’s not until he reaches the door and hears your deep breathing that it occurs to him that his bed is currently occupied. He gently pushes the door open and walks in, planning on rousing you so you could get your money and be on your way. When he sees you though, that plan vanishes from his mind.

The sight of you nearly melts him into a puddle. He pads closer to the bed, careful not to disturb you. Your shiny hair is draped across the pillow as you lie on your stomach with one leg hiked up. Your arms rest close to your face, their raised position causing your t-shirt to ride up and allowing him to see your waist. The blanket was tangled between your legs, and his eyes are immediately drawn to the junction of your thighs covered only by those thin panties you wore.

Despite your beauty, he controls himself. He pulls the blanket over your lower body and sits beside you to contemplate his next move. He came up with a few different things he could do, but all he wanted right now was to watch you sleep. He felt like such a creep, but you looked heavenly in this state. His ears strained to hear those delicate exhales coming from your parted lips.

He could just go sleep on the couch until you woke up. He could just wake you up and offer to let you stay until you had your bearings. Or he could just let himself enjoy this a little more.

He wanted to wake you though. He wasn’t fully sure of what he was doing, but if there was any part of you that had reservations he wanted to know. It would rip his heart to shreds if he frightened you somehow. He begins rubbing your back in long soothing strokes. He makes small circles with his fingers every so often. You stir a little, but don’t wake.

He continues his ministrations, smiling at your sleeping form. He uses his other hand to brush your hair from your face. He strokes the locks away from your closed eyes before leaning closer to you. He can smell that familiar scent that had driven him to humping the sheets for the last few months.

“Hey Angel, need you to wake up for me,” he coos in your ear, his hot breath fanning across the side of your head.

It slowly registers inside your unconscious mind that you aren’t dreaming. Actual fingers are coasting along your back. An actual voice is coaxing you back to reality.

A low hum emits from your throat as you shift to face the source of your disturbance. Your eyes open, still heavy from sleep, and Leon enters your field of vision. For a second, you wonder if you’re still dreaming.

“There she is,” he whispers, giving you that charming smile. He runs his fingers along your jaw and tilts your chin to turn your face completely in his direction.

You feel your brain malfunctioning as he floods your senses. The morning light coming through the window illuminating him as he looks down at you. The deep timbre of his voice speaking to you. His rough fingertips dragging across the smooth expanse of your cheek.

Soon as your eyes come into focus and your mind clears the fog of sleep a little, you grasp enough of the situation to feel a jolt of panic. It felt like you woke up late for school. You shoot up in bed and look at him with wide, apologetic eyes.

“Oh my God, Leon, I’m so sorry. I thought you wouldn’t be back until tonight. I’ll be ready in a minute. Just-” you ramble. You go to fling the blanket off of you, but remember you didn’t wear shorts to bed. You have to sit there, looking at him as you feel heat creeping to your cheeks.

“Hey, it’s alright,” he cuts you off with a quiet chuckle, gently catching your arm when you sit up, “I finished a little early. You don’t need to rush out the door. I figured you’d still be asleep.”

The look in his eyes soothes you. He has that rugged, worn out look that he gets when he comes back from missions. Your heart rate falls back down to normal levels, but your eyes still cast downwards, a little embarrassed he’d caught you unprepared. His fingers trail up and down your arm, and you shift a little to try and hide the fact that your nipples are hardening beneath the flimsy fabric of your shirt.

“Thank you. I’ll be up in a few though. I know you’re probably tired,” you say, giving him a sheepish smile.

He moves so that he’s further on the bed with you. He lays back on the pillows and looks up at you, rubbing your back how he was before you woke up. 

“Mmmm, I am, but you still don’t need to rush. I’m not gonna complain about a sweet thing like you warming my bed,” he says, that teasing smile spreading across his face and his fingers starting to trace patterns exclusively on the small of your back.

Your eyes flit away as your own smile grows on your face. How were you supposed to be normal about this? You look down at your hands in your lap and mutter a thank you.

“Honey, you really don’t need to be so shy all of the sudden,” he says softly, but there’s a smug lilt to his voice as well. You bite your lip as his hand begins fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

He can’t help the smirk and predator-like glint in his eyes that form at your reaction. This was it. That little smile and refusal to meet his eyes was all he could stand. He was closing in now. The flirtation between you two had gone on long enough. He wanted this, and if you wanted it too, his mind couldn’t find a reason to deny the two of you any longer.

“Sweetheart, if you have something to tell me, you can come out and say it. I don’t bite. Unless you want me to,” he says as he reaches up to pull your hair behind your shoulder and out of your face, “And, lately I’m starting to think that’s what you want.”

You look over to him now, your eyes staring into his. Your limbs feel weak, disbelief coursing through your veins. Your thoughts stampede through your mind, but you eventually force the words from your throat.

“I think I want that too,” you breathe. Your heart seizes at his brows playfully rising. You lay down on the bed, resting on your side so that you and Leon are face to face. Your pulse thunders in your ears while you try to conceal how shaky your breathing is.

He scooches over to you, pushing you on to your back and propping himself on his elbow so he’s positioned above you. He leans down and presses two faint kisses to your cheeks. Pulling back, he looks into your eyes and strokes your cheek again with the same soft and slow movements.

“Think, babydoll? I think you know what you want,” he whispers, dragging his thumb over your bottom lip, “I think you’ve known for a while. Wearing all those cute little outfits, prancing through my house and brushing against me like a kitten. You were just begging for my attention.”

You squirm slightly under the spotlight of his affection. Somehow, you maintain eye contact even though every cell in you feels the urge to look away. Part of your mind wonders if he’s still teasing. If he’s about to pull away and leave you wanting.

Before you could overthink anymore, his head lowers to the crook of your neck. He takes a deep breath of you as he moves himself further on top. 

“Now, you’ve got it, but all you had to do, sweet thing, was ask,” he says as his mouth ghosts over your neck, “That’s all you have to do right now. Just want to hear that you want me as bad as I want you.”

“Yes,” you whimper without a second thought, “Please touch me.”

“That’s my good girl,” he hums as he begins kissing your neck. The kisses are soft. They’re barely there, but they’re overwhelming to you. You can’t help the pathetic sound that leaves your lips as you tilt your head back. The hand that had been touching your face trails down to your waist and begins caressing your side under your shirt.

His tongue gently laps against the skin of your neck between kisses. Your whole body is starting to heat up while simultaneously getting chills. Every inch of you aches for his touch. Your thighs subconsciously spread as your breathing becomes heavier.

Leon lets out a small laugh at your display. “You must really want this Baby. Just a few kisses and rubs and you’re already mine,” he murmurs as his lips move up your neck and down your jaw. He kisses your lips next, giving your bottom lip a little nip.

Another needy sound escapes your mouth. You return the kiss and flick your tongue against his lips. “I do, wanted this since I met you,” you moan, your body writhing for more.

“Naughty girl,” he teases against your lips, “That’s okay though, Angel. I’m the same way. Wanted a handful of these pretty tits since I saw you.” His hand moves up and kneads your breast. His fingers massage the flesh before centering and pinching your nipple. 

You whine and arch into his touch. Your eyes flutter as your face contorts with desire. He slides over you, straddling your waist. He stares down at you and takes in what was finally in his grasp. He coos for you to sit up a little while he pulls your shirt off of you. You comply and then flop back against the pillows. Now exposed from the waist up, his eyes feel even more intense. He’s locked on to the view of your tits.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” he mutters, “Even better than I imagined.” His hands cup the sides of your breasts, groping them a bit. You can now see his cock beginning to strain against his jeans. Your mouth waters at the sight, but it’s gone when he leans down to take a nipple into his mouth.

His tongue circles the peak before lapping against it, drawing more whines from you. Your body arches into his touch while his hands never let up their fondling. You take your lip between your teeth again. He moves to give the other nipple the same treatment, leaving the other one cold as the air touches the saliva-coated skin.

He plays with your breasts for a while more before drifting down your abdomen, lavishing your stomach with kisses. He squeezes your waist as he playfully tugs the hem of your panties with his teeth. He looks up at you deviously. “Your nipples were so hard, I bet your pussy’s fucking soaked for me.”

All you can do is nod, any verbal response tangled up in your esophagus. He leans back on his knees and swiftly pulls the garment off. His pupils seem blown out as he gets a look at your cunt. He pushes your thighs to your stomach, spreading you out for his gaze. You felt so exposed, at his mercy as he held you there and just looked at you. Your arms reach down and pull at the hem of his shirt.

“Wanna see you too,” you whimper with pleading eyes.

“Yeah?” he says with a soft smile. He leans back and pulls his shirt off. It takes everything in you to hold back a gasp. “Been fantasizing about me, have you?”

Your eyes rake along his chiseled abdomen, drinking in every line and shadow of his muscular frame. You reach out and pull him back on top of you. His grin grows, and he indulges you. You connect your mouths again, this time sliding your tongue inside his. He groans at your sudden eagerness. He runs his hand through your hair while you feel up his back, exploring the definition there.

You give him a little push, signaling that you want to roll over. His body flips over and takes you with him so that you’re positioned how you wanted. You make out for a minute more until you pull back, looking at him with your lustful eyes and swollen lips.

“Wanna suck your cock,” you say simply, sliding down his body so that you’re lying between his legs. You nuzzle against the bulge in his pants before unzipping them and tugging them down.

His eyes follow your every movement. He pets your head as you rub your face against the outline of his dick. He tilts his head back and lets out a sigh. 

“That’s a good girl, just gotta give you some love and then you loosen up, don’t you?” he coos.

“Mhm,” you hum. You kiss his solid length over the cloth of his boxers. Then, finally, what you had been waiting for since meeting Leon. You loop your fingers over the waistband of his underwear and pull them down, unveiling his beautiful cock.

You wrap your fingers around it, just an exploratory touch. You feel the veins in your hold and the heat radiating from his shaft. You slowly bring your head to the tip to give him some tiny licks. Your eyes dart to his face, looking for approval.

Leon’s chest ached from the way you were looking at him like he was a god. When your tongue sticks out and your eyes return his stare, he nods at you and keeps stroking your hair. Your lips soon wrap around the tip, and you bob your head a little. He groans and his hips twitch.

“That’s a good girl, baby. Good fucking girl,” he moans as your head slides further down his member. His fingers lace through your hair, pulling a little.

The praise only makes you more enthusiastic. You move up and down with more speed, making lewd slurping noises as you work. His hand on your head and his sounds of pleasure has heat collecting in your belly, leaking out of your dripping pussy.

His head rests against the head board as he watches you with half-open eyes. His eyes squeeze shut and his body tenses as you push your head all the way down, taking him into your throat. Spit trickles from your mouth and drips on to his pelvis.

“Fuck, Sweetheart,” he whimpers, tugging on your hair a little. You taste his pre cum leaking on your tongue. A gagging noise comes from you and his hips twitch harder. He barely restrains himself from bucking up and lodging himself deeper in your throat. You moan around his cock, driving him even crazier. He feels the rush of an orgasm approaching and tugs your hair with more firmness, guiding your head up and off his lap. You whine softly as you lose the taste of him.

“Sorry, pretty girl, don’t wanna cum just yet,” he says.

You crawl back up his body, so you’re in his arms again. You kiss his cheeks and the corners of his mouth as he rolls the two of you over so he’s on top again. He connects your lips in a deep kiss, tasting himself on you as he drags the tip of his cock through your slippery folds.

He doesn’t tease for long though. Soon enough, he’s pushing himself into your tight cunt. You both let out a symphony of sinful noises. Leon watches as your face contorts with pleasure as he stretches you out. You both felt a budding sense of satisfaction after finally receiving what you craved for the last several months.

He bottoms out inside of you. His head falls forward against your neck. He pants as he holds himself together and lets you adjust, keeping an iron grip on your hips. Your fluttering around him as you accommodate his girth. Your nails lightly dig into his back while you cling to him.

He begins thrusting with slow and deep strokes. You moan out his name a few times with a variety of expletives. He keeps his face buried in your neck, grunting as he feels the velvety sensation of your walls around his length. His motions become more fluid as he finds a rhythm with you.

“That’s right Angel, better than your dreams?” he murmurs against your neck.

“Yes, fuck, yes,” you whimper, “So much better. Think your cock was made for me.”

“That so, Baby? I’m made to fill up a precious girl like you? Keep you happy and full of cum,” he growls into your neck, his thrusts gaining intensity.

You nod thoughtlessly as he continues battering your insides, gliding over your sweet spot repeatedly.Your arms wrap tighter around him as you feel yourself getting dragged closer and closer to the edge. Your noises become more strained as Leon lays sloppy kisses on the side of your head.

He hooks his arms underneath your knees and brings your thighs up to your abdomen again. His arm loops around and thumbs your clit as he slams himself in and out. Your back arches and you squirm from the rush of white hot pleasure. You’re right there, not able to hold on for much longer.

“I’m gonna have you so full of my cum today, it’s gonna be dripping out of you still the next time you’re here,” he grunts into your ear, “Make sure your pussy remembers me till I can fill her again.”

His vulgar words rip a high pitched moan from your throat and cause your eyes to roll back. “Fuck, Leon, I’m gonna cum,” you whimper.

“Go ahead, sweet girl. Squeeze me nice and tight,” he moans, his own voice getting strained.

You do as he says. The orgasm overtakes you. You release a strangled cry as your body rhythmically rolls into the feeling. Your pussy clamps around Leon tight, sucking him deep and keeping the attention on that blissful spot. The thrill of satisfaction rushing through your mind only works you further. Your eyes flutter and your lips part as you completely let go.

As he watches you cum, he notes that it might be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. The sight of your gorgeous body writhing and trembling because of him. The primal sounds of your moans and cries. It’s too much for him. He growls and grunts into your neck, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. He snaps even harder into you and floods you with his sticky, hot cum.

You both ride the waves of euphoria together until you both start coming down. He basically collapses on you as he catches his breath and you wipe the sweat from your brow. After a minute, he pushes himself off of you and flat on to the bed next to you. He gazes at the ceiling as his chest continues to rise and fall with the need for more oxygen.

You sit up slowly, realizing he probably wants you gone now. Like he said, you feel his cum leaking out of you as you move to grab your panties from the corner of his bed. This is how you expected it to be, but it still hurt a little. Nothing you couldn’t handle though. Your pulling them back on when your snapped out of your thoughts by Leon’s arm around your waist, dragging you to him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks teasingly, spooning you and softly kissing beneath your ear, “You got what you wanted and now you’re running out?”

“Oh, uhhh… I thought you’d want me to leave,” you say quietly.

He guides your face so you’re looking at him. His eyes are still soft but more serious. “You think I would just fuck you and then throw you out on your ass? You’ve been sleeping in my bed for months, but you don’t know me as well as you think,” he says and kisses your nose, “You don’t have anywhere to be today, yeah? You thought you’d be here till later anyway.”

You nod in agreement, your eyes casting down with some embarrassment over your assumption.

“Hey, don’t get all shy on me now. There’s no reason for it,” he teases, “We have all day for me to show you how I want to take care of you. Just give me a moment, I’m not as young as I use to be.”

[lavendermin]

Stop, about the Mimi being protective of pregnant reader....I imagine it carried out even when the baby was born...like when rhe baby is in bed giggling and Mimi circles around them then growl when jy wants to see his baby..I also think mimi would take the baby w her and JY and reader was STRESSED when their baby is gone only to find their baby fell asleep in the warmth of Mimi🥹

You’re so right 100%

Jing Yuan is often busy so your company mostly consists of Mimi for most of the time and the few regular faces you’ll see at the estate. And now that you’re pregnant, Jing Yuan takes extra precaution appointing several of his most entrusted contacts to keep you safe when he isn’t by your side.

cw | pregnancy, suggestive

Who would have known that Mimi, the majestic white lion, who was at first mostly indifferent to you is now suddenly glued to your side like a needy lap cat. And you could only pinpoint this shift in behavior with the progression of your pregnancy.

You started noticing the small shifts two months into your pregnancy. Mimi would follow you from room to room when Jing Yuan wasn’t around. Its icy blue eyes would bore into those who came to speak with you, a little guarded. But Mimi was intelligent—Jing Yuan had expressed this himself to you on many occasions since knowing him. It would not harm anyone that wasn’t a true threat.

When someone asks to feel your belly, Mimi will make a low rumbling sound as a threat. Still, early on it’s no problem and it’s a little situation you easily dispel with comforting assurances and scratches behind Mimi’s ear.

It only becomes a bigger issue when you’re about five months into the pregnancy. Jing Yuan has just come back from a rather long expedition for official business—forty-six days to be exact. And his heart is light with the notion that he finally gets to hold his lovely wife, so wonderful and pregnant, for the first time in weeks.

“My love, it’s good to see you back safe and sound,” you greet, hobbling over from where you were resting on the couch with Mimi obediently at your feet. You look positively radiant like this, your tummy rounded with his child and your body soft and glowing.

Strange, Jing Yuan thinks as he removes some of his armor and regalia. It isn’t lost on him how Mimi follows closely by your side, almost supporting you as you walk to make sure your balance is ensured.

“Ive counted the days until I could see you again,” he grins, hand settling on your hip.

As he leans in to properly greet you with a kiss, Jing Yuan is nudged away. Rather forcibly, he might add. Mimi huffs as it wedges itself between yourself and the general.

“Snow Lion,” he commands with a look.

Mimi looks away with an annoyed flick of its tail, unmoving and nudging your hand to pet its mane. Usually Mimi is well-behaving and certainly well-trained. You can’t help but laugh and bend down to place a smooch to the top of the lion’s mane.

“Husband, I do believe little Mimi is a tad upset you left me alone for so long.”

“This hasn’t been a problem before, so it should not pose an issue now,” he ponders, a little bewildered.

After a few affections and sweet words from you all is well and Jing Yuan is able to properly dote on you like the starved man he is. Well…not without Mimi in the same vicinity as you both catch up over dinner and a stroll through the gardens.

That same night poses another issue. With your soft body under his rough hands, Jing Yuan is eager to please you tonight to make up for lost time while he was away. He’s barely gotten you worked up with desperate kisses and heated touches when he hears it.

Scritch. Scritch. Scritch.

At first, he pays it no mind. Eager to see you fall apart and taste you on his tongue again. It’s you who halts his advances as you break a kiss with a chuckle upon hearing the scratching again and a few low rumbles.

“Love, I think Mimi wants to come into the room,” you mutter against his lips. Jing Yuan sighs, burying his face in your shoulder.

Though he’s painfully hard and just wants to ravage his pregnant wife, he relents and throws on a robe to open the chamber door. The white lion wastes no time walking over and onto the bed, curling up next to you.

“My bed and wife taken over by my own lion,” he sighs, crossing his arms as he watches the lion purr contently against you.

It becomes a regular habit that you unfortunately spoil Mimi with. Your baby is quite fond of Mimi’s purring after all and likewise Mimi is fond of feeling the baby’s kicks.

Jing Yuan is still luckily spared the ability to love you how he wants when time allows but not without your coaxing Mimi that everything is ok and to stand guard at the door instead. At the very least, you have one more form of protection. He has to convince himself of this at least when he sees you fast asleep against Mimi when he returns late some nights. He’s nonetheless fascinated that such an intelligent creature has found instinct in protecting someone who is expecting. Perhaps luck truly favors the bold.

In the months that follow, your baby is born without issue and Mimi is still just as overprotective if not more of the newborn. Surely it understands that your daughter is a frail cub that cannot be left to the elements. And perhaps it’s due to Mimi’s constant purring against you during your pregnancy, but whenever your daughter begins to whine or cry Mimi will diligently lay near her and purr gently to soothe the baby.

And it works. Every time.

You’re almost a little shocked.

And of course, when Jing Yuan goes to check up on your daughter Mimi will growl defensively. It will never act on it, no. He isn’t a threat.

It’s more of a warning. Ensure this cub’s safety or else.

“Snow Lion, she needs to be fed. These worries are not good for your heart,” he scolds without much bite to his words as he rocks the infant gently, formula bottle in hand.

(I do like to think that since Jing Yuan canonically now refers to Mimi as Snow Lion upon discovering it’s a lion, you will prefer to use Mimi because you think it’s cuter. The lion definitely shows more biased response to you using Mimi because of your coos and affections.)

It’s all well and good until the day your daughter goes missing (for like a solid five minutes in the estate). She’s missing from her crib in the few minutes it took for you to grab a new change of clothes for her as you got ready to give her a bath. You immediately call for Jing Yuan since she’s nowhere to be found in the nursery or your room. She’s disappeared along with the blanket she was in.

And somehow Jing Yuan gets the immediate suspicion the lion is somehow involved when he notices Mimi’s absence from your side. He remains calm.

“What time is it, my dear wife.”

“Wh- it’s a quarter past noon. What–”

Jing Yuan takes your hand with a reassuring smile and leads you across the estate to one of the main sun rooms overlooking the garden. It’s where the afternoon sun filters just right through the large glass windows and thin curtains—Mimi’s favorite sunbathing spot.

And no doubt, the lion is there, curled up against the sun’s rays as they filter warmly into the room. Your daughter is bundled up and gently laid upon a little nest pile of blankets within the warmth of the afternoon sun. She sleeps soundly, small hand clutched tightly around a lock of Mimi’s mane.

You both sigh in relief. It certainly isn’t a conventional babysitter, but Mimi is nothing if not intelligent and loyal.

[harryspet]

bambi eyes (3) r. cameron

[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

word count: 3.4k

In which you do your best to deal with your Daddy's mood swings.

main masterlist

bambi eyes masterlist

You felt like you were seeing Rafe less and less as the next two weeks went on. He was stressed about what was going on with work. He often paced back and forth in front of you, ranting, although he was never specific about the details of what was going on. 

You noticed that he grabbed you tighter, pushed you harder into the mattress, and talked less during sex whenever something outside was affecting him. You were starting to accept it; it never hurt too much, and you’d be more scared if he weren’t interested in you in that way. If he didn’t want to be intimate with you, then there was a chance he wouldn’t want you anymore. 

As much as Rafe promised you this was permanent, you couldn’t fully believe him. He had done all of this just for you, so you had to be able to offer him something special in return. 

Like Rafe wanted, you established a routine. Every morning the birds would wake you up exactly at eight, and you’d make your bed which kept you from napping all day. Staying in your room was causing your imagination to stretch.  You found new ways to entertain yourself, including trying on all the clothes in your wardrobe and throwing elaborate tea parties with all your stuffed animals and dolls. 

One night that you thought would be like the last twelve nights, Rafe came to you after Lana had already brought you dinner. He wasn’t dressed in his usual khakis and dress shirt but in sweatpants and a pullover. You were curled up on the window seat, drawing flowers in a notebook, when Rafe came over to join you. 

“Hi,” You spoke softly. He placed a warm hand on your knee, and you slowly closed your notebook. 

“Hi, baby,” There was an ease and calmness to his voice that made you believe he’d actually had a good day, “What are you working on? Show me.”

You sat up, leaning closer, as you handed him the notebook. You hid slightly behind your knees as Rafe began to flip through the pages. At this point, you’d covered half of the pages in your doodles, “Oh wow, these are really pretty, Bambi,” He smiled with his entire face, including his bright eyes, “We should hang some of these on the fridge.”

You felt a bit of relief, hearing that he liked him, “I have more. Way more. I’ve colored a lot of the coloring books.”

“Go get them, I’ll pick my favorites,” Excitedly, you got up from the window seat. When you set several full coloring books in his lap, Rafe’s lips parted in shock, “Okay, wow, I don’t think I realized how much coloring you’d been doing.”

“I think it’s fun,” You said. 

“Good, I want you to have fun,” Rafe nodded, “But have you worn down all your color pencils? How come you haven’t asked for more?”

You shrugged when Rafe gave you an inquisitive look, “I try to take care of the ones I have.”

“Would you even ask Daddy for more coloring books if you ran out of pages to color?”

“Maybe,” You spoke honestly. 

The idea of asking for more than what Rafe had already given you did make your heart race. Rafe shook his head at something, “Daddy will get you lots more art supplies. Maybe you could try painting?”

“We could paint together?” You perked up. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Rafe assured you, “I’m really, really sorry I haven’t been here as much as I’ve wanted to. Needed to, really. It’s just … I’m working on a lot of things right now, you know?”

“I’ve been okay,” You said, “Lana has been kind to me.”

“Good, good, I want you to be happy here, you know? That’s why I want you comfortable asking for things,” You watched Rafe’s eyes wander towards the bookshelf, “Like your books. I never see you reading them. Do you not like them?”

“I do,” You said quickly.

Rafe started to stare deeply at you, “What-what is it?”

“I . . . “

“I can pick some different ones for you? What do you like?”

“I like it when you read to me, Daddy,” Rafe tilted his head and the mentioning of his nickname didn’t light up his features like usual, “It’s hard for me. I never needed to … do that.”

He paused, which made you think you’d done something wrong, “You’ve never needed to read?”

“I can do it,” You said, “It’s hard when they’re all together, and there’s so many… the words. I’m sorry you think I don’t like the books you picked. I really do. I will try harder–”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Rafe rushed to put the coloring books aside and grab ahold of your face, “I just didn’t know, that’s it. You didn’t do anything wrong. At all.”

It wasn’t something you’d ever felt embarrassed about, but now you couldn’t help but feel stupid. Deep down, you felt a guy like Rafe deserved someone better. He deserved someone smarter than you. 

You closed your eyes, wanting to hang your head, but Rafe said, “Look at me, hey,” Weakly, you did, “I’ve been thinking that you should spend more time with Lana instead of being cooped up in here. At least until I can take care of this … one problem I have. She’d be happy to have some company. And, if you want to learn, she could help you with your reading.”

“You don’t care?”

“Not at all, look, don’t worry. I’ve got you, sweet girl,” He said. Rafe leaned in to peck your nose before he brought your lips together. You melted into him, realizing then how much you missed him when he was gone, “You know what I was thinking?”

You stared back at Rafe, who had a mischievous look in his eye. 

“We should take the boat out.”

“Now? Where?�� 

“Just on a short ride to get you some fresh air. It’ll be cold, so let’s find you some warmer clothes, yeah?”

It was a rhetorical question; Rafe was already making his way over to your wardrobe. You looked down at the small silk pajama set you were wearing. You’d seen all the boats out by the dock but hadn’t imagined that Rafe would take you out on one. “Lift your arms,” You did exactly as he said, pulling a light blue sweatshirt over your head. He also chose long pajama bottoms, helping you get into those, too, “You want to bring one of your stuffies?”

Your excitement mixed with your anxiety as you put on your slippers. It was a hard decision to make about which stuffed animal you wanted to bring, but you settled on Fin, your silvery-blue dolphin, “Excellent choice.”

Rafe grabbed your hand, leading you downstairs, “Do you think we’ll see a real dolphin?”

“Well, they tend to be more active during the day, and it’ll be dark soon … but maybe if you wish really, really hard.”

The air was much cooler outside than you expected, and you certainly didn’t expect it to feel so strange being in the fresh air. You turned in a circle just so you could take in the sky, the trees, the house, and everything around you. 

You followed a determined Rafe across the yard and towards the deck. He chose one of the smaller boats, although there was room for at least four more people. You yelped when Rafe grabbed you by your waist suddenly and lifted you inside. Another yelp escaped your lips as the boat rocked under the pressure of your weight, “You’re okay, don’t worry,” He didn’t have to tell you to take a seat or be still; you decided you wouldn’t move at all, “One . . . moment.”

You watched through the corner of your eyes as Rafe untied the roaps keeping the boat tethered to the dock. The boat rocked again as Rafe hopped inside, causing you to grip Fin in one hand and grip the side of the boat in the other. 

You sat in the seat right across from Rafe as the boat slowly pulled off towards deeper water. As the boat became more steady, you turned your head and watched Tannyhill get smaller and smaller. The orange and blue sky reflected off the water, creating an insanely beautiful view. You sailed towards the horizon, the son looking half submerged in the water, “How do you feel?” Rafe yelled over the sound of the motor, “Wanna go faster?”

You nodded, a smile growing on your face, “My little daredevil, huh?” You sat up on your knees, wanting to see more. You get a better look at Figure 8, seeing lots of huge houses along the beach, although none of them compare to Tannyhill. Rafe pointed out different landmarks for you, including the country club and a huge lighthouse out in the water. In your eyes, this night made every other night where you worried about your place with Rafe worth it. 

“Go ahead, you can give it a taste test,” Lana conceded, allowing you to dip your finger into the chocolate cake batter. A few days after your night out with Rafe, Lana was showing you how to make the perfect chocolate cake. You thought she might be exaggerating about how perfect it was until you were licking your finger. An excited moan left your mouth and you bounced on the balls of your feet, “It’s great, isn’t it? Espresso powder is the key.”

“It really is,” You agreed. 

“Now, wash your hands. It’s time to pour our batter.” 

The entire day Lana had told you exactly what to do and how to do it. You didn’t mind listening or following her directions as she usually spoke to you warmly. Besides that, you wanted to learn exactly how to take care of things around the house, knowing that Rafe would appreciate your help when Lana couldn’t be here. The two of you cleaned the entire downstairs, did several loads of laundry, washed the windows in the glass patio, and even had time for a reading lesson in the early morning. She informed you that she homeschooled her youngest son and that she would try to teach you in a similar way. 

As you washed your hands, you glanced out the side window towards the dock. You could see Rafe far out on the dock, standing with the same business associate who came to the house a few weeks ago. They weren’t alone like you were expecting; someone was on their knees a few feet ahead of them, their head slumped over. You squinted your eyes, trying to see more of them, although Rafe and his business associate shouting at each other blocked your view, “What are they doing out there? Who’s that?” Lana came over to where you were standing, peeking out just like you were. 

Whatever business Rafe was involved in, Lana didn’t seem to care for it, “Mr. Cameron and Barry, they’re always at each other’s throats,” She shook her head, “Come, dry your hands. The oven is heated.”

You did as she said, turning your head away. There were going to be several layers to your cake, meaning you had three pans to fill, and after that, you and Lana would make the icing. Just as your mind wandered back to Rafe, you heard him coming through the kitchen door. 

He wiped the sweat from his forehead, pacing for a moment before his dark eyes landed on you, “Bambi, let’s … uhm, go upstairs,” His voice was shaky and deeper than normal, “Come here.”

“We’re-We’re just about to put the cake in the oven. It’s for tonight, and we’re going to make homemade icing too–”

“Now …please,” He said the last word like it was painful, “It’s time for you to go back to your room.”

No, no, no, a voice repeated in your head. 

“But Lana was going to teach me how to ice the cake, too and she —”

“Fine,” Rafe snapped, his hand slamming against the counter before he rolled his eyes, “Just stay here.” 

As Rafe stomped away, you knew you had something horribly wrong. You’d seen him in a similar mood before but he never directed any of his vitriol towards you before. Whatever had happened on the dock had clearly upset him. You really wanted to finish working with Lana. More than anything, you didn’t want to be locked in your room for another long period of time. 

After taking a breath, or attempting to take one, you turned to Lana, “I didn’t mean… I-I should go say sorry.”

“You might want to let him calm down a little bit, sweetheart,” You’d already made up your mind. You reached behind your neck to undo the top of your apron, “Turn around, let me help you. He’s not mad at you.”

“How do you know?”

“I know who he is,” She spoke simply, “Don’t take anything too personally with Mr. Cameron.”

“You can finish without me; I’m sorry, but thank you for today,” You said as you started to walk away. After you saw her nod, a sad smile on her face, you turned away and sped for the stairs. 

You approached Rafe’s bedroom moments later, hesitantly turning the knob, “Daddy?” You called, peeking inside. You called him again. He wasn’t in the main room but the shower was running in the bathroom, “Rafe?”

You jumped when he suddenly appeared in the bathroom doorframe, shirtless and his belt undone. This time, you notice his bruised hands and bloody knuckles. 

“I didn’t mean to make you upset, Daddy.”

“Get down on your knees,” He stared you down. When you tried to come closer, he said, “No, drop to your knees right there.”

You felt your knees brush against the bedroom rug, “Crawl to me.” 

If Rafe wanted you to feel even smaller, then his plan was successful. You did as he said, seeing no other option, and crawled towards him. You watched as he palmed himself over his briefs, and you could already feel him stretching you, pulling your hair, and leaving marks on your bottom. This wouldn’t last, you told yourself; he would be gentle with you another time. 

Your sage dress had ridden up your body, exposing your floral patterned white panties. 

“You’re gonna suck my cock and swallow all my cum. And then you’re gonna thank Daddy for letting you.”

You’d do exactly as your Daddy wanted, hoping he’d take your sore throat and tears as a sufficient apology. 

Once you were soundly asleep in his bed, Rafe slipped out. He had a huge, bloody problem waiting for him in the cabin of his boat. Luckily, JJ Maybank was still the degenerate he used to be, and no one except his Pogue girlfriend would come looking for him anytime, “Son of a bitch isn’t talking,” Barry grunted out, meeting Rafe at the beginning of the dock, “Knocked two of his bottom teeth out and he’s still not motivated.”

Rafe had done everything possible to limit any competition he might face in Kildare. All small-time dealers would be working for someone who worked for Rafe. This was meant to be Rafe’s island yet somehow, Maybank was getting supplies from the mainland and was stealing his customers. 

“We could take his girl.”

Rafe contemplated Barry’s question before shaking his head, “If she comes around trying to find him, we might have no choice. I’m sure that will motivate him.”

Rafe could see Barry’s eyes wandering to Kie. Part of him would love to see JJ squirm if they got their hands on her. You were the reason he didn’t think too long about that. Barry, on the other hand, Rafe would let him do whatever he wanted with Kie. In the end, Rafe wanted JJ to talk, to give up his sources, but he’d be just fine killing him. 

“I hope,” Barry crossed his arms, “Not exactly looking forward to dealing with the body.”

“We don’t have to deal with that shit anymore; I know who to pay to handle it,” Rafe said, “Speaking of, I think I-uh need some more security here. I want guards all around the perimeter. Because of the amount of merchandise and if we’re going to be taking captives, you know. I want this place to be a fortress.”

“Your merchandise, huh?” Barry flashed Rafe a knowing look, “You got any liquor in that big house?”

Rafe gestured his head toward the house, signaling to Barry to follow behind him. 

“If Kie doesn’t come for him and if he still has no information to offer us, we kill him. No more torture, no mess, one gunshot to the temple,” Rafe instructed, his mind racing with what their next moves should be. The more planning beforehand, the better, and the less likely it would come back to them, “That’ll send a message to the rest of the Pogues too. They work for me, or they work for no one.”

“And after you’ve cornered the market?”

“That’s just the start of everything else,” Rafe led Barry through the first floor, towards his office. Ward always used to keep his office stocked with liquor as it came in handy for important meanings. Rafe learned people will often let down their barriers and concede to more under the influence of alcohol. He opened the door for him, allowing him to enter. 

“Whoa,” Barry said, walking inside just as Rafe heard a soft gasp from a familiar voice. Eyebrows raised, Rafe entered behind him to find what had shocked him, “Is this the new Mrs. Cameron?”

With wide eyes, Rafe took you in. You were in the same clothes Rafe left you in, one of his white button-ups and your knee-high socks, “What are you doing down here?” You slowly stepped behind Rafe’s desk, and he could tell you were trying to hide yourself.

“I-I couldn’t find you.”

Rafe’s jaw jutted forward, his arms crossed, as he said, “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

Your lips parted to say something, but Barry interrupted, “C’mon, man, it’s not even midnight! Introduce me to your girl. We can all have a drink,” He grabbed ahold of Rafe’s shoulder. You would think Barry had one the lottery based on the look in his eyes. By complete accident, Barry had stumbled on Rafe’s biggest treasure, “I’ll behave, I promise.”

“She doesn’t drink.”

 Rafe was frustrated, mostly because he should’ve been keeping closer track of you. He’d given you that necklace for a reason. A new idea crossed his mind, one he wasn’t expecting, and some of his anxiety eased. He was far from embarrassed of you, he’d chosen you for a reason, but part of Rafe wanted Barry to envy him at that moment. 

Rafe sighed, waving you closer to the two of them, “Bambi, this is Barry. Barry, this is Bambi,” Smoothly, Rafe grabbed ahold of your waist, pulling you into him. 

“Hi,” You said shyly, “It’s nice to meet you.” 

 When Barry held his hands out to you, your eyes darted towards Rafe as if to ask permission. Agreement crossed his face, and Rafe watched you shake his hand. Barry was fully taking you in, of course, but Rafe knew a handshake would be the extent of his closeness with you. 

“The pleasure is all mine, beautiful.”

“Chill out, dude. Sit down,” Rafe instructed Barry, pulling you along. 

Barry made himself comfortable on the leather couch and Rafe motioned you to sit across in one of the leather chairs. 

“How you liking Kildare?” 

“It’s really nice,” Rafe heard you respond as he poured two glasses of whiskey for him and Barry, “There’s so many big houses, and … it’s just really pretty.”

“You ain’t seen much then, have you?” Rafe handed Barry his glass, flashing a warning with his eyes, “All the girls where you’re from, they as pretty as you?”

“I . . . I don’t know,” You laughed nervously. 

Rafe placed a hand on your shoulder, and you looked up at him,  “Why don’t you go get Barry a slice of that chocolate cake you made?” 

Rafe assumed it would ease your nervousness if you could share what you made. “Okay, Daddy,” You smiled at both men, and both men watched you closely as you walked out of the room, “I’ll be right back.”

“Pretty and obedient,” Barry whistled, “I need to travel more.”

A/N: Thank you all so much for your support on the first two chapters BUT psa you will not be added to my taglist if you're not reblogging the fic and letting me know your thoughts! It is crazy to me that people will ask me to tag them in the next chapter when they have neither liked nor reblogged the fic. Constructive feedback is more encouraging than just commenting "PART 4" or "tag me in part 4" :)

PART 4

[moonstruckme]

hey babe!! i’ve been re reading all ur fics and i keep thinking about how lovely your one with remus and the reader who goes nonverbal is! i was wondering if you’d be down to write something like that again? maybe the first time r goes nonverbal with remus and him being worried but really caring once he realises what’s happening? or something w poly!marauders? it’s up to you!!!

i hope u are having a fantastic day!

smooches, rosa (mareagirls) 😽

Hi rosa my love! Thank you for requesting, I really hope you're doing alright <333

cw: reader is overstimulated, goes nonverbal

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

“Excuse us,” Remus says, pushing your cart between two others with you following closely on his heels. “Excuse me, sorry, can I just—yeah, thanks.” 

He knows better than to save his shopping for a Sunday. Unfortunately, the two of you had been too cozy watching movies and eating ice cream last night to think of the consequences, and now his apartment is completely out of food. 

“How do you feel about cinnamon raisin bagels?” Remus asks you. He feels like he almost has to shout to be heard in the mayhem of the supermarket. 

You shrug and make a noncommittal humming sound. 

“Fair enough.” He puts them back, grabbing the regular ones. “I know I can’t finish a pack before they go bad, so I’ll need your help.” 

Ordinarily, you might tease him about the unfairness of placing this responsibility on your shoulders, or quip that simply having James over would solve any problems of excess food quickly enough, but right now you don’t seem inclined to. You’ve been oddly reserved since you entered the store, your usual attempts at conversation petering off as if you’re trying to offset the noise of it all with your own quiet. 

Remus looks back at his list. “Oh, did you want to make that macaroni salad this week?” 

Another shrug and a sort of half nod, as though you do but you’re hesitant to say it. 

“We can, dove.” He gives you a small smile. “What do we need for that?”

Your eyes fall from his, going somewhere he can’t reach as your lip dents like you’re chewing on the inside. A child who’s commandeered a cart pushes it into you roughly, causing you to take an unwilling step forward. Remus folds you in between him and your own cart, giving the child’s mother a severe look. 

“Hey,” he says to you gently, “you okay?” 

Your throat moves with a swallow. You’re looking more and more in distress the more he looks at you, shoulders tight and the faintest of lines in between your brows. 

Remus is starting to worry. He clasps the back of your arm kindly, rubbing up and down. “Can you talk to me, dovey?” 

Your features pinch suddenly, and you shake your head. 

His mind whirs. “Let’s get out of here,” he says in the softest tone he can manage, letting his grip slip down to your hand. “Let’s go, sweetheart, okay?” 

This, you seem more than amenable to. You clutch his hand just as tightly as he clutches yours, allowing Remus to lead you through the aisles to the exit. He feels a bit guilty about leaving the full cart where it is, but he’ll deal with that later. 

The parking lot isn’t much better than in the store, but the inside of his car feels like a tiny bubble of peace. Remus sits sideways in his seat, assessing you worriedly. You’ve stopped chewing your lip, but the line between your brows has worsened, your eyes closing as you take a deep breath through your nose. 

“Are you alright?” he asks. 

You nod, exhaling. 

“Can I hug you? Would that help at all?” 

Your eyes open as you nod again, reaching for him. Remus doesn’t make you do the work, practically crawling over the center console to wrap you up. He pushes his palm in between your shoulder blades, imagining his affection pouring into you through it. You make a tiny sound, nestling your face into the crook of his neck and shoulder. 

You stay like that for some time. Remus takes his cues from you, hugging you as long as you grip him tight and swaying back and forth a bit when that seems to help. His worry has crawled all the way up his throat, but it feels better just having you in his arms like this, knowing he’s got you close. 

After a while you let out a little sigh and loosen your grip. Remus lets you slip away, trailing his touch down to your forearms. 

“Feeling any better?” he asks, fully prepared to do whatever needs to be done if you say no. But you nod, and the tension in his chest eases slightly. “Yeah? Are you able to tell me what’s going on?” 

You start to chew your lip again, but Remus tsks, pressing his thumb into your chin so it comes free. 

“It’s alright if not, dovey.” 

You shy a bit, then open his glove box, taking out one of the small napkins he’s stowed away from past takeaway orders. Next you pop open his center console, digging around until you find a pen. 

“You want to write it down?” he asks, realizing. “That pen’s shit, let me find you a better one…here.” 

You take the pen from him with a hesitant smile, leaning down over his dash to write. Remus tries not to appear too nosy, looking out the window and watching people move past as you scribble on the napkin. Eventually, you hand it to him. 

Your handwriting is not at its best given the surface you’ve had to do it on, but he can make it out. You’ve explained, as succinctly as you can, what happened in the store. That this is something that happens to you from time to time, and that you’ll be okay in a while. 

Remus tsks as he finishes, lowering the napkin. “Sweetheart, I wish you’d said you were overwhelmed when we went in there. I would’ve taken us home.” You shrug, looking down at your hands. He takes one in his own, thumbing over the bumps of your knuckles. “How about this. I’m going to tell you an idea, and you let me know if it sounds good to you. Yeah?” 

You look up, nodding tentatively. 

“I’ll go back in and buy what we’ve gotten already, and then we’ll go back to my place and cuddle until it feels like we never left. Okay?” 

This time your nod is downright eager, a sort of relief in your eyes. 

Remus smiles, leaning over to kiss your cheek. “Alright, lovely. Don’t go anywhere.” 

[steddie-island]

Tender Headed

I saw this post by @mothofmyth and couldn't stop myself. I hope this does your idea justice. ❤️ ao3 | Divider by @cafekitsune

Someone else was standing at Steve’s usual station, instead of his usual girl. 

It wasn’t a girl at all. 

“Hey! Do you have an appointment?” not-regular-stylist asked.

“No– yes? I, uh– I have a standing appointment. With Kayla?” Steve brushed his fingers through his hair and looked around at the otherwise empty salon. 

He’d been looking forward to this for weeks, practically since the end of his last appointment. The thought of having to cancel, of having to reschedule because she was out sick or something– it made Steve’s skin feel too tight, itchy.

It made tears prick at his eyes like this was a bigger deal than just a stupid haircut. 

Which. Okay, maybe it was for him, but it’s not like any of the stylists, like this stranger , needed to know that. 

“Are you okay, man?”

Steve blinked, bringing the man back into focus again. He was pretty, with long curls piled up on top of his head and a delicate black hoop hanging from his septum. His cut off sleeves showed the ink decorating his arms and disappearing under the fabric. 

He had to shake himself to bring the man’s voice back, to stop ogling him. 

“--won’t be back for a few months,” he was explaining. 

“What?” Steve knew this guy probably thought he was an idiot, but his mind was thick and sticky and nothing this guy was saying was sticking. 

“Early maternity leave,” he said again, patiently. “I’m Eddie, I’m taking her station over while she’s gone.” He gestured to the empty salon again. “I don’t have any appointments right now, if you’re cool with a substitute…” 

Steve almost turned around, but there was something about the wide brown eyes that fixed on him that made him stay. 

“I… sure. Yeah.” It wasn’t like he was that attached to his hair anyway. Yeah, he wanted it to look good, but not to the point that everyone else thought he did. 

It wasn’t about the haircut. 

He followed Eddie back to the washing station. Even though this was a stranger who was going to be taking care of him, Steve still felt a shiver go through him as he got situated. 

There were a few clinks, metal against ceramic. Steve tipped his head back enough to see Eddie removing several chunky rings and placing them in a little dish. A towel was rolled up carefully and placed beneath his neck. 

“Tell me if this is too much.” 

The water was cool, which Steve was prepared for. What he wasn’t prepared for was the way those long delicate fingers touched him. Kayla was gentle, but it was nothing like this. 

The way Eddie scrubbed so carefully at his scalp made Steve melt. Each fingertip was so deliberate in its movements, in the way his hair was gathered back and brushed out of his face. Eddie’s fingers trailed over his ear and Steve had to bite his lip. 

Maybe this was too much, but he couldn’t stop it. 

He’d never been handled like this. No one had ever touched him like he was a delicate, breakable thing. Sure, he cuddled with Robin. He got to hug the kids, and Joyce, and Claudia.

But this was… something else. 

Eddie wasn’t getting anything out of this– not the same way everyone else got something, like, paying him for his service was different, right? 

Steve was going to see it as that, anyway. He imagined Eddie wasn’t touching him like this because he was getting a big tip from it. 

He imagined that Eddie was brushing water off of his forehead with a knuckle because he just wanted to know what the skin felt like there. Those calloused fingers were tucking the hair behind his ears because he wanted to study the curve of his tragus– maybe wondering what Steve would look like with a hoop there, like the one in his own ear. 

Eddie’s thumb was wiping away water from his cheeks because he wanted to know if Steve’s cheeks were rough with stubble or not, and not because this was just a professional courtesy.

Only maybe this wasn’t a professional courtesy. 

Because it wasn’t just water that Eddie had sprayed on him. Steve was fucking crying . 

He wanted to run, but before he could even get up Eddie was putting a damp hand on his shoulder. 

“Stay. You’re okay.” Eddie’s voice was a low rumble that Steve wanted to hide in. “I’ve got you, big boy.” 

How was Steve supposed to not listen to that? He settled back into the chair and let Eddie rinse away the shampoo. Then those nimble hands were working the conditioner into his hair just as gently. The touches were a little more solid now, though. Eddie’s fingers grazed his neck, touched his cheek, wiped more tears from his cheeks. 

“You’re not the only person who comes in here for this.” Steve couldn’t even find the words to ask if he was that transparent. It wasn’t like the crying couldn’t have been from him being tender headed, or from the water being too hot. He was too focused on Eddie speaking to him to try to make excuses for himself. 

Eddie’s voice was soft and low. It was comforting, and it wasn’t hard for Steve to imagine how he would sound if he were singing, the way the words would wrap around him. Would it make him feel the same way he felt with his hair wrapped around Eddie’s hands? 

He was in the shampoo chair for three times as long as he normally would be. Eddie took his time with the conditioner and gave it extra time to sit. He was just as thorough about rinsing it, then about working a smoothing serum through his strands. 

By the time Eddie was wrapping Steve’s hair loosely in a towel and sitting him up, Steve was feeling lighter than he’d felt in months. He figured he should have felt raw and vulnerable, and there was a little bit of that, but Eddie’s presence was calming. Maybe it was the way he chattered as he started working on Steve’s hair. He talked about other customers, about his uncle, about how he’d been doing his own hair for years. He even brought up the time he’d burnt his hair with bleach so bad he’d had to give himself a buzzcut, because that was better than the spongy mess he’d left himself with. 

Steve started opening up, too, by the time Eddie was drying and styling his hair. He talked about his own worst haircut, about the time Robin had let him bleach her hair and she had ended up with a streak of green in her hair instead of blue. At least it had been cute, though. 

Eddie spritzed Steve’s hair once… twice… a third and then a fourth time before smiling at their reflections in the mirror. This close, and without tears in his eyes, Steve could see the dimples in his cheeks. 

“What do you think?” Eddie brushed his fingers over the ends of Steve’s hair, then dropped a hand to let the weight of it rest against his shoulder. 

“I think it’s great.” Steve smiled back at him. It looked the same as it did when Kayla had worked on it, but he’d never looked this good before. Maybe it was the cut, or maybe it was just the way Eddie had put something bright back into his eyes. 

Steve pulled his card out to pay but Eddie refused. 

“I think we both needed today,” he’d said before smiling and sliding his card across the counter. “I hope you come back and see me sometime, Stevie. I’m happy to take care of you anytime.” 

Normally Steve might take that as flirting– and maybe it was, the way Eddie’s dimples popped even more and his eyes really sparkled under the light. It wasn’t just flirting, though, and that made warmth blossom in Steve’s chest. 

“Yeah, man. Definitely.” Steve tucked the card away and turned for the door. “Actually…” He looked back at Eddie, who had picked up the broom. “Do you maybe want to get a drink after work?” 

Eddie’s grin was bright. “Hell yeah. Why do you think I didn’t charge you?” he teased. “I get off in an hour.”

Steve laughed with him. “Cool. I’ll see you in an hour, then.” 

---

As it turned out, Steve didn’t need to come back in an hour because he hadn’t left yet. He was still there, helping Eddie clean things up. They talked about the kids Steve babysat, and Eddie pointed out that maybe it was okay for him to just say they were hanging out, because fifteen and sixteen year olds didn’t tend to need babysitters anymore. 

They picked up food in Eddie’s van, and they drove to the quarry to eat sitting in the back of it, with the doors open and two milkshakes between them. 

When they shared their first kiss that night it tasted like salt and fake strawberries. They parted ways with plans to see each other again the next day.  

Maybe it was okay that Steve didn’t have a standing appointment with his usual stylist anymore. 

[seetangus]

Oh how about: Reader loving Azula throughout her mental health crisis and still visiting her in the asylum. So, as she heals, she realizes how much she loves the Reader… and maybe through the story, you could see her reactions to certain things like if R talked about another girl like Ty Lee or something, Azula would feel jelly but doesn’t understand why or if R talks about Zuko she may think she’d like Zuko more like their mother…

idk but it’s sounds fun and I know you are awesome at writing so I bet it’ll be good!

Healing - Azula x reader

[Masterlist]

Azula x gn reader, no warnings

1.897 words, I hope you like it! :)

The metal door closed audibly, its movement making the torches close to it flicker. They barely spent enough light to make things visible in the cell. Now you two were alone.

Azula sat in front of you, tied to a metal chair in a straitjacket. It was a humiliating treatment for a princess, you thought. Still, your heart felt great relief from seeing her again after several months of waiting. It had been difficult to convince the new fire lord Zuko and his comrades to let you visit Azula, as you were considered dangerous due to your loyalty to princess Azula that you had maintained even during the last days of the war. But here you were, finally seeing her, the one your heart ached for, again.

“Hello Azula. I am happy to see you again.”, you said truthfully but very quietly. You did not dare asking her how she felt. Seeing Azula, who had always been so confident and strong in a weak and broken state like this intimidated you.

You could not make out what Azula was thinking. You had been told that she had for some time behaved like a raving maniac, screaming and trying to attack anyone who came close to her. But that phase seemed to be over now. It was obvious Azula was mentally still in a very precarious situation, but right now she was rather calm. At least it seemed like she was.

“What are you doing here, y/n.”, she asked. Your heart jumped at hearing her voice, even if it sounded differently than before. What she said did not sound like a question, but you still answered: “I wanted to see you.” Quieter, you added: “Maybe you need someone to talk to.”

A small silence followed. You could tell that Azula was, even if it had been months, still very stressed and angry about her defeat against Zuko. Still, with a heartwarming effort, Azula tried to initiate a peaceful conversation by asking you about the current situation of the fire nation and other wide-ranging topics. You happily answered all her questions. The conversation got more concrete when she asked about her old friends. Ty Lee, Mai, Iroh and even her brother Zuko. All the ones that had betrayed her. You told about their new positions and how they behaved. You also told her that, as you had remained in your position in the royal palace even after the changing of the fire lord, you were somehow reconnecting with some of them, even if it went slowly.

While listening to you, Azula increasingly looked lost. You would have expected her to be angry at the traitors taking her place in the hierarchy of the fire nation, but she seemed to worry about something entirely different. Nevertheless you talked with eachother until the visiting time was over and the guards ordered you to leave. You also realised your eyes hurt because of the dim light in the cell - it must be painful for Azula to stay here all day.

Having left her cell, a guard told you that they had feared for the worst and were surprised at how calm Azula had been with you. You couldn’t imagine why that was either.

< • ◇ • >

A few weeks passed until your next visit. In that time Azula had changed much; you were told she was still a bit unpredictable, but her violent outbursts had ended completely and she was overall more stable. That had led to the guards daring to attach extra torches to the walls of her cell, finally making the room brighter so your eyes didn’t hurt anymore. The whole atmosphere was different this visit, it was less depressing.

This time you greeted her a bit more confidently and with a smile. It would have been hard not to smile when seeing your loved one feel better. She also looked better than last time - her hair looked less messy and she did not have bags under her eyes. You were genuinely happy it went uphill with her, and you didn’t hide it:

“Hello Azula, you look beautiful today!”

Your warm greeting seemed to have catched Azula off guard; you could see she hesitated a bit before answering, and you even saw her blush a bit, but surely it was only the warm light of the torches combined with your own feelings that made you imagine it. Azula wouldn’t blush. Once Azula answered though, she did so with her old attitude: “Of course I look good, y/n. Did you expect me not to?”

That might not have been the most welcoming and thankful answer she could have given, but at least it proved she really felt better, more like back when she wasn’t here. Ah, you couldn’t wait for when she would boss you around and insult anyone else again like in the good ol’ days.

But enough of the dreaming, back to reality! Azula simply made you tell her anything that you thought might interest her. She said she TRUSTED you on choosing the right topics. That was obviously a very unusual thing for her to say but you took it as a compliment and started speaking, mostly about how things changed under the rule of her brother and how the people she knew behaved. Every time you spoke about Ty Lee or Mai you could see her eyebrows furrow and she did not comment again until you changed topics. When you mentioned that Mai and Zuko were a couple, her whole face lit up and she interrupted you, exclaiming: “Ha! That’s fantastic! Isn’t it great, y/n?” You agreed but Azula suddenly feeling happy for her brother genuinely confused you.

Anyhow, Azula soon seemed to become annoyed by the things you told her about the people she knew. After some time she simply cut you off and said: “Yes yes uncle Iroh’s new tea shop is interesting and I should care but I want you to tell me more about yourself.” At first, you were dumbfounded, but since she seemed to really be interested (and also since it was impossible not to fulfill any request of hers anyways), you talked about yourself for the rest of your visit.

Some time later, the guards opened the door and told you to leave. You had already said good-bye to Azula and turned to go away, but she suddenly made a harsh move with her head, loosening a few strands of her hair that now dangled down. “Oh y/n, before you leave, would you be so kind and fix this?”, she purred with unusual kindness, inevitably making you feel butterflies.

Hesitantly, you turned around and lifted your hand to her beautiful hair, gently brushing it back into place. She just smirked triumphantly and let you leave. You couldn’t put into words how heavenly you had felt that moment, despite the stares of the guards.

After you were gone, Azula thought about what had happened. Why had she done this. Making her hair messy on purpose to ask you to fix it. Not that it hadn’t felt good, feeling human touch after months of deprivation had actually felt awesome, she just genuinely did not know why she had suddenly felt the need to get your attention. And why did she feel so hurt when you talked about Ty Lee or Mai? She did not like not knowing the answer to something, so she was determined to get it the next time you visited.

< • ◇ • >

You did not let Azula wait for long. As quickly as the harsh regulations of the Asylum allowed, you returned. According to the guards, who prepared you for the visit, Azula had been behaving much better: there had been no angry outbursts or attempts to harm anyone at all since your last visit.

Luckily for Azula, her good behaviour had led to an even greater improvement in the furnishing of her cell: the torches had been replaced with lanterns who emitted a brightness that somewhat resembled daylight, making it much more bearable to stay in her cell.

“How do you feel, Azula?”

“I’m well, y/n. Actually, it is very relieving that you are here now, because I can finally ask you some very important questions.”

Naturally, Azula saying your name made you feel butterflies. She sounded almost like her old self again. “I’m happy to answer anything you ask me.”, you assured, excited about what questions she could have for you. You looked at her expectantly.

She also only looked at you instead of asking questions. Well, she did not just ‘look’, she seemed to have… found something on you that interested her very much. More than any question she could ask you.

“Your eyes look very happy, y/n.”, she suddenly said.

You had not been prepared for that. Your eyes widened, making Azula grin. It was not her usual grin, though. It seemed like this grin was not fueled by self-absorption and superiority as it had been until now, but rather Azula seemed to be genuinely happy, feeling real joy. You had never seen that on her before, so naturally you were very happy for her! And for yourself, for being able to witness such a beautiful moment and being part of it.

“Oh I wish the visits weren’t this short.”, Azula said, her gaze still venturing in the depth of your eyes. You were a bit confused. “Azula, the visit has just started - we have plenty of time. Also, I will come back soon! As soon as possible!”, you quickly assured.

Azula tried getting closer to you, but she was restrained by her chains. You had both almost forgotten about them. “Y/n, I do not only want to be with you during visits.”

You were speechless. All your blood was gathering in your head and your voice decided this would be a good moment to give up. “A-azula … I want to see you more often too…” you mustered up all the courage you had. “In fact”, you gulped, “I feel pained in every moment we are separated from eachother.”

Azula smirked and lifted her nose up, making her look as powerful as before; she was clearly enjoying you being flustered. But there was something different, something new in her eyes. Something that had not been there a few months ago, and that had grown each time you visited her.

“You like me, y/n, don’t you?”

Azula lowered her head, and it seemed like there even was a bit of worry or insecurity in her voice when she asked again: “You do, right?”

“Yes Azula, I do.”

You wanted to hug her, caress her and hold her close, but knowing that the guards would rush in and restrain you, it was better to remain sitting. You did not hold back expressing your affection verbally, though.

Azula was, like always, the first one to regain her composure, and you tried to do so as well, although it was not easy.

“Well, it’s settled then.", Azula said.

“... What’s settled?”, you asked, unsure of what she meant.

“When I get out of here,'' Azula answered, “I will arrange that we see eachother much more often than we currently do and that the royal family welcomes a new member. And now tell me again how much you love me, y/n.”

[creamhoodie]

You Belong To Me

AN: Short Gojo drabble, he fails at being friends with benefits with you. tags: nsfw, fwb, afab reader, satoru gojo x reader

“What are you doing here with him?” a voice you’d recognize anywhere asks. His fingers run down your bare skin, the open back of your dress giving him easy access. 

You look up at him, his eyes blind folded but you know him well enough to recognize when he seems irritable by the rigid line his mouth formed. 

“I’m on a date, what does it look like, Gojo?” you reply, taking a sip of your shot that the bartender placed in front of you. 

Strobe lights and techno music filled the nightclub making him look more striking as the lights hit his white hair.

“Since when are we back to last name basis?” Satoru chuckles. 

His fingers still grace your back, the brief contact is enough to be electrifying, he knows just as much, seeming almost smug about the effect he has on you. 

“Since you interrogate me about my personal life,” you reply.

You look around, your date had wandered off to the restroom a few minutes ago and should be back soon. 

“Am I not part of your personal life? As I remember you and I were close just a few nights ago,” he teases. 

Your mind flashes back to being tangled in his sheets, him on top of you and you moaning his name as he-

“I remember,” you say, stopping your thoughts in their tracks,”but I also remember the terms of our.. ‘relationship.’”

He laughs. 

“You’re mad at me?” He asks. He bends down so he’s right at your earlobe, nibbling lightly. All the while his fingers stay drawing figures into your skin. 

“I am not mad,” you reply.

A lie. 

Oh yes you knew the terms of your relationship with him well. You had a friends with benefits arrangement with him. He had told you from the beginning ‘I don’t do relationships.’ 

That did nothing to dwindle the chemistry between the two of you and so several nights of the week you’d stay over at his place. You had reminded yourself, just because he laid kisses down your neck,breathed in your scent, and held onto you as if you were the anchor holding him to this Earth it didn’t mean he loved you. 

So it shouldn’t have come as a shock when you saw another woman’s perfume and hygiene items at his place one evening.

“You know what I think,” he places a kiss on your shoulder that sends shivers down your spine,”I think you’re a liar.”

A throat clears making you jump. 

Your date is back. 

He’s the type of man no one wants to see a woman they're involved with accompanied by. He’s muscular with dark cropped hair. You barely knew him, he had only propositioned you by contacting you through your socials.

“Oh Gojo this is my date,” you say.

Satoru takes his time straightening up, his lips remaining on your shoulder as if he’s almost daring your date to say something about it. He doesn’t.

At last Satoru straightens up and outstretches a hand.

“Nice to meet you,” he says. 

Your date goes to shake it but he can’t seem to reach, almost as if there’s a barrier preventing him from touching Satoru. 

“Can you give us a moment alone?” you ask your date. 

He seems flushed from the handshake mishap and obliges.

When he’s out of earshot you turn to Satoru.

“That was mean of you, toying with him like that,” you say. 

Satoru tsks. 

“You’re seriously not gonna go home with that guy right?” he asks tugging at a strand of your hair. 

“And if I do, what business is it of yours?” you counter.

You guzzle the full shot glass now, it burns down your throat. 

“It is my business, because I care about you. Trust me I’m familiar with guys like him and they are no good,” he says. 

“And you’re better?” 

He laughs.

“In more ways than you can imagine.” 

You ask the bartender for another shot but Satoru waves him off.

“Hey-“ 

“You don’t need any more of that. You’re gonna wind up getting drunk,” he says. 

You face him fully now as your annoyance with him is at a peak. You don’t have to see his eyes to know he’s staring at your cleavage.

“Come home with me,” he says, his voice full of heat and lust. 

“I’m on a date,” you remind him. 

He scoffs.

“The nightclub? Some date. He only wants to fuck you.”

“And you don’t? What are you doing here anyways?” Perhaps he was also here with someone, you wouldn’t put it pass him. Maybe he was here with the mysterious woman whose products were back at his place.

“I’m here because you’re here, and you belong to me.”

____

“Mmm, just like that baby,” he whispers, his fingers spread your folds. He relishes your arousal.

His blind fold, long removed, serves as a sort of handcuff for you, tying your hands above your head on his bed frame. 

“Toru.. untie me,” you plead. You long to touch him, his white hair especially which was always so sinfully soft. 

“Not yet. You were a bad girl going out like that,” he says stern.

His fingers push upwards, just enough to soak themselves inside of you. When he retracts them, he brings them up to your lips with the simple demand of “suck.” 

You do, opening your mouth to taste yourself on his thick fingers. He watches, his blue eyes total flames full of lust. 

He pushes his fingers deeper, just down your throat enough to make you gag. He can be so mean when he’s jealous as you’re finding out. 

Pulling back his fingers, he begins to undo his belt.

“Toru my arms hurt,” you beg. 

“And you didn’t think it hurt for me to see you with someone else like that?” he asks, unyielding. 

His pants and boxers have been removed for his big cock to be plopping out, it’s firm already, the tip angry and reddened. 

He shoves it against your lips.

“Open up,” he pants. 

Your lips open around his shaft and you begin to suck him off. His hands go to your head, hands on each side to stabilize you and force you to take him. He helps you, bobbing your head up and down, his cock hitting the back of your throat. It burns even more than the shot did and tears begin to stream from your eyes.

“You’re so dumb, you’re so dumb baby were you going to let him fuck you? You don’t need anyone else, you have me.” 

You wanted to remind him that he’s the one who said he doesn’t do relationships, he’s the one who had told you not to expect exclusivity. But he was full of himself; his statement might have been only applicable for himself, and you were full of him, unable to speak, unable to do anything else but moan in muffles as his cock rammed your throat. 

You feel him finish, the saltiness of his fluid running down your throat. He pulls out of your mouth, letting you swallow and recollect yourself. 

“Toru, my arms,” you pant, catching your breath. 

He goes to untie you, and as your hands slip free you reach for him but there’s an invisible barrier..

“Turn it off Satoru, that's not fair!” you cry out. 

“Why should I? You have your little boyfriend to touch don’t you?” he teases. 

He’s enjoying this, making you grovel.

“He’s not my boyfriend. He sent me a DM and asked if I wanted to meet up,” you explain. 

He lifts a brow and cocks his head to the side.

“How romantic,” he sneers. 

“Satoru please. I’m sorry just turn it off,” you beg. You watch as he makes matters worse by removing his shirt, his muscles exposed. He knows that you loved touching them, loved running your hands over his abs and especially his muscled back whilst he was inside you. 

“I’ll turn it off when you answer why you went out with him,” he says. 

You’re frustrated both emotionally and sexually. 

“Because you said we’re not exclusive. You said you don’t do relationships,” you remind him. 

He huffs.

“Never bothered you before,” he says. 

“Well I just think it’s hypocritical that you get to have women over leaving their belongings but god forbid I go out on a date.”

His eyes widen in understanding at your words, followed by a playful twinkle. 

The barrier comes down and he comes up to you, kissing your lips passionately. Your hands run through his hair and he moans. His soft tongue connects with yours and you feel like he may devour you, may swallow you whole. 

Suddenly, he repositions you so you’re laying on your stomach and he pins your hands behind your back all in one swift motion.

He leans down so he can speak right into your ear.

“I know what I said. But you’re mine. You belong to me. What I do or don’t do doesn’t change that. You’ll always be mine when I want you.” 

Then you hear the ripping of your dress as he discards it and your panties off you completely. You hadn’t been wearing a bra, a fact he had noticed all too well when he had been staring at your cleavage in the club. 

You moan as you feel his length drag down your back like a wand all the way down until it was pressed between your wet folds. 

“F-fuck..so fucking tight,” he groans as he shoves his way in from the back. “This is my pussy. All mine. Don’t need some idiot ruining what belongs to me.” 

He’s bottomed out inside of you and your hands grip the bed sheets as he begins to thrust. 

“Satoru.. not so fast,” you moan as you feel his hands gripping your hair. 

But he’s grunting, and not holding back. 

“Feels so fucking good,” he moans delirious. 

The thing about Satoru is he can forget how well endowed he is, well not truly forget he is much too prideful for that, but he fails to understand just how it can feel for you. It’s only when you reach around and grip his wrist that he slows down a bit, laughing. “Sorry baby, I know it can be too much.” 

He slides out of you reluctantly and turns you on your back so you’re facing him. He puts you both in an intimate mating press as he slides into your pussy from the front now. He drives himself in so deep all the way into you until it’s at the base. 

“Mmm.. that’s it. Can you feel me here?” He asks his hand pressing down on your stomach where his thick dick bulges, your eyes roll back in pleasure.

“Yes, ‘Toru. I feel you,” you cry out. 

“Good because you’re mine. You understand that? Get that into your pretty little head only I can fuck you here.”

He gives you a sloppy tongue filled kiss while he moves inside you, slowly and deliberately. You feel every ridge, every detail of his flesh and you can feel his pulse inside of you like it’s your own. 

Your hips buck up to meet his thrusts, needing more of him as the two of you kiss. 

You’re breathless as his lips move to your neck and still his strokes are so deliberately slow as if he wants you to memorize how he feels. 

Your hands go to his muscled back now, loving to leave scratches and love marks and he throws his head back and groans. 

“I’m gonna fucking cum, and it’s going right inside of you. I don’t wanna hear any protests, you got it?” He says his eyes are possessive and wild. 

You nod, in the mood he’s in right now you doubt anyone could talk him out of anything. 

His strokes are faster now, the lewd sounds of wet skin against skin along with your shared moans fill the room. 

By the curling of your toes you can feel your own orgasm coming.

“I wanna hear you say you’re mine. Need to hear you say it,” he practically demands.

“I’m yours. All yours Satoru.”

Your grip on him is so tight and he all but explodes into you. It doesn’t seem to stop after the initial burst, a steady stream flowing into you.

“Yeah.. fuck.. milk me,” he moans riding out his high. He’s not selfish in bed however for him true pleasure comes from getting you off so he rides out his orgasm, hitting your sweet gummy spot over and over.

His hands grip your breasts, playing with the sensitive nipples and causing you to gasp in ecstasy. When he leans forward and sucks on your tit that along with his continuous hitting of your sensitive spot causes you to orgasm.

The sensation is like falling off a cliff, a high only he’s been able to consistently bring you to. The two of you lay there for a moment holding onto each other’s sweaty bodies and catching your breath. Of course it is Satoru that breaks the silence.

“Can your little boyfriend make you feel that good?” 

______

After cleaning up, you’re in bed with Satoru. This isn’t new of course, he isn’t the type to kick you out even if it is a friends with benefits situation. 

The difference is before the two of you would watch tv or be on your phones, or he’d roll over and go to sleep.

Tonight is different.

He had held out his arms and told you to “come here.”

So you lay against his chest as he stroked your hair. 

It’s strange at first, but it feels right and so natural.

He clears his throat.

“So listen…will you be seeing that guy again?” he asks, trying to appear nonchalant.

You look up at him.

“No, I won’t.” 

He visibly relaxes.

“Good,” he says, the corner of his mouth slipping upwards into a smile.

“And you?” you ask.

He furrows his brow in confusion.

“What about me?” he asks.

“What about your mystery woman? The ones who has her items here,” you say with resentment in your voice. 

He shakes his head and laughs. 

“I bought those things for you, for when you stay over. I didn’t know what you used so I just bought some luxury brands. I just wanted the place to be stocked in case you ever forgot anything,” he says. 

You blush at his words. The only reason you had even gone out with that guy was because you were under the impression Satoru was entertaining someone else.

“And how do I know you don’t keep the place stocked for other women you bring over?” you ask.

His face darkens and is serious.

“Because there are no other women. Not for me. There’s only you.”

He says it with such sincerity you have to believe him.

“Sounds pretty exclusive…” your voice trails. 

“I want it to be. Tonight made me realize that I minded, no I more than minded seeing you with someone else,” he says. 

“Then how come before you said you don’t do relationships or any of that stuff?” you ask confused. 

He sighs and strokes your hair for a bit before answering.

“I have a habit of loving too hard. I can be suffocating, this you know well. I can be jealous. I can be too much. I just didn’t want to stifle you or scare you away. But I don’t want to leave it open ended anymore because that’s not the solution either. I can’t watch other guys try to swoop in.” 

His blue eyes look a thousand years old for a moment, then they are back to their playful self.

“So where does that leave us?” you ask. 

“It means you are stuck with me forever, baby. Whether you like it or not.”

AN: I am obsessed with possessive, jealous Gojo so I will be drabbling a lot about that. Also I described the date like Toji on purpose as an Easter Egg :)

[thepastdied]

hi! i was wondering if i could have something with virgin!eddie cumming in his pants or too early and he’s whimpering and whining about it but reader lets him know that she finds it hot? thank you in advance if you do it! if not then thank you for letting me ask at least 😊

Yes, yes- and yes. Of fucking COURSE. This is actually one of the drafts I started!! I love this request 💕

18 + MDNI SMUT

virgin!eddie munson x cheerleader!reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

You'd kissed before. Once. It was only several seconds, and he was so awkward and sweet that it made you fall harder for him. You thought that maybe he'd ask you out after that, but sadly, he's been acting all weird and shy around you since. He was still his goofy self, but whenever you stood too close, he would clam up and make up a dumb excuse as to why he had to go. 

"Welp- gotta go see my friend John." He'd blurt before clumsily throwing himself into the boys bathroom.

You'd been relentlessly flirting with him for the last week. Week and a half? You lost count. You began upping up the amp a little more each day until he got red in the face and it made you go nuts.

Eddie was at his locker, scratching his nose as he quizzically looked around his basically empty locker.

"I swear it was in here- Jesus fucking Christ!" His back hit the wall as he gripped his chest, eyes wild as he finally noticed you'd been standing just a foot behind him.

"Jeez, you're on edge." You snorted at him.

He swallowed and lightly shrugged before slamming his locker shut and spitting his hair from his lips.

"Don't you have somewhere to be, sweetheart?" His eyes left yours and landed on the obnoxiously loud group of jocks that were trotting down the hallway, all hyped up and ready for the game.

Yeah, in your pants.

"Miss you, Eddie.." You stepped forward once the hallway was cleared and gripped his vest, pulling him closer. A whimper bubbled in his throat.

"Y..you miss me?" Eddie blinked a few times, mouth slightly agape when you took your bottom lip in between your teeth and nodded.

You harshly pulled him from the locker and just a short way down the hall, stopping in front of the janitor's closet and ripping the door open.

"Holy shit you're strong- Oh my god, what are you doing?" He stumbled into the closet and held his hands up as you took your hair out of your ponytail sexily. "Okay- You look like you want to chew me up and spit me out-"

"Eddie." You snapped.

"What.." He breathed, licking his lips as he watched you do the same and letting his shoulders slump down.

"Shut up." You stalked toward him and smirked as he dumbly nodded, placing his hands on your hips as you wrapped yours around his neck and pulling him down.

Eddie's eyes warmly looked into yours, a blush spreading across his cheeks.

"You're really pret-" He mumbled but was cut off as his nose touched yours when you pushed yourself onto your toes.

Your fingers dug into the nape of his neck as you crashed your lips into his. It was harsh yet still sweet, your tongue sliding across his bottom lip before biting down. He made a noise that you'd never imagine he could make and pulled your hips tightly against his and, fuck, he was hard. You wanted to hear that noise again.

You pulled away from him, moving your head back slightly and tutting when he chased your lips. Your hands slid down his body, feeling his heart hammer when they moved over his chest and body shiver when they met his torso and pelvis. Your fingers brushed against his hard on through his tight jeans before palming him firmly. Eddie's hand shot out to grab onto a shelf, taking a few steps backward to lean against the wall. You stepped forward and pressed a kiss to his neck, sucking and nibbling there as he moaned and panted, snaking a hand up your side and toward your breasts. 

"You're so hard, Eddie. All I did was kiss you." You laughed and shook your head, placing messy kisses up his neck and along his jaw, his rough stubble scraping against your lips.

"You wanna touch me?" You raised your brows as you looked into his glazed eyes.

"Y-yeah.. right here.." He somehow managed to muster, eyes darting to your boobs that were covered by your cheer uniform. "-please."

"Since you're such a good boy and answered without hesitation, of course. But you need to take my top off." You smirked up at him, another challenge.

Eddie audibly gulped as he pursed his lips. His hands were sweaty and fingers nimble. He'd thought about you touching him so, so many times. Having you whimper as he groped all over your body, chanting his name as you fucked yourself on his cock and he gave you praises. But when it came to actually being close to you, his flight response kicked in. You made him so nervous he wanted to throw up, but this was his opportunity to give it to you the way he wanted, the way you deserved. Hard. Messy. Deep.

But there was one very, very big problem.

He was a virgin and had no idea where to start.

You were completely overpowering him and it wasn't going how he imagined, but he was absolutely loving it nonetheless.

He took a deep breath through his nose and balled the hem of your uniform in his hands before swiftly pulling it over your head, grabbing onto your bare waist and pulling you flush against him.

That tiny spark of confidence quickly faded, but he mentally applauded himself for his brave action and for pulling out a shocked reaction from you. 

"What.. what now?" He cleared his throat when it cracked and glued his eyes to the pale pink bra you wore, the lace embellishments looking so delicate against your soft skin.

"Wow, Munson. I knew you had it in you." You palmed him harder. "Touch me."

"Fuck.. thank you." He whispered, groping his hands on the underside of your breasts, rubbing his thumb over where your nipples were under the fabric and feeling them harden.

He watched as the swell of your breasts puffed up as he squeezed, sighing at the sight and leaning down to kiss at the stretch marks on the top of your breasts.

You removed your hand from his crotch and tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him more into you and humming when he trailed his lips up to your collarbone, sucking the skin there and leaving a couple marks right where your skin is exposed when wearing your uniform. He grunted when you tugged and pulled away, slapping his hand on the back of your thigh just below your ass and lifting your leg up. You jumped and wrapped your legs around his waist. Eddie's nails bit harshly into your thighs as you pulled him tighter, his back up against the dusty and grimy wall of the janitor's closet.

"S-shit." He hissed when you set your pussy harder into his dick, grinding yourself against him and moaning as you threw your head back, your juices soaking through your panties and leaving a patch on his jeans. His grip got more harsh and he shut his eyes tightly when he looked down and noticed.

"Eddie! You're leaving marks-"

"Well l-let them see, then. Will… oh fuck… will s-show them you're taken." He splayed his hands over the crescents left behind from his nails.

He stepped toward the small table and set you down, roughly and feverntly grinding his hips into yours, whimpering as he watched where your bodies met.

"Want you inside me, Eddie."

"Want me to f-fill you up, huh? I can… I can do that-" He choked and stiffened, eyes wide.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck wait stop-" He whimpered, panting and begging for you to stop your movements. 

A guttural moan erupted from his chest, his body falling forward onto yours as he bucked against you and muffled his moan against your breast. He made that noise from earlier and it almost made you cum, your legs slightly shaking. There was a moment of silence before he pushed himself off you, guilt and shame apparent on his face.

"God, I really ruined it, didn't I? I'm so sorry- I'll- I'll do better next time, I swear. If you don't wanna do it again, though, I totally get it, this is horrible. Shit, I'm such a loser. It's so pathetic-"

"Eddie."

"What."

"Shut up."

He pouted and hung his head down and looked at the large wet stain on his black jeans, huffing and shaking his head in disappointment. He continued to chastise himself and kicked at nonexistent dirt on the floor.

"Could have made you feel real good, y'know? And it's my first time doin' stuff. I didn't get to... fill you up.." He sighed and looked at you sadly as he whined.

You reached your hands out to him, pulling him to stand in between your open legs.

"That.. was so fucking hot." You grabbed his cheeks so he could look at you, his eyes lighting up in surprise "Like, it almost made me cum, Eddie." 

"Really..?" He gaped.

"Alriiiiiight, Tiiiiiiigerrrrrrrrs! The game will start in 8 minutes! Head down to the gymnasium!" Prinicple Higgin's voice boomed from the intercom and echoed throughout the hallways. 

Eddie gritted his teeth and quickly placed his hands on your knees and spread your legs, attaching his mouth to your clothed pussy and sloppily mouthing at it.

"Oh… oh my God." Your hands found his hair as you gasped loudly in surprise and pleasure. 

"Fuck, you taste good." He palmed himself and felt his dick slightly harden again.

"Last call! 5 minutes everyone!!"

Eddie clumsily unbluckled his belt and pressed his cum soaked boxers against your core.

"Five-" He thrust against you "fucking-" harder this time "minutes?!" Seconds later you comvulsed at the wet sensation, a high pitched moan following your fast pants.

"You.. you came?" He slowed his movements as he came to a stop.

You gave him a lazy nod in response, only having a minute to collect yourself before you had to run down the hall for cheer.

"Woah.. that was hot." He chuckled and grabbed a roll of paper towels, wiping up whatever he could and handing you your shirt before untucking his own to cover the stain on his pants.

"Come over tonight." You softly demanded as you pulled your shirt on and quickly put your hair back into a ponytail. You placed two hands on his chest and looked up at him with pleading eyes. "After Hellfire, of course." 

Eddie gave you a wide grin and nodded.

"Of course, baby." 

You bit your lip at the pet name, pulling him into a firm kiss before you peeked your head out from the closet, looking at the empty hallways. 

You both stepped out and looked at eachother.

"Ew, a freak, get away from me." You jokingly teased as you started trotting down the hall, blowing him a kiss.

"Ew, a cock hungry slut, get away from me." He flipped you off before catching your kiss and holding it to his chest, stumbling backward and grinning as you gave him one last wave and disapeared around the corner.

[satorusugurugurl]

can we please get something about satoru x reader x suguru 🤲🏻💖

i would absolutely love a third part

and fourth

and fifth 👀

Reversal!

Characters: Geto Suguru, Gojo Satoru, FAB!Reader

Warning: Language, smut, Reader is fuckin pissed, sitting on face, body worship

Word Count: 1,597

A/N: I received this request and a suggestion for the reader being mad. I merged the two! As for other parts, I’m so down. Send me suggestions! 😈💚

Part One Part Two

It wasn’t very often that you were sent off on a mission alone. Usually, you were stuck in Tokyo handling curses here while your partners were sent off overseas. So imagine your surprise when Yaga and the higher-ups sent you overseas to London.

You had been ecstatic!

You were looking forward to seeing sights you’d never seen before. The wonder and woe wore off the second you stepped off the plane. You were ushered off to a tiny rural village, where not one, not two, but seven curses had been spotted. It took you a damn week to exorcize all of them. You could have finished it sooner if the stupid locals stopped getting in your way.

When you finally made it home, you were irritated, exhausted, and needed stress relief. Stress relief that involved your two boyfriends and their skillful tongues and appendages. They had no idea what was in store for them as you unlocked the door.

Satoru was happily eating a cookie when the front door nearly came off its hinges just as he passed it. He choked, raising his hand to defend himself with Hollow Purple, only to see you throwing your shoes off with a dark expression washed over your pretty face.

“Oh, my fuck!” He gasped out, coughing as cookie crumbs choked him. “You scared the ever-loving shit out of my sweetheart!” When you said nothing, Satoru tilted his head, taking note of the dark circles under your eyes, the ashy tone of Your skin, and how you gritted your teeth as you threw your suitcase to the side. “Rough week?”

No words were said as you grabbed him by the front of the shirt. “Shut the fuck up.” You snarked like a lioness on the prowl.

Satoru gulped as he was yanked down the hall towards Suguru’s room. When you reached The slightly cracked door, you kicked it in, causing the raven-haired man to jump. His eyes darted from his book to the doorway, where he found your exhausted, angry features and Satoru’s terrified face.

What had they forgotten to do when you were gone? Laundry? No, that was done. Messy house? No, the duo was always neat. Dinner wasn't made? That couldn't be it; you had told them you wanted takeout before boarding the plane home. Not knowing what was going through your beautiful mind made you ten times scarier.

Several seconds passed as scenarios crossed his mind before Suguru cleared his throat. He placed his book down on the nightstand, striding towards you with a cocked eyebrow. His movements were slow and full of caution as he approached you like you were a wild beast.

“Princess? You okay?”

You moved at lightning speed, releasing Satoru before you shoved Suguru back onto the bed. He didn’t say a word as he watched you take off your panties before bunching your skirt up to your hips. Before he knew it, you were yanking down his sweats as you onto the bed. Satoru watched in horny shock as you straddled Suguru’s face and bent down over him to stroke his best friend's cock.

“Toru, get the fuck behind me, and fuck me.” You barked out as if he was supposed to know what to do.

“R-Right!” He stripped out of his clothes as Suguru groaned underneath you. His tongue wasted no time, darting out and licking at your damp folds as you took his cock into your mouth, sucking it gently. “I guess it was a rough week.”

You wanted to snap back at Satoru, but how could you when Suguru was licking your clit like it was candy. You gasped, leaning forward, taking his cock into your mouth with a hungry groan. Satoru was half tempted to sit back and watch his two sexy partners sixty-nine, but the image of your furious face had him moving despite his desires.

The feeling of Suguru’s hot wet tongue flattening and lapping over your clit, to feeling Satoru’s cock stretch you open had you gasping around Suguru’s cock, your eyes fluttering as they rolled back at the sensation. It was so good, your clit being stimulated while your pussy was being stuffed. It was like worlds were colliding; a cosmic event was taking place between your legs, and your pussy was crying happy tears.

The warmth of your mouth and hearing the grunts from Satoru had Suguru’s cock throbbing in your mouth. The stimulation was great, but having you take control, making them do what you wanted, it was just as good as them taking out their frustrations on you. Maybe he needed to talk to Yaga about sending you out more often. Oh god, what if they sent you and Satoru out together, or you and him? The possibilities were endless.

Possibilities that had Suguru furrowing his brows as he hungrily licked and sucked at your clit. If you needed them this bad, by god, he’d give you everything you fucking wanted. You wanted to cum on his face. He’d make that happen! Once you finished, if you wanted more, he’d give you more. Suguru grabbed the top of your thighs, slamming you down directly on his tongue, devouring you.

Suguru’s sudden action had Satoru wincing, his faltering as you tightened around his cock. Your walls pulsated and clenched around him. Fuck, how the fuck were you so wet but still so goddamn tight?! He felt like you were going to squeeze his cock off of the three of you and kept going at this pace. Suguru was eating you out while you gagged around his cock. The sight was better than any porn he’d ever seen. And he was fucking loving in it!

“Fuuuck~!!” Satoru threw his head back, hips jerking forward faster. “Oooh god fuck me, t-this is so hot.”

“Mmmph~ mmhm!” Suguru moaned in agreement from underneath you, sending vibrations dancing through your clit.

You gagged on Suguru’s cock pulling back enough to breathe. “If it feels that fucking good, shut up and keep going!” You shouted, sending a glare with no heat in Satoru’s direction. He didn’t freeze up under your harsh words; no, instead, he groaned as his cock twitched inside of you, his hips moving as you instructed him to do so.

His pace picked up as you went back to sucking on Suguru’s fat cock, deep-throating him with a moan as he flicked his tongue over your sensitive clit. Already, you were feeling your orgasm tightening in your belly. Satoru could feel it, too, from the way you clenched down on his cock, your gummy walls pulsating.

Satoru wasn’t the only one to notice. Your dark-haired boyfriend picked up on the telltale signs of you being close as well. Your clit twitched, and your moans grew louder, buzzing around his cock as you gagged on him. Knowing precisely what you needed, Suguru sealed his lips around your sensitive bud, sending your eyes shooting wide. Satoru picked up the pace of his thrusts.

The buzzing hum in your head wasn’t from being buzzed off alcohol. No, it was from being buzzed off of your partners. They worked in tandem with each other between Satoru’s thrust and Suguru’s insatiable skills with his tongue. You cried out, toes churching back, arching as they worked you to the brink of your orgasm.

“That’s right, sweetheart~ we got you~ cum~” Satoru growled against your shoulder as he kissed your skin. His words drew you closer, but Suguru sent you over the edge. He was moaning, growling around your clit as his balls clenched, his cum sliding down your throat. All the while, he moved his head back and forth as fast as he could, pulling you over the edge with him.

The orgasm that ripped through you had you rock back against Satoru and over Suguru’s still-working mouth. Satoru’s dick repetitively hits your g-spot over and over, making you squirt around him and all over Suguru’s face. While Suguru hummed in approval lapping up all of the juices he could, Satoru fucks you deeper and harder as his orgasm hits him. He fucked his load deep inside of your tight cunt, making you cry out as you pulled off of Suguru.

“O-Oooh~ oh fuck yes~!” You palm your breasts as your boyfriends gasp and pant, the three of you slowly coming down from your highs.

Once Satoru is positive he’s milked himself completely inside of you, he pulls his sensitive cock out of you, allowing you to get off Suguru, collapsing in the bed next to him. Satoru smirks, chuckling roughly as he stares down at Suguru’s fucked out expression, his perfectly beautiful face shimmering with your cum. Blue eyes dart towards you, panting just as heavily, looking a million times happier than when you first came home.

“N-Now I—“ you gasped, “I get it.”

Suguru turned his head towards your voice, “Get what, Princess?” He groaned. He was rolling into his stomach to watch you.

“Why your guys fuck the life out of me after a long mission.” Their smiles are palpable as you hum happily, pulling them both to either side of you. They oblige, Satoru resting his head over your breasts while Suguru buries his face into the crook of your neck. “That was fucking great, let go again.”

Suddenly, Satoru and Suguru were beginning to wonder if you going out on missions like them would be for the best. You were fucking unfathomable hot when you took control, but they also know how passionate you were. They could only pray their cocks would survive the night to come.

[queers-gambit]

Lost and Found

prompt: ( requested ) you're just friends, but on your first night at Saltburn, you get lost in the vast halls and accidentally walk in on lover boy after a bath. he wants you to stay.

pairing: Felix Catton x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Saltburn

word count: 3.6k+

note: this SHOULD'VE gotten slutty, but it DIDN'T because i'm back in the hospital and the LAST thing i need is a nurse walking in on me writing fucking smut - oh, my God, can you imagine? new fear unlocked!

warnings: RIP Queen Lizzie, cursing, sexual tension, emotions are hard, Lord's name in vain, depiction of mental illness (anxiety), author throws in a little personal detail cause writing is therapy.

"Honestly, who lives in a place like this? The bloody Queen, that's who. Her and all her fucking rooms! Jesus!" You grumbled, dipping down another winding hallway. "All right, this looks familiar, that's... Encouraging, right?" You frowned, glass of water in hand after venturing to the kitchen to fetch it - but now, you couldn't navigate your way back to your room. "Of course," you growled quietly, opening a door and finding a linen closet.

How silly, in a place like this! A fucking linen closet!

You huffed and shut the door, feeling incredibly awkward and terribly misplaced. You mind screamed that didn't belong here, you never should've set foot in a place like this! How fucking foolish you felt, like a silly little girl who was just excited her crush spoke to her, let alone invited you home with him for the summer holiday.

But it was Felix fucking Catton - certified enigma. He was all man with a boyish charm who smiled at you on move-in day at Oxford and sealed your fate. He was ridiculously nice, so very sweet, borderline annoying with his giving nature and kindness. He was loyal to a fault, intuitive, observant, admirably carefree, and so very happy to give his love to anyone who needed it. For a few weeks, you felt almost offended by his attention, wondering what kind of broken soul he thought you were; knowing he had an affinity for "damaged" or "broken" things.

At least, that's what his cousin, Oxford's registered and certified catty bitch, Farleigh Start, teased you about relentlessly when he noted the way Felix hung around you. Felix invited you out with friends, offered to study together, walked you to and from classes - even if his were in the literal opposite direction. You had no honest idea how the two were related, given Farleigh's constant attitude and Felix's overwhelming kindness, but that wasn't for you to understand. You just relished the attention Felix bestowed in-between your skepticism.

And here you are, your first night in his home, Saltburn, completely lost and totally turned-around! You didn't need water all that bad, did you? Granted, you had a several tablets to take that evening to maintain your health, but you could've used the fucking sink in the adjoining bathroom! You grew frustrated the more doors you opened, finding empty rooms or closets or another fucking library or studies or whatever! As if this home wasn't big enough, there were multiple levels and all you knew was that you and Felix were both located on the same floor with his parents above you and his sister and Farleigh beneath.

So, that helped.

But you still felt so fucking silly.

Seriously, who got LOST in someone else's home!? Fools, that's who!

Okay, okay, okay, you didn't need to be so hard on yourself, but you grew nervous and fearful for a reason you didn't understand. Your anxiety was planted in your stomach, festering, growing, taking over you to the point that you had tears in your eyes when you found yet ANOTHER fucking study!

"Oh, even the bloody fucking Queen doesn't have this many useless rooms, and she's a much bigger family, Jesus fucking Christ," you sneered to yourself - ready to give up and just sleep in one of the empty rooms. But you didn't want Duncan finding you in the morning, asking questions, forcing you to admit you were lost - you felt humiliated enough as it was! And that was without anyone witnessing this absolute mess you had made!

Well, not technically a mess - but you felt like a mess the more you crept around. And now, you felt fucking creepy - like some stalker, sneaking around the halls, trying to spy on this very nice family. You knew you weren't, but the feeling was still there - fucking anxiety would honestly be the death of you.

However, you came upon a familiar (enough) door that had a gentle light emitting from under it. With a sigh of relief, you suddenly remembered leaving a light on for yourself to return to; reaching for the doorknob, twisting it, and darting into the room while swiftly swinging the door close - but halting it to shut quietly as to not disturb anyone in the empty halls.

Yeah, anxiety was a bitch.

"Ohh-ho, evenin', love," a voice greeted, making you gasp, jump, and twist around. "Miss me that much? Heard the drain on the tub, didn't yah, had to come sneak a peek?"

Felix fucking Catton stood at the end of a messy bed in all his glory, running a towel through his wet curls. Nothing obscuring your sight, nothing hiding his manhood, nothing - literally nothing on his body except a shit-eating grin.

"Jesus, Fi! Fuck, I-I-I'm so - um," you gulped, trying not to ogle him, but failing (miserably) when beads of water rolled between the contours of his impossibly impressively sculpted muscles. "I just - you know, this place is so bloody big - um, I'm sorry - I just... Yeah..."

He smirked, nodding sarcastically, "Uh-huh. And you just happened to stumble into my room? Pretty good timing, too, wasn't it?"

You squeaked, "I didn't mean to! I swear - Felix, I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to, um, yeah, you know - uh..."

"Like what you see, sweetheart? Why don't you come in closer, get a better look?"

You adverted your eyes out of respect and fumbled messily for the door handle. "Oh, sweet Jesus. Bloody house is just too bloody big, I got all turned around - just needed some water and I just - fuck, I'm sorry - "

"Hey, hey," Felix chuckled, wrapping his towel loosely around his hips so his V-line was still on raunchy display, "I'm only teasin', love. I know this place can get confusin' t'newcomers. I actually meant to grab you some water, know you gotta take your tablets."

You swallowed your embarrassment, sighing, "I'll just - yeah - no - I'll, um, just go - I'm so sorry, again."

"You know where you're goin' all of a sudden?"

You faced the door, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, shaking your head gently, "Well, no, but I'll figure it out - I left a, um, I left a light on, you know, to help - I don't know - uh, guide me?"

"You've not stuttered this much since we first met," he laughed, tugging a pair of boxers on for your sanity (and to your dismay). "I'm dressed, doll, you can look at me now. C'mon, bit weird talkin' to your back."

"We're not talking, Felix, I'm going to bed."

"Then why haven't you left yet?"

You blinked at the intricately carved door, realizing your hand was still on the knob, but it hadn't turned. "I didn't want to be so rude as to just walk out, mid-sentence!"

"Hey, hey, you're all right, darlin', I'm only teasin'," he grinned, hearing his bare feet pad over the ground before his warm hand wrapped around your elbow. "C'mon, love, hang with me a bit - 's not that late, is it?"

"Oh, so, Duncan can walk in? Make his assumptions?" You whispered, slowly facing him and leaning back on the door with a pout. His big, brown, doe-eyes stared directly into yours, making you feel under his spotlight - something akin to a privilege, since Felix Catton didn't bestow his attention on everyone. "I just needed water, I didn't mean t'get, you know, lost like this. Seriously, this place looks totally different at night."

"Surprised you even got this far, huh?"

"I looked in any room with an open door," you admitted with a small wince. "I felt so creepy, but I was all turned around - and you know, you shouldn't leave other lights on in rooms not being used. Terrible waste of energy."

"Awh, my sweet, environmentally-conscious girl," he cooed, hand raising to gently pinch your jaw. There was a serene moment, the pair of you just staring at one another, becoming acutely aware that he was still practically naked. "C'mon, don't leave yet, we can play cards if you like?"

"I've medicine t'take - "

"Right, right, right," he nodded, letting his hand drift to hold your neck in a gentle grasp. "Tell you what, you stay here, I'll grab your meds, and bring them back? You keep 'em in that li'l pink bag, yeah?"

"I don't know how to feel that you know which is my med bag," you narrowed your eyes playfully.

"Just shows I pay attention, don't it?"

"Maybe shows we spend too much time together?"

He kissed his teeth, grinning at you, "There's no such thing - in fact! I reckon we could double our time together and it still wouldn't feel like enough."

"Well, how's that help me later? I still don't know where my room is - oh, don't laugh!" You groaned, Felix snickering louder. "Fi, c'mon, it's not funny - this place is huge! Like, illegally huge!"

He cooed, "Oh, doll, 'M not laughing at you, promise. Just... You're not the first person t'get lost here, yeah?"

You scoffed with severe discomfort, "I really don't want t'hear 'bout all the other girls you've brought home - "

"Hey, now," he cut you off swiftly, "don't do that." He shrugged meekly, "There's been no others, just friends. Mine, Farleigh's, Venetia's... They've all gotten lost once or twice... Or that time we had to actually draw Reggie a map, poor lad got lost around every bend."

You rolled your eyes, "Truly expect me to believe that, do you?" Then you let your eyes widen a fraction, teasing, "Oh, wow, you really believe it! You really believe you haven't brought home other girls who you're interested in or who are into you?"

He crowded you into the door, shifting the room's energy to something sultry, making you hold your breath as his hand slid into your hair. "You know you're the only one, right?"

"You know that's absolute bullshite, right? Like, what a fucking line!"

He tisked, "C'mon, doll."

"Be honest, Felix."

His head cocked, "Want the truth?"

"That'd be a nice change of pace."

He scoffed lightly, "I don't give a single fuck if any of our previous guests cared for me - only you. Hear me?" He took the last step so he was stood with his feet slotted between yours. "I didn't bring them here for any other reason than friendly entertainment. You've seen the place, as big as it is, can get a bit lonely without anyone to hang with. But I asked you here... For different reasons..." He whispered, eyes jutting down to your lips as he kept a firm hold on you.

"And what reasons are those, Fi?"

He smirked, "Obviously... To kick your arse at cards."

You were flooded with pure disappointment. Raw, unfiltered disappointment that deflated your shoulders. "Yeah, right, like that would ever happen," you covered, nudging him a single step away from you. "Wanna be a gentleman and direct me to my room now?"

"Nope," he grinned, snatching your hand and yanking you away from the door. "You're gonna sit your pretty self right here," he nudged you to the edge of his bed, turning for his desk, then turning back to you to slap a deck of cards to your hand, "you're gonna shuffle these, and mentally prepare to get your arse handed to you at your own game."

You chuckled slightly, "Thought you hated 51 Rummy?"

"Only when sober," he smirked, leaning down to peck your forehead sweetly. "Sit tight, doll, I'll be a moment, yeah?"

You sighed and watched him exit the room, reaching to set your glass of water down and observe the room. In a moment of weakness, you pet over his sheets as if tempted to snuggle into them - and you were! You were cold from the lack of robe you meant to shrug on, and wondering the halls of Saltburn took much longer than you anticipated - now wanting to dive into the warmth you knew was left, the same warmth that Felix left on everything.

You jumped when the door opened again, Felix slipping inside with your little pink bag. His brows pinched, "All right, love?"

"Hmm? Yeah - "

"Your feet are nearly blue," he shook his head, handing you your bag before turning for his wardrobe. "Socks or sweats?"

"Huh?"

He turned, holding up a pair of sweatpants and socks, repeating, "Socks or sweats? Figured you're a bit cold in that." The left side of his mouth quirked up in a smirk, eyeing you in your sleep shorts and loose teeshirt that had the collar ripped out, showing a hint of cleavage.

"Oh, uh, socks, please."

He tossed you the socks, dropped the sweats, and joined you on the bed as you pulled the oversized garment onto your feet. "C'mere, get close, get comfortable," he chuckled, pushing his blankets down to sit in the sheets, waiting until you turned in the bed to yank the blankets up over both your legs. "Didn't shuffle? My naughty girl," he joked, reaching for the deck of cards and opening it. He offered a much softer smile, eyes darting to your medicine bag, and then focusing on the cards - as if to give you privacy to take your meds.

You did so quickly, insecure about the rattling bottles and the amount of tablets in your cupped hand, but never once had Felix made you feel bad about your needs. After swallowing them, you cleared your throat and turned to face Felix as he divided the cards for the game, nodding to his side table, "Paper's over there, doll, for the score."

"Sure you want me to keep score?" You asked softly, reaching for the pad of paper and spare pen. "Last time we played, you lost so very miserably, I was embarrassed for you. We can save your pride a li'l, not keep score."

"It's only polite to let the pretty lady win."

"Oh, tryin' to butter me up, are you?"

"Is it working?"

"I'll let you know."

Felix chuckled, leaning back to the headboard. Then, he asked softly, "You feelin' all right?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, all good."

"Sure?"

"Why?"

"Hands are shakin' a bit."

You eyed him for a moment, changing the subject by asking, "How're you not freezing? Seriously, 's like the floors are air conditioned."

"Nah, just not cold."

"Your nipples say otherwise."

"Lookin' at my nipples, are you?" He grinned. "Now you're a very naughty girl, knew you didn't stumble into my room on accident!"

"Oh, don't flatter yourself!" You pushed his shoulder, but he leaned closer. "Felix - "

"You could just stay here," he offered softly.

"You got me for a game - "

"No, I mean, uh..." He chuckled to himself, shaking his head and readjusting so he was supported on one elbow, facing you. "Nah, nevermind, all right, so, back to the game - "

"No, wait, say what you're thinking," you encouraged softly. "Know I hate you doin' that."

"Yeah, you get all anxious," he nodded. "I don't want t'be too forward, all right? But... You know, we sleep together at Oxford. I-In the dorms, you know?"

"Yeah, and?"

"Just thought, maybe you'd wanna stay here? With me? If you want, won't make yah, sweetheart, just thought... You know, in a house this big, you wouldn't get so lost stayin' here... Maybe?"

"Oh, aren't you my hero?"

"I know, I know, I'm just tryna look out for you, my li'l lost love. And, you know, prevent you from finding our secret dungeon," he gasped comically.

"That's not even a joke 'cause I'd believe it in a place like this. Is it a dungeon for torture or sex?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"Maybe I'd like to see it. Hm," you considered, "maybe I should stay here, you know - so you can show me around and go get me water when I need it. Save my toes from freezing off, wonderin' 'round here."

He grinned, "Yeah?"

"If it's not too scandalous?"

"'S not like anyone would care... Except me, you know? I'd... I'd like you to stay here. Like havin' you close, sweetheart."

"Well, maybe you could put some clothes on? You're terribly fucking distracting! I'm here to win a card game, and I'll be damned if you win 'cause your abs are... You know, staring right at me, you cheater," you grinned, turning to face him fully with your legs crossed, the space in the sheets open for your cards.

"I think you like me naked," he grinned. "I mean, you stared long enough."

"I was just caught off guard!"

"Oh, I'm sure," his grin turned wicked. "You're still staring, doll."

"Well, it's not as if you're quick to cover yourself!"

"You're not too quick t'look away, either!"

"I was - "

"Caught off guard, yeah, you've said," he chuckled, staring at you with those moony brown eyes that made you feel as if you were the only girl he's ever seen. "Maybe I liked you lookin'."

"Is that so?"

He nodded slightly, "Yeah, not such a bad thing. You're kinda the only one I want lookin' at me like that, anyway."

"You absolute cheesehead!" Your laughter was quiet, trying not to tip Duncan off to your antics.

"You know, they're not just for lookin'," he perked his pierced brow at you. "Feel free to touch whenever you want, too."

"Hm, always knew you were a slut."

He gasped dramatically. "Is that anyway to talk to your host? Especially after giving you refuge from the big, scary, confusing halls?" Your eyes rolled and reached out to pushed his forehead, making him rock back into the pillows and headboard - but he was quick to snatch your wrist as he fell. You were yanked across the slim space, pulled so you were directly resting onto his chest; forearms bracing against his pectorals. He grinned, caressing the back of your head, teasing, "'Ello, love."

"You're a fucking fiend."

"And you're so fucking beautiful."

"I'm already stayin' here, Fi, you don't have to lay it on so thick."

He hummed, "You know... If you were mine, you'd get this treatment all the time. I can't stop - you're just so easy to compliment."

Feeling bold, perhaps from being so close and him being nearly naked, you whispered, "Then maybe you should stop shuffling your feet, grow a pair, and ask me already."

He paused, the moment turning soft as you relax against his body; stretched out the length of him, but still remaining propped on his chest to look down at his sweet face.

"Was a bit afraid to, actually, love."

"Why?"

"Haven't felt like this with anyone," he admitted, "'s just so fuckin' easy with you. Organic, authentic, safe... I was afraid to ruin that, destroy the rapport and friendship we've established. I care about you so much, I just wanted you in my life - no matter what variation that was. Being just my friend, being my girl, just want you with me. Didn't want to jeopardize anything."

"Hm," you considered, nodding slowly, "I get that. Think I felt something similar..."

"So, what do we do?"

"I think we be adults about this," you offered. "If you just want to be friends, we'll stay friends, Fi, but we don't blur lines like we have been. And if you want to give this - us - a try, I think we could. 'Cause you're you, and I'm me, and if things don't work out, we can just go back. Right? Adults do that sorta thing, don't they?"

"Not entirely sure, don't feel like an adult most days," he breathed, petting his fingertips down your cheek. "But I know I want this, with you. I swear, since you came into my life, I've felt - " He paused, shaking his head with a growing smile, "Free? Elated? Light as air?"

"Mhm, I know the feeling," you repeated.

"We doin' this?"

"That's up to you."

"I think it's up to us, actually - "

"I mean, you've gotta ask, Fi, not just assume."

"If you reject me in my own house, in my own bed, doll, I'm gonna be fucking crushed!"

"Oh, my God, just ask me! You fucking knobhead!" You laughed, leaning your head on his chest. His other arm moved behind his head to keep it propped up, looking at you with so much adoration, it knotted your stomach. The hand that had been in your hair drifted down to keep a secure hold on your waist; fingers scratching in soothing motions.

"Wanna be my girl?"

"Hmm, I think you could phrase it better."

He grinned brightly, "Would you be my girlfriend?"

"Oh, that's a little too formal. Maybe try - "

"Oh, c'mere, you," he growled, swiftly using both arms to seize under your arms and literally drag you up his body. "C'mon, baby," he whispered, lips ghosting yours, "be my baby."

"Fuck, no, that's way too cheesy!"

"I thought you liked me cheesy?" He gaped, your hand petting his cheek now; shoulders straining to keep you upright, over him.

"Correction, I love you cheesy," you whispered, lowering your head to press a quick kiss to his lips. He hummed in relief, but you pulled back to promise, "I'd love to be your girl, Fi. Only took you the whole bloody school year, didn't it?"

"Hey, good things to those who wait, right?"

"Don't quote Professor Mercy at me when we're in bed with barely anything on, Jesus fucking Christ," you grumbled, unable to restrain your grin when he pulled you in for another kiss - but this time, stealing the breath right out of your lungs.

Maybe getting lost in Saltburn was more beneficial than you originally thought, and maybe Professor Mercy and ages of philosophy was right because this felt like the absolute best thing, and you'd wait a hundred lifetimes if it meant having Felix in your arms - like he was now, kissing you like it was his lifeline.

How extraordinarily warm, you felt, to be lost in this world, in this extraordinary home, and found, by Felix fucking Catton.

requesting rules and masterlist

Saltburn masterlist

[samodivaa]

┊Impure Thoughts┊

《Part 2┊ Reader x Bucky Barnes?

Bucky is getting more comfortable with going out without the prosthetic. You are getting a little too comfortable with the idea of using it...as a pleasure tool.

Warnings - smut, metal dildo lmao?, mastrubation (f), fingering Words - 1700 ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ In the living room, you are settled on the couch with your book, but you pause halfway through reading a sentence when it finally sinks in. You have unconsciously placed yourself directly across the room from the armchair, and something seems to be filling your entire field of vision—Bucky’s metal arm—pitifully, the first coherent thought that emerges, is undoubtedly something that you have been thinking about these past weeks—you grind your teeth and chew your tongue. That is followed closely by the realization that this is probably an instinctual reaction born out of being alone for too long. Right? The thought has you swallowing hard while you feet the beginnings of arousal, you shift uncomfortably, crossing your ankles—the beginning of the end. Here it is again: that feeling of complete addiction, of an irrational kink, need. A craving, a thirst, blood rushing to your ears to chant in your mind once again: God, I want to try it.

Your eyes flicker between the book and the prosthetic. A ripple of gooseflesh erupts down your whole body and you squeeze your eyes shut in mortification, you even change positions and straighten your back, leading to several cracks up your spine. Why did he need to leave his prosthetic arm on the armchair?

You feel your jaw slacken. The inevitable desire floods your brain too quickly, irritation prickling at your chest. “He is not coming home tonight…” you note mentally with a magnanimous twinkle of your eyes. Two identical streaks of pink appear on your cheek and you avert your gaze, shaking your head. You have imagined what it might be like to use it as a pleasure tool countless times, but you have never considered that you would actually be bold enough to do it. But even as that transient thought flits through your brain, the image of your legs spread while fucking yourself on it…the fantasy swirls hazy— This is so wrong, but you are so exhilarated by it—but it’s akin to torture. You rub your eyes and try to focus on the letters and shapes, but it is difficult.

"Right," you mumble to yourself, trailing your fingertip under the sentence to steady your gaze "The man who has a conscience suffers whilst acknowledging his sin. That is his punishment…”

Fuck…

You have already read that sentence twice.

You attempt a denial, tongue stuck to your teeth “Some things are beyond help” you confess, smothering a yawn into your sleeve. You sigh impatiently, but get up from the couch nonetheless. As you head to the bedroom, you stupidly lean your body in the door frame, attempting to dispel the notion that you are so turned on just thinking about it. You let out a stealthy, thin smile, but you instinctually clasp a hand over your mouth. You stare intently into the prosthetic. Head clouding. Heart taking off again. It is not that you don’t want to do it now—it is more like you don’t want your little bubble to pop just yet, the bubble of your innocence. You have finally just given up on the feeble attempt to get your body and mind to settle down to sleep. Your phone, which you have ignored for some time by then, buzzes with a new text. The phone on the coffee table buzzes yet again, but you don’t even acknowledge it.

You make your breaths as quiet as possible, managing to walk over to the armchair without making the faintest noise. A growling soft leaves your throat, followed by an annoyed moan—mentally swooning at the idea you will actually do it this time. Instantly, you feel your blood run cold, and your face immediately falls. Embarrassment, that is all, just sheer and utter embarrassment as you find yourself caught in the act.

Quickly, you let out a nervous laugh, amused by your own antics.

“It's okay, no one will ever find out” you are quick to try to convince yourself, to urge yourself to take the opportunity. You lost in the end. You get on your knees in front of the armchair, leaning down to get in eye level with it before your hand reaches out and finds the metal fingers, using the pad of your thumb to brush against vibranium there. You lace the cold fingers with yours, they move so easily. …you didn’t know that. You are far too entranced by the arm, that you have forgotten about the appendage pressed in between your thighs, until you shift a bit. Instantly, you feel that spot between your legs head up even more and that reminds you of the throbbing sensation you have been ignoring. You apply pressure with your free hand, prying a sharp exhale from your own lips, finding relief on the soft carpeted floor, and spreading your legs—but still the wetness between your legs is growing, and it is unbearable. You whimper as your fingers press into the clit. You start to rub circles into it as you soak the fabric. But you need more, it’s not enough. That's why you reach down and grab the fabric of your panties in between shaky fingers and gently pull it to the side, rapturously rubbing without the fabric in the way. No, this is not enough. Hands are shaking with desperation.

One by one, you place your fingers in your mouth and lick them before running them up and down your slit, finding yourself instinctually moving quicker. You slid one finger inside, shivering a little at the feeling. It is quickly followed by a second, then a third. You jolt in pleasure when your fingers nudge up against the spot. With newfound vigour, you finger yourself even harder. Your body fizzes with a heady sensuality, where you are constantly in the process of getting aroused, bringing yourself closer to an euphoric climax, but you don’t really want to orgasm like that.

You have such an unambiguously bad feeling—awful, really—but you couldn't look away, couldn't stop. But the nearness, the possibility of this fantasy becoming reality, it has dwelled in you for too long. Every embarrassment is forgotten. It has seized hold of your heart: desire is terrible. Your insides clench longingly at need to be filled, practically singing at the thought of something being buried within you. Your hand moves alternately in a frantic blur, then achingly slow, edging closer and closer, fingers are buried deep inside you while the thumb rubs your clit and lips, with you being so wet that you can hear your fingers' movement, but—No, no, no, this is not enough—the fingers are still inside you, moving in a now broken rhythm before stopping completely. You are so tight around your own fingers, how will you feel around the metal ones? You have fantasised about this more than once.

You have touched yourself to that fantasy more than once. “Jesus…I might actually do it” It is unusual to be so nervous, but the words that come out of your sweet lips cut off any rational thoughts you have. Then the inevitable—your pussy throbs at the idea. A reflex, a response, a curse. 

It is actually rather exciting that no-one will see you. You take a deep shuddering breath, eyes are stormy with a ravenous hunger. There are resolved cracks as your desires win this time. You latch onto the index metal finger hungrily and suck it like it's the sweetest treat, staying still for just a second before moving up and down, tongue swirling around the cold digit. Then, wrapping your tongue around a second finger and tasting the slightly metal tangy taste of the vibranium. You bend the fingers of your other hand in that come-hither motion again and again until your cunt is squirting out onto the hand in a stream of clear wetness.

Shit.

Suddenly, you get up and snatch the prosthetic from the armchair, heading to the bedroom.

Your lip quivers as you drink the sight of the arm onto the mattress, all the while loosening your panties and Bucky’s t-shirt you love to wear, but not now—whining through the back of your throat and then heaved breaths through your nose—What, what are you doing? Your mind whirres; you can hear your own heartbeat, your palms are clammy. You take the lube before laying on the bed, squeezing some onto your fingers and applying some to and inside of yourself before you start fingering yourself, spreading yourself open and sliding your fingers inside once again. Breathy little noises, helplessly turned on, you suck your bottom lip into your mouth, teeth sinking into it as you turn your gaze to the metal prosthetic. “Okay…” you murmur quietly, shifting a little so you can grab the arm with both hands and finally align it with your entrance. You are beyond ready.

“H-holy shit…” you pant as the cold surface of the fingers lightly touches the sensitive skin of your stretched hole, and you moan shamelessly, squeezing your eyes shut and arching into the feeling as your skin erupts in goosebumps, unwilling to acknowledge the frissons of pleasure washing over you with each flick of the metal. Anger boils in your stomach as well as a fair bit of shame, because you are not sure if it will fit—it's way too big. You want to come on the metal, want to feel the coldness, but your face contorts in both pain as much as pleasure as you try to push it inside more. You make a strange whining sound, desperate to come, desperate to fit it beyond the knuckles—you gasp out when you begin to move it, thrusting in and out in a slow, grinding motion. You finally look down when you finally fit in more of it—your mouth hangs open and your limbs feel like they are frozen. You have made a terrible decision, you know you have when you see blue eyes illuminated with curiosity, horror…? 

“H-hey” you speak airly, shivering and groaning faintly as his coveting blue eyes meet yours.

Oh yes, you didn't check your phone.

⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ might write a part two, i personally need more metal arm stuff fr :0

《Part 2

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 14

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: The week is almost done.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“You alright, doll?” Bucky has his arm hooked through yours as you make another round of the black and white room.  

The evening has seen you through parts of the casino you couldn’t even imagine. Private rooms along a hall on the upper floor, past the double wide entries to the grand halls meant for shows and concerts, several sprawling rooms set with tables and machines for the task of gambling, drinking, and general fervour. All splendid and sparkling, but each entirely overwhelming. 

“Yes,” you look at your glass, the same you’ve been nursing for a while. Maybe only the second after that confrontation. The night’s swept by you like shadow. “Erm,” you don’t want for him to think you’re disappointed. You’re not, you just don’t belong. “My feet... the shoes... I’m not used to them.” 

He looks down, his eyes scaling your body slowly as he brings you to face him. He stops at the heels and tilts his head. 

“Mm, I don’t know how you girls do it,” he chuckles and his eyes flick back up, burning into yours, “you done with that, doll?” 

He taps the glass and you nod. You don’t think you’ll finish; it’s all water from the melted ice. He takes it swiftly and searches around, gesturing until one of the bottle girls in their sleek leather pants appears to claim it. You wait sheepishly, embarrassed to have her cleaning up after you. 

“Well,” Bucky faces you with a devilish smirk, “let’s get you off your feet then.” 

Before you can react, he scoops you up. You let out a whoop of surprise and cling to him as the world disappears from under your feet. He holds you firmly against his chest, your legs bent over one of his arms as you hook your arm over his shoulder and place your other hand against his chest. 

“Bucky,” you squeal. 

“I got you, doll,” he struts forward without pause, “you trust me, don’t ya?” 

You look up at him and gulp. What can you say? 

“Yes,” you murmur and hide your face, aware of those around you and their attention. How could they not gawk at this man, especially as he carries you away. 

“Good, doll,” he purrs and strides on, set on his path, unwavering as he leaves the ringing and buzzing of the casino. 

He doesn’t stop until he reaches the elevator, even then, the doors seem to open at his very presence. As he bids you to push the button, the doors slide apart, and he steps on. You fold your arms in and lean into him as it starts to rise. You’re even more uneasy with its building height as he has you off the ground. 

“Doll?” He intones as you shiver. You stare at the transparent walls with wide eyes. He hums and puts a kiss on the top of your head. “Told you, I got you.” 

You close your eyes. The ascent makes you dizzy. Instinctively you wrap your hand around the lapel of his jacket. You feel him take a deep breath. Finally, the doors ding and release you into the hotel hallway. 

He once more advances and your chest begins to knot. Oh. Oh. He’s taking you back to the room. You pop your head up and open your eyes. What... what does he expect? Can you give it to him? 

He stops in front of the same door you’d hidden behind earlier. He asks you to unlock it and you untangle the thin strap of your purse to find the card. He moves with you so you can reach and you slide the plastic in the slot. You’re shaking uncontrollably but you’re not brave enough to ask any of the questions rushing through your head. 

He enters and you lock up. Your whole body goes rigid. He kicks the door shut as he swiftly passes through and he’s unstopping as he breezes by the sofa and the plush armchairs. He enters the bedroom of the suite and your vision turns to a tunnel. 

“Doll,” he goes to the bed and lays you down. You’re jittering as if you’re on ice, “what’sa matter?” 

He lifts your legs and sits beneath them, his feet on the floor as he perches sideways on the edge. You watch him, paralysed with uncertainty. He wiggles the shoes from your feet and your gaze holds onto his hands. He covers your foot with one and his warmth seeps into your skin. The curl of his fingertips into your sole make you moan unwittingly. 

You cover your mouth and giggle as he tickles your arch. 

“You said your feet hurt,” he pushes his thumb against the ball of your foot. 

“I... did,” you utter breathlessly as you rest against the fluffy pillows, “but you...” 

“I’ll take any damn excuse to touch you, doll,” he grins as he works his knuckle into your foot and forces another mewl from you. No one’s ever rubbed your feet before. You never would ask for it. Any sort of touch is scary, even only in your mind. “And to get ya alone.” 

His dark hair falls forward as he focuses on your foot, rubbing, kneading, squeezing, working it expertly. You dig your elbows into the mattress to keep from melting entirely. You can feel the tension retreating. It’s a release you never realised you needed. 

“You keep making all that noise,” he lets one hand crawl up your leg, “and I might not be able to control myself.” 

You squeak and he snickers, glancing over from behind his brown locks. He grins as he looks your over. He bites his lower lips and his chest rises and falls. 

“You are absolutely gorgeous, you know that?” He switches feet and you babble. “You have a good night?” 

You teethe your lip as you weigh your answer. You can’t help the way your cheeks tug and your brow wrinkles as you think of the evening behind you. The faces, the noises, that man, the way Bucky turned fiery and angry. 

“You didn’t?” He prompts thinly. 

“No, it was... nice. A lot. I... so much going on, I’m not used to it.” You try to sit up and he gently tugs so you fall back onto the pillow. “I...” you lift your head to look at him, “that... when you... I don’t like anger.” 

He’s quiet and puts his head straight. He dips his chin, massaging your arch silently. He huffs. 

“I know, doll, but I can’t help myself. The way that man knocked into you. I thought... I thought he hit you at first and it doesn’t matter if it was an accident, he shouldn’t be bumping into pretty ladies like that. He shouldn’t be drinking to the point of idiocy,” he snarls, his grip growing heavier around your foot, “if he’d hurt you, I’d have ripped his goddamn throat out. I won’t apologise for protecting you, doll.” 

“I-- know, Bucky, I know. I appreciate you sticking up for me,” you make yourself sit up and he hangs onto your foot. You wiggle it until he lets go and you push yourself closer as you drop a leg over the edge, “Bucky, no one’s ever defended me like that.” 

He looks at you and tilts his head, “how’s that? Girl like you, you’re a real prize. You deserve to be protected. To be... Spoiled,” he smirks and reaches to touch your hand, “to be admired,” he lifts your hand and admires it, playing with your fingers before he places a kiss on your knuckles, “adored...” he continues to brush his lips against your skin, sending goosebumps up your back, “pampered... tasted...” 

His eyes flit up to meet yours and, in an instant, he has you. His hand snakes around the back of your neck as he forces you onto your back, pushing you down as he brings himself over you. He crushes his lips against yours as you wriggle, your hands trapped against his chest. 

He suffocates you. His beard scratches around your lips as he growls into you, his tongue delving into your mouth without permission. You’re powerless against him. His need is enthralling and overwhelming. His desire is corded into his body and into his grip. His hand moves to cradle the back of your head as he drags his lips down your cheek. 

You puff out, heart racing, as he continues his path along your jaw. You giggle at the ticklishness in your neck as his lips graze your skin. It’s more than just the sensation of his touch, it’s fear, bubbling in your stomach like acid. There’s a truth blaring in your mind; you can’t stop him. 

He nips at your throat and snarls. His fingers trail along your neck and shoulder and hook under the strap of your chest. Your panic surges beneath the delight of his tending. You wiggle your arm free of his weight and put your hand over his as he inches the strap down. His mouth continues its quick advance down to your cleavage. 

You arch your back, not as much in want as in terror. Your writhe and squeeze his hand tighter. You feel his strength and your lack of. You whimper and shove of on his head desperately. 

“Slow... slow down,” you gasp, “please...” 

He doesn’t listen or he doesn’t hear you. He nuzzles just above the swell in your chest, his breath puffing into your cleavage. You latch onto a hank of his hair and yank. You cry out as you bounce helplessly beneath him. 

“Bucky! Stop! Stop!” You beg, “please--” 

He winces and you let go of his hair as he retracts his hand, planting it on the mattress as he pushes himself up. He holds himself over you, his blue eyes blazing hotly down at you. Your lashes flutter and you pout. 

“I’m sorry,” you wilt beneath him, “I was just... scared. It’s... too fast.” 

He stares at you. He doesn’t say a word. That’s it. You’ve blown it. It’s over. You should be thankful that it’s happening so early. You’d hate to waste any more of his time or efforts. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologise once more, “I understand if--” you look away as your eyes tinge, “I’m not that girl, Bucky. I’m not what you want. I can’t...” 

“Don’t tell me what I want,” he snips as he grabs your chin and forces your head straight. He lowers himself until his forehead meets yours. You whine as you flatten yourself to the bed, “I want you...” he growls, “I can wait...” he lifts his head slightly and brushes his nose against yours, “can I kiss you? Just kissing,” he fixes the strap of your chest, “promise I’ll be a good boy, doll.” 

Your lip trembles. You can’t say no. Something inside you tells you that if you did, it wouldn’t be good. Yet why should you think that? He stopped when you told him to slow down. He’s compromising in that very moment. It’s your own stupid self-doubt getting in the way. 

“Okay,” you gently touch his cheek, feeling the texture of his thick beard. He winces but not in a fearful way. He hums and leans into your palm. 

“You like my beard?” He smirks as you feel his weight ease into you.  

“Um, yeah, I guess,” you murmur. 

“You guess?” He challenges. 

“Well, I never... never thought of it,” you give an antsy smile, afraid of saying the wrong thing. You pet the short hair as his gaze sears back at you, “it’s soft.” 

“Soft?” He muses and leans in. You ready yourself but he doesn’t kiss you. Instead, he brushes his beard along your cheek and sends a ripple through you. “Like that?” He purrs and nuzzles along your neck, his beard grazing the crook of it. You giggle, “that tickle?” 

“Yes,” you squeal as the sensation intensifies, “ooh, it tickles!” 

He chuckles and keeps on, his hand creeping up your side to tickle you through the dress. You spasm and nearly choke. You can’t handle it. You push on his shoulders and quake with laughter. He buries his face deeper and his fingers move more methodically. 

“Bucky!” You cry out. 

He hums and snickers again, “mm, I love it when you say my name.” 

“Eeek,” you squirm as he keeps on, trapped under him but so frightened as before.  

You reach around him, trying to find him under the thick jacket. You push your hands underneath and feel along the pressed shirt. You flutter up his sides and feel his muscle clench. You get under his arms and he snorts and crushes your hands under his biceps to stop you. He rips his head up and gives a strained look. 

“Now you really want to torture me,” he accuses with a snarl in his lip, “it’s on, doll.”