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#okay I did just look up the name for tagging reasons
allforhee · 2 days
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*ੈ✩ — 𝐌𝐘 𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟏 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐒𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐌. (BLURB) | SIM JAEYUN
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୨୧ pairing — idol!jake x fem!reader
୨୧ synopsis — being jake's gf, you normally tag along everywhere. every concert, every fansign, every soundcheck. but with a heavy heart, jake has to attend another fansign without you. little does he know, you're in line with the other engenes ready to give him a little surprise.
୨୧ genre — fluff, cute coupley stuff, pouty jake
୨୧ warnings — trying not to show pda, suggestiveness, written on my phone so not proofread
୨୧ word count — 1,059 words (not proofread)
୨୧ author's note — hiya lovies! so sorry for the hiatus as i was going through a pretty bad of a burnout, and had little to no inspiration to write. but finally i had time to strike up a bit of inspiration to write this fic!! hope u all enjoy a bit of jake fluff :)
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“right this way, ma'am.”
as you were escorted into the venue, your heart was beating out of your chest. unlike every other concert or fansign you’d attend, you’d normally be wearing a staff name-tag with access to backstage. but here you were, hand clasping an engenebong, a vip lanyard on, clad in jake’s favorite colors.
in your other hand was a small sign that read “sim jaeyun, send a flying kiss!”
sitting alongside with the other engenes, your plan ready to be set in action.
a few days prior, jake had initially invited you to the fansign, but you declined with an excuse that you had uni homework due.
“darling, i have a fansign in a couple days, you’ll be there right?” jake asks, as he sits on your couch, snacking on popcorn as you cook dinner.
“this saturday right?” you ask, thinking of what plans you have then. but then you remember. “i don’t think i’ll make it yunie, my professor wants to have a quiz for extra marks. i’m sorry my love.” you confess, turning off the stove before coming over to him and giving him a pat on the head as he pouts.
“really? can’t you just miss a couple marks?” jake begs, still pouting.
“i’m so sorry ikeu, i’ll have to miss out on this one. i’ll make it up to you next time, okay?” you try to reason with him.
jake gives a slight nod as he opens his arms to invite you into a hug, which you accept.
that was a few days ago. you found out your professor had moved the quiz a day earlier, which meant you had the whole day for the fansign. as you were thinking of a way to tell jake, an idea popped into your head.
you picked up your phone and dialed jungwon’s number, as you explained to him your idea.
he managed to snag you a last minute vip fansign ticket, where you are now.
with you and jake’s relationship not out in the open yet, you weren’t expecting anyone to notice you, other than the members. you were more scared on how jake would react to your surprise, rather than the fans.
as your hands pick on your cuticles (by habit), the members came onto stage. with jungwon leading the way and immediately spotting you, followed by a couple others like jay, heeseung, and sunoo. jake on the other hand, seemed out of the moment, but he was trying his best to hide his sad facade.
sunghoon and ni-ki were trying to cheer him up, before sunghoon took a glance in the crowd and saw you in the second row, holding your sign. he gave a knowing smile, as he signaled to ni-ki to look at where he was looking. he immediately spotted you as well.
as the members gave their opening greetings and interacted with the fans for a while, they sat down as the fansign begun.
the fans started making their way, and as you were in the second row, you had to wait a while to talk to the members.
you had one minute with each member, and jake being the last member, you had enough time to calm your nerves.
as your queue number was called out, you sprayed the last bit of perfume, before walking over to the first member, jungwon.
he gave you a high five and a wink, signifying that your plan went really well, “noona! you made it! did my ticket work?” he asked.
“well i’m here so yes it worked! i’m so excited but anxious to see jake though.” you sighed.
jungwon gave a smile as he was signing your album, before the staff had to escort you to the next member.
heeseung gives you a smile as he laughs at what you’ve done.
“you know, jake has been whining on and on about you not coming to today’s signing.” he laughs.
you giggle at his statement, “has he? well i’m as excited to surprise him today.”
heeseung smiles at you before signing a little smiley face at your album, and the staff calls you to move to the next seat.
as you move through the next members, jay, sunoo, ni-ki, with similar responses, as you were finally arriving at sunghoon, you were scared jake was gonna notice you.
sunghoon saw you and immediately gave a smile, knowing your plan. although jake was sitting next to him, he was too enthralled with keeping his mood up to notice you.
as sunghoon was signing your album, you whispered, “hoon, what should i say to him?”
sunghoon smiled and said, “just be yourself, you’re his girlfriend after all.” as your time ran out and you stood up.
the second you sat on that seat, you opened your mouth and asked “so, do you like holding all those girls’ hands?” as you lift up your right hand.
jake lifted his head up from signing your album, eyes slowly widening as he realizes who’s sitting in front of him.
“darling? is that you?” he asked, his voice nervous.
“yes yunie,” you assure him as you take of your mask, “it’s me.”
he takes your hand in his, as he puts it on his cheek, feeling your touch.
you laugh at the cute interaction, smiling the whole time.
“but you said you wouldn’t make it?” jake asks, his pout disappearing and a light blush taking its place.
“i have my ways.” you hint at him.
as you two were holding hands as jake was signing a heart on your album, the staff signaled that time was up, and that you had to return to your seat.
jake held your hand one last time, before he tugged you and whispered in your ear, “meet me after this, okay?” he winks, before letting you go.
you smile to yourself on the way back to your seat, as a couple fangirls call out to you, as you hear some things like;
“girl did he hold your hand the entire session?”
“no way what did he whisper to you?”
“how are you not fainting right now? are you okay?”
you walk past them ask you put your mask on, and sit down lifting up your sign.
jake immediately spots you and your sign, before throwing a flying kiss. you really were his number one supporter.
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taglist; -
back to my masterlist?
© 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐇𝐄𝐄, est. 2024 | do not plagiarize, modify, translate, or repost my works on any platforms.
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iruiji · 2 days
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SAGAU but Creator Reader has been tagging along with the Gourmet Supremos.
If you didn't know or have forgotten, Gourmet Supremos are one of those quest series that is randomized because some part of the questline can only be accessed with dailies (like Whispers in the Wind or Snezhnaya Does Not Believe in Tears or Garcia's Paean).
This questline spans from Inazuma up to Sumeru. I think there was 6-7 quests in total? I forgot. (it's 8).
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(These are Julie, Parvaneh and Xudong in order.) There are more characters that made a cameo in here but we'll just limit it with these three.
Context dropped, onto the short HCs.
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• Okay so, I didn't really read the whole story of this one so I'm just going to make some random HCs on the fly. I'm aiming for a goody-feel with this one so no heavy angst will be involved.
• Alright, so. Xudong is the leader of the Gourmet Supremos, and he only found you because when you land in Inazuma, you literally dropped into their camp and was about to steal a sausage from Julie's backpack (but there were so many ingredients there!!!)
• Xudong was fuming, lmao.
"THIEF!! SOMEONE, HELP!"
• Aight, geez, made you run a marathon there.
• The next time you've met, all three were together and they saw you roasting some lavender melon in some dilapidated tent you found while walking aimlessly. Hey, better than no shelter at all. For some unfathomable reason, your inventory only consists of food materials - with everything, and I mean everything, missing.
• God damn. It's like the heaven is telling you something. 🙄
• Anyways, yeah. So for some reason, the only access to the goddamn ingredients are locked, and you can't use it and you don't know when you would be able to use it, so you have to scrounge up whatever pitiful sources you can get.
• Sadly, it's mostly lavender melons.
• Like, you already made several dishes from this and it's really starting to grind on your gears, so you took a dive in one of the caverns and found some meat and was happily grilling it with the melons when the trio came out of nowhere.
"Thief!"
The hell. "I didn't get the sausage, though."
"But you still tried to!"
"I mean, I was dying of hunger, so.. you know."
Julie, bless her heart, gets in between you two. "It's fine, Xudong. They needed help, did they not?"
"But-"
This time, Parvaneh chimes in. "As they've told you, they didn't get anything, so let it go. And you." She points at you with calloused finger. "Who are you?"
That caught you off guard a little. Told them your name and, to Xudong's bewilderment, started chatting amicably with you. Some time later though, he softened a bit but still a little cautious. They traded cooking tips with you, and, to their utmost surprise, you exchanged many tips on cooking as well.
"How do you know all this?" Xudong asked as you finished explaining the difference between sauteing onion and garlic first.
"Oh. I'm uh, a professional chef back in our place. Been years though, so yeah." You replied as you took a bite of their chicken. "Holy shit, why is this so good?"
Julie and Parvaneh just smiled proudly.
• So like, you became a new addition to their team - but you actually specialize in desserts. Xudong has many a great views in cooking, as well as the two ladies, and together you journeyed the whole of Inazuma for rare ingredients and made some two or three journals that have been since published and loved by people. (The fangirling/fanboying is real when you saw Xiangling's message drooling about your own version of Tiramisu).
• One day, however, you lot came across a shrine - it doesn't look abandoned, oddly, but it looks really, really old. You asked them what's the deal with this one, and they explained about the Creator.
Oh.
You're in SAGAU?
Shit.
"People said they've come back, but we don't really know.."
Double shit.
• With that knowledge, you try and avoid the main cities as much as possible and only let the three buy on populated areas. Thank God they didn't really notice you suddenly covering half your face with a mask - which you only shrugged when asked.
"I like masks."
Fair enough, they suppose.
• ..oh fuck, is that Yae Miko?
"Ara, and who is this?"
Xudong, Julie and Parvaneh bows and you hastily followed.
"She is our new companion, Lady Miko."
She looks at you with an impish grin. "Oh?"
... "Yo."
Nice.
• Coming across the main characters from the game are very, VERY rare. You can actually count on one hand the characters you've met:
Yae Miko;
Thoma (he was going around asking for favors as usual and you bump into each other and only had quick apologies as interaction);
Kujou Sara (she was patrolling the area and asked about your mask - which you replied that it's part of your outfit. damn, her glare was fucking menacing!);
Kuki Shinobu (you were side to side buying groceries once), and lastly;
Kamisato Ayato (you actually didn't meet - you just saw him giving speech in a podium for some event you just came across).
• You figured, hey, maybe you're NOT the creator or whatever. And just tried to live normally after some time. The mask stayed though, because you just survived the pandemic back here and was cautious.
• About a year and six months with the team, Xudong suggested you come all to Sumeru to expand your knowledge. Holy shit, yes please!
• ..and then you met the Traveler on your way.
"Your Grace..?"
Triple shit.
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😭 sorry for disappearing for about a year - i was too lazy finishing anything. And now, I added another idea not to finish on the list 💀 wrote this whole thing in like 30 minutes motivation really is a wonderful thing, huh?
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minkyungseokie · 21 hours
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第二章 | Moving and Meeting the Boss
warnings; age gap love(R: 23, S:39, T: 50), gxg, throuple, controversial age gaps, random German and Scottish pet names, topics of eating that aren't ED related, but might be triggering to some, DeepL translated languages. Untranslated Chinese, French, and other languages
note; okay! second chapter is now ready. I might start another series based on driver x reader x wag. I sort of rushed through this. I also changed a couple of things
She now contracted meningitis during her F2 days and that was the reason for her leaving, but she told people it was the lack of funds
There has something to do with eating, but it's not an ED
The eating thing is based off of a very adorable mukbang YouTuber named Tzuyang. I also never been to Monaco, so Idk how everything works
Realized she should have a last name since she's Felix's sister
note2; please give me requests for moodboards, blurbs, smaus, or anything else you want for this series. Or just request anything as long as you read my rules and how to request thing
fc; imleslie(Y/n), xavier serrano(Aaron Antognelli), blanca soler(Chiara Lorenzi)
Come Talk to Me | Driven by Destiny Masterlist
Autosports Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Toto Masterlist
I do not give anyone permission to change, copy, or put my work on any other platform. It will only be on top, so if you see it, please report it. Or let me know.
DO NOT ask me to update this story. I'll update when I can.
Anyway, only accepting 10 more people to be tagged
Buckle up! This is a long one!!!!!!!!
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(My god, Susie is so fucking pretty that I might actually cry)
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In the now packed-up house, Y/n gazed around. "Are you all packed up?" Her brother asked as he crossed his arms next to her. Chan sighed, "I'm going to miss coming over to your house and hanging out," he said, looking around the house. With a soft smile that showed off her sharp teeth, Y/n looked at her brother, "He'll miss popping by my house during random times when the homeless orphans don't have work to do and mooching off me until he needs to go home to Korea." Y/n teased, pinching his freckled cheeks.
Chan giggled at Felix's expression and looked away, clearing his throat when Felix's glare turned to him. The long-haired male slapped his sister's hand away gently and tried to keep his scowl before giving up and breaking out into smiles as laughs filled the room. "For real though, I am going to miss you." Felix said, opening his arms for Y/n to enter, "Aw, I'm going to miss you too, but you can come visit me anytime you want in Monaco." Y/n offered, pulling back.
"You too, Channie. You and the rest of the derelict unparented are free to come visit me in Monaco when you want." Y/n said, opening her arms up to the shorter male. "Why does this feel like I'm sending my little sister off?" Chan asked, gladly accepting the hug that was offered, "You are basically family, mate." Felix assured, wrapping his arms around both his sister and his best friend. The group continued to hug until there was a loud honk heard in front of the house, "Well, I guess we should get this stuff into the truck." Y/n said, letting go of the two singers to grab one of the nearest boxes.
Y/n lugged the box to the truck where a mover stood, ready to grab the box from her hands and put it in the truck, "I'll take that, sir." The worker offered. Y/n froze and stared at the mover, "Excuse me?" Y/n asked, "Oh? Did I say something wrong?" The worker questioned, looking at Y/n with a raised eyebrow, "I am not a man. Please don't assume because I have masculine features." Y/n said, steeling her nerves. Y/n wasn't a confrontational person, but over the years, resentment had built up enough for her to tell someone off when they called her a man.
Her boobs were prominent enough for people to know that she wasn't a man and she was wearing a sports bra with flannel, how the hell did the man assume she was one as well? "I'm sorry, I didn't know--" "I think you did know, but it's whatever. Don't do it again." Y/n huffed, turning around and walking away.
Y/n entered the home again and grabbed a box aggressively, huffing dramatically. Felix and Chan shared looks before putting the boxes they had in their possession down, "Hey, what's wrong?" Chan questioned.
Y/n shook her head, taking deep breaths to calm herself down. She sometimes felt like it was irrational of her to get so upset by someone assuming she was a man, but at the same time, anyone would get upset by being called the wrong gender.
Y/n squared her shoulders and picked up another box before turning to look at the two with a smile, "It's nothing, mate. Just a bit of an annoyance." Y/n then turned and walked out with the box in her hands.
The trio made their way back and forth until all the boxes were in the truck. Now, they stood on the lawn watching as the movers grabbed the furniture and loaded it onto the truck, "Y'know, we're actually going to miss you." Chan spoke up, continuing to watch the movers work. "I know. That's why I said you're free to visit me in Monaco. I'll also try to visit you and in Seoul whenever I can." Y/n assured, throwing her arms around each of the boy's shoulders and giving them an awkward side hug.
"We know. We'll try to visit when we can too." Felix said, laying his head on her arm with Changbin following suit, "We're done, ma'am. We'll be taking this to the sea freight now unless there is something else you need." The mover looked at the tall half-Asian with a pointed look, asking if there was anything she needed or if were they good.
"You're good to go. Thank you." Y/n said, nodding at the mover. The trio watched as the movers packed up and drove away, "What time do you leave?" Felix asked after a few moments of silence, "Three o'clock in the morning. Seeing as my insomnia is so bad that I can't fall asleep, I'll probably be up and out by two. Do you mind dropping my keys off at the realtor office safe drop box? I won't be able to do it since I leave at three." Y/n said.
"Yeah, we can do that. We'll be dropping you off anyway." Chan nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets.
⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙
"Yah, wake up. It's two." Felix hissed as if there were others in the house.
Y/n groaned and swatted Felix's hands away before turning onto her side and snuggling into the blankets, "Y/n, it's time to wake up." Chan said, joining Felix at the side of the hotel bed Y/n was sleeping in. The two put their hands on her and looked at each other, nodding before violently shaking Y/n back and forth.
"搞什么鬼?!" Y/n yelled in Chinese after being woken up so violently, turning to stare at her brothers with wide eyes, "Sorry, you wouldn't wake up, so we decided to shake you until you woke up." Chan snickered, signing as he spoke, looking away as Y/n glared at him and Felix. 
Y/n sighed and threw the blankets off of her body, "Jesus, dude. You could've kept trying to wake me up gently." The dark-haired woman scowled, reaching over to grab the external part of her cochlear implant and the hearing aid for her other ear. Felix grabbed the hearing aid and helped her put it into her ear, "When are you getting your other cochlear?" Felix questioned, making sure the volume was on the level Y/n always kept it on.
"I get the second implant after I start my new job. I'll have to tell the boss about it as soon I do the interview. Especially since I forgot to tell her about my lack of hearing." Y/n mumbled, looking at Chan and Felix from the side since she knew that they would be giving her judgy looks.
Y/n turned to see that they were indeed giving her disappointed looks as if she wasn't taller than Chan, older than Felix, and more intimidating than the both of them combined. "Stop looking at me like that! I was trying to get the application in as fast as I could. I simply just...forgot to put it on my application." Y/n explained, looking down and scratching her cheek. When she looked back up, they were still looking at her with disappointment, "Stop looking at me like you're my parents and I just got caught smoking a fat one....or something cause I wouldn't know how they would look at me." Y/n quickly added the second part and gave the two boys a awkward smile.
Felix and Chan sighed in unison, "Okay, well, I guess we can't really be that upset with you since you'll be telling her face-to-face. Get up and get ready. Felix picked out some clothes for you to wear." Chan said, pointing to the end of the bed where some clothes were laid out for her, Y/n sighed, running a hand through her thick hair, "Okay, whatever. Please move out of the way." 
Chan stepped back as Y/n swung her long legs over the side of the bed and planted her feet onto the floor, grabbing the clothes and studying them before going to the bathroom to get changed while Felix and Chan checked to make sure that everything was properly packed. Y/n exited the bathroom wearing a pair of high waisted brown trousers, a white collared button down with a brown, beige and white sweater vest one top.
Y/n sat down on the bed and picked up the socks that were sitting on the bed, putting them on while Felix and Chan continued to talk, "Y/n, do you want to get some McDonald's on the way or something?" Felix asked.
"I just want a coffee and a bagel honestly. We can get something from the bagel shop nearby. I heard they have some good bagels and coffee." Y/n suggested, putting on her boots and grabbing the glasses that were on the nightstand next to the bed. "I'm down." Chan said, looking to Felix, "I'm okay with that." The blonde shrugged, grabbing Y/n's suitcase and pulling it out into the hallway.
Y/n stood up and looked around, making sure that she had left nothing on the ground
⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙
Y/n turned and looked at her brother as she got ready to board the plane, "Okay, so you'll call when you've landed in Monaco, right?" Felix inquired, holding her wrists lightly. Y/n rolled her eyes and chuckled, "I promise that I'll call you as soon as I get to my new home in Monaco. Don't worry about me. Just make sure that you take care of yourself. All of you." Y/n gave a pointed look at Chan.
"What? Why'd you look at me like that?" Chan chuckled nervously, "I'm telling you to take care of yourself. You tend not to do that." Y/n joked, looking him in the side. Chan jumped away as if he was shocked and held his side, "No promises, but I'll try."
"Flight 35 A is now boarding."
Y/n looked over at where people were beginning to line up, "Alright, it seems I've got to go." The girl pointed behind her with a thumb. Felix pulled his sister into a hug and laid his head on her shoulder, "You better call me when you land. I'll fly to Monaco myself if you don't." He said voice muffled into her sweater vest.
"Okay, let go. I have to board." Y/n groaned, pushing the blonde away from her playfully, "See you, Y/n." Chan said, giving the girl a quick hug. Y/n grabbed her carry-on and boarded the plane, "Make sure the other Stray Animals are around when I call. I want to talk to all of you." Y/n spoke.
After a long flight, of which she slept through most, she hopped off the flight feeling groggy and completely disoriented. To be quite honest, she just wanted to go to sleep in a bed with thick blankets and the fan blasting on her face so she didn't overheat while sleeping. The thing was, she wouldn't be able to meet up with the person who sold her the house until the next day because the offices were closed and her stuff wouldn't arrive until the next day either, so she had to get a hotel for the night.
Y/n groaned as she rolled her neck, attempting to massage the stiffness out of her shoulder and neck as she entered the Uber, "Uh, Hôtel Fairmont Monte Carlo, s'il vous plaît." Y/n spoke in a tired and dull tone.
The driver nodded and pulled off. Y/n pulled out her phone and pressed on the contact of the one person she knew would be up. It was 9:41 PM in Monaco, which meant it was 4:41 AM in Seoul currently and there was one person she could guarantee would be up at that time.
Chan.
Y/n pulled out a pair of headphones with a large-diameter ear cup that completely encloses her ear and audio processor and put them on. Y/n looked out the window while the phone rang, "Hey! You're in Monaco, I'm guessing." Chan said as his face popped up on the screen. "Yeah, I'm in an Uber right now. I'm heading to the hotel." Y/n mumbled, mouth stretching into a little yawn.
"Oh, yeah. Your stuff isn't there yet, is it?" Chan asked, looking at something off to the side, "No, it'll be arriving tomorrow afternoon. I'll be contacting Mrs. Wolff tomorrow as well to schedule the interview. The jet lag was going to be a bitch." Y/n sighed, leaning against the window. "Yeah, it is. What time is it there?" Chan questioned, "It's, uh, 9:43 PM." Y/n answered, dragging her eyes away from the fogged-up window to the face on her phone.
"Have you eaten?" Chan questioned, "No, not yet. Have you?" Y/n raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I ate some ramen earlier. I'm just snacking on some honey butter chips right now." Chan responded, lifting the yellow bag to the screen.
Y/n opened her mouth to say something, but she was interrupted by the driver, "Madame, nous sommes arrivés à votre destination."
Y/n looked out the window and saw they were indeed in front of the luxury hotel, "D'accord, merci, monsieur. Je vous souhaite une excellente soirée. Sorry, Chan. I have to go. Tell Lixie and the others to text me when they can." Y/n said, exiting the car.
"Okay, I will. Have a good night." Chan said, "Have a good day, mate." Y/n said before hanging up. Y/n pocketed her phone and grabbed her items from the trunk. She waved at the driver in thanks and made her way into the hotel. It was a random one that she picked out and it was probably way too luxurious for a one-night stay, but it was the closest to where her new home would be and she was way too tired to find an even cheaper hotel.
She checked in and paid for the room, trudging up the stairs in a slumped-over position. As soon as she found her room, she stood up and unlocked it as if she was being followed by someone and had to enter quickly. Y/n threw the door open and closed, dropping her bags where she stood before making her way to the bed and getting in
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Y/n woke up the next day and immediately ordered an Uber. Her items would be arriving today and she already slept in pretty late. Y/n's dark brown eyes swept the room until they landed on the digital clock on the dresser. It was 2:52 PM. The truck with her stuff would be there around four and the realtor would be there around 3:00, so she had to get going pretty quickly. Luckily, her Uber was on its way and she would be at her new address in no time.
Honk!
Y/n's head snapped up once she had heard the honking of the horn. She could only assume that they were there for her and the chime from her phone telling her that her ride has arrived only confirmed her suspicion. Y/n quickly gathered her items and sped and walked out of the front of the building with her hand up in a wave to show that it was her who had ordered the Uber. Y/n pulled up the trunk after the driver had opened it from the inside of the car.
Y/n put her suitcase and carry-on bag into the trunk and closed it, rushing to get to the backseat and get into the car. "Bonjour, Monsieur. Monaco, La Condamine, 98000 Monaco, s'il vous plaît." Y/n said breathily, pulling her phone out of the bag she had and opening the notes app. Seeing as she would have to move all of her stuff in, of course with the help of the moving pros, and there were some other things she needed to do through the day, she decided that it would be a good idea to make a to-do list.
To do for today and tomorrow
Move my stuff into the house
Rearrange everything to my liking
Unpack everything
Go grocery shopping
Call Mrs. Wolff back
Y/n reread the list over and over to see if anything else came to mind, but when nothing did, she pocketed her phone again and stared out the window. Monaco was a truly gorgeous place and she could see herself living out the rest of her life in this beautiful country.
She could definitely see herself finding a man or woman, who would most definitely be an F1 fan seeing as the country basically lived and breathed F1, finding a much better home, settling down, and having a family.
It wasn't something she wanted anytime soon since she was still pretty young, but it was something she could see happening when she was ready.
Actually, now that Y/n thought about it, and as the car passed by the water, she doesn't think any house, which was actually one of those apartments where you have a whole floor to yourself, would be better than the one she got. It cost an arm and a leg to get and she would be able to afford it after she finally started the PA position.
The flat included three bedrooms, one bathroom, two shower rooms, one separate toilet and a kitchen. In total, it has four rooms. Two underground parking spaces provide space for any vehicles and a balcony that overlooked the water. It that high street, city center, bus station, and shopping center all within 500 m, so it was well situated.
Y/n sighed and closed her eyes. This was the start of her new life. While she was is Monaco, she was going to be a different person then what she was in Australia. Gone is the shy, antisocial, introverted girl that lived in Sydney and in is the girl who is still the same thing, but trying to be more confident.
"Pardonnez-moi, madame. Nous sommes arrivés." The driver announced, "Hm? Oh, merci beaucoup." Y/n thanked as she exited the car. She waited until the driver popped the trunk and then grabbed her things, "Merci encore, madame. J'espère que vous passerez une excellente soirée."
The driver gave Y/n a smile, "C'est très gentil de votre part. J'espère que vous passerez également une excellente soirée." She responded before driving off, giving Y/n a wave as she drove off.
"Miss Lee?" A voice with a thick accent called out from behind her. Y/n whirled around to face a tall man with dark, curly hair, a chisled jaw, and broad shoulders. It was the realtor, "Ah, Mr. Tomatis. How are you doing today?" Y/n greeted, looking to the side so she didn't make eye contact. "I am well. Listen, I would love to stay and talk with you, but I have an important showing to do, so here's your keys. Enjoy your new home." Mr. Tomatis gently place the keys into her hands before walking off.
"Oh-kay. Guess it's time to check out the new place in person." Y/n took a deep breath, trilling as she exhaled. The girl made her way into the building until she reached her floor. Y/n put the key into the door and unlocked it, "Home sweet home, I guess. Once I step through this door, my new life officially starts." Y/n mumbled, resting her forehead against the cool wood. Y/n opened the door and wheeled her suitcase in behind her, "Woah, this is sick!" Y/n awed, looking around her home.
She left the suitcase and carry-on near the entrance and walked around, looking through each room and mentally mapping what went into each room and how she would lay everything out.
Once she was done with her mental mapping, her hands fell to her sides and she looked around with a flat face and eyes dulled due to boredom.
She didn't know what to do now.
The truck wouldn't be there until four and it was only... Y/n looked down at the screen of her phone, which displayed the time in a large blue font...3:12.
Suddenly, an idea popped into Y/n's head. She had to schedule the interview and was advised to do so once she was settled down enough, but since she had time to waste, why not do it now? Y/n opened her contacts and pressed on Susie's, making sure it was on speaker, "Hello?" The sweet Irish voice that Y/n had heard last time, answered the phone.
"Uh, yes. It's Y/n Lee. I'm calling to set up my interview for the PA position." Y/n stammered, "Oh, Ms. Lee! I've been expecting your call back. I assume that means you're in Monaco?" Susie asked, "Yeah, uh, yes...ma'am." Y/n confirmed, nodding as of the woman on the other line could see her.
"Great, I know that you're going to need some time to settle down completely, so the interview will not be taking place any time this week. How about the next week around 10:00 AM? What day works for you?" Susie questioned, "I can do next week. How about Wednesday?" Y/n pulled out a pen and pad of paper to write down the date and time. "Wednesday works perfectly. Alright, I will e you then." Susie said.
"See you then." Y/n confirmed before pressing the 'end call' button. Just as Y/n put her phone on the counter, she got another call but this time from the company that had her stuff, telling her that they had arrived early and were ready to move her stuff in.
Y/n ran out the front door and down the stairs to see that they had indeed arrived earlier than planned and were already beginning to unload the lighter stuff, "Hey, I didn't expect you to be so early. Please, follow me and I'll show you where my apartment is." Y/n said, grabbing a box and leading the way to her floor.
After showing the movers where she was, Y/n went back down to grab another, but before she could make it too far, someone stopped her. "Hey, I couldn't help but notice you're moving in. Do you want some help?" A tall slender man with dark hair and dark eyes. The man in front of her was the very definition of tall, dark, and handsome and Y/n was the definition of awkward around pretty people.
Y/n opened her mouth to decline, probably stutter through the sentence before falling too embarrassed to continue speaking, when another voice spoke up. "Babe, what are you doing? Who's this?" A woman who absolutely gorgeous saddeled herself next to the man, looking up at Y/n with a raised, perfectly sculpted, eyebrow. "I-uh..." Y/n's eyes darted around frantically, trying to find any way out of the situation.
She knew she said she was going to be a totally different person than she was in Australia, but she had the worst night of sleep where her body got too hot with the blankets, too cold with the fan, and still too hot with both. She also kept waking up randomly during the night, feeling dizzy and disoriented. She also may be up and doing things, but she was severely jet lagged and wanted to do nothing, but drop dead on the floor and sleep until she could physically no longer sleep.
Y/n was going to be quite honest, she could use the help and it would make things go a lot faster, but how was she, a socially awkward person, to talk to two very pretty people? 
Answer; she didn't.
She walked past them with a quick 'excuse me' pretending like she didn't hear them. If they got upset with her, she'll just say her hearing aids weren't on or turned up enough for her to hear that they were speaking to her. "Wait! Ma'am, hold on." The man called out, following Y/n outside and grabbing her wrist gently, stopping her in her tracks. Y/n steeled herself and whirled around with a fake smile, "Oh, sorry. Can I, uh, can I help you?" Y/n asked, eyes darting between the man, who was giving her a smile, and the woman, who was scowling at her with her arms crossed.
"Yes, you can help us. My boyfriend asked you a question and you just walked past us as if you didn't hear. Are you deaf or something?" The girl sneered.
"Yes."
"Pa-pardon?" The girl asked, dropping her arms, Y/n turned her head to the side, showing the couple her cochlear and the the hearing aid, "I-I am in fact...deaf." Y/n muttered, turning to go get more boxes. Behind her she could hear the flustered man scolding his girlfriend while she stammered out flustered responses, 
"How could you-?!"
 "I..I didn't know, okay? Hop off my balls."
"Woman, what balls would I be hopping off of?"
"I... You... Just shut up! We should be helping anyway."
The two stopped their flustered play fighting as Y/n walked past. They both grabbed boxes and followed her, "Hey, we are so sorry." The man spoke up, speed walking so he was next to Y/n, "Especially me. I didn't know you were actually deaf and even if you weren't, I wasn't being the nicest. It's just, and this isn't an excuse, there have been some... how do I say this?" The girl asked, looking up.
"Issues." The man supplied, the woman snapped her fingers and pointed at her boyfriend before quickly putting her hand back under the box as it began to tip over in her hands, "Issues. We have had some issues with our last neighbours and it made me sort of defensive. Sorry about that. My name Chiara Lorenzi and this is my boyfriend..." Chiara trailed off so that he could speak for himself.
"Aaron Antognelli. And you are?" Aaron asked, depositing the box on the floor of Y/n's apartment, "Y/n Lee." Y/n answered. "It's nice to meet you, Y/n. I hope we get to become very good friends in the near future." Chiara said, nudging the taller girl as she and Aaron walked out to grab more boxes.
With the extra two sets of hands, Y/n and the movers were able to get everything inside quickly and it was a good thing too since the sky began to dark with thick rain clouds. "Um, thank you for your help." Y/n muttered, going into her house and beginning to close the door when a hand appeared between the door and the frame, keeping her from closing it fully, "Hold on there, kangaroo. Don't you want help unpacking?" Aaron asked.
"Oh, no. I couldn't ask for that. You have done quite a bit a-and I don't know you well enough." Y/n frantically shook her head. The couple shared a look before turning back to Y/n, "Please, we... I insist. We want to make up for the rocky way we greeted you. Of course, we won't force you to and if you don't want us to help you, we'll leave." Chiara said.
Y/n sighed and nodded, opening the door fully to let the couple in. She didn't know them or trust them, but she also needed all the help she could get. That, and she was shit at decorating, so it would be nice to enlist the help of someone else.
Chiara and Aaron looked around, "Why does your apartment look so much better than ours?" Aaron asked, "I thought they were all the same." Y/n said, looking at her spacious place. "Nah, yours has much more space, but it could be the fact that you're living alone that makes it seem that way." Aaron shrugged.
Chiara whirled around and clapped her hands together, "Alright, let's get this done."
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With a yelp, Y/n fell out of her bed as the alarm she had set on her phone blared in her ear that contained the hearing aid. She had so much fun with Aaron and Chiara the previous night that she ended up going to be later than she usually liked to whenever she had something important to do the next day. After the day they helped her unpack, the two quickly became friends Y/n and they had been hanging out with each other ever since.
Y/n groaned and hobbled over to a cabinet near her bed where she kept her medicine, "Shit, getting drunk the day before my interview was not smart." Y/n grumbled, opening a bottle of pills and a bottle of water from her mini fridge.
Y/n gathered her clothing and put it on the end of the bed then went and took a scalding hot shower that helped her sober up. Y/n gave a quiet groan as she messaged her shoulders, "Man, my shoulders are stiff." She complained.
Stepping out of the shower, Y/n put on her outfit, which consisted of wool wide-leg pants, a skims t-shirt bodysuit, a nocturne cropped jacket, and a pair of heeled patchwork boots. Looking in the mirror, Y/n narrowed her eyes, "Hmm, wait." Y/n looked around to the clothes she had thrown everywhere when looking for a good outfit.
Her room was covered in an explosion of beige, brown, white, and black. There was not a lick of color in any of her wardrobe, save for her shoes, which were still not brightly colored, so they still fit her aesthetic. "I need to add some color to my wardrobe." Y/n muttered, before grabbing her things and making her way down to where the Uber was waiting for her.
She gave the driver the address of a café that Susie had suggested, Café de Paris, and  off they went. Y/n's heart thudded so hard in her chest that she was pretty sure that the beat was coming from her stomach rather than her chest. Y/n ran a hand through her long, messy hair and tried to calm the nervous feeling in her stomach.
The driver looked at Y/n through the rear mirror and cleared his throat, "Nerveux? Vous avez un rendez-vous ou une raison de vous énerver?" He asked, causing Y/n to jump from the sudden addressing. "Euh, oui. J'ai un entretien très important. J'ai déjà obtenu le poste, mais je suis encore nerveux." Y/n answered shakily, wringing her hands together nervously.
The driver studied Y/n through the mirror before turning his eyes back to the road, "Eh, don't be nervous. It must be just a 'get to know you' interview." The driver said, switching to English and waving a hand to the side as if he was brushing Y/n's nervousness away.
"You're right. Merci, Monsieur." Y/n sighed, leaning back against the headrest. The rest of the car ride was spent in silence.
⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙
Susie sat at a table in Café de Paris, occasionally looking at her watch as she waited for Y/n to arrive. Admittedly, she had arrived a bit too early, but she was excited. She had been looking forward to finally starting the F1 academy and with Y/n working by her side, she'd make these girls into Formula One champions.
Susie continued looking out the window for Y/n, even though she has no idea what Y/n looked like at all. Y/n walked through the door and approached Susie from behind, "Mrs. Wolff?" Y/n spoke up, causing the blonde woman to jump up. As soon as they were face-to-face, both women froze.
Now, Y/n was open about her sexuality and what she liked, but Susie wasn't. Susie had never been interested in women and she wasn't one who would ever fall in love when she already had a husband and a beautiful son, but Susie's heart raced looking at the younger woman and she couldn't understand why. Susie had no problem admitting when another woman is beautiful and the one in front of her? Well, she was drop dead gorgeous in Susie's eyes.
"Ah, Ms. Lee. You startled me." Susie chuckled, putting a hand on her chest to calm her racing heart. Whether it was racing because of Y/n's beauty or because she genuinely got startled, she didn't know. Either way, the woman in front of her made her heart race. "My apologies, Mrs. Wolff. I didn't mean to scare you." Y/n apologized, giving the older woman a shallow bow instinctively.
"Shall we sit and begin?" Susie asked, gesturing to the chair. Y/n nodded and sat down across from the older woman. "Okay, remember that you already have the job. This is just to get to know you a bit more. Do you want to order something or do you just want to start?" Susie questioned.
"I would like to order something." Y/n muttered, Susie gestured to someone and a waiter came over, "Are you ladies ready to order?" The waiter asked politely. "Yes, I would like a chocolate chaud and panna cotta parfumeé au citron." Susie told the waiter who wrote it down before turning to Y/n, "I would like Le Chou Profiterole and the Irish coffee. Please." Y/n said.
Once the waiter finished writing down their orders and left, Susie turned back to Y/n with a smile that made Y/n want to throw herself off a cliff. She was so pretty and Y/n didn't think Susie knew just how gorgeous she was.
"Okay, let's start while we're waiting for our orders. Can you tell me about yourself?" Susie questioned, "Oh okay, um... I'm Y/n Lee, I am half Chinese and Half Australian, I am 23 years old, I want to do modeling in my spare time, I like surfing and skiing, and I used to be a Formula Two driver before I contracted meningitis and had to stop." Y/n replied.
"You contracted meningitis?" Susie asked, "I did. I lost hearing in my right ear," Y/n turned her head and moved her hair, showing her cochlear, "I had to get a cochlear for my right ear and I have a hearing aid in my left because I'm losing my hearing in that ear. After I got my surgery, I just decided not to continue driving even though I would love to continue." Y/n shrugged.
Susie nodded, "If you had the chance, would you try and continue to drive in F2?" Susie questioned. Y/n sighed and looked around the café, "I honestly never thought about it. I wanted to but I didn't have enough money to continue, so I thought that my chances were over. If I had the chance to do it again, I don't know if I would take it. I'm turning 23 soon and I fell like I'm getting too old." Y/n said, looking up as the waiter arrived with their stuff.
"Thank you/Merci." Susie and Y/n said simultaneously. Y/n brought the glass mug up to her lips and took a sip of the drink. Y/n put the mug down and looked at Susie again, "What are your goals for the next five years?" Susie asked.
"Hmm, I think I still see myself working in the motorsports world or perhaps attempting to further my modeling career. Or both." Y/n answered, picking up one of the cream puff and taking a bite, refraining from making any sort of noise. 
"Do you consider yourself a passionate person when it comes to this sport?" Susie inquired, Y/n nodded as she swallowed the pastry in her mouth, "I was..am...Before I got meningitis, I was obsessed with being a Formula One driver. I was about as passionate about it like most of the guys on the grid. It was my passion." Y/n explained.
Susie nodded and sat back in her chair, "That'll be all." She said, picking up her spoon and eating some of her panna cotta parfumeé au citron. Y/n paused halfway from the plate where she was reaching for another mini creampuff, "That's all?" She asked, "That's all." Susie reiterated 
"Okay." Y/n nodded. She was honestly so unsure as to why she needed to do the interview when she was only going to be asked about four questions, "Now, let's get to know each other since we're going to be working closely together. My name is Suzanne Wolff, but you can call me Susie. I am Scottish, 39 years old, I have a wonderful husband who is the team principal of Mercedes-AMG PETRONAS Formula One team, and I have a gorgeous fiver-year-old son named Jack." Susie introduced herself.
The woman held out a hand for Y/n to shake, "It's wonderful to meet you, Mrs. Wolff. I look forward to working with you." Y/n said, grabbing the older woman's hand and shaking it firmly. Susie waved off her formalities, "Oh, please. Call me Susie. We'll be working close together, so we might as well drop the formalities." She chuckled.
The two women continued to talk about random topics, getting to know each other more and more. The two became quick friends and even made plans to hang outside of work sometime in the future and even talked about Y/n meeting her son and husband since she would have to meet them eventually.
By the time Y/n was in her Uber and on her way home, it was well into the afternoon and Y/n had a small permanent smile on her face as she thought about the older woman.
Y/n hated to admit it, but she tended to catch feelings for people quite easily. She didn't and never would believe in love at first sight, but she did believe that one can get to know someone well enough to gain some sort of feelings for someone. 
And Y/n could tell that the bubbling feeling in her stomach was her feeling giddy and anxious. She was beginning to feel something for the older married woman, but she brushed it off. It was just a small puppy crush, and even if it wasn't, nothing would ever come of it. Susie was a heterosexual married woman with a family and if there was one thing Y/n could never be, it was a homewrecker.
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 Susie entered her home happily. Her husband and son greeting her at the entrance, "Hello, liebling. How was the interview? I can assume it went well since you're smiling from ear to ear." Toto said, kissing his wife on the forehead. "She's perfect, Toto. She is everything I wanted and more in a personal assistant. Not to mention she's absolutely gorgeous. If she were to go to a GP, people would assume she is some sort of supermodel WAG." Susie said absentmindedly.
Toto gave his wife an odd look as she bent down to greet their five-year-old. His wife was what some people would call a girl's girl and she definitely has complimented other women before, but the way she had talked about the woman she had met with made him feel curious. She had never sounded so infatuated with anyone other than him and Jack.
Of course, Toto knew that his wife was not going to cheat on him and especially not with another woman, but there was just a feeling in his gut that said there was something more than just a regular excitement to be getting the F1 Academy project off the ground. 
"Yeah? Is that right?" Toto asked, "Yes. She used to be a F2 driver too, so she is the most perfect candidate for the job. I think you and Jackie would lover her." Susie said, kissing the top of Jack's head and carrying him into the kitchen.
Toto shook his head as he chuckled. He didn't know what the woman was like, but she must have been super amazing because she left such an impression on his wife that she was positively gushing about the new PA.
By the time Susie stopped talking about the new PA, Toto himself couldn't wait to meet her and he was now sharing the excitement that she was practically projecting off her in waves.
This was the start of something new and both Wolff's could tell.
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↳ ❝ [Taglist] ¡!❞
@exotic-iris13 @alliwantisadonut @evie-119 @xoscar03 @cheyxfu @laur2608 @sunnylikesfrogs @goldenmoonbeam @victorharrington @only-nope
Unable to tag all of you
This one was over 6k words. I felt like I needed to give you guys this since I had been away for so long.
DO NOT ask me to update this story. I'll update when I can.
Anyway, only accepting 9 more people to be tagged
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marzipanandminutiae · 2 years
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you know how eventually you can cobble together the plot of media you don’t actually engage with from following fans on Tumblr?
that has never happened for me with...god I don’t even know what it’s called. The Locked Tomb? Harrow The Ninth? Death And Gay And Death And Gay And Memes [five-hour guitar solo]? this is the degree to which I genuinely have no fucking clue about this book series: I follow multiple hardcore fans, and I do not even know its proper name
plot? oh you want to know the plot? I could not have less of a clue what the plot is. none of the information I’ve learned- and there’s been a lot of it - has gelled into anything cohesive in my brain
I know there’s necromancy
I know it’s Deeply Really Truly Incredibly Sapphic
I cannot tell if it’s set in alternate universe (because that would make the most sense given the snippets of worldbuilding I’ve seen) or Earth’s future (because Memes apparently???)
I know some people have numbers after their names? but it’s something to do with numbered clans, not their ancestors having the same name?
I know The One Gay Death Lady Is Based On A Barbie From The 80s, Physically
(they are all Gay Death Ladies, it seems)
at this point I refuse to google it, even though I easily could. I have too much fun reading posts like “omg when Sapphia Dodecarius used Alex’s blood for the ritual to raise the dead king after they fucked with a strap made from his rib I couldn’t even” with absolutely zero context
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britneyshakespeare · 11 months
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The actor Junius Brutus Booth in costume as Edmund Mortimer in Shakespeare’s Henry IV, Part 1 (1823), painted by John B. Neagle
#shakespeare#the henriad#art#this was john wilkes booth's father.................. so for that reason i will not be tagging the actor by name lol#idk WHAT kind of weirdos i would invite to my blog by doing that but for historical transparency i did cite the actor#listen. i. he died in 1852 i bet he sucked as a person but he didn't assassinate anybody okay#the portrait is bitchin and i found it while looking up#henry iv part 1#i henry iv#william shakespeare#edmund mortimer#john b. neagle#i wish there were more resources to learn about the lady mortimer#i also wish she had more actual dialogue in the play i find her so interesting#i wonder what elizabethan performances were like of her!!! bc all of her dialogue is just [speaks in welsh] or [sings in welsh]#it makes it so hard to imagine her as a reader. normally i like the abstract exercise of envisioning plays in my head but#wo her own words it's so much less of an approachable challenge#i don't even speak welsh too#and i wonder what the history of her being represented on stage is like#did they normally have an actual welsh actor/actress play her? i sort of DOUBT it was originally like that in the 1590s#but im sure if it's a high-budget production done today it's only natural to seek out a welsh-speaking actress and have her collaborate#w her own dialogue? right?#it's so surreal too bc shakespeare's works almost never acknowledge differences in language#it rarely has much to do w the plot#the only other passing reference i can think of off the top of my head is 'twas greek to me' and that was offstage someone spoke greek#in julius caesar#idk!!!! man!!!!! i just find it interesting#most of shakespeare's characters wouldn't have even natively spoken english so it's just never mentioned#but in the history plays. well of course they spoke english they were englishmen! except those celtic ppls#who always come up as just. iconic charismatic bastards and rebels. it's a very prejudicial interpretation but i have fun w it
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trash-bin-ary · 4 months
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I still think about the name I came up with when I was unsure if I liked my legal name and like jeioebe could the world be super cool about having 2 names or that using a different name at all than legal wasnt nerve wracking please
#this is a post i made#me back at it again not being sure if this is a vent post or not#okay actual tags now they do have the non-legal name used so idk if you want mystery of my irl life look away#listen Mil is a great name to me even if I’m also hyper conscious of it being I guess obviously different even though I want to be vis queer#o(-( idk I just thought about using [legal] and Mil and he/they and was like yeah euphoria#and like… I think if it wasn’t my legal name I would not choose that name but I don’t think I could imagine not having it I love it#I’m also just aware it doesn’t exactly line up with me in my head and when I tried only Mil I was like I miss using my legal sorta#… idk that post that’s like what did people think trans names are: what trans peoples names secretly are: made me like yooo other people hav#secret names… oh no I don’t have multiple unless you count my internet name which I don’t it’s distinctly for safety. it’s just the 2 and#excluding the year I was trying the other out I don’t exactly tell people it#yknow the beginning of college I did use both I think but then I got a different friend group and it was with someone I used to know and so#the nerves came back#anyway sidebar I think the reason I don’t really consider Ary a real name is cause my first internet name was actually the first trial of Mi#and then once it moved to the real word I changed to align with my username for anonymousness#like to be clear I like the name Ary but I would not go by it to people outside of the internet
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steddiealltheway · 8 months
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(So, idk if anyone has ordered or seen the Scoops Ahoy costumes from Amazon or whatever, but the shorts for Robin are tight and short. But the shorts for Steve are like the ones seen in the show. Which leads me to this thought…)
Steve’s first day at Scoops Ahoy is… alright?
Actually, it’s pretty miserable.
Scooping ice cream is way harder than it looks. And for some reason he can’t get that perfect rounded shape. It just comes out in pieces that he has to mash into cups and balance on top of cones.
Plus, he’s pretty sure his coworker hates him.
Her name is Robin, and she scowls and dramatically points at her name tag when he asks for it. To make matters worse, they apparently went to high school together, but he doesn’t have the vaguest memory of her. (To be fair, they did not run in the same social circles with her being in band and even theatre and with Steve being “King Steve.”)
But for some reason, she loves to poke fun at him especially when he fails to get any girl’s number. It’s like the Harrington charm radiates through his hair which is blocked by the stupid hat.
But what he really notices only an hour into their eight hour shift is the way she’s tugging at her shorts. She digs her fingers under the elastic band around her thighs as if trying to stretch them out, and she’s constantly trying to pull them down as they begin to ride up.
And really, Steve not trying to perv or anything, but she’s make quite a bit of a fuss with the whole thing, cursing under her breath and obviously really uncomfortable.
So, when the store is fairly empty, Steve turns to her and asks, “Do you want to change shorts with me?”
For the first time, Robin laughs. Loudly. She even snorts at the idea. But her laughter quickly dies down when she realizes Steve isn’t laughing. “Wait, you’re serious?”
Steve shrugs. “Yeah. You look uncomfortable. And hey, I’ve worn way worse to basketball practice, plus I had to wear speedos when I was on the swim team.”
Robin’s nose scrunches up. “Gross.”
Steve puts his hands on his hips and huffs, “Do you want to switch or not?”
She takes a few seconds to stare at Steve, clearly suspicious of an ulterior motive. But then, she curses and starts tugging at elastic band again. “Okay! Fine. But we’re not getting change in the same room.”
Steve rolls his eyes as he heads to the back room. “I wasn’t suggesting that.”
In the end, Steve is left to change in the damn freezer storage area while Robin gets the whole break room. But he doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable, so he sucks it up and doesn’t complain. (Although he really really wants to.)
He waits for her to knock on the door to signal she’s ready, looking down at the shorts. They’re not horrible, but he can understand why Robin was uncomfortable - as they’re already stretching over his ass and thighs while starting to ride up beyond mid thigh.
Even after she knocks, Steve asks, “Ready for me to come out?”
He thinks he hears her laugh about that for some reason before she answers, “Yeah!”
He steps into the room and glances down at her new shorts momentarily before nodding. “Better?”
Robin smiles slightly and nods before heading back out to the main area.
Steve follows behind her. “Hey, they gave me two pairs of these. I can give you the extra pair to wear and keep during our next shift together.”
Robin turns to him and narrows her eyes. “What are you asking for in return?”
“Nothing,” Steve says, eyebrows furrowed. He hopes she understands that he really means it and won’t hold this over her head like an asshole.
She just stares at him for a few seconds before almost wondrously saying, “Huh.”
Luckily, she seems to relax for the first time since their shift started.
After this, the teasing from before has less of an edge to it, but it becomes relentless. Steve almost thinks that maybe this is the start of a wonderful friendship. But Robin would never want that from him.
He only changes his mind about this later when Eddie Munson walks into the store while Steve is cleaning the tables. He accidentally knocks over a napkin and bends over to pick it up, feeling his shorts ride up.
When he stands up, he’s met with a pink faced Munson who stares at him - or rather his ass - with wide eyes.
“See something you want to sample?” Steve asks honestly a bit against his will because it’s part of the Scoops Ahoy greeting. (Only for some reason, he’s unable to get any other part of the greeting out.)
Eddie’s pink face turns red as his eyes snap up to Steve’s. His mouth opens and closes a few times before he quickly breathes out, “I need to leave.”
When the boy practically runs out the store, Steve naturally glances over his shoulder at Robin, trying to gauge if she just saw what he did.
She’s already laughing behind the counter saying between bouts of laughter, “See something you want to sample?”
Steve huffs and feels a blush rise to his cheeks. “Shut up,” he mumbles out, throwing the napkin away before returning behind the counter. “I’m never asking that again.”
But as Robin continues to laugh, Steve can’t help but join in a little, wondering if maybe she would like to be friends and if Eddie will ever come back.
So, maybe his first day wasn’t pretty miserable or just alright. Maybe it was perfect.
2K notes · View notes
bunny584 · 2 months
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OBSESSED: GETO (PT. II)
A/N: I…guys this one is…dirty. For so many reasons. I don’t. I can’t look myself in the eye. Suguru made me do it 😅
C/W: Voyeurism, Mature themes, 18+ (Part I here)
Music inspo: This is SO Chase Atlantic coded
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Acceptance.
They say the first step to recovery from addiction is acceptance.
Fine, then.
Suguru Geto’s addiction to you is absolute. And he has no interest in recovery.
He’s accepted it. You own him.
Granted, he didn’t realize just how tight your leash is. Not until last night.
Suguru is a logical, reasonable, creature of habit. He doesn’t need much. Really, he doesn’t.
But fucking you to sleep nightly is non-negotiable.
Or rather, fucking his hand. While watching you watch TV. And swirl a glass of Pinot noir in your gorgeous mouth. With your graceful fingers mindlessly swimming in a bowl of popcorn.
Extra butter. With tons and TONS of salt!
The first time you ordered your side snack at the movie theatre, Suguru almost keeled over.
But then he made the glorious mistake of flickering over to you, mid movie. Just as your index finger slid between those pillow soft lips. Pulling remnants of salt and butter away, leaving a trail of lip gloss behind.
He could’ve sucked it off your finger right there and then.
The way you pistoned in and out of your mouth. Doe-eyed and trained on the screen. Not a thought in your head. It was his gateway drug.
The butterfly effect.
A moment in time that rerouted fate.
His excruciatingly beautiful, platonic best friend, now a visceral need.
And just like any addiction. There were stages.
Denial: He doesn’t see you that way. No, of course not. His mind just got caught in a horny spiral. He’ll snap out of it. Things will go back to normal.
Anger: How could you do this to him? You know how disorienting you are. That smile. Always looking up at him with puppy eyes and parted lips. You’re a cocktease. Begging. Pleading. Needing him to debase you to nothing. Is that it? You want him to ruin you, don’t you? And he could. Fuck you into next week. Until you’re screaming and crying. He’d smear those tears all over his cock and fuck them back into your pouty mouth. It’s what you deserve.
Shame: It’s perverse. You call to vent about your day. He rubs himself raw while you talk. You kiss his cheek. His dick leaks. How could he do this to someone who trusts him like you do?
It was a vicious, muddled cycle. He could barely function around you.
Rushed greetings. Kurt words. Clipped responses. Avoidance.
He had to protect you from his depraved thoughts. Shield you from sordid actions taken in the dark — as if they would spontaneously materialize in the light to harm you.
And they did. But in the opposite way Suguru intended.
“Hey, HEY! Suguru, what the hell is up with you?”
You squeezed his wrist with all your might. It felt like nothing. But the weight in your tone hit him like a freight train.
“What are you talking about?”
“You’ve been distant."
“I’ve been right here.”
“You’ve been distant, Suguru.”
Quartz showers streamed down your beautiful face and his cock quivered. Drooling along his thigh. So. Fucking. Pretty when you cry.
Did you know?
How irresistible you looked?
Glassy eyes. Trembling lips. Vulnerable. Soft enough to hunt.
Did you know?
How he clawed his palm bloody to keep from gripping your neck. Shoving you to your knees. And giving you a reason to whine his name like that again.
“Why won’t you just talk to me?”
“I have to go—“
“I don’t care!”
“Wha—“
“I don’t care!! I don’t care what it is okay? I just…I miss..I miss my best friend.”
You elevated off your heels. No where near eye level, but enough to cradle his face in your dainty hands.
And God dammit. He might as well have been wearing a dog tag with your name on it.
If lost, return to Owner.
Between your misty eyes. Swollen lips. Face like a canvas to paint with his cum. He bit back a pathetic groan. And choked out an apology.
Most importantly, he made a promise to never hollow out your friendship like that again.
So, instead he fills it. With ropes of his arousal. And fuck, it’s rhapsody.
The stages. The anger, disbelief, shame…it was worth it. Because this ecstasy? It’s sublime.
Constant ascension. Never once reaching cruising altitude.
…which made the fall agonizing.
Last night, in a sick, twisted turn of fate - his camera feed cut off.
One minute Suguru is pumping into his abused rubber cocksleeve. Sliding his eyes up and down your hips until he was dizzy in the head. Pre cum squelching out of the little space between his cock and the ring of his 5th battered toy. Unintelligible praises leaking out of him, cementing his devotion. And just as the curtains began to fall on his vision. Balls heavy and hot with his seed—
Then he saw nothing.
Suguru couldn’t recognize the man in his room last night. Fingers aching. Mind racing. Dick red, angry, pulsating for its one and only vice.
Alarm bells rang between his ears. Crash landing into an abyss. Mayday.
Mayday.
In that moment. He knew he needed more. More skin. More angles. More you.
And so, he’s standing outside your Pilates studio @ 7:28 PM. Two minutes until you’re done.
A Dragonfruit smoothie rests in his hand.
And a new camera system rests in his back pocket.
———
“Ugh, I needed that.”
You sling a cold eucalyptus towel around your neck.
“And I need him.” The comment emanates from one of your girlfriends. Both of you rounding the corner out of the studio.
Suguru.
You don’t have to look out the glass windows to know exactly who she is referring to.
“I mean, seriously. How can you not climb him like a—“
“Stop it!!” Your protest made less believable because of your sheepish giggles.
“We’re just friends.” You mutter. Pulling your gym bag out of the front lockers.
Yeah, who are you trying to convince? Her? Or yourself?
Your eyes flicker to your platonic, gorgeous best friend. Raven mane in a glossy, high ponytail. Freely cascading down his back. Curly wisps framing his razor sharp angles.
He stands tall. So Muscular. Quietly masculine. Despite how dreamy his hair is.
“Omg! Your hair!! Whats your routine?” - every woman who meets him, ever.
“Genetics.”
Suguru responds the same way every time with a dimpled smile. The other party is always immediately caught in his web.
His eyes. They lure you in like quicksand. Onyx. Swarming with grey and violet specks. Stormy. Perpetually faraway.
He’s the perfect gentleman. But always a little bit above it all. Just out of reach.
It’s mesmerizing.
You can’t blame the women for trying any and everything for a tiny piece.
Suguru catches your gaze. Silky smile pulls across his lips. He beckons you with one swirl of the liquid gold in his hands.
“What are you doing here, pretty boy?”
“Happy to see you too.” He counters with a low chuckle.
You coax the sweet treat away from him. It’s precisely what you need.
Suguru always has his pulse on you. Somehow he knows where to be and when. Every time.
“Mmm” your eyes flutter shut. Savoring the sickly sweet, cold mush on your tongue.
“Exactly what you wanted?”
“Exactly. Have I told you I love you lately?”
“Not nearly enough.” His baritone hovers over you. Traveling down your spine at light speed.
Has he always sounded this sultry?
You lazily pull yourself out of the sugar-induced dopamine hit.
Suguru moves into you like a storm cloud. Accentuating the comical difference in stature. The world around you slowly dissipates.
Lost in the desert mirage of his gaze. Everything feels conscious.
Your shallow breathing. The thrum of blood surging through your vessels. Heart rattling against its bony cage.
Time stops.
Then it happens all at once.
Before you know what is happening, your best friend’s well built arm is around your waist. His large, veiny hand palming the nape of your neck.
His lips. His plump rosy lips are on yours. Sweet and warm. Pulling, pushing, melding with you into play dough.
He’s delicious.
More delectable than you knew possible.
“Mmmgh” You moan and Suguru takes the space to push his tongue into your mouth. He’s blinding. Expertly tickling the ridges and corners of your mouth. As if to show off just how skilled he is with his tongue.
“S-Suguru..”
He pulls away far before you’re ready. Shocking you out of your lusty daze. For a moment he just rests his moist lips on yours. Exchanging breaths between each other. As if only you two are the source of oxygen around you.
“Wha…what was..”
“There’s a guy burning a crater into your back.” He finally responds. Gruff. Strained. You’ve never seen him without a tight leash around his self-command.
“I didn’t want him thinking he has a chance.”
And just like that, the familiar tame control lines his velvet baritone.
Suguru places a chaste kiss on your cheek before starting to walk in the direction of your apartment. As if the world didn’t just tilt on its axis.
You’re able to maintain a fairly normal conversation with your best friend the entire walk back to your apartment. You both laugh and joke as if he didn’t just fuck your mouth with his tongue. And as if you didn’t feel drunk off of it.
You’re just friends.
…right?
You toss your keys somewhere to your left. In the periphery you see Suguru smile and shake his head. Well aware of your messy tendencies. He leans down to take your keys and place them on the door hook.
The devil on your shoulder is deafening.
Test it.
Test him.
Your hand moves before your mind.
Your fingers hook under your sports bra. Pulling it over your head in one smooth motion. Before your mounds bounce in full view, your arm cups them against your chest.
You turn to Suguru, now topless.
“Gonna hop in the shower for a little. Are you staying for dinner?” Willing your voice to be steady and light. A casual question amidst the mayhem in your mind.
And, as expected, Suguru is the perfect gentleman.
His olive tone is even. Hands slotting into his athletic pants. Faint smile tracing on his lips, dimple apparent in his left cheek.
His eyes don’t falter below your neckline. Not even for a moment.
“Not tonight, pretty. There’s a show I want to catch. Rain check?”
Of course, you’re just friends.
Best friends.
You flash him a genuine smile. Swallowing the nagging flecks of dissappointnent beginning to weave itself within you.
“Rain check!”
And maybe 10 or so minutes after soaking in your steamy shower. Trying to wash the remnants of his kiss out of your memory, you hear your door slamming shut.
You make a mental note to ask about what show he was referring to.
———
Whiskey glides hot and cold down Suguru’s throat.
Back flushed against his desk chair.
Patiently awaiting his 10:00 PM viewing.
His dick is a steel rod. Blushing and moist. Draped in a pair of your used panties. He swiped them on his way out of your apartment.
Suguru drags his palm lazily up and down his shaft. Soaking your lingerie in beads of pre cum. It’s like he’s feeling you rubbing your plush cunt up and down his rod.
Fog is settling opaque in his mind. While he pets the flame stirring between his legs.
You haven’t even come into frame yet. But Suguru admires the pristine view he has of your room. Porcelain duvet messily strewn about. Half open night stand. Magenta vibrator propped against the corner of your drawer.
How often do you touch yourself?
What do you think about?
How pretty do you sound? When you milk pleasure from your dewy core?
“Fuck,” Suguru hisses.
He brings the whiskey glass back to his parted lips. The thought of seeing you work yourself to a peak drove his hand up and down his cock too fast. If he’s not careful he’ll cum before he’s ready.
No.
Not tonight.
Tonight he wants to savor his relapse.
24 hours sober of you was unbearable. He deserves this indulgence.
Suguru tilts his chin up. Damp hair feathering his shoulders and back feels refreshingly cool against the lava circulating beneath his skin.
“You like teasing me don’t you?” He murmurs, slowly pumping his cock through his strained grip.
The way you pulled off your sports bra. Well before you reached your bathroom door. Pretty bedroom eyes raking his face. Testing him. You knew he would go home and feverishly fuck his fist for you. Didn’t you?
A siren’s melody pulls his hazy, dazed attention back to screen.
“There she is.”
Suguru leans closer to his screens. Giving himself kudos for choosing a camera system with audiovisual integration this time around.
You step in full view of his camera and his body stills. Completely statuesque. Mouth ajar. His cock drool dribbling down his stiff hand is the only source of movement in the room.
“Fuck…fucking hell.”
There you stood. Thong as richly colored as the wine in your glass. Accentuating the dramatic dip and swell of your pretty waist and hips. The wavy lines from your slender shoulders to your full tits are enough to make him seasick. Your nipples are so hard. Puffier than he imagined.
You are immaculate.
A divine being. Heaven’s incarnate.
And even if you weren’t. Even if you were the devil. He’d follow you to the depth of hell.
A thick surge of pre cum flicking back against his lower abs pulls him briefly out of his trance. Suguru didn’t realize how hard he was strangling his length. Which is violently jerking in haphazard directions.
Begging for its real owner.
Suguru drags in a deep breath. Reluctantly unraveling his needy hand away from his manhood. Another sip of icy brown liquor.
Savor this.
As if your souls are tied, you take a sip of red wine before settling in your bed. Back against your head board. Feet planted on your plush duvet. You let your knees fall to the side and Suguru nearly drools on himself.
A blooming rose.
Presenting your swollen, misty petals to him for worship. His eyes drop to your core. A thin line of fabric laid so perfectly between your folds.
Suguru has to remind himself that you aren’t in front of him.
And he can’t just dive into your dewy cunt. And nuzzle against your bud. And lap up the honey in between your folds.
You rest your head against the wall. Exposing the delicate lines of your neck. His left hand magnets back to his cock. His right hits the record function on the screen.
You are too special not to capture.
But, even if he couldn’t record you on this system, every moment right now is etched into his mind for an eternity.
Especially the way your dainty fingers travel down your chest, along your torso, beneath the hem of your panties and settle over your clit.
“That’s it, princess.” Suguru chants beneath his clipped breaths. Dragging your soaked underwear along his messy shaft.
He matches his pace to your tiny circles. Small, gorgeous pants tumble out of you.
Your other hand palms at your tits. Pinching and pulling at your pert nipples. Your hips buck at the sweet pleasure and pain.
“Good girl”
His arousal continues to collect at his base, trickling to his inner thighs. The sound of his hilt slamming into his hand fill the room.
“God. S..Suguru…”
His name thunders between his ears.
His name wrapped in that melodic, lusty falsetto of yours.
Suguru’s brain can barely register the way your tits bounce in rhythm with your hands. Pistoning your fingers in and out of your sweet cunt. Ascending to euphoria. He can barely register the way your lips are swollen and abused from your teeth. Or the light sheen of sweat along your collarbones.
“Fuck, Suguru please..” you moan. Both hands now working your flower.
Suguru is slack jawed. Completely short circuited. He cannot move.
Unblinking, he studies you. Hands at his side. Cock spearing high in the air, leaking.
His mind is flooded with the thin, featherlight moans and whines. Sticky arousal leaks from your needy opening around your fingers. Coating your inner thighs. How you twist and groan away from your own pleasure - so clearly overstimulated but not stopping your fingers, anyway.
“Say my name, pretty girl. Say my name.” Suguru rasps out. Sharp pain lightening through him from the dryness in his throat.
And you do. You moan his name when you reach nirvana. Heaving and whining and squirming in your mess. You called for him.
“God, I’m disgusting.”
You laugh through the remnants of your high and bury yourself under the duvet. Lazily tapping the bedside lamp. Bringing Suguru’s private viewing to an end.
And his smile is vulturous.
Suguru’s hand runs the length of his insatiable cock. Slow, lazy strokes. Haphazard twitches pushing out globs of cum. Begging for an encore.
You think you’re disgusting?
Ohhh, sweet girl.
You don’t know the half of it.
829 notes · View notes
rafesaddiction · 6 months
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It's not cheating when he's your stepbrother – Rafe Cameron x Reader
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Summary: You lie about your first kiss. Will you lie about your first time too?
You are Rafe's stepsister, just graduated from boarding school and here for the summer holidays before you'll leave for college. You and Rafe used to be close, but that changed, years ago. Now he is distant and mean, and something else happens when you have your first boyfriend. A nice guy, a sweet guy, nothing like Rafe.
Concept: stepsiblings, first time, just the tip
Warnings: mdni! – smut, noncon/dubcon, rough sex, p in v, loss of virginity (virgin!reader), fingering, stepcest, violence, slapping, manhandling, mentions of child abuse (ward physically and emotionally abusing rafe), cheating (reader cheating on boyfriend), name calling (rafe calls reader slut and whore), angst, dark!rafe, mean!rafe, this starts off kinda sweet but gets quite dark.
When reading this, please do so at your own discretion. Keep in mind, this is just a work of fiction.
Word count: 9.0k (holy fuck! how did that happen?)
tagging @ashy-kit since you asked. I hope you'll like this.
“Wait! Was that actually your first kiss? Oh my god! It was!”
Sarah stared at you with large eyes, then covered her mouth, laughing. You just smiled, shrugged, and averted your gaze, feeling heat in your cheeks. It was a bit embarrassing that your younger stepsister had more experience with boys than you did. The reason for that might have been that you had gone to an all-girls boarding school practically your whole life. But truth was, if anything, away from parents, kids had even more opportunities at boarding school to gain sexual experience, be it with other students, local boys, or even teachers. You knew that a lot of your classmates did much more than just kiss when sneaking out at night. But you weren't the type to sneak out at night. You were the type to get your first kiss at 18 after graduating from said boarding school.
“Tell us more,” Wheezie insisted. She sat next to you on the couch, cross-legged, looking at you, eager to hear your story. You smiled at your little stepsister. You two had grown closer over the past years, with Wheezie discovering the internet and thus being able to chat with you even when you were hundreds of miles away at school.
“Denny is quite a good kisser though. You’re lucky, he was your first,” Sarah said, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl on the coffee table in front of her.
You knew that Sarah had hooked up with Denny. So you had, of course, told her when he had asked you out. Sarah was totally okay with it, she even encouraged you to text him back, when he texted you. Denny hadn't been her boyfriend, just one of her hook-ups, ages ago. And as of now, Sarah was too happily in love with her pogue boyfriend to be jealous at all. It was kind of a forbidden romance, Wheezie had told you all about it, but Sarah herself also liked to share, she loved talking about her boyfriend and his pogue friends and their way of living. And you liked to listen to her exciting stories or when she complained about her father or brother. You liked that you were kind of close, even though you only spent the summer and Christmas holidays at Tannyhill.
Your mother had you at a very young age and you were practically raised by your grandma. When your mother married Ward Cameron, you were old enough to be send off to one of the most prestigious boarding schools in the country. The school was in another state, but could as well have been on another continent. Your mother didn't want to have you in her new life, she already had three new kids to look after. Ward wouldn’t have minded, he made sure you knew that you were as much a daughter to him as Sarah and Wheezie. He showed his affection by paying for your expensive education. Now that you had graduated from high school, you were supposed to spend the summer before going to an ivy league school with your family in the Outer Banks.
“Did you close your eyes? Did you feel butterflies? Did he do the neck grab?” Wheezie kept shooting one question after the other and you felt your face must have been glowing. You looked away, trying to think of what to answer, when your eyes met a pair of intense blue eyes, staring at you from across the room.
Rafe, your older stepbrother, stood in the hallway, looking at you. And for some reason, you felt that damn heat had reached your ears. You quickly looked away, turning to Sarah, who was telling Wheezie that she shouldn't base her expectations on tiktoks and fanfics.
The kiss happened the night before at a kook party. You had been texting and hanging out with Denny for about two weeks. He was your age, he was charming, smart, the former captain of the football team. He was actually so good that he got a scholarship to play at a college team. Not that he would have needed the scholarship to go to college, his parents were one of the wealthiest kook families on the island. Almost as rich and influential as the Camerons. Of course, you knew Denny before, the island was small and he was one of your stepbrother's friends. But this whole thing with him only started about two weeks ago when you quite literally ran into him at the country club. He insisted on buying you another drink even though you were the one who spilled your drink on him. He texted you later, he got your number from Sarah, and, since Sarah was encouraging you, you texted back and agreed to go on a date with him. You had been on four dates already: dinner, a trip to the beach, another dinner, and a date on his family's yacht, when you went to the party with him the previous night. And then it just happened. He kissed you outside the house where the party was. It was a starry night and the kiss was nice. And after, he took your hand and walked inside with you and you smiled, as you felt the warmth of his hand around yours.
“I'll get us some fresh popcorn, then we can start the movie, okay?” You grabbed the half-empty bowl and got up from the couch, while your stepsisters were in some serious discussion about some actor from a show you had never heard of.
You left the living room and walked past Rafe, who didn't seem to have moved an inch. You didn't look up at him when you spoke to him.
“You wanna join us and watch a movie with us? It's Wheezie's choice tonight, so I guess it's whatever is trending on netflix at the moment,” you said and were about to head for the kitchen, when suddenly his hand wrapped around your arm. You stopped and looked up at him, gasping.
Rafe leaned down to you, and you felt his hand gripping tighter around your arm. You winced and were about to say something, when you met his eyes. Dark blue orbs staring at you, so very close to you.
“Why did you lie?”
You frowned in confusion.
“Why did you lie and say that that was your first kiss?”
You just gazed up at him. And despite the heat in your face, you felt a shiver running down your spine.
You parted your lips, wanting to say something, but he cut you off.
“I hate liars.”
And then he let go off you, turned around and just left, and you felt your heart beating in your chest, so rapidly, so loudly, your stepsisters in the other room must have heard it. You stepped back from the door, your back pressing against the wall, as you tried to compose yourself.
He was right. That kiss wasn't your first kiss.
Your first kiss happened with Rafe when you were 15 and he was 17.
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It was right after Christmas. Before New Year's Eve. It was late at night and you decided to have a hot chocolate before going to sleep. You met Rafe in the kitchen, standing at the open fridge, rummaging it for some leftovers from dinner. He was wearing that ridiculous Christmas sweater with the reindeer over his sleeping shorts. You couldn't help but giggle at the sight of him. He was already tall then, not as tall as he was now, but much taller than you. He was lean, less bulky. He was a boy still and he grinned like one, when he turned to look at you.
“What's so funny? You laughing at me?”
“Nothing, nothing,” you shook your head, grinning, “Sven.”
You squealed and giggled when Rafe launched a tickle-attack on you.
It used to be so easy around him. He was always sweet, sometimes teasing, but always in a sweet way. He was protective and you felt safe with him. You were closer then, and it was just easy to be yourself with him.
You got into a real tickle fight with him, chasing each other around the kitchen, as he finally got you.
“Stop, stop, stop! I surrender!” You said, out of breath. Your cheeks hurting from laughing so hard.
He stopped tickling you, but his hands still rested on your sides, and he stood very close in front of you. Your own hands clutching that ridiculous sweater of his. He looked down at you. His hair disheveled, his cheeks flushed, his chest heaving, his lips parted. He didn't laugh or grin and your own laughing had stopped too. All you heard was your rapid heartbeat and both of you panting.
And his hand touched your cheek. You felt a little spark, but instead of withdrawing, you leaned into his touch. Your lips parted as he leaned closer. His face so close, you could hardly make out his features, so you closed your eyes, and breathed in. And it was his scent that filled your lungs, before you felt his lips on yours. And that contact sent a wave of some yet unknown sensation through your body, and you felt it everywhere, felt it in your fingertips that grabbed the sweater. Felt it in your toes as you stood on them to meet Rafe's lips. Felt it on your skin, where he touched you, felt it under your skin. Felt it coursing through your veins.
A distant sound, and Rafe suddenly broke the kiss. In a state of daze you opened your eyes and moved them to what Rafe was staring at. Or to who.
Ward was standing in the door to the kitchen. His presence towering both of you. You shuddered and jumped away from Rafe.
You slowly walked backwards, your heart racing, sudden fear being the dominant emotion. But when Ward came closer, his attention wasn't focused on you. He hardly seemed to notice that you were even there. He glared at his son, glared at Rafe who just stood there, as if he was paralyzed by fear, unable to move.
You didn't wait for what happened, you chose flight and ran past Ward, ran up to your room, locking the door. You heard no screaming, no yelling, though you had expected as much. When half way up the stairs, you had heard a thud, and then something banging heavily, like a chair falling to the ground.
The next morning, you didn't see Rafe at the breakfast table. You saw your stepfather, who was smiling and being his relaxed self as ever. Only he avoided directly looking at you.
You saw Rafe later in the afternoon. You wanted to talk to him, say something, but you didn't know what. And when you saw the bruise under his eye, you had no words left.
Four days later you left to return to school. And when you came back during spring break, things were different, very different. Rafe no longer smiled at you, never laughed when you were around. When he didn't avoid you, he glared at you. And there was something so dark in his blue eyes that it made you shudder and sob at night.
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“But you have to come!” Sarah pushed out her lower lip and looked at you with her big brown eyes, pleadingly, practically begging you to come with you to the party that evening.
“I want to spend time with my favorite older sibling and I want you to meet my friends. Besides, what do you want to do here, huh? Your boyfriend is on a family trip in the Bahamas and you can't seriously want to spend another evening binge-watching The Summer I Turned Pretty with Wheezie. Come on! Pleaaase.” Sarah's pouting went up another level and she made actual puppy eyes.
You didn't mind spending another evening with Wheezie and listening to her endless monologs on why she would always choose Jeremiah over Conrad, over any guy really.
You sighed. “But I don't have anything to –”
“To wear?” Sarah interrupted you and grabbed your hand. “Come on, you can pick whatever you want from my closet.”
You sighed in defeat, but smiled, as you followed your stepsister into her bedroom.
You didn't end up with choosing anything from her closet, but she picked out an outfit for you. And Sarah had great taste and you didn't complain. She selected a light summer dress for you, fitting for a casual party at the beach. You liked how the fabric felt on your skin and how the cut accented your curves without revealing too much. The skirt was a bit shorter than what you'd usually wore, but it was the middle of summer and you were on the island and not in the city.
When looking at the mirror, you smiled at the young woman smiling at you. You touched the golden necklace you were wearing. A gift from Denny. When he gave it to you the other day, you were surprised. Wasn't it a bit early for such costly gifts? But he insisted on you taking it and he was so happy when he put it around your neck. The pendant was a green stone, it was a bit heavy, but it looked nice. You really appreciated the gesture. And you really appreciated how your boyfriend treated you. He was okay with taking things slow. He never pushed you and in these past weeks, you had never done more than holding hands. You hadn't even kissed again. – Something you wouldn't tell your sister, for a reason you didn't quite know yourself.
You enjoyed yourself a lot at the party. Sarah's friends were easy to get along with, especially JJ. You just met him like an hour ago and he had already made you laugh more than you had in the whole past month or even year. But talking with Pope was also nice, he knew a lot and you liked listening to him. You also liked watching how these two boys got into a playfight about something stupid. You didn't mind that Sarah left you with the pogues as she and John B wanted to spend some time alone.
“Now, c'mon. Dance with me, big-city girl,” JJ pointed at you, then bent his finger to indicate that you should follow him. You laughed and shook your head. He then tried to catch you with an imaginary lasso.
“You’d better go, before he does his full-on cowboy impression, and talking in that accent, and believe me, you don't wanna hear that. No one wants to hear that,” Pope told you, leaning closer to you, and then taking your cup, so you could go and join JJ at the bonfire.
You couldn't deny that the cheap beer you had been drinking had made you a bit tipsy and somehow loosened you up a bit. But mainly, you just felt comfortable in the presence of Sarah's friends that had quickly become your friends too. And you weren't the only ones dancing by the fire. Other people also danced to the music coming from someone's speakers.
JJ took your hand and twirled you around, made an effort at imitating some dance moves that looked very elaborated. It was fun, you felt a permanent grin on your cheeks, glowing with the heat from the nearby fire, the booze and the excitement. You felt free, not thinking about anything at all. Not even thinking about the way you moved, but you just did. You felt the music, felt the joy of being young and careless – and you suddenly felt something hard that you bumped into, while twirling around.
“Sorry,” you muttered and looked up, as two hands grabbed your arms.
And you looked into the angry face of your stepbrother.
You froze, just for a moment. Then you tried to get away, but Rafe only held you closer, like pulling you into a tight embrace, and for an instant you thought that he might want to dance with you. But he didn't.
“Hey!” JJ's voice behind you made your head spin around.
“Let her go!” The blond boy stood a couple of feet away, his hands clenched into fists. His whole body seemed tensed up and he glared at Rafe. JJ looked so different from how he had looked a minute ago. All that carelessness, all his smiles gone.
You felt Rafe tense up too, as his hands tightened their grip around your arms, making you wince in pain.
“JJ,” he said his name through clenched teeth as if it was an insult.
The two boys stared at each other, the tension between them was palpable. People had gathered around them, but you didn't actually take notice of them. You looked at JJ, tried to tell him not to do anything stupid, but his eyes were fixed on Rafe. You looked at Rafe. You gave up freeing yourself from his iron grip.
“Please,” you pleaded, unsure what else to say. Your voice too soft, too weak anyway. You felt cold all of a sudden, and very sober.
And then everything happened just so fast.
JJ must have stepped closer, because the next moment, Rafe pushed you behind his own body as he lunged forward to hit JJ. When he moved his arm back, his elbow hit you at your chin and you, no longer held by him, stumbled and fell to the sandy ground. But neither Rafe nor JJ took notice. When you looked up, you saw them throwing fists at each other. Their bodies colliding, this was another kind of dance. You were shocked to see such fierce violence, both of them seemingly fighting with the intend to end the other.
You were shaking and only now noticed that you had started to cry. You cried and yelled and pleaded them to stop.
Fortunately, some guys stepped in, pulling the fighting boys apart.
Rafe angrily shrugged off the guy who was holding him, while two others held JJ, who fiercely, but in vain fought to free himself.
“Rafe!” You screamed his name, and that made him stop, made him turn his head towards you, still sitting on the ground, tears running down your face.
Rafe's eyes were dark and the look on his face was unlike anything you had ever witnessed. You flinched as he came closer, suddenly so afraid of your own stepbrother. He frowned at your reaction, but proceeded. He grabbed your arm, made you cry out in pain, pulled you to your feet. And when you tried to get away, because every cell in your body told you to run, he caught you, wrapping his arms around you from behind, picking you up like you weighed nothing, held you in both his arms. Your feet kicking the air, your fists trying to hit him, you were screaming, but he easily carried you away. And no one stopped him.
Through teary eyes you saw JJ being held by the two guys while a third one punched his face, and yet he fought, tried to get away, looking at you, looking at Rafe, who carried you away, carried you from the beach to his car.
He opened the door and tossed you onto the passenger seat. You let out a groan, as something hit your back. As soon as Rafe let go off you, you tried to get up, get out, but Rafe pushed you back into the seat.
“Let me go! Just let me go!” Your hands tried to shove him out of the way.
He caught one of your wrists, twisted it in his grip, as he reached over you to fasten the seatbelt.
You whined and gave up fighting as you knew he was too strong and you had no chance against him at all.
“Please just let me go. Why are you like this?” You pleaded between sobs.
“Why am I like this?!” Rafe yelled at you and his hand shot forward to grasp your chin, pressing so hard, you feared he would crush your jaw.
“You acting like a goddamn slut messing around with a fucking pogue!”
You flinched at each word he yelled at you, his face closer and closer. His eyes so wild, his whole expression just fuming with rage, directed at you.
“I did not,” you tried to defend yourself.
“You're a fucking LIAR!”
You flinched, and when you closed your eyes, a stream of tears ran down your cheeks.
“No,” you tried again, but he cut you short.
“You think I'm stupid?” He tilted his head, frowning, his eyes small as he glared at you in disbelief. “You think I don't know what's going on? You fucking that pogue. You’re a whore. Just like Sarah. All my sisters are goddamn sluts fucking those filthy pogues. And what does that make me look like, huh? Thought about that? Thought about what it means for your family? Your free-spirited fucking lifestyle? How does that look on dad, huh? Have you ever thought about anyone but yourself? Ever thought about the consequences of what you're doing?”
You gazed at him, taken aback by his accusations, not understanding what had gotten into him.
His eyes moved down from your face to your chest, which rose and fell under your agitated breathing.
His hand slowly let go of your chin, moved down your neck. You held your breath as you felt the pressure on your throat. His tongue flicked out, wetting his lips. His hand moved down further, his palm pressing hard onto the necklace’s pendant. You winced as you felt the hard stone digging into your skin.
“My own sister. Dressed like a whore. Fucking a pogue.” His voice was now calmer, darker, and it made you shiver.
“But, Rafe,” you sobbed, your hands tentatively reaching for his arm. “I did not do anything, I swear.”
The back of his hand hit your cheek so hard, your head flew to the side and it hit the headrest of the driver's seat.
You stared at him in shock, eyes widened, lips parted, pressing your hand to your throbbing cheek.
You couldn't believe what just happened.
But instead of apologizing or saying anything that would explain what he just did, Rafe just kept looking at you, his eyes on your trembling body. You noticed only now that your dress had slipped up, revealing a bit of your underwear. You quickly reached down to pull the fabric to cover as much of your legs as possible.
You looked up as you heard him scoff.
Shaking his head, moving his lips as if talking, talking to himself, he pushed himself back from the door, slammed it shut and walked around the car to get into the driver's seat.
You shifted as far away from him as you could, pressing your shoulder against the window, but you did not try to get out. You did not try to stop him when he started the engine. You did not yell or scream or rage. You just sat there, quietly sobbing as he drove you back to Tannyhill.
And Rafe didn't say anything, didn't even look at you when he parked the car in the driveway. He didn't look back when he got into the house, just left the front door open after he went inside.
You followed, slowly, your body still shaking with sobs. Your face hurt. The throbbing had become a sharp pain by now.
You got inside the house, it was dark, your parents and your little sister fast asleep.
You waited at the top of the stairs, until you heard the door of Rafe's bedroom shut, then you ran into your own room, locked the door behind you and crawled under the covers of your bed.
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You didn't tell anyone what had happened that night with Rafe in the car.
Of course, Sarah knew about the fight between Rafe and JJ, and the day after she asked you, if you were okay. She even asked you if she should come over. But you said, you were okay and she should stay at John B's, you might come over later too. Sarah liked that idea, she was totally excited about it. You were talking over the phone, no video, so you didn't have to fake a smile. But you liked just listening when she talked with you about John B and the pogues. Their treasure hunting, their fishing trips, how she was learning to surf. It was nice to hear that your stepsister was so happy. It made you forget your own situation for a while.
Truth was, you weren't quite sure what that situation was.
The next days you tried your best to avoid your stepbrother, which wasn't too hard. He seemed to be out or asleep most of the time. So you were able to spend some time with Wheezie, preferably outside the house, somewhere you'd know you wouldn't accidentally run into Rafe, like that ice-cream parlor or the waffle house that sold these literally gigantic waffles with pink marshmallows. You even went to the mainland to a funfair with your little stepsister. Wheezie didn't notice the bruises on your face. You did quite a good job covering them up with your make up.
Since your boyfriend was still away with his family, you spent the nights either watching movies with Wheezie, helping her make tiktoks, or just in your room, reading a book.
You closed the book you had been reading for the past hours. Yawning, you looked at your phone. It was almost 3 a.m. You needed to use the bathroom. You sat on the edge of the bed, hesitating. Usually you would go down the corridor to get to the bathroom Sarah and Wheezie were sharing. But it was the middle of the night and you didn't want Wheezie to wake up. Besides, Rafe hadn't come home that night, so he wouldn't hear you.
You left your room and went to the bathroom. Pushing open the unlocked door, you stepped inside and froze. The light was on and you should have taken your time and listened when you had been outside. The water of the rain shower was running. And Rafe was standing under the shower. His back to you. The water raining down on his body, his naked body. The open shower offered you a complete view. His hair was wet, sticking to his head. Drops of water gracing his broad shoulders. Trails of water running down his back, accentuating the contours of his well-defined muscles. Water running down his lower back, over the curves of his butt, down his legs. He shifted slightly, his legs parting just a bit. Your eyes darted up, and you saw how he turned his head, turned it towards you. And looked at you. Water drops caught in his lashes, as he gazed at you. And his body moved and he was about to turn around completely, when you finally woke up from your frozen state and swiftly turned around and left the bathroom as fast as you could.
When you were inside your room, you were shaking. Your back pressed against the back of your door. You were panting, so loudly, it was embarrassing. You covered your mouth with both your hands. Your legs felt weak, like they would give in, but at the same time you felt something else, a very different, very unknown sensation. Something that had started as a tickling sensation and was now a throbbing, between your legs. You pressed them as closely together as you could. But it wouldn't stop. All your previous sleepiness gone, it seemed like all your senses were fully awake and heightened.
You heard a door open and close. You tried to focus and listen, between the sounds of your own rapid heartbeat. You heard footsteps on the corridor. Slow and heavy. They came closer and stopped. In front of your door. Right behind you. You pressed the palm of one of your hands against the wood. And you stopped breathing. Your mind racing. Trying to remember if you had locked your door.
It was still, completely still apart from your own heavy breathing, muffled by your own hand.
Then you heard footsteps again and another door, open and close.
And you still couldn't move.
When you finally made it to your bed, after checking if you indeed had locked your door, you didn't find real sleep for the rest of the night. Again and again you woke up, hearing the dripping sound of water or raspy breathing close to your ear.
You must have fallen asleep at some point, because when you opened your eyes next, the sun was shining right into your face and it was almost noon. You groaned as you turned in your bed. It was unusual for you to get up this late. You got dressed, wearing a sweater and your jeans shorts. It was most probably too hot outside for wearing a sweater, but with the air conditioning working, it was a bit chilly inside.
You went to the kitchen to get some coffee and something to eat to finally start the day. On your way downstairs, you heard Wheezie's and your mother's voice from another room. You figured that at this time of the day, the kitchen would be empty. Except it wasn't.
You stopped in the doorway when you saw Rafe. His back turned towards you, wearing a loose t-shirt and grey sweatpants, Rafe was standing at the coffeemaker.
Involuntarily, you let out a gasp, which he must have heard, because his head turned around. His eyes met yours. Just for a brief moment, then he turned his attention back to the machine in front of him. He didn't say anything, but you could have sworn that you saw a tiny smirk curling up the corners of his lips.
You took a deep breath. Something inside you told you to just go and run upstairs, lock yourself in your room. But your feet started moving and you walked to the fridge. It didn't seem as if Rafe even cared that you were in the same room with him. So you supposed that he had resumed his usual stance of just ignoring you. Besides, you still heard your sister's voice from the living room close by. Even Rafe wouldn't dare to do anything with his family, with his little sister so close by.
You went about grabbing something to eat and making yourself a coffee, while Rafe was doing the same quietly. You didn't look at him, just heard him move about and saw his frame from the corner of your eyes.
Your hands rested on the edge of the counter, fingers curling, your weight shifted to one foot, the other foot rubbed over your calf, feeling the warm woolen fabric of the sock, you were deeply in thought, while waiting for the coffeemaker to finish the program for your cappuccino.
“You're done with the staring?”
That dark voice directly behind you made you flinch and you lost your balance, tipping to the side, you almost fell – if it hadn't been for a strong hand catching you. And even when you were standing securely on both feet again, that hand didn't let go off your waist.
You felt your chest widen with the deep breath you took.
Rafe's body was so close to yours, you could feel the heat radiating from it. You could feel his muscles move as he leaned down to you, his chest pressing against your back.
“So, did you like what you saw? Last night? You left in such a rush. What were you doing in your room? Lying in your bed, thinking about my cock, touching yourself?” His lips grazed your ear as he whispered those words that made you involuntarily shiver, despite the heat you felt under your sweater.
You turned your head to look at him, when you felt something poking at your back.
Your lips parted and you felt them quiver as his face moved closer. His breath caressing your face, his eyes holding yours as his lips hovered over your mouth. Your breathing hitched as you felt his other hand move up to reach for your face.
“Finally you're up!” Wheezie's voice made you gasp. You felt pure heat rushing to your head.
Rafe’s hand – a second ago almost brushing your cheekbone – reached up to the cupboard above your head, taking out a glass. He walked to the fridge to take out the orange juice and pour some into the glass.
You grabbed the mug from under the coffeemaker, turned around and lifted it to your lips even though the contents were still too hot to drink. Your sleeves covered your wrists and you held the mug with both your hands, holding onto it like a lifeline. You nodded at Wheezie and tried to offer her a smile while your whole body was trembling.
Rafe had downed the orange juice and was pouring himself another glass, when Wheezie came over, snatched that newly filled glass from his hands and turned towards you while taking a sip.
“I needed your help with that tiktok,” she said and her accusing tone made you feel guilty, even though you couldn't remember having promised her to help her.
“I'm sorry,” you muttered. “We can do it now?” You offered.
Wheezie exhaled dramatically.
“Now is too late. We're about to leave.” Wheezie looked at you with her dark eyes, pouting. “But you could come and we can make it on the ferry,” she asked sweetly all of a sudden and took another sip from the orange juice.
Rafe, obviously having decided that he was still thirsty, had stepped closer and took out another glass from the kitchen cupboard above your head. His arm brushing your hair as he did so. And you felt goosebumps crawling over your skin, spreading on your neck.
Your eyes darted up and you noticed that Rafe's eyes traveled to your neck, and that look felt more intense than any touch and caused another shiver.
“You cold? Are you sick? Is that why you slept in?” Wheezie sounded seriously concerned now.
That shiver must have been visible. You cursed your own body for reacting so intensely and so weirdly to your stepbrother's presence.
“No, no, don't worry, Wheezie. I'm fine. I just spent the whole night reading.”
You heard a scoff coming from Rafe, but didn't look.
“Oh, that book with the dragons? You need to tell me all about it!”
“I will,” you smiled, and it was a real smile. You loved your little sister's enthusiasm.
“But not today. Denny is coming back from his family trip and we're meeting this afternoon.”
Wheezie's lips formed a disappointed ‘O', but then she nodded and took more sips from her glass.
“You're spending a lot of time with that boy lately,” Ward had entered the kitchen, and he offered you a warm smile. “You should invite him over for dinner, so we can officially meet.”
“Oh, my god, dad. You sound like a total patriarch,” Wheezie rolled her eyes.
“I do? Now the patriarch tells you to get in the car, Wheezie, we're already late,” Ward tilted his head and looked at his youngest daughter with warmth in his eyes.
Wheezie rolled her eyes again, muttered an annoyed “Fine,” put her glass down on the counter next to you, hugged you as if she was about to leave for months. When she let go, she turned towards her brother standing by the fridge.
“Bye, Rafe. Thanks for the juice,” she said, twirled around and literally danced out of the kitchen, as Rafe mumbled his reply.
You noticed how his stance had changed completely, his shoulders were drawn up, he was looking down. He seemed more tense ever since his father had come into the kitchen.
“If you don't find it too patriarchy of me, I’d like to get to know the boy that my daughter spends so much time with.”
“No, of course, that would be nice. I’ll ask him,” you quickly replied and smiled at your stepfather. You couldn't deny it, it always made you feel sort of happy when Ward casually called you his daughter, making no difference between you and his biological daughters.
“Now that's settled then,” he said. “Enjoy your date.”
“Thanks,” you took a sip from your cappuccino, which was now cool enough to drink.
Ward gave you another smile, before turning his attention toward his son.
“I asked you to drop off the crates at the site by 2.”
“I – I will. I'm on it,” Rafe gazed at his father who frowned at him.
“That's what you always say.”
“But I will.”
“It's a simple task, Rafe. If you can't even do that –“
“No, I said I will!” Rafe straightened up, took a step closer to his father, his body tensing up, you noticed.
“Honey? We need to get going,” your mother looked through the kitchen door.
“You have a nice day with Denny, sweetheart,” she addressed you, before just frowning at Rafe and leaving.
Before Ward also left, he smiled at you again – this time, the smile was a bit strained, you noticed.
He shot a less than friendly look at his son.
“For a change, just don't disappoint me again.”
When your parents had left, you remained in the kitchen and there was a strange silence.
You looked at Rafe, he was biting his nails.
“You okay?” Your voice soft, full of real concern.
He turned his face towards you, glared at you.
“Shut up!” You flinched as he yelled at you and then stormed out of the kitchen.
You let out a shaky breath after he had left. You weren't hungry anymore, so you just emptied the remains of your cappuccino into the sink and went upstairs.
Wrapped in a towel after taking a long hot shower in your sisters' bathroom, you returned to your room, only to find Rafe standing at your bed, looking at the clothes you had picked out to wear.
He held up the top you had put on the bed.
“You gonna wear that to your date?” He tilted his head, looking at you, his eyes slightly narrowed.
“Give that back,” you tried to snatch it from his hand, but Rafe's reflexes were better and he held it up, out of reach. Still you tried to get a hold of it, reaching up with one arm, while you held the towel close to your chest with your other hand, feeling it loosen from the quick movement.
Rafe looked down at you, just with his eyes, and there was a glint in them, and the corners of his mouth curled up into a smirk.
You frowned and held both your arms now in front of your chest, clutching the towel.
The tip of his tongue flicked out and wetted his lips. As if it was some reflex, you bit your own lips, and he chuckled in response. You only now realized that his body was so close to yours that you felt that vibration in your own body.
“You want to seduce him? Want him to fuck you?”
“Why are you so –” You looked up at his face and tried to step back when you felt the edge of the bed hitting the back of your legs and stopping your movement.
“So what?” He bowed his head down and his piercing blue eyes stared at you.
“Mean,” you said.
“You like it, don't you?” He tilted his head to the side and that grin on his lips changed.
“No,” you said quickly and as firmly as you managed to.
“No what?” He mocked you.
You looked at him, your brows furrowed. Still holding the towel with both hands, you tried to push at his chest with your elbow to get some distance between you two.
“I like you better when you're not mean,” you said, no longer looking up, but your eyes on his chest that you were trying to push away.
“That so?” His voice was lower than before and you lifted your gaze to see his eyebrows raised. “Like when?”
“Like when you were nice.”
"What is nice, hm?”
You felt a heat crawling under your skin and lowered your gaze.
His fingers under your chin tilted up your head, made you look at him again. His thumb brushed along your bottom lip.
“This nice?” His voice a raspy whisper.
The sudden softness of his touch made you shiver.
Your lips parted and you drew in a sharp breath as he leaned down.
“This?” His voice so low, you could hardly hear it, but feel it so intensely, as his lips moved close to yours. And you could taste his breath, taste the coffee and the orange juice and him.
You held your breath and his lips grazed the corner of your mouth. You closed your eyes. Exhaling through your mouth, you felt that trembling growing. Your legs suddenly unsteady. But you didn't fall. His arm wrapped around you and held you close to his body as he slowly lowered you on the bed.
His lips were so incredibly soft as they covered your face with tender kisses. His body was hovering over yours as you lay on your back. You felt its warmth, but not its weight.
His hand touched your face, his long fingers caressed your neck, brushed over your shoulders, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your heated skin. His mouth traveled over your cheekbone to your ear. His breath made you gasp and whimper as the tip of his nose touched that spot you didn't know was so sensitive. Slowly and without any resistance from you, he uncurled your fingers that were wrapped around the towel. He guided one of your hands to his shoulder, and your fingers, like they had their own will, grasped at it, held onto him, as your body arched and a moan escaped your lips when his mouth found the sensitive skin on your neck. His big hand cupped your now exposed breast, kneading it, fumbling it, no longer touching softly. His knee pushed between your legs, parting them. And you felt the pressure at your core as your hips rose to meet him.
Your breathing, slow and loud, was all that could be heard in the room. And then the soft sucking sounds of his lips on your neck, leaving a mark.
Both your hands were on him now. The one hand at his shoulder, grabbing so hard, it was shaking. Your other hand touching his back. The lightest pull from you and he rocked his hips against yours, making you gasp and open your eyes in surprise as you felt his hard length urging against your thigh. Being completely inexperienced, you couldn't quite judge whether it was normal that it was so huge. And your mind was cloudy with all those unknown sensations that you were unable to tell whether this was right when you felt his fingers rub along your folds, when they parted them and pushed inside you.
You tensed up, cried out, as you clenched around the intruding digit. Your hands no longer pulling Rafe closer but trying to push him up, like pushing at an unmovable rock.
You whined as his finger pushed deeper, your face turning to the side, away from him as a tear ran down your cheek. He let out a hissing sound, his mouth close to your neck. His finger remained inside of you but stopped moving further. You already felt so incredibly full. His lips started moving over your skin. He kissed your chin, kissed your cheek, licked at your tears.
“No,” your voice a hoarse whisper, your hand balled into a fist, pressing at his shoulder uselessly, in vain trying to push him off you.
“No,” you said again and that word turned into a moan as you felt something pressing against your most sensitive spot. His thumb rubbed your pearl and your traitorous body reacted by shivering. And your legs parted further. He moved them up, made them bent, giving him room. His finger curled inside you. Your body convulsed. You opened your eyes, but you couldn't see anything clear. You felt your body heating up, sweat covering it. Your hands clutching at Rafe's shirt as you made those noises that didn't sound like coming from you. But they came from you. From something deep inside you. Something Rafe had just started to awake. You bit your lips to make those sounds stop as you felt that throbbing at your core with Rafe's fingers caressing, pushing, rubbing, pinching, curling, thrusting.
His other hand gripped your chin, turned your head and you looked up at him, just for a second, before his lips met yours and he claimed your mouth in a kiss that was nothing like the one you remembered from all those years ago, that tender kiss. This kiss was hungry and fierce, and intoxicating. Your mouth opened for his tongue. He claimed it. And when it pushed inside you, it felt like it was your own hunger. You felt like you were starving as he was devouring you.
Wide-eyed, your face burning with heat, your body aching with an unknown need, you gazed up at him when he broke the kiss, lifting his body, no longer touching you. But you still felt him, felt him on you, felt him inside of you, tasted him in your mouth. He had let go off you for a moment to take off his shirt and his sweatpants.
He was completely naked when he hovered above you, resting on his hands pressed into mattress on either side of you. The muscles in his arms tense and hard. Everything about him was hard. Solid like a rock. He was kneeling between your legs. Your body shaking, shivering as if you were cold when you felt that sweat covering it and that wetness between your legs. You were so much the opposite of him, in every way. You felt it so much at that moment when he just looked down at you. Something in his eyes so harsh that it made you shudder and close your eyes. You shook your head and stopped when his hand touched your face and held it. You opened your eyes. His face only inches away from yours.
“I'm gonna be gentle, alright? I'm gonna be nice.” His lips brushed yours in a tender kiss and your body arched up, despite your hands being balled up into fists and your arms pressed close to your chest as if you were trying to shield yourself.
You felt a movement, felt the bed tilt. And when you opened your eyes, you saw him kneeling in front of you, touching his hard cock, pumping it.
You gasped at the sight. It was even bigger than you had thought from what you had felt earlier. It was too big.
“Just the tip, alright? I won't push it all in. I know you're too delicate,” he said as if he had read your mind – or just saw the fear in your eyes.
He leaned down to kiss you and whisper at your lips.
“Just the tip, I promise. You will like it.”
As if proving his point, your hips moved up on their own and a hot shiver made you moan as his fingers touched your needy core. A smile appeared on his face, not quite a smirk, but you weren't sure anymore what you saw, what you felt, what you wanted. All reason was clouded and still, you knew that this was wrong.
You closed your eyes as he lifted one of your legs.
“Look at me,” his voice dark and so low, you felt a tingling at the back of your neck.
You obeyed and opened your eyes. Your arms were still pressed against your heaving chest, but it was easy for him to move them and place your hands on his shoulders as he lowered himself onto you.
“Look at me,” he said again and your eyes were fixed on his face, watching his features, seeing that little smile, that glint in his eyes, seeing his mouth open, and his face contort the moment his tip parted your folds. At first it felt slick and smooth and then suddenly so painfully rough. The thick tip was stretching you unbearably wide. Your legs automatically pressed against his body, desperately trying to close and shut out the intruder. He pushed them apart and you screamed, screamed out loud at the top of your lungs as he pushed inside you. Too deep, too hard, too rough, too fast.
Waves and waves of stinging pain rushing threw your body, making it convulse and shake, making you whimper and whine, you felt like you were being torn apart. You pushed at his shoulders, pressed at his chest, but his hips kept moving, rocking hard against you. Urging his hard length into you.
“So good,” he muttered between strained breaths. “So tight,” he panted. “All mine,” he growled.
His movements so rough and relentless, he seemed lost in his own pleasure. His eyes fixed on you, but not really seeing you, he seemed like he had forgotten all about you, your part in this, your existence.
“Rafe!” You screamed his name, screamed it at his face, screamed it so loud, your throat hurt.
His eyes flickered and he looked at you, really looked at you. And something changed in his features. For the briefest of moments, he paused, leaned down to kiss your lips, whispering something you didn't understand. And then you felt his fingertip touching that spot his thumb had teased before. Only now it wasn't teasing any longer. You didn't know how or why he knew exactly what to do, but that touch, that movement with his fingertip was all your body needed, all it craved for that moment. Your mouth opened wide as you moaned, then just gasped. The back of your head pressing into the mattress, your eyes rolling back. Your fingernails digging into Rafe's tense muscles at his back, as you were pulling him closer, ever closer, when that pain all of a sudden turned into pleasure, a painful, hot pleasure that left you in a state of rapture. Your body bending, trembling, shaking, as Rafe fucked you through your first ever orgasm.
You heard him groan, an animalistic sound. You felt your walls tensing up in waves and clenching so hard around him, making his thrusts only more ruthless, more forceful, as he took you, took all of you. And as the rush of your fierce high faded, you felt him so intensely. Felt him pushing inside you, filling you, feeling you, breathing on you, touching you, holding you, kissing you – it was like he was melting into you, when all of a sudden he stopped his movements, gazed down at you with hazy eyes, his features tensing up for a moment, and the next, the absolute opposite: all soft and lovingly, so sweet. He lowered his body onto yours and you felt his heavy panting syncing with yours. He kissed your face, breathless. Kissed your lips and after pushing into you a few more times, he pulled out and rolled his body off yours.
You kept lying on your back, next to him. Your legs still apart, knees bent. And you felt the cool breeze from the air-conditioning on your heated body, covered in a film of sweat, yours and his. And between your legs, you felt another kind of throbbing. And something sticky dripping out of you. You shut your legs and winced, rolling on your side, you turned away from him. It was as if reality hit you hard, and despite the fact that you still hadn't composed your breathing, despite the fact that your body wanted to remain in that blissful state, you felt a sudden wave of shame and guilt and something else that hurt even more, even deeper than the burning pain at your core.
At the touch of his hand, you flinched. You didn't want to, but your body curled up and you moved away from him, when in fact, you wanted nothing more than for him to hold you, to tell you that it was alright. That everything was exactly how it should be. That you were safe. With him.
Instead, you felt the bed tilt and you heard him get up and put on his clothes.
You moved your head so you could look up at him, look at him through teary eyes.
He stood in front of the bed, looking down at you. For a moment he seemed to hesitate, as if he wanted to lie down again. Then his features hardened. A frown appeared on his brow. His hands balled into fists, his jaws clenched.
“Now you can lie about that too. When your boyfriend fucks you tonight, you can lie and say it is you first time.” His voice so cold, so hard, it took the air out of your lungs.
And you only exhaled when he had left your room and the door shut behind him and you cried and sobbed and wept.
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a/n: this was kinda intense. Much darker than my recent fics. And so long. But I didn't want to rush it. I needed to write it as it is. I still hope you liked reading it. Reblogs, comments and likes are very much appreciated. btw, it's my birthday today.
xx
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toruro · 1 year
Text
— ✧ mr. nice guy
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pairing. hong joshua x reader
description. you thought your next-door neighbor was just being polite when he offered to help you carry in your boxes the first time you saw him, but as you adjust to your new home, you start to notice that joshua’s nice in other ways too: nice eyes, nice smile, nice arms, nice fingers, probably nice di—okay you get the point. but just how long can you go with lusting after your neighbor before giving in to your very much not-nice desires? well, lucky for you, joshua also isn’t nearly as much of a gentleman as he likes to let on.
✘ tags. smut (18+), neighbor!joshua, joshua's muscles deserve their own tag tbh, oral (f receiving), alcohol consumption (NOT drunk sex), petnames (sweetheart mostly :pp), biting, spit kink, unedited as always ✘ w/c. 5.3k ✘ a/n. i have had this idea in me for a WHILE so it's good to finally get it out! honestly i feel like the story is a little rushed but whatever
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there's a gentle voice coming from in front of you, but with the way you’re holding the large box up right in front of your face, you can’t see who’s speaking. “do you need help with that?”
muscles straining and sweat beading down your skin, you manage to squeak out a quick, “yes please!” a wave of relief washing over your body as you feel the box grow infinitely lighter as this man’s arms wrap around the side. “thank you so much,” you say, still gripping onto the box as you slowly walk over and lead it to the front of your apartment door a few feet away. setting it down carefully, you look up so you can finally see the face of the angel who saved you so much trouble.
“no problem," he replies politely, and as your eyes flicker up, you're taken aback by his kind smile. "you new here?"
"did the moving boxes give it away?" you joke and the man cracks a hearty laugh.
"you got me there. i'm joshua," he tells you, and you think to yourself that there can't be a name for fitting for the man. he points over to the door across from yours. "i live right there, so i guess we'll be seeing each other a lot. what's your name?"
your name falls from your lips in a haze, internally thanking your lucky stars for finding yourself an apartment that was not only close to your work but also in close proximity someone as nice as joshua. "i guess so," you reply looking down the hallway where the movers had left the rest of your boxes. "i don't suppose you'd be down for another few boxes?" you ask hopefully, wincing at the way you're so shamelessly asking for help.
joshua chuckles at your expression and you feel that the ground might as well swallow you up whole. "it'd be my pleasure. it's not often i get new neighbors who are under the age of 50."
"i've noticed that...is there a reason the average age of the residents of place is like 60?" you ask curiously as you walk down to the end of the hallway to the boxes.
"not sure," joshua says. "i guess this place is just popular with them. not that i'm complaining. noisy neighbors are never a problem for me." he gives you an awry look, and you're a bit confused before he's jokes, "unless you plan on making that something i have to worry about now."
"no!" you reply a little too quickly, flustered by the way joshua is so easily coming up with conversation. it seems as if he's so smooth with everything, and with the way you have a million thoughts racing through your head—it's a it hard to keep up. "i mean, i don't do much or anything really," you clarify, reaching down to pick up one box while joshua goes to grab the other side.
"good to know," joshua tells you with a smile, and you try not to focus too much on the way that he grunts slightly when lifting up his end. "you're always welcome to come over to my place for a drink or something," he suggests as you begin walking over to your apartment.
smiling as you set down the box, you adjust your shirt and look up at him. "i'll think about it."
you, in fact, do think about joshua's offer. you think about it a lot.
you think about it that night when you carefully unpack your boxes. joshua's a nice guy, you think to yourself, because it's not often you come across such a person who's willing to give you an hour of their day to help carry heavy ass boxes for someone they barely know.
you think about it two mornings later when you're walking down the hallway with your groceries for the week only to find joshua about to enter his own apartment, clad in a tight fit t-shirt and gym shorts. his skin glows with layer of sheen sweat, his light brown hair pressing against his forehead in an oddly fitting mess. his breath is slightly labored when you call out his name instinctively, turning to look at you with bright eyes.
"hey, how's it going?" he's polite. joshua is polite, and a gentleman. you almost feel guilty when your eyes dart to the arms when the muscles flex as he brings up a hand to grab one of your grocery bags, insisting that it was his pleasure to help you out. something along the lines of, "i just got back from my work out and i can't help a pretty lady with her bags?"
pretty lady. you hope he can attribute your burning cheeks to the hot sun and not his words, because holy shit does he have your stomach doing tumbles. after all, joshua's just being polite right? right?
you think about his offer again three evenings later. you're just leaving your apartment to go on a walk, and joshua seems to have some people over, five boys knocking on his front door, where there seems to be more boys on the other side. you quickly glance at each other as you slip out of your apartment, hoping to hobble off quickly before things get more awkward, but then there's that door opening and you hear joshua's voice and you falter in your tracks for a moment at the way he calls you name so smoothly.
you turn around to face him as his friends slowly shuffle into his apartment, joshua leaning against the doorframe with a bottle of beer. he holds it up and raises a brow and fuck—if you don't stare at the way the bottle is perched between his perfect, thick fingers—fuck. "you wanna join?"
you want to. fuck, you really want to. so why do the words, the simple phrase of, "yeah sure," fall flat on your tongue? maybe it comes from the embarrassment of lusting over a man you hardly know. from the humiliation of letting your eyes dart towards his arms, his hands, his fingers, joshua's collarbone and the little adam's apple that bobs up when he takes a sip of his beer.
"i, uh, i was just going on a walk right now," you tell him, your voice sounding meek and you want to cringe at the poorly planned response. joshua chuckles, and you aren't sure why.
"you don't wanna come? aw, you're hurting my feelings," he coos.
"no! that's not what i meant," you say quickly, averting your gaze from joshua because the way he's peering down at you right now—god, you don't know if you want to go up to him and fall straight to your knees and suck him off or turn around and run away out of pure humiliation. "i just—you know—walks. go on them every day," you try to explain haphazardly.
"no it's okay, i get it," he replies before looking into his apartment when one of his friends yells out his name, "it's bit rowdy in here anyways, so i don't blame you." there's an awkward sort of silence that settles between you and the air is thick as you debate if you should turn around and leave right about now. "i don't suppose you'd want to stop by after your walk?" he asks hopefully, and you figure this is his way of giving you a second chance.
this time, you look up at him and smile. "i'll think about it."
except this time you actually think about, not just sit and wonder of the possibilities. as you pace down the street, your one hour walk that usually make time fly now seems to feel like the longest sixty minutes of your life. you come down to two possibilities at the end of it:
1. you don't show up and joshua thinks you're an indecisive bitch
2. you do show up, have a good time, and things are left at that
of course, putting it like that only really leaves you with one choice to choose, that being the latter. knowing that your own conscience won't let you live it down if you don't end up choosing the latter, you march up to joshua's apartment with a slowly diminishing confidence. yeah, you're eager to see where this night will take you, but you're also not necessarily confident that you're anxiousness won't betray you.
it's just that joshua is so nice and so kind and he has you thinking so many thoughts that your words always seem to jumble up into an incoherent mess whenever he speaks to you. all you can really ever think about when you see him is—well—all of him, which includes his nice smile, his nice muscles, his nice—okay, shit, you really need to control yourself.
doing what little mind-clearing exercises you can cram into the time it takes you to get up to your floor, you're pretty sure your breath is labored from how hard you're thinking alone. before you have any time to let yourself back out of this, you're rushing up to joshua's door, knocking maybe a little too desperately.
in the next moment, you have time to listen in on the other side, the room being quieter than you remember it being an hour ago. all that can be heard is some soft shuffling that can only be identified as joshua's footsteps, and before you know the door is opening, the one and only standing in front of you.
"there she is," joshua greets with a smile, "low and behold!"
the tips of your ears burn at his welcoming, stepping back a little. "h-hi," you murmur quickly, the responses that you planned in your head earlier seemingly fading away in your mind. "is that offer for a drink still on the table?" you ask hopefully, chewing on your bottom lip as you wait for an answer.
"'course it is," he replies. "i was waiting for you to come to your senses," he continues, stepping to the side so you can slip off your shoes and step in, realizing now that all his friends have left leaving only you two. you follow in after him, your eyes glazing over his apartment. it's got the same layout as yours, as expected, only it's mirrored. it's slightly messy, presumably from the mess his friends left from before, but the set up is neat and you can tell joshua has a good eye for color.
"i like those paintings up on the wall," you comment, pointing at a set of wall art hung above his sofa. joshua looks up at it before smiling softly and nodding, walking to the kitchen as you trail behind him.
"thank you, one of my friends that was here earlier got it for me. he's great at interior design, if you're ever looking for someone," he tells you, reaching for the fridge and pulling out a cool bottle of beer. "here," he says, handing it to you before grabbing a bottle opener and popping off the cap for you. holding it out in front of you, you're able to watch his hands up close—they're big and veiny and fuck, you'd be lying if you said you didn't press your thighs together slightly.
you aren't sure joshua notices, and if he does, he doesn't make it obvious. "thank you," you murmur softly, letting him step back and put the opener away before he leads you to the living room. you settle down on one end of the couch, and instead of opting to sit on the arm chair, joshua just sits on the opposite end. throwing his hands back so they lean on the arm rest and the back of the couch, his biceps are stretched out and on display thanks to his short sleeve t-shirt.
"so," joshua begins as he grabs his own beer and brings it up to his lips, "how do you like it here?"
you take your own sip of the cool liquid before responding, "it's hardly been a week...but i like it. it's peaceful, and i like the neighborhood."
"yeah, the people are nice," joshua agrees. you're nice, you think. "how was moving in?"
"i'm still honestly unpacking," you chuckle to yourself, feeling more comfortable now that there's casual conversation being initiated. "i have a bunch of clothes at my friend's place that i still need to pick up," you explain, leaning back into the plush cushions.
"you need help bringing them in? i can lend a hand if you need."
your stomach tumbles at his generosity, but you shake your head. "ah, you've already helped me so much, i don't think that's fair."
"oh c'mon," joshua counters, "you can pay me back with something if that'll make you feel better."
you raise a brow. "now how would i do that? you got venmo?" you tease.
"i was thinking of something a little less materialistic," joshua replies with a roll of his eyes, and you think you might just combust on the spot.
you aren't exactly sure what he means by that until you bring your eyes to meet his and that's when you see it. how his eyes darken, how he gulps even though he hasn't taken a sip of his drink, how he shifts in his seat. suddenly, you're dawned with the realization that on your walk, you left out the option for a third possibility, a.k.a. you do show up, have a good time, and then have joshua rail you into the next dimension.
gaining confidence, you cross your legs over each other and turn to face him better, deciding to go along. "huh..." your voice trails off. "i'm not quite sure what you mean by that joshua," and you swear you hear his breath hitch when you say his name.
he regains composure so quickly it's hard to tell you even threw him off guard in the first place. "i'm not really sure actually. you have anything to offer?"
you shrug as you set down your beer at the coffee table by your feet. "i make a mean maple cake, if you're into sweet stuff." joshua perks up at that.
"i do have a sweet tooth," he mumbles to himself, pretending to be in thought as he follows your movements, pushing his bottle to the side. "that's gonna take a while though," he says solemnly, "you're gonna have to get the ingredients...make the cake...bring it to me...sounds like a lot of work for you..." his voice trails off, and then he's tossing you that look again.
joshua figures you're both definitely on the same page by now and there's no point leaving the tension between his go unrelieved for any longer than he has to, and before you know it he's reaching one strong arm over to grab your wrist, pulling you into his hold so he can kiss you fiercely.
his lips are soft, but the way he's pushing against you, sucking, nipping, running his tongue along you is all but gentle. with joshua's arms leaving your hands and instead running up the sides of your waist, pulling you in roughly, you gasp into his mouth, allowing him the chance to slip his tongue against yours, tasting you, feeling you, being one with you.
one hand comes up to cup the side of your face, tilting your head slightly so he can push his lips against yours harder, his tongue sinking deeper to explore the caverns of your mouth. when he pulls away, you both share heaving breaths of air, mouths connected with a string of saliva before he's leaning back in and capturing you once more.
his other hand on your waist gently nudges you and you're falling back onto the cushions, head hitting one of the pillows as he crawls into the space between your legs. inching up his knee until his thick thigh is pressing up against your pounding core, easing the tension that he's been so carefully building up.
joshua noticed it. the way your eyes lingered on his arms, his fingers—noticed the sparkle in your eyes followed by the immediate embarrassment of your own thoughts. he's not sure if you're just easy to read or if he's just good at reading you but whatever it is, you're an open book to him and fuck it's so cute it has him going crazy.
you whine against his lips, rocking into him to the best of you abilities while you're pinned beneath him. there isn't much space to move around in the little corner of this couch, but you hardly pay mind to the inconvenience when joshua peels his lips and thigh away from you. "ha—no," you gasp out, hips chasing the relief the hard muscle provided. joshua chuckles, shaking his head as you pout.
"relax baby," he coos, and the pet name has you shivering under his touch as he inches his body down the length of the couch until his upper body rests between your thighs, face dangerously close to your gaping cunt. "be patient, okay?" he orders, and you nod your head quickly in agreement. joshua traces his fingers from your knees achingly slow up to the hem of your denim shorts, slipping under the cloth only slightly, leaving you nearly begging for more.
"josh—shua—fuck, more, please?" you choke out, voice broken from pure desperation. joshua clicks his tongue at you, flashing a warning look which shuts your lips real tight as he reaches up to unbutton the shorts. you quickly reach down, helping him out, but he swats your hands away.
"can you keep your hands up for me sweetheart?" he asks so fucking sweetly you almost forget about the mischievous glint that flashes in his eyes.
"uh-huh," you mumble, slowly lifting your hands above your head, gripping onto the armrest of the couch to brace yourself. in the meantime, joshua unzips and yanks your shorts off, tossing them to the side so they fall somewhere in the room. staring down at your now exposed and soiled panties, you hear joshua suck in a breath.
"all this for me sweetheart?" he murmurs, bring two fingers up to lightly pinch your clit, causing you to jerk against his hold.
"all for you," you affirm nearly immediately, squirming when he takes one finger and tuns it down the midline of the fabric. joshua's eyes are gaping down at your core, nearly in the shape of hearts as his mind races with the idea of how you're already so undone, so desperate, so far gone for him. slowly but surely, he hooks one finger on each side of the waist band, peeling your panties off and exposing your dripping folds.
joshua nearly groans at the site of you clenching around nothing, saying, "fuck baby, you're gonna soak my couch."
"s-sorry," you stutter out, averting your gaze so you don't have the chance to look at the mess you've made.
"don't apologize...it's hot as hell." he pauses, then looks up at you. "you mind if i get a taste?"
"god, fuck yes—i mean no—wait," you babble, "i mean—shit—i don't mind, not at all."
joshua's heart swells at your response, waisting no time dipping his head between your thighs and pressing his tongue flat against your folds. you cry out at the warmth and friction, instinctively shooting one hand down to grab at his hair. within seconds, he's pulling his head back and giving you a stern look. "what'd i say sweetheart?"
"hands, sorry." you quickly pull your fingers back and return them to their hold on the couch.
"there you go sweetheart," joshua mumbles before diving back in, wrapping his arms under and around your thighs to hold you in your place. you can nearly feel his muscles bulge against your leg and you twitch against his mouth at the thought. meanwhile, joshua runs his tongue up and down, going and back and forth between hardening at and circling it around your hole before moving up and wrapping his lips around your clit and flicking his tongue over it.
the erratic, unpredictable movements have your back arching off the couch within minutes, moaning out words like, "feels so good joshua," along with quite curses as you attempt to keep your voice down. it hardly takes a few minutes before you're writhing under him, joshua pulling back with his lips and chin coated in a sticky wetness with a grin.
"you look so pretty baby," he compliments, using one hand to continue to rub between your folds and circle around your clit, never halting the shoots of pleasure through your spine. his eyes are flickering between yours and core, and then holy shit, his lips contort for a moment and then he's spitting on your already soaked pussy and the act is so demeaning and dirty and hot that you hardly comprehend the next words that come out of joshua's mouth. "so do you wanna cum now, or on my cock?" he offers, and you figure there's a right answer and a wrong one, but you don't have the brain capacity right now to think about which is which.
pouting, you respond, "c-can't i have both?"
that must be the right answer, because it has joshua beaming at you, smiling against your pussy as he slips two fingers into you and presses his mouth on your clit. jerking your hips up, joshua follows the swivel of your lower half, matching the thrusts and flicks of his wrist to your own movements so his fingers are hitting deeper and deeper every time. you think you're close, but when he's curling his digits inside of you and sucking hard on your nub you know it's coming.
you don't have time to warn joshua about your impending orgasm but the way your walls hug his fingers so fucking tight is warning enough, and he speeds up both his fingers and the flicking of his tongue to the point where you're on the brink of tears as he finger fucks you through your high. humming in appreciation at the way you call out his name as you do, he releases your clit with a filthy 'pop' sound, fingers taking a moment to gently slip out of you as you come down from your high.
"you did so good angel," joshua praises, pressing kisses along your inner thigh, smearing your skin in the mixture of your own cum and his saliva. your breaths are far too erratic for you to respond, but the way you look up at him with heavy eyelids through thick, glossy lashes tells joshua all he needs to know. unraveling his arms around you, he bring himself up and guides your legs to wrap around his bare torso—shit, wait, when did he take his shirt off.
gaping at this man who could quite literally be god, you can't even comprehend what's going on until you're being carried into a whole new room, joshua throwing you onto his bed, the messy covers bunching up around you. he stands at the edge, unbuckling his belt at a painfully slow rate. quickly scrambling up from your laying back position, you crawl to the spot in front of him and help unbutton his jeans. "already wanting more, huh?" he teases, but doesn't push you away, rather putting his hands to his side to watch you do the work yourself. you don't respond, taking this chance to grab both his jeans and boxers, pulling them down in one go.
joshua's cock springs out, thick and beaming with a bead of precum that dribbles off the tip, lightly hitting your face in the process. your mind is foggy and you look up at him with dreamy eyes as you absentmindedly open your mouth and close your lips around his bulbous tip, lapping at the precum. joshua doesn't hesitate to grab at your hair and pull you off of him, and for a moment you're scared you've done something wrong, getting pulled out of your haze.
but then you catch the way his voice drops an octave when he says, "slow down," and your worries are put at ease. "we can do that another time. wanna feel your cunt." another time. those words ring in your head. there's going to be another time. you ponder on that thought for a moment and then you recall the next of what he says and you look up at him with these doe eyes that joshua finds so fucking adorable, he'd be surprised if you don't see his dick twitching.
crawling onto the mattress, your limbs intertwine in a hot mess so that one of your legs is hooked around his torso while the other rests between his knees under him. it's a slightly awkward position, but the thought hardly crosses either of your minds once his fat tip his sliding between your drooling folds teasingly, before you're begging, "c'mon joshie, stick it in, please—need it now."
now joshua isn't one to usually give in—he's good at maintaining his patience. yet, the way you mumble out his nickname as if there isn't a single thought in your pretty head has his mind going numb, losing all semblance of self control until he can't help but sink his full length into you.
and joshua knows he's big, and looking down at how you nearly shake beneath him, it's confirmed that this is a lot for you. he almost feels bad at the way tears stream down your cheek, considering pulling out and pressing kisses along your face until you're ready to try again but then you're saying his name like that—"joshie, joshie, joshie"—and he just knows that neither of you would be satisfied until he's balls deep inside of you.
"takin'—god, fuck—takin' me like a pro, huh sweetheart?" joshua finally finds it in him to grunt out with out his voice wavering from the way you hug him so well.
"yeah-huh," you nod along, holding up your hand in a grabbing motion, joshua not hesitating to hold your hand in his so you can squeeze it tight while you work through the initial stretch. "you're so big, joshie."
"yeah," he breaths out a laugh. "you like it?" he groans, slipping out around halfway, giving you a chance to breathe, before he's shallowly thrusting back into you. "like me stretching out this pretty fucking pussy?" you nod dumbly, and your jaw gyrates as you try to form a response but no words come out, strangled syllables morphing into pornographic moans as joshua begins to drag his cock out further each time, plunging it deeper and deeper as he goes on.
"oh my god," you're finally able to babble, tits bouncing back and forth as joshua begins jamming his hips into yours with increasing force. the sounds of your wet pussy colliding with his cock bounce off the walls and if it isn't the filthiest thing you've ever heard, you don't know what is.
joshua latches one arm to your hip, the other continuing to hold yours as he pins it by your neck and shifting his body over you so his head hovers above yours. this new angle his his cock ramming hard down onto a spot that has you biting down onto your lips and crying out, "fuck, joshie!"
"you're squeezing me so tight," joshua moans as you rake one hand down his back. "suckin' me in, god i can't get enough, sweetheart," he grunts out, dropping his head down to bury it in the crook of your neck as he continues to pound into you. your body feels as if it's on fire in the best way possible, and with the way joshua is pressing open mouthed kisses onto your sticky skin has your hips lifting to meet his sharp strokes.
you feel as if things can't get any better and then you feel his teeth bite down into your flesh and your eyes roll to the fucking back of your head as the pain quickly shoots to pleasure when he sucks on the spot, the patch of skin throbbing—pulsing. "'m so close, joshie," you moan as he pullings away, looking down at your fucked out face. your eyes are droopy and shutting tight every time he fucks into you, mouth slightly agape and never fully closing.
he isn't sure what urges him to do it but then he's shoving three fingers into your mouth and joshua thinks that this might just be true love at the way you don't even hesitate a second to circle your lips against them and run your tongue against them. drool dribbles down your lips as you suck on his fingers and joshua's mind is consumed with the thought of your mouth doing that to his dick and then you moan around his fingers at the way he twitches inside of you and—fuck—he's getting close too, but he just can't allow himself to cum until you have.
slipping his fingers out, he uses the same, slick hand to toy at your clit as you clench around him tighter. "you said you're close?" he groans. "fuckin' cum then, cum around my cock how you wanted to, sweetheart."
it's the way he's gazing down at you endearingly. it's his fat cock pushing itself deeper inside of you, forcing you and your gummy walls to make room for me. it's the filthy words that spill from his lips, laced with his sweet words of praise. it's all of it that comes crashing down on you, the waves of pleasure hitting you over and over and over again until you're reduced to nothing but a thrashing, crying, whining mess with the words, "joshie, fuck," falling from your lips.
you're so lost in pleasure of your second orgasm of the day that you hardly notice it when joshua slips out of you himself, fervently jerking himself off until he moans out your name and there's thick white ropes of cum painting your stomach and clit 'til he's practically milked himself dry.
all the echos through the room now is the sound of your hiccups and joshua's gasps for air until he's finally falling on top of you, head resting on your chest.
"you are so not a gentleman," you gasp out between breaths as he slowly lifts himself off of you, rolling to your side once you unwind your leg from around his hips. he furrows his eyebrows at you with a frown.
"what do you mean?" he whines. "that's literally like my trademark."
"well change it," you grumble, running your fingers over the mark on your neck from where joshua bit you.
"i'm sorry," he murmurs, turning over to you to look at the bruise against your skin. "did i hurt you?" he asks, eyes wide with worry. you want to kick your feet at the way his concern has butterflies coursing through your veins as if this man didn't just rearrange your guts.
you push his face away when he leans down to pepper your neck with kisses, shuffling back onto you. you aren't sure how much longer your poor heart can handle this. "it's too late to be a gentleman now..."
"is it though?" joshua asks with a smirk, looking down at you.
"dunno...guess you just have to prove to me that you're worth the title."
"does this mean i get more chances?" joshua grins.
you roll your eyes. "maybe...it depends on what you have planned."
"well," joshua drawls out. "i'm thinking a nice date...then maybe you, me, my bed and—"
i guess you can tell where it goes from here.
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a/n. half the time i think i dont know how to end fics without some stupid dialouge bc wtf.... anyways if u enjoyed pls like and reblog!
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writtnbyhan · 6 months
Text
NFWMB.
PAIRING: bang chan x female!reader
TAGS: protective chan, idol!chan, non-idol!reader, established relationship.
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WORD COUNT: 1945
PROMPT: person a gets into a heated argument with someone. person b starts threatening them, so person a picks up person b and carries/drags them out of the room before anyone gets hurt.
warnings: what the prompt says, lol — arguments (not between chan and reader). very very minor violence (arm grabbed), bruising, swearing. Let me know if I missed a warning.
author's note: well, baby's first post. I really hope someone likes this ? my goal is to participate in nanowrimo in my own way so expect weekly posts from yours truly. I was nervous about what to write about bc of it being my first post but I needed to write something or I'd never do it. starting with chan feels right, though I wish I can get to write more fluff soon 😭 this was fun tho! I really like protective and possessive chan<3
You didn’t intend for him to hear. Mostly, because you thought you could handle things on your own, but also because you knew it would somehow end up like this.
You have been visiting the building where the boys work for as long as you remember being in their lives. It’s not your fault, given that they spend almost every waking moment there, working. And the one whose time was taken the most by it happened to be your boyfriend. It was a Saturday and he was working, which wasn’t uncommon, but it also wasn’t healthy. You let it slide sometimes, when you knew time was pressing on him and he needed to be there, for his own peace of mind. But everything was ready for the comeback, there was absolutely no reason for him to spend his weekend locked up in that so-familiar room.
So, you did the only logical thing: went there to drag him out, knowing only you where capable of doing so. No amount of puppy eyes from his kids could do what you could with just asking — you were his girlfriend, after all, it was expected that he’d have a soft spot for you.
You felt the problems creeping on you as soon as you stepped foot in the building. There were new people there, new workers. You hated when new staff started working, because they were still too nosy, and because they would ask too many question, some of which you wouldn’t be able to answer without one of the boys by your side to prove your credibility. It was okay, though, you could only imagine how many girls could go to the front desk and claim what was your truth — “I’m looking for my boyfriend”.
Luckily, the girl at the front desk, Sun Hee, already knew you. She only smiled at you when she saw you enter the building, and her tired smile should’ve been warning enough. You walked to her with a matching smile of your own, she knew you were there to pick up a overworking boyfriend, but you still needed to sign your name in the records.
“hi, lovely! what’s got you tired today?” you asked, curiosity so strong you couldn’t help asking.
“new staff’s first weekend. sometimes I wonder how they got hired in the first place”, she answers truthfully, sighing. She sends you a look you know it’s a warning — beware, idiots walking around feeling entitled!
You sigh, too. That’s going to be troublesome, especially today.
“hope I don’t get to met them today, at least until I find Chan. The boys didn’t warn me, or I would have brought one of them with me”
She showed a sympathetic smile, nodding.
“Prince charming is on studio 3, same as always”, she rolls her eyes playfully.
It says something about your overachieving boyfriend that not only the staff knows where he is all the time, but also that you have almost made friends with said staff. God, you needed to convince him to spend less time working.
After thaking Sun Hee and promising to chat more later, you walked to the elevator, setting to find Chan. You could amost picture him — black hoodie, black beanie hiding his messy curls, and headphones in. You smiled at the image in your head, a much too familiar one, one you loved so much.
Smile still present in your face, you stepped out of the elevator on the corresponding floor, checking different doors that had lights on. You were here to pick up Chan, yes, but you didn’t rule out finding Hyunjin or Felix overworking themselves too. The blondes were quick to follow their leader to the building any day, claiming they always “needed” the extra practice. Jeongin would be just as annoying as they were to you, if it wasn’t for his baby status, which meant everyone took a little more care of him (Minho more than anyone, checking that the boy didn’t overwork himself regularly).
Of course, checking every room as if you didn’t know where you were going to may have looked suspicious, you will give the man that. You were glad he was doing his job, just — well, maybe you were at the wrong place at the wrong time, or maybe he was.
“Excuse me, miss, who are you and where are you going?” He was at least 30 cm taller than you, and he was almost as buff as Changbin. You weren’t intimidated at first, you knew your presence had been cleared for, you had a right to be there, and you had got through the entrance desk, so he must know you were allowed there, right? Maybe he was just trying to help.
“Oh, hi! I’m Y/N. I’m looking for my boyfriend and checking to see if one of his friends is here as well”, you explained.
He stepped closer, almost invading your personal space. You took two steps back.
“Who are you looking for?”, he was eyeing you as if you were suspicious, a threat even. You, who was dressed in a skirt and probably looked like a mouse next to him.
“My boyfriend”, you repeated, “Christopher Bang Chan. He is in one of those studio rooms”, you added matter-of-factly.
“Ma’am, I’m going to have to escort you outside. You shouldn’t be here.” The man said, loudly, like he wanted to be heard. Ah, you thought, he is one of the new ones. It was common, you have seen it happen one too many times — new staff is always trying to prove themselves as good.
You smiled, though you were a little intimidated now. After all, you were alone in a hallway with the man who kept getting closer.
“Why is that? I am allowed here”, you tried to keep calm.
“Look, I don’t know how you passed the front desk, but fans should not be inside the building!”, the man yelled at you, his arm reaching out until he could take you by the wrist, his hold tight enough to bruise.
“Hey! You’re hurting me, stop it. Let me go!” You started struggling, trying to force your arm out of the man’s hold.
“Stop fighting or I’ll call security”, he threatened. You were about to tell him to do so, you’d wait by him until security came there and showed the man that your info was in the system and you were, actually, allowed there. You didn’t get a chance, though, for your boyfriend’s voice reached your ears as soon as the man stopped talking.
“You let her go or I’ll call security myself”, Chan’s voice showed his anger, and as he got closer you saw the determined look in his eyes that made you worry a little. You didn’t doubt Chan was capable of hitting the man if he didn’t let you go right now.
The man, apparently, didn’t notice that, for he did not let go of your wrist.
“I’m so sorry, sir, I’ll have her removed from the building immediately, I don’t know how she got inside.” He was tugging at your wrist, to which you kept quiet. If you expressed how much it hurt, the situation could escalate more than you wanted it to.
“She got inside because she’s allowed to. Now, I said: let her go.” Chan’s voice was ice cold, almost spitting the words at the man’s face. Finally, your arm was free, and you rushed to take your own wrist so as to cover the red marks, evidence of the strong hold the man had on you.
“Why doesn’t she have a pass, then?”
“She doesn’t need one because she’s not a guest. Did you even care to ask about that or check the system? You know, that type of irresponsible behaviour could get you fired — you can’t just go around the building threatening and grabbing people by force!” Chan’s voice got louder near the end.
“It’s okay”, you quipped, putting a hand in Chan’s chest as an attempt to calm him down. He was protective, you knew as much, but he was also a lovely person who you knew didn’t want to get anyone fired. Still, you knew he’d do something like that for you if you asked for it.
That was a wrong move, apparently, because it meant letting him see the marks on your arm.
“what the fuck?” his words were whispered, but it was obvious the anger that came with them. “Man, what is wrong with you? You should have checked before bruising her arm like that! What gives you the right to decide who is and isn’t allowed here?! That’s the front desk’s job, if she’s on the fucking third floor, then I think it’s fucking obvious she passed security. I need your name for I will have to file a complaint about this, grabbing someone like this is violent and no excuse of security can make it right because you are not supposed to even touch here — if you think she is not allowed here, you call security, you do not bruise my girlfriend’s arm.”
Chan’s voice is loud, and he is so close to the man you could tell it is some kind of threat, or maybe show of strenght. The man’s jaw was tense, as if he was ready to argue with the idol himself. You looked around the hallway, not knowing what to do or how to stop this. The man that had grabbed your arm clearly felt too entitled for his own good, and you worried that he might try to turn things physical.
Lucky for you, he didn’t even get a chance to answer before you heard a door open and close quickly, someone rushing out of one of the practice rooms.
You think you have never been happier of seeing the freckles in Felix’s face.
“Chan, everything okay?” sunshine boy asked, putting his arm around you as soon as he was close enough. His voice seemed to get Chan out of whatever state he was in, for he took a few steps back, still not breaking eye contact with the other man.
“Yeah, this dude just grabbed y/n’s arm and bruised her wrist because it’s apparently his first week here and he already feels too entitled.”
Felix looks at you, looking for something in your eyes, before getting closer to his friend.
“Okay, let’s go grab our things and go home to see if she needs to put some ice on her wrist”. He doesn’t let Chan answer before taking his hand with his smaller one, intertwining his fingers and almost dragging him out of there. You’re quick behind them, taking Chan’s other hand to give him some peace of mind.
Felix looks back at you and you smile in thanks. You know your boyfriend is way too protective, but a situation like this had never happened before. It’s good to know he’d do anything to defend you, but you still didn’t want him to get in a physical fight in his workplace.
“Don’t you dare think this gets any of you out of the hook for working on one of your free days, boys.” You reprimand them, hands still intertwined while entering the studio. Chan’s calmer now, his cheeks blushed with what you guess is something akin to embarrassement; you know he doesn’t like getting like this, but sometimes his emotions overpower him. You kiss his cheek, deciding to not comment on the subject until he does so himself. After all, you achieved what you came here to do — collect whichever stray kid had wandered their way to work on a weekend and get them home.
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queers-gambit · 1 month
Text
Adore Her, Dior Her
prompt: ( requested ) what good is having all that money if he can't spend it on the woman he loves?
pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Marvel
word count: 4.3k+
warnings: author foams at the mouth for Mafia AUs, overwhelming fluff, cursing, not edited.
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"That's the one. That's one we should get!"
"You've said that about the past three dresses, Buck!" You groaned, smoothing your hands over the skirt. "We need to narrow this down, okay? The wedding's in a month!"
"Why did we even agree to go?"
You glared, "'Cause we love my brother and we're supporting him."
"But she's just so - "
"Jen. Her name's Jen."
Bucky nodded, leaning back on the cushioned chair, "Well, Jen's just wrong for him. Literally the definition of toxic."
"Does it count if they're toxic together? To each other?" You sighed, standing on the pedestal and turning to look in the three mirrors beside the dressing room.
"Of course it does," he stood, buttoning his suit jacket out of habit. He approached you, head cocking as he looked your body up and down to get the full view of the gown you tried on. "You're really okay letting him marry her? Turn this way a bit, baby, lemme see the front."
You scoffed, but took his offered hand and twisted on the small platform towards him, "You were there at Christmas, he doesn't listen to reason. So, if Daniel's convinced Jen's for him, as his sister, my only job is be supportive."
"They literally abuse each other," he pointed out.
"Well, he's not changing his mind. Okay? It's been three years, he won't budge, whenever someone brings up them breaking up, he goes into hiding - so, I don't know what else I can do," your hands slapped your thighs when you shrugged, "except just be there for him. Now, focus, please, help me narrow a dress down."
He shook his head as you turned to face the mirrors again, "Actually, you know what? I don't think anything in this store is for us."
The attendant perked up and scurried over, rushing, "Oh, well, we have a much larger selection in the back, Mr. Barnes - "
"That won't be necessary, Barbra, thank you, though," he nodded. "Doll," his hand planted on your waist, head over your shoulder as you still looked yourself over in the mirrors, "go get changed, I know where we need to go."
"Bucky, no, there's plenty of options here," you argued, twisting on the wee little pedestal to face him again. "We don't need to drop a stack on a dress - "
"You let me worry about the price tag," he smirked, leaning in to peck your cheek. "Just go change, pretty girl, c'mon. Step-to!"
You offered Barbra, the attendant, an apologetic smile as you shuffled back into the changing room; quickly stripping from the dress. When you exited in your street clothes, Bucky was tipping the aged woman for her effort in gathering your options, but the moment he saw you, his hand was extending to hold yours tightly.
"What was wrong with that store?" You asked when you stepped onto the noisy and busy street to approach the sleek, tinted car Bucky drove for day-to-day errands.
"We're not shopping at David's fucking Bridal."
"You literally drove us here," you laughed.
"Yeah, and then I had a much better idea," he smirked at you, unlocking the car and opening your passenger door. "C'mon, princess, just gotta trust me."
"Last time you said that - "
"That wasn't my fault," he groaned, cheeks flaring red in embarrassment. When you opened your mouth to retort, he rushed, "Aht, nope, don't say shit. C'mon, I'm taking you somewhere special so get that pretty ass in the car."
He grinned when you laughed and did as bid, feet safely inside when he closed the door after you were settled. Bucky easily jogged around the back of his car, New York busy this time of year as traffic flew past on the street and forced Buck slow. He dropped into the driver's seat, sniffling slightly.
"Reminds me," Bucky smirked as he pulled onto the street, "how would you feel about us going to Aspen this winter?"
You sighed, "Why?"
"You wanna stay in New York for Christmas?"
"Well, yeah! It's so magical."
"Okay, so, we can go over New Years?"
You sighed, "You know, we don't have to go anywhere..."
"Sweetheart," he cleared his throat, "I actually have some business in Aspen, this will just help determine when I schedule the meetings for."
"Oh," you nodded slowly.
He sighed, "I know my job isn't orthodox, but business is business, right, sugar?”
"No, yeah, yeah, I get it. It sounds kinda nice, maybe we can go skiing."
"You know how to ski?"
"No, but I'm sure someone in Aspen could help teach me."
Bucky grinned. The drive was full of easy conversation, neither you nor Bucky dwelling on his business dealings, always feeling as if it was taboo given his station in the Mafia. So when he pulled up in front of a designer store, you gawked. "Now, if we can't find something here - "
"Um, absolutely not," you laughed. "Bucky, I can't even afford to walk into a place like that!"
"Good thing I'm paying," he smirked. He assisted you out of the car, tossing his keys to one of his security guards who had been following in a separate, tinted vehicle. When you both entered the dimly lit store, you were blown away by the gorgeous minimalist design; warm lighting, open floor space, and racks of different clothing options.
"Ah, Mr. Barnes! Hello, hello, hello!" A new attendant greeted with more enthusiasm than you would've greeted any of your clients, approaching you two. She shook your boyfriend's hand vigorously, "To what do we owe this pleasure?"
Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist, "Looking for a dress to wear to a wedding."
She offered you a forced smile, telling your boyfriend swiftly with her teeth on full display, "You came to the right spot!"
"See?" Bucky smirked at you. "All right, Valeria, what's first?"
Valeria waved you both onward to a private changing room, offering complimentary sparkling waters, coffees, teas - even offering to go retrieve anything you two would want from the Starbucks down the block. Valeria took your measurements and dress size, making idle chit-chat with Bucky and making it obvious he was a regular in the store, then scurrying off to collect an armful of options.
"This is - wow," you nodded in impression, petting the material of the display dresses hung along the wall.
"Like it?"
"It's growing on me," you eased with a small shrug, hearing Bucky chuckle and for his phone to chime. You perused the place as he became glued to the little device, sat in front of the dressing rooms.
Valeria returned with another attendant carrying coffees. "Right this way, Mrs. Barnes," Valeria directed you into a changing room, missing the giddy look you sent Bucky over your shoulder at being called his wife. "All right, so," she sighed, hanging up the dresses she selected, "I think these are modest enough for a wedding, but still glamorous to turn a few heads."
You hummed, "They're kinda short, don't know if that's the energy I want to be giving off at my brother's wedding."
"They'll fit differently once on but we can always accommodate," she assured, pulling one from the hanger. "Here we go," she assisted you, zipping you in and looking you over. "Oh, it's just darling on you! Look at that, not a single hair outta place, right?"
You giggled lightly, "It's certainly pretty."
"Shall we show Mr. Barnes?"
You nodded, following her out to reveal Bucky sitting on a plush loveseat, sipping his coffee. His eyes widened when he saw you, nodding, "Oh, yeah. This is what I'm talking about."
"Hush, we're only buying one."
His eyes rolled, "I'll buy the whole damn store if I want."
"You don't own it already? Hm," you teased, perking your brows.
"Keep sayin' shit, I'll cut a check right now - "
"Bucky," you tisked, moving to the runway mirrors. "It's a little tight, isn't it?"
"It's snug," Valeria agreed. "Is there a color scheme for the wedding?"
"Um," you paused, "I'm not sure - I just know it's in winter, like, in a month."
"Maybe a pretty powder blue?" She looked to Bucky, who nodded. "Or how about a pale green? Like an olive tone?"
"She looks gorgeous in anything," Bucky smirked from behind you, taking another pull of his coffee.
"What about that brown number?" You asked, ignoring the way his compliments made you feel like the only girl he's ever seen in the world.
"You have a very good eye, Mrs. Barnes," Valeria nodded. She asked her coworker to go find your size, taking you back into the dressing room. You narrowed down the options without changing again, not wanting anything black or dark since it was a wedding and not a funeral. Though, you knew Bucky would disagree.
You showed your boyfriend a pretty little green dress, but he shook his head. "I thought the black was nice," he told you.
"I'm not wearing black to a wedding," you laughed lightly. "It screams bad luck to me, don't you think?"
"Think it's more of a statement, sayin' the entire event is a sham and they shouldn't be doing this," Bucky snickered, the other attendant, Laura, returning with a pretty brown dress. "That satin?" He asked, rubbing the material when it was presented to you both.
"It's very fashionable now," Laura nodded, "and it's not too dark."
"Since when is it a rule to not wear dark colors to a wedding? I miss the memo?" Buck leaned back to his seat.
All three women offered him a small look, you chuckling under your breath before Valeria was leading you back into the changing room. "If I may, Mrs?" She spoke softly, "I've known Mr. Barnes for a number of years but he's never brought anyone into the store. Then, one day, he tells me he needs a new suit because the 'girl of his dreams' had agreed to a date, and every time since then?" She smiled softly at you, "He's sang your praises. I'm very honored you're trusting me with helping you today."
"Oh," you blinked in shock, giggling nervously, "well, thank you very much, Valeria, now I know why his suits are always top of the line." She waved you off, making you add, "And for the record, I'm not Mrs. Barnes, guess that'd be his mother, wouldn't it?"
"Oh," her eyes widened, gasping softly, "oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't know, I just - he talks so highly about you - "
"No, it's okay, it's okay," you rushed, patting her arm. "I actually kind of like it..."
She hummed, zipping you into another dress, "You know, he's the reason my girl and I are together."
"Really? How'd that happen?"
Valeria chuckled, "He's very bold, your man. We were getting coffee one day, discussing his wardrobe for a business trip he had in Hong Kong, when my lady walked in. I went all silly and stupid, and Mr. Barnes just," she shook her head with a fond smile, "brazenly asked her out for me, in front of the whole shop."
"Oh, Jesus, yeah - sounds like him."
"Well, luckily, it worked, else I don't think he would've come back for my assistance. I was so embarrassed, you have no idea, but my lady - Charlie - thought it was charming and cute. Mr. Barnes hasn't let me live it down since. Says he demands an invite to the wedding." She met your eyes through the mirror, offering, "And I'd be really happy to give him a plus one, hmm?"
"You're so sweet," you whispered, turning to survey the dress. You spent the better part of three hours there, trying on dress after dress, nitpicking almost everything as you just weren't sure what to wear. Bucky wasn't much help, he just approved everything.
So, it was up to Valeria and Laura to help you; bringing out iPads and design books, trying to piece something together that best fit your comfort and the vibe of the wedding. You didn't want to look like a walking money bag since your family wasn't by any means wealthy, thinking it would be a slap to their faces since your boyfriend could spend his money without ever thinking about it. You didn't want to give your family any reason to talk behind your back.
"I like the brown satin," Laura offered softly, looking you over in the mirror. "But the blue is just wow, it really looks like it was made for you, doesn't it?"
"Yes, but I think the green compliments her eyes more," Valeria cocked her head in thought. "Are you wearing your hair up or down?"
"Up," you answered, trying to mimic the look by pulling your locks off your shoulders, "with thin jewelry, I think."
"Diamonds?"
"Pearls, if I can find a dress that looks nice with it," you smiled, seeing Bucky's reflection in the mirror watching you with a soft smile on his face; head titled in thought before his phone chimed again and warranted his attention. "Maybe we could try the pink dress?" You looked to the two women for an opinion.
"No," Valeria shook her head, "it washes you out. And pink in winter? Oh, sweetie, I'd lose my job if I let you leave here with that. Guess that means you'll have to come back in the spring, right?"
You grinned in response as Laura chimed in, "The green's actually really nice, but the brown looks much better with your body type." Then she turned to Bucky, prompting, "Mr. Barnes? Final decision - which dress?"
Bucky paused, musing, "Lemme see them all again, get one last taste. It's between the green and brown numbers?"
"Or the blue," Valeria nodded. "C'mon, sweetie," she offered her hand to help you off the wee runway you were perched on in front of the magnificent mirrors.
"You look sensational in them all, doll, how the hell am I supposed to choose just one?" Bucky teased, his canines on display from the broad grin that stretched his lips.
"You'll find a way," you answered.
"Awh, telling me Mr. Big-Tough-Manly-Business-Man who makes impossible decisions everyday can't choose a simple piece of fashion?" Valeria tacked on.
"You guys can't pick either!" He laughed, "And you do a helluva lot more shopping than I do!"
Laura, Valeria, and you paused to exchange looks, you pointing at Bucky and relenting in a drawl, "Touché."
When you were escorted back into the dressing room, Laura waiting outside the door for your privacy with Valeria, Bucky sat back on the plush loveseat and extended his one arm over the back of the seating. He smirked to himself, shaking his head as if in disbelief - but he was. Bucky was in disbelief.
How did a rugged Mob boss find himself here? Watching his girl like a private fashion show?
His whole life, all he knew was turmoil, pain, drama, and fear. He knew he would inherit his father's well-built organization after he passed and knew what this life would entail; having no preconceived notions about a quiet life. He knew he would have to be tougher than tough, adaptable, intelligent, and confident in his role as the head of the 3-6 Brooklyn Mob. Knowing the idea of a family was farfetched, knowing he'd never know the simple pleasures in life, that he would constantly be on the move - in-able to form real, sentimental, emotional connections. He knew, in this life, he'd remain alone for everyone's best interest and safety, indulging in a series of flings and one-off relationships that couldn't haunt him.
Yet they did. These encounters reminded Bucky how alone, how stranded, how isolated, how different he was. Instead of satisfying an unquenchable thirst, these fleeting partners became heavy anchors to Bucky's reality and reminded him that there was no such thing as love - nor was there any room or logic.
And then... He met you. Bucky's lips silently spread in a grin as he remembered meeting you at a bakery; purchasing the last slice of coconut cream pie to your absolute chagrin. He thought you were gorgeous, something ethereal and unobtainable; authentic, raw, and unfiltered - things his one night stands could never measure up to. So, he offered you the slice of pie if it meant giving him your number as currency.
After that, it was impossible for Bucky to consider ever being alone again because you were the sun; center of the universe that drew everyone into your orbit. He was smitten, content, excited to date you, turned on by the fact you had no idea who he was - a rare occurrence in the city. You were pure as fresh snow; sweet, kind, affectionate, attentive, and borderline overly empathetic.
Bucky knew he was in love with you after only a few weeks when he had shown up at your apartment, dripping in blood. You didn't panic like he feared you would, just checked up and down the hallway before yanking him into your home. You cleaned him up, tending to wounds, offering a safe space for him to relax in; making mindless conversation to help distract him from the pain he endured.
And now? Now, Bucky was sat in Dior, giving his opinion on your wedding guest dress; wondering how he allowed himself to get to this point of being domestic. Bucky wasn't a man to give his opinion on dresses, what color nail polish you should use, to send fresh bouquets of flowers every other week. Yet here he was, sipping too-expensive coffee, deciding between brown, green, and blue dresses that he never would've batted an eye at.
However, that was just the domino effect you caused in his life. You were sweeter than apple pie, becoming Bucky's one tether to reality that saved him from losing himself in this dark, criminal mindset he adopted. You didn't know it, but you had transformed Bucky from a brooding asshole into a boyfriend; someone you were proud to claim and never hid from - never shied away from. He admired the way you came to terms with his job, knowing it was a hard pill to swallow and yet noting the way you just accepted him as he was.
Bucky realized in that moment that he adored this new aspect of life after thinking it was impossible to obtain. He adored sitting here, offering opinions on dresses, his security left outside instead of hovering over him like a brutal reminder he was seedy. He loved having you to come home to, he loved being part of your mundane world - a person who went to weddings, who drank Starbucks, who asked her boyfriend his opinion about how she looked in dresses. Who thought bouquets of flowers were romantic, who baked him homemade cakes for his birthday, who worked overtime in order to afford his Christmas or birthday presents, who walked to the takeout place instead of paying for delivery.
All that you are, Bucky adored deeply; falling in love with you each and every single day. All he wanted to do was protect you, share his life with you, even pick out outfits for weddings you would attend. He knew if any of the men in his organization knew the extent of his affection, they'd surely weaponize it against him... Or at the very least, tease him relentlessly. Yet he never cared, knowing you wanted to be loved out loud instead of hidden away in a storage closet; but did care if it meant his enemies could use you to get to him. It was a risk, an occupation hazard for loved ones to become targets, but that only made Bucky so much more protective of you.
Laura glanced at Bucky and saw the fond smile soften to let his teeth trap his bottom lip, smiling at the Mob boss looking soft, content, smitten being there. She knew most boyfriends would never put this much effort into helping their girlfriends in the fashion department, thinking he must've been truly in love to look so at-ease. Plus his enthusiasm through the entire ordeal assured her that Bucky was genuinely enjoying himself.
Once again, you slipped into the blue dress and showed Bucky. He hummed and snapped a photo, asking you to turn this way and that. Then you tried the green dress, him taking another photo, and finally, you changed into the brown satin dress, facing Bucky for his final verdict.
Bucky hummed in contemplation, swiping through the photos. "You know what?" He asked, looking at you with a grin. "You look delectable in everything, I can't decide - so, let's just get them all."
"Bucky, no - "
"We'll take all three, Valeria, please," Bucky interrupted you.
You waited until the attendants left you alone with a knowing look shot in your direction to ring up the desired purchases, hip cocking and hands to your hips. With an underlying exasperation, you questioned, "What the hell, Buck?"
He grinned and stood, again, buttoning his suit jacket, "C'mon, princess, this is fun, right? Being spoiled?." His arms wrapped around your waist, looking down at you as if you hung the very sun that sucked him into your orbit. "What's the point of all my money if I can't spend it on you? Huh?"
"You can save it for a rainy day?"
He shrugged, "Not necessary."
"Maybe pay to send some underprivileged kids to go to college?"
"Well, there's a thought," your boyfriend mused, "but I already do that through the Stark Foundation. I sponsor a few scholarships."
"Okay, well, buying all three still doesn't help me decide what to wear," you chuckled, you mimicked his action and wrapped your arms tightly around the base of his ribs. Due to his height, your head had to tip backwards to meet his eyes with a small smile.
You could look at this gorgeous man all day, everyday if God ever permitted such an act. Why wasn't dating a paid activity? You'd be the top earner with the way you were absolutely enthralled with all Bucky Barnes was. And what an honor it was to earn his mutual adoration.
"We'll figure it out at home. Gotta get you moving in the material to make an honest judgement," he offered softly. "But you look gorgeous in all of them, baby, seriously. Like, drop dead gorgeous that makes every girl brim with jealousy. Shit, doll, you're gonna run the risk of outshining the bride."
You sighed, "Look, Buck, I appreciate what you're doing, but three designer dresses? Where the hell am I ever gonna wear them? What kinda event calls for overpriced fashion statements?"
Buck eased with a soft expression, "Guess I'll just have to take you out so you can put them all to good use, huh?"
"That's not a solution!"
"Is to me," he let a hand drift to roughly palm the meat of your ass cheek over the brown satin; another symptom of him being whipped, his comfort over public displays of affection. "Seriously, doll, how the hell did I get so lucky?"
"Hmm?"
"Just look at you, my girl," he chuckled lightly, "radiant in anything you put on. It's almost unfair, makes me wonder what I did so right to have someone like you I can call my own. I can't wait to show you off in those dresses, just look so Goddamn tantalizing. I mean, damn, baby, I'm gonna have to fight off men with my gun and the jealous women with a stick."
"You do realize we're already dating, you don't have to lay it on so thick."
"And you do realize being with you makes me the luckiest bastard in the city, right? Least I can do is spoil you, I've already got everything else I've ever wanted."
Your heart swelled at his words, sighing gently as your chin rested on his chest to keep your head tilted. Softly, you admitted, "I don't think you're the lucky one, pretty sure the honor's mine. I couldn't ask for anything more in a man - in a partner. I'm so fucking in love with you, Bucky, it honestly doesn't make sense."
He nodded, asking, "Know what else doesn't make sense?"
"What's that?"
"You refusing those dresses, I mean, c'mon!" He laughed, you groaning and releasing your hold; making his tighten to prevent you from escaping. "Those dresses look phenomenal on you, you really gonna reject my gift? C'mon, you know the rules, doll, if you adore her, you Dior her." You were ready to retort, but Bucky smiled, "For the record, I think you should wear the blue dress to the wedding."
"Blue it is," you smiled, lifting onto your toes and hooking a hand around the back of his neck to meet his lips in a scratchy kiss. "Thank you so much, baby," you whispered, feeling his lips spread against yours before he brought you back in for a much-more passionate kiss. "Hm!" You hummed, pulling away to scold, "But no more, all right? You spend too much money on me - I mean, who the hell needs three designer dresses?"
"You do," he whispered, "you deserve all of this, sugar, and I'll do what I can t'spoil you the way you should be. Might as well get used to it, I got no plans on stopping."
Your eyes rolled in good faith, excusing yourself, "Yeah, yeah, all right. Lemme get changed and we can - "
"Nah," he shook his head, petting the skin of your back exposed from the brown satin dress with his fingertips, "know what? Stay in the dress, I wanna take you out and show you off."
Your lips found his in a breath-sucking kiss, trying to convey your appreciation and giddiness over never having been spoiled like this in your entire life - feeling grateful, refreshed, and privileged for a man like Bucky in your life. Whatever greater force there was in this world, you thanked repeatedly for choosing you to love this man and for this man to love you. There was no telling what you did to deserve him, but blessed be those heavenly powers.
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requesting rules and masterlist
MCU masterlist
942 notes · View notes
teamatsumu · 3 months
Text
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exclusive. (gojo satoru x reader)
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summary: A series of moments with Gojo Satoru, leading to the moment you realize you’re in love with him.
word count: 2,223
warnings: swearing, fem!reader, friends to lovers (?), jujutsu high shenanigans, this is pretty harmless fluff
tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi
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Anyone who met Gojo Satoru for the first time had a visceral reaction to him.
Either they found him loud, obnoxious and annoying (both Shoko and Suguru described that as their first impressions of him), or they were starstruck by him. After all, he was Gojo Satoru. The wielder of the most powerful cursed technique in the Jujutsu world at present. The brilliant Six Eyes. And even at such a young age he showed potential that made the higher ups nervous.
And he was easy on the eyes too. Tall, lean, porcelain pale skin, hair like snow and eyes brighter than the blue skies. It was in the way he carried himself, shoulders set back, chin held high, imposing and demanding that all eyes met him. Girls were endlessly obsessed with him, with the idea of him. And he ate that shit up.
You however, would argue that you didn’t have any impression of him at all. He was just there. Okay, that was Gojo Satoru. Cool. Time to just shrug and walk away. He wasn’t exactly someone you had to interact with daily. He was a year older, in a different class. He had friends of his own. And he was quite literally famous. Why would he bother with you?
What you didn’t know about Gojo Satoru was that he didn’t need any reason to be obnoxious. He just was. Seeing someone indifferent to his existence lit a fire in him, and he was adamant on making sure you noticed him. One way or the other.
“So it doesn’t matter to you if I’m cursing you out? As long as I’m paying attention to you?”
You eyed him, watching as he leaned back on the two back legs of the chair he was sitting in until it teetered dangerously. The action kind of put you on edge but you would be damned if you let him know that it bothered you. Mostly because if he knew then he would never stop doing it.
He snapped his fingers and grinned in the affirmative.
“All press is good press.”
You gave him an incredulous look. “What does that even mean?”
“I don’t know, it sounds cool.”
You rolled your eyes and turned back to your textbook. A bout of silence fell on you for a few brief moments, before Satoru felt the urge to ruin it again.
“You’re not gonna fail.”
You didn’t look up. “Thanks?”
“So stop studying.”
You sighed, still not looking at him. You flipped a page. A hand grabbed at your open book, shutting it with a soft thud. You finally turned to glare at the boy. Over the curve of his shades, his eyes were as blue as ever. He grinned wide.
“There she is. Hey, pretty girl.”
Another thing about him, he flirted endlessly.
Your scowl deepened, trying to will away the heat that rushed to your ears. It was annoying, almost frustrating, how easy he thought it was to get under your skin. Saying shit like this as if it didn’t mean anything. Casual. Unserious.
Your train of thought broke when he reached forward and pinched your cheek hard. You yelped and pushed him hand away, wrestling against his strength when he tried to twist closer to you. By the time Suguru and Kento walked into the classroom, he had you pinned on the desk and was messing your hair up the best he could while you called him every colorful name you could think of.
Suguru didn’t bat an eye. Kento just sighed. This was, unfortunately, normal.
You, of course, didn’t fail your exam. Surprisingly, neither did Satoru, even though you had not seen him open a book once. Practical application was one thing (Satoru excelled in that of course), but how did he manage to get the theory right? He had spent every minute of his prep days either bothering you in person, sending you endless text messages, or lounging around in your room and watching TV. The fact that he passed and was now a third year was more surprising to you than the fact that you passed. At least you studied for it.
“You just wanted me to fail so I would be held back for the year and we could be classmates.” Satoru grinned, peeling open a packet of those overly sweet jellies he loved eating. You snorted, turning over in your bed and pulling your sheets up higher. It was nearly 10 in the morning, and Satoru had woken you up with the news that results were out and both of you had passed. Your body was still sluggish, eyelids heavy with exhaustion and residual sleep.
“Is that your breakfast?” You watched him lean back and shake the entire bag of jellies straight into his mouth from above. Your face twisted in disgust.
“Yup. Gotta start the day right.”
You didn’t bother to argue, shoving your face into the pillow and hoping it would suffocate you to death. You heard shuffling and then felt the mattress dip, grunting when you felt something heavy fall over your back.
“So what do you wanna do today?”
You let out a pained sigh, not bothering to turn and look at him, or his legs that were likely draped over you.
“I was planning to sleep in but I guess I can’t do that anymore.” Your tone was dry.
“Damn right. Let's go to the city.”
“Can’t you go bother Getou-san?”
“He isn’t as fun.”
You turned your head to look at him, just in time to see him pull apart a chocolate bar. Your eyes widened in horror.
“No!” You shoved him hard and he toppled off the bed with a loud ‘oof’, until all you could see was his legs hanging in the air.
“What the fuck?” His tone was more baffled than it was pained. You saw his messy head of hair pop up over the edge of the bed, his eyes wide, glasses nowhere to be seen.
“You’ll get chocolate on my sheets!”
“So you pushed me off?” Before he could pull himself back up, you rushed forward, trying to keep him down, slipping off the edge and falling right on top of him. You grabbed the hand with the chocolate, prying it from his fingers. You placed it carefully on your side table, finally sighing and leaning back, looking down at the boy before you. Or more accurately, under you.
Satoru was wearing a huge, toothy grin on his face, wiggling his eyebrows. He seemed to have completely forgotten his chocolate. His hands rested on your bare thighs, fingers just shy of the hem of your shorts.
“You know what, you can keep the chocolate. I’m fine right here.”
You glared at him, standing up to walk away, but not before you dug a foot into his stomach. Satoru groaned, but still grinned, grabbing your ankle.
“You should just let things happen, baby. We’d be great together, you know?”
You didn’t let his words get to you, nor did you let your mind dwell on how soft his fingers felt around your ankle, or how his hands had felt on the bare skin of your thighs. You couldn’t think about it, because nothing Satoru did was real. He was just playing. He was a good friend who tried annoying you as much as possible. That’s it.
It didn’t matter that he whined your name whenever you ignored him, or how he would wrap his arms around you until you were curled under him, or how he would pin your arms down so you wouldn’t struggle when he laid sloppy, obnoxious kisses on your cheeks and forehead. Your couch was his permanent bed, and he claimed he was there because your TV was bigger than his. You couldn’t understand why he couldn’t just buy a TV for his room. He was loaded.
You don’t know at what point everyone started assuming you were dating, but when Shoko vocalized this perception, you felt like a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped on you.
“We are not dating. What the fuck? I can barely stand him.”
You ignored the petulant ‘hey’ that left his lips, focused on your upperclassman across the table from you. Shoko was blank-faced, giving you a look that said ‘really?’. You didn’t back down.
“We aren’t! We’re good friends, yes, but-”
A snort from beside you, and finally you turned your head to glare at him. Satoru’s lips were twisted into an amused smirk, and the sight of it annoyed you. You felt like everyone at the table- Shoko, Suguru, Kento, Haibara- were laughing at you. Your face burned in embarrassment, so you lashed out at the one man who always bore the brunt of it.
“Why are you smirking? Wipe that off your face.”
He shrugged, ignoring what you said. “I just think it’s funny that you think we aren’t dating.”
“We’re not.”
“Sure.”
You let out an exasperated sigh. “We’re not! What the fuck are you on? We’ve never even kissed!”
Just talking about this was making you squirm uncomfortably, let alone in front of all your friends.
“You were practically in my lap in the car on our way here.”
You smacked his bicep hard. “There were six of us! And it was a tight fit! And- you offered!”
He was grinning by now, leaning closer to you. “Of course I did. We’re dating.”
You blinked, shocked into silence. A few moments passed. “This is gaslighting. You’re gaslighting me.”
You heard a snort and turned your head towards Haibara, who tried to disguise it as a cough.
“Okay, if we’re not dating, explain this to me,” Satoru began, pulling your attention back to him. You tried to will your heart into beating slower.
“Would you have put your legs in Suguru’s lap?”
You sputtered, feeling your face burn as you glanced at the man in question, he looked unbothered.
“No! That’s- no.”
“Nanami? Haibara?”
You didn’t answer.
“Shoko?”
“She’s my senpai.”
“I’m your senpai too.”
You rolled your eyes. “You sure don’t act like it.”
“So what you’re saying is,” Satoru continued, ignoring your quip. His voice was jovial, slightly teasing, and you dreaded where he was going with this. “There’s some stuff you would do only with me?”
You glared at him.
“Almost like…… being exclusive?”
“We are not dating.” Your argument was beginning to sound weaker and weaker. Everyone around you was staring at you with amusement as the gears turned at your head.
“Okay.” Satoru smiled, and you almost reeled back at how soft it was.
“We’re not.”
Oh my god.
……………………..
It took three or four days later to finally get your thoughts straight enough to talk to Satoru about the….. dating incident.
You had been over analyzing everything, trying to look at every interaction between you and him from a third person’s perspective, and you realized how abnormal it really was. No normal friends interacted the way you and Satoru did. Relentless teasing, touching, hugging. The unending push and tug. Caught in the whirlwind that was Gojo Satoru, you had not noticed how close you were to him, and how dependent you were on his presence.
Maybe he was right. In some strange way, you two were a couple.
You sat with this newfound information, feeling it burn and chip away at your skin, leaving you raw and vulnerable. How were you supposed to bring this up with him? You watched the figures on the TV before you bound around, not absorbing anything that was being said, your attention only on the slowly simmering pot of water that was your brain and your thoughts. When your door swung open with a loud squeak, you finally looked up.
Satoru was humming something to himself as he lumbered in, spotting you on the couch and grinning.
“Hey, what are your dinner plans? I'm craving Korean barbecue.”
You stared at him for a bit, as he toed his shoes off and tried to struggle out of his uniform jacket. It settled in you like a soft cloud, the knowledge that there was nothing to talk about. Your heart skipped a beat, and you stood up.
“I’m going to change.” Your voice was low.
Satoru looked up, lips pursed into a confused pout that you almost thought was cute. “Why? You look great.”
You muscled past the compliment, not letting it get to you. “I’m going to put on a nice outfit. And do my hair. And you’re going to go change too. Dress fancy. It’s a date.”
Satoru watched you, mouth open like a goldfish, as you puttered through the room and to your closet. He was frozen, dumbfounded. It was a new look on him. And you discovered that you liked it very much. You feigned innocence as you turned to look back at him.
“What’s wrong? I thought we were dating?”
That seemed to break his trance, and a cheshire grin took over his face. He didn’t even bother putting his shoes back on, gathering them in his hands and bounding out the door, making you laugh at how eager he was.
Talking was overrated anyway. This way was more fun.
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chuuyasheaven · 8 months
Note
bsd men as tits ass or thighs pls :3?? (specifically meursault boys)
“Tits, Ass or Thighs— What do they prefer?”
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“—Everybody’s got certain preferences, don’t they? So, what are theirs?”
Tags: Dazai Osamu, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol, Chuuya Nakahara, Sigma / afab! Reader, Nipple play?, ooc! Sigma, praising kink, degrading kink, overstimulation, pet names?, hdc format ig, thigh riding?, hickeys, mentioned lingerie?, spanking, mild brat taming, atp everyone may be ooc, face sitting, oral sex (afab! and m! recieving), titty job, messes of their milk, might contain grammar errors, this is a lot holy shit, etc.
Notes: Maybe u just meant Dazai, Fyodor and Chuuya but I added Nikolai and Sigma for funsies— hope this is okay tho!! And I never wrote for Sigma before so sorry if he’s so ooc. . Maybe he’s gonna be added to my list lol.
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Dazai Osamu ;
💙 Thighs 💙
💙 I just know that he loves your thighs!! In my opinion, DAZAI lives for seeing you in thigh highs, especially if you have thick thighs. What do you mean you don’t wanna crush him with them??? What else are they made for then— oh, right, hickeys. It’s obvious that he’ll leave some marks here and there for fun, but another thing he lives about them is face sitting. This is literally the best way to die?!!? But also he lives to grab your thighs when he eats you out!!!
💙 Scenario;
He’s been at it for too long, you don’t even remember how many times you came already. . “Dazai, p–please. . S–sensitive!”, you tried to beg, but Dazai was way into this— Once you sit on this mans face, he won’t let go until your too sensitive, Dazai also always leave hickeys while he’s at it. Chanting how he would love to die this way, being crushed by your massive thighs. “—Why should I? You’re still talking properly, I won’t stop until you’re only able to moan my name. Now be a good girl, alright, ‘donna?”
Fyodor Dostoevsky ;
💙 Thighs 💙
💙 In all honesty, this man is a mystery for me– but if I would have to chose, thighs. FYODOR is kinda religious and stuff, meaning he’s definitely gonna be kinda traditional. (i do not know wtf I’m talking abt.) Fyodor doesn’t know what it is, but something about you in white lingerie and white thigh highs sets him off completely. Looking all innocent but being the complete opposite? Yes, absolute approval from him. But being the busy man he is, he’ll let you sit on his lap while he caresses your thighs!! :3
💙 Scenario ;
Seriously, how desperate are you? Walking up to Fyodor in white lingerie and white thigh highs while he’s obviously working? He finds it quite amusing how you think he’ll stop immediately to fuck you, no he won’t, yet. Fyodor just commands you to sit on his lap, now you’re getting off on his own thighs. But you’re still wearing panties, though he doesn’t care, you wanted this, didn’t you? As you keep grinding against it, he slapped your pussy through the fabric multiple times before. The small whines and whimpers are cute, but won’t change his mind to take you right now. “—I don’t really know what you expected me to do. . Well, actually, i did. It’s quite adorable how you think just because you’re desperate I’ll feed into your desires. Anyway, you seem to be getting off pretty easily, slut.”
Nikolai Gogol ;
💙 Tits 💙
Come on, this is so NIKOLAI, seriously. He's so silly, he would literally call them his personal stressballs. (Do not even try to deny it, it's canon.) Nonetheless, he likes to cum on them, Nikolai will make a mess out of them every time whenever you're giving him head. Another thing their useful for, in his opinion, is tit fucking!! It's a nice feeling for him when his dick's inside of your tits. Not to forget, your nipples are pretty fun to play with, but there's one last thing about them. .
💙 Scenario ;
There are many reasons why Nikolai adores you riding him! He loves how he barely has to do anything, hearing the adorable sounds leaving your mouth while you get off on his cock and most importantly, the way your tits bounce with you. All he's doing is laying back and enjoying the view of your tits almost bouncing out of your bra, he would love if they were to actually jump out. “—Hm, would you look at that! Your tits are seconds away to spill out of your bra, dove. I wouldn't mind if they did, maybe you just need to ride my dick faster. . Just like the needy whore you are.”
Sigma ;
💙 Tits 💙
I’m not really sure if it’s accurate, but running an casino ain’t easy. So what’s better than having you and your comfort. .—able tits? SIGMA would never admit it, but he loves them, dearly at that. If he ever needs an break, his head would probably rest on them. On the spicy side, he loves a good tit job. You mentioned this once and Sigma wasn’t against it, sure he was blushing over your suggestion but after he tried it, he loved it!!!
💙 Scenario ;
It felt good, really, Sigma loved your suggestion! He never thought of something like this, he never thought about recieving a tit job, but it felt heavenly. Just the way your tits were rubbing against his cock so good, it felt unreal. . The most beautiful whimpers left his lips, with his flushed expression on his face too, you assumed Sigma was enjoying himself, very. Soon he reached his climax, letting his cum leak on your tits. “—F–fuck. . You did s–so good, darling. Now, lay back and let me return the favor, yeah?”
Chuuya Nakahara ;
💙 Ass 💙
Ah, yes. CHUUYA is, in my opinion, an ass man. I saw a few people say that, and I agree. Like, he’s literally proud of that. He would slap your ass unexpected, respectfully though. He wouldn’t care if you’re carrying a bakery or not, he still slapping it!! Chuuya loves to spend money on matching bras and panties for you, but on your in general. Sometimes it gets to your head or something and you start to act out, which our ginger won’t let slide.
💙 Scenario ;
Lately, you’ve gotten on Chuuya’s nerves. Yeah, he loves to spend money on you and you, but he won’t stand you being bratty. As to right now, he’s ‘punishing’ you for it. The reference for ‘punishing’ is quite just fucking you until it’s stuck in your pretty little brain not to act out again. This time though, Chuuya added something to your punishment. . “Ch–chuuya. . ‘m sorry, I–i didn’t mean to—”, you tried to apologize, only to be silenced by another spank. “—Really? Too bad, you’re gonna take this if you want me to fuck you, baby. Just keep on taking f’me and I’ll fuck you soon enough, m‘kay?”
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OH EM GEE YOU GUYS IT TOOK ME THREE DAYS TO FINISH
1K notes · View notes
spookysteddie · 4 months
Text
That Friday Night
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Modern!Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Influencer!fem!reader
read part one here
18+ MINORSDNI
cw: alcohol, drugs (weed and cocaine), clubbing, slight Dom!Eddie if you squint, possessive!Eddie, swearing, pet names, oral (fem!receiving), light choking, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, edging, creampie. (let me know if I missed anything)
wc: 4.3k (I'm so sorry)
a/n: First of all, I want to thank every single person who liked, reblogged or made comments about part one. I was shitting myself posting it because (like I said) this is not an original thought. I'd read a few and it gave me this wave of inspiration. I am very proud of this part. It's also a little long (sorry sorry sorry I couldn't stop) . Also I don't think I'll be doing a tag list? When I used to do that no one on the list would like the fic and it was a lot of work. I hope that is okay? Let me know if you want more! I love and appreciate all of you!
...
You weren’t the type of person who got shy. Your entire job is being in front of a camera, telling people what you like, what you wear, the type of music you listen to. You did brand deals and went on lots of trips with people you didn’t know. Public interaction was easy for you and you definitely enjoyed it. 
But being personally invited to your favorite band's concert (even if you had tickets already) as their frontman's personal guest? It makes you weak in the knees. 
Telling your team about the phone call went about as good as one would expect. Anna and Case frown at you while continuing to say ‘you could’ve let it go to voicemail and we could’ve handled it directly with his people. AND why did you have him send the information directly to you?’
They weren't necessarily wrong in being upset. There were plenty of ways a conversation like that could be twisted and fucked with, especially if, for whatever reason, someone was recording the phone call. It was very easy for them to manipulate and edit that kind of shit, and drama was the last thing you wanted. 
However, the rest of the week went by without an issue. The gossip magazines had moved on to something else (though there were a few who continued to speculate about your non-relationship with Eddie. You did your deals, and kept yourself busy. And by the time Friday rolled around you were hardly nervous. 
Or that’s what you kept telling yourself. 
“Bell bottom star pants. Absolutely,” Hana says from her place on your bathroom counter, practically in the sink. “With that black leather top you love AND the red leather jacket. Oh! Oh! Oh! And the red boots!” 
You put the outfit on, looking in the mirror, “you don’t think it’s too… stereotypical?” 
Hana looks at you through the mirror, “no such thing. You look great.” 
Hana was one of the few people in your life who’d tell you like it is. You could trust her to tell you if her gut feelings were off, or on. She was your best friend and one of the few people who weren’t just here for the exposure. She’s here to be your cheerleader and you were hers. 
“Alright, let's get this going before I change my mind which I am two seconds away from doing.” 
… 
You should’ve changed your mind. 
You can hardly keep from throwing up as you're led by security to a private entrance. To get there you have to pass by their tour buses. All you can hear is loud music and whooping from inside. It’s clear they’re running around in there as the bus is rocking and all you can do is pray they don’t see you. 
You’re far too sober for the interaction you’ll be having at this current time. 
Unfortunately for you, the universe hates you. Just when you think you’re home free, the door opens, almost smacking you in the face. 
“Don’t think you can get away that easy, Asher,” Eddie says as he looks down at you. His pupils are blown wide, clearly from whatever drug he’s consumed. More than likely cocaine and weed. His words aren’t slurred so he isn’t drunk, though he does have a beer bottle in his large hands. 
God his hands, there have been many times where you’d imagine them wrapped around your throat, cutting off air as he fucks you like he hates you. You bet he could reach you even as he’s eating you out, he’s so tall and long. 
You wish you could say the grin you shoot at him is fake, however with the way he’s looking at you, like he wants to devour and smother you, it's not. You feel like a fucking school girl who has a crush. Your heart pounds so fast in your chest and you swear everyone around you can hear it. 
“We weren’t running away,” you say, voice a little breathier than you’d like. “Um this is my best friend-” 
“Hana, nice to meet you,” he cuts you off. It’s then that you see his eyes get wide and you know he’s been stalking your profile. Not that you can say anything because you’ve done it… a lot. “I, uh, saw the instagram story you put up earlier.” 
Hana smirks, “sure you did, big boy.” She pats his chest and is clearly much braver than you. That’s another thing about you and her, if one of you is feeling not confident, the other makes up for it. Like, on your own, asking for ketchup feels like cutting off a limb, but if she can't do it then it's up to you and vice versa. 
Eddie scratches the back of his neck, his black t-shirt stretching over his wide shoulder, “want to join us? We have alcohol!” 
“We would love that. Wouldn’t we?” Hana looks down at you with her brows raised, still taller than you in heels. 
You nod, “yes. Yeah absolutely! Are we allowed to photograph in here?” 
You know it’s a stupid thing to ask, but you also don’t want to take a photo of you and Hana and then not be able to post it. And what if you get photos with the rest of the band? Everyone already knows you’re going to be here. Just not… in this tour bus. 
Eddie nods, holding out his hand, “you are allowed to do whatever you want, pretty girl. And if anyone has an issue, send them my way, yeah?” He kisses the hand you’ve placed in his before leading you up the stairs of his bus. 
It's chaos in there, pure and utter chaos. You turn to look at Hana, silently telling her how insane this is. She nods slightly, but you see the grin on her face. Hana loves this stuff; the parties, the madness, all of it.
Eddie introduces you to the band, pulling you in closer by the waist. “You all need to be on your best behavior. No one touches her. Do you all understand me?” Your heart flutters at how serious he is and it instantly forces his bandmates eyes to fall to your feet. It’s impressive, actually. 
Suddenly, a bottle of beer is in your hands, passed to you by Eddie. “Oh… thank you.” You can hardly look at him as a small smile forms on your lips. His attention makes you feel all kinds of funny inside, your stomach doing flips. You know you have to look at him eventually, but he’s just so pretty that it actually hurts. 
“Um, so are you excited for your show?” This time you manage to actually drag your eyes to his. He smiles at you, his teeth so beautiful and perfect. It’s when he sits down that you realize that was a stupid question. Of course he’s excited. This is his actual job. 
He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees as he looks up at you through his lashes, you could kiss him. But you don’t for obvious reasons. Reasons you can't really think of at the moment. Not when he’s looking at you like that.  The beer bottle hangs in his right hand between his legs. 
“Very. Not much comes close to the feeling I get when we’re on that stage.” He shakes his head, curly hair moving with him, “plus, being able to hear people sing my songs back to me is fucking incredible.” 
His hand finds yours, pulling you a little closer. Eddie is testing the waters, you know this. Unfortunately for you, your brain can’t see through the cloud of lust. So, you let him pull you closer, sit you on his lap, and wrap an arm around you. 
Your brain does catch up, quicker than expected. “It seems like it’d be incredible. I applaud you cause I could never do that. I have stage fright.” 
He blinks up at you, “stage fright? Haven’t you done red carpet interviews and stuff?” 
You shift a little, shrugging, “well yes. But that’s different.” You can't stop the awkward laugh that comes out of you. It was true, it was different. You weren’t exactly sure why but it was. 
Eddie's thumb moves along your side slightly and it leaves goosebumps in its wake. 
“I’m being honest, the lights are so bright that I can’t see everyone in the crowds. Mainly just the front rows. Makes it easier.” 
Eddie puts his beer bottle on the ground by his feet before sitting up and grabbing a joint. He’s quiet as he lights it, puffing out smoke to get it going. “Want some?” 
He holds the joint towards you, waiting for your answer. You’ve done this before at the frat houses at college. You’ve done it here and there in high school as well. This is second nature, but this time you’re nervous. What if you forget how to inhale? What if you throw up? Any number of things can happen. 
Something happens inside you and your brain finally catches up to itself. A small stroke of confidence happens and without taking your eyes off of him, you lean forward, wrapping your lips around the joint and inhaling. His eyes stay locked on yours, his tongue wetting his lips. You pull back, slowly blowing out the smoke. 
“Fuckin’ hell.” It comes out in a whisper and you know he didn’t mean to say it out loud. His eyes falling from your eyes, to your lips and back again. 
God you want to kiss him. His pillowy lips would feel amazing against yours, you just know it. You start to lean into him, desperate to know if you’re right.   
A bang on the door scares the fuck out of the both of you and Eddies boot knocks over his bottle. It’s a good thing he drank most of it, the contents not spilling on the plush carpet. 
“Let’s get going guys. Put your dicks back in your pants, we have a show to do.” You know that voice, that’s their manager. He’s the one who called your people to make sure you had all the rules for this evening. 
Photos are fine. 
Everyone must be tagged. 
Nothing negative. 
Absolutely no photos of any white substances. Even if it’s sugar. 
That last one would be hard considering it was on every flat surface in neat, clean lines. 
You go to stand up, but Eddie stops you, his hand tightening on your hip. “Promise I’ll see ya after?” 
You nod, “y-yeah of course.” 
Before you know it, his lips are on yours. The kiss is soft, sweet and you don’t want it to end. In fact, you totally forget about all the other people in the room. Your hands find his face, pulling him closer as his tongue begs for permission. And once you grant it, it’s game over. 
He tastes like beer and weed and cigarettes and you love it. You want more. You want to get closer. 
But it’s not long before the door to his trailer opens up, his manager stepping into the bus. “I said get your dicks and tongues together. We cannot be late.” 
… 
By the time the show is over you barely have a voice, and you’re sure you’ve never been more turned on in your life. It might seem silly to say, but Eddie's kiss lingered the entire show and all you want is more. 
Back stage the band is still running on adrenaline, drinking water for once to try and refuel for the rest of the night. The rest of the night being a club that they frequent. A club you don’t go to because of that exact reason. 
“Ohhhhh! There's the prettiest girls I’ve ever laid eyes on!” Eddie's voice booms as security goes to double check you and Hana. “Hey! Leave them alone. They’re with me.” 
Security stands back, hands raise like he knows it’ll cause more issues if he doesn’t. You almost feel bad for the poor guy, he was just trying to do his job. Like what if you had a bomb or something? 
“C’mon we gotta get outta here.” He laces his fingers with yours before he pulls you along with him. You look over your shoulder, catching Hana's eyes. 
Go! She mouths, hanging off Gareth's arm. I’ll meet you there! 
And so, you go. Are you nervous? Yes absolutely. Are you going to pretend you aren’t and have some confidence? Yes. Fake it till you make it right?
Eddie opens the door to the car, extending a hand, “ladies first.” 
You grin at him as you elegantly slide into the car, “wow. I didn’t know you were such a gentle man.” This time when you giggle, it's cute and self assured. 
“Yes, I have been told my entire life that I look,” he slides in sucking in a soft, thinking breath, “mean and scary.” 
“You look like a doberman but they’re precious babies.” You mean it too. He looks a little mean and scary, especially in the red lights of the stage. Not to mention the “devil music” (says the media) which can get a little dark. But that’s what makes it great, in your opinion. Plus, he does look like doberman. Like he could probably kill you but would actually not? 
“‘Precious babies?’” 
You nod, “mhm! I grew up with them. Very sweet and love kisses. Oh! And they each had their own comfort toys.” 
“Then maybe I am one because I do love kisses.” He’s closer now, his breath fanning over your face. He still smells like beer and cigarettes mixed in with the smell of his cologne. 
It’s your turn to close the gap and planting your lips on his. The kiss is hotter, more intense. One could argue it’s because of the alcohol swimming in your system that makes you so bold. You’re buzzed, but not drunk. It isn’t long before his hands are in your hair, tugging. It makes you moan in his mouth, opening up to him. 
He sits back, his hands in your hair pulling you with him, making you sit in his lap. Your legs rest on either side of his hips, your cunt nestled right against the bulge in his pants. He couldn’t hide it even if he wanted to. You test the waters by rocking your hips, the friction being so sweet that you’re the one who lets out a moan. 
“God, that is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.” He kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking as he goes. “Should record it and use it in our next song.” 
You hum and grin, “I wouldn’t mind that. Always wanted to be in a song. Can’t sing though.”  
He nips at your ear, “that’s my job baby.” 
Eddie's large hand grips your hips, stopping your movements. You want to whine, you want to protest. You were so fucking close. 
“We’ll save that for when we're back at my place.” 
You grin and kiss along his jaw, “who says I’m going back to your place?” 
“The way you were just grindin’ against my cock, angel.” He grins, “also with how you’re lookin’ at me.” 
“And how am I looking at you? Hmm?” 
“Like you want me to fuck you while your brain leaks out your cunt.” 
You shudder at the crudeness of his words. No one has ever spoken to you like that and looked like him. The car stopping in front of the club saves you from trying to come up with an answer. One you know will either be embarrassing or non-existent. 
He looks over at the paparazzi that is waiting and sighs, “are we going in together or…” 
The decision you make is quick. If you’re going to do this, even for one night, you’re going to do it together and let them talk. You give him a quick kiss, “together. Give ‘em something to talk about, yeah?” 
So, you do. 
The second you’re out of the car, cameras flash and photographers call out a mix of your name and his and you can hardly understand what they’re saying. You don’t stop to pose, letting them only photograph you and him walking hand and hand. Give them crumbs as your manager says. Once you’re in the club, not even needing to show an ID or give a name. 
From there the night happens in a blur. The band has the VIP section where bottles of expensive liquor are brought over by women dressed in a bikini. You know how much all of this costs (more than you can afford that’s for sure) but you also know that all of this is on Eddie and the bands tab. He’s told you six times. 
So you drink. And you smoke. And you watch pretty white lines disappear, most of which disappear up Eddie's nose. Of course you take videos, vlogging your night and making sure to follow all the rules that were set prior to this meeting. Taking photos to remember the night. Hana is having a blast, taking shots like it’s her job and making out with Gareth in between. Of course she takes photos with you, sitting in your lap and giggling so much the photos come out blurry. But those are your favorite kinds of photos. 
“Dance with me?” Eddie says in your ear over the music. 
You take the shot that is in your hands, “lead the way.” 
The second you’re surrounded by sweaty bodies you feel invisible. You’re sure someone has cameras on you and him but at the moment you don’t care. 
Your hips move to the music, back against Eddie's chest while his hands explore your body. His lips move against your neck, sucking a dark mark into it that you know you’ll struggle to cover later. Again, you don’t care. What you do care about is the hardness that you feel against your back. 
You spin around, grinning up at him. God he’s so fucking tall you have to tilt your head up a good bit to look at him. 
“We should get out of here,” you say as he pulls you into him. 
He smirks, “thought you weren’t coming back to my place sweetheart.” 
“Seems I told a fib. Now, I need you to take me home and fuck me like you hate me.” 
It’s all he needs before he’s grabbing you by the hand and pulling you out of the club. The car is there and he quickly pulls you into the back seat. Once those doors are closed, the window tint so dark you couldn’t see inside if you tried, his mouth his on yours. Your stomach flips and the neediness you feel coming off of him. He pulls you till you’re straddling him, legs on either side of his hips. Not really the safest but at this point, all you need is his lips on you. 
The ride to Eddie’s consists of lots of kissing, so much so that you know your lips are swollen. You don’t get to see much of Eddie’s house, too focused on getting inside the house and into his bedroom. He drags you up the stairs, your hand is his. And once you’re in his room, he has you pressed up against his bedroom door. 
“You’re so fucking hot, baby.” Eddie pushes your jacket off your shoulders while he speaks, his words going straight to your clit. Your mind can barely comprehend that Eddie Munson, the man you’ve had a crush on since they were considered an ‘underground band,’ is currently taking off your clothes. 
You do the same to him, pushing his leather jacket to the ground before tugging at the ends of his shirt and pulling it over his head. “Me? You are so beautiful.” 
He hums, popping the button on your jeans, “should we take a poll on who's prettier? Winner takes the loser on a date?” 
That makes you laugh, “sounds like a deal. But first, you need to fuck me.” 
His eyes nearly go black at that and before you can think, he’s throwing you on this bed. You land with a small oomph. You decide to take a little initiative, pulling off your boots, scooting off your pants and pulling off your top. 
Eddie watches, rapt and almost possessed, his eyes scanning your partially naked body. It’s not anything more than someone would see if you posted in a bathing suit, but you can’t help but feel nervous that he isn’t going to like you. 
He quickly puts those fears (fears he knows nothing about) to rest as he settles between your legs. His eyes don’t leave yours as he kisses up your thighs. You know there is a wet patch on your underwear and you know he can see it. You do feel embarrassed about it, but at the same time, Eddie is slightly rutting against the bed so he must like it. Right? 
You can feel your body heat as he gets closer and closer to your center. 
“Eddie, please don’t tease me.” Never have you begged a man. Typically whoever you were in bed with did the begging, much to your dislike. You were desperate for someone to take charge. Now you know why they didn’t. One bruise and they get shit from all your followers. Even if you tell them to leave these men alone. 
But Eddie? He wasn’t afraid. 
“But it’s so much fun to watch you squirm.” 
You huff, squirming exactly like he said as he sits up to pull your underwear down your legs before setting back between them. “Need you to touch me.” 
He licks a stripe up your slit, sucking on your clit as he gets to the top. The sound that falls from your lips is beautiful, sweeter than the sound you made in the car. Now Eddie really wants to put you in a song, but the jealous, primal side of him never wants someone else to be able to hear your moans. 
In fact, he doesn’t want to think about any of the other men who’ve heard you make these sounds. Murder wasn't really on his list of things he enjoyed. Bar fights? Yes. Murder? No. 
“You make the prettiest sounds, sweetheart. S’very hot.”  He slides two fingers inside you with little resistance, curling them up to hit the spongy spot inside you. The stretch feels good, your hips moving on their own, riding Eddie's fingers. 
You're close, the build up of this moment really getting closer than you originally thought. “Squeezin’ my fingers so tight, baby. Are you close?” 
You nod, afraid if you speak you’ll say something ridiculous. 
But that isn’t good enough for Eddie. “Words.” 
“V-very.” 
That was clearly the wrong thing to say because he pulls his fingers from inside you, the emptiness making you gasp, “no! No, no, no I was so close!” 
He laughs as he pushes his pants and boxers off his body. “Exactly. Want you to cum with my cock inside you.” 
You look down between your bodies and your eyes widen. He was big and you accidentally voice what you’re thinking, “fuck… not gonna fit.” 
His laugh drags your eyes back to him, his cock moving through your slick and bumping your clit. “Baby you are so wet that I have no doubt it’ll fit.”  
You don’t have time to be embarrassed about it because Eddie is pushing inside you. The size of him stretching you makes you feel like he’s going to split you in half. But you don’t care, the burn just turns you on more and more and before you know it he’s seated inside you fully. 
“Fuck, Eddie.” 
Eddie is panting, trying to keep still so he doesn’t cum before he wants to. “Feel so fuckin’ good, sweetheart. A man could become obsessed with this pussy.” 
He moves right as you begin to speak, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs. He feels like he’s everywhere. “W-witchcraft” 
He fucks you harder, his cock hitting your cervix. You’re definitely going to have a bruise there but it's so worth it. 
“Didn’t know you were into dark shit. S’my schtick.” 
You wrap your legs around him, orgasm building again, “more alike than you originally thought huh?” 
He wraps a tattooed hand around your throat, squeezing gently and making your head spin, “oh, angel, I knew how alike we were the second you told everyone how bad you wanted to fuck me.” 
“C-can you blame me? Knew you’d fuck me just h-how I like.” 
You clench around him making him hiss, “yeah you need someone who will take control huh?” 
The hand around your neck slides down your body till he finds your clit, circling it. 
“Oh god! Please.” 
“I can get used to you prayin’ to me.” His thrusts are losing rhythm (something he’s usually very good at keeping) and you know he’s close. “Cum baby. I need it.” 
And it’s all you need to fall over the cliff and into bliss. He follows you, coming inside you while you squeeze around him. You both moan each other's names and you sigh as you come down. 
Eddie breaks the silence first, “that was… amazing.” 
You hum in agreement as he slides out of you and curls up beside you. You take a moment before getting up and cleaning up in the bathroom. When you come back Eddie has left out an old Corroded Coffin t-shirt and some boxers. And once they’re on, you slide back into his bed, laying your head on his chest.
“We should put that poll up, huh? I’m itching to win this bet.” Eddie laughs as he says it and before you know it, you two are finding a photo the both of you like and posting it on your story with the caption, ‘which one is prettier? Honesty is the best policy.’ 
“And now… we wait.”
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zeltqz · 7 months
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— ✭ — 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐄 𝐔𝐏 — ✭ —
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-> SUMMARY. satoru's smart in many things, but when it comes to dating and relationships, he's lacking that intellect. somehow he expects you to always be there for him to patch him up.
-> pairing : gojo!satoru x nurse!reader
-> length: 5.7k
-> tags. nsfw+18 content, injuries (mentions of bruises, cuts and scratches), implied beef with suguru (i shall not be elaborating further lol), medical practices; stitches etc, gojo is fucking annoying lol, love him though, reader is going to grow grey hairs bc of him, implied fwb relationship, satoru ghosts reader for five months (not his proudest moment but plz giv him a chance), marks during sex, blood mentions, unsafe sex, creampie, nicknames
-> a/n: im currently having a gojo brain rot. its not funny and this is a cry for help. ps i have no clue how to do any medical practices so if you notice some things are off just...shh.... 🤫
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Satoru strolled through the clinic doors, his shirt rumpled and stained with remnants of blood. From the corner of his eye, he caught the sight of an older woman clutching her purse and just opposite her, a mother grabbed her kids closer towards her and away from him. 
Ignoring them was easy, after all he was here for one thing and one thing only. He approached the front desk and the nurse behind the counter was tapping at her keyboard, head tilted towards her shoulder to balance her phone. 
“Ah okay, gotcha. Your appointment is scheduled for next Tuesday. See you next week sir!” she said enthusiastically before hanging up and looking up at Satoru. “Hi, how can I help you toda—”
Her eyes widened as she met his gaze. Satoru rested his elbows on the surface and smiled back at her. 
“Hey! Is (Name) working tonight?” He didn’t even get the question out fully before craning his neck to peek past the doors reserved for the nurses.
She hesitated for a moment, wondering if you’ll be mad if she answered truthfully. It was conflicting for her. She’s fully aware of your brief relationship with Satoru. Hell, all the nurses were somewhat intrigued and aware to an extent. The extent being you refused to tell them any personal details of the matter. The only things they knew was when you’d suddenly get a text on your phone and the next five minutes you were leaving early, you were with Satoru.
But that was months ago. 
His frequent visits and texts started declining over the last few months and by the lack of Satoru written all over your face and phone, they all just assumed you stopped seeing each other. 
Satoru examined her hesitation and came to a conclusion. “Ah. She is, isn’t she? So, where is she? The back?” He tried to sneak another look past the small vertical window allocated on the wooden door to get a glimpse of your hair or anything before the nurse stood up. 
She wasn’t tall by any means, but with the way Satoru was hunched, it lowered his magnificent height to something more manageable and she was able to block his view with her head. “You’re not allowed to look inside there.”
“Then stop wasting my time and tell me if she’s here.” His eyes flashed momentarily as he started to get pissed and it was enough for her knees to buckle and give way, dropping her successfully back onto her seat.
“S—she’s not—” 
Before she could even finish her lie, the sound of a door opening from down the hallway caught everyone’s attention. An elderly lady walked out of the room, holding a walking stick and a grateful smile on her face. Once she got a reasonable distance out of the room, she turned around to face you and bowed, thanking you for the help.
You held onto her and helped her down the hallway a bit before letting go and leaning against the wall, arms crossed and a satisfied smile on your lips as you watched her walk at a slow but steady pace. Her hand stopped trembling as much against the stick and you were just happy she was slowly improving. 
It wasn’t until you looked past the elderly woman’s head did you notice Satoru himself, hunched over the reception. Your fellow nurse looked at you guilty before sighing. 
Satoru stood up straight once he met your eye. 
“Oh hell no,” you muttered under your breath and quickly darted back inside the room.
It’s unfortunate you’re messing with Satoru Gojo of all people because he was faster than you and crossed the distance in the hallway before you managed to lock the door behind you.
You did however, manage to get it shut and used it to your advantage and pressed your back against it. 
Satoru sighed, the sound smooth and honeyed, knocking gently on the door’s window with his knuckles. “Lemme in. I’m injured, you know?”
You couldn’t help but feel flattered that he was only acting with you, pretending to give you the choice of helping him or not because you both knew he could easily have this door open in seconds and you’d probably be flying across the room if he had his way.
“That’s got nothing to do with me, Gojo. Please leave and make an appointment. If you need an impromptu surgery, please find a hospital. Not a clinic.”
“But you’re the best nurse,” he said, pouting.
You rolled your eyes. Yeah right. If anything they were all better than you. You only started working here recently, having a few months experience compared to years. The first time you gave him stitches, you had pierced him full of holes so much that he was even surprised he had a drop of blood left inside him, but he kept healing himself so you barely noticed the damages.
Another thing about Satoru.
He doesn’t actually get injuried. His injuries are nothing but an illusion he creates to get close to you. All the times he came in battered and bruised, nothing was real and if they were, they didn’t hurt one bit. But it didn’t help that he was such a good, charming actor that you couldn’t help but fall for his little game every time.
“I’m not the best nurse, Gojo. Now for the second time, if you need treatment, go to a hospital or make an appointment.”
“Gojo?” he questioned, sounding utterly confused. At first, he thought the sudden use of his last name was just a fluke on your end. But twice in a row? Nah, he’ll wait to see if you use it one more time before making a judgement.
“Yes. Isn’t that your name? Now are you going to a hospital or not Gojo? Us nurses have actual patients to attend t—”
The door was pushed open easily and he walked inside without a care in the world as you fought back the childish urge inside you to not stomp your feet on the floor and throw a tantrum. 
Satoru stood tall over you and it wasn’t until the ceiling light hit his face that you finally noticed the scratches on his face and cut on his lip. They weren’t hospital level serious but you couldn’t help but feel worried at the sight of seeing him hurt.
“What the hell happened to you?” There was no malice in the question, your voice filled with nothing but concern.
He shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck, laughing awkwardly. “Got into a bit of trouble,” he said with a chuckle, scratching his messy hair.
You scowled and shook your head before holding his face in your hands to examine the damages. “This looks…managable.” You pull away after close examination and begin removing your gloves. “The nurse in room 405 upstairs can help with that cut.”
You turned around to throw the gloves in the bin and wished you saw the look on Satoru’s face as his smile fell at your words.
“That’s nice and all but I was hoping you’d help me with it. You know? For old times sake, yeah?”
“Definitely not .” 
“Why no—”
You turned around and poked him in his chest, hard, unaware of the big bruise under his shirt. 
“You ignored me for weeks! Not even weeks actually. Months! And now you think you can just waltz in and take advantage of my services? You’re so—” You stopped yourself when you felt yourself getting angrier and took a deep breath, taking a few steps backwards create some distance between you and Satoru.
Inside, you hated to admit you actually liked Satoru and grew fond of him. You weren’t one to usually let people into your hearts but he was an exception, and he just vanished. 
The first week was okay, you didn’t mind. After all the two of you were spending way too much time together on a daily basis so maybe he just needed some space? 
The second week, you were also…kind of okay with it? It’s a dramatic change to go from seeing and talking to someone everyday to suddenly have two weeks no contact. It was lonely but you just chalked it up to him being busy.
By a month it was just getting ridiculous at that point. Third month? You were pissed and swore up and down if you saw him around in public you’d claw his face out with your scalpels. 
Fifth month you had convinced yourself you had moved on. You blocked his number on everything and made sure he had no ways of contacting you ever, despite the fact you knew deep down you missed his touch, his kisses, his words, his voice, his dic—
“I’m sorry about that. I’m a busy man, you know?”
“It’s always ‘you know this’, ‘you know that’. Fuck —” You dug the heels of your palms in your eyes out of sheer frustration. “I don’t know anything because you can’t communicate with me! You were too busy? Busy?! Too busy that you couldn’t even open your phone and I don’t know, call me?! Text me?! I think even an email at that point would’ve made me satisfied. Not just radio silence Satoru .”
This time when you said his first name, it was filled with such emotion behind it. He could feel it from where he stood. You tried to keep your face as casual as possible but the eventual twitch of your bottom lip gave you away. 
“I know baby. I’m so sorry.” He took a step forward and tested his luck. You didn’t push him away or tell him to leave you alone, so he engulfed his arms around you, wrapping you into his chest. 
You refused to hug him back, standing eerily still as your face was suffocated between his chest. The scent of him was so strong that it almost made you tear up. Five months. Five fucking months of no Satoru was enough to drive you mad. You were so touch starved that you physically had to strain your arms in order to keep them at your side and stop them from wrapping around his waist.
“I’m so sorry baby. I mean that. I didn’t mean for things to get this far,” he murmured into your hair, holding you so softly almost as if you’re delicate. “But I’m here now, okay. Always.” 
He was met with silence. 
“Baby?” His heart skips thrice in his chest when he realises your hand rose to the front of his shirt, gripping the fabric for dear life as you tried to fight back tears.
Crying in front of people wasn’t something you normally did, almost hiding it late at night in the comfort of under your bedsheets. The tears were always so easy to flow freely during those times, but now it felt like your eyes were hot and stinging and you couldn’t control them anymore.
With his hand on the back of your neck, he slowly pulled your face away from his chest and lifted your chin to look up at him.
You were a silent crier thank god; the mere thought of you ugly sobbing and sniffing in front of Satoru made you want to end it all. He pouted and wiped your eyes with his sleeve. 
“Wow, I really had an impact on you didn’t I? Interesting,” he hummed.
Your eyebrows furrowed. “Fuck you.” You pulled away first and stomped over to grab some tissues. “I’ll wipe my damn face. I don’t need you.”
“You do need me though.” He pointed to the wet patch on his white shirt. “Clear proof!”
Now that your eyes are dry enough to see clearly again, your eyes wandered around the room, looking for something you could throw at Satoru’s head to knock his brain back into place. Your hands twitched into fists as you tried to control yourself again. 
Satoru noticed. “You know I knew you’d be mad at me which is why I got myself all beat up so you could poke needles into my skin.” Then,  he sighed, long and dramatically. “And people say I’m not thoughtful.”
“You’re not thoughtful. You’re an idiot with no common sense at all.”
“How else was I supposed to see you again?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Maybe call me?” You paused, remembering you blocked him. “You could’ve just come and seen me. You know, without getting yourself all battered? You can never think like a normal human I swear to God.”
That was what you loved about him though, his carelessness and recklessness. It only added to the excitement you felt when you were with him and the fact you knew whatever he did there’d be no consequences because he was the strongest and rules don’t even apply to him.
But Satoru doesn’t need to know all that.
Satoru scrunched his nose at your idea and shook his head. “Ehhhh I dunno. Too boring. This,” he alternated pointing his finger between the both of you, “is much better though.” 
You rolled your eyes. “Get on the bed before I change my mind.”
“Yes ma’am!” He strolled over towards the patient bed and sat down, kicking his legs as he stripped off his shirt. By the time you turned around to face him with the supplies you needed, you almost dropped them all. 
There was a huge bruise on his chest followed by more cuts and scratches running all down his chest. 
“Gojo! Who the fuck did you fight?!” Your mouth dropped open at the sight, pure concern written all over your features.
His eyebrows furrowed a little. “Satoru*,” he corrects, looking salty. When you didn’t waver, waiting for a response, he sighed again. “It doesn’t really matter who I fought. Just come on, patch me up,” he ordered, smiling boldly at you.
“Don’t tell me what to do. Answer the question Go—Satoru.” 
He smiled triumphantly at your words. “Suguru.”
It was almost amusing to him to watch you file the name and process it. It definitely sounded familiar, but you spent the last five months erasing everything Satoru related from your mind, so it took a little longer than usual to remember. But eventually you remembered who Suguru was and gasped. 
“Suguru?! What—why?!”
He shrugged and you could tell he really didn’t want to talk about it. “He just…did somethings that pissed me off so we fought.” He looked unusually serious for a moment and you could tell something deeper than that happened, but you weren’t here to be his therapist. So you didn’t pry.
“Okay. Well…” 
He waved your sentence off flippantly. “Don’t wanna talk about it. Seriously. Move on and fix me.”
“You’re not in the position to have an attitude right now Satoru. I can leave right now and have another nurse here to do this for you.”
That shut him up for a bit and you smiled in triumph that he was able to shut up for once. 
His eyes were on you the entire time. You grabbed a cotton ball and applied alcohol to it, dabbing away at the cuts gently before beginning to stitch him up. He winced at the sting of the needle going in and you looked up at him, concerned.
“It hurts?”
“Nah. Just uncomfortable. Keep going,” he responded, giving you the okay.
With his approval, you continued with his stitches and everything was going just fine. You didn’t feel as overwhelmed with the close proximity as much as you thought you would’ve. But the second you finished up with his chest and moved onto his face, you realised you might not be able to do this.
His eyes were trained on your face the entire time and they were so intense to look at. He grinned when he noticed you pause for a moment, as if trying to keep all your focus away from his distracting stare and you wanted to stuff the ball of cotton into his mouth to wipe his smug smile off his face. 
The bed was near the end of the room, meaning the light didn’t hit it as well as it should’ve, making it harder to see. So you had no other choice but hold his face up by his chin and continue dabbing alcohol on his cuts. You could see his eyes dart all over your face, from your nose, mouth, eyes, and everything you shifted backwards to grab something, those eyes of his followed.
His eyes lingered on your lips the longest, and in the silence of the room you swore the sound of your heart beating was loud enough for him to hear.
“Stop staring at me,” you said, pausing your movements.
“You nervous?”
“No. It’s just distracting.” You wiped some dried blood from his cheeks with a wet wipe.
“Not a bad thing to be distracted, Doc.” 
“It is in my profession, Satoru.”
Standing this close to Satoru had its pros and cons. On your end, it was easier and quicker to fix him up being this close and you were able to see and hold his pretty face. But he was also a major distraction, making your first point render useless as you couldn’t get the job done regardless if he kept looking at you like that.
For Satoru though, you standing this close to him was only benefiting him. He could see every inch of your face this close and if he really wanted to, could trail his hands down the backs of your thighs and onto your hips. If he really wanted to though.
“Okay. I see your point,” he hummed. “Distractions aren’t necessarily a good thing. But…”
“No buts! Fuck, you’re so annoying.” You pulled away to grip at your hair, wondering if you were truly frustrated enough to rip your hair out. You’ll probably regret it in the morning so you refrain from the thought.
“Would you think it’d be annoying if I kissed you right now?”
“Yes,” you responded back without waiting a beat. “Don’t even think about it.” You went back to work, tilting his head tot he side to see if there’s anymore damage to assess.
He took advantage of your focused state to lean in closer. “You sure?” His nose brushed yours and you couldn’t find it in yourself to pull away. 
You cleared your throat and jerked your head over to the camera on the ceiling near the end of the room. Satoru looked away from you for a moment to look at it. 
“Nice try though,” you said with a smirk. There was no more damage to his face, he was all stitched up and his cuts were cleaned. “All done. You can go home now.”
You stepped away from  him and let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. It was so intense being that close to him, your lungs actually felt peace the moment you were away. 
“Alright. Let’s go.” He stood up, shrugging his shirt back on.
You turned around and looked at him in confusion. “Let’s go? I’m not going anywhere.”
“You gotta walk me to my car. What if I fall and seriously injure myself?” He put his finger on his chin, deeply thoughtful.
Your face deadpanned. “If you were good enough to drive here, then you can walk yourself to your car. I’m not an escort.”
“What time do you get off?” he asked, ignoring your previous sentence.
“I dunno. Maybe midnight? Something around that.”
He pulled out his phone from his pocket and checked the time. Almost eleven p.m. “Alright. I’ll wait for you.” 
“What?! No.” You rubbed your forehead in annoyance. This dude was giving you a migraine. “Please just go home. I have my own way home already.”
“What. The bus?”
You hated his tone. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Why go on that thing when you could drive with me? You used to love my car you know?”
The fact that he was throwing what you used to be in your face like he wasn’t the one to ruin it made you angry. “And how many months ago was that, Satoru? I’ve moved on.”
“Yeah yeah.” He laced his hands behind his head and began to walk out. “We’ll see.” The door closed behind him and you stood in the room for a moment wondering if he actually left. 
It felt too good to be true. But after two minutes, you went out into the hallway and saw he was nowhere to be seen. With that in mind, you were able to finish working and leave on time, briefly ignoring your fellow nurses questions about what Satoru wanted.
By the time you exited the clinic, changed out of your nurse scrubs and back in your casual attire, you were on your way to the bus stop down the street when you saw the only car left in the parking lot was still there.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” You hated how you could see Satoru’s white hair in the drivers seat, his head hung low as he looked at his phone. He was distracted and this was your chance to make an escape for the bus stop without him noticing.
You managed to make it out of the car park and on the way to the bus stop in peace, earbuds in your ears with music playing softly. But that wasn’t enough to stop the loud honk of a car beside you. He was driving beside you at a slow pace with the passenger side of the door wide open.
So careless.
He had it wide open as if he knew you’d get in.
So conceited.
Part of you wondered if you made a run for it, would he speed up and eventually have the door hit a pole? The thought of that made you laugh but you came to a stop and looked at him. 
“Your door is open.” You stared blankly at him, stating the obvious.
He acted surprised and gasped as if the revelation shocked him. “Really? Wow. Maybe you should get in so I can close it?”
You looked at the bus stop which was only down the road. It’ll take 45 seconds max to reach it. But you could practically feel the warmth radiating from the inside of his car and fell to temptation. 
He grinned wide as you stripped your bag off your shoulders and slid into the passenger seat, slamming the door behind you. “Atta girl,” he commented before speeding off.
It took everything in you to not glance over at him the entire ride. Something itching deep inside you that made you just want to peek at him once, but you knew he’d never shut up if he caught your attempts. He’d probably go on a long ramble about how he’s not surprised you couldn’t get enough of his pretty face and the thought made you want to gouge your eyes out. 
Instead, you decided to peek out the window and try get a glimpse from his reflection. The car was speeding past so many streetlights at once making it somewhat easier to grab a solid reflection. 
Staring at Satoru driving was one of your favourite things back then. He always looked so calm, one of those rare moments when his face wasn’t fixed in a smirk. His face was relaxed and he’d keep his pure attention on nothing but the road. Of course that made you determined to see what you could do to break that concentration, like holding his spare hand that wasn’t on the wheel, playing with his fingers and rings, or even (in the severe cases) going down on him just to hear him groan whilst struggling to maintain that concentration.
You knew deep down Satoru would never let the car crash, so it allowed the both of you to be reckless. A smile fixed on your face as you remembered those moments and before you knew it, the car came to a stop.
Outside his house.
“And we’re here!” He stopped the car engine but kept the lights on, allowing him to look at you better and man, your reaction was worth it.
“Huh? This isn’t my house Satoru.”
“It’s not?” He looked around before gasping. “Oops. Guess you’ll have to stay the night then.”
Ten seconds passed where you both just stared at each other, not speaking, just the sound of the crickets outside adding to the awkward silence. 
“I’m walking home.” You grabbed your bag and made a move to exit the car before he locked the doors. You struggled with the door handle for a second before glaring at him. “Open it.”
He sighed, loud and bratty; practically throwing his head back against the headrest. “Can’t you see I’m trying here? What else do you want me to do man?”
“Maybe leave me alone, Satoru. It’s been five months. You clearly wanted nothing to do with me, now I’m returning the favour.”
“That’s not it though. Just…fuck. Please? Give me a chance.”
You shifted in your seat until you were sitting down again, looking dead straight at your hand in your lap as you began thinking. “...why now Satoru? Why today of all days? Why five months later, when I already let everything out of my system. Why did you choose to come back now when you had so many chances?”
He shifted forward, resting an arm on the steering wheel and resting his forehead against it. He shrugged. 
“Honestly I don’t know. I just…didn’t think things through I guess until it was too late. At first, I was scared. I was spending too much time with you and it wasn’t like me. The anxious feeling I felt was because I was experiencing these new feelings because of you.  So as a deflection, I stupidly convinced myself that you were busy, being a nurse and all and that was enough conviction I needed to convince myself to stop texting you, waiting for you to make the first move. You never did though, so I assumed you genuinely were busy. So I waited. And waited. And waited…but you never texted back. Then the fear I was feeling initially was just me coming to terms to the fact that…I liked you. But by the time it took me to realise, I found out I was blocked.” 
He sighed again and sat back upright, resting his head against the headrest again and looked up at the car ceiling. “I deserved that block though. It only hit me that I actually ghosted you five months later. And I am sorry for that.” He tilted his head to the side and looked at you, deadly serious. “But it never would’ve escalated this far if you just texted me first.”
“There’s no way you’re blaming this on me right now.” 
“I’m not. I just—fuck.” He pulled at his hair and sighed. “You’re right I’m sorry.” He flopped his head back against the car and reached his hand out over towards you. 
You hesitantly grabbed onto it and he rubbed his thumb along your skin, holding your hand tight. “You forgive me yet?” He raised your hand to his lips and pressed kisses against your knuckles, giving you goosebumps. 
You sat upright and leaned closer towards him, holding the side of his face in your palm before planting a kiss on his lips. It was short and to the point before you pulled away. “That answer your question?”
He looked at you for a moment before you closing the distance again, alternating between slow, sensual kisses and sucking your lower lip. You scramble out of your seat and he’s eager to lift you up and plop you down on his lap. 
Your hands laced between his hair as you pressed your entire body against him. His hands on your body caressed every inch of skin he could grasp, digging his nails into your waist as your tongue invaded his mouth. He winced when you went to undo his buttons and you pulled away, remembering his injuries.
“Oh my god. I’m so sorry ‘Toru.”
He chuckled. “Nah, it’s not a problem.” He couldn’t help himself and pecked your lips again to wash away your concern. “In fact wait.” He unlocked the car doors and told you to get out. He grabbed your things for you and held onto your hand, leading you into his house.
Your bag, his things ended up scattered on his living room floor as he carried you up to his bedroom. You were laid flat on his comfy bed, head rested against his soft pillows as he hovered on top of you, keeping a little gap between both your chests to avoid further pains.
You graciously accepted him with open legs, locking them around his waist as he kissed you as passionately as he could. His fingers roamed all over your skin, peeling your clothes away and examining your body, naked and vulnerable beneath him.
The two of you barely spoke the whole time, too busy focusing all your energy into just enjoying the moment, the feeling of your lips against each others, the slide of your hands down his back, the caress of his hands along your waist. 
His lips attached to your neck like a leech, sucking until the blood rushed to the surface as his fingers went rampant between your legs, fucking in and out of your wet pussy, his thumb circling your clit. 
Your moans were heaven to his ears. He couldn’t wait to see your eyes cross when he sinks into your pussy. The image stayed in his mind as he quickly pulled his fingers out and switched your positions. He laid flat on his back and adjusted you on his lap.
You reached behind yourself to grab at his hard cock and pumped it a few times before shifting it underneath you. His cock slipped into you easily but the rest was hard, sinking down was painful, his cock carving its way into your pussy. 
You had an iron grip on his arm as he held your hips, your nails digging and leaving marks into his flesh. It hurt but it hurt so good. Satoru rolled his hips up to help you sink down, each roll pushing his cock further inside. It took longer than it should’ve for him to bottom out, but the second he did, you collapsed on his chest.
He winced again but the pain was worth it. Your arms wound around his neck and he began rocking you back and forth against his cock. 
“That feel good?” he questioned, his voice right beside your ear sending tingles down your spine.
“Mhm-mhm.” You bit your lip hard before sitting upright, resting your arms against the headboard for balance as you created your own rhythm. His chest was too injured for you to hold onto it, so the headboard was the next best bet. 
He hissed when you started bouncing like your life depended on it, his grip on your hips and waist becoming even tighter. “Fuck— don’t stop,” he gritted out, low grunts spilling from his lips.
His breathing got heavier as you sped up, grinding your body above him in any direction you could, desperate to feel more of him inside you. He moaned loudly in your ear and the next thing you knew, your world was being flipped. 
Injuries aside, that didn’t stop Satoru from flipping you onto your back, his cock still nestled inside you and starting off a brutal pace, slamming his hips against yours. The bed kept smacking against the wall with each thrust. His hands had a death like grip on your hips, keeping you pinned down to make sure you take everything he’s giving you.
Your nails dug painfully into his shoulder blades, not able to do anything but just scream litanies of curses and his name as you felt yourself getting closer. 
“C’mon, please, fuck me Satoru—I’m ah—’m so close ‘Toru please,” you begged, bringing him down for another kiss. You bit at his lip before sucking the length of his tongue, a move that you remember drove him crazy.
“Scratch me,” he whispers against your lips, removing his hands from your hips to rest beside your head, keeping him upright. “Mark me baby I know you can do it.”
Your hands reach towards his back and drag your nails along his flesh. It stung so bad but he didn’t care. He wanted to feel it, feel every emotion pent up inside you for months and left as a red line on his back. He wanted it to scar, wanted it to be a reminder whenever  he looked in the mirror that you left that on him. That you were his now. 
The thought had him speeding up, plowing your body into the matress; your nails kept scratching, some lines even drawing blood with how deep you scratched. You reached a hand up to his hair and tugged and he lost it.
His hips stuttered inside you and his cock began to leak before he could even process what was going on. He didn’t stop steadily fucking into you as you came on his cock, as his cum began to fill your insides. 
He thrusted one more final time before his arms gave out, collapsing on top of you. His weight was more than you could bear, but that didn’t stop you from holding him as tight as you could. Your fingers ran through his hair, scratching lightly as his undercut as he took the time to catch his breath.
A minute later he was shifting off you, rolling onto the spot beside you before wincing again, the scratching on his back far too sensitive. 
You told him to sit up and then gasped when you witnessed how much damage you did. “Oh my god.”
“What? What?”
You pointed over to the mirror inside his bathroom and he slid off the bed and walked towards it, examining the marks on his back. You followed shortly after, standing behind him and watching as he kept wincing when he tried to touch it. 
“I’m so sorry—I didn’t—I need to cut my nails.”
He shook his head and rested his forehead against yours, looking down at you and smiling. “It’s nothing a nurse can’t handle.” He winked at before pecking your lips.
A few hours ago, the idea of patching Satoru up was enough to leave you grumpy for a day, but now it fills you with excitement. 
You can’t wait.
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