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#and if one day you find there is no angry man in the house / you will go find him and invite him in' of it all
loverboyromanroy · 2 years
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the roy family + "anthem" by noah hawley
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ridingthatd · 3 months
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❝ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 ❞
nanami, geto, toji, gojo, choso, sukuna, etc...
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+18, nsfw, heavy smut, fisting, heavy kink, heavy breeding kink, filthiness, dirty, squirting, cumslut, osonomia, fucking while sleeping, fucking till you pass out, ass eating, spit kink, pissing, pet play, angry sex, rough sex, sex toys (pumper, vibrator, etc..), baby-trap, multiple orgasm, daddy kink, cumdump.
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𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎
nanami was a pervert. he indeed was, at first kento tried to deny it- he tried to deny the attraction he had toward you. his step daughter. he tried to deny the way his fat cock would leak through his pants every time he sees you walking around the house with your little pajamas shorts. he tried to deny the way the memory of your sweet scent had him stroking his throbbing cock every morning before work till he spills his warm cum on the shower walls.
but he couldn't deny it when he kneels next to the kitchen chair that you just sat on, when he press his face against the seat- it was warm, warm indicating that it wasn't long ago since your pretty little ass sat here. nanami groans, he huffs as he palms his cock, sniffing the seat with each stroke, his eyes rolling back at the fresh scent of yours. your plumpy delicious ass was sat there. his step daughters ass was sat there- he repeats in his mind, eyes rolling back his skull as he dreams about you sitting on his face instead.
as he dreams about eating your plumpy ass, slurping, licking your wetness. just one lick- his wet tongue peak out, licking the seat- the seat your ass sat on. he sloppily move his tongue against the fabric of the chair, drooling as he thinks about the taste of pussy juice- the taste of your ass. his spit was coating the seat, but he could careless as his hips shudder and his cum leak through the fabric of his pants.
he couldn't deny it when his eyes would sneak glances at the laundry his wife place outside to dry. his eyes focusing on the slutty little thongs of his step daughter. kento couldn't help the way he would steal one of your panties- one would turn into two. he couldn't help the way he went from stealing your fresh cleaned panties, to your used filthy ones. sneaking into the washing machine and digging in looking through the dirty laundry basket for your panties. his mouth drooling once he finds one- sniffing it, licking it making sure to coat it with his boiling seeds.
it felt dirty. filthy. the sexual attraction you had with your step dad, nothing was more filthy than the sneaky touchs, the sneaky glances kento would give you. his rough hands would make their way under the dinner table as your mom was distracted serving whatever she cooked for the day. you can feel the heatness of his hand slipping inside your booty shorts pajamas, just to give your clit a pinch through your panties. keeping a straight face as he blows out the smoke of his cigarette.
even if you're sitting on the opposite side of him at the dinner table- the table wasn't big enough to save you from him. he would go as far as man spreading his thick long legs till the front of his knees brush against your throbbing pussy. humping his knees against it, his jaw clenching hard as he feels the way you're gushing all over his leg, your juice slipping into the kitchen chair. making a mess, he wouldn't stop till there's tears building up in eyes. he wouldn't stop till you're so close to squirting, not caring that your mom is a foot away.
you and your step dad nanami, never really had any alone time expect the days his wife would go out with her friends so you always make sure to get the most out of it. kento wouldn't immediately lunch at you, suckling on your tongue sloppily the only sound that filled the house was the wet noises of your wet kiss. "fucking slut teasing your daddy like that yea? you wanted it this bad walking around with no panties on?" he growls next to your ear as he feels your bare pussy under your skirt.
you whine swaying your hips against his hard cock, your hands reaching to your pussy to remove the plug he made you wear but kento immediately beat you to it, shoving your hand away causing you to whimper. "no, no my little baby isn't gonna get daddies cock inside of her pussy today" he mutters placing wet kisses against your neck from behind, as he stroke his cock against your sensitive clit.
"daddy is gonna use the sweet little ass of yours" he whispers into your ear. before you had time to process what he said. kento tear through your ass, shoving his huge cock in one thrust, groaning at the way your ass hole immediately suck him in. your eyes cross, body shaking before you completely see black- passing out.
but that doesn't step nanami, as he use your body like a ragdoll, holding your leg up side way, while he slams you repeatedly into his fat cock. "aww my little baby couldn't handle it" he groans, pinching your nipples hard between his fingers. causing you to bludge away, sobbing from the overwhelming pain and pleasure that shoots through you.
"daddy-! ah! please no more! no more!" you choke on your sobs, clawing your nails against his biceps. but nanami only seems to enjoy the sting of your nails because he goes Inhumenly faster. your tits were bouncing everywhere.
"im gonna paint the little ass of your white" kento groans, his huge hand Involding your entire face, grabbing it to face him and shove his tongue past your lips. ringing the bell door sound was heard by the house door, indicating your mom was here.
that seems to send both of you to the edge, the filthy feeling of getting caught fucking his step daughter, had him empty his balls inside of your tight hole. the filthy feeling of getting caught fucking your step dad, had you squirting all over his abs, your juice dripping down his balls.
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𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 / 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
gojo and geto were twins, no body believed them when they said that. they don't blame them though. gojo having a white hair and light blue eyes was quite the opposite of getos dark hair and black eyes. they were quite the opposite personality wise too, since you knew them for a very long time. being their bff, you learned that gojo was the teasingly playful one. while geto was more of the quite one silently observing everything.
having a sleep over won't be this bad, right? at least this is what you thought. gojo and his brother geto had completely other plans. sleeping on the bed with geto on your right side and gojo on your left side wasn't your best idea. geto never felt this way, he was fuming at the mouth like a dog in heat, his cock leaking through the fabric of his boxer, his body was overwhelmed with excitement, pleasure as he lays down so close to you.
he can feel your body heatness, his cock keeps twitching, so eager to breed you, so ready to fill you. gojo was the first one to make his move. he hover his body over you from behind, placing his cock between your perky butt cheeks. his hot breath, fanning against your ear before he takes your ear lobe into his wet mouth, sloppily suckling on it. his whole body shudder as he slowly lifts up your nightgown.
"fuck, what a fucking slut" geto groans as he catch a glimpse of your bare pussy under the cover of the blanket once gojo lifts your nightgown. he slowly gets closer to your body just like his twin, his heart beating loudly through his chest as his fingers pull the string of your nightgown down revealing your swollen, plumpy tits. his mouth was watering looking at your hard nipples, itching to suckle on them like a new born baby.
gojo was busy lapping into your cute little ears, he always wanted to taste them, his spit was covering every inch of it, but he couldn't get enough as he keeps suckling. while his cock rested between your ass cheeks, twitching, and making a mess. he slips his hands down your belly till he reachs your puffy clit while you sleep soundly, while his brother gropes your tits, filling his huge hands with them. he starts purring like a cat, kneading your tits.
gojo free his cock out of his boxer, and place it between your soft ass cheeks, his eyes cross at the feeling of having the soft skin of your little ass that he's been dreaming of. it was enveloping his fat cock, as he slippery starts rutting his hips.
geto was to lost in your tits as he suckle on your nipples, he unconsciously starts humping against your thick thighs, they were getting rougher and rougher not caring if they wake you up or get caught. satoru whines low in his throat, biting the inside of his cheek as the top of his cock begins rubbing against your bare lips with the drag of his hips.
that causes geto to pump his hips faster. he rocked against your slippery thighs enveloping his throbbing dick. your pussy and thighs are slick with his and satoru’s precome. gojo feels himself leaking all over you as he continues to roll his hips. breathy whines slip from his lips and he does his best to muffle them by taking your earlobe inside his mouth.
"what-" your voice mutters as you stare eyes wide open at the twins. but your words were soon cut off as both of them slip their fat cocks into your pussy, rotting in with one thrust. their cocks ripping through you as they start groaning at how tight you are. clenching around their cock coating it with the gushing juice that's coming out of you and drenching the sheets.
it was your pee- you pee all over the bed, and their cocks from how over whelmed with pleasure you were. gojo was breathless. his thighs are already trembling, sweat beading on his forehead, and his toes curling at the pleasure that shoots up his spine from the feeling of your dirty pee coating his cock and spilling from his balls down to the sheets.
geto whines— he whines; a sound he didn’t know he was even capable of, before he spills inside of you, still rocking his hips against you, while he can feel gojos cock that was still inside of you rubbing against his own cock.
gojo soon enough follow his twin, he burries his face into the crook of your neck before the tip of his cock hit your womb one last time and it was his time to fill you to the peak.
they stay inside of you, their leaking cocks being hard again while you lay down to fucked out to even recover from whateved happened, gojo runs his finger down your belly all he can think about is weither the baby is going to look like or him or geto.
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𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
leaving him? it was so cute that a thought like this even came across your mind. toji grins as he unlock the door of the apartment you were supposedly staying in "away" from him.
he makes his way inside your apartment his cock instantly harding as the scent of you envelop his nose. he's going to make sure you pay for leaving him this way, toji ears perk up as he hears the shower water running indicating that you're in the bathroom.
he smirks as he makes his way toward the bedroom, his eyes darken as they land on your panties and cloth that was scattered around your room. he gets a hold of your cute little panties between his hand and he immediately place it close to his nose, inhaling the fresh scent of your pussy.
he's going to make you pay for keeping his sweet little pussy away from him for this long. his eyes catch something, there was a toy placed on your desk night- a red vibrator. oh you were in deep trouble, letting this pathetic little toy touch your pussy, make you orgasm knowing full well you're not allowed to cum around anything but his fat cock.
toji holds the toy close to his mouth, before his red pierced tongue peak out and lick the left saltiness of your wetness. his eyes roll back, you almost had him fucking cum in his pants from the taste of this wet pussy that you have kept away from him for a week. he's going to make you pay.
this is how you ended up here. your upper body is fully pressed against the foggy glass of the shower, warm water dripping down your body as tojis fat cock fills you in. your tits were completely smashed against the glass, while your face was pressed against his mouth as he groans against you.
"yea? you can't last without my cock?" he mutters against you slamming his cock into your tight pussy, you're starting to see white spots. you missed his cock so much, toji hands sneak in to grab your nipples that had missed suckling on, he squeeze them hard between his rough fingers.
tojis eyes widen as he stares at the white warm liquid that squirts out of your nipples, landing on the glass wall of the shower. your body shake- you knew you were pregnant with his child. you wanted to tell him but things didn't give you the time to.
"shit- shit- shit!" toji boy shake against you, pleasure shooting down his cock at the thought of his baby being inside of your belly. it's because of him your breast are swollen with milk. it's all for him, it all belong to him.
you gasp as toji press your body down the shower floor, slaming his cock inside of you, his arm around your head as he push his full body weight into you, it's like something switched in him, it's like you unlocked something in him.
he lean his head back before taking a fat nipple inside his warm mouth, the taste of your milk hitting his tongue has him almost blacking out. it's embarrassing for him how fast he cums, you can feel his warm seeds filling you in.
you gently run your fingers through his wet hair, as you coo at him. his lips never leaving your nipples, flicking his tongue around it. you can feel his cold piercing hitting your sensitive bud.
seems like you were gonna stay for awhile in the shower.
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𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍
"mmm fuck, you little filthy slut" sukuna growls out as he slump down his throne not being able to blance himself from how hard you're riding him.
you bounce on one of his cocks while, the other once was brushing against your clit as you grind your cum filled cunt, sukuna have already finished two times inside of you- but of curse he wasn't finished he needs to stuff you full till his cums start dripping from your nose.
two of his large, rough hands are on your hips, gripping so hard creating a wound, gushing blood from it but it only seems to turn him on more. while his other two hands are on yours boobs, sucking and biting on your nipples with his hand-mouth.
as you were about to reach your peak sukuna grab you from your wait and lift you, as you were about to complain and white for him to let you cum- sukuna slams his huge grith inside the hole of your tight-ass tearing through, you scream out, while sukuna growls and groan clearly enjoying how tight your hole is clenching around him.
"cant to much- to much" you choke out on your sobs, cant handle the overwhelming size of him inside your ass. but what you nearly pass out was when sukuna grabbed his other cock and shoved it inside of your folds, stuffing both of your holes with his dripping, cocks- angry and ready to fill you as he promised.
"shhh little one, let me stuff you full of my cum, let me make you my cum dump" he purrs out as he sucks your tongue inside of his mouth- and this is exactly what he did, he stuffed you ten times with his cums, five times in your cunt and other five inside your little ass.
but he doesn't stop there, your body lay against him, twitching. as your pussy drips with over loads of his cum, sukuna catch the cum that was spilling with his palm. scooping it with his hand, before he slowly start shoving his fist that was filled with him seeds back into your pussy.
you whine as you feel his fist tearing through you, he gently shush you with his other hand while the other two hold you down by your hips, for him to have easy access.
his fist make it's way inside of your tight pussy, enveloping his whold hand. he growls as he feels how tight you were clenching around him, how warm and hot your inside felt against his fist. he can the pool of cum that he filled you with, coating the insids of your pussy.
"i gotta-" you didn't fully finish your sentence because sukuna already know what you're going to say. he place his mouth hand on your clit, drinking in the warm spurt that starts gushing out of your pussy.
you scream as you start squirting the hot liquid, his cum starts spilling from your ass past his fist from the force of your orgasm.
sukuna growls as he stares at the mess you're making, his third arm making it's way toward your ass hole and scoop his cum that just spilled just to shoved it inside your little ass, fisting it just like your pussy.
"good fucking girl" sukuna mutters against your forehead, as your figure tremle against him.
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𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎
every since choso got the feeling to cum inside of you- to breed you. he couldn't stop after. it could be early in the morning and choso wouldn't be able to wait to fill you up with his cum.
it could be in the middle of work, he would beg you to sneak inside the bathroom for him to fill you cunt again. but lately something new been added to chosos breeding kink.
"baby- please fuck fuck fuck please just step on me baby" choso whine out kneeling in front of you, he just finished helping you put your heels on, and obviously your needy boyfriend got hard.
it's been a week since you discovered chosos filthy fetch, at first you didn't notice how he would take extra care of your feets, or how he would give extra attention to your feets, the way he would spoil you, buy tones of heels, without any doubt, the way he almost came into his pants once he saw your curved feets, and cute little toes in a dark red heels- his favorite color.
the why he would kiss each one of your toes as he massage your feets after along exhausting day, the way he stare at your toes that curled instinctively, unknowingly causing arousal to pool in his gut, the way he would always beat his hard cock as he sniffs one of your high thigh fluffly christmas socks, remembering the way your cute little feets and plumy thighs looked in them.
"do it, step on me." choso begs, leaning forward slightly to nuzzle against your belly. he looks up at you with his chin against your lower belly, pretty eyes pleading.
"what did i say about being a good boy baby? have you been a good boy today?" you look down at his figure, can't help the wetness that drenched your panties from having him like that.
slowly trailing your heels down his hard on, and stepping harshly on it- knowing he likes it rough, choso eyes cross, as he started humping your feet. your fingers run through his dark locks and pulling his head back, making him look up at you.
"you want to cum inside of me baby? you want to feel me with your seeds?" you coo at him, teasing him as you press the tip of your heels against the sensitive tip of his cock that was leaking through his pants, soaking the fabric.
he nods eagerly, you smirk at how desperate he is, not knowing what's coming for him.
here he was his hands tied up behind his back, as your body was on top of him. he stare at you confused. "but i wanna touch you-" you shush him by hovering your pussy against his cock, his mouth immediately shut and his eyes hazily focus on the way your wetness drip to his cock.
you know how much choso was touchy when he was inside of you. you knew it would drive him crazy if he doesn't to get to do that because of his tied up arms. but what you didn't know was how strong choso really is.
because as soon as you slam your pussy down his fat cock, choso immediately tear up the rob that tied his arms together. you gasp once he flips you over. he was huffing like a dog in heat. slamming his hips down your pussy with no mercy.
"em gonna cum! em gonna cum!" choso whimpers before you feel him coating your walls with his seeds.
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tag list : @nxxun-blog @kikosamus @rxndou @seinagiswife @reagan707 @sadmonke @chilichopsticks @baby--vera ( i couldn't tag the other becuz u have ur tags off) hope u enjoy :3
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gremlingottoosilly · 6 months
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I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)
Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3
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“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin. 
You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm. 
You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after. 
So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well. 
— I’ll find something to eat, alright? 
He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged. 
— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you. 
— Ah…your father is at home? 
You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was. 
— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you. 
— You didn’t tell him about me? 
Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly. 
— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…
An apathetic dad, huh. 
You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart. 
— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home. 
He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed. 
You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen. 
*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid. 
König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished. 
With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel. 
Scheisse
Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…
The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son. 
You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl. 
— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it? 
You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years. 
You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like. 
— Ja. You can have it. 
He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it. 
— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you. 
You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him. 
Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home. 
— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you. 
You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom. 
He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you. 
— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet. 
— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz. 
You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce. 
— What do you mean by this, sir? 
You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally. 
Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid. 
He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship. 
The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you. 
König is. 
— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you. 
You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man. 
Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this. 
König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father. 
Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too. 
— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir. 
“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing. 
You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all. 
König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks. 
God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies. 
He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right? 
You look like a good candidate. 
— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz. 
He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left. 
— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here. 
You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body. 
— You want to see the bedroom then?
Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him. 
— Sir, this is very…
He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is. 
— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.
You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway. 
Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all. 
— I don’t want to break his heart. 
— He doesn’t have one. 
You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…
God, you feel like a slut, and you like it. 
Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted. 
You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game. 
— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later. 
“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum. 
You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please” 
König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable. 
— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later. 
He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before. 
He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people. 
He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right. 
— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore. 
— N…not a whore, please…
He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid. 
— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…
— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…
— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.
He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second. 
It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this. 
It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…
You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it. 
Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed. 
König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good. 
So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father. 
— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it? 
— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul. 
— I’ll tell him. 
— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck. 
— I need to return to my dorm. 
— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja? 
He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right. 
He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen. 
Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked. 
— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are. 
— She’ll make a good step mom, ja? 
You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes. 
12K notes · View notes
satorudoll · 9 months
Note
Baby Gumi giving Toji the sus look when he saw the love bites on Mommy's chest
Toji forgot his baby has sharp senses for a baby and baby thought Toji ate his food or hurt Mommy lol
(im starting to feel like y'all wanna turn this acc into a toji thirst vault)
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Megumi always had a habit of looking up at his dad weird, the two year old boy always found his dad weird.
So he would spend most of his time toddling towards you and taking up any free space that was available next to you.
The baby boy loved to be in your arms very much, therefore everytime he woke up to find you already waiting there for him near his crib with a warm smile he'd try to get up on his small chubby legs holding onto the rail guards of the crib then forward one of his hands to make grabby hands at you.
You spent most of the day holding the baby boy in one arm and doing every other chore in your house while your husband was out for work because Megumi absolutely refused to leave your side unless he was in a deep slumber.
But as much competent the little boy was so was his dad, Megumi enjoyed all his fun time with you until it was time for his dad to come back from work, the two year old will get all pouty and fussy as soon as he'll hear the slamming of the front door and a loud "I'm home!" followed by the literal thudding of his dad's running feet.
The baby boy's brows would knit together and his tiny button nose would scrunch in distaste as soon as his dad would pull you away from his side to engulf you in a hug and lay bunch of his dirty smooches on your face.
ew, Megumi would think.
Megumi always got annoyed at his dad for doing these stuff to his mom, believing his mom was just a very nice lady to not turn his dad down.
The little boy knew his fun time was over as soon as his dad was home. He would toddle out of his room and find you sitting alone in the couch, peacefully watching television, then he would proceed to start running towards you almost tumbling in his steps just so he can climb up and sit down next to you.
But then the tall giant will casually walk in and let his entire body fall down horizontally on the couch, immediately planting his head on your thighs as well, leaving literally no space for Megumi.
The two year old boy would pause in literal disgust and shock,
This would get the two year old so mad that he would get down to pick up his toy spoon from the floor and start smacking it on the old man's head who in return would start yelling in surprise at why his son was being such a brat while you try pulling him away from his dad.
Now Megumi thought he has seen all the worst sides of his dad, until, one morning the baby boy wakes up way too early than usual due to a nightmare. Not finding you besides his crib he immediately manages to crawl up by standing on his little pile of plushies.
Megumi was indeed a smart baby.
Tumbling towards his parent's shared bedroom he could hear some weird noises coming as he got closer,
he was sure most of it were your voices though?
But you sounded like you were in pain??
He slowly opens the door which was already a bit agape,
he really couldn't understand what was going on since he was way too small and his vision could only go up so far.
But then he hears the loud sound of what he considered to be a slap along with the rough angry voice of his dad followed by your sobs,
he cannot believe his dad was hurting you ! Oh he always believed his dad was a mad man,
He was definitely worst than the monsters under his crib !
and that's all it takes for the baby boy's bottom lips to quiver and let the loudest wail out,
He felt like that helped because through his blurry vision he sees his dad immediately spring out of the bed, murmuring a string of what you taught him were "bad words" while fumbling around for something.
Your head pops out of the covers as soon as you were done fixing your night gown but the two year old was way too busy crying and rolling fat drops of tears down his red cheeks to realize that you had taken him in your arms.
"Gumi- baby what's wrong- " you try to rock him in your arms but that didn't seem to be helping,
"you are just like me kid, all grumpy early in the morning" His dad tries casually playing it off after slumping down besides you both,
but the 'just like me' causes the baby's cries to get even worst making you pass your husband a mad glare for saying that,
Toji stares at you both offended.
"I'm sorry, mommy wasn't there this morning- Won't happen again honey! I'll play with you all day today, we wont be able to play if you keep crying!" you smile as he starts to slowly quite down at those words.
"What a good little boy" You praise, slowly caressing his head and moving his little black baby hair away from his forehead.
His pout is still on his face as his vision moves down from your face but then it stops,
while Toji was joking at you about how he deserves the 'good boy' title as well and you were busy brushing him off, you both failed to notice the little boy's growing frown as he stared at all the purple bruises around your neck and collar bones.
He feels his vision start to get blurry again and then its there again,
His mouth opens wide showing off the two new set of teeth as he starts crying bloody murder.
You gasp in panic not understanding what had happened again.
As you tried to rock him again he tried getting away from your arms and instead stretching his hand towards his dad as he continued balling his eyes out.
That confused you and Toji,
He has never chosen Toji before for comfort as long as you were there,
But Toji was a little too happy to care,
"Does my little boy wanna be with daddy??" He coos, stretching his arms out for you to hand the baby to him,
"I knew you always had a soft spot for me kiddo" he gushes as soon as he takes his baby boy in his arms.
But the happiness didn't seem to have lasted long, because as soon as Megumi gets close to his dad's face his little hands flung up to grip on the locks of his dad's hair.
"What's u-" He yelps when the baby boy starts to twist and turn his fists while he continues to babble something only another baby could make out and sob like he was the one in pain,
"Oh god- baby you shouldn't do that come here-"
You try pulling Megumi back in your arms, but he is willing to take Toji's head along because he just wasn't loosening his grip.
"Gumi ! mommy will cry if you don't pay attention to her !" You make a pouty face and put your hands on your hips while Toji was busy yelping and cursing not caring that the little boy could hear everything
But that immediately gets the baby's attention because he instantly turns his head around and starts crawling to you as his cries slowly starts dying down.
"Demon child !" Toji points as he runs his hands through the locks of his hair, rubbing at the area that his son almost got him bald at,
You lift the baby up in your arms as you look at Toji,
"and don't you curse again in front of our baby" you knit your brows before turning your attention to the two year old and wiping the tears away from his puffy cheeks.
"So I'm the bad guy here??" Toji questions, looking defeated.
You shrug and walk away with Megumi in your arms who had finally gotten quite.
Oh you and Toji had a lot of explaining to do to this little boy, but that wasn't a headache you both were willing to take for Monday morning.
Maybe later at night, when Megumi will seemingly be a bit less pissed at his dad.
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☆ — REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED !
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steddieas-shegoes · 1 month
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Steve grows up playing piano, absolutely hates it, but is so good at it. His parents aren’t around enough by the time he’s a teen to force him to his practices, so he slowly stops going.
His music teacher happens to be Robin’s mom, who studied at Juilliard, and traveled for nearly a decade with various orchestras and bands before settling down with her husband in Hawkins.
She can see what’s going on with Steve from day one, but knows better than to interfere.
Until he quits.
She can’t stand by and let someone so musically gifted give it up.
She shows up at his house with a violin, her own violin that she hadn’t used in years.
He’s hesitant at first, but decides to give it a try as long as she doesn’t tell his parents. The last thing he wants is for them to find out he picked up a new instrument.
She can’t give him official lessons, so she shows up to his house twice a week and hopes that he practices in his own time.
He’s a natural.
He takes to it like a duck to water.
She encourages him to perform in a local talent show, all kids under 18, most of them not half as talented as he is.
He only agrees when she says she’ll be front row.
And sure enough, for once in his life, someone shows up when they say they will. She’s sitting front row with her husband on one side and her daughter on the other. She smiles as he takes the stage, nervous about people who know him seeing him and reporting back to his parents.
He performs with heart, something he lacked with the piano. He performs with talent, something he may have with any instrument he picks up.
But most importantly, he plays with a smile. He’s having fun.
He sticks around to watch some of the other people performing: Tammy Thompson singing a very out of tune rendition of America The Beautiful, some kid from one of his classes playing piano miserably, and some band performing very loud, very angry music.
Steve wins, and for once, it feels better than when he wins at a swim meet or basketball game.
He spends the next three years secretly practicing, only performing in shows out of town, never saying anything to his parents.
He doesn’t want them to ruin this for him.
He applies to Juilliard, not thinking he has a chance in hell, not with his academic grades.
Luckily, they see that he’s “exceptional with the strings” and “plays with emotion that can’t be trained.”
He gets in.
He goes.
He thinks he may actually be able to do this, use a gift he has to make his life better.
His parents even find it acceptable, mostly because he got into the best school he could have. They still don’t bother showing up for his shows, but Mrs. Buckley always finds a way.
In his sophomore year, Robin gets in, and they both move into a small apartment off campus together. He promised to look out for her.
She tells him that music wasn’t really her passion, she was just good with a trumpet. She really wanted to be an engineer.
In his junior year, Robin transfers to Columbia, starts doing what she really wanted to do from the start. He’s proud of her, but misses having someone on campus during the day to have lunch with.
Until he stumbles, literally, into someone vaguely familiar.
“Sorry, man. Running late.”
Steve pats the man on the shoulder and turns to get to his class when the man stops him.
“Harrington? You’re a student here?”
He turns back and finally recognizes the man in front of him.
“Munson? When did you get here?”
“I got in this year. Kinda fucked up my first audition last year and they were kind enough to give me another shot.” Eddie smiled. “What on earth are you here for?”
“Violin. You?”
“Guitar and songwriting.”
“That’s great, man. I’m just really running late. Catch up soon?”
Soon was two weeks later, when Steve ran into Eddie again while leaving class.
“We should probably stop running into each other like this,” Eddie smirked. “The universe is trying to tell us something.”
“What’s it trying to tell us?”
“Not sure. Maybe we should go grab dinner and find out.”
“Now?”
“Why not? Got better plans?”
Steve thought about how Robin was barely at the apartment due to studying for midterms. He thought about how his only other friend from here was busy rehearsing for their senior showcase.
“Nah. Let me bring this home first,” he held up his violin case. “Actually.”
Steve was on a budget. His parents gave him money, sure, but they thought he was living on campus so the money they sent covered rent and groceries and nothing else.
“I could make dinner. If you want?”
“Steve Harrington cooks? And plays violin?” Eddie fake swooned. “Be still my beating heart. How will I not be seduced?”
Steve rolled his eyes. He remembered Eddie’s dramatics from school and knew better than to feed into them.
“I can make some spaghetti. Nothing fancy.”
“Spaghetti sounds great,” Eddie’s fake swoon turned to a soft smile. “You want some help?”
Steve didn’t need help, usually didn’t even want any.
But something about the way his stomach dipped when Eddie stepped closer, and the way he thought about having Eddie in his apartment, made him agree.
“Sure.”
They walked to Steve’s apartment in a comfortable silence, though Eddie kept tapping the back of his fingers against Steve’s hand.
Eddie fit next to Steve. They cooked together, they ate together, they even managed to clean up together. It was easy to find something to talk about. He’d never clicked with anyone like this, not even Robin.
By the time Robin came home, Steve and Eddie were both passed out on the couch, fingers laced together as if they hadn’t been brave enough to do anything more before they fell asleep.
By morning, Steve’s head was on Eddie’s shoulder, Eddie’s arm wrapped around him loosely.
Waking up to a soft kiss on his lips was something Steve couldn’t have imagined when he first ran into Eddie, but he was pretty glad it was how he started his day.
And almost every day after that, whether he woke up to a kiss, or met up with Eddie on campus for a kiss, he started his day with love on his lips.
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saetoru · 9 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。what if you’re someone i just want around (i’m falling again)
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synopsis. somewhere along the line, you started to hate suguru—that doesn’t mean you stopped loving him too
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— word count. 9.5k (i am in misery)
— contents. post canon! au — fix it! (we all need a good fix it fic with suguru don't lie), this fic was started before recent manga chapters so the higher ups are still alive—just go with it ok :,), geto survives + lives free of kenjaku, exes to lovers, kind of redemption i suppose, mentions of blood, injuries, and weight loss (geto), mentions of canon character deaths (nanako, mimiko, nanami), mentions of wanting to raise children with geto and have a family, no gendered terms but reader has a personality and actual thoughts and feelings, references to the hunger games (you have movie night lol), BFF satoru (he is babie), there is a kiss y’all !! (scandalous i know :O)
— notes. i started this fic back in march and i had trouble with it and put it on pause for a while. i’m very glad i finished it in the end. i always like fix it! fics and this is self-indulgent and idk if ppl will read it bc it’s sfw but it’s ok if they don’t, i loved writing it. thank you koi for beta-reading this whole bad boy. mwah <333
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the day suguru is declared a free man is actually the day he signs away his freedom for good. 
you say nothing, but you know it’s the truth. satoru fights tooth and nail to plead suguru’s case—you think it’s perhaps a little too desperate for it to be in the best interest of suguru and not himself. but satoru has suffered enough, and admittedly—although you deny it—a small part of you does not want to lose suguru twice. you watch as satoru argues that suguru has already died once—surely he can’t die again? and losing control of his body and mind is paying for his crimes enough, is it not? he argues that there are no ideals left for a man like geto suguru to chase after losing himself to every principle he had left. 
and then satoru wins. 
you expect it, but it doesn’t make it any easier. you watch numbly as suguru is assigned under your watch. you should be happy. you love suguru—you never stopped. but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s not a free man, and now he drags your freedom with his. you’ll never break away from him, never cut through the ropes that tie your hands behind your back and bind you to him—and then you wonder for a moment, unsure if it’s selfish or selfless or some cruel in-between to think this way, if geto suguru was better off dead. 
whether that’s for your sake, or his, you’re not sure. 
and yes, he’s let off alive, and sure, there’s no real punishment for all he’s done, but you know deep down he’s as chained and shackled as he’s ever been. he’s not allowed to leave the house unless you or satoru are there to chaperone, and it’s never to be anywhere near non-sorcerers. he’s not to live in a place of his own until the higher up’s deem him trustworthy. he has to ask you to buy the things he wants from the grocery store. he can’t even step outside for a smoke unless you’re aware. 
for a long time, he doesn’t speak much—can hardly muster a barely audible mornin’ back when you force a smile and greet him cheerily for breakfast. slowly, it turns into half-snarky conversations that get cut short by one of you leaving the room. finally, you’re civil—maybe even friendly. you’re not so sure where you stand with him as of now.
it’s not the same suguru you remember falling in love with, it’s not even close to the version of the man you fell for all those years ago. it’s hard having him here—some days you’re angry and want to throw him out, to scream at him for haunting you again just when you think you’ve moved on from the horrors of your past. some days you want to cry and cling to him, bury your face into his neck and thank him for being here again, for finding his way back to you. and some days you wish you never met him at all, that this would all be easier if it didn’t exist in the first place. 
he’s not the same geto suguru you loved, but somehow, because life is as bitter as it is ruthless, you fall in love with this version just as hard no matter how much you deny it. 
“i made your favorite,” you smile gently, placing a neat plate of french toast with freshly cut strawberries on the side. you even take great care to get the syrup-to-powdered sugar ratio he likes right, but he doesn’t make a move to reach for the plate. instead, suguru sits at the table stiffly, like he has to be here or there are consequences for that too. it almost makes you sad—even here, he’s not free. 
“thanks,” he says quietly, “but i’m not hungry.”
“you said that last night, suguru,” you sigh, “and at lunch. and at breakfast. and at dinner the night before—”
“i’ll eat it later,” he cuts you off, playing with the ends of his hair. 
it’s a lot shorter now. it’s you who finds his body battered and bruised after the smoke clears. he’s almost unrecognizable, not the same charming and perfect suguru you’re used to seeing. not the same silkened strands and smooth skin, not the same muscled and toned body, not the same chiseled jaw and soft cheeks. instead, he’s a shell of himself. his hair is matted in knots, his body is almost frail, and you notice the sunken hollows of his cheeks and dark undereyes as you lift him from the rubble a little too easily. but his body is his own—that much you can tell from the way the stitches have disappeared. 
it takes shoko a long time to nurse him back to health—it takes even longer for him to open his eyes.
you waited day and night by his side, hand over his as he breathed slowly, unconscious and unsuspecting. it would be so easy, you think one night, it would be so easy to kill him and forget and move on. 
you’ve already grieved him once before. you’ve felt and conquered the pain of loving geto suguru and losing him first to himself and then to death. but love is as selfish as it is selfless, and it’s under your mercy that you let him live—yet it’s under your cowardice that you keep him close. 
“you have to gain back the weight you lost, suguru,” you sigh, “you’re w—”
“weak?” he finishes for you, eyeing you for a second and then grinning. it’s unsettling, a grin that makes your skin crawl and your heart stop for a moment before he’s reaching for the fork and stabbing into his toast. “is that what you wanted to say? that i’m weak?”
“suguru, you know that’s not how i meant—”
“you’re not wrong,” he hums, chewing on the first bite as he speaks, “i suppose i am pretty weak right now, huh? couldn’t even kill you in your sleep if i tried could i?”
your throat is dry as you shrug, “i suppose not,” you whisper. 
“ah,” he grins again, “but that doesn’t stop you from locking your door every night, does it?” 
suguru is still healing. his body is weak, and sometimes, he leans against the wall as he walks. his arm is healed—you’re not entirely sure how, but you catch him rolling the shoulder out every now and then like it’s sore and stiff. he’s lost a lot of weight—part of it is from being bedridden for as long as he was, injured and half alive, and part of it is from barely eating—save for the few bites you force into him. you never thought there’d be a day when you could say this—but the odds of you beating suguru in hand-to-hand combat are high, and the reality is an everlasting reminder that he is not who you fell for. 
you swallow, letting out a shaky breath as he watches you closely, diligently cutting another bite from the french toast sitting on his plate as he stares you down like he can see past your soul. you don’t know what’s scarier—that suguru can still practically see yours, or that you’re unsure he even has one anymore. 
“you tried coming in?” you ask, unsure what else to say. he merely shrugs, takes another bite, and sets his fork down. 
“thought i’d check on you,” he pops a strawberry half into his mouth as he speaks.
“is that what it really was?” you raise a brow, “or was i right to lock the door?”
you’re not sure why you lock the door at night. maybe it’s because you don’t trust him, or maybe it’s because you don’t want him near you just yet. you’re not sure. you’re not sure how satoru can go back to his cheery self, how he can step through your door and boom a loud yo, suguru! before settling beside suguru on the couch with his feet on the coffee table as he rambles away. maybe it’s not real—maybe it’s satoru desperately pretending that if he tries hard enough, things can go back to how they were. 
but you don’t know how he still has the energy to try, and you don’t know if you have it in you to try anymore yourself. 
you and suguru stare each other down like that for a bit, the tension rising with every silent second that passes. you’re sure he doesn’t want to be here as much as you don’t want him around—but you’re also sure he’s glad it’s here with you as much as you’re glad it’s with no one else.
“you tell me,” he smirks after a bit, the hint of amusement making your fists clench. how dare he have the audacity to look at you like that in your own home? like he has the upper hand over you without trying? “what do you think i was there for?”
“i think you should stay in your room, suguru,” you say carefully, “i bought a new bed just for that room.”
“how sweet of you,” he hums. he sips the tea before him—it’s cold by now, but it’s just how he likes it, rose with one sugar. “you must have been excited to have me.”
“hardly,” you mumble bitterly—you can’t help it. you want him to feel hurt, even just a little. you want him to know that just because he’s back, it doesn’t mean you’ve waited all this time for him to be. liar, a part of you says, you’ve always waited for him, haven’t you? but suguru doesn’t seem phased—he doesn’t even blink.
“then tell me, why am i here?” suguru asks, his tone is as casual as ever. 
i wish i knew, you want to say. i wish i knew but i don’t.
“because satoru asked you to be,” is all you can say.
he nods, pushing back his plate and standing up, offering you that same grin. “you’re right,” he hums, “that’s exactly why i’m here.”
it hits you why his smile is so unsettling once he leaves—it’s almost genuine, like he’s still loved you all this time. impossible, you tell yourself. suguru stopped loving you a long time ago. and you need to stop trying to figure out why. 
————————————————
even despite telling yourself you don’t care what suguru thinks, a small part of you needs to prove to him you’re not scared of him. that you don’t fear for your own safety in your home, and that him being here is not some form of him haunting you. you don’t care. he shouldn’t get the luxury of thinking you care. he can come in and watch you sleep like the creep he is if he wants—you couldn’t bother to give it a second thought. 
the first night you take a chance and leave the door unlocked, suguru slips into bed beside you. it wakes you up instantly, and before you can question it, his head tucks into your neck, and his hand grasps your shirt tightly. you notice the panting almost instantly—and then you realize, it must be a nightmare. 
you fall into old habits, even after all these years, defaulting to care for him like it’s second nature. 
“you’re safe, suguru,” is what you settle for saying after a moment of contemplation. it’s all you can really think to say, so you brush your lips over the top of his head as you murmur, “you’re safe,” over and over again. 
as difficult as it is to have suguru around, as painful and cruel and aggravating as it is to be reminded of his distant existence even as he’s two doors down, this part feels natural. it’s almost like you’re back in jujutsu high, waking up to him sneaking into your room as he presses his weight over your body and wakes you with soft kisses along your face. 
except this time, he’s not annoyingly demanding cuddles or telling you about his weird dream, he’s not stealing your blanket and demanding you play with his hair. this time, it’s not the same suguru—and this time, it’s not jujutsu high. 
it’s your room. the one you got on the other side of town to leave the sorcery world behind, somehow still stuck right in the center of it no matter where you go. and yet, just like all those years ago, your legs tangle, and your arms wrap him up, and you murmur, “you’re safe,” while he catches his breath. 
“but they’re not,” he mutters in between labored pants, making you pause. 
and then you remember. 
faintly, you recall the blonde and black hair from a distance, you remember bitterly wondering what’d it be like watching suguru fathering children of your own as you came to the reality that it would never happen. sometimes, you wonder if you hate nanako and mimiko for existing, for living as the dreams you never got to live through with suguru. 
it’s selfish—to hate two children because they are what you do not have. 
but then you feel something wet hit your neck, and then you wish they were okay—for his sake. and just for a moment, you’re selfless again. 
“they’re not safe,” he mutters, making you sigh. 
“they are,” you whisper, hesitating for a moment before letting your fingers slip into his hair. you scratch gently at his scalp, feeling his body melt into yours almost instantly—like it’s a response that’s natural to him. “they’re not suffering. not anymore.”
“is that supposed to make me feel better?” he scoffs. you shrug, letting your cheek press against the top of his head as you sigh.
“it helps me feel better,” you say softly, “‘s just how you learn to cope.”
it’s an understanding you both silently come to. loss on both sides. bloodshed on either ground. defeat no matter which ideal you take. to love is to bear the pain of mortality—it’s a lesson that you never cease to learn until the ends of time itself. 
“the jujutsu world is one of suffering,” he grits, sniffling into your neck. you hum, pressing a kiss to his head as your eyes close. 
“every world is one of suffering, suguru, you can’t erase them all. the sooner you realize that, the easier you’ll find peace.”
you fall into a slumber after that, faintly aware of the way he shuffles closer to you, faintly aware of the soft kiss pressed to your skin as sleep takes over your body and drifts you out of consciousness. 
when you wake up the next morning, suguru is gone, and the door is closed. the blanket is tucked up to your chin, and your neck still tingles from last night. 
————————————————
“get up,” you throw a pillow at suguru, waking him up with a start as he sits up. his hair is tousled and messy from sleep—it’s now long enough that he can put it in a bun without strands slipping from the bottom anymore. you chuckle as he glares at you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he groans. 
“the fuck was that for?” he grunts, holding the blanket up to cover his exposed chest. 
it’s funny that he does that, in a way. it’s not as though you haven’t seen his chest…and then some too. it’s not like you haven’t torn his shirt off to stanch the flow of blood from his injuries before or feel the bare skin with your palm under the pale moonlight as the lingering scent of sex breezes through the room. 
but somehow, even though he doesn’t need to cover his chest around you of all people, you’re glad that he does. truthfully, it keeps you slightly comforted to know that he’s aware you’re still technically strangers—no matter how well-versed you are in each other’s pasts. but you don’t ponder on it too much. instead, you grin, shoving aside the visual of the small glance you caught at his pecs, and you clap your hands to motion him to hurry. 
“we are going grocery shopping,” you say casually—as though it’s not something to make him raise a brow in shock.
“me?” he points a finger at himself. you roll your eyes, and he challenges you with another raise of his brow. “aren’t i supposed to stay away from civilians?”
“yes, you,” you nod, pointing back at him, “and satoru has worked overtime to get you granted permission to roam around with me. he says you’re welcome, by the way.”
“tell him to go fuck off.”
“that’s ungrateful,” you say flatly, “his feelings will be hurt.”
“his feelings will find a way to cope,” suguru huffs. “i don’t want to be around…them,” he says bitterly. 
you suppose it’s wishful thinking to hope suguru has let go of his past beliefs. perhaps he’s long abandoned the possibility of the vision he once planned on bringing to life, but you can’t say you expected him to revert back to the old suguru who fought alongside you and satoru. you yourself certainly have no intention of returning to the sorcery world after all the events, so you can’t say you’re shocked by the lack of change he seems to show. but then again, you suppose suguru has changed. whether he sees it or not. 
he stays here and doesn’t put up a fight to leave even though he can now that he’s healed. he eats lunch when you tell him and even washes the dishes. sometimes, when you come home a bit late, dinner is even ready on the table as he sits and stares at you expectantly. his plate is empty like yours—like he’s been waiting for you even though he doesn’t need to. you suppose you can see he’s changed in the way he doesn’t scoff at the tv channels you surf through, he silently sits on the opposite end of the couch now and watches with you, and perhaps if you’re lucky, you’ll hear a light chuckle or a quiet sigh as the scenes roll on the screen. 
you suppose this suguru is a step closer to your suguru every day he spends with you, but you don’t know if any suguru is what you need right now. perhaps that name should’ve been buried away as a distant memory, perhaps it should’ve only been something you unlock once every year on his death anniversary—when satoru clambers through your door drunk and unsteady as he clutches the hand that killed his best friend, only to share pancakes with you in the morning and pretend like you don’t notice the dried tears on his cheeks while he acts like he doesn’t catch the way your hand shakes as you cut into your breakfast. 
but suguru is here now. whether it’s as geto, one half of the strongest duo in jujutsu high, whether it’s as suguru, the love of your life and the sole reason you exist, or whether it’s as geto suguru, the curse user and mass murderer who haunts your past, present, and everything in between. 
so you simply sigh, grab the pillow again, and hit the top of his head before walking over to the door as you call over your shoulder, “i’m gonna wait for you by the door in fifteen minutes. be ready or face the consequences..”
“no thanks. don’t wanna,” suguru grumbles petulantly, frowning at you as you stick your tongue at him, smirking as if you’ve just played your ace. 
“too bad,” you sing before swinging the door shut.
he’s at the door in exactly fifteen minutes, like he waited until the last possible second to join you as a move of spite. but you simply gesture him out the door and lock up, taking your sweet time as he stands there with an annoyed face. you stare at the doorknob once you’re done, taking a deep breath before turning to him with your best smile. 
“let’s go,” you hum.
“after you,” he mutters.
he grimaces as soon as he sees the people going about their business, clearly unhappy with the idea of being around non-sorcerers, but one sharp glare from you has him sighing and trekking along. the grocery store, admittedly, is not as bad as suguru thinks—in fact, there are lots of things he doesn’t realize he misses until he watches you grab a shopping cart. 
suddenly, he sees shadows. the silhouette of your figure climbing into the cart, the angry wave of satoru’s hands as he claims it's his turn to be pushed around, the figure of shoko pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation from the back—and then, he sees the dark shadow of baggy pants and a small bun. it’s him. suguru watches himself almost in slow motion through the remnants of his imagination as he gently shoves satoru out of the way and reaches to poke the tip of your nose before he pushes the cart with you in it.  
it’s a happy memory—and it’s gone all too soon.
as soon as he blinks, the shadows have disappeared—instead, it’s you waving a hand in his face, concern written on your features as you call his name. 
“suguru? hey, hello? are you with me?”
he exhales, pulled from his trance as he gently grabs your wrist from in front of his face and sets it down as he nods, “yeah, i’m fine. just thinking,” he mumbles. 
for a second, you hesitate, like you almost mean to say something. but in the end, you only nod before turning to grab the shopping cart. but he stops you—grabs the handle and turns to you with a small smile on his face, making you raise a brow as he gently moves you away. 
“what are you—”
“get in,” he grins, making you stare at him in bewilderment. 
“what?”
“just get in,” he sighs, “you love it when you get to sit in the cart.”
“i’m not a teenager anymore—”
“get in, will you?” he groans, “always so damn difficult.”
“hey,” you pout, glaring at him with your hands planted at your hips, “that’s rude.” it’s cute. suguru stares at you with amusement in his eyes and a soft look on his face that you don’t think you’ve really seen in years. 
“humor me,” he hums, “just get in, okay?”
so you do. 
with a huff and a grumble under your breath, you fight back a smile and climb into the damn cart just like old times. you swallow and try not to let it get to you when he reaches over and pokes the tip of your nose and pushes the cart around, letting you name off the things you need from your list while he grabs them. and when he sneaks snacks into the pile, you roll your eyes and glare at him in the way you always did—the one that isn’t actually annoyed. fond. happy to let it slide because it’s him.
“we need candy,” you murmur, “that’s the last thing on the list.”
“okay. what kind?” he asks, turning the cart into the candy aisle and smiling softly down at you.
“doesn’t matter, satoru eats anything as long as it’s sweet. he’s more likely to die from sugar than fighting a curse, i think.”
“you buy candy for satoru?” he asks, making you shrug as you reach over and grab a few bags of candy off the shelves, setting them down beside you. 
“he comes over a lot so i learned to keep stuff stocked up for him. you know how he gets when he’s hungry.”
suguru feels something he hasn’t felt since he was a teenager. jealousy—specifically of satoru. 
suguru is not foolish. he knows as soon as he meets gojo satoru that of the two, one of them is stronger and it’s definitely not himself. for the longest time, he’s okay with that, okay being the strongest only when alongside satoru—until he’s not. and even if suguru always had a bit more attention in the romance department than satoru, in his head he’s always known that perhaps satoru can keep you safer, more well off, maybe even happier. with smooth smiles and eyes as welcoming as an oasis, gojo satoru would never leave you in the dark pit of misery as suguru once had. 
something about the thought of you and satoru keeping each other company through the lonely years, filling that empty spot suguru left behind, sharing moments over candy and empty wrappers makes suguru wonder for a moment if perhaps he’d be happier if he stayed. maybe he could have worn a heartfelt smile in a world that carves them off the faces of sorcerers with bloody knives as long as you were there to wipe the blood.  
but before he can dwell on it, you snatch one more bag—this time of his favorite candy, placing it into the cart and grinning gently up at him. 
“i haven’t bought this one in years,” you admit, “i almost forget how it tastes.”
“me too,” he says quietly.
“well,” you hum, “we’ll have to have some when we’re home.”
home. you say it as though it belongs to him as much as it does you, and then like you always have, without even meaning to, you wash away the dark stains of his jealousy with no trace left behind.
“yeah,” he chuckles, “we—”
“daddy, look! candy!” suguru is cut off by the gentle pitter-patter of two tiny feet running into the aisle, pointing at a bag of candy as a man follows close behind. 
his breath hitches. 
she’s small, the girl—she has two pigtails with soft strands of blonde hair falling out of the loosely tied bands. it reminds suguru of the first time he perfected tying up nanako’s hair, the soft giggles behind her tiny hand as she twirled in the mirror. 
there’s another girl in the man’s arms—dark hair on her head as she curls into her father’s chest and tucks her head into his neck when she sees you and suguru in the aisle. she’s shy, he realizes, like mimiko, and suddenly he remembers the tiny fingers that used to hook into his pants when she got too overwhelmed by the people around her, waiting for suguru to scoop her into his arms. 
perhaps in another life, suguru would redo everything differently—he’d be happy with you and satoru and shoko, and nanami and haibara would be there too, well and alive. but no matter what, he’d never redo nanako and mimiko differently. he’d never change a thing about them, not even the way nanako whines too much about small things or the way mimiko never speaks up even when something is clearly bothering her. he’d never change the way he saved them and took them in at the tender age of eighteen, too lost to be a father but choosing to raise them anyway. he’d never change the feeling of pure joy and unbridled pride when they climbed into his bed for the first time, shushing each other so as not to wake him—even though he’d awoken as soon as the door to his room opened. 
because he realized that night that yeah, maybe he’d made mistakes in his lifetime, lots of them too. maybe he’d made a bad choice choosing the path he did, or maybe he didn’t. he’s never been completely sure—just that he had to try at least to make his vision for a different world come to life. but one mistake he never made was his girls. one thing he was always sure about was the soft clutch at his pants and the tiny hands reaching for his own.
suguru wouldn’t change anything about nanako and mimiko—except maybe the fact that they aren’t here, gone because of him. 
“suguru?” you ask softly, reaching for his hand as he grips the cart tightly and pulling his gaze away from the family in the distance. 
he blinks, meets your eyes, and knows that you know. with one glance at your face, he knows you understand. the world is cruel, one filled with suffering, he thinks. but then he remembers what you said, that every world is full of suffering, not just his—that it’s a truth he has to come face to face with.
but it’s hard. it’s hard when this man has his two little girls and suguru does not—it’s hard to watch someone have what he wants with no worries of losing it, all because of people and their own weaknesses. he thinks for a moment that he’s been right all along—that non-sorcerers are too weak for this life, that the jujutsu world has always suffered so they don’t have to. 
but then the man speaks up, catching both of your attention. 
“your mother used to love those,” he says quietly to his daughter, a pained smile on his face. instantly, you and suguru both seem to understand the weight of that single sentence. 
every world has its own pain, suguru realizes. its own cruelties and unfairness, its own way of bringing suffering in its wake as it rips away the things closest to you from your begging fingertips, leaving them cold and empty and numb from the lost weight underneath them. 
“let’s go, suguru,” you whisper, “we have everything we came for.”
“yeah,” he whispers back, clearing his throat so his voice doesn’t crack, “let’s go.”
suguru leaves the grocery store with you after you pay, and for a brief moment, he’s unsure. unsure whether he’s grateful to satoru for fighting for him to be able to come and grateful to you for dragging him along, or if he wishes he died along with the rubble, gone before you could find him and turn him into this.
“before you even think about hiding away in your room,” you say, grabbing the bags from the cart as you put it back where it belongs, “you have to help with putting away the groceries.”
“sure,” he says smoothly. he grabs all the heavy bags from your hand, and you make a move to protest that you don’t need him to take the heavier ones, that you’re fine and can handle them like you’ve always handled them. 
but he walks off, and finally, you decide to simply follow.
————————————————
satoru likes to come and visit—you’ve started a routine movie night every week (unless he’s away, of course.) it’s fun, but it also means he makes your veins pop because he’s a headache like that—always makes himself right at home and eats your snacks like this is his place and not yours. he helps himself to your already limited candy and puts his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table no matter how many times you tell him not to. 
you try sitting with legs as long as these, he always whines, earning a harsh glare from you as you smack at his shins until he ultimately caves and begrudgingly sets his feet down. 
but then they always make their way back up to the coffee table, and you’re too busy enjoying his company to care—although you’ll never admit it. 
satoru is endearing like that, swallowing the dark clouds from your shoulders whole and eating up your burdens with that side of responsibility that you don’t think you could ever stomach. satoru is just like that, you realize, taking the brunt of the weight and laughing off every concern until you can’t help but not take them seriously yourself. 
it’s hard to remember that sometimes you didn’t just lose suguru, the love of your life, that night. everyone lost something. shoko lost someone to smoke with, yaga lost a student to scold, nanami lost a headache to avoid, and satoru?
well…satoru lost what you think might’ve been the only filled void of his miserably empty life. 
it’s hard to remember that satoru lost his best friend—the only best friend he’s ever had (although you like to think of yourself as a close contender)—because he’s so good at letting you forget. he brings you ice cream (that he eats half of because it’s only fair he gets a share), and he sits and hogs your couch (that he argues you don’t really need as much space as him on because your legs aren’t as long), and he watches those stupid sitcoms that are dry with boring jokes (that you used to make suguru watch back in the day).
it’s hard to remember that satoru also lost as much as you because he’s so damn good at making you forget about your own loss, you don’t care to think about anyone else’s for a while. just a short while. just until he’s yawning that obnoxiously loud yawn and stretching those awkwardly long limbs of his before he claims he really should go and that being the world’s best teacher requires as many hours of beauty sleep as you can squeeze in. 
and then he’s off. and it’s empty again. and just like that, you’re reminded of why he was there in the first place—to fill in that sick and painful void that geto suguru left in you. 
it’s gaping, like he tore a chunk of you right out with sharp teeth, like you’re just a piece of meat for him to get his fill of. if suguru really loved you, would you be so easy to let go of? why couldn’t he smile? because you could—god, you could smile just from the sight of him alone, you realize a long time ago. him with his cigarette tucked between his lips, those death sticks as you called them, hung loosely from his mouth as he gives you a lopsided grin. 
geto suguru is enough of a reason to smile. the world could crumble at your feet and leave you with nothing but rubble and dirt, and still, suguru is the core of the earth you’re searching for. 
so why couldn’t you be the same? what is it you were missing? what about you was just not enough for him like the way he was enough for you? 
it dawns on you one night, through bitter tears and shaky sobs, and that sick, twisted, pleading feeling in your gut that begs the wind to carry him back to you—geto suguru has never loved you the way you loved him.
and for that, you can never forgive him, you don’t think.
“you tryin’ to go bug-eyed?” he asks, settling down on the couch next to you, making you snap out of your trance. you shake your head a little, stare back at him for a moment before putting on that look on your face where you roll your eyes and pretend everything is fine.
“no,” you huff, “i’m just thinking.”
“about…?”
“satoru has rarely ever missed a movie night.”
“maybe he’s sick of you,” he shrugs, grinning slyly at you as you narrow your eyes with a glare, “there’s someone here to keep you company now so he’s probably taken his opportunity to run.”
“you’re hardly company,” you scoff, “freeloader.”
“hey,” he defends, shrugging as if it’s not his fault. you suppose it’s not. “i didn’t ask to be rescued. you can’t be high and mighty and petty. ‘s not how that works.”
“says who? you don’t make the rules. i can be graciously kind and a jerk all at once.”
“complexity,” he nods, “i like it.”
“i’m not as complicated as you might think,” you grumble, crossing your arms as you stare at the time. yeah, satoru isn’t making it—which, he told you as much, but he’s strolled in at the last second too many times to count before. you figure today would be the same. “as long as you don’t skip movie nights with me, i’m pretty simple to keep appeased.”
“alright,” he props his feet up on the coffee table—seriously, what is it with asshole men putting their feet on your table? satoru is a terrible influence. “let’s have a movie night.”
“what?” you blink.
“movie night,” he repeats, “you said you don’t like skipping movie night—”
“well, i meant i don’t like satoru skipping movie—”
“well, it was me before satoru, wasn’t it?” he says with a smile. his eyes are closed, crinkled at the corners, but his voice is carefully neutral—like he takes extra care not to let you see any emotion behind it. 
but that only means there is an emotion, isn’t there? is he jealous? does he hate the fact that you and satoru have a routine of your own without him? that you don’t need him to continue living your life? 
good. he should be. he walked out on you all those years ago. he killed a village. killed his parents. you never even got to meet them—he never even got to take you home and introduce you to them before he ripped away every fantasy you ever had with him. 
and now he’s back—he has the audacity to live, to laugh in your face with his existence that yes, geto suguru is here. and he was supposed to be executed, but your stubborn friend didn’t let that happen. he was supposed to be your husband by now with kids and a happy little home, and you were supposed to be his parent’s new addition to their family that they loved so much. but none of that is even close to happening, and it’s suguru’s fault, and the least he can do is show you some regret and maybe feel just the slightest bit bad that you now have to watch shitty movies with his best friend instead of him to feel normal. 
ex-best friend? half best friend? you don’t even know—do they still consider each other their best friends? does anyone consider suguru anything? you don’t know what you consider him. but you think the least he can do is act just the slightest bit pathetic after making you feel so pathetic for so long just to even the score. 
he should be a stranger. he feels like an old friend. but either is dangerous. 
“alright,” you sigh, “let's bring back movie night. don’t fall asleep.”
“i get plenty of sleep nowadays,” he hums, “i have more than enough free time for that now.”
“how lucky of you,” you snort. 
picking a movie with suguru is difficult. he actually has standards—satoru watches anything so long as he gets snacks, and he can make anything fun to watch with the way he comments from the side like a critic. suguru, on the other hand, actually cares about the quality of a movie, the metrics that make it good. 
so you pick the hunger games just to piss him off. 
“seriously?” he raises a brow, “this is your pick?”
“yes,” you grin, “i like these movies.”
“of all movies—”
“my house, my rules,” you grin cheekily, “you can pick the movies as soon as you start paying the bills.”
“wow,” he deadpans, “stooping to use my financial status against me? i thought you were better than this.”
“oh suguru,” you sigh dramatically, grabbing a bag of chips from the table, “you don’t know me at all.”
all things considered, you think it’s a rather enjoyable experience. it’s not as fun without satoru’s stupid comments that you pretend to hate, but suguru provides his own commentary that earns a giggle out of you here and there too—although his are not meant to be funny. but that’s the appeal of it, you think. 
“she should have picked gale,” he mumbles. you raise a brow.
“peeta was always there for her, did you miss the rain scene?”
“so was gale,” he says smoothly, grabbing a chip from your bag and making you scowl.
“gale killed her sister,” you point out, “and a lot of other people too. he was ruthless. she needed peeta.”
“gale did what he had to do,” suguru mumbles. 
suddenly, it doesn’t really feel like you’re discussing the movie anymore. it feels more than that. it feels sickening—the air is heavy, and your throat is dry and god, you just wanted a movie night and not this heaviness as you talk about stuff from the past without actually talking about it. 
you blink before turning to your chips, playing around with the bag as you shrug. 
“in the end he didn’t get katniss, did he?”
suguru studies you for a moment, stares a little too deep into you that you start to feel the urge to bolt to your room and go to bed. 
“guess not,” he says quietly, “guess that’s the one regret he has, huh?”
you think for a second, as suguru stares at your eyes with something you can’t quite read, that you might cry. you might cry and throw that half-empty can of soda in his face for speaking in codes and making you question what he means and remember your past. you might cry because suguru could’ve always gotten you—in fact, he had you.
it’s not fair. nothing is, but you can’t help but dwell on it.
“i’m going to bed. it’s late,” you mumble after a few moments, standing. he only nods, staring at the tv as the credits roll. when you make it to your room and the door shuts behind you, you debate clicking the lock in place. 
in the end, you don’t lock the door. suguru climbs into bed with you once more later that night, shaking slightly from his nightmare but calmer than usual. he’s still gone by the time morning comes, and you still never mention it.
it hits you one night that maybe he still has you—maybe you never let him stop having you, no matter what you say.
————————————————
suguru is good at cleaning while you’re away. you have to go out and do adult things like breadwinning and grocery shopping and bill paying. he dusts and cleans and even takes out the trash when you’re home to monitor him as he steps two feet out of your front door. sometimes, because you like to get on his nerves, you accidentally mess up a corner of the house just as he cleans it, laughing as he shoots you an unimpressed look. 
“stop getting crumbs on the floor,” he mumbles, “i just vacuumed.”
“you make a good malewife,” you giggle, “vacuuming and everything. how cute.”
“don’t call me that,” he grumbles, sitting down on the couch. 
“but you missed a spot,” you point to the crumbs you’ve sprinkled from your fingers as you snack away, making him glare. “failwife.”
“i’m going to divorce you and take everything,” he snaps, making you snort as you put your hands up in surrender.
“you don’t have to, you know,” you murmur, “clean, i mean. i can handle it.”
“i think i should carry my weight around here,” he shrugs, “since you are basically sugar babying me around for now.”
“dangerous curse user to the world, but sugar baby to me,” you tease, pulling a chuckle out of him as he rolls his eyes. 
sometimes it’s nice to have his company. suguru is good with banter like that, he’s not annoying like satoru where you run in circles. suguru makes you laugh from your belly, makes the hiccups catch in your throat as you double over. he’s always been like that, always known how to make laughter pour from your lips and trickle down your chin. it’s comforting to know he still knows how. it leaves a small amount of bitterness that he’s still able to make you feel like this. 
“by the way, next time you go shopping, take me with you,” he says casually, “i need to buy stuff for my hair. it’s growing.”
“you’ll finally see the sun just for your hair?” you gasp, “who knew that’s all it’d take?”
despite the playfulness in your words, there’s still shock. suguru is willingly stepping foot outside your house. he’s finally choosing to return to life after living like a recluse no matter how many times you and satoru have tried to beg him to get up and go somewhere. the most you can get out of him is a walk around the neighborhood before he goes back to wandering your home and hiding away in his room. 
suguru is returning to life, his life, and you can’t help but wonder where that leaves room for you.
“my hair is my charm,” he reasons, “wouldn’t you agree?”
there’s a smirk on his lips when he asks—it’s like he’s seventeen and teasing you again, giving you that unfairly flirty smile that used to make you stutter as a kid. back when you were hopelessly in love. back when it was you, suguru, and the world in your corner. back when you had dreams of your future, practically giggling as you planned it away in a notebook. 
suguru was always perfect like that, the kind of guy you could only dream about. he’s always been handsome—he’s always been the center of attention everywhere you went. you used to huff about it, about all the attention he managed to get from walking into a room alone. but then he’d smile, give you that tender look of his as he’d chuckle, and you’d be hopeless again. 
he shouldn’t have that effect on you anymore after over a decade. but he does. it’s cruel, the way the universe works. it’s like there’s a magnet that pushes you together no matter how far you try to go, still pulled by gravity straight into his awaiting eyes and devilish smile.
“i cut your hair off once, i can do it again,” you huff. he laughs, it’s good-natured and kind. 
“i was a bit heartbroken when i realized it was so short, i have to admit,” he says, “i didn’t look like me.”
“you looked good,” you say quietly, “i think you’d make anything work, to be honest.”
“yeah?” he grins, “any requests? i might consider it if it’s you.”
“oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, “how about shaving your head bald? let's see how much charm you have without all that hair.”
“i could charm you without the hair still, couldn’t i?” he winks. 
it’s unfair how he acts like normal. like a few months in your home undoes everything he’s ever committed, all the atrocities he’s caused. the way he flirts with you feels like you’re his again. the way he’s aged and changed feels like you’re meeting someone new. you don’t understand how suguru is so natural with that—with seamlessly falling back into a rhythm with you like nothing has changed at all.
deep down, you know that suguru is just moving on with his life. he’s making the most of what he can. he can’t die, satoru would never let him have a peaceful death after all this. he can’t go back to the way things used to be, whether that’s his sorcery days or his curse user days, and he certainly can’t start over. so he’s making do with what he has—which is very little in reality.
it’s you, your home, and the biweekly visits from satoru and occasionally shoko. so he weaves you seamlessly into his life and treats you with a sense of normalcy you can’t hope to treat him with. maybe it’s because suguru was actually able to move on after he left. 
it’s the part you hated him most for. for building a family with new people. for having two girls that he raised as daughters. for finding people to follow him and trust. suguru, after he walked away from everything he ever knew, actually did something with his life—even if it could hardly be considered good. 
you? you fell deeper and deeper into a pit of denial until clawing your way back out was too impossible, until you had to leave behind everything you’ve ever known to get away from the remnants of his existence. 
it’s easy for him to weave you back into his life because he chose to cut you loose. it feels damn near impossible to let him weave back into yours after he tore himself from the edges and frayed away. 
“don’t do that,” you sigh, making him frown.
“do what?”
“you know what, suguru,” you pinch your nose in frustration, “stop acting like things are normal.”
“things are definitely not normal,” he snorts bitterly, “i think needing your approval to take the trash out is not equal to normal.”
“then why are you acting like…” you trail off, unsure.
“like what?” he raises a brow. 
“like we never changed,” you slam your hands down on the couch in exasperation. 
he stares at you for a minute, blinks once, then twice, and then furrows his brows.
“well, of course we changed,” he mumbles in confusion, “i know that—”
you shouldn’t have said anything. you quickly realize that. suguru is not trying to act like things are normal—he’s trying to be civil, and you’re just a fool. a fool who looks too deeply into everything and assumes what you want to out of things and god, you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of your one and only ex-boyfriend in over a decade who was once dead and somehow came back to the land of the living.
of course, he knows things are not the same. he doesn’t want what you think he does. it’s been years and suguru has moved on—he had already moved on all those years ago, and you’re the only one here that is still focused on the past. and now he knows it too. 
you stand before he can finish, nodding as you stare down instead of meeting his eyes, pretending to adjust your clothes. 
“right, of course you do,” you nod, “i don’t know why i said that. just ignore me, i’ll be going to my room now. i have…things to do, so i’ll be—”
“hang on,” he frowns, hand grabbing your wrist, “i don’t mean it like that,” he says gently.
fuck geto suguru for being so confusing and fuck him for being nice about it too. 
“you can let go, suguru,” you pull at your wrist, “forget what i said, i wasn’t thinking—”
“i still feel the same,” he cuts you off, making your eyes widen, “if that’s what you mean. i never stopped.”
never stopped—that’s almost worse than moving on. how could he have felt the same all those years and still never come back?
“that does not help even a little,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “that makes this so much worse, do you see that?”
“i know,” he sighs, “i’m sor—”
“don’t say you’re sorry,” you grit your teeth, “we both know you’re not.”
“maybe not,” he admits, “i had to try. and that meant leaving—i’m sorry that’s not what you wanted.”
“it’s not!” you turn around, pulling your arm out of his grasp—suguru, for what it’s worth, takes the shove to his chest like a champ. “of course i didn’t want you to leave and kill a bunch of people and have an execution stamped on your forehead and live your life without me.”
“i know—”
“and now you’re back. back! in my house, eating my food and sleeping in my bed for half the night and i just have to act like this is normal. how is any of this normal?” 
“it’s not,” he agrees. he’s calm. so calm, it almost makes you mad. why is he so calm? “nothing about anything in our lives is normal. it never was.”
“you ruined my life,” you blink back tears. he smiles sadly, taking a step closer.
“i guess i can take the blame for that,” he nods, hands finding their way to your hips. against your better judgment, you lean half your weight against his body. this is bad, very bad—but it’s also the best thing ever. 
being close to suguru feels like the sun’s heat tearing through your skin—it’s warm. it’s pleasant. it leaves you parched and drained with a dry throat. but still, you need it to survive. 
“why did you come back?” you ask tiredly. his hand finds the small of your back, rubbing slow circles.
“i don’t know,” he hums, “i didn’t really get a say. maybe i was always meant to, who knows?”
you look at him at that—tilt your head to get a good look at his features. his eyes are more tired, and his cheeks are a bit more sunken in compared to the youthful flesh you remember him with. his hair isn’t as healthy, and his forehead has the slightest traces of pale marks from the scars. but he’s still suguru—and you have always loved suguru, even if he gives you every reason to hate him.
“you make my life unreasonably difficult,” you mutter.
he hums, smiling. “can i?” he asks breathlessly, pleadingly. you stare at his eyes, he stares at your lips. you know what he wants—but fuck, you can’t let him have it so easy. 
“can you what?” you ask, raising a brow slowly.
“are you really gonna make me say it?” he grunts, lips almost curled into a pout. it’s cute, the way he looks longingly at your lips—it’s so cute and beautiful and dangerous all at once, just like suguru. 
“yes,” you say, “yes i am. i deserve to hear it suguru, after everything you put me through. you…you left me. i wasn’t enough for you. i mourned you. i grieved a body i never even saw. do you know what that does to a person? to lose them not once but two times? the least you could do is tell me what you want,” your voice wavers just a little. 
it shakes for the lost time. for the moments you’ll never have. for the memories you lost. for the past that’s tainted. time is cruel like that. but that’s the beauty of it all—the fragility. it’s like sand falling through the cracks of your fingers, every grain slipping from your reach but still soft and soothing against your skin as it falls. everything fades over time, everything starts to hurt one way or another. but it stops. it heals. it starts over. the sand fills the cup of your palms again, warm and delicate and just as beautiful as before it crumbled. 
“can i kiss you?” he asks desperately, “please?”
“kissing me is not a temporary thing,” you shake your head, “not anymore. it’s for good. only for good.”
“i want to kiss you for good,” he nods, hands digging into your hips impatiently. you’re close. you’re too far. he can feel you, smell you, hear your unsteady breaths. but it’s not enough. he needs to devour you, taste you on his tongue, and melt you with his touch. “i won’t stop this time,” he promises. 
“you better not,” you sniffle, tears blurring your vision. you hated suguru for leaving you. you hated him for coming back to you like this. you never stopped loving him, never will stop loving him—and maybe that’s what love is. when the darkness is worth trekking through for the afterglow of the light. “if you fucking leave me again, you’re dead to me. i don’t care how many times you come back to life. you’re dead to me.”
“okay,” he agrees through a shaky chuckle, “i suppose i deserve that. let me kiss you, yeah?”
“yeah,” you breathe.
he kisses you—years too late, he kisses you. it feels like you’re teenagers again. it feels different and foreign. you know this feeling like the back of your hand. you don’t understand what this sensation is anymore. it’s new. it’s old. it’s perfect. it hurts. suguru is here. he promised not to leave—you don’t know if you believe him, but you’re going to trust that finally, for once, you are enough. 
you’re enough to make him happy. to give him a sense of purpose. to keep him swimming when his limbs start to sink. 
finally, for once, you’re enough. 
“i love you,” he whispers against your mouth, breathing the words into you like he’s offering you the air from his lungs, “i never stopped. i promise.”
“you don’t deserve to hear it from me,” you murmur back, panting against his lips, “not yet.”
“fair enough,” he chuckles, “you sure know how to leave a guy waiting.”
“i learned from the best,” you shoot back.
he grins—suguru smiles, heartfelt and real. life is full of misery, it’s painful, and nothing fucking makes sense. everything is cruel. everything dies no matter how carefully you water the roots. there’s always something, someone, ready to tear it from the earth. but if you keep planting the seeds, suguru will keep watering. 
maybe something kind can bloom from that, something big enough for him to hide under the shade when the scorching heat of tragedy becomes too much. 
in this world or in the jujutsu world; in this life or in the next. suguru is yours.
“why am i here?” he asks gently, his face digging into your neck. you hold him, cradling the back of his head as you hum. 
“because i need you here. will you stay?”
“yes,” he murmurs, “i think i’ll stay.”
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hi. i have been working on this since march. its still not how i envisioned it to be originally but that's okay. i had fun writing it and it means a lot to me even tho its kind of. well....cliche LMAO like everything i write. but. i enjoy the cliches okay ?? i do. kxljchskdf hope u guys didn't hate it </3
also the fic banner is …. not the greatest. just ignore it ok
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thehighladywrites · 2 months
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ACOTAR MEN X READER, BANNING THEM FROM INTIMACY
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☀︎ — summary: you let them know they’re not allowed to touch you in any way, shape or form. How do they react!
☀︎ — warnings: 18+, nsfw, az being a slut as per usual, cassian being yummy, touchy needy fae males, slight dumbification in lucien’s
☀︎ — amara’s note: lucien was my fav one to write omgggg, also i hope u sluts enjoy😈😈😈😈 also enjoy while i work with tutor az👀👀
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RHYSAND
“You’re putting me on a ban? You can’t be serious.”
“Nuh-uh Rhys, you flirted with that girl so have fun by yourself for the unforseeable future.”
Rhysand didn’t actually flirt with anyone, he was being his usual self and the way the girl was leaning towards him made you angry so you just blamed him instead
He gets through the first few days calmly although he is mildy irritated. Especially when Cassian and Azriel tease him about it.
“So no sexy time for you Rhysie, that must suck,” Cassian says as he ties his hair back.
“Well, not really much sucking these days, right?” Azriel snickers, getting ready for the inevitable fight
Rhysand takes out his frustration on them for their smart little comments.
Rhysand has quite a high libido so that man usually fucks you good atleast once a day even when you’re both busy.
“Darling, please forgive me. I will never do it again. Tell me what I can do to earn your forgiveness.”
He begs and begs because he’s going a bit crazy
In the end, it takes him only three days for you to forgive him and lift the ban. The man is charming and seduces you into dropping the ban
The second you drop the ban, he grabs your waist, throws you over his shoulder and winnows to the cabin where he fucks you for a week straight.
“That oughta put that nasty idea out of your head forever” he says, patting your head while smiling at your ruined self. Mascara running, laboured breathing, and a pounding heart is your only answer
Yeah this man wrecks you and you never pull this stunt again…
YUMMM MHE IS SO DELICIOUS 👹👹👹👹
ERIS
“You may not touch me or have sex with me in any way until I say you can.”
He narrows his eyes as he slightly smiles when you announce a ban on all intimate activities for the unforseeable future.
“Is that so?”
You cross your arm on your chest, lifting your chin in defiance.
“Yes, that’s right. Since you want to entertain Nesta Archeron, you may not be in my vicinity.”
You are being waaaaaay too dramatic. He didn’t even spare her a single glance until you pointed to her. Nothing at all happened, I mean the male didn’t even know she was at the ball until you told him.
Nesta walked up and was a bit too close to him and even though Eris moved to your side, giving her an unamused look, you were still irritated
And since you couldn’t take it out on her, you take it out on Eris.
But Eris knows what you’re doing, he knows how extremely dramatic you are being, so he just lets you cool off, let’s you huff and puff around the house
You are a mess. An absolute mess
You find yourself longing for Eris's touch, even just a simple headpat from him would send you into cardiac arrest.
The fact that you lasted an entire week is insane bc you’re both touching each other in some way all the time
When you’re lounging; his head rests on your chest, and you lovingly massage his scalp, running your fingers through his hair. Alternatively, he pulls you closer to his body under a warm blanket, nestled in his neck, while he warms his hands for you, acting as your personal heater.
When you’re in public; he always has a hand on your lower back, waist or you walk hand in hand. You also wrap your hands around his biceps, caressing the arm when you feel tired
When you’re in a meeting; your hands naturally seek each other under the table. Whenever one of you gets heated or irritated, the other soothes them by rubbing their thumb on the back of their hand, offering quiet support.
After a week of torture you finally breakdown in his office, storming in and placing your palms on his wooden desk. He looks up at your curiously, an eyebrow raised.
“Okay, I can’t do this anymore, please touch me, I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Eris is just as desperate as you are but he wants to drag this out just a tiny bit more before giving in
“Interesting. You initiated this ban, yet you’re the one who can’t follow through? You were fine without me for a whole week, I think you’ll manage another one.”
Your jaw drops in disbelief. Another week? No, you’d rather die.
“I think not. I will beg if I have to. Touch me, please. I will probably die if I go another week without you.”
He leans back in his chair, puts his arms behind his head as his arms bulge. One of your biggest weaknesses
“Normally, I’d make you beg but I missed you aswell. Come here.”
You damn near cry in relief when you sit in his lap and nestle in his arms. His warm hands rub your back and thighs, making you impossibly more relaxed
“This was one of the dumbest things I have ever done. Never again.” You whine against his neck, kissing it over and over again.
“I’ll hold you to that,” he says, emotional as he press a kiss to your head
AZRIEL
“Okay.”
That is all he says when you tell him your banning him from touching you. Honestly, you thought he’d have a bigger reaction so you start getting second thoughts.
But you thug it out bc you still want to prove a point even though he looks super unbothered
In reality, Azriel is panicking on the inside
Although he knows he can physically withstand sex, it’s the love and intimacy he misses the most
So he does the one thing he knows you won’t resist
He sluts around the house
Okay, he walks around shirtless or with super tight black shirts thst highlight years and years of working out
Azriel knows you’re weak for his muscles and body so flaunting it around is step one of his plan.
Step two of his plan draws him extremely close to you, mere inches away. He leans in as you speak, exploiting yet another weakness.
He wears delicious colognes that make your eyes flutter. He wears chains around his neck and leans over you.
Azriel’s final and ultimate slut move is waking up in the morning, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine as he speaks. It's all it takes for you to cave in to his charms.
You find yourself the one begging for his touch, unable to resist the longing for his embrace. You babble about never wanting to go so long without feeling his presence again.
CASSIAN
Cassian’s love language is most definitely touch so when you tell him that he is banned from here on out, he freezes.
Like it doesn’t make any sense, he actually can’t grasp the concept.
“What does that even mean? What do you mean I can’t touch you?”
Tha man is flabbergasted
He will follow you around, apologizing for his behavior over and over. You’ve already forgiven him since it was a minor thing but he doesn’t know that
Cassian starts carrying a pillow with him, imagining it is you. He craves touch, and if it's from a damn pillow, he'll gladly take it
He pouts as you try to surpress a smile at his expression. He’ll give you puppy eyes in hopes of you dropping the annoying ban
Eventually, Cassian levels up and becomes extra touchy with the inner circle instead, seeking any physical touch
A confused Azriel gets extra pats on the shoulder, but Cassian's hand lingers, staying put longer than usual, leaving Azriel puzzled by the sudden change in his behavior.
An amused Rhysand receives more hugs, but Cassian's hugs linger, holding him close as if imagining you there for a moment.
Obviously, nothing compares to you, and the whole situation only makes Cassian more irritated.
No sex is just unbearable. Jerking off isn’t fun at all and he can count on one hand how many times he had to use his hands since you got together
After only one and a half day you start to miss his touches and get jealous that your friends is getting his warm touches instead.
You’re also very horny and since you and cassian have a VERY active sex life, it makes a lotta sense. This male usually fucks you 1-2 times everyday, and I mean EVERY day
Seriously not a day goes by without some action, whether it be fingering, bjs, handjobs, nipple play, him eating you out, 69 just anything really
When you finally, after 1,5 excruciating days let him touch you, he smiles and thank the Mother then drags you to your bedroom
Y’all don’t come out for a solid 2-3 business days
Ever since the ban, he is stuck to you like glue fr
LUCIEN
Lucien is very calm for someone who isn’t allowed to touch his mate
“You’re banning me from touching you? That’s really cute,” Lucien remarks casually, a hint of amusement in his tone as he takes a sip of his peppermint tea.
You furrow your brows, pouting. “I'm not joking, Lucien. If you touch me, I'll scream,” you assert firmly, crossing your arms over your chest. With lifted chin and proud gaze, you stand your ground, making your new and temporary boundaries clear.
Lucien chuckles softly. “Yeah? You’ll scream? Love, you scream real nice for me when I touch you anyway, so what's really new?” he teases, getting closer to you.
“I mean, do you really want me to not touch you?” Lucien asks, his voice low as he inches closer and closer until your faces are mere inches apart.
He gets so close, his warmth leaving you breathless. His soft, plump lips barely brush against yours, the touch so light it's almost not there.
“Tell me, my sweet, perfect girl,” he murmurs, his breath mingling with yours, “who put this idea in your head?”
You are barely functioning, your words stuck in your throat as you struggle to come up with a response.
“I know you're too out of it to properly respond to me right now, and it's okay,” Lucien says gently, his tone teasing. “I guess using your brain is a tough task, hm?”
You nodded absentmindedly, distracted by his charming smile
“M'sorry, Lucien,” you mumble, your words breathless and slightly slurred. “It was just a joke. I really want you to touch me,” you admit, your voice trailing off as you become increasingly dumbfounded in his intoxicated presence.
He tsked with mock sympathy. “It's okay, sweetheart,” he said gently, gripping your chin. “Let’s not say things we don’t mean the next time, okay?”
“Okay, I won’t.” you say blushing at the proximity before giving him a sweet sweet kiss on the lips. Lucien pulls you in closer and y’all fuck right there on the kitchen table but damn it was good
Yeah, banning Lucien from intimacy will never work
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🏷️: @thelov3lybookworm @redbleedingrose @acourtofladydeath @acourtofwhatthefuck @clairebear08 @rowaelinsdaughter @artists-ally @berryzxx @aroseinvelaris @cupidojenphrodite @jeannineee @daycourtofficial
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babygorewhore · 3 months
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Daddy issues
After your dad is arrested, you try and beg for his job back. But Rafe Cameron decides another way for you to help your father. And his arrangement is different than you imagine.
Warnings! Daddy kink! Talks of violence! Slight reference to abuse! Choking! Blow job! Rough unprotected sex! Breeding kink! Virginity loss! Dirty talk!
You didnt know if you were more angry or surprised when you got the call from the officer that your dad was arrested and currently in jail for assault. You were finished working your late shift at the restaurant when your phone rang.
You screamed in your car on the way to the station. Your dad was a dead beat. An asshole who didn’t know how to fucking control his temper. Daddy dearest also liked to get loud with you, throw things when he didn’t get his way and one time he slapped you in the face.
You slapped him back and threatened to slash his tires. But the threat was empty considering he needed to work, which you had no idea how he kept his job at the docks while working for Rafe Cameron. It used to be his father Ward until his suicide. You’d met him often while picking your dad up, given you had to share a car.
He was…polite you could say. But he was also scary. He glared at everyone and he was short tempered. You usually heard him snapping or yelling if something wasn’t done right. Your dad complained about how strict he was.
But his status and wealth made everyone obey him and intimidated you. His attractiveness however was on another level. His height made you feel small and his blue eyes cut through people.
You slammed the door at the station and went to the desk. After signing in, you tapped your foot impatiently as an officer came up to you.
“Are you…?”
“My dad is here. He just got arrested.” You ground out. You hated being here. She nodded and looked at paperwork in front of her.
“Are you here to post bail?”
“I’m here to see if there’s any way we can clear this up as a misunderstanding.” You tried to plead but she shook her head.
“Ma’am, he attacked a man at a stoplight. He beat him up to the point he lost one of his teeth.”
You pressed your head against your hand. Jesus Christ it was worse than you thought. “How much is bail?”
She looked again at the paperwork. “Looks like we’re at 6,000 dollars.”
“What? I thought the bail was lower than that!” You shrieked.
“Ma’am. He also had multiple charges. Public intoxication, disturbance and assault. He caused a lot of trouble. I suggest you alert his job tomorrow. But until then, he’s going to spend at least 60 days in jail.”
You started crying. You couldn’t help it. It hurt so much. You couldn’t get a break. And now you’d have to face Rafe Cameron and face the humiliation of your dad being in jail.
You cried on and off the next day as you had to switch your schedule to the evening and make the phone call to your dads manager about his current situation. It was immediate termination and you broke down even harder in your bedroom. You refused to take his phone call, afraid you’d explode on him.
As you got ready for another dreaded work shift, your phone started ringing to a number you didn’t recognize. Hesitantly, you answered.
“Hello?”
“Your dads in jail, huh?” You immediately froze. It was Rafe’s voice. How did he-well he was capable of finding anything out.
“I-um. Yes. And he can’t work for you anymore. But if you’ll please reconsider. I know he’s a piece of shit but this is the only job he’s lasted out and we desperately need the money. I’m trying to get a car and we have to share one. I know this is probably pointless but I can’t help but try. So please, please take him back.” More tears came and you felt like a total cry baby but you pushed through.
You expected him to laugh but instead silence met you.
You bit your lip hard enough it bled.
“Meet me at my house. I’ll text you the address. I have a proposition for you.”
“Why can’t you tell me over the phone?” Your stomach tightened.
“Do you want me to help you or not?”
“Yes. Of course. I’ll be there.”
“Good girl.”
You set the phone down but seconds later his address came through in a text and your breath stopped short. He wanted to see you after work.
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Five minutes before closing and after you finished cleaning, the drive to Rafe’s house wasn’t that far and now you knocked on his door. When he answered, you tried not to reveal how much you found him attractive. His hair was in his face and his eyes were glazed as he looked down at you. His fingers twitched and you imagined what he was doing with that hand…
Rafe gestured with his head for you to come in and you followed him inside the massive penthouse. He had everything you imagined. Expensive furniture, floors and lights.
You followed him to the kitchen where he pointed to the bar stool. “Have a seat.” He muttered.
You obeyed and watched as he circled the island in the center of the room. “So. You wanna save your dads job?”
“Yes. I’m willing to do anything-“ You stopped short when a smirk fell on his face.
“Anything?” Rafe challenged. “It looked like you hated him whenever I saw you talk to him.”
“It’s complicated.” You replied and his smirk grew into a cruel smile.
“Looks like someone has daddy issues.” Rafe countered and you crossed your arms.
“I-well when you put it that way-“
“I’m just bringing up what you’re telling me. Your dad beats the shit out of someone. He went to jail-and now you’re doing anything you can to fix it. Tell me if I missed anything.” Rafe’s voice was low and you hated that he was right.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound pushy. I’m just in a tight spot.”
“Oh I’m sure you’re in a…tight spot.” His meaning was clear and you swallowed.
That was the exchange.
“Look at you. Being a little smart girl and figuring it out. I’m gonna get to the point. You want me to take him back? Bail him out? I get to fuck you. Anywhere. Anytime. And anyplace I want. No condoms. No hidden birth control. No. I wanna see my cum leak out of that desperate pussy.”
Your mouth opened and closed. “I can’t just fuck a stranger. And no birth control? I can’t fucking get pregnant.”
“I’m a selfish whore, baby. And I can afford one. And those are my terms. Either that. Or your dad rots.”
You bit your lip. You weren’t in a position to say no. You needed the money. And Rafe was hot. There were worse guys. Rafe got closer, his big hands reaching to cup the side of your neck.
“Yeah? You want it?”
Slowly, you nodded.
Rafe crooked a finger, signaling you to come closer. You stepped down and approached him gingerly and looked into his gaze. Rafe then latched his hand around your throat. His grip was so strong your feet almost lifted in the air and your eyes widened as he crushed his lips to yours.
His lips devoured you as he shoved his tongue into your mouth. You weren’t experienced. Sure, you’d touched yourself and made out with people.
But actual fucking? You’d never done that. And you knew that was about to change.
“You want me to take care of you, don’t you?” Rafe loosened his hold on your neck and pressed you against the island counter, “need someone to be your daddy?”
Your hands flew to his chest as you brought him impossibly closer, his lips sucked your skin with bruising force. You opened your mouth as he slipped his fingers inside.
“Suck.” He commanded and you listened. Spit gathering on your lips as he kneed your legs apart and lifted you up on the counter.
“Need daddy to help you? Fill you up with my cum?” His dirty words made your cunt twitch as he started toying the end of your skirt. Your thighs dampened as he trailed his thick fingers along your flesh, his fingers grazing the wet patch of your underwear.
You started grinding to give any friction against your arousal as he apparently changed his mind and threw you to the ground by underneath your arms. Rafe gestured to the crotch of his pants. “Consider this your first payment, baby. You ever done this before?”
You shakily remained silent as he huffed an amused laugh.
“Really? A girl who’s such a perv that she’s willing to fuck someone giving her money? Never would have guessed. I guess I’ll be nice and help you.”
Rafe undressed his lower half, his cock leaked with precum and he took your hand. “Swipe it with your thumb, get it all wet.” His massive hand compared to yours was almost comical as he grabbed the back of your head.
“Open your mouth, princess. And remember to breathe through your nose.”
After that, he silenced whatever worries you had by shoving his dick forward. You run your tongue along the thick underside, lessening some of the heavy weight by massaging with your hand. You took the tip through your mouth, shoving down any nerves as you sucked. Rafe bobbed your head up and down as he pushed you further, your head bouncing as your eyes squeezed shut.
“No, no, open your slutty eyes and look at me.” He growled. He leaned over the arch of the space between the counter and where you sank on your knees. The skin of his cock was supple as you continued aiding with your hand. It was hot to the touch.
“Good fucking girl. Maybe I’ll reward you by fucking your pussy.” He started thrusting and hitting the back of your throat. “Breathe. Breathe through your nose.” He wiped a few tears away with his thumb as you listened to him.
You knew he was getting closer as he stopped talking, his breathing heavier as he moved your head. His cum spilled inside your mouth, as he released you and you coughed.
“Not bad for your first time. We’re gonna practice some more.” Rafe smirked as his face was flushed and his fist flexed.
He moved on top of you on the floor, hiking up your skirt and ripping off your panties. He spread apart your wet cunt and dipped his middle finger inside your clenching entrance. “You’re such a whore. Never done any of this and you’re already gonna cum. Should have known you’d be daddy’s cum slut.”
Rafe yanked your legs apart, and spit on your pussy. “Not that it needed it, but I’m gonna be a little more kind to you.” You shrieked as he grabbed your jaw.
“Are you on birth control?”
“No.” You quickly answered. “Never-never needed-“
“Good. And you’re not going to. Got it?” Rafe moaned as he pushed his tip in your pussy, “fuck you’re so tight.”
You winced from discomfort but then his knuckles hit your clit, aiding to relieve your tension as he circled them. “Gonna make you mine. Take you away from all that shit.” He grunted as he pushed further.
Rafe let you wrap your arms around his neck as he thrusted.
“Tell daddy you like it.”
“I like it.” You sobbed as he moved harder. “I like it, daddy.”
It was slightly shameful how quickly you came all over him and spilled onto your legs. Rafe also came again and you felt it inside you. He was serious about no protection.
He stayed for a few seconds before getting up. And pulling his pants back on. He extended his hand and pulled you up. You knew you were a sight to be seen, fucked out eyes and messy hair. You just lost your virginity to Rafe Cameron.
You cleared your throat and watched him sweep his eyes over your face. “So. My dad?”
He shrugged. “He’s already out.”
You paled. “What?”
“I posted bail a few minutes before you got here. But as for his job, you’re gonna have to work harder than that. I have conditions.”
“But I already said-“
“More than just fucking you, baby girl. I own you now. You are mine and no one gets to even think about fucking you. I will cross any line you make to keep me away. And if you try, I will punish you.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong.” You whimpered as he loomed over you.
“And?” He mocked. “You already agreed. You need me. Don’t you?” He cupped your jaw. Tightly but not as harsh.
“Yeah.” You leaned in to his touch. Your defenses are completely down. You needed care. You were always working. Always cleaning up after someone’s mess. And now…he was going to take care of you.
And either make your daddy issues better.
Or worse.
@xxhellfirebunnyxx @imyourdaninow @lesservillain @take-everything-you-can @slvt4jamesmarch @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @scene-and-dandylover @emsgoodthinkin
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Note
Can I please request something about the reader having just moved to Monaco to live with Lando, but is feeling really homesick? And it’s the off season but Lando is really busy with other work and unintentionally neglects the readers feelings and she feels so lonely. A bit of angst but a fluffy end :)
Aches - LN
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Don’t get y/n wrong, she is completely and utterly in love with Lando. But the two are used to two completely different lifestyles and Lando’s got so much on his mind, y/n can’t hold it against him when he forgets that she’s not used to this sort of schedule and life.
In the off season, Lando is still travelling and so active and y/n wants to be there with him. But it’s hard and recently it feels like not only is he busy but he’s too busy for her. Which she’d not so secretly been hoping was not going to be an issue.
They’ve travelled around almost more in the off season than in the actual race season.
Y/n has been feeling that long ache to go home, the need to get back to her parents house and enjoy a meal from her parents and climb in her bed to just sort of rot with her cat cuddling up with her.
“Hey, i was-where are you going?” Y/n asks cutting her original sentence of addressing her feelings when she sees Lando is definitely not dressed for a day at home like she thought they had planned together.
“I’m going to play golf with Carlos while he’s over here.” Lando states making her feel her body deflate.
“I thought you were staying in today. I didn’t really want to go out.” Y/n murmurs hoping her very obvious hint would get through to him.
It doesn’t.
“I’ll be back later, stream for a bit and then you have me all to yourself for the night.” Lando smiles moving towards her, cupping her face and kissing her softly. “Why don’t you go shopping? Take my card, you were saying we need to get Christmas present for everyone. Send me things you think people might like and I’ll let you know if I agree, though you’re better at gifts for other people than I am. My mum loved her birthday present this year more than she’s loved any other gift I got her and I know for a fact it was because you actually put thought into the gift for her.”
“Ok, no problem.” She nods managing a convincing smile as he kisses her again, gently tucking his card into her hand before he grabs his stuff and heads out out of the apartment.
“I’ll see you later.” He grins stealing yet another kiss since the man will find any excuse, but especially likes goodbye kisses. “Ok, i’m going. Love you.”
“Love you too.” Y/n nods but the moment the door is closed her chest tightens and tears begin to blur her vision as she mentally scolds herself for not just speaking up.
Ruining her own mood with homesickness is one thing but to put it onto Lando, especially when he's just trying to make the most of his time off. Which is hardly time off since he's got all sorts of work for both F1 and Quadrant to handle.
"Get it together." Y/n murmurs to herself while deciding to try and do some laundry before going out to get food, hoping to make herself something to eat that will at least distract her enough to make her shake off the heavy emotions.
Lando does come back, paying y/n a little bit of attention as he changes and eats the chicken and bacon pasta bake that she made for them.
"Alright, I'm going to stream. Are you-what's that face for?" Lando frowns, not sounding angry but concerned and since y/n didn't even realise her face had changed, maybe she needs to actually make an effort to contain her emotions.
"Nothing. I was just thinking about going out and grabbing some ingredients to make some dessert or something." Y/n rambles then wincing as she finally looks back up to meet his gaze and finds that Lando's eyes have narrowed in on her. "What?"
"You only ramble when you're lying. So if you want to try that again and tell me the truth then I can fix whatever is happening?" Lando half offers, half demands but his expression tells her that she isn't getting much of a choice.
"I'm just not feeling great." She mumbles before shifting since she still didn't manage to look at him instead she smiles nervously and moves over, kissing at him. "I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what. Baby, what's wrong?"
"I just...I think...while your busy...I'm just feeling a little-" Y/n chokes up feeing her throat restrict and her eyes burn as hiccups, hiding her face in his chest. Because despite wanting to hide herself from him, having him there is a comfort she's only just realising the needs so badly.
Lando just holds her gently rubbing her back since there's no point in pushing her into trying to speak while she is clearly crying too hard to even get words out.
At some point he moves them to the sofa and just sits her on his lap. After a few minutes, she settles down enough to try and piece together a sentence again.
"I hate that I'm like this." Y/n mutters in a grumble, almost shuddering at her own thoughts. "You're so busy...even with time off, you're doing stuff and there's nothing wrong with that! But I'm just...so alone here."
The ball of guilt makes Lando's chest ache and he even visibly winces at her words. If he has one job it's to make sure his girlfriend never ever ever feels alone and he failed.
"Maybe I think I should just go home for a bit. You'll be coming over soon anyway and I don't want you to feel like you need to change plans because I'm just feeling a little shit."
"I'm a shit boyfriend for not paying attention enough for you to feel like you can tell me. But if you think for a second I'm going to let you go home and not be with me so I can get out of completely overwhelming you with love. Then you're insane." Lando sighs then shaking his head really at himself in annoyance that he missed it. "I'll tell the boys I'm not-"
"No. I've already made you late. The last thing I want to do is be the reason you're not online streaming. Please, I'll be fine." Y/n frowns only for him to shake his head at her.
"I'm not leaving you alone when you've just said you feel alone. Baby...don't do that. And don't think it's ok to do that." Lando frowns while she looks at him, knowing his point is valid but it doesn't make it any easier to know she's ruining his plans.
-
Lando changing his schedule wasn't all that easy, but he managed it after some negotiations to make up for it later while also making sure he's there to not neglect his girlfriend.
Getting to her parents house, Lando is immediately welcomed just as warmly as her and honestly he'd cancel the rest of his plans until the training for the season starts if it meant he could relive seeing y/n's entire being light up in a glow of happiness seeing her family as they walked through the door.
He knows she's loves him and he knows that she doesn't want to move home, but sometimes she misses her family and she misses being near them because Lando does get busy and as many people as she's befriended. A lot of them are busy too and sometimes the people you meet through F1, aren't there to be friends outside of F1 events.
So coming home is like being wrapped in a blanket of comfort and getting to be around people who she loves spending time with.
"I'm so glad you brought her home. She's been messaging me so much saying that she doesn't know what to do with herself recently." Y/m/n sighs as Lando helps her with the dishes while y/n is out with her dad taking the dogs for a walk. Though y/m/n quickly seems to notice that Lando's smile has wavered. "Don't be hard on yourself. She told us what happened. You take good care of her and she knows it, we know it. But you're used to balancing the relationship with the race season and this is the first time the two of you are getting a whole winter break together and it's her first time being so far from home for so much of the year."
Lando knows that y/n has loved being with him, watching him at races and she's never seemed sad until it came to an end but it makes sense. She probably had vouched on getting more one on one time and didn't realise how much he still worked, at least in the following week or so after the season ended.
Next year he'll be racing up to December which is pretty insane.
"I just want her to be happy and I'll do anything I can to make that happen." Lando admits making the older woman smile at him with that kind of smile that mothers only have with their children.
"Thank you."
The endearingly sweet moment is cut short when y/n storms in through the back door that leads directly into the kitchen, coated in a thick layer of brown mud while he dad appears wheezing and in tears from laughter with the dogs innocently following.
"Mum! Dad is so annoying! He pushed me in the mud!"
"Oh honey...you can't come inside covered in mud..." Mum states with sympathy but clearly also finding her husband's antics pretty funny. "Oh, Lando will you hose her off outside. I'll make sure the shower it on for you and hot, sweetie."
Y/n's family aren't rich like Lando's, but they are comfortable. They have a decent, well built house which her parents bought for raising a family out in the country. But her dad is a bit of a child and was definitely the fun parent and her mum can't help but laugh and enable his behaviour.
"Come on baby. We gotta hose you down." Lando laughs while y/n whines a little as he walks out with her. "Don't worry, your mum and dad have a friends birthday party to go to so we've got the place to ourselves."
"Mmm...I wouldn't what you could possibly have planned for that."
"You can act like I'm a sex pest, but if I was. I wouldn't be waiting to be alone." Lando smirks with an innocent shrug.
Maybe this is what they needed a bit of a grounding of reality and just some time with people who don't make either of them feel the pressure of constant schedules and fighting to feel like they're giving each other enough attention.
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queers-gambit · 5 months
Text
Love What You've Done with the Place
song by Rascal Flatts
prompt: he's never been a man built for relationships, until you come into his life. now, the house feels like a home.
pairing: Tangerine x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Bullet Train
word count: 1.8k+
warnings: more brain rot rambles, probably cursing, NOT edited, very docile, fluff, romance, hardened men being simps.
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It started with clothes. Just a few, here and there; left behind, forgotten, purposefully stuffed in his dresser for when you stayed the nights. He didn't mind, in fact, Tangerine encouraged you to bring whatever you felt comfortable with leaving since he hated how early you'd leave in the mornings to get ready for work. He found his mornings were peaceful when you were around; neither rushed, both content, starting your days on high notes with each other.
So, he made the decision and found an old sitting-vanity for you. He put it in his bedroom simply because he was fascinated with the hair and make-up process; thinking it was incredible that women had such skill. When he came home about 3 months ago, he noticed your vanity when he first got home from a particularly difficult mission. Your chair was draped in an old university tee shirt, and he smiled.
It was like watching your comfort grow and it warmed something deep in Tangerine's heart. Your make-up wasn't always in a neat array, sometimes just left from a quick touch-up; making the house feel more like a home.
Tangerine also bought a strainer for the shower's drain to catch your hair. He didn't get angry like previous boyfriends did when he found strands of your hair left behind - not on purpose or by some gross standard, but it was natural that hair shed in a shower and not every single strand could be picked up. So, to make life easier, he just quietly bought the hair trap, placed it, removed whatever empty bottles from the shower, and went about his day. But then he started to notice your hair left other places.
His counters, his sink, the floor, your vanity, his bed sheets and pillows.
Tangerine had his issues with possessiveness in the past, but this wasn't remotely similar. No, Tangerine found himself smiling when he would find your hair in his clothes; thinking it was funny, almost like a mark or badge of honor to designate him as yours. It was a brief thought, but Tangerine actually felt giddy by the idea of people just knowing he was off the market 'cause his lady's hair was clung to his suit jackets.
He liked it. He really did. He'd not admit it aloud, but he liked it.
Tangerine wasn't the most humble man in the world, but he certainly liked to flash what was his. Golden jewelry, expensive, tailored suits, shining Italian leather shoes. And now, you, the woman who invaded his heart and head - and now his home. He adored showing you off, feeling affirmed and invigorated by the longing glances men threw your way, and while he expected jealousy from other women, they seemed more impressed by your beauty and grace as well.
He remembers one night, after a several weeks long mission, he just wanted to hold you. His throat was a little choked up when he called you, knowing you were at home after reading an earlier text. So, you rushed over in the middle of the night and he'd yet to let you go home - three days later.
"You've gonna have to let me out of bed sometime," you smiled playfully. "I have work tomorrow - and no, I'm not calling out again."
"C'mon, love, don't leave me alone," he whispered, looking like a beaten down puppy. The mission was much harder than he'd let on, but Lemon usually always filled you in. He thought it was important for you to know certain details that Tangerine was sure to omit, knowing those were the details that haunted him.
"I'll be back after my shift," you promised, nuzzling his nose with your own. "I also need new panties and clean clothes."
He sighed, "Some in there," he pointed to his closet now.
"What?" You giggled.
"You've left enough behind, got a bit of a collection goin', yeah?" He smiled softly, wrapping you back up in his arms. With a sigh, he relented, "I'll let yah go to work, love, just... Need this a bit longer."
You obliged, but the next day, you were gone before he woke up. With a frown, Tangerine dropped back onto the bed - but inhaled deeply when his nose buried into your pillow. He hummed in pleasure, feeling himself brim with contentment, bringing the fluffy item to his chest and nuzzling it; your perfume left behind to soothe him.
Was Tangerine clingy? Oh, for sure! He didn't think so, but you knew better. The contract killer liked you close, liked his hands on you; even if it was just a hand on your waist or a nose near your neck. He missed you when gone, but he usually held himself back from texting you all day - wanting you to be able to focus on your job.
But that day? He was inept, just wanting you; wondering if he paid you the same salary, if you'd consider just staying home. So, he texted you several times.
This obviously threw you off a little, knowing him better than himself most days. But he just missed you, so, you sent a selfie - promising you missed him too and would be home right after work.
He saved the photo and tried not to dwell on how you said you'd "be home" and not "come to his place". He had to take a few moments to calm down, feeling his heart zing with unfamiliarity - but not being afraid of it like he had been when you first started dating. He could recognize he was happy, that he was excited to see you everyday, and that the idea of coming home to you was far too appealing to ignore any longer.
It seemed neither of you needed to actually have an official conversation about living together. Lemon didn't mind, in fact, he was the one who insisted you have your own key; adoring you and whatever affect you had on his emotionally constipated brother. So, some mornings, Tangerine wasn't surprised to find a slightly damp towel left hanging in the bathroom, nor by the make-up on his counter - you using that mirror because of the fluorescent lighting. He never put it back, he didn't move it - he liked seeing it. It meant you were still here, and the idea of it being gone made his stomach knot with anxiety. He also wasn't surprised when he went to use the shampoo you insisted would help his curls flourish (you were right), only to find it damn-near empty. His shower gel, too.
When you came home that evening, you had Target bags in hand; replacing whatever was empty, making Tangerine grin to himself by how in-sync he felt with you. He'd never had a connection such as this, only ever feeling close enough to Lemon, but you changed everything for them both.
How Tangerine ended up with someone courteous was truly beyond either of them. Someone kind, caring, adventurous, sweeter than pie - someone definitely out of Tangerine's league, something he never let himself forget. He adored you to your core - thinking someone such as you should never have gotten tangled up in someone like him, but he knew, if the time ever came, he'd never be able to let you go. In fact, most days, he had to convince himself not to just pick you up and carry you around while he did chores or ran errands.
The very idea of losing you sent his heart into his stomach; hallowing his chest in a harrowing fashion that made it hard to breathe. Just a week or two ago, Lemon found Tangerine in the kitchen, hand to his chest as if he couldn't catch his breath, heaving for air; his worry spiking, but quickly realizing what was wrong.
"Bruv, you've gotta breathe - calm down," he tried to coax. "You're having a panic attack, you've gotta just focus on breathing."
"Fuck off with that!"
"Seriously, man," Lemon insisted, catching Tangerine in a vulnerable state enough that he actually listened without much of a fight. When Tan seemed a little more under control of his own emotions, Lemon asked, "What the hell happened?"
Tangerine shook his head, "Nothing t'worry 'bout - "
"Bullshit," Lemon snapped. "I've never seen yah like that, mate, the fuck happened?"
It was embarrassing, but Tangerine managed to answer, "Just... Just started thinking that if she ever left me, I'd fucking crumble, mate."
This made Lemon frown, "She's not gonna leave you, man. You know that. The girl's madly in love with you, yeah? Like madly in love - like to a degree it makes her stupid in the head, all right? Obviously, you too," he chuckled, shaking his head as he affectionately ran a hand over the back of Tan's head. "You're workin' yourself up, 's all right. You don't have to think about that - ever - 'cause she's it for you, mate. Yeah? Hear me? She ain't goin' nowhere, not without you."
Tangerine needed the assurance. Being alone after having a taste of your love felt impossible to Tan now, something he was never bothered by before. Seriously, why give a fuck about a relationship when he had his brother? Someone who loved him unconditionally and wouldn't leave? And then he met you and understood why people gave fucks about relationships.
It was as if every room you ever entered was brightened up simply by your smile. Your laugh wasn't always the most ladylike, but it was genuine and true and always made Tangerine smile to himself. During any public outing, Tan was always close - we've established this - but he liked to play a small game. One of your love languages was physical touch, so, you liked kissing him if even just for a single second. He was aware of your lipstick, feeling the tacky substance stain his cheek, but he wouldn't wipe it off. His game was to see how long it'd take before someone would point it out; his reputation didn't always warrant others to feel secure enough to speak up. Some nights, Lemon would motion to his cheek, and other nights, you'd return home, remove your make-up, and swipe make-up remover over his cheek to clear the color away.
However, it wasn't often you ventured in public due to Tangerine's innate introverted nature. You went if The Agency made it mandatory or if you were feeling stir crazy, but majority nights, Lemon would find you both lounged on the couch in various positions.
Sometimes, you'd be watching a movie together or binging a show. Other times, you were reading a book while Tangerine poured over paperwork. And once or twice, Lemon's come home to find you belly laughing and playfully scolding Tangerine as he tried to paint your toe nails. It was a homey sight to Lemon: seeing his brother so in love and at ease, hearing your laughter, the entire flat filled with warm smells of burning candles and homemade meals.
It wasn't evident at first, but with you laying in Tangerine's arms, clothes left on the floor, bellies full of whatever meal you had prepared that evening, favorite show playing on the bedroom TV, he realized that he loved what you had done with the place.
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requesting rules and masterlist
Bullet Train masterlist
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hyunniesgirl · 2 months
Text
Stupid in love
Pairing: Seo Changbin x reader
Genre: angst, fluff
Summary: less than a month into the wedding, you get into a big fight with Changbin. When you think he's going to call it quits, he makes sure to show you that you're very much wrong.
Requested: yes
Warnings: a bit suggestive
All my works are for +18 audiences, minors do NOT interact!!
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You park in front of your house, the lights are on, your fiance is home. He's home and he stood you up. You're mad but mostly you're sad, you're overwhelmed and so tired, exhausted, actually.
You enter the house, hearing sounds in the kitchen, you don't even want to look at him right now. You want to yell at him, argue but you don't even have the energy to do that, so you just take your shoes off, leaving your coat hanging by the door and walking silently to the stairs so you can go to your room, wash up and just sleep until morning comes and you can pretend this day never happened.
“You're home?” You hear Changbin's voice as soon as you go up the first step to the second floor.
“Yes”, you say, continuing to go up.
You hear his footsteps coming after you, but you don't stop, you want to close the door right on his face.
“I ordered food”, he says again, confused as to why you didn't kiss him when you arrived or why you're not looking at him.
“I'm not hungry”, you say simply, stopping in front of the mirror to take your jewelry off. You give up on the idea of closing the door on his face, you don't want to hurt him even though you're furious. You take off your earrings, watching him through the reflection of the mirror. He's looking at you with a frown on his face, trying to figure out why you're angry, he's sure he didn't do anything this time.
“Are you mad?” He asks, naively.
“What do you think?” You ask back, glaring at his reflection.
“I think you are”, he pouts.
“Then you already have your answer”, you say, finishing taking the bracelets and rings off your fingers.
You turn around, walking past him and going to the bathroom to wash up, hearing his footsteps after you again. You sigh, why won't he leave you alone?
“I'm not sure what I did wrong this time”, Changbin clarifies, trying to make you tell him what's wrong.
You laugh, looking to the ceiling and trying to calm down. Turning to look at him and leaning on the bathroom counter, looking at your fiance with your arms crossed in front of your chest.
“I really don't know if I should feel less angry that you genuinely forgot about our cake tasting today and not just chose to ignore what I've been planning for months”, you say through gritted teeth, watching the panic form on the face of the man in front of you.
“I-it was today?” He stutters, patting his pants to find his phone and check on his agenda just to find the event he had scheduled on his calendar to be exactly today. “I didn't mean it”, he says, running his hand through his hair. “I had so many meetings today, I just got home”, he explains.
“I guess your work will always be your top priority”, you scoff, feeling tears starting to brim on your eyes.
“Don't be like that”, Changbin sighs, “you know you are my top priority but I'm not just an employee, I'm the CEO”, he pleads, you know that and you're so tired of that.
“I'm well aware of your position in the company”, you laugh, rolling your eyes. “That’s why I never say anything when you come home late or when I'm all ready for a date and you have to reschedule it because something came up”, you sigh, “I only asked this one thing of you: that you show up when we have something related to the wedding but you couldn't even do that for me”, you cry out, feeling the tears running out of your eyes.
“You're talking like I did this on purpose”, he murmurs, hurt showing in his eyes.
“I'm not saying this to make you feel guilty”, you run your hands through your hair, “you don't know how humiliating it was to wait for you there for three hours, Ryujin and my mom told me to reschedule but I told them that you were going to show up”, you take a deep breath, “jokes on me, I guess I'm the only one who cares about this fucking wedding”
“You're not the only one who cares”. He says with his voice a pitch higher, it happens when he gets nervous. “I'm trying to clean my schedule so we can go on our honeymoon without me having to worry about work. I have so many meetings every day and I have to pass all the work to my secretary so nothing goes wrong while I'm away”
“Maybe we shouldn't be doing this”, you whisper, putting your hands on your sides and squeezing the fabric of your shirt.
“Are you being for real?” He asks, incredulous, anger and resentment flooding his mind.
You regretted saying it the moment the sentence left your mouth, but unfortunately you can't unsay something, all the more something so hurtful as that.
“I-” you step closer to him, but Changbin steps back, shaking his head.
“I need to think”, he turns to the door, walking away and leaving you behind.
You're such an idiot, how could you say that to him? It doesn't matter how angry you are, there's no excuse to hurt someone you love like that. You feel the tears falling down your eyes while your knees give in and you fall on the floor, crying your eyes out. Did you ruin everything? Is he going to call off the wedding? Is he sick of you now?
Hours go by, you walk back and forth in the house, waiting for his car to park in front of the house but it doesn't come, he doesn't show up. Did he leave you? You should expect that much after what you said.
You lie down on your bed, hugging his pillow, feeling his scent and crying until the exhaustion from the day makes you fall asleep.
You're awake with rustling in the room, you open your eyes widely, seeing Changbin packing. Oh, he's leaving you already? Without even trying to talk?
You feel your tears showing up again and a sob escapes your lips, being followed by more sobs and wailing, making the man turn around to look at you scared.
“Hey, what's wrong?” He runs to you, jumping on the bed by your side and hugging your body, squeezing your cheek on his chest while he caresses your hair. “Did you have a nightmare?” He asks, worried and you shake your head.
“You shouldn't be nice if you're going to dump me”, you cry more, sobbing in his arms.
“Excuse me?” He holds you by the shoulders, pushing you away so he can look at your red and puffy face. “What are you talking about?”
“You're packing because you're calling off the wedding, right?” You point to the bags, “you hate me now, I know you do”, you cry more, burying your face on his chest, soaking his shirt with your tears.
“Bunny, look at me”, he repeats his action from before, pushing you so he can look at your eyes. “Why would I leave my beautiful and kind fiance?” He asks, smiling gently at you.
“Because I was mean, I didn't really mean that we shouldn't get married, I really want to marry you”, you start mumbling, making him chuckle.
“That's great, because I still really want to marry you too”, he clarifies, coming closer and kissing your forehead. “I was packing because I'll be kidnapping you today”, he smirks, watching your eyes glow with expectation.
“Where are we going?” You ask him but he shakes his head.
“It's not a kidnapping if you know where I'm taking you”, he looks at the watch on his wrist, “you have exactly ten minutes to get ready, if I come back here and you're not done I'll take you with me anyway”, he informs you.
“Binnie!”, you pout, “I can't even take a shower in ten minutes”
“Too bad for you then, you better get to work. Tik tok”, he jokes, making you huff, jumping from the bed and running to the bathroom.
You take the quickest shower you have ever took, hurrying to the bathroom counter to brush your teeth with one hand while brushing your hair with the other, thinking about what you're going to wear. You're sure this is his revenge, he's torturing you because you were mean to him.
You figure you still have two minutes before he shows up, so you put on jeans and a long sleeve shirt.
“Times up”, Changbin's head pops on the door, a smug smile on his lips.
“I didn't even put any makeup on”, you plead, looking at the things you need right in front of you.
“Nope, don't even think about it”, he walks up to you, chuckling when you pout. You're ready to fight him on that, when he grabs you by the hips, throwing you on his shoulder.
“Binnie! What are you doing?” You kick and wiggle trying to make him release you.
“It's not a kidnapping if you go with me willingly”, he points out, making you laugh, he's unbelievable. This man is insane.
“I can't believe you”, you sigh when he drops you on the passenger's seat of his car, fastening your seatbelt. You watch as he walks around the front of the car and gets in the car. While you watch him turning on the engine and starting to drive, you wanna cry again. You just love him too much.
“I'm sorry about yesterday”, you bite on your bottom lip, “I was really exhausted and angry but that's not an excuse to say those things to you”
Changbin nods, stopping at a red light and looking at you.
“Let's just say we are even now”, he grins, grabbing your hand and giving you a quick peck on the lips.
When you arrive at the airport, he tells you to cover your eyes the whole time until you get into the plane, making sure you have no idea where you're going. When you finally see Jeju island through the plane's window, you look at him excitedly, just to find the man taking a nap. He must have stayed awake all night long, making this trip happen. You watch as his chest rises and falls, slowly, his dark hair covering his eyes.
You really don't know what you would do if he really had called the wedding off, maybe you would have begged but something you're sure is that you wouldn't be able to let him go.
As soon as the plane lands, you wake him up, shaking him a bit. His eyes flutter open and he smiles at you, brushing his fingers on his eyes to help him wake up.
“Shall we?” He offers his hand to you, seeing you nod and take his hand. Changbin stands up, pulling you with him, walking behind the people getting out of the plane.
You feel like the sun shines brighter in Jeju, the weather is warm and nice, like the perfect day for a trip. After renting a car, you two drive to the hotel, Changbin has everything ready with a suite already reserved for you.
You're a bit tired, after barely sleeping at night you are a bit sleepy but you won't go to sleep, you want to enjoy every minute you can with your man.
“I'm going to take a shower and later we can go to the beach”, you tell him, stepping closer to wrap your arms around his waist and to give him a peck on the lips.
“Should I let you, though?” He wraps his arms around you, “maybe I should keep you stuck in bed with me, paying for being so mean to me”, he smirks.
“You know damn well that that wouldn't be a punishment”, you step away, pushing him a bit.
“But I deserve compensation”, Changbin points out. “Don't I?” He grins, making you sigh.
You throw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Enough for you to be able to touch his lips with yours, feeling his hot breath mixing with yours, his scent is just intoxicating you feel like you can go insane at any moment.
He wraps his arms around your waist, pressing you against him, seizing the opportunity and pushing you against the wall. You sigh when he pulls away from you, landing kisses down your jaw and neck, sucking on your soft skin.
“Stop right there mister”, you come to your senses, pushing him away, making him whine. “Did you bring me here just to have sex?” You squeeze your eyes, judging him.
“No, I just can't resist you”, he pouts, giving in. “You can take your shower, I'll wait”
He gives you a quick kiss and turns around, walking to the bed and sitting on the edge, sighing dramatically.
You try to walk normally, but your legs are about to give in. Changbin mustn't know the power he has over you, you'll be done for if he ever finds out.
You two walk by the beach, watching the sunset. He holds your hand with both of his, caressing yours dearly while watching you.
“You know, I love you”, he says out of nowhere, making you turn to look at him. You blush, as if you have never heard that before.
“I love you too”, you answer.
“I don't think you understand the depth of my love for you, though”, he clarifies. “The fact that you thought I was going to call everything off because of a fight shows that you're not aware of the hold you have on me”, the man steps closer, lifting one of his hands to your face and caressing your cheek. “Y/N, I love you when you're kinda, I love you when you're smart and I love you when you're funny, but I also love you when you're angry, I love you when you are upset and I love you when you're sad. I love you every hour, every minute and every second of the day and unless you dump me, I won't let you go so easily.” He smiles, chuckling to your eyes brimming with tears, you're such a cry baby.
“I'm not a lyricist like you, so I'm not as good with expressing myself”, you tell him, wiping your eyes, “but I love you so much, you have no idea how much I do. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and I promise I'll prove my love to you everyday”, you smile, giving him a quick kiss. “I don't want to wait three weeks to be your wife”
“Then, let's not wait”, Changbin suggests, kissing the back of your hand. He chuckles seeing the confusion on your face. “Let's get married today, no guests, no fancy party, just you and me and probably two strangers to be our witnesses”
“What are you talking about?” You ask, confused but you can't help the smile that grows on your lips.
“Let's register our marriage right now, we can do the big party later as we planned but right now we can do it just you and me, what do you think?” He asks, hopeful. You give him the biggest smile, throwing your arms around his neck and in a second his arms are wrapped around your waist, spinning with you, making you giggle excitedly.
You and Changbin run to the city, buying him a suit and a white sundress for you. Outside of the register office, you find two people nice enough to agree on witnessing your wedding. Your fiance prepared two rings made of flowers that would probably not last more than a day, but the important thing isn't anything like that. The most important thing is the spark in his eyes when he's looking at you, while waiting to sign the papers. The most important thing is how he presses his lips on your knuckles after putting on the flower ring on your finger. The most important thing is that you're husband and wife now. And that you'll never ever let go of each other.
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chigirizzz · 7 months
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❝𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞, 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲❞
synopsis: how your fist kiss with him is like
characters: gojo, yuji, megumi
tags: gn! reader, not proofread as always (it's 3am for crying out loud)
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— GOJO SATORU
gojo is a tease and that’s no news for you, it’s not new to anyone. this man’s actions and words either make someone respect him or desire to kill him.
yet, it surprised you how much he could tease you before and during your first kiss.
gojo fucking satoru made sure to make your life hard as hell after finding out how you, even past your mid twenties, never had a kiss. 
“never?” 
“never,” you responded by repeating the word in a cold tone of voice, arms crossed and sending him a dead glare. however, he did not felt intimidated by you—
—instead, he just burst out laughing and looked at you like you were a middle schooler still finding out about life.
that’s how your memory can recall that day. god, you hate him!
and you hate how you never got to experience such a magical moment yet!
but patience is a virtue, right? that’s what people say. and that’s what you’re thinking right now as gojo’s big hand imprisons your head movement by holding your chin firmly. his hold isn’t too strong and neither too loose—perfect to give his lips the chance to dominate yours and perfect for you to free yourself and slap him if that’s what you wish to do. 
but you don’t do that, so his lips curve into a malicious smirk, which gives an electrical shock to a certain corner of your brain—which makes your mouth let it escape a satisfying sound to his ears.
he’s enjoying this. he’s enjoying this so much and so are you.
today was like any normal day, including the newest jokes and teases from gojo satoru about how no one ever felt attracted to you enough to kiss you. although you know the white haired male never wanted to hurt you and it was just teasing, the comment he told you today really hurt you, making you sad and defending yourself to gojo (and calling him stupid).
he listened quietly to your rant. his blindfold made it difficult for you to understand how sorry he was, though.
gojo moves his hand from your chin to the back of your neck, his body language now a bit more rough—his lips more angry for yours by the way he tilts his head slightly to side, guiding you on your make out session, occasionally leaving a chuckle when you desperately try to follow his movements.
you are so cute and he feels so superior in this exact moment.
one of your hands moves by itself to grab the cloth's fabric that covers his chest when you suddenly feel his teeth on your neck. he wasn’t doing anything special yet, just mouth slightly open with his teeth ready to give you a hickey.
“satoru…”
“hm.” despite him answering your call, gojo didn’t pay attention very much; instead, he chose to snuggle into the warm skin of your neck, searching for comfort. wanting to be close with you. 
the hand that was close to his chest is now on his back, patting awkwardly but softly. “i…” you cleared your throat. you’re pretty sure he could feel your nervousness. “i hate how you make me feel.”
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— ITADORI YUJI
no words to describe how adorable he is.
this sweet boy took you on a date to the oceanarium with a full plan inside his pants’ pocket:
take a shower
after shower, use the best perfume/deodorant (not axe!!)
go to y/n’s house to take them to the oceanarium
look for the best train seat available for y/n (has to be next to the window!!)
pay for the tickets
tell y/n lots of fun facts
kiss y/n
kiss y/n… kiss you…
now that’s a hard task.
in the three months you and itadori yuji were dating, no one had any complaints. the two of you were going at their specific pace, but still able to get out of your comfort zones, just for each other.
kissing you is an example of yuji getting out of his comfort zone—that, and he just loves you very much; the boy just wants to express himself. he cringes at how he stepped away from you awkwardly when you tried to kiss him on the day he confessed to you.
“that’s so cool!” you hugged the jellyfish plushie you bought in the oceanarium gift store tighter, its scent bringing you a feeling of peace. the both of you are currently outside, sitting on a bench at a nearby park, just speaking about today and listening to yuji’s fun facts about the aquarium animals. “tell me more.”
“uh, well… just a second!,” he excuses himself before searching for a piece of paper inside his pants’ pockets… he took one out of the pocket, read it, and realized it wasn’t the one he wanted. “just…—just a second! sorry!
your boyfriend is acting strange today—you noticed, anyone can notice—, but you opted to not say anything. however, you’re starting to become extremely curious.
the wrong piece of paper is roughly and badly stuffed back into his pocket, only for the panic to torment him again when said paper falls from the pocket to the ground.
“what’s this?” you ask no one in particular when you caught the paper before your boyfriend could do it.
“shit, no! give me that!”
“calm down, yuji, i’m trying to read it.”
the boy watches in horror as you slowly read the paper—the paper with the list.
that’s it, his life is over. he feels the pain of the embarrassment crushing him, getting more painful each millisecond. he can imagine how you’re gonna make fun of him, destroying his heart—
“you could’ve just told me, itadori,” your voice soothes his thoughts as you stare at him lovingly. “i would never judge you or anything.”
“after how i denied your kiss the day i confessed to you? me? denying your kiss? on the day i confessed? i’m a moron—”
the palms of your hands hold his cheeks gently. “you’re not a moron, my love—well, you are, but not in this context.”
all yuji got to say was an offended ‘hey!’ before you pulled him towards you, making him able to cross ‘kiss y/n’ out of his silly and now crumpled list.
even if there isn’t much experience between you both, you manage to work it out. it’s a simple but long-lasting kiss—at least that’s what you assume when you start to feel the need to breathe some new fresh air. but you don’t want to worry about oxygen, not when the feeling of his lips in touch with yours makes the blood vessels on your face dilate, making your blood warmer, making your heart beat faster.
you let go of him and breathe heavily, however, you do not get a proper pause because yuji starts kissing all over your face, while tickling your body too. the both of you turn into a mess of laughter and tiny kisses, completely enjoying the moment.
and perhaps you get the privilege to live something that resembles a cinematic masterpiece, as you both stop laughing and rest your foreheads against each other.
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— MEGUMI FUSHIGURO
the scenario is really simple: one minute you’re sitting side by side on the sofa while watching a terrible coming of age movie, pizza slice on your hand, all your worries forgotten thanks to the comfy blanket covering your laps, and the next minute you and the dark haired male are sitting in front of each other on the sofa, faces really close trying to mimic the stupid kissing scene at the end of the stupid movie.
“her hand was like this.”
“shut up, why do you want to make things so difficult.”
this was your idea, of course, a perfect excuse to kiss him. in months of dating, you never had the first kiss as a couple and you decided to tease him into doing it, saying how you wished to be kissed like in the ending scene of the movie and complaining how megumi could never do like the male protagonist did.
he knew you were just teasing him, but he felt the need to show you the opposite anyway.
first you were trying to position your heads and hands like the actors and sharing short kisses, until he got tired of the challenge and just pulled you for a kiss without you expecting it.
it was definitely way better than the one from the movie. it was rough at first but eventually it got softer and more romantic. he paid attention to your body language, to how you reacted to the kiss, and when his lips let go of yours so you both could breathe, he stared at you so lovingly you almost felt like melting, especially when his hand made contact with your cheek to caress it.
minutes passed and you were now cuddling each other, you laying on top of him and listening to his heartbeat and him giving you a small back massage, making sure that you felt loved (and that you didn’t say anything stupid again).
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houpss · 1 month
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𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝
soft and fluff, will be about all members (!), there may be hints of smut
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Chan, who sees the meaning of life in you and wants to see you always in front of him all his life.
What do they say? People who truly love will die one day.
Chan, who promised to love you until the day death finds him, and even after that. He doesn't want to leave you.
The most tender dates, the most tender times. He will give you all his love and attention.
Chan, who tells the members so much about you, you are their “9th member”
Chan, who you're talking to video call with his family! and btw with yours too.
Chan, who, regardless of how busy the day is, will spend the evenings with you. Whether it's cooking or watching a movie/serials/k drama
Chan, who remembers every little thing about you and does what you don’t even ask for, but are clearly thinking about.
Meeting Chan was fate, maybe you were given each other by fate?
Oh..he looks at you like an angel, his eyes shine so brightly when he sees you!
Chan, who gives you a large bouquet of your favorite flowers every Friday.
He writes you songs, from the sad to the most vulgar... oh, the boy is simply overwhelmed with emotions for you.
Chan, who takes you on all his world tours because he finds it difficult without you.
He is the most gentle and sweetest with you! your heart literally breaks with love for him, you want to love and kiss this man.
Chan, who sits you on his lap while he works and holds your waist with one hand...babe, he has hot and big hands
Chan, who pays for ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING for you. seriously, even if you argue with him.
I wrote this situation, but...
"Channie, make me some coffee please"
"Ugh...I'm late, little mouse"
"So you won't do it? :("
"That means I’ll be late” and goes to make coffee for his beloved woman/man
His favorite terms of endearment for you are subtle but classic: “sweetheart” and “baby,” but on special occasions he will call you “sweetheart” with a matching saccharine expression. Or “little mouse”, which is also very cute
Chan, sometimes he can get angry and yell at you, but that's because he puts too much pressure on himself at work.
Oh..during your quarrels even plates and insults fly. After one quarrel, there were broken plates and you cut yourself, he noticed this and took you to the bathroom, where he treated the wound and apologized to you almost a hundred times. And the plates...buy new ones.
Chan, who practices flirting with you like you're in high school, but he learned it from STAY
Chan, who gives you all his hoodies and absolutely everything... for some reason you love to steal his shorts and walk around the house in them. Ooh, he thinks they fit really sexy on your hips.
He'll give you a bear hug when you sleep, he's a big spoon
He also always kisses your forehead when he leaves for work, because you are still sleeping, and he is already leaving.
but keep in mind, Chan makes sweet sex to you, but his stroking game is so crazy, even when he takes his time with you, he's so deep inside you that it drives you crazy, you're literally pray
Chan is an experienced and mature man, he is completely confident in himself and in you. He takes the leading position in the relationship, he is the one who leads.
Do I need to tell you that all his things smell like your perfume? What if all your things are in his perfume?
You sometimes help him with lyrics or with song arrangements when he gets stuck and doesn’t understand what’s best to add.
You, who pulls the vat out of the studio.
You, who always checks how he ate or how much he slept. You absolutely monitor his regime and make sure he doesn’t overwork.
You are flying to Australia together to visit his family! they will bless your couple.
Hannah will definitely say funny things about Chris, and Lucas is so shy around you.
Oh...Berry, baby Berry 🥹🥹🥹
How about date nights?
You really raised Chan's self-esteem, with you...he fell in love with himself, just as you love him.
He's just grateful that you exist.
First love is always last love.
“Home” is not a place, it is sometimes only a man, the man whom you consider your home.
When you come, all Chan’s problems and wounds heal, he wants to live next to you.
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thewulf · 1 month
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Forever Yours || Paul Lahote
Summary: Request -Okay so reader is Bella's (fraternal) twin sissy. She moved to Forks with Bella and the whole first book happens WITHOUT her knowing what's going on. She's just as in the dark as Charlie is..... Read Rest Here
A/N: LOVED THIS. LOVE TWILIGHT. Keep them coming!! Thank you for the requests as always!
Pairing: Paul Lahote x Swan Sister Reader
Word Count: 4.0k
TW: Possessiveness
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You and your sister, Bella, had always gotten along well even being so different. She was the shy twin who always stood behind you. You on the other hand always fought Bella’s battles because she needed it, that’s what sisters were for. The two of you weren’t identical, and your personalities could not have been more different. Yet, at the end of the day, she was the person you knew would always understand you. She was your best friend and confidant. So, when she proposed moving back in with Charlie you followed along with her.
Things changed when the two of you moved to Forks and not in a way you liked. She began distancing herself from you after she met Edward. Instead of coming home and gossiping about your respective days she started going to the Cullen’s house. She stopped telling you things. She became protective and oh so secretive over her boyfriend. You confided in Charlie more than you could ever expect. You hung out with Jessica and Angela more than you would’ve ever dreamed. Still, you looked after your sister. She was the shy one who fell hard and fast. For whatever reason you just couldn’t seem to trust Edward. When she finally let the two of you meet he was just off and you couldn’t seem to pinpoint what it was.
It wasn't until the departure of Edward Cullen, leaving Bella desolate and shattered, that the mysterious shroud enveloping your lives began to unravel at a rapid pace. As Bella struggled to navigate through the abyss of heartbreak, you tried your hardest to be the strength that she needed. But it often felt like you were failing her. Like nothing you could say would offset any of the heartbreak she was feeling. And you were angry. Angry at the stupid family that decided to vanish without a trace. For even though Edward seemed off he seemed like he truly was deeply in love with your sister.
Your only saving grace was your old friend Jacob. He found a way to bring your shattered twin back to the surface of the water she was struggling to swim in. The three of you spent so many nights together doing everything and nothing at the same time. Laughing till your faces were blue and finding the human connection she so desperately needed. You could never thank him enough for bringing back your sister you had lost for so many months.
But even that wasn’t enough for him to leave. When Jacob withdrew from both of your lives you became the sad twin. It was Bella who became angry like you were so many months prior. Bella forced you in the truck one afternoon claiming she had a bone to pick with the second boy who abandoned her in so many months. You had no desire to see the boy, but Bella demanded you come with her.
You watched as she pounded on the door of his home only to be met with nothing. You waited in the truck as Bella noticed Sam and his pack off to the side of Jacob’s home. Her footsteps treaded the path towards Sam and his pack, heart pounding with a mixture of apprehension and anticipation. It was only when you saw her physically push Sam, the leader of the tribe, did you bolt out of the car trying to catch your sister from doing anything too drastic.
"Bella, stop!" you cried out, your voice tinged with desperation as you rushed forward. Your heart was hammering desperately in your chest, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within you as you reached out towards Bella, hoping to stop the impending confrontation.
But it was too late. Bella's palm has already met one of the dark-haired boys cheeks with a sharp crack, the sound reverberating through the trees. You watch in dismay as the man’s expression darkened. His features contorted with fury, a primal growl rumbling in his chest that even startled you. The forest seemed to hold its breath as the world became silent at what the next move of the man could possibly be. You gulped feeling the tension thick in the air.
And then, in the midst of the events that were unfolding. You looked to the men in front of you looking at each of them one by one before your eyes finally met the one who had just been slapped. His gaze locked onto yours, a fleeting moment of connection amidst the tumult that surrounded you. In that instant, everything seemed to crystallize, the world narrowing down to just the two of you even with all the people surrounding you.
Timed seemed to slow to an utter crawl. The world around you faded into insignificance as your attention was locked in on the man. A sharp gasp came from you as you continued staring right at him. It was a feeling you had never experienced in this lifetime. Something you could never have expected. He too couldn’t seem to break his gaze away from yours. In that fleeting instant, everything seems to shift. The air crackled with anticipation, the forest holding its breath as the weight of the moment bears down upon you. It's as if the universe itself has paused, allowing you and Paul to exist in a suspended state of existence, isolated from the disorder that rages beyond the confines of your shared gaze.
As Paul staggers backwards, a whirlwind of emotions courses through his mind, each feeling vying for dominance over the others. Anger, once burning bright within him, now dissipates like mist in the morning sun, leaving behind a hollow sense of bewilderment and wonder. His chest heaves with the effort of controlling the torrent of feelings threatening to overwhelm him. He had felt every single emotion. Saw every single emotion. You were her. You were his imprint. Only Sam had been so lucky to have found his person. And now Paul did. And he didn’t even know her name nor you his.
To your surprise you felt your feet moving forward as he dropped to his knees on the forest floor. Paul was acutely aware of the weight of this moment. He had to wonder what you were feeling. You too were locked in on his own eyes, yet you could have no idea what was going on and how chaotic your seemingly normal life was about to get. But amidst the heaviness of the moment, there is something else—a glimmer of hope, a spark of possibility that ignites within him like a flame in the darkness. For in your eyes, he sees not just a reflection of his own turmoil, but also a flicker of understanding, a shared recognition of the bond that now binds the two of you together.
"What... what just happened?" Bella's voice wavers, her eyes wide with disbelief as she looks between you and Paul. But you have no answers to offer, you were just as confused as she was. While Bella's voice wavers with disbelief, her eyes dart between you, Paul, and the surrounding men, searching for answers amidst the bewildering scene.
Embry, who had been standing nearby with Sam, catches your eye with a knowing smirk, a hint of understanding dancing in his gaze. He stepped forward, as if he's seen this scenario play out before. "Looks like we've got ourselves an imprint," Embry remarks, his voice tinged with amusement as he addresses Sam, who watches the unfolding scene with a composed yet cautious demeanor.
Sam nods in acknowledgment, his expression unreadable as he assesses the situation before him. His eyes shifted between you and Paul with a measured intensity, as if gauging the depth of the bond that now connects you.
Meanwhile, the boy you had originally came to see, Jacob, came sprinting out of the house that he had just ignored Bella from. His expression a mix of surprise and concern as he takes in the scene before him. His eyes narrow as they settle on Paul, a flicker of protectiveness crossing his features before he turns to you, his look softening with understanding in your utter confusion. Yet in all that was happening so fast you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from this man. He had captured your mind, body, and soul all within a single look.
"Y/N, are you okay?" Jacob asks, his voice gentle yet tinged with worry as he approaches, his footsteps echoing against the damp grass.
You finally tore your gaze away from Paul somehow, your heart racing as you meet Jacob's concerned gaze. Despite the frenzy that surrounds you, his presence offers a sense of comfort, a reminder of the unwavering support that has always been there for you, negating the two weeks he had decided to ignore you for.
"I don't know what happened," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper as you try to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions that flowed through you so unexpectedly. "But I feel... different."
Bella's eyes widen in disbelief, her mind racing to comprehend the incomprehensible. But amidst the uncertainty that envelops you all, one thing remains clear—the ties that bind you to Paul, are unbreakable, defying logic and reason with an undeniable force.
"Jacob," Sam's voice cuts through the silence, his tone firm yet tinged with a hint of urgency. "Take them to Emily's. We need to talk." He motions towards Paul who was still on his knees before you.
Jacob nods in acknowledgment, his gaze flickering between you, Paul, and Sam, a silent understanding passing between them. He moves forward, his hand reaching out to gently guide you away from Paul, his touch reassuring in the confusion that surrounds you.
"Come on, Y/N, Bella," Jacob murmurs softly, "Let's go."
As Jacob reaches out to guide you away from Paul, a low, guttural growl rumbles deep within Paul's chest just as it had earlier after Bella has slapped him. His possessiveness flaring in the face of Jacob's touch. His eyes narrow, a primal instinct driving him to protect what he now considers his own.
"Hands off my girl," Paul's voice is low, but the irritated edge to it is unmistakable as he stands to takes a step towards you. His eyes never left yours. The intensity of his declaration sends a shiver down your spine, his unwavering stare holding you in a trance.
But Sam, ever the voice of reason among the sea of emotions, steps forward with a measured stride. His expression unwavering as he addresses Paul with a firm yet understanding tone. “Paul, calm down," Sam's voice carries authority, tempered with a hint of empathy as he meets Paul's frustration head-on. "We need to talk, separately. She will be just fine with Jacob."
Paul's protest is immediate, his feelings for you overwhelmingly strong. "No, she's not going anywhere without me," he insists, his voice tinged with desperation as he takes a defiant step forward, his resolve unyielding.
But Sam's gaze holds steady, his alpha like authority asserting itself in the face of Paul's defiance. "Paul, stand down," he commands, his voice brooking no argument as he meets Paul's gaze with unwavering determination. Paul winces but gives into Sam’s demands, though the reluctance is evident in the tension that lingers in his frame. His eyes remain locked on you, a silent promise of protection and devotion burning brightly within their depths.
While Jacob leads you away from Paul you can't help but feel torn between the conflicting desires that rage within you. Part of you longs to stay by Paul's side, to bask in the warmth of his unwavering love. While another part recognizes the need for clarity and understanding in the sheer confusion that threatens to consume you. And as you and Bella follow Jacob through the dense undergrowth of the forest you can't shake the feeling of Paul's presence lingering at the edges of your consciousness, a constant reminder of the inexplicable bond that now defines your existence.
Jacob guides you and Bella through a trail in the forest, a heavy silence hangs in the air, punctuated only by the rustling of leaves and the distant calls of unseen creatures. Sensing the need to break the tension, Jacob takes a deep breath before breaking the uncomfortable silence. "Look, I need to tell you both something," Jacob begins, his voice cautious yet resolute. "But it's going to sound... well, it's going to sound crazy."
You and Bella exchange a puzzled glance, the weight of Jacob's words settling uneasily in the pit of your stomachs. You've both sensed that there's more to the Quileute tribe than meets the eye, but the truth remains shrouded in mystery.
Jacob takes a moment to gather his thoughts before coming out with it. "The thing is... we're not exactly... normal," he admits, his words halting as he struggles to find the right way to explain the inexplicable. "We're... werewolves."
The revelation hangs in the air like a heavy fog, enveloping you and Bella in a cloud of disbelief. For a moment, neither of you can find the words to respond, the enormity of Jacob's confession leaving you speechless. "Werewolves?" Bella's voice is barely above a whisper, her eyes wide with shock as she looks to Jacob for confirmation.
Jacob nods solemnly, his expression grave as he meets Bella's gaze. "Yes. And there's something else. Something called imprinting."
You nodded along, “That’s what the one guy just said. We’ve got ourselves an imprint? What is that?” You asked pressing him further.
Jacob smiled knowing that your life was going to change, hopefully for the better. "It's when a wolf finds their soulmate. Their other half. The one person they're meant to be with for the rest of their lives." Bella's brow furrows in confusion, her mind struggling to comprehend the magnitude of what Jacob is telling her. But you, on the other hand, feel a strange sense of recognition stir within you, a faint echo of the inexplicable connection you felt with Paul.
As Bella sighs with uncertainty, Jacob senses the weight of her confusion and seeks to provide clarity. "And... and what does that have to do with what happened back there?" Bella asks, her voice laden with hesitance as she gestures back in the direction of Paul and the pack.
Jacob's gaze flickers towards you, a silent acknowledgment passing between you as he prepares to reveal the truth. "It means that... Paul imprinted on you, Y/N," he explains gently, his eyes filled with compassion as he meets your bewildered gaze. "He's your soulmate."
“Paul.” You whispered his name out loud for the first time. Paul, your soulmate. Your heart skips a beat at the revelation, the words sinking in slowly as you struggle to comprehend the enormity of what Jacob is saying. Soulmates? It's a concept you never thought you'd entertain, let alone experience firsthand.
"Soulmate?" Bella's voice echoes your thoughts, her eyes widening in astonishment as she turns to you for confirmation.
You nod slowly, the reality of the situation beginning to sink in. "I... I don't understand it all," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper as you grapple with the implications of Jacob's words as the three of you walked through the forest to what you assumed to be Emily’s place, whomever that was.
Jacob offers you a reassuring smile, his expression filled with understanding. "It's okay, Y/N. I know it's a lot to take in," he says softly, his tone gentle yet firm. "An imprint is... it's like finding your other half. Your perfect match. And for Paul, that's you."
Bella's eyes widen in realization, her mind racing to process the revelation. "So... he's bound to her? Like... forever?" she asks, her voice tinged with uncertainty as she seeks to grasp the intricacies of the imprinting process.
Jacob nods solemnly. "Yeah. It's a permanent bond," he explains, his tone heavy with the weight of the truth. "But it doesn't have to be romantic. It can be... it can be like a best friend too. Someone who's always there for you, no matter what."
The realization washes over you like a tidal wave, the enormity of the situation sinking in as you come to terms with the truth of Paul's imprint. It's a bond that transcends the boundaries of time and space, forging a connection between two souls that can never be broken.
And as you walked surrounded by the whispering of the trees and the steady presence of Jacob by your side, you find yourself beginning to accept the truth of your newfound destiny. The road ahead may be filled with uncertainty, but with the unwavering support of your sister and the friendship of Jacob, you know that you'll face whatever challenges may come your way head-on.
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As you, Bella, and Jacob step into Emily's cozy kitchen, the aroma of freshly baked muffins envelops you, a comforting contrast to the whirlwind of emotions swirling within. Emily's warm smile greets Jacob, her eyes alight with joy as she rushes forward to embrace him.
"Jacob, it's been too long!" Emily exclaims, her voice filled with genuine affection as she pulls back to look at him.
Jacob returns her embrace, offering a sheepish grin. "I know, Em. It's good to see you," he replies warmly.
Emily's gaze then shifts to you and Bella, her smile widening as she takes in your presence. "And who do we have here?" she asks, her tone friendly and inviting.
Jacob gestures towards you and Bella. "Emily, this is Y/N and Bella Swan," he introduces, a sense of pride evident in his voice. "They're new to town, and we thought I'd bring them by to meet you." He spoke referencing the pack as a whole. It was intriguing watching him operate now that you knew why he up and disappeared on you those weeks ago.
Emily's eyes widen with recognition as she looks at Bella. "Ah, the Swan sisters! Charlie's girls. I’ve heard a lot about you two," she remarks with a knowing nod. Then her gaze shifts to Bella, and her expression changes to one of surprise. "And you're the vampire girl, aren't you?"
Your heart nearly stops at Emily's words, the revelation hitting you like a sudden jolt. Vampire girl? You exchange a bewildered glance with Bella, who looks equally taken aback. Edward was a vampire? What next… mermaids?
"What? Bella? Vampires?" you stammer, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you struggle to comprehend Emily's words.
Bella's face turns crimson, her embarrassment palpable as she shoots you an apologetic glance. Her eyes told you that she would explain it all later. "Emily, I'm so sorry," she begins, her voice tinged with mortification. "Y/N, this is... um... kind of a long story."
As the truth about vampires and the supernatural world of Forks begins to unfold, you can't help but feel overwhelmed by the enormity of it all. But amidst the confusion and embarrassment, there's a sense of shared understanding that together you'll navigate the challenges that lie ahead. As the conversation continues in Emily's kitchen, laughter and chatter filling the air, the sound of approaching footsteps draws your attention. Sam, Paul, and Embry enter the room, their expressions relaxed and jovial as they exchange banter with Jacob.
"Hey, look who decided to join the party!" Jacob teases, a playful grin spreading across his face as he greets his packmates.
Sam chuckles, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Couldn't stay away, could we?" he retorts, a hint of mischief in his voice as he exchanges friendly jabs with Jacob.
Paul's gaze finds yours amidst the commotion, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Y/N," he says, his voice gentle yet earnest as he steps forward, his eyes meeting yours with a depth of emotion that leaves you breathless.
"Paul," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper as you meet his gaze, a rush of anticipation coursing through you at the prospect of speaking with him alone.
Sensing the unspoken tension between you and Paul, Jacob steps forward with a knowing smile. "I'll leave you two to get to know each other," he says, his tone light yet meaningful as he gives you a subtle nod of encouragement.
As Jacob and the others retreat away from the kitchen to give you and Paul some privacy, you find yourselves alone in the midst of Emily's bustling kitchen. The air crackles with anticipation as Paul takes a step closer, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that sets your heart racing. "Y/N, I wanted to talk to you," Paul begins, his voice soft yet filled with determination as he gathers his thoughts. "About what happened earlier. About us. If that’s okay with you."
You swallow hard, the weight of Paul's words hanging heavy in the air as you search for the right response. "Paul, I... I don't even know where to begin," you admit, your voice trembling with uncertainty as you struggle to find the words to express the whirlwind of emotions that threaten to overwhelm you completely.
But Paul reaches out, his hand finding yours with a gentle touch that sends a shiver down your spine. "We'll figure it out together, Y/N," he says, his voice filled with conviction. "Whatever happens, I'll always be here for you. I promise you that."
As you stand there, enveloped in the warmth of Paul's presence, a soft blush tinges your cheeks as you struggle to find the right words to express the swirl of emotions coursing through you. Your heart races with anticipation, your thoughts a jumble of uncertainty and longing. "This is all a lot," you murmur softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you meet his gaze with a shy smile. "But it's a good thing you're so... so handsome." You weren’t sure where that surge of confidence came from, maybe it was the bond. But even you couldn’t deny the sheer beauty of the man that stood before you. You feel a rush of exhilaration mixed with nervousness, unsure of how Paul will respond to your flirty compliment.
Paul's expression shifts, a mischievous twinkle dancing in his eyes as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Is that your way of saying you think I'm cute, Y/N?" he teases, his voice low and husky.
You bite your lip, a playful glint in your eyes as you meet his gaze. "Maybe," you reply coyly, a hint of flirtatiousness creeping into your tone as you lean in closer to him. "You'll just have to stick around to find out."
As a smirk tugs at the corners of Paul's lips, his gaze intensifies, locking onto yours with a magnetic pull that leaves you breathless. You feel a surge of anticipation coursing through your veins as he leans in even closer, the air crackling with electricity between you.
"Oh, I intend to, pretty girl" Paul murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers ripping through your body. His words are filled with promise, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he closes the distance between you, his breath warm against your skin. “Don’t you worry about that.”
A soft gasp escapes your lips as Paul's hand gently cups your cheek, his touch sending waves of warmth cascading through you. Your heart pounds in your chest as his lips brush against yours in a tantalizing whisper, a feather-light caress that ignites a fire deep within your soul.
"You're so beautiful, Y/N Swan," Paul whispers against your lips, his voice filled with sincerity and admiration. "I can't help but be drawn to you. I’m forever yours pretty girl."
The sweetness of his words sends your heart soaring, a rush of euphoria washing over you as you lose yourself in the intoxicating embrace of his affection. In that moment, all doubts and fears melt away, leaving only the undeniable connection between you and Paul, a bond forged in the flames of desire and longing. And as you surrender to the irresistible pull of his embrace, you can't help but feel a sense of bliss wash over you. With Paul by your side, you know that the journey ahead will be filled with laughter, passion, and endless moments of pure, unadulterated love.
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cupid-styles · 13 days
Text
golf (sugar daddy h)
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word count: 1.3k
content warnings: spicy but no smut, dirty talk, degradation, exhibitionism if you squint
sugar daddy h masterlist | main masterlist
talk to me
. . .
Mia doesn't care about golf. 
Not once in her life has she ever thought it was a fascinating sport. There are some sports, like hockey or baseball, that, at the very least, seem hot, if not a little attractive, but golf isn't one of those. 
And of course, Harry loves to golf.
It's nothing against him, really. If she's being honest, in her eyes, golf is a rich man's sport. Since they started seeing each other months ago, Harry has always made it a point to go golfing at least once a week. He has a membership to a country club nearby and either goes by himself, with his friends, or takes business partners there, where they spend the day drinking and hitting balls and whatever else wealthy people do at country clubs.
Mia wouldn't know because she's never gone and, quite frankly, she never wants to go. 
She adores Harry. She really, truly does, but being a frequent attender of the country club to play such a silly, boring sport just serves as another class barrier between them. Harry grew up going to golf camp, for crying out loud! Mia spent her summers working at the local ice cream shop, where she got paid $7 an hour to get yelled at by angry parents because she was only allowed to let their kids taste three flavors before they had to buy something.
So when Harry asks if she wants to spend her Saturday golfing with him at the club, she tries to come up with a million excuses as to why she can't. But because he's him, and he has a pretty face and a soothing voice and he threw in the prospect of spoiling her with a massage at the spa after they finished their game, she can't find it in her to say no. 
Harry has a business dinner the night before so Mia sleeps at her own place, which she's kind of surprised with, to be honest. (She anticipated him asking her to stay over so she didn't have a chance to get out of it.) Even despite the text he sent her at 11:40 pm to let her know that he got home safely (that's basically 2 am in Harry time), he shows up to her house in his golf clothes at 9 am on the dot, breakfast and coffee in hand. 
Mia has to physically drag herself out of bed to let him in, a scowl on her face, even though he went out of his way to go to her favorite bagel shop. 
"Morning, grumpy," he greets cheekily, smushing a kiss to her cheek. He doesn't even bother toeing his shoes off like he normally does, instead giving her bum a soft pat when she turns back around, "We have reservations at the club for 10, so you should go get dressed. You can eat in the car."
"Are you sure you want me to go?" Mia asks, and Harry has to ignore the slight hopefulness to her tone, "I've never even played golf before, I don't think I'll be very good—"
"It's not about being good, honey, I just want to spend the day with you. Show you off, y'know?" he leans forward to press a kiss to her temple before ducking down to catch her ear. "Now be good and go get dressed."
He doesn't catch the narrowing of her eyes as she reluctantly heads back to her bedroom, where she grabs the stupid golf outfit he insisted on buying her for this very occasion. She told him she was fine with wearing leggings and a tee-shirt, but he explained to her that there was a certain etiquette that came with golf, which included clothing. (Like Mia said, it's a rich man's sport.) So he bought her a short little skirt and a workout top and, if she's being frank, she's not sure if it's not more for him than it is for the game itself. 
She tried it on a few days ago when he brought it over and she batted at his chest when she saw the length of the skirt on her — unlike those trendy workout skorts that had spandex shorts underneath, the pleats of the one Harry purchased barely went down to the tops of her thighs. With a grumble, she said she'd just wear boyshorts to make sure no one "saw the goods."
But now that she's getting dressed for their golf day, she thinks she has a better idea. 
. . . 
Mia sucks at golf.
Harry keeps trying to encourage her and help her, but they're on hole 8 of 18, and she's exhausted. It's warm, she's sweaty, and Harry's beating her ass in the game. (What else would you expect from someone who spent their summer vacations playing every day?) 
"You got this, baby," he says, giving her waist a small squeeze as they approach hole nine. She rolls her eyes from behind her sunglasses, rolling out her wrist in an effort to get rid of the cramps. "Do you still need me to help you?"
Just as she's about to say yes, she remembers the impulsive decision she made this morning. And she realizes she knows exactly how to get this game to end. 
"Actually, I think I can do it," she replies with a smile, jumping out from the golf cart. "Will you just stand behind me and make sure I'm doing it right?"
Harry's pleasantly surprised but nods his head, a zip of enthusiasm firing through his chest. He follows her out and stands with his hands on his hips as she sets herself up, trying to find her stance. 
Per Harry's instructions, she leans over just slightly, a small bend in her knees. And that's when he sees it. 
She's not wearing anything underneath her skirt. 
"Mia," he growls, ambling towards her to cover her from behind, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
"Um, I think it's called teeing off? That's what you said, anyway—"
"Not that," he mutters, a protective hand squeezing her hip. He glances around them to make sure no one's watching them as his fingers dance down to the hem of her skirt, gently pulling it down. "Why aren't you wearing any underwear, Mia?"
"Ohhhh, that?" she asks, turning in his grasp. "I must've forgotten them. I'm sorry."
She has a look of false innocence on her face, her eyes rounded slightly and her lips pouted as if she was truly making a genuine apology. He's seething — he wants nothing more than to bend her over his knee and issue loud, harsh smacks to her ass, but he thinks she would like that too much. 
"You're such a fucking slut." he mumbles angrily, his jaw clenching. He grabs the golf club from her hand and uses his other to yank her back in the direction of the golf cart, a surprised yelp sounding from her mouth. "Are you that much of a brat that you've been walking around with your pussy out all day?"
She shrugs nonchalantly as she climbs into the golf cart. Harry rolls his eyes and shifts the key into the ignition, starting the machine back up. 
"Guess you'll just have to take me home, then," Mia replies with a sigh. Harry snorts and shakes his head. 
"You fucking wish," he says. She blinks at him. "No, baby. I'm gonna take you into one of those private bathrooms, edge you until you're crying, and then we're gonna finish this game."
Mia's eyes widen, shifting uncomfortably in her seat as he drives over a bump in the road. 
"Good thing I brought that nifty little remote control vibrator with me," he continues with a smirk. "Had a feeling you'd be a fuckin' brat today."
Mia doesn't know if she's ever regretted something so much before.
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