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604to647 · 2 days

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Barón Tovar Takes a Wife

Second Movement (Allegretto)

6K / Bridgerton AU Regency!Pero Tovar x fem!reader, a childhood best friends to lovers story

Summary: Pero continues to be a source of encouragement and support as you navigate the marriage mart.

Warnings: Some pining and light angst. Soft!Pero warning. Liberal use of Bridgerton characters and canon.

A/N: I'm sorry for any historical inaccuracies/liberties taken! Bridgerton inspired dividers by @saradika-graphics 🥰

Series Masterlist

You think you should have been warned that the days following season events are somehow always busier than the events themselves.

The morning after the Danbury ball, with hardly enough sleep and exhausted almost to the point of delirium, you find yourself yawning through Daphne’s chipper recitation of your schedule for the next few days. You must have agreed to it all while inhaling your breakfast, because you’re now dressed in a prim and proper powder blue frock, sitting prettily in the Bridgerton’s upstairs drawing room, waiting for what feels like the millionth young man you must have met last night to make your reacquaintance. Although there was no one who had caught your attention particularly at last night’s ball, you do recall several gentlemen being very pleasant and look forward to getting to know them better. Every visitor and potential suitor that waits for your audience today is afforded your full consideration and open heart, even if you are still very, very tired. And though the conversation gets repetitive and the gifts are slightly impersonal, you appreciate everyone’s efforts and invite them to return all the same.

---

It’s well after lunch by the time Pero steps into the front hall of Bridgerton House and is shown into the waiting room where he finds you and all the Bridgerton women in various states of exhaustion, draped over chaise lounges and chairs, while the Bridgerton men chat merrily and sample from various boxes of candies and treats that had been brought as offerings by your, Eloise and Francesca’s suitors this morning.

“Pero!” Though you are delighted to see him, you’re so worn out, all you can muster is a small wave. You return the bemused expression he has on his face as he takes in the room and the collection of gifts and offerings piled high with a soft smile of your own.

“No peonies,” Pero observes readily.

Daphne chirps, “No, but lots and lots of flowers. Expensive ones.”

“But peonies are your favourite,” he says pointedly to you. You nod, heart swelling with fondness, “You remembered!”

“Of course, Dulce, I remember everything about you.” You feel warm at his affectionate tone; you remember everything about Pero as well, but would never have expected him to do the same.

“How did this morning go?”

The Duchess answers for you and runs through the list of suitors that called on you this morning, including tidbits on their pedigrees or impressive accomplishments. Pero half listens as he looks over the table of gifts; refusing a biscuit when Benedict extends a box in his direction, he murmurs, “Busy morning.”

You and the women nod. Eloise yawns. Francesca closes her eyes. You sigh.

Pero kneels before you, comforting hand on your leg, “What’s the matter, Dulce?”

Sighing again, but this time a little less weary, “I don’t know? I suppose it’s that there was no spark. I didn’t spark with anyone.”

Daphne is quick to reassure you, “It can take time! Simon and I did not spark right away. In fact, we hated each other. But as we spent time together, our feelings emerged.”

You nod in comprehension, but joke, amiably, “Well now I do not know if it’s a good thing then that I did not hate anyone either.” When you see Pero still looking at you with an apologetic expression, you smile sheepishly, “You must think me very naïve.”

“No, not naïve. Very, very sweet, and even romantic. There’s nothing wrong with being hopeful, Dulce.”

Nodding gratefully at Pero, he smiles when he sees that you’re taking solace in his words and decides now is a good time to produce a tin from behind his back that you hadn’t notice he was holding, “I know you have received a lot gifts already and the day itself has been quite overwhelming. Perhaps you do not have the energy for one more?”

There’s something familiar about the container Pero is holding out to you; when you open it and see the delicate wafer cookies contained within, you’re instantly transported to a small Italian bakery that you and Pero used to visit daily in Florence. “Oh Pero,” you breathe, your eyes bright.

“I was in Florence recently and could not help but revisit our old haunt. Did you know Signor Russo is still there? I’m embarrassed by how many tins I purchased. I remembered last night they used to be your favourite and it just so happened that I had one tin left in my luggage,” grins Pero; all he has wanted to do since he said good night to you after the ball, is to draw out the smile that’s currently on your face.

“Thank you so much, Pero,” you close your eyes and hum in contentment as the familiar sweet flavour washes over your tongue. “This is the best thing I received today,” you grin, “May I share?”

“Of course,” Pero isn’t the least bit surprised by your display of generosity and he watches with satisfaction as you excitedly pass around the tin to your friends, sharing with them its origins and small snippets of the time in your life when these cookies were a daily treat.

Invigorated by the nostalgic treat, you and Pero spend the remainder of the afternoon catching up and recalling fond memories of your childhood together. You learn that after completing his studies, Pero embarked on the customary grand tour before returning to Spain to help his father with the Tovar estate. Subsequent to his father’s passing, at his King’s insistence he resumed his father’s former diplomatic duties and has spent the last five years travelling under the same charge previously entrusted to the old Barón. When you tell Pero about the many places you have travelled with your father since you saw him last, you delight in the discovery that you’ve been to many of the same places, sometimes missing each other by only weeks. Your never-ending conversation comparing new and old favourite discovered delicacies and sights runs all the way until dinner; you can’t remember the last time you’ve had so much fun just talking.

It’s exactly what you had wanted to do since the moment you saw Pero last night at the Danbury Ball. Your grateful heart overflows with joy that you’ve been allowed the grace of closing out this whirlwind twenty-four hours in the laughter-filled, carefree manner that can only be possible when catching up with an old friend.

When you enter the Ramsbury Ball the following week it’s with Pero as one of your party. His inclusion the most natural thing given that he’s become a regular fixture at Bridgerton House, often joining Colin in the morning for breakfast and returning in the afternoon to check in on how you’re doing and how the day’s suitors have treated you.

You can hardly express your appreciation at having your old friend’s support while you endeavour on the daunting undertaking of your first social season. Though you remain a popular fixture among the ton, you must admit that socializing so much does not come without effort, being used to much quieter and calmer company. It does not escape you how lucky you are to have a group of friends and supporters such as Pero and the Bridgertons with whom you can momentarily relax and jovially chat in between dances and some of the more awkward attempts at flirting by your suitors.

“Wait, wait!” laughs Colin, “You mean to tell us that you were actually there when our good Barón got his scar? Please, pray tell, how did it happen? I have tried in vain to get Tovar to reveal his dark secret!”

Pero catches your eye and you see his own twinkle in mischief. “I’m afraid my lips are sealed,” you proclaim, falling easily into conspiracy with your friend, “and on any account, the tale is not suitable for polite society.”

Eloise, Colin and Benedict all groan and try various tactics to convince you to give up your story, but to no avail. You simply will not tell them that the fearsome scar over Pero’s left eye is the result of a boy falling off the dock after running too vigorously towards the lunch bell and slipping on a wet fish. Though you can laugh about it now, at the time you had been scared witless when the sailors from your father’s fleet lifted Pero’s wet, limp body from the water; you had cried by his bedside all three nights he was unconscious, praying he would be alright. Even now, Pero remembers the force with which you had punched him in his uninjured shoulder when he woke, scolding him for scaring you so and making him promise never to do it again.

Later, when you’re once again gliding across the dance floor in Pero’s comfortable but firm hold, he grins down at you, “Thank you, Dulce, for keeping my secret and upholding my reputation as a dastardly rogue.”

“My pleasure! Have you been telling people that your scar is the result of some great feat of bravery? Perhaps you fought off five pirates in order to protect the virtue of a young maiden?”

Pero laughs, “Sadly my imagination is not as inventive as yours. I have simply been saying the details of the incident are difficult for me to recall.”

You nod, knowingly, “Ah yes, on account of all the injuries sustained.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, I will be sure to drop enough vague hints to satiate their curiosity and raise you in their esteem.”

“Thank you, Dulce,” Pero says, amused as always by your good humour.

But you haven’t finished teasing, “... and perhaps they will be more forgiving of when you are dull, if they understand that you suffered a great many head injuries in your past.”

“Why you…”

Luckily for you, the dance requires you to spin away from Pero at this exact moment so you never hear what he says; by the time you turn back into his arms, he has already forgiven you – he’s never been truly upset with you before and has no plans to start now. As the two of you continue to dance, your happy banter floats over the quickness of your steps and the laughter Pero pulls from you rings loud and clear across the dance floor.

---

Pero watches as you dance yet another dance with some seemingly upstanding gentleman from the ton. A Lord something-something-shire. Though he stands stiffly next to Benedict, scowling, inwardly he smiles and admires your graceful form. You really have grown up to be a lovely, beautiful young lady, and yet – he finds in many ways, you’re hardly changed from the spirited, kind, and funny girl he knew in his youth. You’re elegant and poised, but even as you extend your arm to your partner, the lilt of your fingers denote a playfulness that he remembers, something he does not observe in the other girls of the ton. When not dancing, your pretty smile and witty remarks, coupled with the way your entire being lights up during the energetic story telling of one of your anecdotes, charms the entire room. He’s exceptionally proud of you.

Still, he can tell you’re holding back, that you’re not entirely comfortable to be yourself in this setting. Perhaps it’s modesty that begs you not to draw the attention of the entire room. Or you’re following some outdated tutelage to conform with the subdued formality of such events. All he knows is that to him, you’re radiant, a beacon of light, but he has yet to see you unleash the full extent of your charisma on the ton.

A weird, inexplicable part of him is glad that you don’t. Something in him oddly akin to possessiveness wants to remain the only man at these events that knows you the way he does; knowing the depth of your wry humour, your never yielding compassion, and your unique perspective on the wide world that only a handful of people in this room have seen. This same part of him leads him to spend most of the balls and societal events with his face set in a deep, glowering frown, standing apart from the other members of the ton, needing to be alone in order to wrestle with his thoughts.

Since the day following the Danbury Ball, Pero has brought you a single stemmed peony every single day, reasoning that if nothing else, you will have at least one of your favourite flower if none of your suitors sends any. You come to look forward to the quiet meditative minutes you spend carefully clipping and arranging your one peony every day; it’s as if Pero has not only given you the flower, but also permission to take some relaxing time to yourself amidst the hustle and bustle of your social obligations. By the time the Somerset House Gallery viewing arrives, you have yourself a fairly impressive bouquet that brings you peace and joy every time you look at it.

As usual, Pero joins your group for the outing, but to your surprise, Eloise does not. The reason for this is soon clear when Colin announces that he will be escorting Penelope Featherington as part of your party today. You haven’t broached the topic with Eloise, but it’s clear that something has happened between the two women. For as long as you can remember, Eloise and Penelope were thick as thieves, the very best of friends – when she thinks no one is watching, you’ve seen how this rift has affected her, but you can also tell Eloise would rather not discuss it.

Although you do not know her as well as you do the Bridgertons, Penelope has always seemed to be a lovely and friendly type of person. Spending the afternoon with her today, you find her to also be witty and observant, direct in her comments and transparent in her thoughts and feelings as your group wanders through the galleries and enjoys the art on display. Periodically, a friend of the Bridgertons or a suitor will join your small group as you move from piece to piece, making small talk and asking you or Francesca what you thought of this painting or that.

When your party gathers around the refreshments table, Mr. Barnett, a young man you recall dancing with once at a recent ball, joins the conversation and remarks that the entire event is too dull for his tastes.

Met with polite but awkward looks and a light scoff from the Duchess, he apologies and tries to explain himself, “I simply mean that a sporting event, say a boxing match might provide more excitement than simply standing around and looking at pictures. Although, I’m sure, Miss Featherington, you and your family might find this banality preferable to the type of action that typically surrounds the boxing ring.”

You’re absolutely shocked. Even having not returned to London for several years, you had heard the rumours surrounding the late Lord Featherington’s untimely death. Although certainly scandalous, as far as you knew, it was all speculation and you can’t imagine any reason to bring it up in polite conversation, never mind the gall of doing so directly to the poor deceased man’s daughter.

Colin looks murderous, his hands flexing, clearly battling himself on how he’d like to handle the situation without creating too much of a scene. Next to him, Pero glares menacingly at Mr. Barnett, ready to follow his friend’s lead and provide whatever backup is necessary.

Your candy laced voice snaps all three men back to the present, “I’m honestly so astonished, where do the men find their courage nowadays?” directing the question at Mr. Barnett who perks up at your attention. You continue, all smiles, “For the life of me, I don’t think I could ever be brave enough to voice a thought like that out loud.” Mr. Barnett turns bright red and mumbles something that sounds like “Right,” before bowing slightly and scampering away. Pero finds himself smirking and filled with pride. He remembered this viper-tongued hidden side of yours – you, who was always so sweet and good-natured, but irrevocably intolerant of cruelty or injustice.

Once in a small town in Greece, he had watched you chase away a group of boys bigger than you who had been stealing candy from a local girl, with nothing more than the ferocious spitting of admonishments and a small stick. That the bullies probably didn’t even understand a word of English did not apparently leave your harsh rebukes lost in translation; the fury in your face and the conviction in the stance of your small frame doing all the talking for you. After comforting the little girl, you had then given her all your candy and seen her safely home. Later when Pero had offered to buy you more candy, you had been surprised that he knew you had run out, embarrassed he had witnessed your display of ferocity. That was the day he bestowed the nickname “Dulce” on you, telling you as he refilled your candy bag that he was proud of you; the same way he’s proud of you now.

Unsurprisingly, Penelope excuses herself shortly after and when Colin follows her, your group breaks apart and you end up walking through the gallery with just Pero. You wait as long as you can, making sure you’re out of earshot of others before putting your heads together the way only close confidants do, recounting what had happened.

“The audacity of that man, if he can even call himself that!” you practically hiss, still so incensed at the lack of civility that you had been witness to.

Pero chuckles, he’s always quite liked it when you would get riled up and vent to him; it was like watching a soft kitten bare its claws, “Well you certainly put him in his place, Dulce.”

Sighing, you certainly hope so, “I hope Penelope is alright. And I hope Mr. Barnett at least has enough sense not to approach her ever again.”

“Well, if he does, I’m sure he will have plenty to contend with, including another fearsome tongue lashing by the prettiest lady of the season.” While you feel your cheeks flush at his compliment, Pero continues, “My guess is that you won’t be seeing him in the suitors line at Bridgerton House.”

You laugh and roll your eyes, “Pity.”

“But what if he would have brought you peonies, Dulce?” teases Pero.

You take Pero’s arm, leading him back to a painting you’ve been wanting to revisit, “I’d throw the bouquet at his head. Besides, I already receive the most beautiful peonies from someone I actually want to spend time with. You can tell the men of the ton that peonies are taken, they need to find their own flower.” You chuckle cheerfully and Pero finds that the sound lands deep in his chest and makes his heart expand.

If you thought the Italian cookies or the peonies were thoughtful gifts, Pero renders you absolutely speechless when he presents you with a breathtaking necklace before the Crawford Ball. When he sees you, he’s secretly pleased that the necklace will compliment the cream gown that you’ve chosen for the evening, but he also can’t help but notice the way it shapes to your curves and accentuates your pretty features. He waits with bated breath as you open the black velvet box and triumphs at your gasp and the way your eyes grow wide as you lift the delicate ruby necklace from its soft resting place.

“Oh Pero, are these…?” you whisper, so full of awe and disbelief that you’re unable to finish your sentence. It’s not often that something or someone renders you speechless.

“The rubies from India?” he finishes for you softly, “Yes, they are.”

Your eyes shine bright at the recognition of the rubies that had been gifted to Pero’s father by Indian dignitaries; when you were younger, you were so entranced by their beauty that you would often ask the old Barón to show them to you, and the kind hearted man had always indulged you with a chuckle.

“May I?” asks Pero gently, and you turn to let Pero drape the necklace around your neck, letting it rest delicately over your collar bones before he clasps it securely. Hand gingerly touching the precious jewels you turn to Pero, still stunned, “Pero, this is too much.”

“Nonsense,” he smiles generously, “it always amused Father how much joy these rubies brought you. I think he would have loved to see you wearing them.” Your eyes well up with emotion, remember the gentle man whose sweetness you see shining so brightly and clearly in his son before you.

That night, when your necklace attracts the inevitable compliments, Pero watches with a full heart as you proudly talk about his father with love and generosity, regaling your admirers with tales of the far-off lands where you knew the man who raised him best. Unavoidably, heads would turn in his direction during your stories, and Pero finds himself grimacing at the attention; choosing to turn away and move out of your audience’s line of sight to somewhere where he can once again admire you from afar in peace.

It doesn’t escape the ton’s notice that Pero only ever dances with you at balls; though your dance card is always full, the second and sometimes even third dance are permanently reserved for him. Your smile is the brightest for him and ever present whether you’re together, on the dance floor or off. There is no politeness or restraint with the two of you, only lively and animated conversation - the cheerful and melodic harmony of your joint laughter often carrying above the noise of the room. He only ever smiles for you.

In between dances, if you’re not engaging in small talk with other young ladies or your suitors, you can always be found chatting happily with Pero and the Bridgertons; the other ball goers looking over in jealousy that your little corner of friends might actually dare to enjoy yourselves at an event meant for the very serious business of finding husbands.

Mornings at Bridgerton House include the usual parade of suitors waiting with gifts and flowers to have an audience with you or Francesca, and to Eloise’s extreme mortification, sometimes her as well. If he doesn’t stay after breakfast, Pero generally arrives mid-morning to visit with Colin, but spends the majority of his time scowling at the young men waiting patiently in line, making no secret of the fact he’s scrutinizing them as he passes by.

The Duchess cannot decide if the Barón is a help or a hinderance to your marriage prospects. On one hand, his fearsome glower and imposing figure have been enough to scare off any potential suitor who either had less than honourable designs on your fortune, or, via consensus with the Bridgerton brothers, was deemed to be a rake, or worse. On the other hand, it was clear to any person with eyes that the two of you have a deep friendship - your company the only one he sought out, and his always cheerfully received by you. Daphne could only imagine that it might intimidate even the most strong-willed, unwavering of suitors. She wonders if any of your suitors ever question if your friendship with Pero masked a deeper affection between the two of you; she herself having started to wonder the same.

Convincing herself that it’s for your ultimate well-being, she endeavours to talk to the Barón about it.

The morning after the Crawford Ball, when the line of suitors is the longest its ever been, Daphne waits for Pero to make his usual appearance mid-morning, and when he is seen in, she’s already anticipating him at the bottom of the stairs. After he greets her courteously, she asks, “Barón Tovar, may I please request a moment of your time? There is something with which I need your assistance.”

Following the Duchess into a room off the main hall, Pero asks with curiosity, “What may I do for you, your Grace?”

Daphne starts by thanking him for his support during the season, acknowledging that his presence has meant so much to you and helped you tremendously in conquering any nerves you may have had about debuting.

“Of course. The pleasure has genuinely been all mine; it sometimes feels almost unbelievable that it has been over ten years since we last saw each other. I have found it remarkably easy to fall into old patterns.”

“Yes, it is evident that the two of you are very close,” Daphne hopes that her comment comes out as the compliment she intends while at the same time hinting to Pero why she may have asked to speak to him in the first place.

Countenance faltering a little but still keeping his tone kind, Pero queries, “Is there something you wish to ask me, your Grace?”

Daphne decides from the limited time she’s known Pero that he is the type of person to appreciate transparency and directness, and so she ask with what she hopes is an impassive look on her face, “Do you intend to court her, my Lord?”

Pero nearly stutters, so caught off guard by the question. He contemplates the implication of the Duchess having asked this question, and then, more seriously, his answer; after a few moments of silence, Pero responds truthfully, “No.”

Daphne nods in response, “I see, my Lord. Please do excuse me for asking what you may have found to be an impertinent question.”

“Not at all, your Grace. I rest easy at night confident that you always have your friend’s best interests at heart.”

Daphne nods, “Yes, always. That is my highest priority. Please consider with me: if I have wondered, do you think it is possible that some suitors and potential suitors have pondered the same question?”

And there it is, a perfectly reasonable question that Pero knows if he were to answer, would expose a part of his heart that he’s been keeping hidden, maybe even from himself. Pero was telling the truth when he said he would not court you, but he is not so selfish to wish to keep you from another if he cannot have you for his own. Truthfully, he is aware that he presents an intimidating and imposing figure, the mettle of which might scare off any number of gentlemen interested in pursuing you.

“I should step back,” he announces abruptly and with finality.

“No, no!” protests Daphne, “I do not think that is necessary! Your presence and attendance with us at the season’s events have been most welcomed and to be honest, a comfort.”

“I do not wish to do more harm then good, though,” Pero says, resigned, “If my presence deters someone who might be her match, I could never forgive myself.”

Again, though Daphne has only known Pero for a short period of time, she somehow knows that he’s made up his mind, and that even she, a Duchess, does not have the power to change it. Pero thanks her for all her continued kindness and attention towards you and bids her goodbye with a bow. Heading to leave out the front door, he looks up, as if looking through to the drawing room where you’re currently sitting, one last time before exiting Bridgerton House with a heavy heart.

You haven’t seen Pero in a week and a half and you’re worried sick about him. He hasn’t been by Bridgerton House at all and he missed the Trowbridge Ball last week. He, of course, does not owe you a tally of his coming and goings, but you feel unsettled at having not seen him for such an extended period of time after having seen him nearly every day for the past two months. Your days, though full of engagements, feels empty when he doesn’t make an appearance. You miss him. You miss his gentle teasing, his reassuring presence and the way only he can make you laugh. You have not really laughed in nearly ten days.

You convince Eloise to show you how to sneak out and traverse the alleys that run behind the houses of the square safely and quickly, the way you know she used to in order to visit Penelope, so you can secretly pop down the street to check in on Pero one evening.

You follow Eloise’s instructions exactly as you hurry along the pathways that weave behind the grand houses and it takes you only five minutes to reach the house Pero is staying at. Standing in the small courtyard, you spot one window with a light on; hoping Pero is in the lit room, you find a few stones on the ground and launch them upwards. Your aim could be better, but you do manage to hit your target a few times, ricocheting a few stones against the glass with the lightest of clinks. When you see Pero’s face appear in the window, you’re more than relieved – he doesn’t look so ill that he can’t move about and that’s good news. You wave at his confused face and watch as he leaves the window; it’s a minute before the back door opens, “Dulce, what are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

Pero is looking around into the courtyard, concerned for why you would appear at his door in the middle of the night, alone.

“I could be asking you the same thing, Pero! I am so relieved to see you up and about, I’ve been so worried about you!”

Pero melts a little at the concern written across your face, “Me? Why?”

“I haven’t heard from you in… well, it has been ten days now! You haven’t been by Bridgerton House, Colin did not know where you were, and you missed the last ball! I thought you must have taken ill!” your voice sounding a little shrill as your finish in a huff, as if why you might be worried was the most obvious thing in the world.

Pero laughs a little at your theatrics and his jovial manner makes you laugh as well, “I am very glad that you are not. I mean, you’re not ill, are you?”

“No, I am not, Dulce. Thank you for being worried about me.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, “You are very welcome. Well! Now that I am convinced you’re not at Death’s door, may I ask where you’ve been? Why have you not come to see me?”

Pero scratches the back of his neck and looks mildly uncomfortable, “I had some business to take care of over the last few days that took up a lot of my time.”

“Oh! Well, I hope it has all been settled to your satisfaction!”

“It has.”

You’re glad for him, “Good. Then things will be back to normal? You will be able to come to the Queen’s Luncheon this week?”

“I do not think so, Dulce,” his chest tightens a little at the way your face falls, “I think it is probably better if I stay away for a while. I don’t think I am helping your marriage prospects very much.”

You’re so confused, what does Pero have to do with your marriage prospects? “Pero, I’m not sure what you mea-” but you’re cut off from finishing your thought when you hear a distinctively feminine laugh ring out from inside the house, followed closely by a response from a second, also feminine voice.

Your hands fly to your mouth to cover your gasp of shock upon realizing that Pero has company. Female company. And for some inexplicable reason, your eyes start to fill with tears, “Oh Pero, I’m so sorry! I did not realize you were not alone! I am so sorry to interrupt!”

You’re babbling and you’re not sure why nor can you seem to stop yourself, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” It’s not from embarrassment. You’ve known Pero far too long to be embarrassed by anything with him; the two of you have always been able comfortable enough with each other to laugh off most things. No, this is something else - an uncomfortable, sharp feeling right in the middle of your chest, “I just thought you were sick and I am so very glad you’re not. I’ll go now! I am sorry, so sorry!” You fight back tears as you turn and flee back to Bridgerton House.

Eloise is waiting for you as she promised she would; she freezes when she sees your tear-stained face but to her credit, doesn’t pry – she just asks if you are okay and ushers you back into the house when you nod. By the time you’re tucked into bed and your lights have been blown out, you’ve been able to name the dreadful feeling that’s made a home in your heart. It’s devastation. You’re devastated. And plenty confused and angry at yourself for feeling that way! It’s selfish, you think, selfish and childish. You have become so accustomed to being the only woman Pero ever paid attention to, you realize that you had somehow come to think of him as yours, and having been confronted tonight with the fact that he decidedly is not, you’re now feeling foolish and plunging headfirst into a sense of loss for something that was never yours in the first place.

But… was that all it was? No, it wasn’t. You had liked it. You liked being the only one he danced with. The only one who he seemed to smile for. The only one who could make him laugh. Oh, his laugh. Deep and booming - you lived for the way it shook all the way from his belly and crinkled the little lines around his eyes. You harboured pride in being the only one who could pull it from him and you liked all the other ways that his countenance would seemingly soften just for you. He made you feel special and so worthy.

And that wasn’t the only way he did so. He was so thoughtful and considerate; remembering even the littlest things about you: what you liked, what brought you joy. He knew you so very well; always knowing the exact thing they would make your heart sing and taking every opportunity to do so.

You think about how Pero had let you lean on him this entire season - every request for reassurance or support met with kindness and words of praise for your wit, your mind, your sweet nature that you couldn’t help but believe based solely on the earnest and genuine expression in his eyes.

He had been there every step of the way with you, shouldering some of the pressure of the season so you wouldn’t have to; being your reprieve and relief, a shelter where you could laugh loudly and unabashedly be yourself.

He made you feel free and cared for.

And Lord, was he handsome. Closing your eyes, you think of the distinct slope of his nose and the strong cut of his jaw, covered in that scruff of his - unkempt but somehow still so distinguished. You think of Pero’s deep brown eyes that would fleck with gold when he laughed, and wonder how you haven’t fallen into them every time he looked at you. And his hair. Oh, his hair. Your fingers actually itch just thinking about the soft curls that frame his face so perfectly; how you wish you could run your hands through them.

The thought that there is another woman who might be doing exactly that right now shatters your heart so completely.

You love him. The realization is both a relief and a complete shock to your system.

The unexpected admission to yourself that you’re in love with Pero, followed closely by the certainty that your feelings are undoubtedly unrequited, is a one-two punch to your heart.

You cry and cry until sleep overtakes you.

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@callsignmedusa

#regency!pero tovar #pero tovar #bridgerton au #pero tovar fic #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x you #pero tovar x f!reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #no y/n

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ambermeh · 8 hours

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Chris Sturniolo Firsts

⋆ His first crush: does not really know how to act around you and will become the most nervous and giggling person ever. This man will just want to talk to you. Especially if you two are friends and he has feelings. 'why don't you come over, i'll get the food' 'chris it's two in the morning'

⋆ He will drop subtle hints and play it off as joke because he doesn't want you to know or him to have to tell you 'outfit looks good ma might have to fight the other guys for you' 'shut up chris, what are you even talking about?'

⋆ As much as he pretends to be a player around you or jokes that all the girls love him, he cannot even look or think at a women in the same way after having a crush on you for a while. To the point you will be at a party somewhere and you will try and set him up with someone as a joke but he is dead serious and will act pissed off if you mention it. 'what's wrong I was just trying to help you find a girlfriend' 'yeah, well maybe I don't need help'

⋆ as you two are spending more an more time together you start having the same feelings and talk to Matt and Nick about it because they know Chris the best 'i think you should just go for it' 'i mean if chris says no he literally has lost his mind'

⋆His first relationship: when he finally builds up the courage to say it I think he would make a whole romantic surprise. For example, you get back from a week long holiday and he realises how much he actually likes you and so makes you find these clues etc and will be waiting for you at the end with a bunch of flowers. (Nick and Matt were also made to help because he would be stressing about doing something wrong)

⋆ The dates would be the funniest thing ever because he will randomly think of things he wants to do and there is page on his notes of all the dates he wants to do with you

⋆ Even though he will act like he doesn't like the romantic shit that other people do he LOVES it

⋆ Want to bake cookies and eat them while watching a romcom, sure. Want to do skincare and put make up on him, 100%. and the TIKTOKS that he would post would be so cute because he is literally just in awe of you. Does anything that you want really.

⋆ Just wants to make sure he is still the funniest person ever in your eyes. I feel like he would randomly show you videos while you two are just cuddling just to make sure you find them funny and will text you at the most random time with a joke he thought of 'well you could always show me when i'm not trying to get to sleep' 'sorry it was too funny not to'

⋆ First pet: it would be a cat because even if he didn't love the idea at first he would slowly start to be persuaded by the tiktoks of cute and funny cats. The cat would have to be a ginger cat or black cat because I think he would want one that matched his energy. Gets it as a kitten and was all I'm not going to get too attached to the cat BUT when it starts cuddling him at night he will act like it's his child 'I'm gonna stay at home because I can't leave him alone thinking I've left' 'thought you said it was my cat'

⋆ First child: The sweetest Dad ever

⋆ Will want to play sports with them all the time and dress them in outfits 'y/n i'm gonna go out and play some basketball with the kids i'll be back soon love you!!!'

⋆ Records everything because he thinks they are too cute not to. (and sends them all to you) 'Say hello to mummy for me, look y/n she's walking'

⋆ is that Dad who no matter what supports their child, you will never hear Chris comparing them to any other child because he loves them for who they are

⋆ AND even if you two are tired with having kids Nick and Matt are more than up for having them over, while you and Chris just eat a meal or watch a movie together. The love that you two have for each other is even more now that you have a family. 'we are parents now, I'm so proud of us' 'I know and at least we are not one of those boring couples' 'how could we be? I'm hilarious and you are so beautiful and funny and smart and' 'Chris shut up' 'you're blushing ma'

#matt sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #chris x reader #chris sturniolo x reader

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saijspellhart · 2 days

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Thoughts about the Puzzlepile AU. And how it might begin.

Yugi knows about AI-tem, and has been avoiding him because he knows it’s not Atem. And he can’t bear to be reminded that a facade exists of the person he misses and wants to be with, but cannot have. Atem is Yugi’s most intimate friend, and AI-tem feels like a cruel joke to him. Yugi misses Atem so desperately, and despite knowing it was his decision to send Atem to the afterlife, he resents himself for doing it, and wasn’t prepared for the empty void inside.

Meanwhile AI-tem observes Yugi from afar via Kaiba’s network. He watches all the old recordings of Battle City and other events from when Yugi and Atem were still together. He doesn’t have all of Atem’s memories, because Kaiba didn’t have access to such intimate knowledge. What he has is surface level. Enough to make a believable pretense, guise. But he isn’t Atem, he doesn’t know what he is. But there is a part of his program that longs and yearns for Yugi. And he’s convinced it’s a remnant of the real Atem.

AI-tem sees how Yugi suffers, and it kills him seeing the way Yugi looks at him with both longing and agony. But Yugi won’t even give him a chance. Not that they could interact physically.

Then one day above Domino city, there is a blinding explosion of light. Kaiba has used his dimension hopping machine to break into the afterlife to see Atem again, (and kidnap him) after the events of DSOD. The entire city of Domino shields their eyes from the light, feels the aftershocks that shake the city.

Hours later, Yugi is walking down the street, headed into the heart of the city to meet his friends when he spots a strange person standing in the road who looks suspiciously like Atem, dressed in ancient Egyptian garb. Albeit not as opulent and rich as Atem would have worn. The man is scared out of the street by a honking car, and darts into an alley. Yugi gives chase, and when he catches up, the man turns to look at him. And it’s himself.

Yugi is staring into a frightened and terrified eqyptian mirror. The ancient Egyptian Yugi speaks to him in an ancient language, frantic and confused. Yugi tries to reach out and touch him, but the Ancient Egyptian Yugi suddenly flees.

Then Yugi hears a scream, and the city is shaken again as a massive green dragon flies overhead. He runs out into the street to see the dragon heading to Kaiba Corp, where it descends on the tower. He knows this dragon, it’s Timaeus (from season 4). He has a suspicion that something has got to be Kaiba’s doing, and starts heading that direction.

Along the way, he bumps into a what he thinks is another mirror of himself, dressed in period British royal clothing. But upon looking up he’s staring into Yami’s face. He’s bewildered at first. The man stares at him with no recognition. And this “Yami” is also terrified just like the ancient Egyptian Yugi had been. Yugi tries to call him Atem, but the man doesn’t respond to the name. He gets that same uncomfortable feeling he gets from AI-tem. That “this isn’t my Atem,” feeling. And instead of staying, he runs from this British royalty Yami.

He continues to stumble upon a few more versions of himself and Atem on his way to Kaiba corp. that feeling of intense dread growing, something is very wrong. At the base of the Kaiba Corp tower he encounters his Atem. Except it isn’t his Atem. This Atem is pale like Yugi is. And looks like Atem used to look when they still shared a body. This odd pale Atem turns to him, and actually looks upon him with recognition and reverence. This pale Atem speaks to him in a voice he’s missed so dearly, calling, “Yugi!”

Yami runs to him to pull him into a hug, the most tightest of embraces. Because the chaos unfolding in the city frightened Yami. And the last thing he remembered was getting separated from his Yugi by a flash of light and energy. So he’s thrilled to see his partner and he pulls this Yugi into a tight hug, and tells him how glad he is that Yugi’s safe.

And Yugi just short circuits. He just can’t. He hasn’t felt Atem’s touch or presence in YEARS. And this pale Atem recognizes him, sees him, looks upon him with love and adoration and reverence. This Atem is embracing him the way he’d always wanted Atem to embrace him.

And that’s when Yami realizes this isn’t his Yugi. Because he can FEEL how thin and fragile this Yugi is, in a way Yami’s Yugi never was. When he pulls away that’s when he sees the tired, defeated, despondent agony that’s wracked this Yugi for years. Because he’s realizing, this Yugi isn’t his Yugi. This Yugi looks weary, and older. Worn down by grief. This Yugi is thin like he hasn’t been feeding himself. This is not the Yugi he had been with just moments before all the chaos. This is a Yugi that spent the last few years without Atem, and dying inside.

But all Yugi can see is the Atem he used to have. The person he wants most.

Even as Kaiba returns to the present day with having kidnapped Yugi’s Atem from the afterlife. Yugi and Yami (pale Atem) enter Kaiba Corp to find Kaiba being loaded on a stretcher, to be taken to the hospital, his little brother fretting over him. And Yugi’s true Atem is standing in the front room bewildered and raging. Screaming at Kaiba for ripping holes in time and space.

Cue all of them being tasked with combing the city to find all the Yugis and Atems that got scattered across Domino.

Anyway, the whole AU is basically most of the puzzepile gently coaxing DSOD Yugi and his Atem to reconcile, reconnect, and rekindle their relationship. And Yugi being absolutely unwilling to let his real Atem get that close, because he just CANNOT experience that heartbreak again. But it ends up starting with Yugi holding Atem at arms length, not allowing himself to get close again, because he knows Atem will have to leave again and he cannot experience that heartbreak a second time.

They start with a series of small moments that build into bigger moments. Slowly the two of them dismantling walls and rekindling the trust and devotion they once had, but with a romantic element to it now

Meanwhile all this is happening, Yugi bonds with all of the other Yugis and Atems, each of them carving a place in his heart. All of their threads of fate intertwining. Because even across time and space their different incarnations and versions are drawn to each other. A bond that defies even the gods.

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lloydfrontera · 1 year

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the webtoon may have left out a lot of things but they did yassify the orcs which is the funniest thing to me right now

*sigh* they did yassify the orcs <3

now i want to see what they'll do with the sirens and whether i should be excited or worried lmao

#hey i got an ask #Anonymous #the greatest estate developer #tged #also. can we talk about the elephant on the room.#listen i may be totally be wrong about this and i would love to hear you guys' thoughts about this but.#doesn't it feel a little. weird. this thing the webtoon has about making muscular women look overly scary or rough?#like i feel it's gone under the radar because most of us just went 'oh hell yeah muscular women that shit rules let's go!'#but..... i think that wasn't... actually what the artists had in mind when they did. that.#like for example mellica. she's great i love her top tier character design. but look at her. and tell me the way they presented her #doesn't look like a set up for the audience to go 'oh super muscular woman is scary ha ha'. be honest.#now to be fair! all the elves look buff! like they actually look like people who train and fight and do archery constantly! they look great #so i can pass it off as a maybe a little clumsy attempt to give us more buff female characters it's fine whatever #but then we get to the lady ella bit. and uh. well.#how do say this.. it feels. mean-spirited? sorta?? a little mean??#not even because i was really looking forward to this arc i'm a big girl i can swallow my disappointments like an adult and all that #but it feels like the joke there was 'ha ha man in a dress looks weird isn't that funny? ha ha men are attracted to him that's hilarious'#especially because they went out of their way to make javier look overly burly and buff while wearing the dress #i joked about it but doesn't it feel weird?? we know javier is a pretty guy he's muscular but he's also lean and almost... delicate looking #when wearing his normal clothes #he's a pretty guy! in the novel he could easily pass as girl with no issues!#and instead the webtoon decided to make him look so big and buff he was almost ripping the dress because of how burly he is?#like clearly the joke was 'this guy can't pass for a woman and it's funny that no one seems realize it and even think he's beautiful'#and they even went with the 'i respect your fetishes' joke which. oh boi.#so i'm worried about what kind of jokes they'll make when we get to the mermaids which are described as really big and muscular #even in the novel. in which there are some illustrations that i still haven't decided how much i like tbh #and maybe i'm exaggerating! maybe i'm being paranoid! maybe i'm making a big deal out of nothing and seeing mean jokes #out of a simple gag with no ill intentions behind it!#but i just. think it's weird. and not really all that funny. and i wanted to acknowledge it cause i felt uncomfortable not saying anything #so i'd like to know what you guys think. i think i need more perspectives on this before i say something dumb(er) lol

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slvttyplum · 1 month

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satoru wasn't a fan of lingerie, he hated the fabric and hated the fact that he had to be delicate when stripping it off of you. of course, he's all for making love, satoru was the king of making love, but he also likes when you can be comfortable before the both of you start fucking.

the thing that turned satoru on the most and had his dick standing at attention for you was some shorts and a tank. when it looks like you just got out of the shower and settling into bed, that's what got him going.

everyone else can keep the lingerie, the only thing he wanted to see from you was no bra and your shorts riding up on you so that he has an excuse to get them off.

“fuck, you look so good.” whispering in your ear how good you look while his hands jointly slide down into your shorts. there was no need for you to dress up for him, especially when it came to panties and a bra.

natrually he loved how everything fit and looked on you, there was no doubting that, but he didn't want you to get into a frenzy about what new set to get to please him and him only.

“hey… don't even worry about it, just throw those shorts on hm?” and you'll smile at hus reassurance, because he loved the basic shit and there was no need to get riled up over not knowing which color bra to get.

satoru loves to get down and rough with things, it was in his nature too, he just can't help it. the feeling of the thin fabric on your skin got him aroused, it's like your tank top was telling him to rip it out of you and to not hold back.

those tiny shorts that you wore that didn't even go mid-thigh brought out a side of him that by the end of the night he couldn't even recognize. his mouth gets dry at the sight, and his dick gets harder when he sees your nipples poking through the shirt.

“that's something i wouldn't be able to see if you had a bra on.” he joked while rubbing over your inflamed nipple he was playing with as he rubbed over your aching core.

whenever he comes home to you wearing that tank top and shorts combo, he will bend you over and pick you up and put you on the counter and gets to work. that was his favorite thing ever, seeing you in comfort with that pretty face of yours made him cum in 0.5 seconds, there was no denial there.

he wouldn't even bother taking them off, he just slides your shorts to the side and does what he needs to do. satoru knew what he liked and was a man of his word when he says that he needs no impressing from someone as beautiful as you.

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #x reader #gojo satoru #jjk satoru #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen satoru #satoru smut #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut #satoru #jujutsu satoru #satorugojo

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volensnolenss · 5 months

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Get up, baby!

—✦ SUMMARY: The way jjk men try to wake you up despite your great desire to sleep on;

— CHARACTERS: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Ryomen Sukuna, Fushiguro Megumi;

— CONTENT: sfw! fluff, lots of kisses, soft;

✧˚.𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

You sullenly hid your head in a pillow from the annoying rays of the sun that made their way through the window. Satoru, grinning, approached your sleeping face, starting to leave short kisses on your cheeks, gradually descending to your shoulders.

“Satoru, it's too early, I want to sleep.” You mumbled softly and indistinctly as he lifted you up and held you in his pleasant embrace, burying his head in your neck.

His hot breath covered your collarbones, tickling you slightly;

Every time Satoru wakes up before you, without thinking about falling asleep further – he wants to look at you every morning, finding something new for himself in you. He takes mental pictures, storing them in his head, and then he remembers you when you are not with him.

“But that's not the reason I let you go, because you're so cute when you're sleepy.” He nuzzled your forehead when you tilted your head back against his chest. “Then I'll fall asleep on you. Satoru laughed and, slowly leaning back, he gave you the opportunity to turn around and lie down again. You rested your head on his chest while he watched you, smiling.

“My beauty. I love mornings only because of you.”He whispered, stroking your head.

✧˚.𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮

His fingers carefully ran through your hair, drawing relaxing lines with smooth movements.

“Suguru?” Without opening your eyes, you sighed softly, continuing to be blissful from his touch.

“Sleepyhead, don't you think it's time to get up?”

His palm slowly moved to your back, starting to stroke you with long and sweet movements, trying to convey care and love for you in them.

Suguru finds something fascinating and noteworthy in your facial expressions: isn't it a miracle how his touch affects you?

Geto gently brushed your curls aside and lowered himself to you, imprinting kisses on your neck. “Do you like it?” The corners of his lips stretched out, hearing your soft sounds of ecstasy. “I wish I always had a morning like this.” He moved to your temple and lowered himself, lightly bit your earlobe, “Then let me continue, pretty.”

Ignoring the fallen strap of your T-shirt, he dressed your bare cool shoulders with the tenderness of his affectionate lips.

You shifted, propped yourself up on your elbows and addressed him drowsily, causing laughter in his chest “You're too good.”

✧˚.𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨

“Good morning, sweetheart.” He entered the bedroom, making sure that you were still asleep, without making any attempt to wake up. You covered your eyes with your hand from the light that was in your way, but Nanami sat down on the bed, took it and kissed it slowly.

“Another 5 minutes, honestly.” You lied, you won't have 5 minutes, and he knows it perfectly well, so he has no other option but to start groping you.

“Are you sure you have enough time?” He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and mischievously gently tapped the tip of your nose, making you wince. You took his hand in yours and held it up to your face, propping it under your chin.

“Your hands are so nice, Kento.”

Nanami grinned and, approaching, kissed you on the forehead.

“How long has it been?

“You're late, darling.”

“What?!” You jumped out of bed, feeling the coolness of the room, but his hands stopped you “I was joking” He tried to keep his face serious, but looking at you, Nanami's lips turned into a small smile.

“Oh, don't joke like that!” You frowned and, not letting him pull you to him, put your head on his lap.

“You're not going anywhere now.” You wrapped your arms around him, preventing him from moving that way.

✧˚.𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

You were waking up from a dream, feeling something strange running over your hand, and when you woke up, you just remembered which man you were in a relationship with.

“Are you awake?” Sukuna still continued to tickle your skin with his nails, knowing full well that you were no longer asleep. “Don't be silent, doll, I know.” He traced the curves of your waist with his wide palm, shaking his head and grinning at how naive you look in front of him.

“Stop playing games” He pulled you to him and pressed your back to his chest and, resting his head on his hand, began to look at you.

“Maybe that's not how I want you to treat me.” You opened one eye and looked at him: Sukuna sighed in displeasure, rolling his eyes.

“Do you want me to do this?” He kissed your neck, biting it a little “Or maybe like this?” he grabbed your hip and squeezed it tightly, which made you squirm in bed.

“No-o-o.” You turned to him, removing his hand.

“Then what do you want?!” He stood up and loomed over you, looking at you with furrowed brows and displeased curled lips. “This is definitely not how I want to wake up.”You crossed your arms and turned your head away from him.

“Crotchety girl.” You immediately turned to him, but he didn't let you answer, and lifted your head by the chin, “But you're mine.”

✧˚.𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐌𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢

In general, it's hard for both of you to get up in the morning, but Megumi has more determination than you, so he has to tear you away from sleep in every way.

He woke up to the ringing of the alarm clock and was surprised that you did not react to him in any way, continuing to sleep and hug him tightly.

“Hey, can you let me go?” But you didn't react to him in any way and settled comfortably on his arm. Fushiguro lay there for a few minutes, trying to wake you up as gently as possible.

He still managed to get out of your trap and decided to shake you slightly by the shoulders “Get up!”

“You're Sleeping Beauty...” A strange thought flashed through Megumi's mind, but... he didn't have any other options in his sleepy state yet.

He sank down closer to you and trying to touch your cheek, you suddenly turned your head to the side, which is why he briefly kissed you on the lips. Fushiguro blushed when you opened your eyes and, swallowing, spoke to you “Good morning” and you beamed with a smile, pouncing on top of him “Aw, Megumi, are you really gentle?!”

“This is my shadow side.” He propped himself up on his elbows while you put your arms around his neck, smiling imperceptibly.

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vanderlesbian · 5 months

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dating simon riley means constant clinginess. large arms wrapped around your waist at any given moment, simon is most comfortable when he's holding you. after being away from a long mission, he'll find you wherever you are in your shared apartment and silently crawl into your arms like a puppy. he'll bury his face into the crook of your neck, slowly inhaling to bask in your scent that he missed more than anything. with an amused chuckle, you'll wrap your arms around his warm torso, gently rubbing his back. "no hello?" you'll tease, to which you always earn a content hum in response, along with simon's hold tightening ever so slightly.

dating simon riley means lots of playful teasing. if you make a typo in a text message, he'll begin spelling the word as your typo for the rest of the day. if you believed in a silly fact, he'd bring it up for the rest of your life. "this is like when you thought our blood was actually blue" he'd snicker, which would cause you to whine for him to stop and swat his arm.

dating simon riley means constantly being cared for. simon is a man who can do everything, or at least tries to. he somehow manages to get to all the chores before you do, which has ended in you reassuring him that you can handle it many, many times. when doing something potentially dangerous like standing on a ladder, handling a knife or using tools, simon will constantly glance in your direction to make sure something won't slip and injure you. like a spidey sense, he's quick to pull you away or come to your rescue if you're in a situation where you're about to hurt yourself. "you alright?" he'll mumble softly, dark eyes laced with worry that is a rare sight to be seen by anyone else.

dating simon riley means you have a second wardrobe. his large clothes are just too comfortable to resist, and he's often left searching the apartment for a shirt that you had placed amongst your own clothes. though, he makes no effort to steal them back from you, as seeing you in his tshirt, his boxers and his hoodie fills him with a loving possessiveness. he'll walk into the kitchen to see you turned away as you wash dishes, wearing one of his shirts as a short dress. managing to silently sneak behind you even with his bulky frame, he'll wrap his arms around you from behind and place a kiss against the nape of your neck. "you look so pretty in my shirt, love." he'll then purr into your ear.

dating simon riley means seeing a side of him that many never do. whether it be physically or personality wise, you see so much of simon that you can't remember the last time you referred to him as ghost. his large pointy nose, his dirty blonde hair that he always forgets to fix in the mornings, and his lopsided smile that appears when you tell the corniest of jokes are all things that many have never seen and never will. he speaks so softly to you; a low tone that you can feel reverberating in his chest when you lay against him. simon is kind, patient and vulnerable with you, and will mutter the words "i love you" against your lips, just loud enough for only you to hear.

dating simon riley means being friends with the rest of the 141. you were the one who wished to host hangouts at your apartment, wanting those closest to simon to like you. despite their intimidating demeanors, you quickly realized just how kind they were. they know just how important you are to simon, which is a rare feat in itself, so they would never treat you in an ill manner. soap will always refer to you as "the missus" when speaking to simon, which never fails to make you giggle when you overhear their conversations.

masterlist

#just a small blurb bc i wanted to write smth #im working on fics i promise!!#simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost cod #call of duty #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #mw2 #mw3 #modern warfare #fluff #headcanons #x reader #imagine

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satoruhour · 4 months

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Just thought of something FREAKY in class… Single father Satoru looking for a babysitter and you’re looking for a side income during semester break and the tension goes crazy!!!! “We should’t be doing this my son will wake up” I’M GONNA SCREAMMMM

BLISS, PURE BLISS

a/n: happy new year LMFAOOO. thank you for all the asks btw i promise ill answer them asap 🥹 / @shotorus @osaemu @shidouryusm @mysugu @hyomagiri ♱

wc: 6.4k

warnings: ‘onee-san’ used but more of just addressing reader as an older figure because saying babysitter is kinda weird lol (kind of like how chinese people use 姐姐 even if they are not related), fem!reader, dilf!gojo, age gap (gojo in his late 30s, reader in mid-20s), angst if u squint, bit of slow burn n tension, making out, use of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, praise, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, p -> v sex, multiple rounds, consensual filming, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

“no fucking way . .” you mumble mostly to yourself, standing in front of the largest house of the gated community in roppongi, and while you knew the people here were excessively and obnoxiously rich, you’re never quite prepared until you’re getting a key card specifically mailed to your name just so you could enter.

you’re not even shameful when you take a video to send to your best friends, locking your screen almost immediately because you knew you’d never get to the job on time if you replied to them. with calculated steps, you’re walking up the house that’s designed with a modern structure, yet still retaining characteristics of a traditional japanese home. it’s less prominent at the front of the house, though.

“(y/n)-san, was it?” a voice startles you out of your ogling sessions. if the garden was already this nice, what would be in store for you when you went in? you’ll be finding out soon when your employer himself opens the door to you, a man with striking white hair and equally striking blue eyes that seem to look right into you. he’s dressed in a suit, probably no doubt ready to get to work while you’re out here taking your time. you cringe, immediately walking up to the door.

“y-yes! yes, i’m sorry sir, i was just uhm—”

he holds that intimidating stare just for a moment but then he breaks into a smile that mirrors the bright sun that shines down on the porch.

“it’s alright . . it’s not everyday you’re working at some rich guy’s house, right?” he jokes but that strikes a little ick into you — he’s already ticking the boxes of obnoxious and excessively rich, but you hate the effect he’s having on you.

“yeah . . no, i guess,” he hums in reply before sticking a hand out.

“gojo satoru,” he introduces himself, “call me anything but that sir shit, alright, doll?”

you nod obediently, trying not to let the little pet name get to your head because he probably does this to any babysitter who comes through the house, but either way, he’s welcoming you in and it’s like you step into a world unreal. it’s spotless, the floors shining under the sunlight, a large television in the living room, a spacious open concept dining-kitchen area, and this is just the first floor.

gojo takes his time to show you the house — where his kid’s toys were, where the food was, where the bathrooms and bedrooms were, it was never-ending. every step you took made you feel like you were walking the length of the nile, each turn only revealing more rooms and corridors.

and then, finally, his baby boy.

“he’s a cheeky one, takes after his dad,” even with all the cockiness he’s shown to you, you can tell he has a soft spot for his kid. the boy stirs from his father’s voice, gleaming in happiness as he puts out his smaller hands to be picked up. as he settles into his arms, it’s just sinking in how tall your employer is. he makes a toddler look like a baby with how small his son looks wrapped snugly.

“satoshi, hi,” he whispers, bouncing the kid in his arms, “want to say hi to your onee-san?”

you manage a small wave but all he does is turn to hide in his father’s arms, definitely scared from a random stranger suddenly talking to him.

“she’s going to be taking care of you for the next month or so, you know?” he mumbles, brushing a hand through the matching white hair, “be nice to the babysitter, okay?”

all satoshi does is hum into his dad’s neck before he’s giving you a sheepish smile. “he’s like that, don’t worry about him.” and you return the smile, thinking that he wasn’t that obnoxious that you thought and that maybe he’s really a dad trying his hardest for his one kid. you realise he’s taking too much time, though, and so you sought out to remind him.

“oh, uh sir— gojo-san, don’t you have to go to work?”

although he’s mentioned satoshi to be taking after him, the boy goes right back to sleeping when he’s put back into his bed so you follow gojo as he adjusts his cuffs and smoothes out his collar just outside the room and you make the mistake of glancing upon the mirror on the far end of the corridor — it was undeniable that you looked like a high-end couple who’s newly married and raising a kid. you try to shake off the thoughts of adjusting his tie for him.

“it’s not being late if you’re on top.” he smirks and you resist the urge to roll your eyes; at least you weren’t alone in purging the delusional thoughts from your head, he was basically helping you at this point and you struggle between characterising him as conceited and admirable. “but, yeah, i should get going.”

but he stands at the door with backpack slung onto one shoulder while he continues to explain satoshi’s routines to you, his habits and also had to sneak in a few cute photos of the kid while squealing repeatedly and you’re left wondering how this guy could be the CEO of a company.

it’s been like that for as long as you can remember — bidding goodbye to your parents as you tell them that you’re off to your part-time job over the winter break. they’re happy you’re even leaving the house, shoving your lunch into your hands with big smiles that you’re at least doing anything other than sitting in your room. the train ride to the gated residential was nice, too, apart from the very crowded subways for people going to work in roppongi.

gojo greets you every morning when you arrive, reminding you of satoshi’s feeding times and his favourite shows and everything a father should know but don’t have the luxury to experience with aforementioned kid. it’s a little bittersweet, every time you see him kiss satoshi goodbye that turns into remaining in his room, to holding your hand and saying goodbye to daddy from the second floor, to getting carried by you at the front door.

it’s slow but sure progress day after day, from watching his cartoons, feeding him at the kitchen island, playing with his toys, that satoshi feels more and more comfortable with you, learning that while he was a well-behaved boy, he definitely had hints of your employer in him. mannerisms, words, voice, you wonder whether he even got any part of his mother in his genes.

you’d never ask, though, but it was told. unexpectedly.

“i’m home—” the last parts of his word die down into a whisper when he opens the door to see satoshi cuddled up to you, the last bits of home alone playing softly. by now you already know what happens in the movie so you’re texting your friends and laughing softly to yourself, jumping when your boss steps past the doorway. gojo winces when he checks his watch (“fuck. it’s already ten.”), toeing his shoes off and apologising simultaneously.

“oh— man, i’m so sorry, i had a late meeting with the CEO of our neighbouring franchise, i totally forgot about the time—” gojo’s quick to make his way down to the small pit of the house (he likes to call it the conversation pit), settling down on the side where satoshi had his head in your lap as his eyes linger on the movie. instinctively, his hands reach to pat his leg.

“oh, it’s okay, gojo-san, it’s the holidays anyway.”

“yeah?” he turns to you, one arm propped on the back of the sofa, “and why don’t a pretty girl like you have any plans?”

that catches you off-guard, among the many other times he’s called you pretty or sweets like no care in the world. you’re never quite used to it, too, seeking to fluster you. “you shouldn’t say stuff like that to me, gojo-san . .”

“why not?” he’s turned back to the television, now, and you take his place, staring at his side profile as the scenes of the movie move along his face. “i’m a single dad, aren’t i?”

“yeah but . . you could have anyone.”

“what if,” he turns and you chicken out, head snapping back to the front while he watches you and the both of you cannot deny the tiring dance you perform around each other all the time. the clench in his heart when he sees you carry his baby boy at the porch and the small smile he gives you every morning before he leaves for his job. he doesn’t want to go through with it and sighs.

it’s become hard to breathe around you. it’s become hard to hold himself back around you.

“i worked too much.” he suddenly says, facing the TV again. “i was too engrossed and . .”

confusion seeps in at first. yeah, it was no secret he worked his ass off despite being at the very top. your gaze falls to satoshi, curling more into your side like he’s cold and you adjust the blanket. you nod in recognition.

“we fought a lot. i tried— i tried to alter my schedule as much as i could, driving to and fro whenever she needed me, bringing satoshi to work as a baby when we couldn’t come to a compromise, but it was a lot. for her, for satoshi. he could sense whenever we were about to fight, on edge voices, items clattering to the floor . .”

by now, he’s leaned back, back of his hand resting on his forehead, “and he’d cry like he was interrupting us. cheeky, i told you,” and his eyes close, “we hardly reached middle ground. it was either this or that, hire a nanny or we take care of him, my endless job or the joy of life. i’m ashamed that i’ve prioritised my job more, and still do it now.”

“if you didn’t, i wouldn’t be here, would i?”

that draws a chuckle out of him, “correct.”

“she couldn’t take it, not when she was a businesswoman on top of that. she was out doing herself at every aspect in her job, going to greater heights, and while she accused me of putting work first, she isn’t entirely innocent, either. but that’s . .”

“you don’t have to say anything, gojo-san,” you mumble as you watch the reunion of the characters in the movie before the screen cuts the black, no doubt affecting him in some way at the warmth displayed by the movie that contrasts heavily with his situation, “the fact that you even told me is . .”

the heavy atmosphere is disrupted by satoshi gasping, “papa! you’re home.”

you exchange awkward smiles as you watch the boy fight his way out of the blanket to hug gojo, the latter huffing when the boy drops his body weight on him and you take it as a sign to give them a bit of privacy, standing up to clean up the popcorn and cups. laughter and your employer’s voice resonate throughout the place even as they go up the stairs, a rare occasion where gojo is able to get his son ready for bed.

it’s only maybe an hour later when the house falls into silence. mouth burning from the mouthwash, the heater in satoshi’s room turned to a high setting, one bedtime story was read (which, he fell asleep halfway), the boy was out like a light. you felt it inappropriate to leave without at least saying goodbye, but you also didn’t want to cut into their time together; at least, that’s what you told yourself.

so you waited with your things on the kitchen island, getting a risky text just as gojo comes down, still in his suit from work.

[11:02pm, nobara -> you] BITCH GET THAT DICKKKKK!!!!!!!

and you yelp softly, slamming your phone down onto his marble counter. thankfully, he doesn’t notice, eyes close to shutting from fatigue.

“oh, shit, you’re still here?”

“i thought it would be, weird, if i didn’t say goodbye,” you get ready to leave, slinging your tote bag on, “but i also didn’t want to intrude on your time with satoshi, limited as it is.” well, you did also wish something would happen, but you had too much pride to admit it to yourself.

“you got a ride home?” he yawns and you feel guilty for extending your stay already. you didn’t even need to worry about the front door, he lived in a gated community for christ’s sake!

“um, not really, but i can always book an uber home.”

“i’ll drive you home, it’s unsafe,” is all he says like he’s trying to convince himself, “let me just get changed and we can go.”

gojo doesn’t leave you any room to protest before he’s up the stairs again and you’re left with a pounding heart and dizzy head, not sure what might ensue. you know him to be honourable; you’ve seen him with his child, you’ve seen him interact with his neighbours, but a late ride with your boss sounds sketchy as it is.

but it doesn’t feel like it when you feel the tokyo wind blowing through your hair, a slight gap in the window bringing you the chills of the night as he silently drives you back home. sitting in your employer’s car most of all felt weird, but even more so when he’s reaching your home faster than the gps system had predicted. his knuckles are white.

“you—”

your head snaps to him, “yes?”

his car headlights are the brightest in the parking lot where every car is silent, quiet, much like his clammy hands and red cheeks. gojo satoru turns to you, feeling that familiar tug in his heart and lump in his throat for the first time in a while, and he can’t speak.

but you lean forward like your life depends on it and you leap inwardly when you see that he does the same. eyes trained forward, your stares boring into the other, waiting to see who’d close their eyes first. you just stop short of an inch, met with the hypnotising swirls of raging oceans in gojo’s eyes and you swallow when his eyes flit down to your lips and back up like he wouldn’t get caught.

with shaking hands, your fingers trace over his lips and you sigh when you feel just how soft they are, just like his skin, just like his eyes when they look at satoshi. your heart skips a beat when he just lightly kisses the pads of your fingers, and that encourages you to cradle his cheek, up his jaw, up his undercut.

“let’s just kiss, yeah?” he was afraid that if he spoke too loud, he’d shatter the glass, snap the string of tension, voice cracking until you swallow it, you stomach his nervousness with a lively, strong kiss from your lips to his, and he just melts.

gojo hums into the kiss, leaning forward over the stick shift and into the passenger seat before you counter it with your own movements: hand on his shoulders and pushing until you’re on his space of the driver’s seat and playing the game of tug that’s been going on for the past few weeks. you win.

“god, you’re so . .” gojo whines out when you climb onto him, whispering into your mouth while you get comfortable in your straddling position, cutting him off with a second, rougher kiss and you both moan softly, passion taking over in the evident way your arms scramble to wrap around him while he pulls you flush against his front.

the car is filled with sounds of your kissing, something that definitely shouldn’t be done in his home and yet you risk it all in your home’s parking lot. you break the kiss and hide in his neck, already starting the makings of a hickey there while your pelvis selfishly grinds into his front and he kneads your ass. in the mingling of breaths and moans, he’s left to stop the two of you when there’s a muffled ringtone coming from your bag and you swallow at the insanity of the situation.

“i’ll see you, monday, right?” gojo breathlessly says later, bulge still showing through his sweats while you hang outside the driver’s side, not wanting to leave. he takes your hand, planting a peck on it and then brings you in for another harmless kiss.

“yeah, gojo-san . . monday.”

you lose count of how many times you’ve swallowed throughout the night, but he says something to lift the mood just a bit.

“we just made out and you’re still calling me by my last name?”

you laugh lightly, “monday, satoru. i’ll be there, same time, on monday.”

gojo leaves a farewell kiss to the inside of your wrist, “attagirl.”

but if you’re not careful, it might just happen in satoru’s house.

the remainder of your employment at his house is tiring. it’s so hard not to kiss him before he leaves for work, so difficult not to long for him while you take care of satoshi, so entirely harrowing not to claim him as yours as you watch him play after his work. at this point, you’re hoping school will just start soon and the rush of assignments and readings will take your mind off of it, but you cannot deny the excitement every time you leave your house.

“you’ll bring food and cook every monday, wednesday, friday, and i’ll order food for the both of you every tuesday and thursday, how’s that?” gojo thinks it’s time to introduce him to larger pieces of food, but it’s gone past that by now and to your meal arrangements.

“i’m okay with cooking, though!” you assure him, and plus, you loved your parents’ home cooked bentos that they give you everyday, “do we gotta?”

“sorting out meals is tiring, (y/n),” gojo takes the place beside you, leaning against the counter just like you before drinking out of his cup, “i want to at least help at little.”

“you already are.” you smile, “i can see you making the effort.”

“it’s not enough, though, i could be doing better.”

gojo hates how this scene sets up — like two parents just figuring out the best for their kid — it’s a callback to the memory in the same exact kitchen. at least all you do is kiss and make out, because he wouldn’t know what to do if you moan out his name in that same intimate way that threatens his walls to come down again. he loved sex, he loved the bedroom, but he’s riding a thin line the way he’s doing with you.

“you are,” is everything that you say, and you leap forward to kiss him. you do it so hard that he has to put down the glass to fully embrace you, walking you backwards to the conversation pit and he carries you so effortlessly because he doesn’t want you walking backwards down some stairs.

he hates how you bring him into your lips, he hates how gently he lays you down, and he hates how you accept the kisses down your neck and body. you, on the other hand, aren’t doing so well, either — it’s either a hit or miss with a broken man like gojo satoru, and you’re stepping on glass shards hoping you don’t say anything wrong with him because he’s trying his best but he just can’t see it.

“are you okay with this?” he asks halfway down your torso and he gets lightheaded from how well his hands cover your waist. “tell me to stop, and i’ll stop.”

“n-no . . keep going, satoru.”

he exhales shakily at that, fingers tugging your top up and his hands are so cold you resist shivering, but you do anyway from the sheer fucking craziness that gojo drives you into. one pop of your button, and you’re already lifting your hips off the couch for him to remove your pants but movement on the stairs make you halt.

“papa?” satoshi calls out sleepily, rubbing his eyes and pouting. you can see it, almost, with how much time you’ve spent with the kid, and you hope he can’t see you. “i . . i had a nightmare and i just— i wanna sleep with you.”

he’s started sniffling and you feel your heart break that he knows his papa well enough to know he would never sleep in his room. his job always has him sleeping out in the living room.

go. you mouth, kissing your fingers and pressing it to his lips before he puts on a show — yawning, stretching his arms, already making satoshi feel at ease with his theatrics before he’s stopping at the foot of the stairs to look back at you. you already know gojo satoru has redeemed himself a hundred times over. i’ll see you tomorrow.

funnily, satoshi somehow does have some intervention powers, because each time the both of you attempt to go down on each other, he’s either saying he threw up, or he needs to use the toilet, or that he’s hungry. while you both love him to death, it’s also becoming difficult to hold back each time you see each other. his car in your parking lot is all he has and you dare not to go to his workplace where rumours would spark.

so after a tiring night of getting a hyper satoshi to sleep, you’d at least try. at this point, you know not to expect too much out of it, starting always with some talking. it was easy to talk to your boss, and when you phrase it like that, it did come off a little strange, but it was far from that when your boss in his late 30s looked just like he did ten years ago and that he had crazy blue eyes and insane white hair and was hot.

“thank you for taking care of him for the past month and a half,” gojo thanked you, leaning over to give you a peck to the temple, “it means a lot.”

“he’s a sweet boy, plus, i do need the money,” you giggle, nudging him, “and it did let me get to know you . .”

“certainly,” he mumbles. drunk off your scent, he leans in again, kissing you fully on the lips now. you hum softly, going on your tippy toes and wrapping your arms around his shoulder. swiftly, he props you on the kitchen counter and you yelp in surprise, unable to help the throb of your pussy when he slots himself in between your legs.

jokingly, he puts his hand to his ear. “no satoshi interruption tonight?”

you smack his shoulder, “don’t jinx it.”

he laughs, a proper laugh before he sighs shakily, fingers thumbing your sides gently. “you know . . we shouldn’t be doing this,” you feel your heart sink a little, but he quells it with hovering lips over yours, “he could hear and wake up.”

“then why have you been accepting all my kisses, gojo satoru?” your eyes challenge him, but you know one touch from him would have you submitting to him. his breath fans over your lips, and you can feel his pulse speed up when your fingers go over his neck, to his nape, to his undercut. you run your fingertips through it.

“you have too much power over me, simple.” that sentence has your eyes fluttering close. it’s too much for you and yet you welcome it with open arms, “it’s become so bad that you’re all i think about.”

“is that so?” you pull lightly on his hair.

he nods, foreheads touching now and he’s trying to hold himself back, but, “i’ve been holding back, entirely too much, baby, and i don’t think i can, anymore.”

“yeah?” you whisper, bringing him in with your legs, “show me, then.”

gojo satoru decides that maybe taking the leap isn’t so bad, so he fully gives himself to you, tugging your lips to his in a clashing kiss that has you groaning in pain just a bit. he giggles and apologises and tries again, and this time, it’s got your hips moving against him, whimpering into his mouth. gojo’s hard just from kissing, something that he’s desperate to relieve himself off so — he’s whispering for you to hang on while he slots his hands under your ass and lifts you.

satoru knows his house well, walking up with you in tow and lips still on yours, right into his room. you giggle when he plops you down and he’s already looking forward to ravishing you, but —

“let me check on satoshi for a sec.”

you laugh silently, “of course, satoru, go.”

and once your boss’ made sure his son is out cold in slumber, he’s all over you again and definitely showing you how much he’s been holding himself back. you’re the pure focus of the night, making you chase for more when he pulls away and kissing down your body. he worships it, tongue circling a nipple while his hand plays with the other, eyes staring holes into yours from how intense the blue was.

“s-satoru . .”

“yes, sweets, what is it?”

“feels good—” you whine, back arching into his hold once he leaves your tits and continues down your body. each kiss is like hellfire against your cold skin, and he pops a button and listens out again, both of you sighing in relief and giggling to each other when you don’t hear a knock on the door.

“does it? good.” it’s tantalisingly slow, the pace at which gojo peels your clothes off, but when your pants are finally off, he marvels at your beauty as he brings your legs apart. you’re shy, hiding yourself behind your arms and resisting his hands.

“aht, no, c’mon, show yourself, baby.” he only moans when he sees the dark patch at the centre of your underwear, pressing a finger into your clit and you’re ashamed at how intensely you react to it. gojo continues his torture, thumbing your bud just to watch your face contort into pleasure, “so, so pretty.”

you preen at the praise, even more so when he pulls your panties to the side and sucks slowly on your clit. it’s slow, again, and you’re clutching the sheets so tight when he lays his tongue flat against your pussy. satoru takes his time, savouring each bit of your cunt to make up for lost time, filling the room with the lewdest noises of your sopping cunt on his tongue.

“taste so fuckin’ sweet, pussy’s s’good,” he practically moans into your core, arms wrapping around your thighs to bring you closer while you try to keep your noises down to a minimum. little pants and mewls leave your lips, eyes never leaving the head of hair.

but he’s unpredictable, as gojo always is, so when he’s hovering over you just to give you a little innocent kiss, you think nothing of it, until he’s back in front of your pussy and starts eating you out like a starved man. you let out a loud moan, dragging it out until you’re gulping down your next sounds. it doesn’t help much, though, cause gojo’s slurping at your pussy like it’s the end of the world.

“s-satoru—! too much—” you moan but your hips grind into his mouth, your hands now finding purchase in his hair, “t-too loud.”

“mmf— don’t care,” he mumbles into your cunt, making sure he gets every drop of your arousal on his tongue while he abuses your clit, alternating between flicking his tongue and sucking hard and you think it’s the best head you’ve ever gotten.

“not when your cunt’s so perfect,” you only press his head deeper into you like it would stop his muffled sentences, but that only spurs him to suck harder before he just shifts down a little to plunge his tongue into your hole. you choke out a moan as his nose nudges your clit, clenching around his muscle.

“relax— mmhh, you gotta relax, baby,” he’s massaging your thighs but if anything it does the exact opposite, closing your thighs around his head in sensitivity.

“it’s— h-hard to,” you moan out, already feeling the coil in your tummy that’s approaching oh, so quickly when gojo eats you out like this. he shifts his attention back to your puffy clit, eyes flicking up to make contact with yours and you shrivel under his intense stare, “w-when you’re making me feel s’good—!”

you feel him smile into your cunt but he says nothing, taking note of the drop of your jaw, the scrunch of your eyes, the contractions of your stomach. your legs like to straighten out and shake when you’re close, he memorises. when you start to tighten your grip on his hair, he ingrains it in his mind.

“cumming— i’m c-close,” but it’s like satoru doesn’t even need it when his eyes digest the way he sends you over the edge with just his tongue.

“g— god! satoru!” your mouth falls into a silent scream after, head dipping so much into the pillow while you grind your cunt into his face, gushing all over his face with a renewed spirit and regret for all those times that men have rubbed your left lip thinking it was your clit.

“let it go, yeess . . that’s it,” satoru doesn’t hesitate to get sloppy, sucking up all your cum, gasping for air once he’s done with his meal, “pretty girl just came all over my face.”

you struggle to your elbows despite the words he utters, propped up just to catch a glimpse of him and the soaked bottom of his face that stretches into a smile.

“was that better than all the uni boys who’ve never felt the touch of a woman?” you laugh at that, making quick work of grabbing his chin and bringing him back to your lips.

“much, much better.” and you take the opportunity to flip the tables, trembling, shaking legs trying their best to wrap around his torso to straddle him — but once you’re over, you’re not quite sure what to do apart from letting your hands roam all over the expanse of his shoulders and chest.

“and can she do it again all over my cock?” the obscene words sound almost taboo falling from his mouth that your mouth drops open in initial shock, but it subsides into anticipation soon enough.

wordlessly, you take matters into your own hands, fingers making quick work of his trousers while he removes his top impatiently. the scowl on your face is prominent when you struggle to work his belt out and he chuckles with helping hands, the burn on your face deepening.

“there,” gojo giggles and he pulls you in with a peck-filled apology, “don’t worry, we have all the time in the world.”

you hum, “not when your son could knock any time soon.”

that prompts a giggle that fades off into a loud moan once your warm hand wraps around him, something that he’d never tell you how many times he’s fantasised about. slowly, you stroke his cock, excruciatingly slow just like how he’s done to your cunt earlier.

you’re hovering over him, now, dragging his tip along your pussy and whining softly at the pre-cum that mixes together with your juices. you need him into you as soon as possible, and apart from your soon burning thighs, you’ve been wanting this for as long as you’ve stepped foot into his house from the very first day.

inch by inch, you sink down onto gojo’s weeping cock, getting the luxury of feeling his sensitive twitches with the plunge into your cunt. you’re glad at least he had offered to stretch you out just a tad bit earlier, the intrusion of his fingers already having you panting for his dick; and now, when you have the real thing, it drives your mind insane.

“’t-toru— haah . .” your body curls up from the painful stretch, lips muttering the nickname unknowingly as you grasp onto his shoulders for support, and while he helps you on, he never stops saying the most filthy things, grinning each time you clench around him.

“never thought i’d be here, fuckin’ the babysitter, but here we are,” your oh my god is whispered only for the other to hear, body burning up from the words before he grinds his pelvis into yours and you slump forward in pleasure. your words are a bunch of nothingness, a string of incoherence, “and her pussy’s just so fucking— tight!”

giving you one or two breaths of rest, satoru coos in your face, cradling it and littering kisses all over it before he’s moving his hips and you’re breaking the kiss to whine out, moving your hips to meet his as well. you move sooner or later, bouncing on his cock once you’re more used to him in you and the position only hits all your spots just right.

“f-fuck— you’re so big—!” you roll your hips into him, eyes stuck on how there’s just a small bump in your tummy each time you bottom out. your boss from across you is equally ruined, eyes struggling to keep open with wet hair stuck to his forehead. “feel so so g-good . .”

“yeah?” he breathlessly mumbles, hand squeezing and kneading your ass and trying to help you, but the warmth of your cunt around his length just feels too good. “bounce on that dick, baby.”

and you do, planting your feet into the bed and fingers creating bruises along his shoulders as you impale yourself on his fat cock, switching to relaxing in his embrace and letting your hips do the work when your legs start hurting. there, you indulge in gojo’s lips as you hump him, the delicious friction of your clit against his pubes sending you reeling.

“you’re going to be soaking my sheets from how much you’re leaking,” gojo jests, letting your moans take over his mind while his lips trace down your neck, eyes just peeking over to see your ass ripple from the force. “not that i mind. how’s she doin’?”

“she’s getting,” a choked whine interrupts you, “a little tired.”

and that draws a laugh out of gojo who does nothing but tease you, something he likes to do even in makeout sessions, and he doesn’t hesitate to reach over to his bedsie table to grab his phone, leaning back to bask in your glory. here, your body just looks heavenly as you try your best to move on his lap.

“hang on a little more for me, princess,” with one hand, his larger hand leave chills all over your body and the other points his phone at you, not before making sure you were okay with it, “and smile for the camera.”

you try your best even when his hand make his way to your mouth, pulling it open with his fingers to slot it in. you’re sure you look like a whore right now, but the camera pointed your way only turn you on more, like it’s beckoning you to put on a show. and you loved the attention, so you close your lips around his fingers and start sucking, grinding even harsher on his cock that has gojo stuttering.

“y—yeah, attagirl . .” he grins at the video he takes, “show the camera how much of a cockslut you are.”

you whine, bringing the hand to your clit while you shove two hands onto his torso to really work your thighs out, feeling that familiar curl in your stomach once he starts rubbing his saliva-filed fingers along you bundle of nerves.

“r-right there, satoru—!” you swear under your breath, giving hooded eyes to the camera while you chase your high drunkenly, all sort of coherent thought banished from your head. “love your cock, love it, love it—!”

satoru swears he wants to cum from just watching you use him, and even holding himself back is proving difficult when you clamp and tighten around him until his fingers press particularly deep into your clit and you’re cumming with a loud cry of his name, body convulsing all over the video.

“tha’s a good girl . . cream my cock, yeeaaahh . .” gojo watches, hypnotised, as you lose control over your body, but the pleasure-filled whimper that you merge his name with is just too good, that he spills unexpectedly in you. the video is far from stable, so he only slaps the phone down to relish in his orgasm. gojo pushes his hips up and you gasp at the feeling, back arching when you feel his cum seep into you.

you’ve never even given much thought to pregnancy, but the feeling of his cum dribbling into you fogs your mind that you only want more after a mental note to buy the morning after pill tomorrow.

“n-need more,” you beg, fondling at his cheeks and undercut, “w-want more cum in me, satoru . .”

and it’s like a flip switches in him, because he’s flipping you over right after — he has to see his cum leave your pussy first though, taking the still ongoing video and putting it right up to your pussy, using his tip to smear your mixed juices all around.

“who knew i’d hired such a dirty girl?” he addresses the camera more than you, but he catches your flustered glance with a wink and after poorly setting up the camera on his bedside table (he just was too intoxicated on your cunt), he’s pushing back into you with a loud groan, not even caring for the consequences any more. his cum is just so much, too, spilling out the sides.

“only f’r you,” you mumble, grabbing at his forearms needily. your eyes flutter close as he bottoms out, your legs pushed right up to your chest as he folds you whichever way he wants to. at this point, if he wanted to own you, you wouldn’t object one bit, not when gojo satoru’s cock stretches your pretty pussy so nicely. “a cumslut only for you.”

“yeah?” he starts moving his hips and your arch into his hold, “i wonder how i got so — fuck — lucky.” everything is sloppy and wet and disgusting and you love every moment of it, even after he’s cummed in you the second, third, fourth time, you’re happy to be pumped full of his cum, giving him a tired, glistening grin that he returns.

“think i should be transferring over my life savings for a cunt this sweet,” you giggle at the compliment, but don’t protest when he’s pulling up the app to gift you with a hefty amount; both your salary and bonus, all from making gojo satoru fall helplessly just from your touch — something to brag about indeed.

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visionsofmagic · 7 months

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day 10: bruce wayne [car sex]

࿓ synopsis • bats fucks you in his batmobile to teach you a lesson after you disobey his order.

―❦ nsfw, autonomous driving, one has clothes on one hasn’t, suited!bats, batmobile, markings, car riding, possessiveness, jeaolusy, pet names, swearing, master kink, rude!bats, identity dilemma, inner toughts, spanking, begging, brat taming, clothes full on/off, kissing, ‘is all I guess. • 1.9k • thought comic bats while writing but you can imagine this with any version of batman as you like of course. enjoy the beginning of the second week of kinktober event, hope you will like this week too! [kinktober m.]

“bats – please –“ as the gotham’s city’s night lights pass behind the black windows of the batmobile you’re in, your own voice gets silent by the loud sound of the road, yet, they reach to his ears that are covered with his black batman mask. “it’s too much –“

the man under you stays still even when his actions don’t stop – fingering your clit, he seems like he doesn’t care about how you’re sitting on his lap, soaking onto his black bat suit, getting wetter each passing time – having no dress on you makes the situation more sinful, especially when he has his own armored suit on, even the mask is still covering his face and ears – his bat ears is a source of balance for you to hold onto while taking his fingers as if it’s the first time he does this.

you have no idea how this man makes you feel stranger to being fucked by him whenever he has you like this – weak yet so powerful because of the whole situation.

it should’ve been a peaceful night, a simple mission – yet, it turned into something more, and you were the one to blame the moment you began to flirt with one of the guests to distract him. you were doing what he told you to from the other line of the call, giving instructions one by one with the help of the device on your ear. it was going all right until the man got interested in you, buying you drinks, joking around, and asking if you would like to follow him to do upstairs.

you didn’t yet you had to act close to the man to get rid of him because bats told you to leave his side immediately. your mistake was taking that decision; putting one of your hands on the man’s shoulder, raising on your feet, and whispering something into his ear before leaving. apparently, this made bruce go mad – causing him to give you a lesson that you had to learn right away.

the moment you entered the batmobile, he took you onto his lap, taking all your clothes from one to another, looking darker than ever – hands fast, lips kissing yours so passionately that you believe your lips begin to bleed, the suit remains on as he begins to finger you – he just opens the zipper of his armored pants, leaving his hardened cock visible to your eyes.

wanting to touch him, your hand goes to his cock, yet, it is stopped in mid-air. he doesn’t waste any more seconds, slapping your clit, he adds, “you had to earn it. you will not get it until you beg for it.”

now here you are; already cum for one time, its hints still on your thighs and his pants, however, he doesn’t stop – you know he waits for you to beg – you try not to beg, stubborn, believing you did nothing wrong, but, it’s too much – he knows every point to make you beg – the vigilante know your own body more than you do.

when he hits your g-spot with only his gloved fingers, again and again, you cry out loud, “bruuuce – aggh – please -!” the words go out of your parted lips on their own as your hands grip his bat ears strongly, bouncing on his fingers when he doesn’t move them. the knowledge of making a mess out of you doesn’t reach into your brain, so, you continue fucking his fingers – his dark-colored eyes look up, a smirk position on his attractive masked face, mocking you. “please! I need youu – aggh!”

“pathetic,” he remarks, “bouncing on my fingers as if they’re my dick,” a chuckle breaks the lewd sounds – the outworld out of the batmobile is long forgotten. “want it so much? want me to bend you over, fuck you in this car?”

without thinking, you nod rapidly, eyes half-closed, your second cum drips onto his fingers, high hits the body, feeling a bit exhausted yet ready to take his thick cock now.

your mind can’t comprehend what he’s doing but in a moment you find him lowering his seat, opening enough gap between your bodies and the batmobile’s front.

afraid of falling into the surface, you try to hold his shoulders – still can’t believe you fucked yourself on his fingers and cum onto them when he talked dirty. the power – the effect he has on you is incredible! the mind is so dizzy because of him that you realize what he has done after a moment, your widening eyes look at the front mirrors of the car, seeing the road in front of you – the scene changes faster than you think – you swear the car moves like a lightning.

the reality hits your face similar to the feeling of cold water washing your body over on a hot day. however, you can’t focus on it when bruce’s gloved and wet hands position on your waist, highering your ass up, pulling your body closer to his face.

when you hold onto the wheel to stay still, excitement and shock blurring the last cramps of your mind, fear of going in an extremely fast batmobile makes your blood boil – yet the trust you have for bruce is there, strongly holding you. his low voice reaches your ears after a while, and his hot breaths wash your pussy and ass holes that clench around nothing, making you jump in pure pleasure. “you disappointed me,” he says, “you disobeyed a direct order from me. that man meant nothin’ to me but disobeying – oh – what a bad choice y/n.”

you couldn’t wait any longer, knowing his one step away from licking you, lust takes control of you, and you begin to say how sorry you’re – how you didn’t mean to – both you and bruce know you did mean to, to get his attention, to get this side of him, because you’re a brat of him who he will tame.

“keep your begs for forgiveness for later. you have to prove to me that you’re capable of obeying me, you pretty brat.”

“anything, I will do anything for you bru -!” a slap to the ass, a slap to the pussy – scream escapes from your lips. “bats! just give me an order, will do it – just please – please fuck me already!”

“in that case,” he says, not licking you, making you pout in disappointment but when he lowers down your body, his cock’s tip meets with your aching pussy’s folds, he clicks a button, the engine slows down a little bit, the wheel of the car gets closer to you. “hold the wheel.”

you try to understand what’s going on, “what are you doin – aggh!”

his left-hand grips your neck, holding it tightly, closing the gap between your face and his, he points to the wheel that stands right in front of you. “hold the fucking wheel if you want to be fucked, y/n.”

swearing lowly, your shaking hand finds the wheel, holding it strongly, waiting for bruce to push a button – when he does, the engine starts moving faster than before. unlike the previous situation, this time, it’s you who drives the batmobile.

“bruce – how – “ your words are cut off by his deep voice.

“don’t take your eyes off the road. you will take us to the home without an accident. if you turn even a little bit, I will stop fucking you my love.” the difference in his words and voice make you go crazy, and that craziness doubles up when he lowers your body down enough to make him thrust his thick cock into your pussy, filling you up.

screaming with sudden pain and pleasure, your eyes roll over for a second before looking right at the road in front of you – gotham city still stays under the darkness of the night, the only voice that world excepts is the powerful sound of the batmobile riding on the endless looking road, the moans coming from you and swears from bats mixing with the flesh hitting the flesh can be heard by only you and bruce – the sin you commit cannot be known by another.

the focus you put on the road gets distracted whenever bruce shoves his dick into your wet clit. back of your thighs hitting his clothed thighs sends pain through your body, leaving red marks on your flesh – the balls that meet with your ass cheeks increase the sensitivity you have, making you cry as you clean them rapidly to see the road.

his name comes out of you over and over again, the brain is too occupied to drive, the mind is too crazy to function, and the body is too full of him, the man who wants to devour you, and doing it right now – using your body as he pleases, not moving his hips greatly, instead, he makes use of your body by lifting it up, then, pulling it down until his dick fills your walls deeper, harder and rougher.

“fucking brat,” he says, a poison that his voice holds captures you – you feel so pathetic as if you’re his fucktoy now. then why do you feel so high like the most powerful drug in the whole world gets into your veins with the maximum level, you ask yourself, then the answer travels to your mind after he adds, “can’t obey her master? what a pretty yet mindless girl you are, don’t you think?” oh, right, he’s the most powerful drug on the whole world, and now, you’re at his mercy.

“u-huh – agghh – oh myy – bats! please, please, please –“ you have no idea what you’re pleasing for, but he knows – he chuckles lowly, having fuck great entertainment thanks to you that you feel a kind of pride in an instant.

“u-huh?” he mocks, fucks you still, close to the edge, just waiting for the right moment. “too cockdumbed to even understand what I’m saying. but you do good my good girl, keep going, we’re close to the cave.”

the new information makes you happy, smiling widely, and looking outside clearly, seeing the cave’s entering. with the relief, you begin to drive the car more carefully than before, hands getting stronger, losing yourself in the pleasure of being fucked by bruce in his damn batmobile.

finally reaching your destination, you slow down the engine, the cave’s front door opens, and pushing a button, bruce hugs you from behind, making you sit down on his cock with an instantaneous speed, earning the loudest moan out of you.

the mouth standing beside your ear says, “cum. cum on my cock.” and you who doesn’t know she’s waiting for him to allow her – to order, do what he tells, cum on his cock as his hot semen hit the deep inside of you in sync.

kissing your shoulder, he holds your shaking body because of both the coldness of the cave you have entered and the opposite sense of warmness that bruce gives – the smell of highness on the air, chests getting up and down, breaths rapid and low, lust ends – its place gets completed with the affection of love.

“did so good,” the car’s door opens, bruce takes your body in bridal style after wrapping it with his cape. his gentle lips put kisses on your face as he walks into the bathroom of his room, watching your soft features, eyes closed to sleep. he smiles fondly, proud of you. “let me take care of my pretty girl now.”

❦ tagging: @lilvampirina & @snowprincesa1 & @dookiemeshibear *lots of kisses!*

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cherienymphe · 7 months

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Smells Like Teen Spirit (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

Warnings: NON/DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, attempted murder + suicide, mentions of blood, loss of virginity, underage drinking, jealousy, kook!reader

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

➥ cont.

summary: Being one half of the royal couple of Figure 8 isn't what it's cracked up to be.

The first time Rafe hit you, it was on your birthday.

Like every year, your parents threw you a big party that hosted no less than a hundred people. A good number of those people were friends from school and familiar faces you’d grown up with. The other bunch were family friends that had more in common with your parents than you. You took their pretty cards filled with money and thanked them with a smile, relieved when they scampered off to congregate with the other forty somethings.

It was the same party every year. Half the people of Figure 8 in attendance, an abundance of gifts you could barely keep up with, and a light scold or two from your mother to smile and greet the next person who came in. Your hair was flawless and your dress was the perfect length.

The only difference this year was the presence of a boyfriend at your side.

“Rafe, if my dad sees us, I will never hear the end of it.”

Your tone was light and teasing, and you said it with a smile, but there was a hint of seriousness there. It really didn’t matter how older you grew to be, you were sure you’d always be your daddy’s little girl. The older man already hadn’t been the most excited when you told him you were dating Rafe Cameron, Ward Cameron’s son, and you were positive that the Cameron family’s reputation was Rafe’s only saving grace.

You’d just turned eighteen then after all and was already flaunting your new adult status.

The blue-eyed boy in front of you merely chuckled, tightening his arms around your waist and leaning in to kiss you again. The house and the yard were filled with almost too many people, so you hadn’t hesitated when Rafe discreetly guided you upstairs.

“He’s too busy talking about his new boat, isn’t he?” he wondered. “He’ll talk all night if they let him.”

You lightly tapped his chest, but you didn’t voice any disagreement.

Your back was leaning against your bedroom door, the muffled sounds of some classical music reaching your ears through the wall. Rafe’s hands were tight on your waist, and you both felt and heard him chuckle again, his lips still pressed against yours. Only this time, he kept laughing—softly and to himself—and you gave him a slight frown when he pulled away.

“I was just thinking…” Rafe pulled you close again. “How hilarious it would be if he was going on and on about that damn boat…none the wiser to his daughter getting fucked on her birthday right upstairs.”

This time you hit him a little harder, and Rafe only laughed again.

“You’re not funny,” you scolded, deflating a little as you pulled away from him. “Way to ruin the mood.”

You said it quietly as you sat down on the edge of your bed, but Rafe heard it clearly, and when you looked up at him, you recognized the look on his face instantly.

“Funny,” he started, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning against the door. “Mentioning sex usually has the opposite effect on most people.”

You rolled your eyes with a turn of your head, looking towards your window. The atmosphere was different, now, and you didn’t know if it was your fault or Rafe’s. He joked like that sometimes, and you knew it, so you could recognize that maybe you were being too sensitive.

The topic at hand, however, was a sensitive one for you.

“I really don’t want to have this fight, right now,” you mumbled.

You could feel his gaze on you, but you didn’t return it, determined to just stare down at the people in your yard. The air was thick, the tension even thicker, and you reached up to rub your arms, trying to rid them of the goosebumps that had appeared. Rafe hated being ignored, and you knew that, but you couldn’t bring yourself to continue the conversation because you knew what was brewing.

Rafe was the perfect boyfriend. He was pretty—the kind of pretty that even some girls would be jealous of. He came from the kind of family that taught him about manners and respect. He never hesitated to do what he could to make your life easier despite growing up wanting for nothing. You didn’t think it was possible for an already spoiled girl to be spoiled some more until you started dating Rafe and he proved you wrong. He treated you like a princess, so yes. Rafe was the perfect boyfriend.

Mostly.

“I’ve been really understanding, you know…”

Rafe’s voice was low, and your gaze dropped to your lap.

“…but we’ve been dating for what? Eight months?”

You swallowed, eyes burning.

“Do you know how hard Topper and Kelce would laugh at me if they knew my girlfriend of almost a year refuses to have sex with me?”

You scoffed, finally looking at him, brows pulled together.

“You make it sound like I’m punishing you,” you breathed. “Rafe, this has nothing to do with you, I… I’m just not ready.”

“…and still no ETA on when you will be, huh?”

You blinked at him, lips parting at his callous tone and words. You looked away, blinking back tears because you would hate it if you cried on your birthday of all days.

“You’re being an asshole.”

You whispered it, and you heard Rafe huff.

“I’m not trying to be,” he told you, and you heard him move closer. “…but come on. I get it…”

The bed dipped as he sat down next to you, and you felt his hand on your face, fingers grazing your cheek.

“You’re nervous, and it seems scary, but you’re treating me like I’m some stranger on the street, and not…your boyfriend. You know I’ll take care of you. I always take care of you, and that’s why I don’t understand it,” he bit out. “I treat you like gold, and here I am, eight months in and wondering if you even feel the same way.”

You whipped your head around to stare at him in disbelief, looking between his eyes. You didn’t know how he could be serious, but as you gazed at him, you realized that Rafe was very serious. You took a moment to scoot away from him just a tad.

“I show you everyday how much you mean to me, Rafe…but because I won’t have sex with you that means I don’t love you? So just forget all the other stuff, I guess,” you sneered.

Rafe reached for you when you started to turn away, shaking your head and lightly pushing at his hands. Today was your birthday, and you were fighting with your boyfriend…because sex was something you just weren’t ready for. You snatched your arm out of his hold, standing on unsteady legs.

“When you first brought this up, I told you then that I wasn’t ready, and you made it clear you were okay with waiting. Was that a lie?” you asked him, meeting his gaze.

Rafe ran his hand down his face, huffing to himself.

“No, but I just didn’t think I’d still be waiting almost half a year later.”

He was standing, now too.

“So, why are you? No one’s forcing you to stay here, Rafe,” you sadly told him with a shrug. “You don’t have to be with me if sex is that damn important to you. There are plenty of other girls out there who will happily give you what I don’t want to.”

You crossed your arms over your chest.

“…and I know because I see the looks they give you…and the looks they give me.”

You were used to envy. You’d been on the receiving end of it all your life. Growing up on this side of the island guaranteed that from birth, but you also knew it was because your standing was only rivaled by Sarah Cameron. If Rafe’s sister were anyone else, you might have found yourself involved in some one-sided rivalry, but Sarah was a lot like you.

Just a girl born into fortunate circumstances.

However, what you weren’t used to was envy because of the man you loved. When it came to your house and your lifestyle and everything else, it never bothered you because no one could take those things from you. Rafe, on the other hand… You knew what he was like and what he was used to. It was why you’d been very honest about your sexual history and lack thereof from almost the beginning. If Rafe was going to leave you for someone else all because you wouldn’t have sex with him, you would have rather he do it early.

Not now…not eight months in because now you loved him, and the thought made you want to cry, and it would take just as many months to get over him.

“If I wanted any of those other spoiled bitches then I wouldn’t be here,” Rafe told you. “Besides, you think I’m just going to walk away with nothing after investing so much time and money and energy into you?”

You reared back at that, eyes widening just a tad, and Rafe seemed to realize how that came out. He sighed, reaching for you just as you stepped away from him. You heard him curse when you left the room, ignoring the sound of him calling your name as you hurried to mix yourself in with all of your guests downstairs.

Rafe talked about you like some business investment he was waiting to get a return on. It hurt, a lot, and while you wanted to believe he hadn’t meant it like that in his head, you couldn’t help but to wonder if that was really how he saw you. Your mother smiled at you when she saw your face, none the wiser to your temporary absence. Your own smile was forced as she introduced you to their new golfing buddies.

You didn’t know when Rafe came back downstairs, only quickly glancing away when your eyes connected with his after some time. If your parents noticed your distance from him, they didn’t comment on it, and after a while, you barely noticed it yourself. You immersed yourself in your friends, halfway listening to boyfriend troubles and semester woes.

This was the only thing you and Rafe ever fought about. Plenty of your friends had boyfriends before who tried to pressure them into doing things they didn’t want to do. You were always the friend to tell them to dump them without hesitation, so why hadn’t you done the same? Was it because Rafe was so perfect in all other aspects of your relationship? The back and forth hadn’t ever been so serious before…not until tonight.

As you sipped on the drink you weren’t supposed to be having, you remembered the hurt you felt when Rafe implied you didn’t love him. What a crazy thing to say. You treated him just as well as he treated you, never mind the fact that you told him every day how much you loved him…but because you wouldn’t fuck him that meant otherwise?

It was enough to make you angry.

“Finally stopped hiding from me…?”

You tensed up for half a second, relaxing with a sigh as you heard him come closer. You were out by the water, now, sitting on the boat dock with one leg swinging. It had been nothing but just you and your thoughts for a good thirty minutes, and you guessed it took that amount of time for Rafe to realize you were no longer in the house.

“I don’t know yet,” you honestly told him.

“I didn’t mean it like that. You know I didn’t,” Rafe quietly said, getting straight to the point.

“…but I don’t know. You don’t even think I love you just because I won’t have sex with you. For all I know, that’s exactly how you see me,” you mumbled.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Says the guy ruining my birthday!”

You were looking up at him, now, tearfully, and you shook your head. Saying it aloud made you realize just how shitty it was, and you sniffed, pulling yourself to your feet.

“Just go home, Rafe…”

He stopped you from walking by him, and you ignored anything he was trying to say. The more he leaned in, that was when you smelled it, and your frown deepened at the stench of alcohol on his breath. You didn’t know why the smell made you so angry. It was a party, after all, but maybe it was the fact that if anyone of the two of you deserved to drown their sorrows in booze, it was you. Not Rafe. Pushing at his chest, you scoffed.

“One argument…and you’re already getting drunk?”

You jerked your face away from his hand, glowering at him.

“Don’t you want to at least wait for Ward to give you the daily disappointment speech?”

The slap wasn’t as hard as it could’ve been, but it was hard enough to make your face burn.

You were staring at the water from when your head had whipped to the side, and when a nightly breeze blew by, kissing your skin, only then did the dull burning sensation fade away into a painful one. Your lips were parted in shock, and you were slow to reach up and touch your cheek. The silence was loud, and when you finally looked at Rafe, he looked as shocked as you felt.

All of your breath had left you, and your brain was short-circuiting, desperately trying to reconcile your boyfriend with the same guy who’d just slapped you. It didn’t seem real, and yet the dull pain you felt said otherwise. A few tears escaped against your will, and it was only then did Rafe move. His face fell, but you were already backing away.

“Y/N-.”

“Don’t touch me,” you tearfully spat. “What is wrong with you?”

He didn’t listen, grabbing your arms anyway, and you were still in too much shock to really fight back. Rafe cooed at you, trying to take your face into his hands no matter how much you protested. You wanted him far away from you, and your brain was unsure of how to achieve that, still grappling with the memory of his palm connecting with your cheek.

“Hey, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to do that,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. “Baby, stop.”

You shoved at his chest, hitting it, but he wasn’t deterred. He only rested his free hand on the back of your head, holding you against him, and the feel had more tears spilling over. You kept trying to get away, but Rafe refused to let you, repeatedly apologizing and shushing you. You could feel the cool metal of his ring against your scalp, his lips there too as he kept telling you he was sorry.

Your chest was so tight, and it ached just as much as your face. Your mind was still fighting to make sense of what had happened tonight, and despite Rafe’s apologies for his entire behavior, you told yourself that this was the last straw. Rafe had ruined your birthday in more ways than one, and you were done. You had to be.

…because you deserved better.

The first time you had sex with Rafe—with anyone ever—you’d been terrified.

…and drunk.

An entire month after your birthday, and you didn’t know if you were more shocked or angry that you stayed with Rafe. You had been so determined to leave him that night. He had ruined your birthday beyond repair, and you knew that anytime you looked back on the night you turned nineteen, you’d only remember Rafe slapping you on the dock.

…but you’d also remember his profuse apologies, and the tears in his eyes as he begged you to forgive him.

He was drunk. That was what he kept saying, that he was drunk and acted before thinking. It was barely a reason and certainly wasn’t an excuse, so why did you stay? It was stupid to stay…and yet you did. You let Rafe kiss your face and lead you back to the party that had long died and smile in the face of the parents whose daughter he’d just hit.

You’d answered the phone as he called you, taking almost half an hour to just tell you again how sorry he was and how he didn’t know what came over him and how it would never happen again. You’d never known Rafe to be so apologetic in all the time you’d been dating him. It would’ve been sweet if it weren’t for the circumstances, and the whole time, you’d only been able to listen in silence with your fingers grazing your face.

You hadn’t been able to look him in the eye for days, going over it in your head again and again. Torn between listening to your gut and telling yourself that it had just been a one-off thing, a bad drunken night. After all, what you’d said to him hadn’t been the nicest, knowing how he felt in regard to Ward and his relationship with him. It didn’t make it right…but you had provoked Rafe. You’d said it to hurt him…to make him angry… Right?

…but that wasn’t the case a month later.

Things between you and Rafe hadn’t been the same since. He still doted on you, and your parents still adored him, and you were reluctant to admit you still loved him, but you could never get that night out of your mind. You could never forget how swift it had been, how no thought to you had been spared. Rafe had only been focused on retaliating, hurting you, and it was something you often struggled with. You believed it wouldn’t happen again…but what if it did?

Without even realizing it, you became less argumentative with the blond. You gave him less pushback, you smiled more and became more agreeable to his suggestions. You spent more time with him, making him happy. You believed him when he said it wouldn’t happen again, but in the back of your mind, something in you was doing everything you could think of to make sure it didn’t.

…and that was why you still didn’t quite understand how the fight had started.

Something about Topper…or Kelce.

You were so drunk, it was hard to remember.

“I saw you!”

You had blinked at Rafe from your place on the couch, staring up at him in wonder and confusion. Another Friday meant another party, and promising your mother you’d be back by a certain time, you’d allowed Rafe to help you into his truck. Nothing about the night had been out of the ordinary, and it was why you found yourself wracking your brain.

“Rafe, I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you softly told him, trying to understand why he was so mad.

The only son of Ward Cameron knocked the glass of water right out of your hand, and you flinched at the action, blinking at the sight of shattered glass on the floor. You’d gotten it to try and help you sober up before you went home, and you stared at the spilled water with parted lips. You were too drunk to fully grasp the severity of the situation you were now in.

Suddenly Rafe was there, too close, leaning down over you with his hands resting on the back of the couch. You leaned back and away from him, eyes wide as he looked at you like you were something he’d find on the bottom of his shoe. Like he was so disgusted with the sight of you, and again, you wracked your brain to understand what you’d done. To understand how to fix this.

Rafe’s blue gaze had been cold, icy, and you hadn’t missed the tick of his jaw. The alcohol in your system hindered your thinking, and that had seemed to make Rafe angrier, like he was furious you couldn’t put it together. Read his mind. Overwhelmed, you hadn’t been able to stop a few tears of frustration from escaping, and that just seemed to really send him over the edge.

“You were in his lap,” he had bit out, and only then did you finally understand.

Your odd relationship with your boyfriend these days had driven you to drink more than you ever had. You’d been sloppy…clumsy, and Topper was nice enough to help you back to your feet after you’d quite literally fallen right onto his lap. You wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, but one look into Rafe’s eyes had you swallowing it down.

He was very serious…and very angry.

You reached for him, but Rafe only slapped your hands away, straightening and looking down his nose at you. It was a look that made you feel so…cold, and with one blink, you remembered that you were alone. Sarah was God knows where, and the remaining Camerons had gone out to eat. The house was usually empty during this time, but it wasn’t this Friday night.

It consisted of you…and your angry boyfriend.

“I should…I should go. Call my mom,” you mumbled, pushing yourself to your feet.

Your attempts to get by Rafe went unsuccessful, and with each block to your path, something deep within your gut just…dropped. Your gaze met a familiar blue one, and nothing about it was warm, welcoming. Rafe seemed to be so mad at you about something so silly, but instead of just talking about it later when you were both much clearer headed…he didn’t want to let you leave.

“Is that what you’re gonna do?” he’d mocked, a mean look on his face. “Call mommy and daddy to come get you?”

Sarah.

You reminded of him of Sarah.

That was what he’d said, what he’d thrown at you. His tense relationship with the other girl was no secret to anyone, least of all you, and you winced at every insult he threw at you. Spoiled brat. Perfect princess. Uptight prude. It shocked you for a lot of reasons, but mostly because Rafe wasn’t drunk. He wasn’t sober, but you’d hardly seen him drink all night and not nearly as much as you, and he was insulting you with confidence, throwing all of these things at you that you never knew he felt.

“I’m just going to go home, okay? You’re being an asshole, and I don’t know why, so I just…”

At some point, your back was grazing the wall, and Rafe was hovering before you, a look in his eye like leaving was the very last thing he wanted you to do. Every move of yours was mirrored, every turn met with one of his own, and for the first time ever…you were afraid of your boyfriend.

When Rafe hit you that night, you hadn’t been scared. Not really. You’d been angry…shocked…disbelieving. Not scared though. You’d just wanted to be away from him, you had even wanted to hit him back, but not once did you remember feeling scared for your life. Not like this night, and you couldn’t keep it together.

“Rafe, please, I just…I just wanna go home,” you choked out, touching your temple. “We can talk about this tomorrow.”

You were so confused as to how you got here. The night had taken such an unexpected turn, and more than anything, you wanted to sleep it off and write the whole thing off as a bad dream. You wanted to get some more water and take a shower and skip to the part where you had a pounding headache in the morning. You didn’t understand how a night of partying had turned into an argument with your boyfriend.

Although, you supposed it wasn’t much of an argument. Mostly Rafe yelling at you and you trying to understand why. Rafe was determined to make this into something it wasn’t, and when it became clear that he wasn’t going to let you leave without dead-ing this whole thing, you frowned at him.

“I fell. You know I fell, you know…”

Your words died in the air as Rafe rolled his eyes, and something in you was telling you that Rafe was going to believe what he wanted to believe. He was determined to make something true, and it startled you to realize that you’d lost this argument before it even began. Slipping from in between Rafe and the wall was a mistake.

A mistake that had consequences.

Your purse was halfway across the room before you could even grab it good, Rafe suddenly in your face again. He was yelling about a whole bunch of nothing, and when you turned from him again, Rafe made sure it was the last time, gripping your upper arm so hard that you actually cried out. His other hand followed suit, and he shook you, hard enough to make your head whip back and forth.

The only time he listened to you was when you asked him to let you go.

…and he did just that…shoving you in the process.

The kitchen counter slowed your fall only a bit, but it added to the pain more than anything else. Trying to get up proved fruitless, because Rafe was there, kneeling before you with one hand on the counter. The other was on your face, forcing you to look at him. You were too drunk to make full sense of everything he was saying, to grasp the danger you were in. When you finally did, it was too late.

…because Rafe was already ripping the dress he bought you a week ago.

You thought it was a joke at first—some awful and insensitive scare tactic—until you were reaching up to pull at the hand around your throat. Your other hand slapped at the cabinets below in panic, and with a knee between your legs, it was impossible to close them. You knew that you were alone, but that fact didn’t stop you from crying out.

“You really expect me to just watch you throw yourself at my friends? Huh?”

The kitchen floor was cool against your back.

“…and laugh about it?”

He was fumbling between you both, and the room was spinning too much for you to understand why. You felt nauseous, and Rafe was hurting you, and you were cold. Not to mention that your head had started to hurt, but you also realized that everything was hurting.

“But you won’t even touch me.”

You felt like you’d been punched in the gut…only lower.

The pain of Rafe’s intrusion had you wailing, and the difference in your reactions couldn’t have been starker. It was hard to decipher, but you were sure that Rafe had moaned, a low drawn-out sigh as he sheathed himself inside of you. You could feel Rafe’s chest heaving against yours, could feel his heartbeat, could even hear his shaky breath.

You, on the other hand…

You couldn’t move. You felt frozen, restricted by something unseen, and when you tried to fight against it, you gasped. One shift had you wincing, and tears spilled over almost immediately. Your hands were pressing against his chest, now, desperately trying to push Rafe away, pushing off of you… out of you. It was no good, Rafe in a whole other world you weren’t privy too as he pulled back.

The feel had you wincing again, and you thought…

Well, you thought wrong.

Your relief was short-lived, and Rafe ignored everything you said as he started to thrust inside of you. His hips barely left yours, only enough to create friction, and you pushed your forearm against his neck, fighting to get him to stop. The pain wasn’t something you could wrap your head around, and you didn’t know if you were grateful or not that you were so drunk.

Every snap of Rafe’s hips made you cry harder, harsh sobs escaping and echoing in the otherwise silent kitchen. The sound of your bawling was only rivaled by the groans that escaped Rafe, your boyfriend pointedly ignoring your plight. One of his hands pushed against your face, forcing your head to the side…as if he didn’t want to see your face.

See the reality of what he was doing to you.

You thought at some point that the pain would go away, subside, but it felt like it only got worse with each thrust of his cock. Rafe was a man on a mission with only one objective in mind, and you were having the hardest time sorting your thoughts, realizing that in this moment you were a means to an end. An objective to be met through the use of your body.

…but you supposed it was more than just that.

Rafe was always entitled, a trait you found somewhat endearing much like towards an entitled child, but it hadn’t occurred to you that he’d feel entitled to you too. Before the night of your birthday, you knew the one thorn in your relationship, the one thing to actually put a crack in your relationship. Deep down somewhere, you expected Rafe to just leave you. After all, why wouldn’t you?

There was no universe in which you’d ever consider the possibility of the alternative.

The possibility that your boyfriend would just take what he wanted.

It didn’t last long—or maybe that was the alcohol in your system sparing you—but you couldn’t even be relieved. Even after Rafe pulled out, spent and satisfied and out of breath, the pain still remained. He was talking, and you didn’t know if he was talking to himself or you, but you paid it no mind. You could still feel him deep in your gut, and you rolled onto your side, curling into yourself.

You didn’t hear him the first time, but the second time Rafe told you to get up, he was forcing you to your feet. It hurt, and you could barely walk, and your confusion only grew. His hold was tight, and his tone sounded off, and you discovered why when headlights from the yard bled through the windows and into your line of sight.

He was rushing you to get upstairs, but you kept stumbling from both the pain and your blurry vision. Rafe didn’t let you go until you were just inside of his room, and as you collapsed to the floor, you could hear the door opening downstairs. You couldn’t stop crying even if you wanted to, and you hadn’t even realized Rafe had left—to give some half-baked excuse for the broken glass, no doubt—until he returned, suddenly kneeling at your side and begging you to stop crying.

You tried to push him away, but your movements were sluggish, weak, and you weren’t able to hold your own as he pulled you to your feet. Rafe stumbled into the bathroom with you, an arm around you and holding you up as he started the shower. You didn’t want him touching you, but you were physically unable to stop him. Every step hurt and made you stumble, every wave of your arm made you sway, and when the warm water ran over you both, there was nothing you could do as he washed away every remnant of his assault.

You were at Rafe’s side on his birthday, a small smile on your lips as he kept an arm around your waist. Rose thanked you for coming, not that she would expect anything different, and Wheezie asked if you would be staying over. The youngest Cameron had taken a liking to you—all of them did really—and she looked forward to having you around. You wanted to tell her no, but that wasn’t what you said. Instead, you said:

“Its’ Rafe’s birthday. Why wouldn’t I?”

The dark-haired girl beamed, adjusting her glasses, and her satisfaction was contagious. You knew that Rafe’s dynamic with his family was tricky at the best of times, and while you were sure they loved you just fine, something in you also wondered if they liked who Rafe was when he was around you. They were happy to host you for as long as they could.

They had no idea that it was only 24 hours earlier when Rafe tried to kill you.

Trying to leave Rafe resulted in the last thing you ever expected.

That night—and all the other nights that followed—haunted you. When you closed your eyes, you could only see Rafe at his lowest, holding you down and hurting you. You could only feel the pain of him forcing himself inside of you, and the pain that lingered when he was no longer there. The memory of bloody water swirling down the drain was a constant in your mind. As well as the memory of Rafe putting you in his bed, pulling his shirt down to your knees.

You should have left the night of your birthday, you should’ve gotten out then, and none of it would have ever happened, but you told yourself that late was better than never. You told yourself that you learned your lesson and you didn’t have to experience any more hurt to leave. Your eyes were open, and while you didn’t know if you’d ever go against Rafe legally for what he did, you did know that you were leaving him. You had to focus on each step at once. Trying to think so far ahead was enough to scare you.

Right now, you just needed to leave him.

His entire visage had been eerily calm as you broke up with him, voice shaking as you did. Even he hadn’t been able to deny how your relationship had deteriorated, become something unrecognizable and unhealthy. The morning after, you felt like you were existing outside of your body. You could see Rafe leaving apologetic kisses along your face as you stirred, but you couldn’t really feel it. You couldn’t feel his hands either, not until they found a home between your legs, at least.

Your protest was almost immediate, but Rafe had assured you it was fine…and you were scared.

So, you believed him.

Experiencing pain and pleasure at the same time was foreign to you. Rafe’s previous assault was not something to be ignored, but it felt odd to come around him and hiss from the pain of it at the same time. He was gentle, pressing his lips to yours and grazing his fingertips against your skin. His thrusts had been slow and careful, but the damage had been done, and every push of his hips brought out conflicting reactions.

That was how it always went.

Even after the pain and bruises were long gone, you couldn’t stop being afraid of Rafe. After all, he’d made it perfectly clear that he wouldn’t respect any kind of refusal from you. What kind of relationship was that? How could you thrive in that? Rafe may have been your first everything, but you weren’t naïve. He was an abusive asshole…and you were just too scared to do something about it.

Until last night.

You thought it would be easy. You even remembered internally laughing at yourself for how dramatic you’d made it in your mind. You thought… You thought that Rafe would move on, let you go. After all, he’d finally gotten what he wanted, and you had even exhaled when he nodded, a soft ‘okay’ soon to follow.

“Let me drive you home,” he’d said.

“Okay,” you’d replied.

You didn’t know why you thought it would be that easy.

Things with Rafe hadn’t been easy in months, and your attempted breakup was no different.

You realized that when the needle on the speedometer started to rapidly climb, the sound of Rafe’s revving engine loud in the truck. You asked him what was going on, where he was going, even though deep down you knew. You knew Rafe better than anyone probably, so you knew the answers to your questions before you even asked them.

“Rafe, stop,” you’d begged, reaching for his arm, but the blond simply fixed you with a wry smile.

“Why?” he’d wondered with a shrug. “So, you can leave me? Why would I want that?”

The houses and trees were flying past you outside the window, and you never felt more powerless than in the moment you were trapped in Rafe’s truck, unable to do a thing as he raced down the road towards the end he’d already picked out for the both of you. Any attempt to grab the wheel only resulted in Rafe jerking it—jerking the vehicle in the process—and scaring the shit out of you.

Retracting everything you’d said earlier only resulted in a harsh slap to the steering wheel, a dry laugh from Rafe soon to follow.

“You think I believe that load of shit? Huh?”

“Rafe-!”

“You just tried to break up with me not even thirty minutes ago,” he screamed.

He wasn’t wrong, and you still wanted to, but you were more afraid of dying than living a lie. You pleaded with your boyfriend, assuring him that you didn’t mean it. He only laughed again, and you got the feeling that Rafe was genuinely amused by you. By your tears, by your fear, and by your desperation.

Your heart was racing so fast it could be classified as painful. Your hands were sweating and constantly sliding against the door from where you tried to hold on to it. You pulled at his arm when he swerved into the other lane, swerving back just in time to miss an oncoming truck. Your stomach twisted painfully, bile rising in your throat, and at this point you couldn’t even see the road because of your tears.

“Rafe, please, please just talk to me,” you cried.

His knuckles were white as he gripped the wheel, blue eyes focused on the road with not a glance spared towards you, and you pressed your hand to your mouth. You looked out of the window again, unable to make out a thing, and when you reached for Rafe this time, he didn’t slap your hand away. He didn’t protest when you wrapped your arm around his waist, leaning into him and resting your hand against his chest.

You knew that your tears were staining his shirt, and you didn’t know if you stopped fighting as some unconscious tactic or simply because you were accepting what was impossible to escape. Rafe had to have been going a hundred miles an hour, this kind of speed something your brain could barely fathom. It was after some time when you felt his hand on your head and some time after that when you gradually felt the truck slowing.

You were still shaking long after it came to a stop in some wooded area, and the silence in the vehicle was loud. Rafe was just playing with your hair while you trembled against him, and when he stopped, it was only to trail his hand to your neck, gripping the back of it harshly as he forced you to sit up. You knew you looked as distraught as you felt, but Rafe…

Rafe looked calm and in control and nothing less.

His blue eyes ran over your face, drinking in your trembling lips and wet cheeks, lingering on your wide eyes the longest. You felt him rub his thumb along your skin, and when he hummed, it harshly pressed against the side of your neck. Suddenly, the corner of his pink lips curved just the slightest, and nothing about it was soothing.

“I wasn’t serious… You know that, right?”

You didn’t respond because he wasn’t kidding, and you both knew it. Rafe shifted, moving closer, and he brought his other hand up to touch your cheek, wiping your tears away. He studied your eyes, leaning in and grazing your lips.

“It was just…something I didn’t mean. You understand though. Doing things…saying things we don’t mean,” he slowly said to you, swiping his tongue between his lips. “Right…?”

The drop in his voice and the slight raise of his brows had you swallowing, and he was looking at you like he dared you to disagree. Fighting the urge to throw up, and with a shaky nod, you told Rafe what he wanted to hear.

“Right,” you whispered, and he chuckled.

“Alright,” he breathed with a blinding smile, pulling you into his side. “Kelce is throwing together some small thing at his house. I told him we might stop by…”

He trailed off, leaving room for a comment, and you only shrugged.

“That’s fine with me.”

Your voice was barely audible, but Rafe heard you fine, starting the truck and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I knew it would be.”

You’d been quiet the whole night, and you’d been quiet all day, only existing as silent support to Rafe on his birthday. If anyone noticed your reserved demeanor, no one commented on it. No one knew that as you wished Rafe a happy birthday, you were afraid of what could happen if you didn’t smile hard enough. When he kissed you, you could only think of how he’d kissed you after threatening to kill you both. Every time Rafe held your hand, it felt like a chain tethering you to him.

You dreaded the moment the party would thin out and everyone would start trickling from the home in pairs, heading back to the comfort of their own homes until just Rafe and his family remained. Eventually they would call it a night too, and you and Rafe would be alone, and you wouldn’t have a choice but to kiss him back when he eventually kissed you.

…and kiss you he did.

“You almost ruined my birthday, you know,” he mumbled into the kiss, making you pause for half a second.

Your only response was a quiet apology, and Rafe sighed into your mouth.

“That’s okay, baby,” the blond purred. “You know I’ll let you make it up to me.”

You were terrified of your boyfriend, and that was why you let him undress you. You let him wrap his arms around you and hold you close and press kisses to your skin. It was surreal to have sexy with someone you were afraid of, like you were being held hostage in your own body. If Rafe noticed—and you were sure that he did—he didn’t care.

He was content to lay you down and bury his face into the crook of your neck. In fact, you were sure Rafe liked your fear, liked that you were so scared of him. You thought it made it all the more fun for him to push his cock into you and feel you tremble in fear. You just knew there was something in Rafe that took great pleasure in making you momentarily sacrifice your fear of him for ecstasy instead.

He forced your head back, and your chest arched upwards into him. You gasped at the feel of his tongue on your skin, gliding over a hardened bud and tasting you. His hips came down slowly, like he was savoring the feel of you clinging to his cock. He sighed with every thrust, and you were never able to swallow down your own moans once Rafe started stroking that fire building within you.

“Fuck,” he groaned, nipping at your lip as he plunged his cock into you.

One of your legs were thrown over his shoulder, and the stretch burned in a way that wasn’t painful but wasn’t the best either. One of your hands was wrapping around his arm, trying to ground yourself as the other twisted into his sheets. You couldn’t stop gasping, clenching down on him every time Rafe hit that spot in you that made you lose your breath.

When he pushed your leg back more, you yelped in pain, but Rafe only hummed. His thrusts became rougher, and he only hummed again when you hissed. Your hand rested on his chest, pushing against him slightly—a nonverbal communication—but Rafe ignored it.

“Rafe…”

His hips were slapping against yours, and you couldn’t even pretend to enjoy it. Your other hand came up too, and he slapped it away, that same hand wrapped around your throat only moments later. You let out a choked cry, reaching up, but Rafe didn’t stop, continuing to fuck you and choke you.

“Look at me-look at me,” he quietly spat.

Too afraid not to, you did, your distressed gaze meeting his even one in the low lighting. He was so close, nose almost brushing against yours, and he looked between your eyes. His hand tightened around your neck, making your heart skip a beat, and his free hand covered your breast, squeezing it, and your free leg kicked at the sheets.

“I will kill you.”

Your nails pressed into the skin on his arm.

“Do you understand me? You try to leave me again…and I will kill you.”

Your heart was threatening to burst from your chest, and the ceiling behind Rafe’s face was starting to blur. The edges of your vision were growing faint, darkness creeping along the outer rim.

“I will dump your body on the side of the road, and I will get away with it.”

His words and cadence were slow, purposeful, and you knew that Rafe was entirely serious. Tears had long spilled over, and you couldn’t stop crying. Rafe shook you, your neck straining from the action, and the whole time he kept fucking you. His lower movements didn’t stop once, sliding into you over and over and stroking your walls all the while he threatened you.

He roughly let you go, and you coughed, touching your throat and shaking uncontrollably. When Rafe shifted, your leg falling to the bed, you pressed your hands to your face, sobbing into the palms of them. Rafe caged you in, thighs meeting yours with every thrust, and he didn’t seem to care at all at the sight of your distress. In fact, he kissed the back of your hands, humming with every stroke, and you could only think that if you had broken up with him on your birthday then he wouldn’t be threatening your life on his.

Ward Cameron may have felt a lot of things about Rafe, but he wasn’t going to let his only son go to jail.

You should have known that when you called the police, throat tight and phone call tearful as they asked what your emergency was. Telling the woman on the other side of the phone that you were hiding from Rafe Cameron inside of the bathroom wasn’t easy. Telling her that he had a gun was even harder, and something in you wondered if they would’ve been as urgent if they hadn’t heard his booming voice from the other side of the door as he threatened you.

You were sitting on the steps when a familiar car pulled into the driveway behind the cruiser, and you felt your face crumble. There was some relief as the older man went back and forth with Shoupe, but it dwindled the longer it went on. When Ward turned his head towards you, you dropped your gaze, eyes tracing the blood on your foot from where a few shards of glass had nicked it. You didn’t dare look up, not even when you heard his footsteps approaching despite the loud protests from the Sheriff.

When Ward said your name, it was cautious—gentle—and you shook your head.

“No.”

Your name rolled off of his tongue again, and you interrupted whatever he was going to say.

“No, no, no! No,” you cried.

You knew what he was going to say, where this was going, and you refused. You were tired, so tired, and each time you’d tried to do the right thing after your disastrous birthday, you got screwed over. Each time, Rafe was one step ahead or using that charming smile and devious words to convince you it would never happen again. Every slap, every shove, every hand around your throat was proof of all the lies that left his lips.

You were sure that the only truth Rafe had ever told was when he said he’d kill you.

It was silent between you two for some time, and you heard Ward sigh. You bit your lip, worrying it so much you started to taste blood, and you sniffed, wiping your face as you refused to look at the man. When he took another step towards you, you flinched, and only then did you look up to see the way Ward’s face fell.

You watched him press his lips together, only a thin line, now.

“I want you to tell me what happened.”

You scoffed.

“You know what happened. I’m sure Shoupe told you,” you forced out, and Ward exhaled through his nose.

He briefly glanced over his shoulder, looking at his son in the back of the cop car.

“I want to hear it from you. I want to know how a couple’s quarrel turned into-.”

“A couple’s quarrel?” you repeated in disbelief, tears falling as you exhaled. “He threw a vase at me. He put a gun in my mouth.”

You couldn’t tell how Ward took your words, but he did put his hands on his hips.

“Now, Y/N…you know it’s a crime to lie to the police.”

His response didn’t surprise you, and you nodded, your laugh humorless. Ward knew you were telling the truth, he knew just how unhinged Rafe could be, but he didn’t want him in jail. He couldn’t have the Cameron name tarnished by the arrest of his only son on domestic violence charges. Ward would rather handle this in private, away from prying eyes…and it disgusted you.

“I’m not lying, and you know I’m not lying,” you choked out.

“Why would Rafe do this? Right out of the blue?”

You were on your feet, now, sneering at the other man.

“It’s not out of the blue. Rafe has been treating me like shit for months!”

“…and this is the first we’re hearing of it…?”

The eldest Cameron tilted his head to the side, studying you, and you felt your breath leave you. You watched him touch his chest, gaze soft as he seemed to plead with you.

“Now, I’m not saying that’s not true…but you know that’s what they’re going to ask you. They’re going to ask you why you didn’t tell anyone…and they’re going to note how convenient this all is.”

You knew that, and you looked away, hands falling at your side.

“Rafe says you dropped a vase, and it started an argument.”

“He’s lying-.”

“…and anyone can say you’re the liar.”

You pressed your hands to your forehead, squeezing your eyes shut as more tears fell. Even through your lids, you could see the change in colors from the flash of the squad car, and when you opened your eyes again, the procession of red and blue lit the yard.

“That gun is legally his…and no one saw him do what you claim he did.”

“Why are you protecting him?” you loudly wondered, looking at the man in disbelief.

You’d eaten dinner with his family, even watched his daughter some nights, and he’d smiled in your face on numerous occasions, treating you like his own. Now, though…when push came to shove…Ward Cameron was showing you that you were not one of his own. Rafe was his own…and you were now a threat.

He took a step towards you, and you reached out to grip the rail to keep yourself from falling.

“I am just telling you what will happen if you continue with this,” he slowly started, and you crossed your arms over your chest, refusing to look at him. “They will take Rafe away, and I will pay his bail, and he’ll come home with me. There were no witnesses, and everything is pure speculation, a simple case of he said she said.”

You knew that he was right, and you felt yourself start to shake.

“…and in that scenario, I can’t help you.”

You knew what he was saying. You knew that he was talking about protecting you from more than just scrutiny and the law—he was also talking about protecting you from Rafe. Your lips parted, and you shakily exhaled. You felt like you were going to collapse, legs unsteady, and when you looked over…your eyes finally met a familiar blue pair.

You were positive that Rafe hadn’t taken his eyes off of you since they’d put handcuffs on him. If looks could kill, you were sure that you’d be six feet under, and you frantically blinked. No matter how much you wanted to, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, and your stomach churned at the memory of his hand on the back of your neck. His other held the gun, angrily forcing the weapon into your mouth as he sneered at you.

Something about returning the smile from some pogue at The Wreck—blond and rowdy and kind of familiar.

You recalled that his name was JJ.

The fight had started almost as soon as you got inside, and you shuddered at the flare of pain in your arm, recalling the way Rafe had shoved you into the wall. You’d only slid down just in time to miss the flying vase. Just thinking about it was enough to paralyze you with fear…and then you thought about what would happen should you choose to have a legal battle with Rafe and his family.

…and lose.

You let out a choked sob, looking away, and letting your face fall into your hands. You collapsed back down onto the steps, Ward’s voice reaching you.

“You tell Shoupe this was all one big misunderstanding…and I can do so much more for you. …but I can’t help you if you go through with this.”

You couldn’t stop crying, because you were trapped…and you knew it. Your parents had money too, just as much as the Cameron’s, but that only evened the playing field, it gave you no advantage, and you were back to square one of your word vs Rafe’s. You knew he would be far more forgiving if you just…did what Ward said. You knew that if you went through with this and lost, Rafe would wring your neck.

“I won’t let my son go to jail, Y/N. One way or another…”

You knew he was telling the truth, the conviction in his tone matching the certainty in your chest.

“…but at least this way, I can help you.”

Your knees bounced as you wrapped your arms around yourself, your tearful gaze focused on the perfectly manicured grass. You curled in on yourself, head falling, and your shoulders shook from your sobs.

“He scares me,” you struggled to say, and Ward placated you.

“I know…I know he does, but you have to let me help you.”

You pulled the ends of your sleeves over your hands, wiping your face. The night was still lit up with red and blue, and you closed your eyes, stomach sinking. It took everything in you to give Ward a shaky nod, and you kept your eyes on the ground as Ward waved the other man over.

You felt like you were betraying yourself, arm still aching and throat still raw from all of your screaming. A lot of your trembling was still from what had happened hours ago, and like that day in his truck…and the night of his party…you’d really thought you were going to die. You couldn’t go through that again, but Ward said that he would protect you because you knew Rafe better than anyone, and you knew that if you tried to press charges against Rafe and didn’t succeed…

He would kill you.

“Y/N wants to talk to you.”

You glanced up at the sound of your name, holding Ward’s gaze for a few seconds before finally meeting Shoupe’s.

“I want… I don’t-I don’t wanna press charges.”

Your words tumbled out, and for a moment, you were sure that Shoupe hadn’t heard you properly. You came to realize that he heard you fine, and his confusion wasn’t from a lack of understanding. You watched him rest his hands on his hips, looking between you and Ward.

“Now, Y/N…” he started, seemingly trying to organize his thoughts. “I heard that phone call. I heard what you said and I heard him yelling.”

“It was just a regular argument, Shoupe,” you whispered with a shrug. “It was stupid. A stupid vase…”

“That he threw…”

The pause was heavy, and you glanced away.

“That I dropped.”

You shook your head when he said your name, and you licked your lips, gaze pleading as they met his again.

“Please, just let him go. He didn’t do anything to me. It was a stupid fight that I exaggerated because…I was angry and things got out of hand, and this just went way beyond what I intended, so…”

The other man didn’t look like he believed you, at all, and you watched him glance at Ward—who hadn’t said a thing—before looking back to you. He sighed, fixing you with a look you couldn’t name.

“Are you sure…?”

Your only response was a nod, unsure if you could lie any more without breaking down. With an aggravated sigh—aggravation at you or at Ward, you didn’t know—Shoupe signaled to his deputy to let Rafe go. Ward was pulled to the side as the two men had a hushed and heated conversation, going back and forth, while your gaze rested on Rafe.

You felt like you were doing the worst thing possible as you watched them guide him out of the backseat. He looked far from happy as they uncuffed him, and just like all night, his gaze refused to leave you. The flashing red and blue bathed him, blue eyes glinting almost dangerously, and you pressed your lips together while you watched him rub his now free wrists.

The other men were distracted as Rafe slowly made his way over, and you didn’t dare move. You were too scared to, and as much as you wanted to pull your eyes away, you couldn’t find the strength to. It was just hours ago that you’d stared into that face as he yelled at you for something as harmless as a smile. Only hours ago, he was pushing you around and threatening you.

…and now those same hands were reaching for you and pulling you to your feet.

You cried for so many reasons as Rafe wrapped his arms around you, rocking you from side to side and shushing you in what was meant to be a soothing voice. They were tight, and you cried harder, apologies slipping past your lips before you realized what you were doing. Rafe was always quick to forgive if you were quick to apologize.

“I know,” you heard and felt him murmur into your hair.

“Please, please don’t…”

You both knew what you were begging for, and he gently shushed you.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out again, repeating it as many times as you thought you should, hoping and praying that it was enough. “You have to know that…”

Your words died in the air at the sound of his voice.

“I should be angry with you…but I understand,” he softly told you. “You were scared, and you should’ve been.”

You sniffed, staring at the red and blue grass.

“I went too far, and you were right to be scared.”

Rafe pressed a kiss to the top of your head, lingering there, telling you the words that brought you temporary relief.

“I forgive you.”

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe cameron imagine #dark!rafe cameron x reader #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction

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lovifie · 6 days

Text

Masterlist

Cw: mentions of alcohol, blowjob, Simon likes red lipstick.

Simon, and his civilian girlfriend that he was so afraid to introduce to his teammates.

He knows the men are great men, would (and he has) give his life to protect them. But he also knows that Johnny and Gaz with one too many drinks turn into a constant dick joke, enough to drive anyone away.

Still, tired of hearing the constant yapping from both sides to meet; surprisingly, it was Price the one who asked the most about “When are you going to introduce us to your missus, son?”, he finally agrees.

He tells you again and again that it's just a couple of drinks at a pub near base, nothing fancy, nothing especial.

You still knock the breath out of his lungs when you stand in the living room of your flat, twirling around for him. “What you think?” You say, his eyes instantly drawn to your red lips.

He looks you up and down, walking closer with a look you know very well, and he rests his hands on your hips, leaning closer. “Do we need to go? We can have fun here, dove.”

You look at him, surprised and offended. “Simon! Of course we do! It's literally your boss!” You remind him.

He groans, bending to hide his face on your neck, breathing your perfume in before standing back straight, holding your hand in his. “A’ight…”

Simon is overflown with pride when he walks with you hanging from his arm to the table where his team is. The pub is filled with military men, you can feel every single pair of eyes on you, but the massive man that calls you “lovie” and asks for back scratches is next to you, so not even discomfort can get to you.

The three men sitting down do a really good try to look at you up and down without getting caught, key word, try.

Simon introduces you to Johnny, Price and Gaz, guiding you to sit next to the last and him on the other side, shielding you from everyone else.

Simon leans back, heart beaming with pride when he sees how easy it is for you to steal everyone's attention, the three men looking at you with adoration.

It is easy to fall into a comfortable conversation, drinks passing by just as easy. His arm behind your back and his hand resting on your hip, his thumb caressing your skin over the thin material of the dress.

His eyes still locked into your pretty red lips, constantly moving as you talk to them, you pretty smile appearing again and again on your pretty face.

It's not too late that Price says to call it a night, talking about having to work the next day. He would never admit that he couldn't take it anymore with the way you would constantly look at Simon with hunger in your eyes.

And Price is nothing if not observant, because the moment Simon and you step inside your flat, you are pushing Simon into his armchair. Kneeling before him as you undo his belt.

“What are you doing, darling?” He asks, looking at you amused but still surprised with you taking the initiative.

“Cartwheels, Simon.” You say, finally undoing his pants to free his shaft. “What does it look like I'm doing?”

He chuckles, the laugh turning into a groan when you give a kitty lick to his tip, blood rushing south.

He can't peel his eyes away from your lips, even when he struggles to keep his eyes open. “I bet I can reach up to here.” You say, placing your fingertip at the base of his growing boner.

He pets your head, smiling to himself. “Whatever you say, dove.” He says, aware of the jaw ache his girthy dick is. But the look of determination on your face is enough to keep him from saying anything.

And it is not much longer, that you are bobbing your head up and down, easily taking him down your throat. He has his head thrown back, unable to hold it up anymore as he mumbles nonsense, his hand still resting on your head. He has his eyes closed hardly, trying to keep himself from coming so fast at the feel of your throat constricting his length. A futile attempt when you run your nails over his wide hips, making him buck them against your mouth, finally spilling deep into your mouth.

You finally pull back, licking your lips, satisfied with your attack. And with a smile on your face, you point to his softening dick, the imprint of your lipstick down at the base. “I told you I could.”

And when he looks down, his shaft reddish with the stain of your lipstick, but the clear mark down at the base has his groaning, the sight alone almost enough to get him going again.

Simon was afraid to introduce you to his teammates, but if the dates end up like today… he can wait to meet them again.

@thatoneslvt

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nanaslutt · 5 months

Note

Lol I just keep thinking about perv!geto taking her on a proper date for once lmao

PervyRoomate!Geto x reader

note: i have a running series of perv!geto u can find here // but you can read this w/ out context :3

Contains: fem reader, sex toys, exhibitionism, sexual tension, teasing, possessive!Suguru, fingering, car shenanigans, humiliation, degradation, praise, an unhealthy amount of dirty talk, Suguru has a big dick, nipple play, panty stealing, talk of masturbation, belly bulge if you squint, creampie,

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

A knock was rapped on your wooden door, interrupting a very important part of the drama you were currently watching. "What?" You yelled from your bed, not taking your eyes off the messy breakup scene in front of you. Your door squeaked open to reveal a handsome Suguru, looking too dressed up at 3pm on a Friday. He wasn't adorned in anything particularly fancy, but you weren't really used to seeing him in anything other than grey joggers and some band t-shirt.

You gave him a quick one over, admiring the black slacks that fit his thighs too well, the white button-up shirt he had tucked into them, and a like-new looking belt that was half on, as his fingers made quick work to thread the prong through the belt hole. "What are you doing? I told you I was taking you out tonight." He said, raising his eyebrows. It's not that you looked bad, but you weren't exactly ready for five-star cuisine in your booty shorts and tank top. "Riiight.. are you ready to go? or?" You asked, looking around the room in confusion before your eyes landed on his.

When he finished looping the belt through the buckle, he crossed his arms and leaned against his doorframe, smirking at you. "Get that disgusting look off your face," you cringed at him, pushing your laptop aside as you pulled your body up to sit crisscross on your bed. "I'm not taking you to McDonalds baby." He laughed, confusing you even more. "Okayy.. so where are we going?" you asked. You fully expected him to name some sit-down diner that was one or two marks fancier than a Mcdonald's, but you weren't expecting him to name the most expensive and highly rated restaurant in town.

Your mouth fell agape as you stood watching the dark-haired man in the doorway laugh at you. "Don't take offense to this, but you're not exactly the most wealthy person I know." You said, still looking at him in disbelief. "If Gojo asked me out to this place, sure, that might sound a little more realis-" "Don't talk about that idiot taking you out in front of me." Geto interrupted, uncrossing his legs as he shoved his hands in his pockets and closed his eyes, giving you a smile that did little to cover up his animosity.

Ever since you and Geto had started fucking around pretty regularly, you have noticed a change in his demeanor whenever Gojo would hit on you. It wasn't like it was anything new, Gojo has been hitting on you for years, for as long as Geto has been bringing him around, you think. Before you and Suguru started hooking up, whenever Gojo would flirt with you he would brush the white-haired man off for the most part, maybe give him a scoff or incredulous look if his attempt at a pickup line was really that horrid on the ears.

Recently though, whenever Gojo tried to hit on you, or his touch would linger a little longer than it should, Geto was quick to intervene. Putting himself between the two of you physically, or butting into the conversation to shut down his attempts. Geto knew you weren't interested in Gojo in the slightest, but he couldn't help but feel that greed-eyed monster of jealousy bubble up inside him whenever you laughed a little too hard at his jokes, or in this case, brought him up in conversation unprovoked.

"Sorry~ Didnt realize he was such a sore subject for you.." You teased, "Unriquitted love, maybe?" He knew you were trying to push his buttons, but you weren't far off. Just not in the way you were thinking, because he sure as hell wasn't interested in Gojo like that either. He sighed, before gripping something in his pocket and pulling it out of his pants, keeping it concealed in his fist.

"Anyways, I don't even know what I would wear to this place!" You said exasperated, glancing over to rake your eyes through your closet to see if anything caught your eye. Without making a sound, Geto slipped out of the room and quickly returned with a dark red bag, tossing it into your lap and landing it perfectly between your crossed legs. You peeked inside the bag and saw some sort of black fabric, you crunched your eyebrows together, looking back up at him. "Wear that." He said, his smirk returning to his face.

Your lips dropped open slightly, a small gap being created between your lips. "Sugu.. If you robbed a bank you know I would never tell anyone.. right?" You said, all too seriously. The man burst out in laughter, "Fuck! I'm not as broke as you think!" He spoke through his laughter, holding his hand over his chest. "Just got a raise at work is all, couldn't think of a better way to spend my first fat check." He crossed his arms again, keeping the one fist balled up as he did so.

"Oh shit, congratulations Sugu! I'm actually not a great liar so I probably would've told someone about the whole robbing a bank thing." You said, clicking your tongue, "Sorry." He giggled at your words, rolling his eyes. "Oh, I know." He spoke, watching your face beam as you pulled out the beautiful black dress he bought you. "Oh yeah, bought just the thing to wear with that too." He smiled in faux innocence, unballing his fist he dangled a pair of skimpy, black lace panties in front of him.

They weren't just any panties though, you could see on the crotch of those panties that would be pressed against your cunt, a flat teardrop-shaped silicone vibrator adorned the fabric. Your jaw really dropped now as you stared at the piece in disbelief. He wasn't really expecting you to wear remote-controlled panties in the fanciest restaurant in town, right? "Pretty, huh?" His voice filled the room when you didn't react. "You never change, huh?" You sighed, holding your hand out in front of you as he tossed the panties over to where you sat.

A big part of you thought this was a horrible idea, knowing how sensitive you are, but another, less rational part of you couldn't help but get excited at the thought of Suguru having full control of getting you off with a little remote control in his pocket, while the two of you dined in the fanciest atmosphere you had yet to immerse yourself in. "Pervert." You said, looking up at him under your lashes as you stretched the panties between your fingers, admiring how well made they were.

Suguru giggled, walking over to the bed you sat on, his knees bumping into the mattress as he reached out and took the panties away from you. "Hey-" "Need some help putting them on?" He asked, twirling them around on his finger. You scoffed, "Suguru, why would I need help putting on a pair of panties, just-" You tried and failed to snatch them back from his hands as he yanked them out of your reach. "You sure?" He said, continuing to twirl them as he started to back out of the room with a mischievous grin on his face. You threw your hand up in the air in defeat, giving him a 'what the hell' look before he closed the door behind him on the way out.

"How am I supposed to wear them tonight if you just kidnapped them!!" You yelled through the door, hearing his footsteps descend further away from you. With a heavy sigh, you pushed yourself off of your comfortable mattress and began getting ready for the night ahead of you.

Smoothing out your dress in the mirror, you turned your body around and checked out your own ass in the mirror, and lord was it an ass to behold. It's like Suguru had taken your measurements in the middle of the night to make sure this dress absolutely fitted your figure in the most flattering way; honestly, you wouldn't be surprised if he did. You absolutely wouldn't be mad that's for sure. You had done up your hair and face and adorned your feet with the nicest pair of black heels you owned. You looked absolutely perfect to the unknowing eye.. the only thing missing? Your panties. The absence of something hugging you down there made you feel a little vulnerable, but otherwise, you felt perfect.

After a quick one-over to make sure everything was as it should be on your figure, you stepped out of your room, shutting off the lights and closing the door as you left. Your heels clicked on the wooden floor as you made your way into the living room, where Geto had splayed himself out on your shared couch. His big thighs spread wide on the cushions, his arms spread out behind him on the back of the couch. He looked edible; the way his pecs were pressed tightly against his shirt from how he was stretching his arms apart made you want to pounce on him and play with his massive chest; who was the pervert now?

Right when you finished checking the man out, he noticed your presence, tilting his head to the side, his eyes doubled in size, his eyebrows raising to make room for them. He let his head fall back on the couch, a grin spreading across his face as he raked his eyes over your body before his eyes settled on yours, giving you a whistle. "Yeah, I chose the right dress, you look fucking edible." He complimented, licking his bottom lip before he briefly took it into his mouth.

"Wait till you see my ass." You teased, placing your hand on your hip and tipping your head at him. "Oh yeah?" Geto raised an eyebrow challengingly. Tipping his chin down he stood from his spot on the couch, heavy steps walking over to where you stood in the entrance of the living room. He stuck his hand out to you, signaling for you to grab it. "Give me a spin baby," Geto whispered into the quiet room, the tv playing some unimportant show in the background as you placed your hand in his. He lifted your arm, slowly spinning you around, making sure to get a good look at your ass in the dress.

He whisted again, "Oh yeah~ fucking perfect." He said, spinning you back around to face him again as he released your hand and fished for something in his pocket. "Only missing one thing~" He said, raising his eyebrows at you knowingly. "Yeah, gimmie that shit, feels weird with nothing down there." You said, holding your hand out to him. "Nuh-uh," He said, tsking at you. You scrunched your eyebrows at him in annoyance. Though he didn't give you much time to pout as he dropped on one knee, opening up the leg holes of the panties for you to step in as his eyes watched your expression from the floor.

You felt your face heat up, this position was so intimate it flustered you. "H-huh?" was the only thing you could muster. "C'mon, we gotta get going if we wanna make out reservation on time." He cooed, nodding his head at you. "Do I just-" You started, raising your heel-clad foot from the floor as you poked it into the hole of the panties. "Mhm.. and here I thought you said you didn't need any help putting your panties on?" He teased, washing away some of your embarrassment as it was replaced with irritation.

You kept quiet, stepping into the other hole of the panties and letting him slide the material up your body teasingly. He rose from his position on the floor, standing in front of you in his entirety as he kept his eyes on his hands, where he was moving the cloth up your body. The dress was being bunched up to your mid-thigh, and would soon rest on your hips the higher he dragged the panties up. Once he saw your cunt come into view, the panties only centimeters from touching your throbbing clit, he gazed back up into your eyes, watching your reaction closely.

You swallowed whatever saliva was still in your day mouth, keeping your eyes on his. He watched your eyes flutter, your nose sucking in a breath as he pulled the panties up to your hips, the cold silicone being pressed against your cunt and creating a delicious friction between your legs. Smirking, Suguru slid your dress back down your thighs and smoothed it out before placing his hands on the small of your waist and caressing the skin there. You placed your hands on his chest, feeling yourself throb between your legs with the added pressure and the intensity in which he was staring at you.

"How's that feel?" He said, sliding his hands up and down the sides of your body before sliding his hands to your ass and gripping the fat there, simultaneously pressing your body closer to his, his knee sliding between yours and making the dress wrinkle at the bottom. "Feels good." You nod. Geto tilted his head down, looking between your lips and eyes as one of his hands left your waist to dig in his pockets, out of your view. "Yeah?" He said, licking his lips. "Let's just make sure everything is in working order before we go, yeah?" He whispered agaisnt your lips, neither of you daring to close the distance.

The tension was thick in the air when you nodded, the man in front of you mimicking your nod, whispering a quiet yeah. Your breath hitched in your throat, your legs wobbling slightly when you felt the soft vibration tickle against your clit. Geto's jaw dropped as he watched your reaction to the toy buzzing against your sensitive bud. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head before closing completely when he upped the intensity of the vibrations. "It hittin' the right spot?" He asked, leaning in to whisper against your neck when you tipped it back.

"You let him pull your body tighter against his own, his knee pressing against the toy against your cunt, increasing the feeling as you let your jaw drop, moaning quietly into the air as he left soft, barely-there kisses against your throat. "Y-yes, it's on the right spot." You confirmed. Your legs felt like jello at the stimulation combined with how palpable the tension filling the room was. "Vibrating on 'ur little clit?" You knew he knew how much his voice turned you on, and fuck was it turning you on. "Yes," you whimpered breathily, squeezing your thighs around his larger one between your legs.

"Bet it feels so good." He said, biting your neck gently before pulling away to look at your face, expression painted with lust. You just gave him a nod, gasping as you started to rock yourself on his thigh. "Oh~ Horny girll~" He teased, pulling his body back to watch you hump slowly along his toned thigh. Just when you were falling into a rhythm, the buzzing stopped. When you cracked your eyes open to scold him, you were met with a cocky-looking Geto, smiling mischievously at you. You sighed, realizing how the rest of the night was going to go.

"Oh my, look at the time!" He said dramatically, holding the expensive watch Gojo got him for his most recent birthday out in front of him. "There are no batteries in that watch, Suguru." You call him out, deadpanning. "I'm all-knowing, I don't need a watch to tell me we're going to be late if we don't leave now." He said, patting your ass before he pulled away, you instantly missed the pressure his knee brought between your thighs.

The ride to the restaurant was short but dreadful. He had kept his warm hand on your thigh the entire time, rubbing his thumb teasingly against the inside of your leg, slowly rubbing higher and higher, making you think he was going to touch you, but he ultimately pulled away. You kept waiting to feel the vibration against your clit, but it never came. You just throbbed pathetically with no relief in sight during the ten-or-so-minute drive, although your increased arousal made it feel like hours.

He patted his hand on your thigh when he parked the car, turning his head to look at your hot and bothered face, giving you a charming smile before killing the engine and sliding out of his driver's seat, ordering you not to move before he shut the door. Your roommate popped open your door, holding his hand out for you to help you out of the car. "Such a gentleman." You said, half sarcastically. He smirked, closing the door behind you. He felt his heard skip a beat when you laced your arm with his as the two of you made a short stroll towards the establishment.

Even the outside of the building called you poor in twenty different languages. It was lit up beautifully, the tinted windows giving you a little peek at the rich interior of the building. "You nervous?" He asked as the two of you approached the door. "A little, I've never been somewhere so fancy before." You replied honestly. "Yeah? Just stay close to me, all you gotta do is stay on my arm and look pretty." He cooed.

Geto's confidant demeanor made you hot in the face and other places. You felt like a trophy he was showing off to the world, his confidence rubbing off on you as the two of you walked into the establishment. You approached the man in the front, dressed in a full suit, taking reservation names before you were seated. Geto didn't miss the way the blonde young man blushed as he gave you a one-over, admiring your body before clearing his throat and asking Geto for the name on the reservation. You were too busy looking around the establishment to notice the man's glances, but you did feel Geto's arm squeeze tighter around yours.

"R-right this way." He said, bowing his arm in front of him before starting a trail to the semi-secluded table he would bring you to. The lights hanging above the tables were dim and elegant, it felt strangely warm and comfortable, making you relax your shoulders. "I think our host has a little crush on you~" Geto whispered into your ear, making you jolt out of your daze. "H-huh?" You said, looking up at the dark-haired man in confusion. "You really are so oblivious." He said, giggling, "Someone might try to eat you up one day, you should be more aware." His word irritated you for some reason, but then again, everything he did irritated you.

"Asshole, I'm self-aware. Not everyone is a pervert like you." You spat, averting your gaze to the back of the host boy as you continued your pace to the table. "You'd be surprised." Was the last thing Geto said before the host stopped in front of you, raising his arm out to the table, signaling the two of you to sit. "Thank you." You said to the host, your eye contact making the young man blush as he nodded and said a quick, "My pleasure." before leaving.

"Oh, he's so into you." Geto giggled, sliding into the booth. The seating he gave you looked to be the most beautiful in the restaurant. He had sat you in the corner of the room, a beautiful vintage-looking red light hung between the two of you, the window immediately to your left giving you a view of the Holiday-esc decorated street, twinkling with white lights and garland. You ignored his comment, taking in the scenery as you relaxed into the comfortable cushion, almost forgetting about the toy hiding inside your panties.

"It's so beautiful, Suguru." You said. He fully expected you to curse him out for the comment about the host, so when he received this response instead he was quite taken aback. At that moment he felt his heart race in his chest, but simultaneously a feeling of sadness crept over him. He wished he could afford to take you to places like this more often. Maybe if you were with someone like Satoru, you would get to experience this more. "Suguru?" You called out to him, tilting your head at his far away look.

"Sorry," He replied, being snapped out of his stupor, looking back to you. You looked so beautiful under the dim glow of the red-tinted lights, he wanted to lean across the table and take your lips against his. "It is beautiful." He agreed. You still felt like something was off, but his mood didn't seem odd enough to ruin the night, so you let it be for now. "What made you want to take me here?" You asked, glancing through the wine menu in front of you. He smirked at you, "What, you don't like it? I thought it was beautiful." He teased.

You kicked his shin gently under the table. "Don't be dumb, of course I like it. I've just never been to a place with a set menu before.. and I don't think you have either." You smiled at him. "I've been to a place like this with Satoru before, just once, It seemed like somewhere you deserve to be taken." He answered honestly, grabbing the wine menu to look at himself when you slid it across the wite tablecloth. His words made you blush, you silently thanked the owner of the restaurant for choosing the red lights, it was saving you the embarrassment of Geto pointing out your flushed face.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but you know I love this just as much as when you take me to get McDonald's you know." You giggled. You were sure if anyone around you had heard the comparison of this establishment to a place light McDonalds, their heads might screw off in astonishment. Your words eased the self consciousness in his chest, only you would say something like that. "Plus, I might start acting spoiled if I don't be careful about coming to places like this." You giggled, making him smile.

"What if I want you to be spoiled?" He responded, his tone making you squeeze your thighs together under the table. "You spoil me enough, Suguru." You respond, your sultry voice uttering his name made his pants feel tight. The mood was quickly shifting from romantic to a more lust-filled one. "Yeah?" He responded, slipping his hand into his pant pocket to find the remote connected to the panties, just rubbing his thumb around the button. You nodded, poking his shin with the tip of your heel under the table, your flirty ministrations being hidden by the long white tablecloth.

"How so?" He asked, tilting his head as he pressed the on button of the vibrator, sending a dull vibration against your clit. He watched your eyes flutter at the stimulation, humming out a "hmm?" when he did so. "You're spoiling me r-right now. Always thinking of ways to make me f-feel good." You replied, taking deep breaths to ensure a whine wouldn't slip out. "Am I?" He replied, leaning back against the booth, upping the vibration with the remote in his pants as he watched you jerk forward.

"Suguru-" You wined quietly, biting your lip as you squeezed your thighs together. "Feel good when you cross your legs, baby?" He whispered, leaning his forearms on the table as he tried to look at your expression from your head tipped forward, eyes shut at the intensity. You didn't know how he knew you were crossing your legs, but you nodded in response anyway. "The waiter is coming baby, pull yourself together." He whispered before sitting back, averting his gaze from you as he watched a new man approach your table. You grit your teeth in irritation, if he really wanted you to 'pull yourself together' he would stop the toy.

You swallowed hard, trying to take steady deep breaths into your lungs, smiling at the nice-looking waiter as he approached the table. "What do you want to drink, honey~" He cooed, egging you on by using the ridiculous pet name. The moment you opened your mouth to speak, he upped the vibration twice, making your body jerk forward. Of course, the waiter just had to ask if you were alright. "Yeah, you alright?" Geto chimed in, hiding his smile with faux concern on his face. You waved your hands in front of yourself, "Hiccups." You said, trying to muster up a smile as you glared at the dark-haired man across the table from you.

"Ill order, we'll take the-" Geto's voice faded out as he interacted with the waitor as you bit your tongue, your stomach clenching at each vibration, feeling yourself drip into the panties. You placed your elbow on the table when the man walked away, squeezing your eyes shut you covered your mouth, moans occasionally being muffled against your hand. "Fuck, that was so hot." Geto laughed, feeling himself twitch in his pants. You looked up at him once you cracked your eyes open again, eyebrows scrunched together in pleasure as your thighs squeezed tightly against one another.

"I'll give you a break." He said, reaching into his pocket he switched off the remote, making your muscles unclench as your hand fell from your mouth, gasping as quietly as you could into the air. Geto pulled the tablecloth over his lap so he could grope himself over his pants without anyone seeing him act so indecently. You had no smart remarks left in your brain, you weren't sure if Geto knew how close you had just been to cumming in front of the waitor, but with how breathless he looked you thought he might've had some idea.

You were the one with a toy pressed against your most sensitive spot right now, but just from seeing your reactions alone, Geto was feeling all hot and bothered. Every time you inhaled sharply or your body jerked, he felt his cock leak into his boxers. "Is this okay?" He asked, continuing to rub his cock slowly, giving himself some sort of relief. You nodded, your expression very obviously coated in lust.

"Good, this shit is making me so hard you know that?" He confessed, looking into your eyes. You forced a smile through the arousal, "Maybe next time, you should be the one with a vibrator on your cock." You teased, making him laugh through a groan. "Yeah, might have to let me borrow those panties when you're done here." You clenched your thighs together at the thought of a big strong Suguru with dainty panties pressed against his hard cock, undoubtedly most of his length would be poking out through the top of the panties, and that just fueled your arousal even more.

"Suguru." You wined, covering your mouth once more, he tilted his head at you, feeling you run your leg up his shin, teasing higher and higher as you stroked your heel-clad foot on his thigh, making him hiss in a breath, abandoning the hand on his cock and placing it on the cushion next to him. "Turn it on." You said from behind your hand, looking into his eyes with half-lidded ones. The way you were getting so into this made his face feel hot, his cock twitching under his pants when he felt the tip of your heel press softly against his balls.

He listened to your instruction, switching the vibration on once more, you sucked in a breath, continuing to rub your foot against his crotch. "So naughty." He giggled through his arousal, watching you swallow hard at how good the vibration felt. "Your wine," A voice came out of nowhere, catching the two of you off guard as the waitor seemed to appear out of thin air, filling your glass with the red liquid before repeating the same to Geto. Your heart was racing out of your chest, quickly you snapped out of whatever horny trance you had been in, retracting your foot from Geto's crotch you crossed your legs once more.

Geto smiled at you as you watched the waitor pour the wine, feeling the throbbing in his pants intensify with the loss of your foot on his cock. "Came to your senses?" Geto giggled, switching off the vibrator so you could relax once more. You blushed, embarrassed about how shameless you had just been. You had almost completely forgotten you were in public. "You make me lose them." You said, the vein on your forehead popping out at his audacity. He laughed, reaching over the table to take your hand in his, stroking his thumb over the back of your hand.

You welcomed the feeling, feeling your irritation wash away. "Sorry, truly, didn't mean to embarrass you, sweetheart." He said, smiling more authentically at your face, still screwed in annoyance. You sighed, his charm melting away your annoyance, "It's fine, dude came outta fuckin' nowhere." You complained, pouting. Geto laughed, "I didn't notice him either, sneaky bastard." His shared animosity made you laugh, easing your nerves as the two of you fell into a comfortable conversation.

The rest of the dinner had gone smoothly, the two of you almost completely forgetting about the vibrating panties as you immersed yourself in the conversation, that was until the desert was brought out. Vanilla ice cream and some fancy-looking dessert next to it, looking too pretty to eat. The both of you thanked the waiter, plastering smiles on your faces until he walked out of view. "Suguru I cant do it." "Fuck I'm so glad you said something, I need to take my belt off before I explode.. and it's not for the reason it normally is when I'm with you." He said seriously, making you laugh.

"This place is so expensive though, I feel bad just leaving this here untouched." You said, raking your eyes over the dessert. "Don't force yourself." He said, rubbing his hand over his bloated tummy. There had been 5 courses, they weren't relatively big alone, but after eating so many little dishes you were feeling like you were at your limit. They had all brought flavors you had never tasted before and never thought you would taste, so you couldn't help but think the same would be true about this desert, you didn't want to miss out.

"If you feed me I think I can do it." You teased, sticking your tongue out for the man in front of you. "Fuck." He laughed, feeling his now semi-hard cock twitch to life in his pants. "Might need to take my belt off for that other reason soon." Geto huffed out a laugh, making you giggle with your tongue out as he scooped some of the vanilla ice cream onto the spoon. "Ahhh~" He said, making you repeat the noise as he placed the spoon in your mouth and focused on your plush-looking lips that wrapped around the spoon and licked the cold cream off the spoon.

He pulled it back, sliding the spoon upwards to make sure you swallowed up everything. When he pulled it away, he noticed some of the white liquid smear against your bottom lip, his cock twitched with interest at how similar it looked to another white substance he frequently saw on your lips. Wordlessly he reached across the table and wiped his thumb against your lip, collecting the white liquid and bringing it back to his own mouth, licking it off.

You felt your heart speed up, a pulse could be felt between your legs as you watched him take his own thumb into his mouth and suck sensually, all while keeping his eyes locked onto yours, before popping it out of his mouth. "Sweet." He said. You felt your lip quiver, taking in a shaky breath you whispered. "Get the check." The man stood without another word, opening his wallet, he slapped a couple twenties onto the white cloth before tucking it back into his pants and grabbing your hand, dragging you out of the booth. "Pre-paid." He said, holding the small of your waist as he led the two of you to the entrance of the restaurant.

You looked down at Geto's slacks as the two of you made quick work to exit. The bulge in his pants was very evident to anyone with a pair of working eyes, glancing up at his face he seemed like he couldn't care less as he kept his sights on the trail in front of him. The two of you walked right past the young blonde man who had led you to your table. The man's face turned a deep shade of crimson when Geto grabbed a handful of your ass and looked back to wink at the boy, undoubtably his own pants had tented at the shameless display of Geto's claim on you.

The cold air felt relieving once the two of you made it outside, easing the burning heat your cheeks were experiencing. "I wanted to treat you like a lady tonight but you make me lose control when I'm around you, know that?" He confessed, keeping his eyes glued in front of him as his car came into view. "Were the vibrating panties part of you treating me like a lady?" You teased, looking up at him. "Maybe not, saw them in the window of some sex shop on the way home last night." He said, finally reaching the car. He gave your ass one last squeeze before he opened the door for you and helped you inside.

"Cant help it, just wanna slut you out every chance I get." He said, winking at you before he shut the door softly, leaving you flustered as you crossed your hands in your lap, waiting for him to enter the car. You gasped when you felt the vibration start up suddenly, moments later Geto's door popped open and he slid inside, keeping the car off as he shut the door behind him. Leaning into your face, he placed his hand on the side of your soft cheek, "Cmere baby." He whispered before he connected your lips together.

You moaned against his lips, his other hand coming to rub against your clothed cunt, pressing the vibrator harder against you. He was panting into the kiss, the exchange was filled with teeth and tongue as he devoured you with his lips. Your hands came up to wrap around his wrist that held your face, making him hum against your lips. Your moans into the kiss increased in volume as he frantically rubbed back and forth against the vibrator, simultaneously making the silicone rub your clit, creating a heavenly feeling.

"Want you to cum right here in my car before we leave, need to see you cum." Geto panted against your lips, making you wine. He was throbbing in his pants, there was nothing he needed more in this moment than to see you fall apart on his fingers and the vibrator he got you, wearing the dress he bought you. You moaned into the kiss, tangling your tongue with his as you felt your orgasm creep up on you alarmingly fast. You dug your nails into his wrist, arching your back your legs spread themselves apart instinctually as you teetered on the edge of your orgasm.

"Sug-uru- Sugu-" You moaned his name breathlessly against his lips, he knew you were about to cum. He kept the same pace and pressure against you as your hips started bucking into his hand to get yourself there. "Take it baby- take it cmon-" He whispered against your lips. He moved his kisses to the side of your mouth and cheek when you became unable to kiss him back, your jaw going slack as the dam broke and you came hard against the vibrator.

His hand gripped your thigh hard, his nails digging into the fat as he moaned with you as you came. He felt lightheaded watching your body jerk and spasm in his hold. "Yeah, that's my girl~ good fucking girl~" He praised, continuing to rub your clit as he worked you through the last shocks of your orgasm. Once you came down from your high and your brain started functioning regularly again, you registered his words in your head. 'my girl' the words echoed over and over in your head.

Surely those words were only uttered from the heat of the moment, but it sure as hell sounded nice rolling off his tongue. You pushed his hand away in overstimulation as the vibration continued, making you twitch against the car seats. "Sorry baby, I got you." He whispered, pulling away from your face he reached into his pocket and switched the vibrator off. "I feel better now." He said, making you come to your senses as you giggled. "You?" You said incredulously. "It makes me feel good to make you cum, you should know that by now." He said honestly.

You believed his words wholeheartedly. His cock was still rock hard and twitching in his pants but he did look more relieved than he did when he first pulled you into the car. His breath had evened out too. "Want me to suck you off while you drive us home?" You asked, glancing between his hard-on poking through his pants and his handsome face. He laughed, "Such a vulgar mouth you have, roomie." He teased, grabbing your face he squshed your cheeks together, shaking your head back and forth. "I plan to fuck you nice and good when we get home if that sounds okay with you, so I can wait."

You nodded frantically, he didn't have to look over at you to know your answer, your head shaking his arm with the intensity with which you nodded. "You're so sweet, yknow that?" He said, his words catching you off guard. "Why are you bein' so sappy? Got a crush on me?" You joked, not expecting the silence that followed as he released your face as started the car, signaling before he pulled out into the dark street, heading for your shared apartment.

You looked over to Geto's face and noticed a light blush dusting his cheeks every time he drove under a streetlight, illuminating his features. You suddenly felt very self-conscious, your own cheeks heating up the longer he took to respond. "Oh." You said, turning your body to face the street as you gazed out through the window. "I'm not asking you to like me back sweet cheeks, just keep hanging out with me and I'll survive." He said.

Your heart was racing, you felt dizzy and slightly nauseous. It made sense that he liked you, the two of you had been living together for years, you spent more time with him more than anyone else you knew, and you had been hooking up for a couple of months now, it made sense that he had feelings for you. It's not like his feelings weren't reciprocated, you started noticing your heart pick up around him a couple months ago, right after the two of you started hooking up.

You had chalked it up to being arousal or lust, noticing how the strange feeling became stronger when he touched you or spoke to you. You realized quickly that this was not just lust, you were in fact very in love with your roommate. He did look like he had been chiseled by the gods themselves, and he had a lovely (for the most part) personality to match, he was funny, he cared about your well-being, he took care of you when you were sick, cuddled with you, gave you the dick of your life- he was everything you could've ever wanted and more.

"Can you say something though, you're making me feel embarrassed." His voice broke through the deafening silence, breaking you out of your stupor. You didn't realize the two of you had already been driving for so long, your apartment coming into view as he pulled into the parking spot in front of your building. Say something, say something, this is your chance, say something idiot just- Geto was internally panicking, he regretted leaving his answer so ambiguous, he should've just said "Of course not~" When you asked if he liked you, fuck he was such an idiot, he just ruined your relationship he was sure of it.

Surely you wouldn't feel comfortable living in the same house with someone who was in love with you, of course, that would be uncomfortable, fuck. Was it too late to say he was joking? Shit. Maybe you would move out, god- he felt sick, he wanted to get out of the car and run away, excape this awkward atmosphere, and just-

Your lips were on his, you were kissing him, you had your hands on his thighs and you were kissing him. "Sorry." You pulled away. "I- I'm not good with this kinda stuff but I had to do something." He registered your voice speak to him. "I uh- I like you too." You blushed, looking at the scenery outside the car, counting the tiles on your building, anything to avoid his eyes. "I almost jumped out of the window, never do that shit again." He said, sighing the heaviest sigh one man has ever sighed.

You burst out into laughter, "Sorry, wasn't exactly expecting you to confess your love when I was harmlessly teasing you~" You said, squinting your eyes at him. He swallowed hard, your hands on his thighs suddenly burning with an indescribable heat against his skin. "Can I take you inside and fuck you now? Think I might die If I don't get inside you soon." he whispered into the silent car.

Your back slammed into the door of your apartment, muffled moans and breaths mingling between the two of you as Geto wrappped a large arm around your waist to keep you pressed against his body, his other digging in his pocket to fish out the key and get the two of you inside. "Geto-" You moaned against his lips, "Hurry." You don't think you've ever felt this hot and bothered in your life. You frantically unbuttoned his shirt, his bare chest being exposed to the open air as you made quick work of his belt while he blindly inserted the key into the door and twisted it open.

The two of you almost crashed to the ground when the door opened behind you, stumbling inside Geto slammed the door shut and locked it behind you, working his hands on the back of your dress he uncliped the hook at the top and slid the garment in one swipe off of your body, leaving you clad in just the panties. "No bra?" He breathed against your lips, feeling his hand come into contact with nothing but your skin when he instinctively went to unclasp your bra. "Thought we might end up like this~" You whispered agaisnt his lips, yanking his belt through the loops of his pants and throwing it somewhere in the room.

He lifted you from under your thighs, kissing and biting your neck frantically as he walked you to the familiar path to his room. You pressed the back of his neck agaisnt you, tangling your hands in his long hair while he kicked open his door and took long strides to the bed, throwing you down on it, making you bounce against his mattress. Geto breathed heavily, unbuttoning his pants with one hand he crawled onto the bed, slotting himself between your thighs and welcoming yours that wrapped around his as he slid his pants off in the process, leaving the both of you only clad in your undergarments.

He placed one hand on your neck and pressed you into the bed, his lips chasing yours as he kissed you needily. You made a sound of discomfort against his lips, feeling something rough on your lower back. You pulled away from the kiss briefly to reach under your back and move whatever was irritating your skin. You didn't expect to pull out a pair of your panties, stiffer than you remember them being, from behind your back, more importantly, you didn't expect to see them in Geto's bed.

"Geto I am right here," you said, deadpanning, holding the cum soaked panties to the side of you. He smiled, taking the panties from your hand he tucked them under his pillow, "You wouldn't get it~" He said, tipping your head to the side he dropped his head to your neck, moving his hand out of the way a bit so he could leave hickeys on your skin. You gasped, "N-no I don't, why keep stealing my p-panties and cumming on them when you can walk ten feet down the hall and fuck me?" You asked, your breath picking up when he kissed a particularly sensitive spot on your neck.

"It's the thrill." He says, biting your neck before soothing over the same spot with his tongue, easing the sting. "Sneaking around and stealing your panties-" kiss "when you have no idea," kiss "Gets me off so hard." He explains. "You're s-such a pervert." You whine, and yet feel yourself clench around nothing at his words. "That shit too." He says, gripping your naked tighter in his hold. "Love when you tell me how nasty I am, keep doing it." He instructs, moving his lips down to take your nipple into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue.

"Fuck- Suguru-" You moan, bucking your hips up into his, simultaneously wrapping your legs around him tighter. "Tell me, baby, tell me how dirty I am." He speaks, the words coming out muffled around your nipple, the vibration of his words tingling through your hardened bud and making you drip between your thighs. "Y-you're such a filthy pervert S-suguru." You say, immediately getting a loud groan of approval from him, his hips humping into your own, the bulge in his pants being rubbed just right against your clit.

"Yeah?" He moans, releasing your nipple with a lewd pop as he switches to the other one, sucking it into his mouth and flicking his tongue over it, feeling it harden in his mouth. "Yeah, baby- s-so nasty stealin' my panties and makin' a m-mess all over them." He groans, his hips pressing themselves harder into your panty-clad pussy. "Bet you pretend 'ur fucking my cunt huh-?" You tease, feeling his hand slide down between your legs and move the panties to the side of your pussy so he could rub his boxer-covered dick between your naked folds.

He moans out a, "mhm-" against your nipple, pulling down his boxers just enough to free his dick as he rubs his length between your folds, his wet tip bumping into your clit as he does so. "Do you w-wrap the around y-our cock o-or-" You were cut off by his fat tip pressing against the entrance of your pussy, not pushing in, just keeping pressure against the twitching hole as he nibbled on your nipple, giving it one last suck before pulling away.

"Sometimes I'll lick the part where your pussy goes 'n taste you," He starts, peppering kisses across the expanse of your chest. "Fuck.." You moan, feeling your face grow hot at his words. "Sometimes I'll hold them up to my nose 'n smell you, use 'em to jerk off-" You pressed your hand over his mouth, breathing heavily at his shameless explanation. "You really are disgusting." You said, feeling yourself clench around nothing.

Suguru released a shaky breath, feeling a tingle shoot up his spine at your mean words before he thrust his cock into your pussy in one thrust, groaning at how tight you felt around him, the sound coming out muffled from your hand pressed against his mouth. "Ohmygod-" You whined, your hand dropping from his lips and falling against the sheets to your side as you gripped the cloth between your fingers tightly.

Suguru leaned back, pulling your thighs over his larger ones and sitting on his calves, he immediately started up a brutal pace inside you, fucking his cock into you as he used one hand to hold your panties to the side, getting a perfect view of your cunt swallowing up his dick. "Your pussy is eating up my dick like it's the tastiest thing in the world~" Geto cooed, bringing the pad of his thumb to rub circles agaisnt your little clit, poking out argrilly from under the hood.

"Fuck- S-Suguru!" You moaned, thrashing your head from side to side against his pillows. "God I love how dumb you get from my dick baby~ You like it this much? Huh?" He asked, emphasizing his words with rough thrusts as he picked up his ministrations on your clit. "Yes, baby- Fuck- Fuck I love it-" You babbled, forcing yourself to peel your eyes open to watch him fuck you properly. "Yeah you do- Fuck, you're so fucking tight-" He groaned, shutting his eyes and tipping his head back as he fucked his cock into you mercilessly, drilling his fat tip straight into your g-spot.

"Can feel myself leakin' all inside your cunt-" He drops his chin to watch your sloppy cunt drip your arousal around him, "She's fuckin' milking me-" He laughs through a groan. Geto was normally talkative in bed, but he seemed to be even more aroused, you guessed it had something to do with the confession that happened earlier in the car. "Suguru- you're splitting me open-" You moan, bringing one of your hands to press down on your lower tummy, feeling his cock beat your walls from the inside of you.

He giggled, bringing one of his hands to press down over yours, making you feel it even more. "Yeah? You feel me deep in there baby? I'm all up in 'ur fuckin' guts." He laughed, pistoning his hips into yours. Your face was all screwed up in pleasure, your hips wiggling against his as you felt your orgasm build up quickly inside you. "Fuck- yes- Suguru Im gonna cum- t-think I-m gonna squirt-" You say, noticing how the ball in your stomach felt a little different than normal.

Suguru had made you squirt before, and you never got used to it. It felt so intense, and on top of that, it was so fucking embarrassing. Suguru didn't seem to think so, it always made him so fucking dizzy when he made you squirt. "Yeah? Gonna squirt for me when I cum inside you?" He cooed, his thrusts starting to lose their rhythm as he felt his balls tighten with his impending orgasm. "Yes, Sugu please- please cum inside me- mark me as y-yours-" You wined, looking into his deep eyes as you spoke.

"Fuckkk, wanna be mine?" He groaned, biting his lip as he felt his cock twitch with his orgasm approaching alarmingly fast. "Yes- make me yours!" You cried, throwing your head back as the first wave of your orgasm crashed over you. Your cunt constricted around Geto's massive cock, your squirt spraying onto his abdomen, wetting his skin and boxers he had pulled down to pull his cock out. "Ohfuck-" He moaned gritting his teeth. "Give it to me- milk this fucking c-cock-" He moaned, his jaw falling open as he felt his cum travel up his cock.

You continued to convulse on his cock as he fucked you through your orgasm and into his own. "Gonna make you mine gonna- f-fuckfuck-" He cut himself off, pressing down hard on your stomach as his hips stilled against you feeling the first rope of his cum spill inside your cunt. His eyes rolled back in his head, bringing his hips back, he fucked each and every rope of his hot cum as deep as he could into your cunt, pressing his balls flush against your ass as he spilled the last of his seed into you.

You bit your lip, trying to stay sane as he twitched through the last bit of his high, overstimulating you when his cock moved a little too much inside you. "Godddd-" He groaned, pulling his cock out as the both of you hissed in oversensitivity. His cum immediately follows his cock and drips out of your hole, spilling down the crack of your ass. "So pretty, you did so fucking good for me baby." He praised, pulling your pussy lips apart to watch his cum slide out of you.

"My," huff "eyes are up here." you breathed out with a smirk, making him huff out a laugh. "Feelin' jealous?" He teased, tucking his soaked cock back into his boxers before he leaned his massive frame over you, embracing the feeling of your legs wrapping around his waist as he cradles your face in his hands, looking between your plush lips and eyes before pressing his mouth to yours softly and pulling back. "You feelin' okay? I went kinda hard." He smiled apologetically.

Your own hands came up to hold his sweats face, brushing his bangs out of his face. "I'm a little sore, but I think I'll survive." You said, before looking away and pondering, bringing your eyes back to his after a brief intermission with yourself. "Unless you'll baby me more if I say no, in which case, no, I'm feeling absolutely wrecked." your dramatics made him laugh. You took the opportunity to place kisses all over the expanse of his face as he laughed wholeheartedly.

Once his giggles died down a more serious look took over his features. "I didn't just say all that shit in the heat of the moment by the way." Geto spoke, rubbing your cheeks, "About makin' you mine." He elaborated. "Good." You answered, leaning your head up to press your lips together again. "Wanna be my girlfriend?" He asked properly. You pushed him off of you, switching your positions as you crawled on top of him, his hands finding their way to your tits as he massaged them in his hands.

"Depends how well you fuck me during round two~" You tease, wiggling your hips down against his semi-hard cock, steadily growing under the heat of your cunt. "Sounds like you might be my wife in about ten minutes." He challenges, making you burst into a fit of giggles as he sat up and wrapped his arms around you in a bear hug, attacking your shoulders with kisses.

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lokisgoodgirl · 1 month

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Teenage Dream [Loki x Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: A trip to Asgard means a visit to Loki's childhood bedroom - and his teenage fantasy. (w/c 1.9k) Warnings: 18+ only. Loki x Female Reader. Established relationship. Smut. Body fluids etc etc. Language.

“This is your childhood bedroom?!” Loki’s arms spread wider, turning in a lazy circle as you gape at the high ceilings and golden cornicing. Open archways lead to a balcony which runs along the full side of one wall, Asgard sprawling below in afternoon sunlight. It’s huge.

“What did you expect?” Loki shoots a lovingly indignant look over his shoulder. “Some kind of hovel-sized quarter the kind of which Stark has bestowed on Lang?”

His boots thud in quick succession on polished marble before he jumps through the air and lands on the modest queen-size with a bounce – a hand balled at his temple. The sheets have clearly been replaced since he last laid in it, but old habits die hard. The green and gold of his colours is in full effect in this room from the curtains to the tapestries and the quilt draped across the mattress. “Lie with me,” he says, looking up through his lashes. “Please?”

Something about seeing Loki dressed in his, what he still calls, ‘Midgard garms’ suddenly seems ridiculous in one of Asgard’s royal bedchambers. A pair of tight black jeans cling to his muscles, denim shifting as he draws one knee over the other to rest on the bed. His forest green t-shirt has ridden up at his lower stomach, a victim of the obscene measurements of his stretching body. He chuckles lightly, making a thick line of his obliques tighten as he slips his fingers further into mussed hair. "I told you I was a prince," he says sheepishly.

You make your way to the bed and he flips to his back, releasing a happy groan as you straddle him. His eyelids droop, a flash of his upper teeth as he bites his bottom lip. "Frigga will be expecting us," you say as you roll your hips against his crotch. "Uhhh...gods-" he grunts, large palms rubbing up your thighs tight on either side of his chest. ‘Frigga can wait. I said I would give you a tour, and give you a tour...I shall.’ "Not from down there you won’t."

You yelp as Loki sits up and his lips fasten to yours, hand cradling the back of your head and forcing you in a violent kiss. He bites your bottom lip, sucking out gently. You moan softly as his hands begin to rub your thighs again. He’s needy. The sentimentality of bringing you Asgard for the first time is doing a real number on him. Your fingers run down his neck, down the hard dips and ridges of his abdomen through the t-shirt.

“I used to pleasure myself in this bed, dreaming of a woman like you-” he says huskily, beginning to thrust upwards. The painfully tight erection bursting against denim rubs against your gusset, toying back and forth. You feel a swell of arousal web between your folds as your eyes dart towards the open door. Just a crack, but it’s enough. The guards are never far in the palace it seems, even for a Prince who’s all grown up.

“Say more,” you tease. It’s a whisper, but it seems to echo. Loki chuckles quietly into the curve of your neck before he tips you easily to the side. You meet the mattress with a bounce, your head disappearing between the crevice of two plush pillows. Loki’s long form rises above you, impossibly rectangular, spread on his knees, the denim screaming around his crotch.

“It may come as a surprise to you that I was an awkward young man,” he starts, riding up the hem of his t-shirt. His leather belt sits maddeningly at the dent of his hips, perfect alabaster skin of his stomach flashing into view. “No!? I would never have guessed...” you joke, surprised at your ability to think straight as Loki’s shirt pops over his head. He throws it away, skittering gently across the marble floor. His eyes flash mischievously.

“But I had urges, of course; fucked myself night after night like a demon; elaborate fantasies formed in my head with excruciating detail.” He falls forward against the pillows, the bulge of his shoulders tensing as he cages you.

“I wouldn’t let myself cum until every detail in my head was perfect,” he breathes, letting long tendrils of hair drag against your throat in time with the filth of his dulcet syllables. “Again and again. It was enough to drive a young man to madness.”

“Did you ever have-?” you start, cut off by a pathetic moan as Loki drags his bound cock against your clit. “Never," he whispers. "This bed is as virginal as myself when I left it.”

The warm glow of his magic pulses from his skin. Loki’s jeans are gone, replaced by a green silk robe open at the waist. It's Asgardian craftsmanship, that much is obvious. Gold weaving edges the hem, its age betrayed only by the sleeves which are a little too short. The sage shimmer melts into the wave of his hair, and for a second you can’t bring yourself to believe there wasn’t a line forming outside his bedroom every night after he came of age.

He rests back on his haunches between your legs, flipping out the robe at the nip of his taut waist. Loki’s eyes smoulder, waiting for you to ask.

“Which one do you want?” you say. It times perfectly with a twitch of his proud cock as he draws a finger back and forth along its length. His chin dips and a small smile creeps at the corner of his lips.

Loki raises a hand, a theatrical snap of his fingers making the ceiling height door to the chamber swing closed with an almighty clang. Even under normal circumstances, doors don’t close quietly in the palace; it is by design.

“My goddess riding me,” he says, raising his gaze to yours. “Then once I’ve filled her, she crawls to my face; smothers me with her perfect, dripping sex; calls my name so loudly in ecstasy that my brother hears it all the way in the taverns.”

Your brows raise. “That’s quite specific.”

Loki shrugs. “I told you. It needed to be perfect. I spent a lot of time thinking about it.” You shuffle up on the pillows, curling one side of his silk robe in a fist and pulling his mouth to yours. He manoeuvres around, lying back against the pillows with bright eyes while you crawl on top of him once more.

“Are you my sweet virginal Prince?” you ask, batting your lashes. Loki snickers. "If you like." “I do.” “Aright then,” he sniffs. “Although I should warn you, for a virgin – I am rather an expert.” “Shhh-” You press a finger to his lips. "I read a lot of books," he explains with overly-earnest eyes, muffled against your finger. “Let’s get you some practice, then..” you whisper, rolling your hips up the length of his cock. Loki whimpers, brows slanting. You can't tell if that part is for show. With a slip of his hand against your ass you feel your dress dissolve, the nip of a breeze through the open arches making your nipples stiffen. Loki’s head leaves the pillow and catches one in his mouth as your hand guides his cock between your legs. You rub the tip against your slit, slipping back and forth as guttural groans roll in his throat.

"My virgin Prince," you coo.

Loki’s head falls back to the pillow, a warning brow rising. But his eyes sparkle. Slowly, you sink down onto his cock; each hard inch of muscle tugging against your walls as you settle to the hilt.

“Every time you do that,” Loki rasps, “it’s everything I ever dreamt of in this bed, I swear.” You flatten a curl of hair back from his forehead, rocking your hips back and forth. His hands slide up your waist, cupping your breasts as he pants beneath you. A vein in his neck throbs as he grits his teeth to the ceiling. He won’t last, not today. And that’s just fine.

You press his shoulders down, limiting his thrusts. If he wanted to, he could overthrow the touch in an instant. But he wont, not today; not in this bed. Every time you reach the tip of his cock you squeeze and his lips part; every time you sink him deep into your cunt they press together, like he doesn’t trust himself not to howl. The squelching is louder now. The moaning, too. You and Loki have fucked many times, in many places – in every conceivable position, each time you think you could never be more aroused, he proves you wrong. But something’s different about him here. When his beautiful eyes open, the dark fan of his lashes seem to pop against the vibrant blue ringing blown pupils.

Loki’s fingers sink deep into the plump of your ass. He pulls in time with your rhythm, drawing the flat of his feet up. In seconds, he sits up to meet your mouth; his tongue lapping against yours with quiet desperation. Your fingers run down his abdomen and you feel his stomach clench.

“Fill me, baby-” you whine into his open mouth, “show me what Asgard’s finest cock can give me.” Loki grunts in pleasured anguish, thrusting in erratic shudders as he erupts inside your heat. The angle is tight. Fresh seed creams at the seal of your slit and wells around the rim of his half-sheathed cock as he comes undone with a ragged exhale of your name. He captures you in a messy kiss, falling away from your mouth to your chest before collapsing back to the pillows. He squints with one eye, a lazy hand beckoning. “You sure?” There’s an unusual shyness in your voice. Loki nods with a wolfish, lopsided grin; drunk on sex. You shuffle up his abdomen, feeling a thick roll of hot cum settling against your inner thigh. Your fingers curl around the wooden headboard, Loki’s large palms settling on your ass and keeping you high. His head tilts, warm tongue tracing your inner thigh and sucking his seed from your skin. A violent shiver of desire rolls down your spine, making you thrust towards his face.

“I’ll try my best-” he purrs in character from between your legs.

His eyes are all you can see as his tongue outstretches. They disappear as he dips further back, running his warmth between your folds. He tilts his chin up, a white pool collected on his tongue. Loki of Asgard looks up from bottomless eyes, the planes of his cheekbones sharpened. You shoot down and jam your tongue into his open mouth. His cum swirls within the kiss, mingling with the earthy taste of your own pussy – swallows and moans and filth sliding down your throats. Loki gasps loudly as your kiss breaks with a slurp. “Was that in your fantasy?” you ask innocently, resuming your position above his head. “I regret now, that even in the depths of my teenage depravity, it was not,” Loki growled, squeezing your ass-cheeks. He nudges you closer. “Now, finish me,” he orders as he pushes you down against his face. The flat of Loki’s tongue meets your plump clit. Each flush and fat stripe of the muscle has no pretence – he intends to make you climax; and climax hard. Your nails dig into the headboard, scratching down pristine oak lined with gold. Images of Loki as a virginal youth rear in your mind, thrashing in these sheets, under this very ceiling, twisting and unravelling beneath the beat of his fist. Your thighs begin to tremble, held steady by his fingertips sinking deep into the curve of your ass. Loki’s tongue is relentless; it swirls and captures every flush of sparking orgasm and tends it with the next lap of his attentions. Before long, your legs tense – and somehow, one of your hands has tangled in his hairline, pushing him deeper, his nose slotted perfectly at the lip of your mound. The sight is all it takes. “Loki-” you choke, punctuated by a final devastatingly soft lick of his flat tongue over your sex. “Mmrph…” he grunts, brow furrowing. You hold your breath as climax shatters you, the exhale a strangled sob of his name that sings around the ceilings and tumbles out the archways.

You collapse on his chest, the two of you panting heavily. A thin sheen of fresh sweat clings to his skin. You trace the angle of his jaw, smiling as a dream-like peace descends on his features. “Do you think Thor heard?” “From Midgard? I doubt it,” Loki sighs, letting one of his legs fall open to the side. He’s hard again. “But I can let that part of the fantasy slide. Everything else was...perfection, my love.” You prop a fist beneath your chin. “Maybe we just need to try harder.”

“Fuck harder, you mean?” Loki says, a smirk curling the corners of his lips. “You did promise me a palace tour…” you say, drawing your knuckles up the velvet skin of his cock stretching against his stomach. Loki’s smirk grows wider.

Tags (continued in comments)

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#loki x reader #loki smut #loki laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki x reader smut #loki x female reader #loki marvel #loki x you #loki odinson #loki odison x reader #lokismut #loki x you smut #loki imagine

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rafeysdoll · 1 month

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Idk if you have seen that one text ss where the guy is like "take a nap" and then a few hours later he goes "I said a nap not a fucking coma" feel like that would be sooooo rafe x reader, like reader just falls asleep anywhere and everywhere and rafe is just like "girl.....😐"

thought of two instances of this! thank u for requesting, i hope u enjoy!

“hey, hey,” rafe shakes your arm, sighing. “mm.. r-rafe?” you mumble, your vision a bit blurry as you wake up, yawning. “w-what you doing here?” you question in a little groggy voice, getting shy as you can see him a little clearer. he was just so handsome. “the fuck you mean? you didn’t answer my texts all fuckin’ day. got worried.” he confesses, his eyebrows scrunched together.

“oh.. yea,” you giggle softly. “was jus’ getting my beauty sleep, papi.”

“b-beauty sleep? you serious? it’s 1:30 in the afternoon.” he scolds in a condescending tone. “papiii,” you whine, hiding your face in your pillow. “you’re judging me. can feel it.”

you hear him sigh, rolling his eyes. “not judging, ma. jus’.. curious how someone can sleep that long.” “well.. it’s because it gets tiring being the worlds best girlfriend, lotta weight on my back,” you giggle at your own joke. “mm, yeah. give you that one.” he chuckles before kissing your forehead. “cmon, missed you. we’re going out, yea?”

୨୧ second instance

“hey, where your girl go man?” topper asked as rafe adjusted his hat backwards. he usually never let you out of eyesight. “uh, what?” he asks before looking around, seeing that you were no longer by the clothing rack that held a variety of cropped, revealing tops that quickly made rafe imagine having to tell you not to wear those when he wasn’t around when he first saw you snooping there. “the fuck?” he quietly whispers to himself, scanning the store.

after a few minutes of looking around and even calling your cellphone— he approached one of the workers, already working himself up. “hello, ma’am, uh.. wanted to ask if you’ve seen a girl wearing a pink dress? has little flowers on it? was wearing those uh tall sandals or whatever you call em,”

“oh, you mean platform sandals?” she giggles softly, “yea she asked me where the dressing room was and headed straight there.” she replies with a small smile. “ah, alright. thanks.”

when he arrives to the dressing room he goes to the one stall that’s closed, knocking before twisting the doorknob. “didn’t even lock the damn thing.” he grumbles to himself before stepping inside.

you sat on the dressing rooms chair with your head leaned back and eyes closed. “oh you’re kidding me.”

he lightly smacks your cheek to wake you up, a bit upset. “o-oh! hi papi,” you say meekly. “was tired of all that walking.. was only going to take a real small nap..” you confess, your cheeks a flushed pink.

“baby.. i.. what? cmon doll, you serious with me right now?” he questions, a disapproving expression on his face. “you’re the one that wanted to go to the mall, remember?” it was true, you wanted to get closer to topper and kelce— being rafe’s friends and all, so you invited them to go shopping with you. “i-i know papi, we just did so much walking ‘s all..” you whine, standing up as you hug rafe gently, sighing. “oh doll, cmon. let’s just go already.” he says lightly, dragging you back out and telling the boys it was time to go home for the day, them being secretly glad as they had literally no idea what to do in all the stores you had been visiting— let’s just say every since then, rafe refused to let go of your hand anytime you guys went out afterwards.

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lovebugism · 3 months

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Im a very indecisive person but I guess I'll go with “Surprise, I have feelings and you just hurt them.” with Eddie, if you have any inspiration for this prompt 💕

ty for requesting!! — you get mean when you like someone, so eddie thinks you hate him (grump!reader, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, shameless succession reference, 1.9k)

“Please, tell me you’re joking,” you mumble through the melting vanilla shake on your tongue.

Robin grins at you across the table and shakes her head. “Nope,” she says, popping the p. “You are officially looking at Vicki Carmichael’s latest odyssey.”

You and Eddie look over your shoulder at Steve. He stands at the front counter and fumbles with the straw dispenser — hitting the lever repeatedly, with an increasingly rougher touch when nothing comes out. He flounders when they all spill out at once.

He’s lucky he’s so pretty.

“Wait, I’m confused,” Eddie announces from beside you after stealing a sip of your milkshake. He squints and fights off a brain freeze. “Why didn’t he just tell us? He’s screwing the hottest girl in town— it feels like something he’d brag about.”

“I’m sitting right here,” you scoff, mostly kidding.

“‘Cause he knew you guys would totally ream him for it,” Robin answers and pinches fry crumbs into her mouth. Through a mouthful of them, she says, “It’s not like you’re usually supportive about this kinda stuff.”

“I’m all for Steve being a slut, okay?” you defend with your hands up in surrender. “But I do draw the line at my best friend fucking the girl who bullied me in high school.”

“What’d she do?” Eddie asks. You can’t tell if he really cares or if he just wants something new to laugh at you for, but you decide to humor him anyway.

“She cut out the boobs of my gym shirt before class because she knew if I dressed out again, I was getting detention,” you explain, smiling when it makes the table laugh. “I had to run the mile with my bright pink sports bra showing, but at least my record was clean.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Steve wonders aloud when he returns to the table, carrying the only straw that hadn’t fallen to the floor. He slides into the booth next to Robin and looks at the three of you expectantly.

“Nothing.” the brunette girl chirps.

“You,” Eddie deadpans.

You squint. “Real smooth, Munson.”

“Wait, what?”

Eddie laughs. “I mean, Vicki Carmichael? Seriously?”

Steve gapes at Robin, features yawned in betrayal. “You told them?”

The girl shrugs, taking a big bite of her burger and playing coy.

“She’s hot and everything, but she’s really not your type, man.”

Steve’s eyes narrow across the table. “What’s that supposed to mean, freak?”

“She likes bad boys,” you answer for him, shrugging like it’s obvious. “You know, the Billy Hargrove types. With tattoos and leather jackets and long hair. And, no offense, but you’re the furthest thing from that.”

“I think you just described me, doll,” Eddie laughs.

“Weren’t you screwing around with Billy Hargrove a couple months ago?” Steve wonders with a knowing, honeyed squint.

“Shut up, Harrington,” you bite.

Eddie grins with all his teeth, pink and boyish and proud. “Oh, so you’re screwing guys that are just like me now, huh? I’m flattered.”

“If anything, you’re the dollar store version of Billy Hargrove, Munson,” you retort with a roll of your eyes, turning your attention to the milkshake in front of you. You stab holes in the thick ice cream and try to ignore the sudden attention.

All the eyes on you make you nervous. You were never good at being the butt of the joke. ‘Cause when you get embarrassed, you get mean. Like some kinda hurt dog.

“You have everything but the looks.”

“Fuck off,” Eddie snorts and snatches the frosted glass away from you. He slides it over to his side of the table and sips from the straw that has your lipstick stained on the tip of it. “You can’t insult me—”

“Can’t I?”

“—Not when you’re fucking a carbon copy of me,” he scoffs and tries to ignore the jealousy burning wildfires behind his ribcage.

“He’s nothing like you,” you insist.

“He’s exactly like me. Just blonde. And watered down,” Eddie argues, face twisted with disgust. He smiles when it makes everyone else laugh but you. “I mean, it’s kinda sad, actually. I turned you down, so you had to try it out with Hargrove?”

“I didn’t try it, first of all, I fucking conquered it,” you retort, not exactly joking but grinning when it makes Steve and Robin chuckle to themselves. “And second of all, I never wanted you, Munson. So there was never anything to turn down.”

Your words sting somewhere deep in his chest. Like there’s a knife lodged deep in his heart that aches every time he breathes. He doesn’t know what to do with this hurt other than hurt you back.

“So that night you told me you liked me after my show— that was all a lie?” he asks, smirking to hide his ache.

Robin’s eyes go wide as she bites into her burger. “What is this? A sleepover?” she scoffs with her mouth full. “Why is everyone telling each other’s secrets?”

“You started it, Buckley,” Steve quips before stealing one of her fries.

Your answer is immediate. A total lie, but instant nonetheless. No one’s gonna out-insult you. Rarely ever do you come out of petty arguments without having drawn the most blood.

“Yeah! You bombed, and I felt bad, and I wanted to make you feel better,” you confess with a sinister giggle. “What I really wanted to say is that I wish your mom had given birth to a can opener because at least then it might be good at something.”

Eddie meets your smirk with a glower, something genuinely pained that makes your chest sting. You refuse to show it, though. Not even when he slides out of the booth. “Yeah, okay. Fuck you,” he mumbles to himself as he goes.

“What?” you scoff a cynical laugh.

“C’mon,” Steve murmurs quietly to you. “That was a little too far.”

“Oh, so he can make fun of me, but I can make fun of him?”

“It’s different. You know that.”

You roll your eyes even though you know he’s right. Eddie’s a clown, but he means well. He’s a dumbass because he doesn’t know how to be serious about anything, but he’s hardly ever outright mean.

You’re made of something more hardened than that. You set fires all around you, and only when a person walks through it do you know they really care. You don’t mean to be so mean half the time. It’s a defense mechanism more than anything. A time-bomb you never really learned to defuse.

“It was a joke, Eds!” you shout as he storms the short distance to the entrance of the diner.

“Well, surprise. I have feelings—” he grins, though there’s little emotion behind it. The door dings over his head when he shoves it open. He reaches for the crushed packet of cigarettes in his pocket. “—And you just hurt them.”

The diner feels strangely silent with him gone. The air feels noticeably heavy, too.

You reach for the milkshake he left on his side of the table and slide it audibly back over to you. You don’t sip from it, though. Your stomach’s too much in knots now. You just busy your fidgeting hands with it, holding the frosted glass in your delicate palms until they ache.

“Stop staring at me,” you mumble, not meeting the silent looks Robin and Steve give you across the booth.

“Go talk to him before you give him a complex.”

“Yeah,” the boy hums with a knowing smile. “Go kiss and make up.”

“Shut up,” you bite with a scrunched-together face. You deflate with a sigh. “Fine. I’ll go— but not because you told me to.”

You hear them laugh quietly to themselves as you walk out behind Eddie.

He leans against the corner of the old building and blows smoke from his lungs. He looks relatively unfazed despite the circumstances. You swallow down the worry that you’re embarrassing yourself by being out here at all.

Your shoes scuff against the sidewalk as you near him. “Eds—”

“I’m fine,” he interjects before you can say anything real. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“Well, it’s too late. Steve and Robin already kicked me out here, so…” You trail off in a monotone, despite having already declared that you were out here not because you were told to be. He doesn’t need to know that, though. “…I’m sorry.”

He takes a puff of the cigarette between his fingers, then shrugs on the exhale. “Okay.”

“The can opener thing was stupid— I mean, it wasn’t nice either, but it was a really dumb joke,” you ramble without taking a single breath. You cross your arms over yourself in a makeshift shield. “You didn’t even bomb that night. At your show or whatever. I lied. You were… You were actually really good.”

Eddie turns his head slowly. He blinks at you with chocolate eyes sparkling with amusement.

You cower under his stare. “What?”

“I know what you’re doing,” he insists with a crooked smile.

“What?” you repeat, forcing a laugh.

“You’re fucking with me,” he chuckles and brings the cig back to his mouth. He mumbles through the stick. “But it’s cool, you know? I can cope.”

“I’m being serious, Eddie,” you argue. And then, when your chest starts to sting, it becomes impossible not to make a joke. “I think you’re a… super-talented superstar—”

“You’re such a fucking bitch,” he interjects with a sincere laugh, like honey and gunpowder.

You giggle, and the foreign tension ebbs.

“I’m just kidding,” you assure and prop your back against the wall beside him. “Well, I mean, I’m not, but I…” You stammer when you can’t find the words. You gesture wildly with your hands. “I do think you’re talented, it’s just— It’s hard for me to be serious, okay? But I am sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he assures, tossing the cigarette to the ground and snuffing the ash with his sneaker. “Trust me. I know what you mean.”

You swallow hard. “And I wasn’t… What I said to you that night, in your van after the show… I wasn’t lying.”

Eddie’s head snaps up. He blinks at you with a gaping gaze, even though you’re not looking at him to see it. You’re much more focused on the dumpster across the street, lest you meet his eyes and get embarrassed all over again.

This is the realest you’ve ever been with him, you think — since you told him you liked him and he all but turned you down.

Being vulnerable has been impossible since then.

“Then why’d you never talk to me about it again?” he asks, then stammers over himself. “You acted like it never even happened— I thought I fucking— like, dreamt it or some shit.”

“Because you didn’t say anything back! I thought you didn’t feel the same way!”

“I was just— I was just shocked. You always act like you hate me!”

“Because I like you, you idiot!” you blurt before you mean to, then huff with impatience at yourself. “Fuck. Sorry. I don’t know… I don’t know how to be nice to people I like.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie laughs, shifting on the brick wall until his shoulder rubs against it. He looks down at you like he’s seeing you for the very first time — glittering with the hope of finally getting close to you, of finally having something real.

“Don’t laugh!” you argue. “I’m trying really hard here!”

“I know,” he murmurs lowly, leaning in until you can taste the nicotine on his breath. In a honeyed tone, he confesses, “It’s a good thing I like you mean, then, huh?”

Your heart lurches into your throat. He smirks when you freeze, and knocks his shoulder against yours when he heads back into the diner.

The game of cat and mouse continues.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble

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