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sorrowsofsilence · 4 months

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Diagnosis • Sebastian

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: Smut (18+, fingering, female!receiving), PnV pls wrap it b4 u tap it, male!recieving, choking, doctor x patient (uncomfy situation so pls don't read if the idea of a doctor being unethical isn't your vibe- it is also not my vibe but yk, Dr. Davis can do anything to me lol)

Prompt: You had no idea your past highschool school hook-up would be your substitute doctor during your annual check-up; but let's just say you were in desperate need of a physical.

Author note: LOL I AM GOING TO HELLLLL - but also I've seen so many Dr. Davis ideas I had to create one myself; so thank you to especially (@valiantroeagleangel) whose work inspired me. You are wonderful. And shout out to some sexy phrases by @loveisanimaginarydagger3000 - I’m weak

THIS IS A FANFIC USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THAT THIS PERSON WOULD DO THIS IRL OR ACT LIKE THIS! ITS FICTION!

Tags: @sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d @dsireland86 @whenthesummerdies @spicywhenspeaking @gretaswhore28 @veronicaphoenix @lma1986 @calleyx13 @somewhere-diamond @talialovesmiw @auratheopossumwitch

(I wasn't sure who I should tag, and if you would like to be tagged in one-shots please let me know! If you’d like to me to remove you as well pls also let me know!! I just took some tags that I've had in past one-shots, and those I think would enjoy! <3)

You picked at your fingernails nervously as you sat in the waiting room, your leg bouncing up and down rapidly.

Something about Doctors’ offices always made you nervous, especially when it involved a doctor that wasn’t your own. You were getting a routine check-up and your first pap smear, scheduled with your regular doctor, but she had a last-minute family emergency. This meant you were going to be inspected by someone else, and that thought made you slightly uneasy.

You played with the mask that covered your nose, pinching at the metal band that rested on the bridge before tugging at the string.

The old woman next to you watched your anxious wading with curious eyes, and you simply shifted in your seat, avoiding her gaze.

Your name was finally called and you followed the nurse, allowing her to check your height, and then leading you into a room located at the end of the hall.

She sat you down, your legs crunching beneath the paper as she placed the blood pressure bump along your arm, squeezing until it tightened and let go.

“Your blood pressure seems to be a little high?” She said, eyebrows furrowing.

You rubbed your hands nervously between your thighs, “I’m just a little anxious.”

Her eyes smiled, indicating a soft grin beneath the mask she wore, “You’ll be just fine. Dr. Davis is a fantastic doctor.”

His name rang off her tongue, piquing your interest. Davis. You knew someone with that last name in high school.

“You can take your mask off in here by the way. Just set it on the side.” She nodded before leaving and you sat there for a few more moments, nervously shifting in your seat.

After a few minutes, you heard a soft knock on the door and you sat up straight, anticipating the man who would be taking care of you today.

The door opened and a man with soft chestnut hair that fell slightly in front of his face walked in, thin-framed glasses sat promptly on top of his nose, covered by a black mask. He hadn’t looked up from the clipboard that was in his hands as he kicked the door closed with his foot gently, tattooed fingers holding up the top page as his eyes skimmed rapidly over the words.

“How’s it going? I’m Dr. Davis.” His voice fell from his lips in a firm but gentle tone and your eyes widened in surprise as you remembered the faint lisp at the end of his ‘s’, and the twang in his accent.

“Hi,” you whispered as you absorbed his image, eyes skimming over his white coat that draped down his long body. The light-blue button-up sat tightly against his neck. You swallowed gently at the ink that crawled just above the collar, sinched between a black tie traced with binary code as the pattern.

“Y/N Y/L/N?” He asked with a curious tone, gaze immediately leaving the page as his orbs met your own, and your heart raced as his ochre eyes bore into yours.

His professionalism dropped slightly as his eyes skimmed over your face in recognition, and your lips parted slightly. He stood still, frozen in remembrance before he coughed, setting the clipboard on the counter and taking a seat next to his computer.

Noah Sebastian Davis is your doctor.

He immediately avoided your gaze as your face began to warm, and you crossed your legs, feeling vulnerable under his authority as he sat there, distracting himself with his computer.

Your high school hookup is your doctor.

“Well,” He began typing, a soft waver barely evident in his voice, “It’s been a long time.”

“Thirteen years,” You licked your lips quickly, smiling shyly as you stared at your legs, glancing up every so often to steal a look at your doctor. You felt even more nervous than before as the man who sat in front of you eventually turned, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he watched you intensely.

“Look, let’s just keep this professional. If you’re more comfortable with someone else I can get another doctor in here.” He said monotonously, leaning over his lap as his elbows rested on his knees.

You mustered a small smile as your chest hammered, eyes grazing across the tattoos embedded into his fingers Memories of the way they used to dance along your skin left your stomach swirling.

“It’s alright, I don’t mind…” Your thoughts trailed off as you looked at the ground, “if you don’t mind?”

Dr. Davis maintained strict eye contact, his voice proper and fixed, “It’s my job to remain professional and competent. I strive for nothing but efficiency, and I’ll have you in and out Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“Miss,” You corrected quietly, picking at your nails again.

Something flashed across his eyes at the realization, and your ears flushed as you adjusted yourself on the examination table.

He turned on the chair again, fingers tapping on the keyboard.

“Let’s go through some medical history to clarify things under your files. It seems you usually have Dr. Thomas, am I correct?”

You hummed in confirmation, nodding along.

“Any health concerns to bring up in your visit today?”

You shook your head, “Just a routine check-up and a pap smear.”

Dr. Davis nodded along, shifting in his seat at the mention of a pap, his hand reaching to pull against his collar as if loosening the tension that was building within the room.

“Any issues regarding mental health?”

You shook your head.

“Eating and drinking well?”

You nodded.

“Any allergies?”

You shook your head.

“Sexually active?”

You noticed his voice hither slightly, as he glanced over at you briefly, before fixating his eyes on the computer again.

“Not like, regularly.”

He shifted in his seat, nodding.

“Multiple partners?”

“Uhm,” you began to stutter nervously at his questions, “A few. Not frequently changing.”

It was a routine check-up, you reminded yourself. Doctors asked these questions.

You shrugged, eyes skimming up towards him again as his eyes bore into you once again, your abdomen clenching as his gaze darkened.

“How many since me?”

You coughed, caught off guard as you stared at him in disbelief, “P-pardon?”

He didn’t repeat the question, but instead continued typing, clicking away at your file.

“Three,” You then said, watching him carefully and he hummed in response.

“Anything else you think I should know?” He asked, returning to his cool, professional composure.

You shook your head again, watching as his chest heaved slowly as he stood up. He grabbed the stethoscope that hung around his neck, and you watched as he placed the ends in his ears before standing in front of you, maintaining a distance.

“Let me check your lungs… can you take your jacket off?” He asked, watching you carefully as you peeled off the layer, placing it to the side.

Dr. Davis then sat next to you on the examination table and your heart began to pick up pace at the proximity of his body, his cologne melting into your senses.

His shoulder brushed against yours as he leaned behind you to place the end of the stethoscope on top of your back.

He asked you to take in a deep breath, and you inhaled swiftly, attempting to exhale in a slow, controlled pattern; but the breath that left your lungs was shaky and uneven.

“Sorry,” you whispered, and he ran the stethoscope across your back again, this time placing it underneath your shirt, the cold metal causing a shiver to run down your body.

“Three more,” He asked gently and you obliged, each breath faltering again as your heart raced.

There was no doubt he could hear the thump of your heart pick up as his warm fingers gently skimmed your skin as he controlled the stethoscope; knowing how nervous his proximity made you.

He pulled away, staring at your flushed face before leaning behind you to grab an ear otoscope.

“Just going to check your ears,” he said as his warm hands pulled along your ear, his warm breath creating goosebumps along the skin in your neck as the hairs stood up.

Your stomach butterflied as he then grabbed a wooden popsicle stick, standing in front of you now, placed between your legs.

“open,” he commanded and you obliged, sticking out your tongue and making an ‘ah’ sound.

Dr. Davis held underneath your chin to look up at him as he placed the wood on top of your tongue, pressing down slightly. Your abdomen clenched as a rush of emotions ran through your body, making eye contact with the tattooed doctor as he stared back, not even looking at the back of your throat as your mouth was agape, open widely for him.

You wanted nothing more than to reach up and pull against the fabric of his mask, greedily wanting to expose his lips to see the rest of his face and smile, to see how handsome he had gotten with age.

Your chest heaved as his fingers slid from underneath your chin, trailing down your throat with firm but gentle fingertips, the tension between you building as seconds passed by. He pulled back his hand, along with the popsicle stick, and your mouth closed slowly as he took a step back.

As he turned from you, the way he slid his hand into his pocket to readjust himself didn’t go unnoticed, before he faced you again, nodding curtly.

“I’ll let you get undressed from the waist down. You can place this blanket over yourself, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He averted his gaze as he opened the door, closing it gently behind him.

You let out a breath as your mind began to race. The way your mind kept tracing back to years of messing around with him in high school sent your stomach into a lustful spiral, the warmth of his inked fingers relighting years of memories he engraved into your skin.

Noah had given you years of orgasms, some of the best you ever had. None of your other lovers had compared to him, and your body knew this, sparking complete excitement at his presence once again.

You shifted on your feet embarrassed at this, peeling off your jeans as you folded them neatly on the chair. You slid off your black panties, placing them on top of your pants before lying down on the bed, the cool air causing you to shiver.

Or perhaps, it was the fact Noah was going to be extremely close to your intimate space after so many years of deprivation.

You two hooked up on and off for years during adolescence, never forming a relationship beyond that; even though you always wanted to.

You always had feelings for Noah, but you knew he wanted nothing more than to fuck you senselessly, and then part ways. No strings attached.

After high school graduation, you two parted, never speaking to each other again. You had always wondered what he had gone off and set to do, and being a doctor was honestly the last thing you’d think he’d do. Noah had always been extremely smart, but it still came as a complete shock when he was the one who walked through that wooden door just fifteen minutes prior.

You covered yourself with the thin blanket and a moment later Dr. Davis came through the door again, glancing at your exposed legs before turning to grab a pair of gloves from the counter.

You watched him intensely as he pulled the latex over his fingers, almost drooling at the thought of them running along your folds. You shook away the thought, knowing that you would be completely dripping by the time he would be sitting between your legs, examining you.

The last thing you wanted was for him to know the effect he still had on you, even after all these years.

He made eye contact with you again, tugging at the tie around his neck once again as he took the chair, rolling it to the edge of your feet. Before sitting he pulled out the stirrups.

“You can rest your heels on here,” He pointed to the plastic, and you noticed how his ears began to flush red, his chest rising and falling quickly as he glanced into your eyes once again.

When he looked away you glanced down at his black slacks, swallowing harshly at the bold outline of his erection that was extremely evident, through his tight pants.

You swallowed as you slowly lifted your legs, exposing yourself to the man who now sat at the end of the bed, the thin blanket sliding down your thighs gently, leaving your body on display for Dr. Davis.

“Fuck.”

The word was barely audible. He had whispered it so quietly through gritted teeth, but you still managed to hear the four-letter word, and it sent another rush of warm lust through your body.

“I-I’m just going to examine you before inserting the speculum.” Dr. Davis’ professional tone faltered briefly, and you wanted to look down at him so badly.

You knew that he was aroused, but you had no idea how badly Noah wanted to tear into your pussy right then and there.

For years Noah wondered what happened to you. After years of dedication to med school, he didn’t have much time to form relationships, and he usually had a quick fuck here and there to tie over his cravings. He reminisced frequently about how good you felt wrapped around his cock, all of his past flings never making him feel quite how you did.

This morning when he agreed to substitute at the clinic he had no idea what to expect. You were the last thing he thought would happen, and the second he read your name on that piece of paper as he entered your room he felt his mind begin to spiral.

How was he supposed to remain professional around you?

His biggest regret was never pursuing anything further with you years ago, worried that if feelings got involved he would lose the best thing he ever had. In turn, he fucked himself over in the end, because he had lost you either way; but now, you were right here in front of him, naked and on display.

The second he saw you sitting on the exam table he felt an immediate rush to his pants, his mind racing as he began to sweat, the room suddenly feeling stuffy and tight. He couldn’t help but watch your lips as they parted when you talked, memories of them wrapped around himself as your tongue slid up and down his length leaving him unable to concentrate as he attempted to read your file.

He watched as you shifted nervously in front of him when he checked your lungs, heart racing rapidly under his touch. He wanted to rip your thighs apart, slipping his fingers into you, wanting to leave you begging.

Noah wanted to pull his name from your lips; leaving you worshiping him, needing him.

He kept reminding himself that he was a professional now and that it was unacceptable to push the boundary of client-patient professionalism. There was a code of conduct and ethics he was required to follow; but he wanted to forget years of practice, just to get a taste of you.

You lay there, trying to keep your heavy breathing quiet; but you immediately gasped as one of his covered fingers spread you open, barely touching your skin, afraid to go further.

You closed your mouth tightly, biting the inside of your cheek as you scolded yourself.

Don’t fucking moan, don’t fucking moan. He barely touched you.

“I’m going to insert the speculum now,” He said quietly, and you heard him whisper another sentence to himself, “God, you don’t even need lube…”

You knew that he knew how turned on you were by just his presence alone, and you closed your eyes as Dr. Davis inserted the plastic into your body, the feeling of fullness causing you to chew on your bottom lip.

Dr. Davis clicked the hinges as the speculum opened you up, and you covered your mouth with your hand, something Noah had noticed.

“Are you in pain?” He asked gently, and you shook your head.

“N-no, I-I’m okay.”

He hummed again, and it was quiet for a moment.

There was a lack of movement for a second until you felt a gloved finger brush across your clit slowly, and you furrowed your brows in anticipation.

Fuck, that had to be an accident, right?

You tried to think rationally about the situation, but your thoughts trailed to dirty places, silently pleading that Dr. Davis would press against your intimacy again.

Noah had listened for your reaction as he sat before your legs that held you splayed open for him, his mind battling. He swallowed hungrily.

You felt his fingers brush against you again and your thighs jolted to his touch, before you felt the pad of his finger press firmly against you, tracing small circles as he tried drawing a moan from your lips.

Your mouth fell open in satisfaction as your body clenched, Dr. Davis’ fingers rubbing faster and faster.

You couldn’t help it as a gentle whimper crawled from your chest, and with furrowed brows, you bucked your hips into his touch; giving him the permission he desperately wanted.

You felt the speculum being removed, and seconds later a wet swipe trailed up along your folds.

“Oh my god,” You whispered and Dr. Davis hummed, his lips latching onto your sweet spot before two gloved fingers slid into you, curling upwards.

You began to moan again, pulling the blanket away to see the brunette devouring your body. He looked up at you with lustful eyes, his mask pulled underneath his chin.

You ogled upon seeing his entire face, brows furrowed with desire as he remained stone cold.

“If you moan loudly one more time I’ll stop.” He said as he began licking your body once again, eyes fixated on your own.

“Y-yes.”

“Yes, what?” He said, pulling his mouth away as he continued to pump his fingers in and out rapidly, taking his thin glasses off and placing them on the table.

“Yes sir.”

“Good girl,” he praised, burying himself between your legs again in famish, devouring you feverishly with complete craving.

Your legs began to shake from his praise and you covered your mouth with your hands as your hips pushed into Dr. Davis’ touch, completely engulfed with euphoria.

You didn’t know that he was palming himself through his slacks as he ate you out, desperate for friction, desperate for you to be the one touching him instead.

“Cum.” He demanded, and in a second his tongue swiped along your folds you felt the knot that he built release, elation washing through you as you choked back a desiring cry.

Your free hand gripped Dr. Davis’ hair as you pulled him closer, rubbing yourself along his face as he ate you until it became too much, pushing him away.

He stood up, mouth agape and wet from your release as you watched him with yearning, both your chests heaving.

He hastily began pulling off his white coat, throwing it to the floor as you watched him loosen his tie. Sitting up you beckoned him over and his fingers gripped your throat, pulling you towards him as his forehead rested against your own.

You looked into each other’s eyes as unspoken words danced between you, both of you needing each other but too afraid to speak.

He held you firmly for a moment before pulling your lips to his own, kissing you completely with need and hunger, forcing you to taste yourself

You groaned quietly into his lips as your tongues ran along each other, your fingers shaky as you began unbuttoning his blue dress shirt.

His fingers tightened around your neck as your hands trailed to the hem of his black pants, tugging at his waistband as you pulled apart his belt, sliding the zipper down slowly.

He moaned softly as your fingers slid along his abdomen, threatening to dip in to grab where he needed you.

“You’re in no position to tease princess, remember that,” He squeezed your neck again as he towered over you in authority, and you smiled.

“This is wrong.”

“So wrong.” He mumbled before kissing you in desperation again, your minds fogged with nothing but lust and arousal.

Dr. Davis’ hands pulled your shirt over your head as he pulled back, taking in the image of your exposed body, ready for him.

His covered fingers found their way to your core once again, slipping in and out as you pulled down his underwear, his body hard and ready to devour you.

You licked your fingers, smiling up at him as he watched with lustful eyes, before grabbing hold of his erection, pumping up and down as he thrust into your hand in eagerness. He pulled his fingers in and out of you quickly, your mouth falling open as you watched each other, pleasing one another.

“Spread your legs, baby,” Dr. Davis pleaded, and you opened your thighs farther.

“That’s it… Wider,” He whispered, before pulling his hands away from you, wrapping them around himself as he positioned his body to yours.

Dr. Davis didn’t hesitate any longer before he pushed into you, a loud whimper leaving you. His eyebrows furrowed angrily as his gloved hand covered your mouth, pushing you back into the wall.

“Be fucking quiet,” He said through gritted teeth, his chest heaving as he continued to thrust into you, filling your body, claiming you as his own.

He tore into your skin with his motions, the feeling of him pulling out before pushing back in deeply causing your legs to clench shut. He pushed them open with the hand that wasn’t covering your mouth.

“I said to spread them,” He scolded, fingers digging into your thigh before he slapped the top of your intimacy, earning a yelp from you as your body jolted from the contact.

He remained cold and composed, attempting to keep up his professional facade that was beginning to crumble before you. His eyes squeezed shut as he pushed your thighs back towards your chest, opening you as he fucked your body with possession.

You watched his head tilt back, exposing the tattoos on his neck as his lips fell open in complete satisfaction.

Your body felt perfectly wrapped around him, years of need ready to release into you.

Dr. Davis wanted to flip you over so you stood in front of him, one leg lifted onto the bed as he gripped your ass and pounded you; but he knew that right now, he needed to watch your face contort in pleasure for him, from him.

Your body clenched around him, “Dr. D-Davis,” You whimpered, still trying to remain quiet so as to not be heard by the rest of the clinic.

“Noah,” the brunette growled, bringing you into a kiss and you nodded, murmuring his name back to him against his lips in a plea.

He was close to his release, but he held back, waiting to pull another orgasm from you before he would bring you to your knees, ready to cum down your throat.

“You can do it, that’s a good girl.” He praised and you melted at his words, letting go as he thrust into you one more time, your body completely enveloping him as your mouth was covered by his hand once again to mask your screams. Your body shook through the orgasm Noah offered you.

He slid in and out slowly, before pulling away. His fingers were threaded through your hair as he guided you to the floor, placing you on your knees.

You took him into your mouth mercilessly, sucking and bobbing along his length before he gripped your face, pulling you closer.

You gagged along him, tears forming as a deep growl rumbled from his chest, signalling he was close.

Seconds later Noah’s release coated the back of your throat, and you swallowed his orgasm, looking up at him in commitment.

“You’ve always been mine to ruin,” He said, panting as he pulled you off of him, and you sat on the ground, smiling up at him.

The two of you got dressed in silence, the hormones lingering in the air as he pulled off the gloves, grabbing his prescription notepad and a pen.

“I wasn’t able to get a good enough sample to send off to the lab,” He said, scribbling away, “I’ll need you to meet me at my office this weekend.”

Dr. Davis handed you the note and you looked at the paper, staring at the phone number and address as he nodded toward you, opening the wooden door and leaving the office.

hshshgsghshghsshgh ok i am a mess

#bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens cult #bad omens band #noah sebastian davis #metalcore #dr davis #Dr. Davis #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #smut #bad omens smut #Doctor Noah Sebastian

565 notes · View notes

raz-writes-the-thing · 5 months

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Keep 'Er Steady (Doctor Who Drabble)

Tenth Doctor x Eleventh Doctor x GN!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are OPEN

Summary: It's about time you learnt how to fly the TARDIS

Fic type: smut lite

DW: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr @midnight--raine @blueberry-sunshines @stevekempscocktails @go-bonkers-go-foolish @peytonpenguin37 @yeethaw13 @complimentary-breadbasket @thekirbishow (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

When your Doctors had said they thought it was about time that they taught you how to fly the TARDIS, you’d been excited! How many of your friends could say that they’d learnt how to fly a Police Box through time and space? Not many, you’d wager.

But still, they’d given you a few lessons out in the Lower Belt where any obstacles were few and far between, and you felt like you were finally starting to get the hang of it. Twist that knob there, pull that lever here, slap that button over that side. Yeah, you were starting to get there.

And then they’d decided to up the stakes, soft caresses over your spine as they worked the more complicated parts of the flight system, a squeeze of your ass as a job well done, an affectionate kiss on the cheek when you landed successfully. It was nice.

And then, today- today was lesson number ten, and you had been doing very well, in your own opinion- but when Eleven ran his hand up your side and Ten trailed his fingers over the outside of your thigh, you’d sucked in a breath and focussing became that much harder.

Their hands trailed up to distract you, and as if they’d planned this (and they probably had), their lips were sucking marks into the skin of either side of your throat. You let out a gasp of a moan, trying to focus on the hand of the lever you were suddenly white-knuckling.

“Oh, come now,” Eleven laughed, only pulling away long enough to get the words out. “You’re behaving like something is distracting you, Petal.”

Your mouth dropped open as he swiped his tongue from clavicle to ear. Ten breathily chuckled into your neck, seeing how the goosebumps appeared over your arms and up your neck.

“Watch what you’re doing, love,” he breathed, trailing kisses down your shoulder. “Wouldn’t want to crash land on a stray moon now, would we?”

You shook your head and forced yourself to focus, opening your eyes to check on the stats on the screen before you. You pulled the lever to the right and the TARDIS made a groaning sound as she got back on track.

Both their hands began trailing over your tummy and towards your crotch. You stuttered on your words as you tried to focus on flying.

“I- boys- you’re not being o-hoh-verly helpful,” you breathed, hips jolting towards their exploring hands.

“I think learning under pressure is fantastic, don’t you, Eleven?” Ten said thoughtfully, dragging his fingers to your lower belly and rubbing soft circles there.

“Oh- most definitely,” Eleven added seriously, hand sliding over Ten’s to rub at you through your pants. “You have to know how to keep the TARDIS steady even when there are distractions, Petal-”

You supposed that made sense, but with both of them laving attention over you like this, you weren’t sure how many lessons it was going to take before their distractions would stop, well, distracting you.

But you looked forward to finding out.

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jungshookz · 1 year

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smitten: jungkook's date is tonight but y/n's more stressed about it than he is

➺ pairing; jeon jungkook x reader

➺ genre; smitten!miniseries!! bff!kook & smitten!y/n!! university!au!! honk honk humour!! the boo hoo angsty wattpad-energy fic of your dreams!! unrequited love!! so much pining!! it hurts so bad but that's what makes it so good!! yoongi should really mind his own business!!

➺ wordcount; 6.5k

➺ summary; jungkook's dream date with ji-eun is tonight and y/n's going to do everything in her power to make sure everything goes perfectly.

➺ what to expect; "we've been planning and preparing for this date for the past week, jungkook. i'm going to do everything in my power to make sure that things go according to plan. your date is going to be perfect.”

➺ currently spinning on the record player; i wish [one direction]

➺ smitten: part one [the almost confession]; part two [the incriminating note]

»»————- ♥ ————-««

“pepperoni to garlic knot- pepperoni to garlic knot- come in- are you there?"

the sound of the walkie talkie crackling to life makes you perk up and you reach behind to pull it out from your back pocket, pressing down on the side button with your thumb before bringing it up to your mouth

“garlic knot to pepperoni- i'm here." you bite back a grin at the silly nicknames jungkook insisted on using before speaking up again, "the last of the fairy lights have been strung up, by the way! over."

“oh, sick!" jungkook gasps lightly, "okay, i need you to come down and help me because i've been trying to tie this tie for the last, like, half an hour and at this point i’m just going to have to wave a white flag and surrender. over.”

"roger that. i'm coming down." you tuck the walkie talkie into your pocket again before letting out a sigh and looking around the rooftop setup with your hands on your hips

you must admit it looks really good (as it should, because you've literally been setting everything up since this morning and it's about 5:30pm now)

the bubble tent's been blown up and you made it all comfy and cozy inside with fluffed up pillows and soft throw blankets

you strung the fairy lights up on the clotheslines and you made sure to use fresh batteries for them so that they'll last all night

and the little round table that jungkook and ji-eun will be eating dinner at was a little wobbly but that problem was easily fixed with some blu-tak

the happy smile on your face twitches slightly when the realization that you spent the entire day setting up a date that you're not even a part of hits you

"…oh, you silly girl.” you can't help but snort as you shake your head and turn around to head towards the rooftop door so you can go to jungkook’s apartment, "you silly, silly girl-"

all of this time

all of this effort

all of this everything for a boy you like who you know for sure doesn't like you back because if he liked you back he wouldn’t have asked someone else out

what exactly do you think the end result is here?

what exactly do you think you're gaining out of this?

literally nothing!!!!

so why are you doing all of this??

"because i'm a big ol' simp with no backbone, apparently-" you mutter under your breath as you open the door to jungkook's apartment, forcing the frown off your face and replacing it with an easygoing smile

you may be a simp with no backbone but…

well, no

that’s it. there’s nothing else to say.

"y/n? that you?"

"yeah! sorry, probably should’ve knocked or something- also, not to toot my own horn or anything, but i did a fantastic job with the decorations! i could be a party planner or something if this whole school thing doesn’t work out-” you kick the door shut behind you before looking around for jungkook, "where are you?"

"gimme a sec! i'm, like- i'm almost done, just wait-"

you plop down on the couch and tilt your head back to look up at the ceiling before letting out another quiet sigh

this is why you need to be constantly busy doing things, because if you get even a moment of peace, you start to think and think and think and you hate being alone with your thoughts because your brain starts to mock you and berate you and say things like hey, y/n? you have a paper due at midnight tonight that you're only halfway done with but instead you're prioritizing being a wingwoman to a boy who's head over heels in love with someone else-

"okay, hi!" you jolt in surprise at the sound of jungkook's voice from behind you and you're about to turn around when suddenly he speaks up again, "hold on! close your eyes until i tell you to open them."

"what? why?" you frown as you settle back against the couch again and shut your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest, “i already know what you’re going to wear, i’m the one that picked the outfit for you anyway-”

"i know, but surprises are fun-" you hear the shuffling of material and you resist the urge to turn around immediately as your impatience grows, "okay, i think that looks fine. turn around!"

"i really don't know why you had to prepare me to see you in-" you twist your upper half around so you can finally look at jungkook and almost immediately you feel your heart skip a beat at the sight

the crisp white button-up tucked into a pair of slacks are a stark contrast to the outfits you're so used to seeing jungkook in because most of the time he's drowning in a sweatshirt that's ten sizes too big for him and some slouchy cargo pants and a pair of chunky black stompers

but this? this is…

oh, wow.

"so?" jungkook's being uncharacteristically shy with you as he averts his gaze and reaches down to fiddle with one of the buttons on his shirt, "how… do i look?"

"-handsome." you blurt out, shaking yourself out of your slight daze as you get up from the couch so you can go over to him, "you look- you look very handsome, jungkook. you- yeah, you look very handsome.” you press your lips together, unsure if you should say anything else because you’re not sure where the line is between being a supportive friend or just ogling your friend like he’s a piece of meat

it's when you find yourself looking down at your own outfit (jeans and a t-shirt and socks with a hole on the right heel) that the little voice in the back of your head reminds you of the reality of the situation: that he's looking very handsome not for you, but for ji-eun, and in this moment you wish there was a way to just shut your brain off to cease all cruel thoughts

jungkook looks very nice. just focus on one thing at a time.

“oh my god-“ jungkook's nose immediately scrunches up before he lets out a little laugh, "you're totally hitting on me right now, you weirdo- you look very handsome, jungkook-” he mocks you in a higher voice and you can’t help but feel a little dejected that this is how he reacts to a genuine compliment from you

if anything, it’s more confirmation you didn’t need that jungkook most definitely doesn’t feel the same way about you

"well, i-" you stop yourself from walking any closer to him as you feel your entire face flush bright red, "i- well, i’m trying to be supportive here… you look nice, i’m not gonna be an asshole and say you look bad for this date-” you force out a nervous laugh as you reach up to rub the back of your neck, "whatever, you look fine-"

“thank you, i just- i’m not used to compliments but anyway-” jungkook interrupts you (thankfully, otherwise you definitely would’ve continued to babble and babble and babble) to hold up a black tie, "you need to help me with this."

"you know, i… i actually don't think you need the tie?" you tilt your head a little as you look over jungkook's outfit, "i think you'll look better without it on, and a tie seems a little too formal for the date- can i-" you shuffle forwards slightly before undoing a couple of buttons on jungkook's shirt and spreading the collar open a little, jungkook raising his head a bit so you can work your magic

"you really think this looks better?” he asks quietly, and your eyes flicker up to meet his for a brief second before you quickly look back down at your fumbling fingers

"yea,” you respond, pressing your lips together as you smooth out the collar before taking the tie from his hand, tossing it over your shoulder and stepping back to look at your work, "yeah. that's much better. okay, put the suit jacket on, lemme see the whole look-"

"dude, i've been, like- so nervous all day." jungkook lets out a breath as he pulls the suit jacket up off the back of the couch, "like- okay, obviously ji-eun and i get along really well in real life, but this is the first time we'll be in, like, a romantic setting, you know? like romantic on purpose.“

"it'll be fine. i mean, you already got through the hardest bit which was asking her out-" you shrug as you lean against the back of the couch and cross an ankle over the other, "and she said yes, so… obviously you're doing something right. you’re gonna be fine, you just have first date jitters! everyone gets the first date jitters.”

"i know, but-" he smooths the sleeves of the suit jacket out before looking back over at you, "ah, i don't know. i just feel like i'm gonna screw up somehow, you know?"

"you won’t,” you shake your head before offering him a smile, "just be yourself! don't put too much pressure on, like- on acting like how you think she wants you to act, you know what i mean? just be yourself. she likes you, jungkook. you're a total catch, so-" you cut yourself off before you wander into the ‘you’re a total catch which is actually the reason why i’m in love with you' portion of your pep-talk as you get up off the couch, "yeah! just- just relax. everything's going to go perfectly tonight. and like i was saying when i first walked in here, not to toot my own horn or anything but the rooftop looks immaculate.”

“i’m sure it does! i can’t wait to see it-“ jungkook pauses all of a sudden, his eyes widening in realization, "oh, shit!"

you don't even get the chance to ask him what's wrong before he starts to spiral and you blink rapidly at the sudden change in behaviour

"oh my god.” jungkook slaps his hand against his forehead, “i- fuck, i forgot to pick up the flowers and the- oh my god, i knew i forgot to do something today!" he gawks, pulling his phone out of his back pocket, "shit! shit, shit- damnit, i was gonna pick them up this morning and then i went to the gym and i forgot-"

“i-" you’re slightly startled at how stressed he is over some flowers and you can’t help but chuckle, “there’s even a little sticky note on the fridge to remind you-”

"i know!” jungkook whines, “i know, i don't know, i guess it just slipped my mind because i've literally been thinking about this date all week-“ he sucks some air in through his teeth before shaking his head, “okay, i guess i can just head over there right now and then come back-”

"woah, woah-" you skid over and press a hand to jungkook's chest to keep him from bolting out the door, “what are you talking about? you can't leave now! it's- it's 5:45- and not to mention, it's literally rush hour so the highways are probably all clogged up right now and- ji-eun's going to be here in half an hour so you'll never make it back in time and your suit's going to get all wrinkled because you'll be all cramped up on the bus-"

"y/n, the flowers and the teddy bear are two essential parts of the date,” jungkook looks at you with wide eyes, clearly desperate to leave the apartment, “i’m not gonna have anything to give her when she arrives, she can’t show up only for me to be empty handed-”

"hey, relax!” you snap, softening your tone when jungkook’s shoulders droop slightly, “listen, you are not going to leave the apartment because ji-eun is coming and i’m sure she’ll be disappointed if she finds me on the rooftop instead of you. this is what’s going to happen: you’re going to sit here and wait for ji-eun, i’m going to go and pick up the flowers and the teddy bear, and then you can give them to her after the date. it’s going to be fine, you are literally being so dramatic right now-”

"but-"

"look, i'm sure ji-eun isn't going to throw a tantrum if you don't present her with a bouquet of flowers at the beginning of the date- if she did, that’d be kind of odd but that’s not the point- the point is, it'll be fine. you go on your date, i’ll pick them up."

"yeah, but-!"

"kook, i've got it, alright?" you back away from him slowly but you keep your arm extended to make sure he doesn't move, "i'll take care of everything, you know i can handle it- just- i'm gonna go now and then- i'll leave behind the rooftop door as soon as i get them, okay? and i'll text you so that you'll know they're there-"

"y/n…" jungkook chews on the inside of his cheek anxiously, guilt swirling around in his eyes, "you've already done so much for me, i can't ask you to-"

"we've been planning and preparing for this date for the past week, jungkook. i'm going to do everything in my power to make sure that things go according to plan. your date is going to be perfect.”

“are you sure? i feel bad, i feel like you did so much and-”

“i’m sure, jungkook-" you interrupt him again before turning to grab your jacket off coat rack, “the only thing you have to think about tonight is how you’re going to charm ji-eun — and to be honest, you don’t even need to think about it because all you have to do is be yourself! now sit down and try to relax. and try not to wrinkle your shirt, i spent way too long ironing it earlier."

»»————- ♥ ————-««

your nose crinkles slightly as you look up at the sky, your brows knitting together in concern at the light grey clouds hanging in the air

the forecast did say it would be cloudy today (and it has been cool and cloudy all day) but you’re hoping it doesn’t rain because if it rains that’ll completely ruin the date and jungkook will probably be electrocuted by the fairy lights if he touched them

of course, jungkook and ji-eun can take cover in that bubble tent if it starts to rain, but hopefully it doesn’t… (why are you so hellbent on making sure this date is going to go smoothly?! you might as well plan their wedding for them as well at this rate.)

you perk up when you see the bus you’re supposed to take rounding the corner and you fumble in your purse for your bus card, stepping up to the stop eagerly

your phone buzzes in your pocket and you pull it out once you plop yourself down in a seat in the back

from: jungkook (5:58pm) — Holy shit I’m acc so nervous

from: jungkook (5:58pm) — What if this goes horribly

you can’t help but roll your eyes at how panicky jungkook is being because he really has no reason to be nervous

all he had to do was dress himself and make himself presentable because you were the one who did all the hard work of setting up (to be fair, you insisted on setting up alone because you like things done a certain way and jungkook seemed too jittery to focus)

to: jungkook (5:58pm) — you’re literally going to be fine

to: jungkook (5:58pm) — it’s going to be fine

to: jungkook (5:58pm) — you already know she likes you

to: jungkook (5:59pm)— just think of this as another one of your hangouts but you guys are dressed more fancy and you’re on a rooftop for some reason LOL

from: jungkook (5:59pm) — Okay

from: jungkook (5:59pm) — She says she’s almost here

from: jungkook (5:59pm) — Do you think I should’ve picked her up instead of her meeting me here

to: jungkook (5:59pm) — …you rented out a rooftop for her i think she’ll survive

you pause, setting your phone face down on your lap before letting out a yawn and leaning your head against the window

you got up far too early this morning and the gentle rumbling of the bus down the highway is very soothing

google maps said the journey to your stop was about 38 minutes which means you have approximately 35 minutes to take a quick nap and the remaining 3 minutes to wake yourself up so you won’t be too groggy after hopping off the bus

you’ve worked hard today, so you deserve a little snooze!

your right eye peels open when your phone buzzes again

from: jungkook (6:04pm) — Omg she’s here early

from: jungkook (6:04pm) — Okay

from: jungkook (6:04pm) — Wish me luck and also thank you for everything you are the best

a smile twitches at the corner of your mouth and you can’t help but think to yourself that yes, i am kind of the best, aren’t i?

to: jungkook (6:04pm) — yes yes

to: jungkook (6:04pm) — good luck!

to: jungkook (6:04pm)— :-)

another yawn slips past your lips and you tuck your phone into your purse before leaning your head against the window again and shutting your eyes

an additional benefit to getting some sleep on the bus is so that your brain won’t start to flood with reminders that jungkook doesn’t like you like that and that you are currently sitting on a bus going to get flowers for him to give to another girl-

okay, that’s enough of that, your teeth grit together slightly and you clear your throat, crossing one leg over the other as you get settled into the stiff, itchy seats, a quick power nap and then the overthinking can begin again.

»»————- ♥ ————-««

“excuse me-”

your eyes open immediately at the feeling of someone shaking your shoulder and you sit up straight, clutching your purse tighter to your body as you look up to see the bus driver smiling down at you in mild concern

“morning!” he jokes, raising an eyebrow before clicking his tongue and nodding towards the opened doors, “end of the line, miss. gonna have to ask you hop off.”

what?

in your half-asleep state you can’t help but wonder what you’re doing on a bus and where you were meant to be going in the first place… is the date over? are you heading home?

“end of the-“ your heart plummets to your stomach at the realization that you took more than just a little snooze because you are, in fact, at the end of the line when you were supposed to be at the flower shop and heading back to jungkook’s apartment now, “wait, end of the line?!”

“i’m guessing you missed your stop? happens a lot when people fall asleep on the bus.”

“i- yes-“ you pull your phone out to check the time (and your heart nearly stops beating when you see that it’s 7:13), “i was supposed to get off at crown street, how far are we from crown street?”

“not too far-“ the bus driver hums, “about fifteen-“

“minutes?” you get up from the seat, starting to make your way towards the door but still looking at the driver

“blocks.” he sucks some air in through his teeth, “fifteen blocks away. if you walk from here, it’ll probably take you about… twenty-ish minutes or so to get to the crown street stop-”

“twenty-ish minutes, twenty minutes is nothing, i can make it in ten if i sprint-“ you mutter to yourself, pulling your purse up over your shoulder and turning to smile at the bus driver before hopping off, “thank you, sir, enjoy the rest of your night-!”

it’s only a second later that you find yourself sprinting down the sidewalk, your runners smacking loudly against the concrete as you keep your purse tucked tightly underneath your armpit

unbelievable! something just had to go wrong tonight, didn’t it?

and it certainly doesn’t help that it’s drizzling right now — you don’t even have an umbrella with you!

“so stupid, shouldn’t have fallen asleep-“ you look up briefly when you hear a rumble of thunder, stopping at the crosswalk and slapping the button multiple times as if it’s going to make the walk sign appear faster, “c’mon, c’mon…”

you jolt when a flash of lightning lights up the sky before suddenly-

“oh, come ON!” rain suddenly starts to pour down from the sky and you resist the urge to just fall to the ground and completely give up because it seems like the universe is actively trying to tell you that what you’re doing is clownish behaviour and you need to stand up

of course, because one of your more prominent traits is your innate stubbornness, you pull your purse off your shoulder and raise it above your head as if it’s going to stop you from getting completely soaked

rainwater starts to flood into your shoes as you jog across the street and the feeling of your socks increasingly getting wet sends a shiver up your spine

you pull your purse back onto your shoulder and keep it tightly held under your armpit once your arms start to get sore — you’re already completely soaked so using your purse as an umbrella seems pretty redundant at this point

“don’t know why i didn’t bring a stupid umbrella with me either!” you huff to yourself, wiping your hair away from your face as you cross another street after looking both ways (safety first), “fall asleep on the bus, gets caught in the rain- stupid, stupid-“ you grumble, reaching up to wipe under your eyes and pressing your lips together in frustration at the wet mascara ink staining your fingertips

wonderful

just wonderful

and now you probably look demonic as well

you pick up in pace when you recognize the street the flower shop is on, speeding up even more when you notice someone standing in front of the doors with a set of keys in their hand looking very ready to close up shop for the night

“woah, woah, wait! wait, please!” you call out and the person immediately stops, looking over at you and then taking a few steps back in what seems to be mild fear, “so sorry, i just need to pick a bouquet up, i know you’re closing but i really need this bouquet- and-“

“did you run here?” he asks, looking you up and down as he adjusts his grip on his umbrella, “…you do know it’s raining, right?”

“yeah, i- woo, give me a second to catch my breath-“ you pant, bending over and putting both hands on your knees, wincing to yourself as your lungs constrict in your chest, “i don’t remember the last time i ran like this, jesus christ- i think i’m going to puke-“ you force yourself to stand up straight again, placing a hand on your hip as you continue to suck in puffs of air, “i need to pick up an order.”

“oh, wait! you’re the girl who’s in love with her friend, now i remember who you are-“ his eyes light up briefly before the deadpan expression returns to his face, “sorry, champ. we close at 7:30.”

“it’s 7:29,” you choose to ignore his first comment before holding your phone up to his face and he immediately deflates, “come on, yoongi- it’s yoongi, right? please. give me a break.”

“i’m just tryna go home-“

“please, my friend’s date is tonight and he was supposed to pick up his flowers this morning but then he went to the gym so he forgot even though there was a sticky note on the fridge reminding him to-”

“wait, you’re picking up his flowers for him?!” yoongi asks, eyes widening again before he throws his head back in a laugh, “hah! oh my god, you- you’re actually kidding me, this has to be a joke-“

“i will give you five glowing stars on google reviews if you let me in-“ you pant, wiping strands of wet hair away from your forehead again, squinting slightly because the rainwater has now fully fucked up your vision and yoongi is starting to look like a dark blob, “even though your customer service skills suck because you’re clearly laughing at me and i really thought you’d have the decency to share your umbrella considering the fact that it’s pouring-“

“my customer service skills are fantastic, you should see the way i flirt with all the older ladies who come in-” yoongi jingles his keys in his hands before checking the time on his watch, “they always leave with $15 silk ribbons on their bouquets and a boost in their self-esteem-“

“we’re wasting time here, i’m supposed to be back at my friend’s place like, now-“

“alright, fine.” yoongi sighs, shoving the keys back into the lock before clicking his tongue, “but i’m only doing this because i feel like saying no to you is equivalent to, like, leaving a puppy out in the cold or something. or stealing candy from a baby and then shoving the baby off of its high chair. or, like, taking a chainsaw and destroying a nice old lady’s rosebush in front of her for no reason while she’s standing there with a pitcher of iced tea for you-”

“alright, i get it, you pity me, just let me into the store and give me my damn order.”

“did you really run all the way here?” he asks, opening the door to let you in as he closes his umbrella and shakes the excess water off before shoving it into the holder

“i took the bus but i fell asleep and missed my stop. ended up at the end of the line and i thought running fifteen blocks would be faster than waiting for the next bus.” you breathe out, your shoes squeaking obnoxiously against the marble floors as you step into the shop and leave a generous trail of rainwater behind you

yoongi deflates slightly at the mess you’re leaving behind you and he quickly reaches out to grab onto your elbow, “do not take another step. i literally mopped up before closing and you’re leaving a trail everywhere.”

“sorry, sorry…” you apologize sheepishly, taking a step back closer to the front door and looking down at the puddle growing around your feet

you reach up to squeeze some water out of your air, freezing when you realize you’re just squeezing more water onto the ground for yoongi to mop up

yoongi gives you an unimpressed, blank stare before shaking his head and flicking the lights on, “there is nobody in the world i would ever run in the rain for. hell, there’s nobody i would even ever run for in general.”

“well, i’m sorry your heart is made out of literal ice and you don’t have the ability to feel love for another human being.” you respond sarcastically, yoongi turning around with raised eyebrows

“hey, for someone with an icy cold heart, i didn’t have to let you in, i could very well kick you out right now because i already clocked out for the night-”

“okay, sorry, i’m sorry- just- if i could just pick up the order, i’ll get out of your hair, i’m sorry-“

“why are you doing this in the first place?” yoongi asks as he gets settled behind the front desk, switching the monitor back on, “also, i promise i’m not stalling because i also want to get out of here as soon as possible, i just need to check what your order number is-“

“because jungkook forgot to pick the order up this morning.” you respond as if it’s the most obvious answer in the entire world (because to you, it kind of is)

“well, i get that, but you still didn’t answer the question.” yoongi hums, tapping on the keyboard and hitting the enter key obnoxiously

“sure, i did.” you frown, “i answered your question. i’m here because jungkook forgot to pick up the order this morning. he’s on his date right now and i told him i could pick it up for him. he’s on a date.”

“with another girl.” yoongi murmurs, propping his chin up on his palm, “you are picking up flowers for jungkook to give to another girl because…”

“because i’m his friend.” you feel your eye twitch slightly out of a mixture of growing frustration and impatience, “you have that order number yet? i’m on a time crunch here.”

“…okay, i think all the rainwater must’ve flushed the logic out of your head…” yoongi purses his lips as he gets up from the seat, offering you an overly polite customer service smile, “please wait here while i get your order from the back. i would offer you a glass of cucumber water and an apple rose whatever cinnamon pastry thing but we are technically closed, so you’re just going to have to stand here and wait.”

“funny.” you raise an eyebrow, about to squeeze some water out of your top before stopping yourself (you’ll wait until yoongi disappears to the back and then you’ll do it)

you’re picking up flowers for jungkook because you’re his friend

and on top of that, not only are you his friend, you’re a very good friend of his!

he would do the same for you if the roles were reversed (well, if the roles were reversed, you would’ve never forgotten to pick up the flowers so jungkook would never have to run in the rain to pick them up for you)

what does yoongi mean by why are you doing this?

isn’t it obvious??

if anything, he’s the one with no logic in his head if he can’t grasp the simple answer to his simple question

you’re doing this because you’re jungkook’s friend, and this is what friends do when they care about each other

“okay, one more time- what are you doing right now?” yoongi pops out from the back with a beautifully wrapped bouquet and an adorable little white teddy bear with a pink heart as its nose and you can’t help but pout sweetly at it

you know you said the teddy bear would be a little much but looking at it now… you want one too!

“picking up a bouquet and a teddy bear.” you point out, holding your hands out to take them from yoongi

“picking up a bouquet and a teddy bear for…”

“for my friend…” you trail off, making grabby hands at him only for him to pull back slightly

“for your friend jungkook because…”

“why do you care so much about this? you don’t know me and what i do is none of your business, your job right now is to hand me a bouquet and that teddy bear and you’re not doing a super good job if i’m being honest-”

“you’re right, i don’t know you, but i’m nosy as hell and you seem nice even though you’re oblivious as hell- you’re so close to the answer, too! what are you doing right now and why are you doing what you’re doing?”

“what are you doing right now? and why are you doing what you’re doing right now??” you snap, looking at the little clock sitting on the desk, “i’m running very late, just give me the damn flowers, man-“

“alright, fine.” yoongi deflates, handing you the bouquet and the little bear before shaking his head and turning around to grab the mop from the back, “guess you’ll figure out the answer on your own. by the way, let your friend know that if he wants to order another bouquet for you to pick up that we now have an online ordering form so he doesn’t even have to come in store anymore- by the way, i can lend you an umbrella if you didn’t wanna run in the rain again because like i said, our customer service is-” yoongi spins around and immediately clams up when the only indication that you were even here at all are the two dirty shoe marks staining the white marble floor and the puddle of water around them

he shrugs to himself and clicks his tongue

oh well

…you still better give the store a five star review.

»»————- ♥ ————-««

the journey back to jungkook’s apartment is a little less chaotic than the journey leaving his place, thankfully

you managed to get to the bus stop right as the bus came, and if anything, you took that as a sign that the universe was now on your side

it was rewarding you for being such a good friend!

of course, you still got caught in the thunderstorm jogging back to jungkook’s building from the bus stop (according to the forecast, it’s supposed to rain all night long) and the bouquet is a little soggy and the little bear’s fur is kind of matted now, but you tried your best to keep them dry under your sopping wet jacket, “alright, kook, don’t worry, i’m coming-“ you mutter, going up the stairs two at a time and ignoring the fact that you’re leaving a wet trail behind you

you can’t help but shiver at the feeling of cold, wet clothes clinging uncomfortably to your body, pausing when you accidentally use the bear as a makeshift towel to dry your face

“shit, whoops-“ you pull the bear away instantly, relieved to see that you didn’t leave any streaks of makeup on it

your legs slow down as you reach the steps leading up towards the door to the rooftop, and you pause at the top of the steps when you hear a melodic giggle from outside amongst the rhythmic pitter patter of chubby raindrops splashing against the cement

sucking your bottom lip in between your teeth as you slow your movements as to not make too much noise and ruin the moment, you press yourself against the side of the stairwell and crouch down on your hands and knees, placing the bouquet on the ground by the door and the little bear right next to it

the only thing to do now is turn back and head home before you catch a cold from staying in your sopping wet clothes, but the sound of jungkook’s laugh makes your ears perk up and soon enough, you find yourself crawling up the additional three steps up so you can peek through the crack between the door and the frame and-

kissing

almost instantly, your mouth goes dry and you feel a sharp pinch in your chest at the sight of jungkook and ji-eun kissing, their lips seeming to slot together perfectly as ji-eun curls up closer to jungkook and he reaches up to cup the side of her face, the two of them looking nice and warm (and dry) in the bubble tent as raindrops continue to bounce off the top of it

your eyelids flutter slightly as your brain catches up to what you’re looking at, and just like that, everything hits you like a ton of bricks

what the fuck am i doing?

you are crouched down in the stairwell like a creep, sopping wet from the heavy rain, still exhausted from sprinting fifteen blocks to get to the stupid flower shop before it closed, staring at the boy you love kissing someone else on a rooftop that you spent all day decorating and setting up

you look down towards the bouquet and bear, swallowing the lump in your throat as your eyes begin to glaze over because oh my god, what are you doing?

the bouquet of flowers is not for you

the cute little bear is not for you

the bubble tent and the fairy lights and the porcelain plates and fancy cutlery — all of it isn’t for you, it’s for someone else, it’s for ji-eun

ji-eun is the one that’s kissing jungkook right now, not you

in fact, it’ll never be you because jungkook doesn’t like you

you turn around so you can sit on the steps properly, folding your arms over the tops of your knees and propping your chin up on top of them

jungkook does not like you back

you helped him plan this date and you helped him set up the rooftop for his romantic date with ji-eun and you ironed his shirt and you ran in the rain to get the bouquet and the bear not just because you’re a good friend — you did all of this because you are hopelessly, hopelessly in love with jungkook and you would pluck all the stars in the sky for him and put them in a jar if he’d asked

“oh my god, y/n.” you breathe out, pinching the bridge of your nose as you shake your head in dejection, “what the fuck are you doing?”

you feel that all too familiar prickle in your nose as you get up onto your feet and head down the steps one by one, your heart heavy in your chest as you adjust the strap of your purse over your shoulder

(and as you stare up at the ceiling when you’re in bed later that night after taking a nice, hot shower and shoving your cold, wet clothes into the hamper, you can’t help but wonder if perhaps you’ll be pining after jungkook for the rest of your life.)

»»————- ♥ ————-««

from: jungkook (1:08am) — Thanks for getting the flowers and the bear for me you’re a lifesaver

from: jungkook (1:08am) — Like actually the best

from: jungkook (1:08am) — So grateful to have a friend as good as you

from: jungkook (1:09am) —The date went really well btw

from: jungkook (1:09am) — Hope you’re sleeping well :) Will text you tomorrow

🎙️ tell yoongi to mind his own business or console y/n (talk to my characters!)

📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (full fics!)

💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series like smitten!)

🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!)

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usedtobecooler · 2 years

Text

Pairing | Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), DUBCON, dark themes, monster fucking, cunnilingus, fingering f receiving, piv sex, unprotected sex, mild anal play f receiving, dirty talking, degradation, squirting, crying, pussy slapping, spanking, face slapping, creampie, praise kink, biting, blood play, blood kink, no aftercare.

Word Count | 3.7k

A/N | just a lil something since it's halloween, it's only fair we delve into something a bit spooky and out of the ordinary. can't lie i've mortified myself this time but i'm so into it.

"Where have you been all my life?" A figure slides up beside you where you stand at the drinks table, cup in hand filled with some gross 'Halloween Punch' that Harrington had promised tasted good (it didn't), some shitty Blondie tune playing loud in the background, mostly drowned out by the rowdy noise of the party.

You turn your head to glance at said figure, to find Eddie Munson standing there with a smirk on his red stained lips. He's a vampire (you think?), albeit a fantastic one. You had to admit his costume was great as you drank in his appearance. He really had gone all out, red horns poking out from beneath his bangs, large black bat wings fanned out across his back, fingers dusted charcoal and he'd even gone to the trouble of sticking on impossibly long talon-like nails.

His actual outfit could be considered normal, a black button down silk shirt on his torso, two buttons open to reveal a chain dangling from his neck, what looked to be fake bite marks chomped into the surrounding skin. A simple pair of ripped jeans and white trainers to finish the look off, but you could forgive him for the lack of detail in the actual clothes with how good his prosthetics were.

"What are you supposed to be?" You ask, furrowed brows as you brush your hand out to touch his wings, feeling the soft, leathery texture under your fingertips. It feels expensive, which was weird because you were so sure Eddie was dirt poor. Maybe you were wrong.

"I suppose you could call me a vampire-bat hybrid?" Eddie smirks, and you bite your glossy red lip when you see the two crystal white fangs sparkle in the light. Fangs had always done it for you, really, there was something about vampires that got you all hot and bothered.

"Looks good," You say eventually, voice strained as you bring your cup up to your mouth and swig a little of the absolutely vile concoction. You screw your face up in disgust as you swallow, trying to ignore the way the liquid almost comes back up as fast as it goes down.

Eddie crowds into your space, leaning over you to grab a bottle of Bud sat just inches from where you were. Your breath hitches at the feeling of him so close to you, his scent and the cold coming from his body enough to make you feel dizzy.

There was something off about him that you couldn't quite pinpoint. You admittedly hadn't seen Eddie Munson since you graduated in '84 and left Hawkins rather abruptly to study across the country. But you remembered him being a little warmer than this, a little shyer, a little more human.

You stand there awkwardly for a moment longer before excusing yourself to the bathroom, feigning that you needed to rearrange your costume - a party city zombie cheerleader outfit, not exactly enough to leave much to the imagination, and not really an outfit that needed fixing, but Eddie takes your word for it, and you bounce off without another word.

Knowing Steve well enough, you sneak into his room to use his own private bathroom, any party goers being schmucks and using the main bathroom that had a queue the size of Hawkins outside of it. You were surprised he wasn't in there himself with some girl, the room completely void of human life.

You give yourself a second, brushing out your skirt and pulling your ponytail tight. The costume wasn't a far cry from your days at Hawkins High, you were an it girl in those days after all. Not head cheerleader, but on the team - people had liked you more for other reasons.

You unclick the lock on the bathroom door, pulling it open to come face to face with the person you'd ran away from. You jump out of your skin a little, Eddie's face lit up with a little smirk at the reaction he elicits from you. You furrow your brows and shut the door behind you, making to leave without a word, but he won't let you.

It truly was dizzying being up this close to Eddie, his body crowding in on yours and backing you up against Steve's door, and you swear you see his wings curl in too but that could be from the one too many drinks you'd plied yourself with.

"Are you scared of me?" Eddie asks, picking up on the way your heart races and thuds loudly beneath your ribcage, making his fangs ache and his head cloudy with need to sink in and taste the wet, metallic gush of your blood.

"N-no," You stutter, head lulling to the side a little to invite him in, to let him nuzzle his nose in and smell you properly, which he does so gratefully, the pointed edges of his fangs sliding out to graze at your goosebump riddled skin, making you shiver, "does... does anybody know?"

Eddie huffs out a little laugh against your skin, fangs disappearing so he can press a sweet kiss to your neck, "Know what? Do you think there's something wrong with me?"

You gasp out loud at the feeling of Eddie's lips on you, the way his big hands come out to grasp at your hips and hold you in place, "I don't - I don't know, Eddie. You don't seem like yourself. You're not the guy I remember."

Your head is hazy, a mixture of alcohol and whatever weird spell Eddie was putting on you enough to have you confused and doubting yourself. Maybe you truly were just crazy and making this up in your drunk brain, but you were almost positive you knew what was going on here. It terrified you, and you wanted to back away, but it was like your feet were planted firmly in their place, glued down and rendering you unable to run.

Eddie smirks against your neck, hand running from your hip to brazenly slide under your skirt, and you can't help but notice his nails have somehow disappeared, soft pads of his fingers running along your clothed folds, "Your soaking wet pussy tells me you like this though, sweetheart. So wet you're drenching your panties for me."

You shiver, a moan escaping your lips as he moves your panties to the side, exposing your cunt to the cool air. His cold fingers expertly find your clit right away, rubbing it in slow, hard circles that have you mewling.

Your whole body feels like it's on fire, a sensation you've never felt as Eddie assaults your cunt with his fingertips, you're trapped in a trance that you can't pull yourself out of, all of your senses rushing with Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

Your hands come out to grip at his hair, fingertips accidentally knocking one of his horns and he growls, snapping back from his place in your neck to stare you down with hard eyes, fingertips stuttering on your clit and suddenly he's slapping your cunt hard. You let out a shocked, high-pitched moan at the harsh sting vibrating through your folds and your bundle of nerves, leaving you in a cold sweat and your legs almost buckling.

"Hands to your fucking self, I'm in charge here." Eddie's voice is quiet, but his words come out so harsh and venomous that it frightens you, though your cunt clenches uncontrollably, like it has a mind of its own, "Go lie on the fucking bed and spread your legs like the whore you are."

You do it wordlessly and without question, your legs moving before your brain can comprehend it, like you're under a spell. At this point, you're wondering if you are, because the real you wasn't like this - she doesn't let herself be bossed around, she doesn't allow men to touch her without her say so. You know it's bad, yet you can't stop it, because it doesn't feel wrong in the way it should.

Steve's bed is big and plush, nothing less could be expected of him really, and you sink into it, propping yourself up on your elbows so you didn't feel so vulnerable, spreading your legs wide like Eddie commanded of you. He creeps towards you like a predator stalking his prey, his dark eyes almost black now and something behind them that you can't quite pinpoint.

In the dim light Eddie's skin appears to be flushed a deep red that almost looks supernatural, like he'd covered himself in oil paints. He grabs a tight hold of your ankles and pulls them, yanking you down the bed until your ass is almost over the edge. You watch him in awe as he kneels on the floor in front of you, head going under your short skirt.

"You won't be needing these." He mutters against the insides of your thighs, then you feel and hear him ripping at the lacey material of your panties. They fall in tatters to the floor, discarded to be long forgotten about.

You gasp as he plants wet, sloppy kisses to the insides of your thighs, and you feel the points of his fangs brush the skin just hard enough to feel like a papercut. Your fingers clench into the sheets, blown away by how even the slightest touch has you a wet, whimpering mess for him.

"Your cunt smells so fuckin' good," Eddie groans, nestling his nose in between your folds and inhaling deep, "so sweet, just like the rest of you. Good enough to eat."

"Wha-" Your voice dies in your throat as Eddie's long pointed tongue comes out to lick a stripe up the seam of your pussy. He finds your clit as fast with his tongue as he did with his fingers, latching on and suckling at it hard.

The noises escaping you are sad and pathetic, truly, for all it is he's actually doing. You're moaning like you'd never been touched in your life, begging and pleading, "Eddie, please, fuck."

Your hips buck into his face of their own accord and Eddie growls against your cunt, his big hand coming up to shove your hips back down, forearm laying across the width of your pelvis to hold them down so you couldn't move. You can't even focus enough to brace yourself for two of his fingers from the opposite hand circling your entrance and sliding in to the hilt until it's too late.

The slick sounds of your wet cunt being assaulted by Eddie's mouth and fingers fill your senses, making you gush even wetter and clench around his thick fingers. They're so deep you can feel his rings catching on your hole and breaching slightly, it's enough to have you feeling dizzy with want and need.

Your arms finally give out and you fall flat against the bed, mewling and eyes pricking wet with tears as the pads of Eddie's fingers run along your spongey spot and don't let up. You can feel your orgasm building quickly, tummy winding tight and the hot heat spreading through your whole body.

Eddie's mouth is utterly sinful, his tongue working your clit expertly like he'd done this a thousand times before, like something straight out of a porn flick. Your body succumbs to him like you're his for the taking, like his fingers were meant to be buried deep in your cunt forever and his mouth was made specifically for you.

You come so hot and fast you're crying, sobbing wetly, moaning and thrashing uselessly as Eddie's fingers are forced out of you from the sheer power of it - all he does is bury his face harder in your cunt in retaliation. You gush wet and hard enough that you hear it trickling onto the hardwood floor in front of Eddie's knees, feel it run down your ass.

Eddie licks you clean, sharp tongue running all the way down to your asshole and even sucking you dry there, big hands moving to spread your cheeks and shove his face in. In your state you can't find it in you to be embarrassed or feel disgusted, your body feeling like jelly and placid enough that Eddie could do whatever he wanted and get away with it.

You're so out of it that you don't realise Eddie moving you up the bed and tearing your shirt off until he's hovering between your legs and your tits are on full display. He leans down to lick and bite at the round of your left breast, his large hand grabbing the other and kneading it. His wings are encasing you both now, enough to shield you from view if anyone were to walk in.

The wetness of your tears roll down the sides of your face and pool in your ears and hair. Somewhere in your subconscious you're begging him to stop, but your body is keening into him, and your lips betray you with the noises of content that fall from them.

You make to lift your hands up to shove him away, but Eddie's reflexes are incredible and his own hands come out to grasp at your wrists and force them down onto the bed, holding you down tightly. You try to thrash around but it dies when Eddie bares his fangs and sinks them into the flesh of your tit.

The feeling that overcomes you is something you'd never felt before, your body flushes hot like you have a high fever, your skin prickling with want as your tummy coiled up in knots. Eddie drinks from you in silence, the only noises to be heard are the slight slurp of wetness from your dripping blood and the moans escaping your lips.

You come again. Hard, hot and fast. Not a single part of Eddie's body near your cunt, yet you're shuddering and gushing wet on the bed, enough to soak the comforter beneath your legs and ass.

It feels wrong, your pussy clenching around nothing and your body wracking with aftershocks. Eddie's fangs retract and he's smirking against your skin, tongue lapping up the blood still trickling from the wounds on your breast.

"Dirty fuckin' slut, coming just from my fangs in you. You're so fucking easy for it, what a silly little girl." Eddie laughs at you and you're crying again, squeezing your eyes shut as he mocks you, but you like it, you're so ashamed you can't stop the tears from falling.

Eddie roughly grips your chin, shaking you a little until you open your eyes. You're mortified by the sight in front of you, your blood dripping down Eddie's chin and neck, spreading down the open neck of his shirt.

He looks like a monster, the facade gone and his true form on display in all of its glory. He looks deranged, eyes as black as the Devil's, skin flushed crimson and his fangs on full display. The only thing reminding you that it's Eddie perched in front of you is his curly hair, looking out of place on his body. You should be scared, turned off, trying to back out of the door and run for your life.

Yet, you still lie there, with your legs spread for him and refusing to budge. You hazard letting your hands come out to grasp at his silk shirt and he surprisingly lets you, lets you unbutton it with nimble fingers until the front is open and exposing the bites in his toned chest and stomach.

Something had done a number on him; you know that much. Chunks of flesh are missing, deep enough that he should be dead. Through the fog of your brain, you're aware now more than ever that he probably is in fact dead - the undead.

Time was a mere concept to you in your hazy state, as you watch Eddie unbuckle the belt on his jeans, sliding them down his thighs with his underwear to expose himself, hard cock springing out into the cool air, making him hiss.

You shoot up from your place on the bed, sitting up properly to get a good look at what was in front of you.

It was like nothing you'd ever seen in your life.

It was a dick, that much was obvious, clearly. But it matched the rest of his undead body, flushed deep red from base to tip. Where there should've been veins, there were now symmetrical ridges, all the way down to the fat head. The head itself was curved upwards, almost like it was made for stroking a gspot.

And, to put it bluntly, it was fucking huge. Your mouth watered uncontrollably, the urge to reach out and touch it tugging at your gut.

Eddie reaches out and slaps you with a flat palm against your cheek, the connection loud enough to snap you out of your trance, "I said, get up on your knees. Be a good girl and ride me."

Your body moves subconsciously, trading places with Eddie and swinging your leg over so you were hovering just above his hard cock. You couldn't stop yourself even if you wanted to. At this point, you're so far gone that even the voice niggling at the back of your head had died down, leaving you a wanton, submissive mess.

He makes the first move, grabbing his cock by the base and running the head between your folds, getting himself nice and wet. Eddie makes no noise as an indicator as to whether he's genuinely enjoying this or not, just breaches your cunt with the tip until you're gasping and rocking your hips a little.

It's wide, a ridiculous stretch that you're not used to and probably could never get used to. Eddie grips onto your ass with his free hand, slapping it hard enough that you slide down another inch, your back arching a little and tears forming in your eyes.

"Little baby can't take my cock, how cute," Eddie's voice is condescending, mocking you enough to have your cunt clench around him, eliciting a hiss from his lips, "you're gonna take it all like a good fuckin' girl, aren't you?"

Another slap to your ass has you sliding down again, taking in another inch. You can feel every ridge of his cock, every weird texture, the fat bulb of the head already abusing your soft spot. It hurt, but it hurt so good, like you were being stretched apart from the inside.

Eddie grows impatient at how slow you're going, grabbing a tight hold of your hips and impaling you on the last of his cock until you're screaming, fingertips gripping at his mauled shoulders as you cry, cunt gripping sporadically around the length of him.

You feel so full it's pathetic, if you poked your tummy you'd be able to feel him nestled in your stomach. Could probably see it if you wanted to hazard a glance down.

"You're such a whiny little thing, aren't you? Crying for me," Eddie coos, bucking his hips up a little for emphasis until you're biting out a wet sob, "your little sobs sound like music in my ears, sweetheart."

He doesn't let you become accustomed to the size of his cock in you, lifting your hips up as if you're weightless and shoving you back down to the hilt. You moan in between your cries, body going lax in his hands as you let him do what he wants with you.

Eddie's demeanor breaks eventually and he moans into the expanse of your throat, massive cock fucking into you relentlessly from below and there's nothing you can do but take it, feeling every bit of him consuming your body, "Such a good little slut for me, taking my monster cock so well. You love it, huh? Love being treated like a little fuck toy."

You nod, tears streaming consistently, "Y-yes, Eddie. F-fuck, m'so full." You cry out, the sounds of your soaking wet cunt sucking his cock in making you clench impossibly tighter around him, "Bite me again, aah, wanna come again, please."

Your wet sobs are almost enough to have Eddie folding, sinking his teeth into you without a second thought, but instead his large hand comes up to grab your ponytail, pulling your head back until you're looking at the ceiling as his hips snap up into your own, "Scream a bit louder. Want everyone at this party to hear you cry and beg for me."

The head of Eddie's cock is relentless on your spongey spot, his hips snapping into yours hard enough you're going to be left with so many bruises, "Eddie!" Your voice is primal, you'd never heard yourself sound like this before, "Pleasepleaseplease, m'begging, let me come."

"Atta girl, begging for me all sweet." Eddie smirks, pulling your ponytail impossibly tighter until your back is arched, he leans over and bites into your neck, sinking his fangs in to the hilt as his hips continue to fuck up into you, the brutal assault feeling like it's never ending.

The hot waves of pleasure wash over you so quick you barely comprehend it, the feeling of Eddie feeding from your veins making your cunt clench around his cock as you come again, squirting wet and hot all over him, drenching his balls and his thighs.

Eddie shoves you onto your back without pulling out, driving into you deep and impossibly fast with his fangs still in your throat. He comes not long after, succumbing to the feeling of your tight pussy and your hot blood dripping down his throat, a deep groan escaping him as he buried himself in to the hilt as your clenching cunt helped work him through, "You're mine now, sweetheart. Don't think I'm done with you, I'll be back."

You pass out with his words swimming in your head, for how long you're unsure, but when you wake up Eddie is gone, the fog that clouded your brain leaving with him.

Your aching neck, leaking cunt and bruised body the only reminder he was ever there.

You wonder if he meant it, if you truly would ever see him again.

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mitsies · 5 months

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❊ a night to remember - dazai osamu . . you're a barista in the middle of a turf war. dazai is assigned to babysit.

the café you work at is nowhere near 'fantastic,' like the critics acclaim.

it's situated on a busy street corner, right next to an even busier airport. this draws an unfortunately large amount of new customers. you cringe thinking about the poor foreigners, unable or unwilling to purchase overpriced airport cuisine, who find refuge (and a meal) at your workplace. it must be an awful first experience in the country, you think.

despite the wealth your employers must've accumulated from an ever-rotating customer base, you don't think a single dime has ever gone towards improving the place. the outside seems nice enough, but the appliances are hardly functional. paint peels off the walls in the back, and the windows have long since been sealed shut. it gets way too hot in the summer. tables are rickety and every time someone takes a seat, you fear for their life. a small hole in the wall exists right by the entrance to the back, and sometimes when you go to close shop you hear skittering (which you pray is a mouse and not a ghost.) the good part about this, though, is that a little cat frequents your block around nighttime. she's the only reason you enjoy working at the joint, really, especially since it's open so unusually late, meaning you have to work stupid hours. who needs coffee and sandwiches at 10 at night?

you wonder how your shoddy little place of work has passed a single health inspection. you also wonder how you're still alive, because you're pretty sure that there is black mold growing in the storeroom. that, and the fact that you're all too often worked to the bone. your boss never does much, and your coworkers, though lovely people, take way too many sick days to be normal. you think the black mold may have gotten them. either that or they're lazy and love to see you suffer. more often than not, you're the only one working the busy café all day. that place would be a mess if it weren't for you, you like to believe.

it's an unusually slow night when the cat comes by to visit. she's a little thing, with a fluffy grey body and tiny white paws. her nose is a black button framed by white fur and long whiskers. you call her misty, like the character from pokémon.

you haven't gotten a customer in a while. you suspect it's because of the bad weather; your usual clientele of travelers are all seeking shelter within the airport, not daring to venture out quite yet. misty herself is dripping water all over the entrance of the café, but she's too cute for you to care. you walk out from behind the counter to pet her with the back of your hand. your skin comes away damp and covered in a thin layer of cat fur, which is a little gross but you've seen worse while working here. she meows. from your place by the door, you can see outside to the rain-soaked sidewalk. hard droplets of water pelt down like hail, staining the world a shade darker. you grimace, because there's no way you can walk home in this downpour.

"what do i do now, misty?" you stoop down to stroke the cat a little more. she purrs a little, and her long fur continues to stick to your hand in its dampness. nasty.

standing back up, you make your way to the back of the shop to rinse your hands in the sink. you aren't expecting anyone to come in at this point, not when it's this late, and not in this weather. you are proven very wrong when you hear the door creak open, and misty's meow before she scampers away to a far corner of the store.

plastering your best customer service smile on your face, you look up and move to the counter to greet the new arrival. you expect them to be a particularly brave traveler, and you imagine the mess of rainwater you'd later have to mop up off the floor. you are, however, pleasantly surprised by the sight of one of your favourite regulars. "oda!"

he's usually not in this late. but he gives you a small kind of smile as he closes the umbrella he holds and stores it in the designated area, bless him. you, to this day, wonder why he chooses to come to this raggedy little shop enough to be considered a regular. the coffee isn't that good, and the pastries are always a little dry, in your opinion. plus, it's just gross. maybe you're just a hypochondriac, though, because oda seems like a smart and sensible man who would not come to a café that would give him diseases. probably. you hope.

he's a kind, quiet person. you don't know much about him, if anything at all. he's got your name memorised and always greets you, and he tips well, and he asks about your day sometimes. you think he's sweet. maybe not smart, actually, if he keeps coming back. or maybe he's a health advisor coming to collect evidence to shut the place down— oh, you could only hope this is true.

misty, upon realising it's just oda, walks her little feet back over towards the entrance. the tall man bends over to pet the little cat, and for the first time, you catch sight of another person behind him. a boy. he's tall, or at least taller than you. but he doesn't look like much. a set of spindly limbs, bandages covering one eye, while the other is sunken and tired. a coat hangs loosely from his shoulders. you wonder if he's been eating enough. in a flash, though, his eyes connect with yours. it's brief, and awkward, and he stares straight into you like he can see through your skull into your thoughts. a shiver runs down your spine. he might look your age but there is something about him that tells you he has been around far too long, and seen enough for lifetimes. oda stands back up, cutting your view of the boy off. you readjust, trying to shake off the uncanny veil that's just descended on your little store. "your usual, oda?"

he smiles again. "please. thank you."

you dare look at the boy again. "and anything for you, sir?"

his gaze flickers back towards you. it's less heavy than before, but still, a force resides behind it. he hums and smiles. it seems hollow. you try to pay it no mind. "nope."

you nod briskly and go about preparing oda's drink. in your periphery, you watch the pair settle down by a table on the side wall of the shop, right against a big window. oda's back is facing you and you can feel his companion's eyes following your moves every so often. you try your best to ignore it, the way his eyes carry a pressure that drills into your skull.

it's 8:07 at night when oda gets a call. you aren't eavesdropping, but you don't miss the furrow of his brows and the vacancy that passes through his eyes. he'd probably leave soon. you purse your lips; might as well close once these two leave. they came in half an hour ago, and not a single soul had even passed out the door since.

sure enough, oda stands. he fishes around in his wallet for a crisp bill— another reason why he was your favourite regular, his tips never fell short— and gives you a polite, tight-lipped smile. the mystery boy follows suit. he doesn't spare you a glance, though, not until oda halts at the door as if something's just occurred to him. he turns back to the counter and calls your name. you look up from where you were wiping down some ancient appliances. "everything okay?"

he nods, and his head involuntarily falls to the side inquisitively. "how are you getting home tonight?"

you grimace. "i'm walking."

oda and the mystery boy exchange a look. you presume it's the heavy rain they're concerned about, so you pipe back in: "it's okay, though! i have a spare coat in the back. i think."

the boy gives you another look. like you're an idiot, like he knows something you don't. you'd wonder what was going on, but that was likely above your pay grade.

oda turns back to his companion. you hear them exchange words quietly, quiet enough to be drowned out by the rain still pouring outside. they are discussing far too intensely for it to be just about the rain. at the end of the spirited conversation, oda looks resolved, and the boy looks.. upset? disgruntled? he looks more his age, that's for sure. younger, even, like a petulant child. you would laugh if you weren't so on edge.

something is off. it's like the air in the shop has suddenly grown heavier by a hundred tons. it's suffocating. you are more excited than usual to close early and go home once these two finally make their exit. but then the boy sits back down. you fight the frown growing on your face.

oda is still standing. he takes the umbrella by the door and taps it against the entrance matt. clear flecks of rainwater fall down into the fabric like a small scale version of the downpour outside. he turns back to the boy, and then swivels to face you with a small, polite smile. "thank you for the drink. i hope you don't mind that my friend dazai is staying here for a while to avoid the rain."

you want to die. staying at your place of work for the next few hours until the official closing did not seem like an ideal night. mentally you mourn the night you planned to have when you got home early; goodbye to your cozy blanket, and warm bed, and movie and popcorn. but making coffee isn't that hard and you're basically paid to be nice and stay up late, so you just smile back and say, "no problem! we close at 10, and it'll probably have calmed down by then. probably."

oda nods and walks back out the door. misty meows at his heels, until he's out from under the overhang and gone from sight. faintly, you can see his silhouette blue-lit beneath streetlights, only if you squint. after a few beats, even the shadow of the man is gone.

you slump back down onto the counter, and then slide back up because you'd just cleaned it and now you'd have to do it again. a resigned sigh escapes past your lips, and you look up to see that the boy is looking at you. what was his name again? dazai? you somehow manage a nice-enough smile, looking back into his hollow eyes. he remains expressionless; it unnerves you, like a glass of cold water down your back. awkwardly, you begin, "do you... want anything to drink now? or eat? i'm going to have to throw all these out soon."

his heavy stare leaves you for only a second as you gesture vaguely to the display case of pastries. he looks like he considers it for a second before he smiles and says, "a chocolate croissant seems good!"

it's uncanny, the way the hollows of his eyes misalign with the tone of his voice. he sounds happy. he sounds young. but the way his joy is displayed is strange. it's a mirror. like he's only watched other people be kind and learned to imitate. as if he's pretending to be human. you can't look into his eyes anymore. instead, you turn to warm up the pastry without words.

when you move to bring the pastry to his table, you find dazai surveying the glass door, as if he is mesmerised by the rain still falling in heavy torrents. your plan is, originally, to slide the treat in front of him, smile and say nothing, and speedwalk away back to the counter and pretend to be busy cleaning until the stranger either a), leaves, or b), the rain stops and you can get out of here. however, it seems that misty has other plans. in a motion that you're sure she intends to be a show of affection and not a ploy to humiliate you, she runs in front of your legs and headbutts your ankle, causing you to trip over. you land with a less-than-gracious huff, and barely manage to pull yourself up from your stomach to your knees before you feel dazai's eyes back on you.

there is a small smile on his face, that creases his visible eye. you frown ruefully, and move to rise and apologize for the disruption. but to your surprise, he stands to help you up. his extended hand is slim. he has thin fingers, like wire, and a wrist wrapped in fresh, white bandages that show through his white button-down. his hands are just as cold as they look.

"graceful," he comments as he pulls you up. you purse your lips, choosing to ignore his comment.

"i'm sorry. i'll remake your food."

he considers you for a moment, looking you up and down. suddenly, you feel very seen. in a strange, unfamiliar way. you hope your apron isn't askew or messy. you hope you don't look as frazzled as you feel. why do you hope that?

"no worries!" and thank god he says that, because you truly are not in the mood to be doing much of anything. but you ask the obligatory, 'are you sure?' to which he just says, 'i'm sure,' so the whole conversation was redundant, really. shifting back to behind the counter, you begin to clean out the display case. and you're really finding yourself in a cleaning flow until dazai's voice breaks through your haze. he says your name. you're confused as to how he knows your name, until you realise you wear a nametag, and then you're just a little embarrassed as you reply, "yes?"

"does oda come here often?"

you glance up at him while wiping a shelf with a rag. he's not looking at you, rather staring back out into the rain. misty is approaching his table. she's usually shy; you wonder if she will let him pet her.

"often enough. he's usually here once or twice a week. never usually this late, though."

at your response, you see out of the corner of your eye as dazai shifts to face you, transfixed on the methodical motions of your hands cleansing the mess of the counter. he hums, "really?"

"yeah. he's one of my favourite regulars." and you almost leave it at that but your curiosity gets the better of you, and you ask, "what are you both doing out here at this time, anyways?"

dazai considers you. then he turns back away with a ghost of a smile. "business calls."

you can't help the look that crosses your face. what a tasteless answer. so dramatic. and then, something clicks. you blink. your area was under port mafia protection and recently, a rival group has been posing threats to it. it's never affected you, always in the western district of your area, so you've never really paid it much mind. you blink. so, this boy was affiliated with those groups. either the mafia or the rebels, but you're inclined to believe that it's the former because of his crypticness and the sheer amount of black he wears. (you're honestly a little surprised you didn't clock this sooner. no normal people dress like that.) your neurons are firing at a rapid pace, making connections. so... was oda in the port mafia too? your eye twitches. you have been serving a mafioso black coffee and almond muffins for months without knowing.

when you finally look back at dazai, he's watching you again. there's something like curiosity painting his expression, more than you've seen from the boy since he walked in. you're maybe perhaps a little shellshocked so all you can manage to ask is, "am i in trouble?"

he laughs an echoey, hollow laugh. you're embarrassed but also a little indignant because you think you have a right to know, maybe. "you haven't done anything. as long as i'm here you'll be fine."

your eye twitches again.

"so i am in trouble, then."

dazai frowns. "you have such little faith."

for a split-second you forget that he is a member of the most dangerous organization in all of yokohama and not just a boy your age, as you retort, "it's hard to have trust when the person left in charge of my safety looks like he weighs the same as my cat."

misty meows as if she understands you. dazai blinks. you blink back, before adding a tasteful, albeit a little uncomfortable, "with all due respect. sir."

and he smiles. it's a familiar one. faint smile lines appear, his left cheek creases deeply enough to dimple. it's a real, earnest smile. he looks young and alive like the boys at your school. he's cute, almost. you can't help but smile back, just a little. suddenly, you're thinking about his hand again, and how it felt in yours. you turn away with a light exhale and busy yourself with wiping down cases again.

"oda told me that he 'appreciated your sardonicism,'" dazai muses, "and i didn't know what he meant until now."

you turn the sink on and begin to sponge down various mugs. "thank you, i think."

"you're welcome."

menial conversation follows. dazai asks about your work, and you're glad he chose this topic, because really, you could complain about this establishment for hours if someone gave you the opportunity. he listens intently as you talk about your coworkers and manager, the abysmal pay, and the ghastly sanitary standards of the place. to this topic, dazai glances around and questions you.

"maybe you're a hypochondriac," he says, "it looks clean enough to me."

you stare at him, hands still in the sink, covered in suds. you blink. was he blind?

you're about to respond, when the door opens. you glance at the clock; 9:48. twelve minutes before closing. you're about to try and muster up the last of your energy to be the best barista you can be before dazai speaks first. "oda. you're back early."

thank god it's oda. you look up to see misty run to him purring, as he puts his umbrella down. "we finished up the..." he glances carefully up to you, "business early."

dazai waves a hand dismissively. "they know."

oda raises his eyebrows and looks at you. "you do?"

"i do," you affirm, "you keep less-than-subtle company."

"hey!"

you and oda both ignore dazai. the taller man addresses you instead, "then you should know that it's safe to go out for tonight. and the rain is stopping, too."

you exhale. it'd been easy to ignore how stressed you were about the 'dangerous situation' that you'd been told nothing about happening right outside your place of work. and then, it clicks; dazai was distracting you from all that on purpose with his torrent of questions. you look back at him. he simply smiles.

oda speaks again. "i'll be back tomorrow morning to check on things. get home safe."

turning to dazai, he states, "the car is waiting outside. take the umbrella."

his departure leaves three people in the shop, like it's been for the past hour; you, dazai, and misty the cat. so, two people, you guess. and you can't help the twinge of sorrow that makes itself known inside your chest at the fact that this may be the first and last night that you see him. the only thing you can say is, "it was nice to meet you, dazai."

he stands. misty makes a cat noise. he meets your eyes and there is something less than hollowness there. his smile seems more real than before.

"you'll see me again," he almost promises, as if he could read your mind.

"good," is all you have time to reply, before he is out the door. you bite the inside of your cheek to restrain the grin that is breaking out from across your face, "good."

flowers chosen: pink camellia & forget-me-not . . longing for you & don't forget me

❊ send a request! ❊ 5k masterlist ❊ event info ❊

#i have not touched bsd in so long i am sorry ..#dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #osamu dazai x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #bsd #reader insert #mitsies 5k #insp by “a night to remember” by laufey & bea <3 #this was gonna be longer and more dramatic but i had to cut it off bc too long!

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kaleidoscopewritings19 · 4 months

Text

Bruce Wayne x Reader

Title: “Secrets will be told” SERIES PART 5

Need a Refresher? Here are the previous parts!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

-TWO YEARS AFTER THE EVENTS OF PART 2-

Pairing(s): Bruce Wayne (from the show Gotham) and Female reader. BOTH BRUCE AND READER WILL BE 26-28 in this part.

Warnings: None

Summary of series: Bruce Wayne was captivated when he met Y/N, and the feeling was mutual. Dating turned into being engaged and engaged to married. They knew each other’s secrets and told each other everything; they confided in one another. But once Y/N follows Bruce back to Gotham, he begins to change... He becomes secretive, is he having an affair? Y/N needs to find out the truth.

When I got to my family’s home in Metropolis, it was empty. I had forgotten they went on vacation for their anniversary; at least I had the whole house to myself. I was glad they had left, because now I did not have to explain to them why I wasn’t with Bruce. I didn’t want to have to explain to them Bruce was having an affair, and I would be filing for a divorce after two months of marriage.

I made myself comfortable on the couch, and I lit up a cigarette, taking a long drag from it. My cellphone began to ring, and Bruce’s name popped up across the screen. I tossed my phone on the opposite couch and placed the cigarette back between my lips.

A voice from behind me startled me. “I didn’t think a woman of your prestige would be smoking a cigarette.” the voice was grim. If snakes had a voice, it would sound like his. I was frozen to the couch, fear paralyzed all of my limbs, and the man’s footsteps approached me from behind.

I looked over at my phone that continued to ring, damn it. If only I could reach it... “What? Cats got your tongue?” his voice hissed, and I felt a cool hand on my shoulder. His footsteps came around the couch, and when I looked up at the person’s face, the cigarette fell from between my lips.

The man laughed and his laugh was psychotic sounding. He bent down and picked up the cigarette from the floor and put it between his lips. Scars littered his face, and his face was painted white. His red lips pulled into a big smile, “Mrs. Wayne, it is fantastic to finally meet you. My name is--”

“You’re Jeremiah Valeska...” the words slipped from my lips, and he let out a laugh and clapped his hands together. “Great! Well, since we got our introductions out of the way, let us get to why I am here...” he said as he paced back and forth in front of me.

My body was paralyzed from fear. “Your husband and I go way back. You see, me and him, we are the same. He just doesn’t know it yet. He’s not ready to become who he is truly meant to be.” I could hear my heartbeat ringing in my ears, and I knew I had to make a move before it was too late.

I looked over at my phone and it was still ringing, and when Jeremiah had turned around, I jumped for my phone. I clicked the answer button, but Jeremiah snatched the phone from my hand, and he shoved me down on the couch.

His hands pinned down my shoulders, and when I tried to kick him, he climbed on top of me. “You gave me no choice...” he placed a green rag over my mouth and nose. “Bruce!” I tried to scream, but it came out muffled and the more I squirmed, the harder his hand pressed down on my mouth.

My body began to go limp, and my eyesight started to blur and everything was going dark. “Shhhh... We will be home in no time, Mrs. Wayne...”

My body was freezing. My arms were tired and so were my legs. I can’t lift them.. Why? Jeremiah Valeska! He used chloroform. He was in my parent’s house, what did he say before I passed out? Then it hit me: “Shhhh... We will be home in no time, Mrs. Wayne...” He brought me back to Gotham, but where? I couldn’t let him know I was awake.

I had to get a sense of where I was; I needed to try to figure out my surroundings before I opened my eyes. What can I feel? Cold. Hard. I was lying down on concrete. Okay, now what? What can I hear? Clanking. Lots of clanking. What can I smell? Taking in slow breaths, the smell irked me. It was strong like bleach, but stronger.

There was no used in trying to figure out where I was. A factory? Gotham had at least 30 of them, if I could find one weapon, there was a chance I could make it out of this. Slowly, I opened my eyes, and blinked away the blurriness. “Finally awake?” Jeremiah’s voice echoed throughout the room, and then my eyes landed on the chemical vats.

He brought me to Ace Chemicals. Why? Frantically, I looked around for a way out, and I sprang into action. I grabbed a metal pipe off of the ground, and I could hear Jeremiah’s fit of laughter. “Oooo... I like you. Brucie picked a good one.”

Jeremiah came out of the shadows and started clapping. “Bravo, sweet cheeks. Bravo.”

When the lights hit his face, I was able to see his full face. He barely had any hair on his head. He slowly walked up to me, and I swung the pipe, hitting him in the lower jaw. The pipe reverberated back into my shoulders, and all he could do was laugh. “You’re insane.” I said through gritted teeth, and a pair of strong arms grabbed me from behind.

The pipe fell to my feet, and Jeremiah prowled in front of me. His gloved hand grabbed my cheeks and squeezed them, “We’re all a little insane, Mrs. Wayne.” He paused as he caressed my cheek, “Have I told you how beautiful you are?” he questioned, and as I pulled my face back, he laughed. “Now, before I had to put you to sleep, I was going to tell you about mine and Bruce’s past...”

He motioned for the big, burly crony to drop me. When he did, Jeremiah began to stalk around me like I was his prey. “Bruce and I we’re the same. His darkness runs deep inside of him. He just hasn’t let it come out to play like I have.” he said as he knelt down to my eye level.

“Why do you care if he lets this so called ‘darkness’ out?” I asked, and he smiled. “Because... I want to be the one that helps Bruce Wayne be free. Truly free. All he needs is to let go of his past, and let the darkness take over.”

His thumb and his index finger pulled my chin closer to him. His thumb ran over my bottom lip, “But I’m afraid you cannot be in the picture, Mrs. Wayne.” Jeremiah’s lips hovered over mine, before he chuckled darkly, “I will be the one to kill you, and after you are out of the picture, I believe he will finally be free.”

“Why did you bring me here? Why didn’t you kill me a few hours ago?” I questioned, and he pointed over to the chemical vats.

“Because. That is where Bruce let me fall. That is why I look like this.” he said with a laugh as he pointed at his face. “Originally, I was going to throw you into the vats. But I would much rather be in control of your pain, and how quickly you die.” he said as he grabbed me off of the ground. “It will make things feel more personal.”

There was a clear box that stood as high as the chemical vat, and Jeremiah shoved me into the boxed room. He pushed me down to the chair and tied my arms behind my back and pulled my cellphone out of his pocket. I looked down towards my feet and a pipe was fed through a hole at the bottom of this boxed room.

When I followed the tube upward, I gasped. It was connected to the chemical vat. I tried to move, but Jeremiah grabbed my face. “No, need to panic. I just need to get Bruce and everything will be set.”

Jeremiah began telling me what to say to Bruce, and he held the phone in front of me. “Y/N? Y/N, where are you? Are you alright?”

“Bruce... I’m.. I’m at Ace Chemicals.” I said into the phone, and Jeremiah motioned for me to continue. “I’m here with Jeremiah Valeska, and he’s going to kill me...” I whisper the last part, and Jeremiah laughed.

“Did you hear that, Brucie?” Jeremiah taunted.

“You sick son of a-”

“Listen here, you better be here in the next twenty minutes, or your little wife is going to be scarred like me. And I’d hate to scar this beautiful, flawless, skin.” he hissed, and Bruce paused.

“Jeremiah, it’s me you want. Let her go.” Bruce said, and by the tone of his voice, I could tell he was gritting his teeth.

Jeremiah tsked, “That’s not how this little game is going to work. You will be here or-”

Before he could finish his sentence, the sound of glass shattering made us look at each other. “Looks like it’s show time baby doll.”

Jeremiah closed the door to the glass box and hit the red button on the chemical vat. Green liquid began to come out of the tube at a slow pace. The smell was horrendous, and I tried to untie my hands, when a black figure jumped on top of Jeremiah.

“It’s you! You know, I have seen you make the news, and I didn’t think I’d get the chance to meet you!” Jeremiah cackled, and I stared at the black figure standing over Jeremiah. “Here I am. Now let her go.” the voice was deep, and his eyes looked over at me and then back at Jeremiah.

The chemical smell was starting to make me dizzy, but I continued trying to get my hands untied. “I can’t open the door.. It wasn’t made to be opened!” Jeremiah laughed as he looked at me through the glass. “Whether Bruce Wayne comes or not, she is going to die!”

The Batman lifted Jeremiah off of the ground and slammed him against the chemical vat. The green liquid began to pool towards my high heels, and when I jerked my hands free, I was able to stand up on the chair. I took off my blouse that went over my tank top, and I covered my mouth and nose.

I looked over at Jeremiah and the Batman fighting and I started to tear up. This was how I was going to die. In Gotham at the hands of a crazy maniac. The chemical came out of the tube at a faster rate, and I could feel the chair starting to melt into the chemical.

A bang on the glass made me jump. “Don’t worry, I’m going to get you of there.” the Batman said to me, and now I was crying. I placed my hand on the glass and looked into the vigilante’s eyes. “I’m starting to get dizzy. I can’t stand anymore.” I said, and he began to beat on the glass harder.

“Stay standing. Don’t pass out. Just focus on me.” he said.

His dark brown eyes reminded me of Bruce’s. Tears were running down my cheeks and I shook my head. “Please, just tell Bruce I love him. Tell him, I’m not mad. Don’t let him blame himself for.. for.. th-this.”

My lungs were burning and it felt like they could no longer hold any air. My legs began to shake, and before my eyes closed, I heard the batman say: “I love you too...” The sound of glass shattering was the last thing I heard before everything went dark.

First off, I want to apologize to keep you guys for hanging so long. Last year was not the best year, and it was so busy and I was going through a lot. But here is Part 5, and I am working on Part 6. I hope you enjoyed this part, and please let me know if you want to be added/unadded from the tagslist.

Thank you for reading!

XOXO

TAGLIST: @rl800 @auspicious-lilana @theclassicvinyldragon

#bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x batmom #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne smut #the batman x reader #gotham #gotham tv

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notjustjavierpena · 8 months

Note

I miss Husband!Javi! How’s the fam doing?

Lazy

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

A/N: The family is doing absolutely fantastic this morning, thank you for asking! You’re lucky that you get to have a little peek.

Summary: Morning sex and interruption.

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, clit stim, lactation (don’t look at me), somewhat interrupted sex, dirty talk, loooove, domestic life, cuddles!

Word count:

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50275039

Lazy

You thank a higher power for the location of your house when you sleep in on weekends, its treeless garden making the sun able to shine thousands of miles across the universe and through your window to warm the white and crumpled sheets of yours and Javier’s bed. On days of work, you’d often curse the mocking rays of the sun, but today they’re perfect.

You turn your head on your pillow to see the back of Javier’s head. He is lying on his side, covers resting just above his hips. You think that he might be the reason you are feeling hot and not the sun because when you reach out to touch his back, he is like a furnace.

It’s moments like these that need to be treasured. A house full of kids rarely gets quiet moments like these, and the thought of being totally undisturbed by them on a morning when the sun is so enthusiastic about showing off, it’s nearly concerning that they haven’t barged in.

Your fingertips dance up your husband’s spine. The gentle touch makes him stir. You quickly pull your hand back, curling inwards to protect the brief intimate moment from being interrupted. He is so beautiful, you think, and you are in almost awe at the fact that you get to watch the never-ending movements of his chest as he breathes slowly during his slumber.

You want to wake him; want him to fuck you until you sigh loudly when he makes you orgasm but morning sex is too risky. Inés will surely jump onto the bed in the middle of the action, and you’ll have to come up with a lousy explanation for what you were doing. Lucas might even catch on at this point, and say something about making babies. Javier would never be able to get over it.

“I can feel you staring, mi amor,” Javier says suddenly.

You jump a little at hearing his voice so unexpectedly and blush at being caught in the act of ogling him even if it’s so tenderly.

“You just looked so peaceful,” you say. You looked like home.

Javier finally turns around to face you, making the sheets rustle slightly. He gives you a little grin, but he still looks so tired. You would have beckoned him closer, but when he doesn’t automatically seek you out, even dozing off a little again, you make the effort to shuffle closer.

He lazily wraps an arm around you and tugs you close to his chest. You lift your leg to rest it over his hip, and then you snooze together for a while and you can hear the soft snoring that comes out of his mouth. He is boiling but you don’t mind at all.

Not even when you feel his palm come down to rest on the curve of your ass. Not even when it taps playfully.

“They’ll be here in a moment,” you mumble as he starts groping you properly, but Javier doesn’t stop. Instead, he pushes your leg off of him.

“Turn around,” he orders, voice thick with sleep.

You open your eyes to find his, “Did you not hear what I just said?”

“The baby alarm hasn’t made a sound in forever,” he replies, “Turn around.”

You groan irritatedly but mostly just for show, feeling a tingle dance at the base of your spine. You do as he says. The tingle turns into a whole somersault in your stomach so quickly, when his broad hand settles on the space beneath your belly button and then slips underneath the waistband of your underwear.

“Should fall asleep like this more often,” he murmurs behind you. You want to say that we spoon all the time but he punctuates the meaning behind his words by cupping your whole cunt in his hand. You moan helplessly.

His other arm scoops under your body. This hand pulls your top up over your tits, settling on one of them afterward to squeeze and pull and squeeze and pull. You sigh contentedly as he pinches a nipple, don’t even flush when a few drops of milk drip down over his fingers.

He had become absolutely ravenous when it had happened the first time during your pregnancy with Lucas, even if your heart had hammered in your chest due to embarrassment… but now, with breastfeeding your third child, you have indulged him in this several times.

“Mierda,” he growls, removing his hand from your underwear to brush off the now-several droplets of milk from the back of his hand, “You’re so fucking hot.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts.”

“Shut up.”

“I meant the milk.”

He sucks his fingers into his mouth, and you can nearly taste the sweetness of it yourself. He makes a joke about breakfast, which you tell him is disgusting but then his post-milk-stained fingers are in your panties again.

You arch into him at the very first swipes of his fingers. He presses them against the sides of your clit, not touching it directly, and goes back and forth and back and forth. It’s slow and lazy just like the atmosphere of this particular morning, and he has you gasping into the air not long after.

You fist the sheets with one hand. The other reaches up to cover the one on your breast, holding onto it for dear life as Javier builds up the intense pressure in your belly. Your toes curl, “P-please.”

“Está bien,” he coos, “Come for me, baby.”

The pads of his fingers go to your clit now, quickly rubbing from side to side. The pleasure in your body grows even more powerful, taking hold of your breath and legs, spreading out from between your legs. You feel as though you might explode without release.

Your legs move around slightly. Javier encourages you with filthy words and then—

You come with the loud sigh that you have learned to make instead of practically screaming like you normally did before the children arrived. Your face contorts into an expression of bliss, your mouth falls open at the first spasms of your wet cunt, and your clit throbs heavenly.

More milk slides down onto the mattress too, dripping with each pulse of your pussy because it mistakenly thinks you’re getting the rush of endorphins and dopamine from acts of being a mother.

“Fuck, you are dirty,” Javier is rock hard against your ass, and you want to indulge him but you only get a few seconds into your earth-shattering orgasm before the door behind you and your husband opens forcefully.

You start to half-laugh half-moan, still not completely settling into post-orgasmic bliss, when Javier starts to panic. He quickly turns around to face the door and hides his body underneath the covers to cover up any indecency. Luckily, you think, this kind of situation is the biggest boner killer.

You pull your top down without your children seeing it. Then you sit up slightly and look in the same direction as Javier; Lucas and Inés are in their pajamas, having arrived together in a way that makes you think that Inés has gone into Lucas’ room beforehand to fetch her brother.

Now, they’re both standing in the doorway and looking at you both with curiosity as if they’re trying to decipher what has just happened.

“What’re you two scheming about?” Javier asks in his dad-voice. That seems to work, putting them out of their trance, because the two of them come bounding together towards the bed.

As predicted, Inés jumps onto Javier’s side of the bed and Lucas comes for a cuddle on your side. You pull the covers tight around your legs, letting both kids settle on top of them.

“Did you sleep well?” You ask your son, running a hand over his dark hair. He rests his head against your heart, barely replying as he almost instantaneously nods off the second he feels your warmth. You try not to get too emotional about it; still having this kind of moment with him despite him getting older and more independent. He still needs his mother, and you blink a few times to hold tears at bay whilst promising to always be there like this.

“Mijo,” you coo softly. You absentmindedly keep stroking his hair, hearing his breathing slow and your own seeming to fall into the exact same pattern.

Beside you, Inés talks loudly and enthusiastically about something that you cannot quite tune into yet. Javier seems to understand everything perfectly well, making eyes and nodding in a comical yet serious manner.

“Is that so?” He says.

“Yes!” Inés replies loudly.

“Indoor voices,” you fuss.

“What?” Javier mimics her volume and turns to you, “What did you say? I can’t hear you!”

Inés squeals in delight. You roll your eyes with a smile.

It’s then that you notice she has something clenched in her tiny fist, and you realize faster than Javier that it’s a headband. It’s funny because it makes sense of what she has been talking about, and yet it still catches Javier off guard when…

Whack!

The headband is placed on his head with the grace - or lack thereof - of a four-year-old child. It nearly pokes him in the eye, and he automatically jumps at the unintended violence of the act.

Inés looks proud of herself when she eventually manages to place it on top of her father’s head correctly. You cover your mouth to hide the giggle that’s about to escape your lips, admiring the pointy horn that sits in the middle of his forehead.

“You look so cute,” you tell him.

He reaches up to poke the tip with his finger, but he shows no sign of being displeased by what Inés has done. Instead, he tugs her close to his chest to tickle her and you nearly decide at that moment to let him make a fourth baby with you (Something about a soccer team. Only eight more to go.)

“Soy un unicornio muy malo y me encanta comer niñas que se llaman Inés,” he says animatedly when he gives Inés a break from his tickle-attack. He raises his arms above his head, imitating claws.

“No!” She squeaks with laughter.

You hug Lucas extra tightly in your arms. He seems to have blinked awake at the noise, but he doesn’t move as a sign for you to keep snuggling him.

“Síííí,” he replies, striking once again with more tickles to make the whole bed shake. He pretend-bites her cheek when he manages to scoop her up, and you feel a desperate need to make up for the interruption you both had to endure. This is worth it though, and you know it is to him too. God, he is sexy.

Suddenly, a cry is heard through the speaker of the baby alarm. Inés knows what this means by now. She backs down, eyes wide, “Sebastian is crying!”

You start to move, but Javier points down to his half-asleep son. He shakes his head.

“I’ll get him,” he reassures and gets out of bed. Inés follows him out of the room without hesitation, reaching for his hand to hold. She still talks about her father’s hairpiece.

As you gently attempt to wake up your son, you wonder briefly if Javier had thought about being dressed up as a unicorn on a Saturday morning when he kissed you that first time after your second date. Then afterward, you wonder if he, then, had been hoping this would be his life when he had kissed you.

Either way, you make breakfast with a smile on your face the whole time while Lucas joins in to help you set the table, and when Javier returns with his energetic daughter and your four-month-old son, who is sleeping on his arm like it is a strong branch, he is still wearing the unicorn headband.

FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS 💖❤️💖❤️

#pedro pascal characters #javier peña #pedro pascal smut #javier pena fic #javi peña #javier pena narcos #javi pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena #javier pena x you #javier pena smut #my writing #husband!javi #narcos fanfiction #narcos

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sagesolsticewrites · 3 months

Text

Sundress (Anthony Boyle x Reader)

In which date night takes a turn when Anthony sees the outfit you’ve chosen

Special thanks to my bestie @winniemaywebber for this idea and for being my spicy Anto/Croz hypewoman <3 ily girlieeeee 👏👏 👏

content warnings: mature content (thigh riding, oral (f receiving), PinV penetration), slight dom/sub dynamics if you squint, praise kink, swearing, Anthony Boyle being entirely too sweet and sexy for this world 🥴 (again: this is for mature audiences only!! 18+!!)

word count: 2.7k (ANTHONY BOYLE WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME 😩)

Masterlist

You stand in front of your closet, fighting off a grin of anticipation.

The press tours for Masters of the Air and Manhunt had finally come to a close, and you had a few days of respite before your boyfriend went off to his next project.

Of course, with Anthony, this meant date night.

You linger near your reliable jeans-and-a-nice-top combos for a moment before the sundresses hanging near the back catch your eye.

The weather has been getting warmer, you think, and it’s been a while since I’ve gotten to wear these…

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you snag one of your favorites off the hanger and change into it, twirling to see every angle in front of the mirror.

It complements your curves perfectly, hanging at just the right length that won’t make you nervous about walking up any stairs but isn’t too modest.

You make quick work of your makeup and jewelry, making sure to include the delicate necklace that Anthony gifted you for your first anniversary together, and before too long there’s a knock at the door.

Your boyfriend, fresh from some last-minute press responsibilities, was right on time.

You rush towards the door, the clacking of your heels on the floor surely announcing your excitement to Anthony as you fling it open.

“Hi,” you say, barely able to speak around your grin.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he says, pulling you in for a swift kiss— the first you’ve shared in weeks. Reluctantly, the two of you eventually pull away for air and he steps inside, eyes raking over your figure, “You look… absolutely fantastic.”

“Well, thank you,” you say, twirling so he can see how the dress fans out around you. “You don’t look too bad, yourself.” You add, eyeing the rolled-up sleeves of his white button down revealing entirely too attractive forearms and the patch of chest hair just visible underneath the effortlessly unbuttoned top buttons — bless his stylist, who had clearly attended the Austin Butler School of Buttoning Shirts — all complemented perfectly with sleek black pants.

“Thank you, my love. I’m, uh…” he trails off as he watches your dress settle around you, then seems to jolt back to himself after barely a second, “I’m just gonna go grab a jacket and then we’ll head out, alright?”

He returns soon, now armed with a black suit jacket, and you glance down at the sundress that now seems a bit too casual for what he’s wearing.

However, when you ask if you should change, his answer is a swift, decisive, “No.”

“You look stunning just as you are, darling,” he amends his sharp response, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before escorting you out the door.

Anthony is his usual gentlemanly self while you’re out: he pulls your seat out and waits for you to sit down first when you arrive at your favorite Italian restaurant, happily splits a dessert with you (though if you happened to end up with the bigger half, despite your insistence that you split it equally, well… it wasn’t a crime to treat his girl, was it?), and when Frank Sinatra starts playing on the speakers overhead, he jumps to his feet and extends his hand to you, twirling you around the floor with not a single care for the eyes watching when you gladly accept and pulling you in for a sweet kiss as the song ends, his hand tangling in your hair as he pulls you close.

“So… ready to head home, sweetheart?” He asks as the two of you return to your seats.

“I— yes, I guess so?” You reply, slightly confused. Normally Anto loved to keep you out with him for as long as possible; returning home directly after dessert was a rarity.

He scrambles to assure you that he would be more than happy to stay out if you want, but something about the way his fingertips dance over your knee under the table, toying with the lace edging of your dress, makes you agree that it’s time to call it a night.

The air between the two of you as you head home is thick and hot, the anticipation of something building.

And that anticipation comes to a head as you enter the privacy of your home, finding yourself pinned to the inside of the door as soon as it closes.

“Sweetheart,” Anthony nearly growls against your lips, hands firm on your waist as his voice grows increasingly more strangled, “Are you trying to kill me?”

“I don’t—” You just barely choke back a moan. You haven’t the faintest idea what he’s talking about, but if it’s getting him to manhandle you like this after so long away…

“This dress,” he groans, bunching the flimsy fabric in his fists, “I’ve been gone for weeks, and the first thing I see is you in this little thing—” he moves as he speaks, from murmuring against your own lips to traveling down back to your ear and along your neck, “— and I take you out to dinner, and dessert, and dancing—” he punctuates each item with a light nip to your skin, making you jolt.

“—when all I really want to do,” he returns to speaking directly in your ear, his voice a soft growl that does startling things to your heart rate, “is see how pretty you look in this dress when I fuck you in it.”

Your entire body turns to jello, and the only thing keeping you upright is Anthony’s hands on your hips and his leg wedged in between yours. You can’t help but let out a sharp gasp when your core comes into contact with his leg, and his already dilated eyes turn almost entirely black at the sound.

“C’mere, baby,” he whispers, pulling you along to the bedroom, discarding his jacket somewhere in the house as he does.

You scramble to kick off your heels as you enter the dimly-lit room, your boyfriend wasting no time in untucking and unbuttoning his shirt from his perch on the edge of the bed.

“No,” he says sharply when your fingers move to the straps of your dress, “Keep it on.”

Your breath catches, biting your lip to stifle a moan as you realize he was serious.

He wordlessly beckons you closer, and you step forward obediently, standing between his spread legs. Pinching your chin, he tugs you down for a gentle kiss that’s fairly at odds with his dominating persona at the moment.

“This okay?” he murmurs softly against your lips, and somehow the gentle check-in combined with the events happening now are enough to make you even wetter than you already are.

You nod, adding a soft “Yes” when you remember he won’t do anything unless you’ve given a verbal okay.

That settled, he captures your lips in a decidedly more heated kiss, hands moving down to grip your hips as he adjusts so you’re straddling his thigh.

You meet his scorching gaze, practically feeling yourself melting as you realize what he intends to do.

“Noticed you seemed to like this earlier, my love,” he murmurs against your lips, smirking.

You quickly move to clutch at his shoulders as he drags your clothed core along his quadricep, mouth opening in a silent moan.

He huffs out a laugh, nudging your nose with his own as he bunches up the soft fabric of your dress.

“I was right, you do look very pretty like that,” he mumbles, “but I don’t even get to hear your pretty noises? C’mon, honey…”

He flexes his thigh, the new angle making you jump as you gasp, “Anthony, oh my god—”

“Just like that, sweet girl,” he growls into your mouth, scattering kisses all down your neck and chest as your pace speeds up.

A familiar tension builds just below your belly as you clutch yourself against him, throwing your head back and rolling your hips against his still-clothed thigh faster, faster, faster, Anthony murmuring soft praise and encouragement all the while.

“Anthony,” you gasp into his mouth, one hand clutching at his shoulder while the other buries itself in his dark curls as you feel yourself teetering on the precipice of your release, “‘M gonna—”

Your warning is cut off by a sharp, keening whine when Anthony grips your hips firmly, stopping their motion just before you tip over the edge.

“No, Ant—” you whine, struggling against his grip as your almost-orgasm fades, “Please, I was so close…”

“‘Msorry, sweetheart,” he mumbles against your skin, rising with you as you stand on wobbly legs, “I promise I’ll make this next part worth it,” He murmurs teasingly as he gently lays you back on the bed.

He shucks off his shirt before climbing on top of you, giving you a knowing smirk as you eye the exposed skin, your gaze lingering on the fully-revealed chest hair and the wet patch just barely visible on his thigh. The bed dips with his weight as his limbs cage you in, one hand delicately tracing the curves and lines of your body, making you shiver.

He captures your lips in a searing kiss, your hands eagerly traveling along his skin.

“If you’re gonna cum, sweetheart,” he breathes in a low, gravelly tone that sends heat straight to your core, “it’s gonna be on my mouth before anything else.”

You’re fairly certain you’ve truly actually turned to liquid, especially if the increasing wetness between your thighs is any indication, but your boyfriend proves you’re still deliciously solid, his lips tracing a path down your neck to where the tops of your breasts are just barely exposed by your dress.

Your fingers creep up to pull your dress down, to fully expose your chest so he can scatter kisses over every inch of you, but Anthony stops you.

His pretty brown eyes, molten with heat, meet yours as he stops you from tugging desperately at your dress.

“I told you, baby,” he says, keeping eye contact as he drags his lips over your clothed chest, paying special attention to your quickly hardening nipples peeking through the fabric before moving lower.

“Keep. It. On.”

You throw your head back, gasping softly as his lips travel down, down, down, along your stomach and hips down to your thighs.

He carefully slides the now irreparably wrinkled fabric up, flipping up the hem to reveal your hips and thighs and the lacy fabric covering your core.

He wastes no time in pressing kisses to you over your underwear, your hips bucking up into him as you chase the feeling of his mouth on you.

Little tease that he is, he keeps his mouth just out of reach as he peels off the soaked lace fabric

“Oh sweetheart,” he breathes, your own breath catching as he drags his fingertips through your folds and they come away dripping, “All this for me?”

You can only whine, having long ago lost the ability to form words.

He prolongs your torment by kissing a slow, torturous path up the inside of each of your thighs before finally — finally — diving into you, eagerly licking into your folds.

You let out a choked gasp as he licks a thick, fat stripe up your center, gathering the moisture collected there before darting up to flick at your clit, an action that has you gripping the sheets like a lifeline, a stuttering moan that sounds vaguely like your boyfriend’s name escaping from your lips. His arms hook around your thighs, pulling you close in an attempt to keep your hips grounded, and he continues a few more passes of the same lick, flick pattern until you’re a writhing mess underneath him.

“Fuck, darlin’,” he groans against you, his voice sending vibrations through your core, “Taste even better than I remembered.”

“A-Ant—“ you stutter out a warning, that familiar tension building once again.

You feel him grin against you, and lord if that doesn’t send all kinds of sparks racing through your body, a feeling that only intensifies as his thumb comes up to circle your clit, a litany of praise and encouragement falling from his lips.

“‘M not gonna stop you this time, sweetheart, just let go,” he murmurs against you, fingers and tongue working overtime on your core, “C’mon baby, please, wanna taste you—”

You cry out as your orgasm rips through you, Anthony dutifully guiding you through your climax.

You come back to yourself, shuddering, as your boyfriend pulls away to brush a gentle kiss to your hipbone, mouth glistening and eyes nearly black with desire.

“You’re fucking perfect, sweetheart,” he groans, trailing back up to capture your lips with his.

You moan into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue.

The two of you stay like that for a while, Ant letting you recover, until the bulge pressing into your thigh becomes too much to ignore.

He gasps into your mouth as your hand moves down to palm at him through his slacks.

“Darlin’— shit, you’re ready for me already?”

As if your furious nodding wasn’t enough of an answer, you move your hand more insistently against him.

“Fuck, fuck, okay—” he hisses, moving off of you to rid himself of his his pants and boxers.

You watch, bottom lip caught between your teeth, as his length springs free from his underwear, tip already leaking.

He returns to hover over you, brushing kisses all over your face and neck as he strokes himself a few times.

You can’t resist touching him, and your fingertips grazing along his length has his eyes fluttering shut.

“Not gonna last long if you keep doin’ that, sweetheart,” he warns with a gasp, breath hot against your cheek.

You reluctantly retract your fingers, barely stifling a moan when his tip brushes against you as he positions himself at your entrance.

His eyes lock on yours, watching your face contort in pleasure as he slowly, slowly, enters you.

“You ready, darlin’?” He breathes against your lips after a moment to let you adjust.

The frantic “yes” that escapes you isn’t so much a word as a gasp, and your thoughts turn to static as he begins to thrust into you with slow, languid strokes.

Your breaths mingle, his exhales becoming your inhales, the thin fabric of your sundress providing a delicious friction as you feel every inch of him pressed against you.

“You’re so tight,” he gasps, increasing his pace as your breathing becomes heavier, “Fuck, I missed this, I missed you.”

“Missed you, too,” you whine into his mouth, your hand fisting his soft dark curls, “Missed you so much, Ant—”

His mouth closes the millimeters of distance between the two of you, crashing onto yours in a fierce, heated kiss.

You let out a muffled moan as his hips grind against yours faster and faster, feeling your second orgasm of the night building.

“I’m close, sweetheart,” Anthony groans, hips stuttering, letting out a soft “fuck” when you tell him you’re almost there, too.

“C’mon, come for me darlin’” he grinds out against your mouth, “‘M right behind you, please, please, come for me, honey…”

You reach your second climax with a cry, Anthony muffling his own in your neck as he spills into you, thrusting slowly until he’s spent.

The two of you stay there for a moment, trying to catch your breath, until Anthony lifts his head to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“So,” he says breathlessly, toying with the hopelessly wrinkled fabric of your dress, “You’ll be wearing these more often, yeah?”

You huff out a laugh. “If you promise not to ruin them, absolutely.”

“Sweetheart,” he says, “I’ll buy you a thousand more of these. Whatever you want. As long as I know there’s at least one in your closet for me to enjoy.”

He murmurs the last sentence against your lips, punctuating it with a long, slow kiss that has you grinning against him.

You bump your nose against his as he pulls away, your thumb stroking his cheek.

“Welcome home, honey.”

His gaze softens, pulling you in for another brief, gentle kiss.

“Thank you, my love.”

#winnie said one (1) thing about thigh riding anthony in a dress and the hornybrain took it and RAN fjskfj #hope y’all liked it ☺️#my writing #anthony boyle #anthony boyle x reader #anthony boyle smut #masters of the air #masters of the air cast #anthony boyle fic #anthony boyle imagine

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peachsayshi · 10 months

Note

Heyaa peachieee

Are you gonna be continuing the brother's bff geto series ? I like it a lot can't wait to see what happens next 😩❤️

“whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same”

⊱ ─── [ ❦ ] ─── ⊰

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ older brother’s best friend geto x female reader ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ minors / ageless / blank blogs (dni) ↬･tags: (part 1/part 2)tension; alcohol; reader is gojo's sister; reader has a big fat crush on geto; size difference; working on the next part just figuring out which direction to go ~

⥽ notes: nonnie! I'm glad you asked because I've had this simmer in my head since I wrote the last part. For those who asked, I will update my ex husband geto series next, and then inexperienced reader x geto <3

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You sway your hips to the beat of the song, the sparkling beads adorning your chest shimmer underneath dim lights. Champagne bubbles pop in your veins, orchestrating the arch and writhe of your sensual movements in the middle of the crowded room. You aren’t paying any attention to the unwanted stares zoning in on your group, too blissed out on the high of achieving another successful milestone in your life.

Graduation arrived faster than you expected. With the ceremony now just a couple of weeks away, you find yourself gifted with all the free time in the world, leaving behind the stress of your assignments and finals but you’re so happy to make it to the end of this long, winding road.

Your friend tugs you close to her chest, her sparkling dress matching your top and your other friend's skirt, and gives you a gentle kiss on the cheek. She’s singing loudly, her inebriated mind making her jumble up the lyrics in a cute manner. You sing along with her, trying to guide her as you hold her cheeks in the palm of your hands and heartily belt out the tune. Two hands then find your waist, and your other friend spins you back towards her to keep on dancing. You circle your arms around her neck, and playfully whine against her as the scent of alcohol and perfume filters the air around you. You don’t even know if your make up is still snatched or if the setting spray you had applied earlier has waned against the sweat misting off your body.

For whatever you don’t even care.

You’ve spent the last four months burying yourself deep into your work, and tonight is about rewarding yourself and living in the moment.

You wanted nothing more than to do just that.

“I’m going to get some water, would you like some?” you hoarsely speak into your friend’s ear, your throat constricting from the tension around your vocal chords.

“Yes, please! We’ll wait for you right here!”

You sashay through the sea of strangers, avoiding the eyes taking in your risqué outfit. You knew that your silver backless top would garner a lot of attention, the fabric only held together by two thin straps around your neck and lower back. However, you liked the change to your usual style of clothing, and looked fantastic on the flattering pair of black pants that you had on while matching perfectly with your platform heels.

Your ears buzz from the sensory imbalance when you leave the underground dance floor and walk upstairs to the bar with the hard thumping bass muffling as you are now surrounded by softer, upbeat tones.

The entire room is packed.

You've only been down for a couple of hours, but you're taken aback at how quickly the bar hit capacity. You shouldn’t be surprised after all, considering that this establishment is the latest hot spot in the city…

… and, of course you would spot him out of the crowd of people.

Suguru is leaning against the bar looking more formal than usual. He is wearing a button down white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and showing off his intricate tattoos underneath. He has on sleek tailored pants, the color mirroring the length of his hair dripping down his back like ink pressing into paper, and the front of his bangs are tied back to reveal that perfectly handsome face which had heads turning at every angle.

Alarm bells ring in the back of your mind, but thankfully you’re relieved to figure out that your brother, Satoru, isn’t around.

Suguru is hanging out with his other friends...the ones you don’t know very well and only met for the first time on the night of his twenty-eighth birthday.

There is a guy with bluish gray hair, who has pretty features and an interesting scar on his face, but upon recognizing him you immediately remember Utahime’s cautionary words to be mindful.

Then there is a second guy whose face isn’t one to forget due to all his piercings and how his hair is styled into two little space buns, and despite his somewhat dissociative expression, he looked like he could pass as Suguru’s brother.

The memory of the party flashes through your mind in between your stunned blinks.

That night was the last time you saw Suguru in person.

After your emotional reaction to watching him kiss somebody else, you thought that avoiding your crush might be the best solution to heal your wounded heart. The only contact you’ve had with Suguru since then has been via text, but even then you were trying your best not to linger in conversation with him.

You still have no idea who that woman was, and shudder at the possibility of Suguru potentially being romantically involved with somebody else.

Suddenly, dark eyes fall on yours and the room around you grows quiet. The music fades into the distance as bodies blur together like colors on an artist’s palette. The only person remaining still is the man before you, standing tall and prominent, with the environment glowing around him like a halo and reminding you that you are simply just a foolish girl who forgot to pull out cupid’s arrow.

You rip your eyes away immediately, the adrenaline forcing you to turn your heel and walk over to the other side of the bar where everything floods back in, where the booming chatter and loud song collides into your ribs and leaves you breathless.

Your heart starts racing - the bar area appears much smaller than it initially seemed when you first walked upstairs but you finally make it to the counter and rest both your elbows on the edge as a way to steady your feet.

You catch the bartender’s attention, who is busy pirouetting between jotting down orders and mixing drinks, while trying your best to ignore his piercing gaze barreling through from the opposite side of the counter.

“Can I get three bottles of water, please?” you speak loudly, having to repeat yourself just one more time to make sure that the bartender heard you.

You only have a couple of minutes of peace before your spine goes rigid. A shocking cold crawls up each vertebrae, and a tickling drip of water cascades down your back which is swiftly brushed away by a gentle graze of knuckles.

You glance over your shoulder to find him right behind you.

“S-Suguru…”

The space between your shoulder blades is burning from the icy contact, and the man sweetly smiles in your direction as he pulls away his cold beer from your back.

This is only testing your patience.

“I thought that it was you,” he says as he places his drink down onto the counter. “I almost didn’t recognize you for a minute…”

You part your lips to reply, but your words catch in your throat. You anxiously shift from one foot to the next, desperately mustering up a quick reason to excuse yourself, but a stranger from behind bumps right into your shoulder at that exact moment which causes you to lose your balance.

Suguru’s hand finds your waist immediately to steady you, his palm rests on the fabric of your top while his fingers catch your exposed flesh. Your skin tingles from his touch, making your cheeks burst with a warmth that has you feeling unusually hot.

The worst part is you feel like he can see how your body is betraying you in this way as his sharply pries you open bit by bit.

His gaze falls to your chest, and he arches his brow slightly when he glances over your outfit, a hint of a smile curling his lip before returning to face you.

“Now what would Satoru say if he saw you in this, hmmm?” he teases, his digits innocently pinching into your soft flesh.

“You’re not going to say anything to him, right?” you stammer immediately as you force the words right out of you.

The last thing you needed was a rant from your overprotective brother.

Suguru shakes his head, “of course not, what Satoru doesn’t know won’t hurt him, I’ll let you have your fun...”

You aren't quite sure if it's the way you can practically taste him on the tip of your tongue, or the lingering alcohol that makes the room around you spin, but statement makes your own eyes fall to his lips with the memory of the way he kissed you now swirling in your mind.

“Are you here alone?” he asks seriously, and as if he can read your thoughts, he slowly drops his hand by his side before taking another step forward to seal the gap of space to prevent causing traffic to the people walking back and forth behind him.

“I’m here with my friends,” you explain, feeling like a caged little bird trapped between him and the bar, “they are downstairs…”

“Three waters!” the bartender interrupts as he slides over the bill.

Suguru is quick to push back the check in the bartender’s direction, “put whatever she wants on my tab,” he announces, and the statement only makes you feel even more self conscious.

“You got it,” the bartender replies with a thumbs up.

Suguru assists in handing you the bottles of water, and you stammer over your words once more when you speak.“T-Thanks, but you really don’t have to do that...”

“Don’t worry about it,” he replies with a wink, “it’s good seeing you. I’ll let you get back to your friends.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Your heart doesn’t stop spinning, and neither do you - so, you dull your senses with more drinks. You're not drunk enough to forget that the man you are infatuated with is hanging out just a floor above you, but you are nicely buzzed not to care about how the close proximity messes with your feelings.

Everything is a hazy blur until a few of the main lights start to flicker. The establishment is signaling their first warning that they will be closing soon and as the most sober(ish) person in your party, you take it upon yourself to lure your two friends back upstairs so you can all head home.

The three of you stumble out of the entrance. You’re holding onto your friend’s waist, while the other spins out in the middle of the sidewalk like the music never left her feet.

“Where to next?” she squeals a bit too loudly, and you sassily pull out your phone to show her the Uber application.

“Back home,” you reply, and she pouts like a child whose toy has just been snatched away.

“Boring,” your other friend mumbles, the weight of her body falling onto your shoulder and you almost collapse as you try to keep her upright.

You furrow your brows to check for the quickest pick up, but the earliest ride you can find is fifteen minutes away.

“Need a lift?”

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest, an echo reverberating around your ribcage and reaching all the way to the tip of your fingers. You swallow the tiny lump in your throat as you raise away from the blue light to put a face to that very familiar voice.

“Whose this?” your first friend mumbles, while the other stares at Suguru keenly with her mouth slightly agape.

“My brother’s best friend,” you mutter awkwardly before proceeding to decline his offer, “it’s alright, the Uber should be here soon.”

“And my car is parked just up the street,” he reassures calmly as he tilts his chin towards the direction of his vehicle before sliding both hands in his pocket. “You don’t have to worry, I just had the one beer earlier when I saw you but I haven’t been drinking…”

“Say yes, he’s really cute…” your friend with interested eyes that have not left Suguru’s, whispers quietly into your ear.

“I can’t help but agree with her,” Suguru smartly replies with a shrug, and that easy smile which makes his face glow as your friend giggles like a teenager.

You can’t help but shoot her a frustrated glare.

“I don’t want to intrude on your evening…”

Suguru huffs out a laugh, finding it cute that you are adamant on getting your way, before refuting that “it is not an intrusion at all, besides, Satoru would kill me if he knew that I just left you behind..."

Grinning thoughtfully in your direction, he made his final plea.

"Just cancel the ride. I’ll get you girls home in no time…”

You do as you're told because you’re too exhausted to protest otherwise.

The three of you follow Suguru to his car. He's a gentleman holding the backseat door open for your two friends, extending his hand out as he helps each of them climb inside. You can see how easily besotted they were by this act, but it only makes your chest tighten with envy.

You almost follow suit but hesitate when Suguru steps in the way.

“Want to sit up front?”

You can feel your worn, drained heart climb up from out of your throat and grip your face with its weak hands to beg you to decline. You should be trying to shield yourself from him, but how are you expected to resist with that kind of softness oozing from his soulful irises?

No wonder he gets so much attention, you think, convinced that he’s somehow cracked the code on how to hypnotize the most vulnerable of hearts with a single look.

You nip at the inside of your cheek anxiously but mindlessly nod yes in agreement.

Suguru shuts the door to the backseat.

You settle yourself in the front seat of his car breathing in the scent of sage with a hint of tobacco and shiver at the memory of how close you were when inhaled this scent last while his body was on top of yours.

The car itself is clean overall, but Suguru has always been meticulous about keeping everything in its place, unlike your brother who lived in a world of organized chaos. Sometimes you can’t help but compare the two of them, like you're trying to understand the details of how they complete one another while still being total opposites.

Your eyes fall to the decorative piece hanging from the front view mirror where you see a tiny polaroid framed within a wonky design.

There’s Suguru, who looks about your age, with the brightest grin on his face and whiskers painted on his cheeks. He is wearing black cat ears to match his two younger step-sisters, Mimiko and Nanako, who are also in the picture and are happily snuggled up in his arms.

“The girls made it for me,” he says, his voice low enough for just you to hear.

“Gosh, they look so young…”

“About four years old. This was a year after my mom got remarried…”

You flash him a smile, trying your best to ignore the way your body is currently simmering over such casual conversation. “It’s a really cute photo, Sugu”

He quirks his brow with amusement, a tender expression masking his face. "I'll show you the rest of them some other time…"

You subconsciously clench your thighs together, startled by the idea of you and your crush cozying up on a sofa while he shows you memories to the pieces of his life that you rarely ever get to see.

Despite your heart beating just a bit faster at the thought, your mind immediatelninterjects as a cautious reminder not to read into the situation.

Suguru fastens his seat belt, and quickly peaks over his shoulder to check on your two friends.

“Are you girls comfortable?”

“Yes, we are! Thanks again for the ride, uhm…erm…brother’s friend, uh…” one of you friends mumbles in an attempt to fish out his name.

“Suguru,” he politely replies then turns on the ignition.

“Thanks for the ride, Su-gu-ruu!” she repeats with exaggeration but for whatever reason it only feeds into your embarrassment.

“Hey, isn’t that…” your other friend intervenes innocently as she arches forward to rest her chin on your chair. “Isn’t that also the name of the guy you have a crush on?”

The weight of the world descends upon you the . Your body gradually shrinks in size, and you can feel yourself growing smaller and smaller as the seconds pass in silence.The slip of her tongue makes your eyes widen, and you ball your hands up into tight fists to form crescents in your palms as you anxiously clench your jaw.

Suguru’s face perks up instantly, and his movements slow down as one hand shifts to find the wheel while the other puts the car in reverse.

The air feels far too light, making it impossible for you to breathe. You know he heard that question, loud and clear, but you’re too mortified to even look at those magnetizing eyes. You can feel the heat of his stare unravel you, but you swiftly spin your head to face the busy streets and blurry lights just outside your window.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

#geto x reader #geto x female reader #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x female reader #suguru geto fan fiction #geto fan fiction #jujutsu kaisen fan fiction #jjk fan ficition

389 notes · View notes

mysteria157 · 4 months

Text

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

Chapter 2

Word Count: ~3.6k

CW: More profanity, reader’s best friend being a brash pervert

Summary: Flashback chapter. That first day when you meet him, you’re bright eyed and ready to work alongside him, filled with so many ideas that will benefit the company. Him, Nanami Kento, a highly esteemed director that always made your stomach flip in desire. But it turns out, he’s not what you thought.

Notes: Hi! Thank you all for sticking through. Reblogs, likes, or comments are always appreciated but not necessary <3 I hope you enjoy reading!

Divider: @cafekitsune

Previous Chapter | Ao3 | Next Chapter

It Had To Be You Masterlist

Everything was always bigger in Tokyo.

With ten times more people than your modest city of Sendai, it was always a wonder when you got the chance to visit. It wasn’t like you didn’t have the means, but it was still too far for a weekend getaway so you couldn’t go as often as you liked.

Marketing agencies from all over Japan had gathered for the weeklong excursion to celebrate accomplishments, announce future ideas, and collaborate with one another to strengthen cross functional bonds. Your marketing agency was currently bringing in the most revenue, with the Tokyo branch sitting at the forefront. Naturally, they were given the opportunity to hold the annual summit of what intended to be the biggest event of the year.

For Ome, it was a chance to get away from her ‘boyfriend’. Normally, that would raise alarm for anyone else. But when she caught her boyfriend balls deep in his secretary after she tried to surprise him for lunch, leaving the city was better than setting his office on fire.

For you, it was another opportunity to network and get your name out there. The Tokyo branch was the headquarters for the marketing agency you worked for. Anyone who held any sort of higher distinction walked the halls of the building.

“You look fucking fantastic, stop fidgeting.”

You glowered at Ome, cheeks heating in embarrassment before smoothing down your ensemble for the 10th time in the elevator. A baby pink long sleeved mock top tucked into white high waisted office pants seemed like a safe option. You had your long spiral curls tucked away into a low bun, small stud diamond earrings and a modest gold necklace to complete the look.

“Did you spend all night trying to put that together?”

You rolled your eyes at her comment.

“No.” Yes.

“Stop making fun of me, I’m fucking nervous.”

She scoffed before walking in front of you, placing her hands on your shoulders. Of course, she looked gorgeous in her airy button up long sleeve shirt. Of course, she could pull off the skirt that stopped right at her knees and hugged every natural curve of her body. Her twist out was flawless and was pinned on top of her head, thick kinky bangs framing her face.

Natural African beauty wasted on a deadbeat boyfriend.

“Listen to me. You’re the smartest woman I have ever bothered to keep in my life, you’ve worked hard to get to where you are, you know who you are, and you know what you do. Be yourself and don’t try to be a hero. It’s annoying.” You snorted, smiling softly at her before wringing out your hands.

“Plus, you’re hot as fuck, if words don’t work just push up your tits.”

You smacked her hands off your shoulders, the action only making her chuckle.

“Don’t worry, your little office crush will definitely see that fat ass of yours.”

“Jesus Christ, Ome!”

Her chuckles ripped through the air as the elevator doors finally opened.

Being on the 48th floor of a 50 story skyrise definitely felt different from your office in Sendai. A simple receptionists desk was the first thing you both saw. Large and decorated with a fresh bouquet of roses, a woman with a name you didn't have time to learn and bright blue hair greeted you both and directed you past her. The small hallways leading away from her desk gave way to the rest of the entire office floor which was bustling with activity. It was so much more spacious than your own; intricately designed to have many cubicles up against the floor to ceiling glass windows and hallways leading to private offices and breakrooms separately. The center of the floor was open and complete with rich brown couches and a coffee table in the center to make for an open relaxing area for coworkers and visitors. The walls were decorated with minimalistic design, plants and flowers adorned corners and climbing vines wrapped around the cubicles. Even though everyone seemed to be so busy, it felt quite cozy for an office.

Jin rose from one of the couches when he spotted us, his pink locks like a beacon.

“You both look beautiful. Let me show you to the conference room before the rest of the team arrives.”

The Tokyo office had rented out a venue for the summit to house all their events for the week, but Jin wanted his team to actually meet with the branch a day before the festivities were set to begin. Today would just be a meet and greet on a more personal level. Even though that personal level would include various directors and the Vice President.

You smoothed your hands down your pants again as the looming anxiety slowly began to pull its way up your legs. No one looked your way as you walked past them, which should have been more than enough to calm you down.

“You’re looking pretty good from back here.”

Ome’s quiet voice mocked, her words curling around a good natured chuckle as her heels clicked on the floor behind you. You whirled around to glare at her, an elegant brow arching back at you in challenge.

“Quit it!” you hissed under your breath.

“Don’t frown, y/n. You don’t want your boo to see you so upset.”

You gaped openly at her before turning back around in silence, your face heating instantly. It’s not that Ome’s words were mean. They were blunt, just like her because you knew she was only acting this way to make you see how stupid you were being. You knew your stuff. You could probably walk into that conference room and take over if you needed to.

You were going to be fucking fine. And as far as the ‘crush’? It was completely illogical.

For all you knew, Nanami Kento had no idea you even existed.

The feelings were miniscule and stupid to entertain. He was serious in almost every interaction when it came to work. Monthly company video calls gave you a glimpse of the man behind the deep but distinctive voice. He was quick and to the point, never beating around the bush, and always one to express his disdain for open ended questions. He didn’t rise to his position out of sheer luck.

Nanami had never spoken a word to you. Never sent an IM to ask about project plan updates. Never called you on the phone to praise you on the last account you brought to the company.

But he had the most detailed reports you had ever read in your life. He wore odd glasses from the chances you could glance at him through the computer camera that always seemed to make your stomach flip. He seemed to be disconnected from the people around him but incredibly steadfast and involved with his work and the quality it brought to the company. Smart, efficient, and handsome as hell.

None of your current emotions made any sense.

Just a stupid teenage rom-com crush that would probably not have the happy ending of the guy finally noticing you and deciding to ask you out on a date.

But that didn’t stop you from putting together an outfit that was modest enough to show how professional you were but form fitting enough to show off your body.

If your words don’t work, show off your tits.

Dammit, Ome.

The cold air from the conference room shocked you out of your thoughts. The adjacent wall was complete floor to ceiling windows, brightening the large room and making it feel less sterile. The small group of people already present stood upon your entry and bowed gently.

“Welcome!” The voice was loud and gruff, the source a tall and well built man with sharp and rough features. Dark brown short hair that was shaved on all sides but spiky at the top, thick dark brown eyebrows and an even thicker mustache and goatee.

Stopping in front of you all, he smiled, the delightful gesture a sharp contrast to his serious exterior.

“Masamichi Yaga. It’s so wonderful that you all could join us today. I hope this week will be as exciting as we made it out to be in the itinerary.”

Jin shook his hand.

“I’m sure we will. The rest of our team should arrive shortly. For now, these are the two I told you about who keep everything smooth and efficient. Omelia Obeje, one of our Data and Analytics Specialists…”

Ome bowed politely, a gentle smile on her usually serious face.

“Pleased to meet you sir. Itadori-san likes to boast us both but,” she tilted her head towards you. “She’s the real brains of the team.”

You widened your eyes minutely, the anxiety that was sliding at up your legs now coming back alive to inch its way up your stomach with the intent to wrap around your throat. You bowed to cover your expression.

“F/n, L/n, sir. Jin and Omelia are incredibly modest, but I’m pleased to meet you.”

Yaga introduced you to everyone in the room. Everyone was polite and offered conversation, even going as far as to ask you about life in Sendai. But the brightest of the group were three interns that Yaga was doing his best to tutor. The most excited of the bunch, Itadori Yuji, was a stark contrast to his father’s calm and gentle demeanor. He bowed a little too sharply, his pink locks such an odd sight to see on someone else besides your boss. His friend, Kugisaki Nobara, took every opportunity to cut him off, speaking over him and lifting her chin with every exclamation as a means to assert dominance in the trio. The tallest was the most quiet, deep blue locks in natural disarray as he bowed politely and introduced himself in an equally quiet voice as Fushiguro Megumi.

You could feel your nerves settling slowly, and whatever body language you were giving off was enough for Ome to slide back next to you after a lull in conversation, quiet and withholding.

“You’re doing well.” She was teasing again but the hint of affection was enough to make you roll your eyes and smile at her. “Have you even thought about what you’re going to say to him?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, the question making your mind stutter as you scrambled for an answer. “You know…besides ‘Hello, my name is y/n. I’m the best at my job, I have a fat ass and I could rock your world if you let me.’”

You rolled your eyes for what felt like the 12th time of the morning, the corners of your lips curling up into a smile before you snorted at her.

“I’m serious, y/n. Any man would be lucky to even ask you out on a date. Be confident in yourself.”

That was the odd thing about Ome. As much as her words were blunt and cold, she could make you also feel like the best person in the room. At least she did with you anyway.

You hadn’t really had luck with relationships in the past. And it was simply because you never had the time. College was just as busy as high school. Your spare time was often spent on small hobbies, hanging out with Ome and other friends, and working part-time to pay your bills and stay ahead in every aspect of your life.

When you did entertain the thought of something with a man, it was always short-lived. You were too rigid with giving into compromise, too work obsessed, too busy thinking ahead and not living in the moment. At least thats what they told you. The one relationship that was long-term had ended so terribly that you didn’t leave your apartment for a month. So by the time you had graduated college, you were resigned to entertain a one night stand a few times a year and the comfort of your vibrator that never failed you.

Whatever words Ome was speaking to you at the time seemed to ebb into the background as a tall man—or probably the tallest man you had ever seen—walked up to you both. His snow white hair hung loose on his head, falling in layers and covering a fresh undercut. His face was soft, but his jaw sharp with full lips and smooth skin. But the most jarring were his eyes. Bright blue orbs that seemed to glow even in the sunlight, thick eyelashes that matched his hair color framed the exotic orbs as they gazed at you and Ome both. He was probably the most beautiful man you had ever seen.

He introduced himself as Satoru Gojo, Director of Product Management, and like all men who manage to breathe the same air as Ome, was transfixed with her immediately.

“Are you single?”

The question made you chuckle sharply. A high executive blatantly flirting with a colleague was ballsy. But he seemed like the type to do exactly what he wanted and give a shit about it some other time. Or just not give a shit about it at all.

Ome simply raised a brow at him.

“It’s only 8am, how very desperate.”

His bright eyes seemed to flash with mirth. “I’m just surprised there aren’t more people over here trying to talk to you.”

If it was an attempt to flirt, he wouldn’t get far with her.

“I hate vague innuendos and I’m not interested. Do you mind moving out of the way, Beanpole? You’re blocking the sunlight.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying desperately to not laugh as you watched Gojo gape at her in shock, confusion, and then outright joy as he smiled pearly whites down at her.

“You think I’m tall—”

“Gojo, bothering our colleagues is not the most logical way to spend your time.”

His voice made your stomach drop instantly, the hairs on the back of your neck rising but not our of fear as his tall frame stopped next to Gojo. He wasn’t as tall as Gojo, but you could hardly tell the difference. His blonde hair was fuller than you thought now that you could see him in the flesh, with locks combed back perfectly and parted along the side. The same odd glasses you remembered from video calls sat perched on his nose and you could just make out brown irises through his dark frames thanks to the sunlight. A hard cut jaw and cheekbones, and full lips pressed into a relaxed line made his expression just as serious as you remembered. A muscular but lean frame sat beneath a rich ensemble of deep tan slacks and a blazer, a navy blue button up with a spotted yellow and black tie.

Jesus fuck.

Nanami Kento bowed to you both, introducing himself as the Director of Strategic Partners. You knew. Of course, you knew. You had seen his fine print on many reports from recent projects next to Yaga’s name. To be so actively involved with the Vice President had to have been an honor.

After Ome introduced herself, she jerked her head in the direction of Gojo.

“Is he always this thirsty?”

“Unfortunately. Please ignore him.”

He shifted away from Gojo’s protesting form, eyes falling on you. You cleared your throat and bowed softly as you introduced yourself, willing your voice to remain even and smooth as you felt his steady gaze.

Be confident. You got this. Say something.

But before you could even open your mouth to utter another word, Yaga and Jin had called the room to settle.

You managed to avoid Nanami for most of the day. When he was in your vicinity to speak, it was always in observation as he watched others engage with you instead. Ome kept her mouth shut, too busy insulting Gojo at every opportunity that he managed to speak to her. It was intriguing to watch and even funnier to realize he was probably bringing her the most entertainment in a very long time.

Ome was having the time of her life, however your current source of stress lay in front of you in the form of mahogany doors. A gold name plate gazed back at you, K. Nanami.

After an hour of intense work that you were given the ability to draft, Yaga and Jin had practically shoved you out of their office with the documents and the opportunity to work closely with Nanami for the week to learn from his point of view. It was perfect for you. You could gain more experience and try not to have a heart attack in his close proximity.

You made it a point to avoid Ome on the walk down to his office but now you couldn’t deny her words of ‘encouragement’ may have been helpful in this moment.

You clenched the manilla folder in your hands, taking a slow breath before squaring your shoulders and knocking on his door. His deep voice answered from the other side, beckoning you in.

The inside of his office was warmer than you were expecting. The room was clean and crisp, a large bookshelf against the wall filled with texts that you would have to look closely at some other time. A tall and well cared for Monstera Deliciosa was growing in another corner under the bright sunlight, and his walls were filled with plaques, certificates, and artwork that had your mind racing with intrigue. His own desk was large for you but seemed to suit his tall frame. And he sat behind it, his blazer off and hanging on his deep red chair, elbow resting on his desk and his chin resting on his fist, Nanami sat. His stature radiated indifference and you tried not to let that shake you as you closed his door and walked to stand in front of his desk.

“Itadori-san and Masamichi-san thought it would be a great opportunity if we worked closely together this week. I look forward to working with you.”

He didn’t respond immediately, harsh eyes analyzing you to a degree that had your hands gripping the manilla folder a little tighter.

“May I have those?”

The large hand propping up his chin folded out towards you, long fingers crooking back towards him as a means to hurry you along. You gave him the documents, throat dry as you struggled for something else to say. He seemed to really…not want you here. And as excited as you were to be in his presence, the indifference was enough to second guess walking in here.

“While I understand Yaga and Itadori-san's intentions, I’m afraid having someone else working with me this week is not feasible.”

Immediately, you felt your blood run cold, your face falling minutely.

“I don’t under—”

“Having someone else working with me is not feasible. It’s a very easy statement to grasp.”

All hints of anxiety seemed to fizzle out immediately, your crestfallen face slowly shaping into a glower.

“I don’t think I’ve done anything to you to warrant this kind of harshness, Nanami-san.”

You tried to smooth out the expressions on your face. There was no doubt he could clearly see the anger on your face. You had done everything right, had been nothing but polite to him. Even if he was busy with work, this kind of reaction was completely unnecessary.

He pulled in a deep breath, broad shoulders rising with the movement as he looked away from you and instead flipped through the documents you had given him.

“I’ve already allocated the resources that I need for this week. Your assistance isn’t wanted. Perhaps Gojo can show you how things work, because I’m unfortunately quite busy.”

He managed to spew it all out without looking up from his desk, long fingers idly pressing against the paper to help guide his eyes as he read. Your assistance isn’t wanted.

The indifference in the room quickly gave way to tension, making your stomach clench and twist as the anxiety began to make itself known again.

And almost immediately your patience had worn out.

“I know how things work—”

“I mean no disrespect.” He cut you off again, flaring the anger in your veins. “This happens every year when Yaga tries to push someone into my office during the annual summit and I have to walk them through the basics.”

You clenched your fists against the sides of your pants, red beginning to cloud the edges of your vision. Walk you through the basics? As if you were an intern fresh out of college, desperate to learn but lacking any of the skills necessary to succeed.

You suddenly didn’t find him very admirable at all as he opened his mouth to speak again.

“I don’t have the time—”

“Saying it twice doesn’t make you sound smarter.” The harsh tone coming out of your mouth shocked you, but you didn’t let it show as you glared at him. “I can see that you’ve already made up your mind about me even though you’ve hardly said a word to me.” His eyes widened minutely before narrowing. You jutted your chin out toward the papers beneath his hand.

“When you’re done looking at the same word over and over, you’ll find the content schedule, marketing plan, and a partially drafted work agreement.” He gaze didn’t falter, but you could see the slight ruddiness in his cheeks. From what, you didn’t really care to try and figure out. What a stupid mistake this was.

“Don’t look so put out. I put it together and Masamichi-san approved them. That should check a few things off your list. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to see if Gojo-san has ‘something for me to do’”.

You didn’t bother to look at his reaction as you whirled around and walked briskly from his office, slamming the large door on your way out.

Like you said before. Your emotions towards him made no sense at all.

After all, this wasn’t a fucking teenage rom-com.

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loversj0y · 10 months

Note

omg congratulations on 200!!!! you deserve it :) it would be lovely if you could do so it goes or i think he knows for the event!!! once again so happy for you❣️

i think he knows

event masterlist

paring: wilbur soot x gn! barista reader

tws: alcohol, slightly suggestive (taylor was on something when she wrote this okay?) notes: this is my first time writing any sort of coffee shop au so it was very fun!

word count: 977

taglist: @l0veb0mb1ng / @core-queen / @zooone / @lillylvjy / @ghostsacrosslndnfields / @melunnek

Crushes were weird. You used to absolutely hate having them, especially when they came quickly. But for whatever reason, this cafe stranger changed that.

He showed up every day around 2pm and always ordered the same thing. He always chatted with you as well, especially given that 2pm came post-lunch rush so the place was mostly empty. You learned about him quickly. His name was Wilbur, and he worked in editing out of an office around the corner. He played guitar in a band, and he really like geography.. He was hot, as well, tall and with slightly curly brown hair that you wanted to know desperately what it felt like to run your hands through his hair. Not to mention, he had a fantastic fashion sense (for the most part) which just added to your attraction.

When he showed up that day, you felt your heartbeat quicken, and it felt euphoric. He flashed you a grin, and you grinned right back at him, having long done away with any notions of being subtle.

You leaned up against the counter, “Hey, Wilbur,” you already began punching in his order, “How’s today?”

Wilbur chuckled, leaning his arms on the counter, and you were shameless in the way you peered at his forearms. “Today’s been good. Was the lunch rush bad?”

“Other than the business guy whose coffee I almost spit in, not bad.”

“Classy,” he joked, paying for his drink with a smile, “You should’ve. He probably deserved it.”

“I wouldn’t give him the privilege of tasting my spit,” you shrugged, smirking a bit.

Before he could respond, you turned to make his drink. At this point, your flirting was entirely obvious. And, maybe it was the crush making you feel seventeen again, but God you just had to find some way to really get through to him. So what if it was a bit juvenile. Your phone number written across a cardboard drink holder was a strong way to get the message across. He took his drink, and he gave a smile at the number written there. He waved goodbye on his way out, and it wasn’t long before he texted you, making quick plans to meet for a small date not far from here for the next day.

It was nice, a small and cozy pizza place. You spent a lot of time getting ready, wanting to look really nice. You drove as well, not wanting to risk being late. You got there five minutes early, around 7:25pm. He was already there, sitting in a booth and sipping on a beer. Even from afar, he looked amazing. He was in a black button up with black pants and a white and blue racer jacket on top. You watched as he lifted his glass, taking a sip of his beer, and you felt your face heat up as you walked up.

He placed the glass down once he saw you, grinning softly and standing.

“Hey, you made it.” He grinned, hugging you quickly.

You hugged him back with a smile, “Of course I did. Wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

He pulled away, looking over you quickly, “You look fantastic. Weird seeing you in something other than an apron for once,” he joked.

“Hey, that apron must be pretty flattering if you actually texted me.”

He flushed a bit, “I guess that’s true. I can’t say it isn’t flattering.”

You grinned, both of you sitting down. There was something so natural about being around Wilbur. Despite the ever-present stuttering of your heart, there was something so comfortable about being around Wilbur. It felt like making yourself at home, conversations rolling easily, as if you were old friends. You both ordered food and carried on talking, and the date felt as natural as breathing.

The best thing was how easily he made you laugh. His storytelling ability alone allowed small details to become central conversations, and his jokes always made laughter bubble up in your chest. Even better was his smile. When he saw you laugh at his jokes, he always had a wide grin, his smile lyrical and beautiful. You’d never wanted anything more. And he absolutely knew.

As he spoke, you could feel yourself getting lost in thoughts of a future with him. You wanted to know more about him, even with everything he’d already told you. You wanted to spend time with him and see the darker parts of him. You needed to actually be properly together for that to actually happen, but you wouldn’t let yourself get caught up in the details.

“You’re zoning out on me,” he chuckled, taking a sip from his drink.

“Only a little,” you smiled.

“Care to share?”

“Can’t say I do,” you smirked softly, but you had the sense he didn’t even need the clarity to know what was going on in your head, “What do you say we get out on here?”

He smiled, nodding, “Alright. I walked here, so,”

“Oh, it’s alright. I can drive.” You hummed, and he smiled, nodding and standing. You took his hand, walking him out to your car and getting in quickly.

If you were worried about your own boldness, he didn’t let you feel it for a moment as once you’d both settled into the car, he lightly set a hand on your thigh.

You shivered a bit under the contact, looking over at him.

“So,” he started, “Where are we going to go?”

You smiled, “I have a few ideas.”

“Oh? I think I know.”

You smirked, whispering, “Where are we going to go?”

“Yours or mine?”

“Yours.” You hummed, and he nodded, giving you his address quickly.

You started driving, and as much as you knew that you wanted him, you knew even more that you didn’t have to tell him. You had a feeling he already knew.

#mar's 200 follower event #mar writes #wilbur soot x reader #mcyt x reader #dsmp x reader #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x y/n #wilbur

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harrisonarchive · 1 year

Photo

A style selection, 1956-1969.

A continuation of sorts from this post.

“[George’s] idea, which he ordered [in Liverpool in the 1950s], was a four-button jacket with cloth-covered buttons. Two breast pockets which were slitted (jetted) and in the shape of a bird in flight, the two side pockets corresponded. The cuffs had to be folded back with a cloth-covered button. His trousers had no pleats in the front, not normal in those days, and he was by far the very first person to have two slits at the bottom side seam of the trouser and he wanted them folded back with cloth covered buttons to match the cuffs on his jacket. The workshop queried the order when they received thinking we had gone bonkers. George got his suit and was pleased with the outcome. Later lots of guys were walking about town with cut back cuffs and side seams on their trousers, but George was the first.” - Rollo Torpey, The Beatles and Me (2015)

“At Iris’s 14th birthday party, I remember George turned up in a brand-new, Italian-style stuff with covered buttons. He looked very grown-up.” - Violet Caldwell (mother of Iris, and Alan, a.k.a. Rory Storm), The Beatles Monthly September 1965

“[George’s mother Louise] took an unusually benign view of George’s luminous pink shirts, yellow waistcoat, and drainpipe trousers.” - Pete Shotton, The Beatles, Lennon, And Me (1984)

“Going in for flash clothes, or at least trying to be a bit different, as I hadn’t any money, was part of the rebelling. I never cared for authority. They can’t teach you experience; you’ve got to go through it, by trial and error.” - George Harrison, The Beatles: The Authorized Biography (1968)

“At the Institute, George was known from the beginning as a way-out dresser. Michael McCartney, Paul’s brother, was a year below him. He remembers George always having long hair — years before anybody else did. […] ‘George used to go to school with his school cap sitting high on top of his hair,‘ says Mrs. Harrison. ‘And very tight trousers. Unknown to me, he’d run them up on my machine to make them even tighter. I bought him a brand-new pair once and the first thing he did was tighten them. When his dad found out, he told him to unpick them at once. “I can’t, Dad,” he said. “I’ve cut the pieces off.”’” - The Beatles: The Authorized Biography (1968)

“I’d started to develop my own version of the school uniform. I had some cast-offs from my brother. One was a dog-toothed check-patterned sports coat, which I’d dyed black to use as my school blazer. The color hadn’t quite taken, so it still had a slight check design to it. I had a shirt I’d bought in Lime Street, that I thought was so cool. It was white with pleats down the front. and it had embroidery along the corners of the pleats. I had a waistcoat that John had given me, which he’d got from his ‘uncle’ Dykins (his mother’s boyfriend), Mr. Twitchy Dykins. It was like an evening-suit waistcoat — black, double-breasted, with lapels. The trousers John also gave me, soon after we first met — powder-blue drainpipes with turn-ups. I dyed them black as well. And I had black suede shoes from my brother. […] That outfit of mine was very risky, and it felt like all day, every day, for the last couple of years I was going to get busted. In those days we used Vaseline on our hair to get the rock n’ roll greased-back hairstyle. Also, you were supposed to wear a cap and a tie, and a badge on your blazer. I didn’t have my badge stitched on, I had it loose. It was held in place by a pen clipped over it in my top pocket, so I could remove it easily, and the tie.” - George Harrison, The Beatles Anthology (2000)

“He was always a pretty snappy dresser, and he did always like that waistcoat look. And he used to wear a V-neck Fair Isle jumper. Sometimes he’d be a little too outrageous, like purple trousers with bright green, but it was fine. Everything seemed to be fine then.” - Pattie Boyd, interview for the British Beatles Fan Club

“The boys are wearing all sorts of fantastic clothes for their film and introduce a very new, unusual gimmick. If they’re wearing corduroy, for example, then they have corduroy boots to match. If they’re seen in velveteen suits, then they’re coupled with velveteen boots. George first thought of the idea two years ago, but when he put the idea to a local bootmaker, he told him it couldn’t be done. Well, that’s one cobbler that’s been proved wrong.” - The Beatles Monthly, June 1965 (x)

#George Harrison #quote #quotes about George #1950s #1960s #Pete Shotton #Vi Caldwell #Rollo Torpey #Pattie Boyd #The Beatles #Harrison style #:)#Paul McCartney #John Lennon #Ringo Starr #fits queue like a glove

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coleskingdom · 20 days

Text

Cold

Jay White x f reader

NSFW Minors DNI 18+

For @madhatterbri you wanted jealous the man is United Empire green. Thank you @midwestmade29 for reading and going back and forth with me.

“You look fantastic. What are your plans with Skye tonight?” as Jay helped clasp the necklace as I put on lipgloss. “Honestly not sure, she just said we were going out for dinner and drinks. It’ll be fun.” knowing the question coming next. “Is old golden boy and his boyfriend going out joining you and Skye this evening ?” I roll my eyes in the mirror looking at him “Honestly I’m not sure, but if you weren’t t so grumpy you should come with me.” smiling sweetly. “No thanks but if you want to stay in, I can think of a few things more interesting than taking dinner and drinks.” his beard tickling me as he leaned into kiss my neck. “ Jay, I’m looking forward to this , but those interesting ideas I want to hear about them when I get back.” Pulling away and heading out the door.

Of course my luck would have it that Will and Kyle both were there. I tried to relax as I sat next to Skye, “You okay” she asked a bit of concern in her voice, “Yeah I’m alright, but I can already feel my phone going off.” Sighing reaching for my phone. Answering the FaceTime, “Hey, what’s up?” my voice cheerful, “How’s dinner? How’s Skye?” his voice too cheerful “We’re good, here with Kyle and Will” my voice hesitant but Skye leaned in “Hey Jay” Skyes voice “I’ve got our girl and I’ll get her home safe tonight.” I could tell from his quick answer back that he wasn’t thrilled . He let her go, and Skye handed me back the phone. “Shake it off. Have some fun.” ordering another round for the table. Dinner was so much fun, and I agreed to go out dancing with them. I dance with Kyle , Skye and Will when some girl spilled her drink on my top. “Hey take my jacket, go clean up in the bathroom.” Will stripping off his jacket. “ Thanks I appreciate it more than you know. Whatever it was. It’s sticky “ taking it gratefully. I went to the bathroom and changed glancing at my phone.

Jay-

You didn’t mention anything about spending the night grinding on Will.

I found Skye “ Hey I’m gonna go, I need to get home.” she hugged me, “Go home and get your man” I laughed half heartedly.

I was outside the door of the house when I realized that I was in Wills jacket, the united empire green with the Billy goat symbol. I had no choice but to walk in.

“Sweetheart there you are coming home in your new lovers jacket” the bottle of scotch on the table nearly empty . “Jay a girl spilled her drink on me. Will offered me his jacket that’s all.” my voice calm. “Did he lick you clean?” the jealous tone maddening. “ Yes Jay, he took off my shirt in the middle of the club, and licked my chest. Then I got to wear his jacket as a prize.” throwing my wet shirt and bra at him.

“Bravo, the award for pretending that she didn’t enjoy grinding on Golden Boy goes to you my dear.” Raising his glass to me. I reach for it “Your obsessed with this thing with Will. Is that what you want to see me fuck him Jay while you watch? Do you want me to take him in my mouth? Do you want me to straddle him and ride him all night ? Since you already think he licked me what if he puts my knees to my shoulders and just ruins me. Which is it?” looking him dead in the eyes as I drink his scotch.

I saw the flash in his eyes before he was on me. “There she is my little vixen. No the only one that gets any of that is me. “ He kisses me roughly , his mouth tastes of the scotch , his hands threaded through my hair holding me to him. Releasing me his hands reach for the zipper of the jacket, pulling it down and throwing it in the floor. I moan as his mouth finds my neck tilting my head giving him better access as one of his hands grips the back of the neck walking us backwards. My ass hits the back of the dining room table,as his hands now focus on the buttons of my jeans. My hands going to the hem of his shirt pulling it off of him. He let me run my hands over him and kissing him, the man was intoxicating. “I’m going to give you something golden boy could never .” I bite his lower lip “ Shut up about him and fuck me.” a low growl in his chest. “That’s it darling girl tell me, tell me what you want.” His breath against my ear my nipples hard against his body. “Turn around” the heat in his voice sends a jolt of desire through me. I do as he asks my bare torso against the cold wood of the table. He finishes pulling off my jeans and panties as I spread my legs a little bit further apart, and arch my back at him. My lips part as I feel the first slide of his fingers. “You’ve been thinking about this, the question is which one of us gets you this wet?” His fingers moving faster, then disappear from my body. “I asked you who Sweetheart?” I feel his cock pressed against my entrance “Jay it’s always been and will forever be you “ I moan as he slides all the way in.

This is the Jay White of the early days in the ring and in our relationship. The seemingly cold, volatile arrogant bastard who intrigued me like no one else, who took me where and when he wanted, with no apologies but full of passion.

Rough, calloused hands slide over my curves to fit beneath me, one settling on my clit, seizing the bundle of nerves between his thumb and finger; the other to cup the front my neck, securing me gently as his body folds over mine, until his chest meets my back, all while he continues mercilessly driving into me.

"You're mine."

"I'm yours."

"I want this to work between us."

"Yes!" I manage to get out through pants.

"You're about to come," he grits out, his cock swelling more inside me with each thrust, telling me he's not far behind me. His fingers, now slick, work against my clit with a sense of urgency, hard and fast circles that make me want to spread my legs wide for him.

The rush hits me and my muscles begin to contract. In answer, he angles his hips to thrust harder into me, the sensation so overwhelming I'm unable to hold back my cries of ecstasy as a mind-paralyzing, explosive orgasm rips through my body, leaves me a quivering mess.

"Fuck!" Jay presses his mouth against the back of my neck to muffle his cries. I can feel his cock pulsing inside me, spilling his release into me, leaving me slick and sore and so utterly satisfied.

Silence surrounds us as we lie on the table, limp, him draped on top of me, his heartbeat pounding against my back.

He pulled himself from me ,then left as I tried to regain my composure. I heard the bath tub running, he came back from our room with my robe and put it on me gently. “Go get in the tub while I make you something and get you a bottle of water.” he kissed me and sent me on the way. I hear my phone ring Jay answers it as I settle deep into the tub the warmth enveloping my body as I close my eyes.

#switchblade jay white x reader #aew fanfic #aew fanfiction #aew smut #switchblade jay white smut #jay white smut #jay white x you

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heartfullofleeches · 2 years

Text

A blurb to further elaborate on my hybrid cafe idea with a rabbit customer:

The bell above the Cafe door chimes with the arrival of a new customer. Blindly, the patron walks past the colorful waiting up to the front desk; coat pulled over his features as he shuffles through. He pulls the fabric from over his lips as the receptionist on hand smiles at him, the gesture making him want to sink back into the comfort of the cloth as his face grows warm.

"Hello there! Welcome to the Forever Yours Master Cafe. Where we strive to always make people feel at home. What can I do for you?"

The male shrinks being put on the spot like that. "Um- well... A.. friend told me about this place and I want to try it out. A table for one, please?"

"Fantastic. Let's grab you a booth, shall we? Follow me."

The server grabs a menu as they lead him over to a booth. They walks past a few other scenes on the way. A dog being feed treats. A cat scratched behind the ears. A hand reaches down to grab the waiter as they across the next table; head resting against their thigh as a mix between a purr and a whine leaves the sitting person's throat.

"Y/n, I'm booored. Pay attention to me."

The catboy looks up at you with his blue eyes and a pout. There were already two other maids taking care of him, but this one craved attention from everyone in the store, most importantly yours. You gently push his head away from your apron as you offer the kindest smile you can.

"As you might be able see, I'm currently taking care of another customer, Saber. On top of that, I'm not doing floor work at the moment. I'll come by before you leave, alright?"

Saber huffs. "You know I'm not leaving unless you do."

With the detour out of the way, you finally reach your destination; setting the menu on the bright pink table. Your grin becomes warm once more as you offer the customer his seat.

"Sorry for all that! I'll get you your server now. Since you have a reference, is there anyone specific you'd like to see?"

The male thinks back to your earlier expression, and the one you dawn one. He blushes more. "Um... How long is it till you're available?"

You pause for a second, pulling out your notepad. "My break just ended, so I guess I'll be your server today! Before we begin, would you like to take your coat off? It's okay if you shy."

The male looks down at his coat. He looks around at the other customers, undoing the first button. He neatly folds it and sets it beside him; reaching for his hat. Two rabbit eats pop from beneath the cap, sticking straight atop his head. Their snow white just like his hair, a single black spot on the right one.

"How adorable!" You chime. "If- you're okay with me calling you that. While we're on the topic, what is your name/what you'd prefer to be called?"

"My name is Clyde... but you can call me anything you want. I don't have any specifics or dislikes.."

You inspect his features. "Hm... I'll call you Spot for now if that's alright. You can call me whatever as well, but as you heard my name is Y/n. What I get you anything to start off with?"

Spot flushes from the nickname. It's not the first time he's been given it, but it feels different in this situation. He picks up the menu with a shaky hand.

"Y-yes.. I'll just have the carrot cake and a hot chocolate, please."

"Can do! Carrot cake is pretty popular right now, but I'm sure we have a slice ready just for you."

You head to the back to put in his order, while Spot tries to rub away the redness of his face. He's barely talked to you, and this is your job, but you're so cute and nice to him. Not to mention you smell good. He was just a little curious about this place, but he didn't expect things to be like this.

You return with his order a couple minutes later. Normally, you'd spend some time with him with it was being prepared, but everything was pretty done after you sent it in. You place the dessert and drink on the table, both decorated with whipped cream and flakes of sugar.

"Would you like to me sit beside you, or leave you be?"

Spot scoots over, avoiding your gaze. "Please do what you do with everyone else."

You nod, taking your place beside him. Spot picks up the cup. A heart is decorated over the cream with a chocolate powder. He wonders if you made it. It makes his chest feel funny. He takes a sip, immediately diving in for now. The hot chocolate was creamy and rich; sweet, but not too over powering. He sighs in content as he pulls the cup from his lips. You smile, reaching behind his ears to give them a stroke.

"Ah-!" The calm look on his face is crossed with one of embarrassment as you gently scratch behind his ears. He hums at the comfort it brings, words slipping before his brain can process them. "Master- don't do that in public!"

He covers his mouth with his hands as you pull away. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to call you that."

You laugh. "Sorry? That's what this place is for, bunny. Don't worry about the small things and let master feed you."

You pick up the floor, cutting off a bite size portion and holding it up to Spot's mouth. He leans in and takes the bite; both of you unaware to the eyes hovering over you from another booth.

You hand feed him the entire cake, allowing him to rest his head on your lap once finished and stretch his legs out over the rest of the booth. His right leg twitches as you stroke your hand down his body; calling him your sweet rabbit as he details all of the hardships he's gone through recently in life. He feels the sincerity in your words. That, even though he's a stranger, in this moment he's home. This would become a regular thing for him. He wondered what the inside of yours looked like.

#yandere hybrid #yandere oc #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere insert #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere teratophilia #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere monster #yandere blurb #yandere drabble #yandere writing #male yandere

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gimmethosedaddymilkers · 1 year

Text

Cardinal Sins and Other Desires

Okay, I know I have other requests that were submitted first, but I this weekend is a writing weekend because I need to decompress my mind and I wanna do something fun

But this one was requested by @cantchoosejust1 who offered a very interesting idea of Arthur and reader having to disguise themselves as a priest and a nun....and have some...interesting times.

I-

The idea is so juicy I had no choice but to do it.

This is my take on it but of course @cantchoosejust1 if it doesn’t match your expectations I’d love to take another stab at it!

It’s also probably gonna be a bit of a longer read, so strap in!

With that being said

Warnings!: NSFW, Uhhh religious type things but it’s sexy so like....if that offends you don’t read, arthur being delicious, female reader

Tags!: @mrsarthurmorgan7 @kieropal @photo1030 @pcotarelo @6kaja9

Alright, that being said, everyone, hold onto your butts, let’s get this horny train rolling!

“Dutch, this has got to be your dumbest idea yet.”

Arthur scoffs as he looks down at the ridiculous looking outfit that Hosea and Dutch have managed to just barely squeeze him into, his arms raised out to his sides.

A set of Priest’s robes that match the Nun outfit you’re wearing, and you can’t help but agree with him, you feel absolutely idiotic wearing the long black robe with it’s white accents and hood.

The black robe Arthur dons is plain, matching black buttons, and something similar to a miniature poncho rests against his shoulders, that signature white collar sits around his neck, but if it’d been a single size smaller he’d be choking.

“I have to agree.” You sigh and look down at yourself, and at the rosary beads that Hosea had placed in your hand. “This is a stupid idea. The two of us couldn’t pass off as religious figures, are you kidding me? I couldn’t quote a single thing from the Bible.”

Arthur snorts in agreement and puts his arms down to his sides, looking up at his two father figures with a grimace on his face.

It was early evening, and Shady Belle seems far more inviting than going out into Saint Denis, into a Church of all places too.

“The two of you need to look on the logical side of this!” Dutch crosses his arms and stares at the two of you, his nostrils flaring in annoyance. “That Church has money in it, I know it does. We got a decent tip on it, and this is the best way to get in there and get it without causing a huge scene.”

“Why us though?” You can’t help but let the question slip out of your mouth.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like working with Arthur, quite the opposite actually. Arthur was fantastic to work with, he got the job done right, and he got it done quick, usually, if he could. He was precise, and he was good at what he did.

The only problem between the two of you working is that you were often distracted watching him work. It was obnoxiously attractive to watch him reload his gun in the middle of a gun fight, his back against his wall and the calmest look on his face, sometimes annoyance, but never fear. It was one of the best things about him.

That was about the only thing that ever-caused problems working with him.

That and the fact that the two of you tended to get along a little too well if you’re left alone for too long.

In both of your defenses the two of you have been together for nearly two years now, so it was only natural that it happened.

But, your question, it was more directed at why the two of you for THIS specific job.

If anyone was suited for this kind of job it was Mary-Beth, Karen, maybe even Hosea himself, but Arthur? You?

Arthur wasn’t exactly known for his play acting, or for his subtly.

“Because, the two of you are the best we have, you’ll get the job done, and the two of you are the only ones without jobs set up right now.” Hosea chimes in and quietly he walks towards Arthur, adjusting a part of his costume. “You’ll know what to do.”

“Arthur’s not exactly...” You swallow, trying to think of a nice way to say what you needed to. “He’s not really the stealthy type.” You finish.

“That’s why you’re going with him.” Hosea huffs. “We were told that there’s a stash of money in the basement of the church, as long as you and him can get there and get it that’s all that matters, if he goes to step out of line then you can step in and steer the situation right.”

“Don’t I get a say in all this?”

“No Arthur, you don’t.”

“So why not just send me in by myself?” You furrow your brow and cross your own arms now.

“Because you can’t pass as ‘Father Morgan’.” Dutch snorts.

“Ugh....’Father Morgan’.” Arthur shakes his head and looks towards the road leading out of camp, his horse and yours stand next to each other, grazing at the grass nearby.

“Come on you two! It’ll be fun, go out for drinks afterwards! Our treat!” Dutch moves closer to the younger man and claps his shoulder with a hand, shaking Arthur slightly with a huge smile on his face. “It’s just one job, I promise, no more outfits for you for a while after this one Arthur.”

Arthur sighs and rolls his eyes, but swallows and nods before taking a step towards the horses.

“C’mon Darlin’ let’s get this done with.”

You roll your eyes as well but follow behind offering a bit of a timid wave to the two older outlaws, moving quickly to keep up with Arthur, who even in his new outfit seems to move much faster than you could.

“This is ridiculous,” Arthur looks over his shoulder at you as the two of you reach your horses. “Look at this, look at me, I look stupid.”

You chuckle and smack his shoulder with the back of your hand as you mount up.

“You aren’t the only one Arthur, I look stupid in this get up too.”

“Not as stupid as me, I’m surprised this damn thing hasn’t ripped yet,” He sighs and mounts his own horse, struggling slightly with the tightness around his arms. “They couldn’t find anything bigger than this?”

“Apparently not,” You nod towards the road leading out. “Let’s get going cowboy, the sooner we get this done the sooner we can get out of these things.”

“You’re right, I know.”

He offers another sigh, but then turns to lead the two of you out of camp, setting off at a decent pace.

............

You lean your head against the side of Arthur’s bicep as the two of you lean around a wall, staring at the Church placed in a rather unfortunate location for the two of you.

It’s situated in nearly the center of attention, it’s not in an area that’s exactly easy for the two of you to sneak into it, the only way to go about it was to walk in with confidence that your disguises would work. ‘Stealth’ in the traditional sense wasn’t an option for the two of you two.

“Alright, so...” Arthur adjusts himself, standing a little straighter. “I guess we just walk in?”

“I guess, try to seem Pious, straighten your back, look confident for once Arthur.”

“Hey, I’m confident-”

“Yeah when you’re drunk and when you’re robbing, just....Imagine you’re....”

You stop and huff, turning to face him as he stands against the wall of the building the two of you have hidden yourselves behind.

“Play Dutch.” You finish.

“Play Dutch?”

“You know, be....fuck Arthur just be obnoxious. Everything you do, pretend it was planned out, if you’re confident about it they won’t question a single thing.”

“You think Dutch is obnoxious?” Arthur makes a sound that borders between a snort and a full laugh as he looks at you.

“Of course I do, but that’s not important right now.” You look back towards the church. “Just...Like I said be confident.” You reach up and gently move a lock of his hair behind his ear, it’s not too long, not enough seem out of place, but he definitely should have gotten it trimmed.

“I know, it’s a mess.” He huffs and reaches up, covering your hand with his own. “Didn’t get the chance to stop and cut it with everythin’ goin’ on in camp. It’s gettin’ too long.”

“Just keep it out of your face, you did good with your stubble, looks clean.”

“Good, now, gimme a kiss before we do this.”

You can’t help but smile at him, and offer him a quick kiss, which he makes longer as one of his hands grips your waist tightly when your lips make contact with his.

He has a habit of deepening those kisses that you mean to be quick pecks, little messages of love that turn into something far more...promiscuous.

You finally manage to pry yourself away from him, suppressing a laugh.

“Arthur, come on, we’re gonna get caught, now go, I’ll follow.”

“Alright, alright-” He starts to move away from you, but you grab his robe sleeve quickly.

“Sorry, don’t forget this.”

You thrust a bible into his hand, and then give him a slight push.

“Confidence Arthur!”

“Alright, I got it, I got it, jus’ come on, you gotta come with me anyhow.”

You wipe your hands on the front of your robes, feeling the palms of your hands get sweaty.

You stand a little straighter and follow after him as the two of you walk towards the church, trying to control the sudden set of nerves that have overcome your body.

It’s late, the sun had set on the way into Saint Denis, in theory there shouldn’t be anyone in the church, or at least there shouldn’t be too many people in there.

It was the middle of the week, there wasn’t a Sunday Service.

Hopefully things would be easy for the two of you, as long as you could keep the charade up.

Nearing the church you could see two nuns talking to one another outside the front door, arms held in front of themselves, one hand over the other, and you quickly mimic the posture as the two of you continue.

Luckily as you pass the two of them they do nothing but nod and smile at the two of you, which each of you return.

As you pass through the doors you lean a little closer to Arthur, keeping your voice quiet.

“You’re doing great Arthur.”

“I ain’t done anythin’ yet, that’s why.”

You shake your head and swallow back the remark you want to say as you look down at the rosary in your hand.

“Just look around, where’s the stairs to the basement in this place?”

“Don’t know, I ain’t ever been in here, I avoid the city and most religious places like the plague,” he whispers. “I’m surprised I ain’t burned up in flames yet.”

You elbow him as subtly as you can.

“Shut up, if anything the both of us would be in flames by now if that myth was true.”

“Mhm...Awful crime, that premarital sex.”

“Arthur, I think it’s several other crimes that would cause us problems before that one.”

“I guess you’re right, probably all the murder and robbin’.”

“You think?”

He offers a quiet chuckle, one of your favorite sounds, low and breathy, short and sweet. It’s cut off quickly as he looks to the left, seeing a door off to the side of the main room, away from the pews and podium.

“You think that leads down?”

“Don’t know, we’ll have to take a look.” You sigh and look around the room, it seems completely empty, at least from what you can see. “Let’s be quick about it.”

“Right.”

He leads you off towards the door, and as you reach it he opens it up, only to reveal a small closet that’s nearly empty, despite a broom in the corner and a few extra bibles on the top shelf.

“Damn, not it... We should look-”

“Get in the closet!”

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

Your body is sparking with a sudden rush of anxiety, a sound from your right had sent it through you within a matter of seconds. Voices, is what it sounded like to you, quiet, but there.

“Just get in!” You shove him into the closet and follow after, closing the door in front of you.

The two of you are shrouded in darkness easily, and your body brushes against him, your back to his chest, and you listen as he grunts after hitting his head on the shelf.

“Jesus Y/N, the hell are you doin’?” He’s whispering, but there’s a familiar anger in his voice, well, perhaps its more annoyance.

“I’m sorry I panicked! I heard voices over by the pews...”

“Well we’re dressed like this for a reason-”

“We can’t get out of here now, they’ll wonder why we were crammed in here together.”

“What, you’re sayin’ Priests don’t get freaky now and then?”

“Arthur you know they don’t.”

“It was sarcasm darlin’.”

You take a shaky breath and Arthur’s arm snakes around your waist and he pulls you flush against his body.

“It’s alright Darlin’, we’re fine. What’s goin’ on with you tonight?”

“I don’t know...something about a church, I feel like getting caught here is worse than getting caught in a bank.” You mumble.

“What, all that higher power nonsense?”

“I don’t know, society does not take likely to thieves of the church.”

“Darlin’ society don’t take a likin’ to any thieves I’m afraid.”

You chuckle quietly and lean against him.

“You always know what to say, you know that?”

“Mhm...I try...Now...you think you can take a peek out there, see if they’re gone?”

You take a breath and do as he suggests, opening the door quietly and slowly, peeking your head out just barely.

You listen, hardly moving, hardly breathing, until you realize you no longer hear anyone speaking.

“I think we’re good.”

You step out of the closet and Arthur follows suit, and that’s when you see another door.

It’s straight across from the one that you just exited, and without another word to Arthur you head towards it, and pull it open, a feeling of relief flooding over you as you see stairs heading downwards.

“Good Girl...” Arthur’s voice is nearly a growl in your ear as he leans over your shoulder, he knows how that gets to you, he does, but in this instance you’re fairly certain he’s done it unintentionally.

He’s got a habit of making things attractive when he doesn’t mean to.

“Thanks Father.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Would you prefer Daddy?”

“Not unless you wanna cause more problems for yourself Darlin’.”

You chuckle and begin to head down the stairs, Arthur following you and closing the door quietly behind him.

The basement is dark, and almost damp feeling, you can’t see a damn thing and Arthur doesn’t have his trusty lantern with him.

“Well now what?”

Arthur’s breath comes out warm against your shoulder and an arm wraps around your waist.

“I don’t know, let me think.” He mutters. “I got my matches in my pocket.”

“Your robes have pockets?”

“Course, yours don’t?”

“No, it’s a fucking dress, so is yours I didn’t figure you’d have pockets.”

“Please don’t refer to it as a dress, you’re ruinin’ my masculine reputation.”

You roll your eyes but your hand finds its way to his thighs, patting along the robe in an attempt to find said matches

Of course he has matches on him, he can’t go more than an hour or two without a smoke.

“Mhmm...careful, you’re gonna hit somethin’ else while you’re down there.”

“Why the hell are you so horny right now, I’m not even wearing anything revealing-”

“Maybe I’ve been possessed, need some holy water...”

“Arthur please, can we find the money?”

“I’m sure we can, but I’m sure I’d be a lot more focused after...”

“Are you serious right now?”

“Yeah, serious as a heart attack Sugar. Somethin’ about this place...somethin’ about that....the...shit...the idea of somethin’ like that in a place like this, a church...” He lowers his voice. “In public.....it’s doin’ somethin’ to me.”

You know he means it, you can feel his hardness against your rear, you’ve been able to feel it since the closet, you just refused to say anything.

The basement seemed like the safest place, if you were going to do this.

Not only that but Arthur wasn’t the only one who had this sort of feeling.

The idea of being caught...It was exhilarating, and the idea of being dressed as a nun, yet committing such lewd acts...

You swallow, and grip the rosary in your fist fairly tightly.

“Possessed by the devil, not a demon.” You mutter.

“Maybe you should exorcise me....you are a nun after all.”

You turn, and your eyes are finally adjusting to the darkness, you can see the look on Arthur’s face, the haze of red beginning to cover his cheeks.

“Maybe we need to fuck it out of you.”

“Seems like it’s what he wants...” Arthur murmurs and his hands reach for your waist, and that’s when you catch him.

The rosary slips around his wrists easily, it’s a long beaded string with a cross on the end, longer than it needs to be, but long enough it works perfectly.

You know he can break out of this makeshift bondage easily, but he won’t, at least not on purpose.

He watches, his eyes hungry as you wrap the rosary around his wrists as many times as you can.

“That’s new.” He snorts.

“Maybe that demon will be more willing to leave with a cross on him...”

You have no idea what’s convinced you to slip fully into this sort of romanticized sort of scenario. You know he isn’t possessed, you don’t even believe in that kind of stuff, but....the idea that the only way to expel that ‘demon’ is to fuck it out of him...

It’s doing something to you.

Luckily Arthur can catch on easily, and he follows your lead.

“Well, what the hell are you waitin’ for, you gonna fuck this demon, or are you gonna leave me tied?”

Quietly, you step forwards, and unbutton the lower buttons of his robe, following after that his union suit which even in the dark you can see the outline of his dick pressed against his thigh.

His cock springs out the moment you get it unbuttoned, and without much of a thought you lick the tip of it, listening as Arthur sucks in through his teeth.

From there you move to the base of him, and lick along his shaft, moving towards the tip before taking him into your mouth fully, and that lovely voice of his comes tumbling out of his mouth in a groan.

He rests his tied hands against the back of your head, gently pushing his wrists against it in an attempt to partially guide you, gripping, or at least attempting to grip, at the hood of your robe.

“Fuck....I didn’t....shit I didn’t realize I was that...sensitive...right now.” He breathes out.

You hum against his skin as you bob your head, and again he lets a groan out.

You don’t do this long, and his dick comes out of your mouth with a satisfying pop.

“Nah, that....that ain’t fair-”

“I said we’re gonna fuck it out of you Arthur, me sucking you off isn’t exactly a fucking.”

He’s silent at your remark and watches in the dim light as you shuffle and manage to get your undergarments off.

He watches as you kick them to the side and then motion for him to near you.

He follows orders, the opposite of his usual dominating demeanor, but that’s going to change soon.

You simply turn around and face the wall nearest to you, placing your hands against it, and then arching your back out towards him.

“Oh....shit.”

Arthur swallows, and it’s only a moment before his mind seems to be taken over.

His hands are still tied, but thanks to your earlier endeavor his dick is exposed, and all you have to do is pull up your skirt.

His arms come over your neck, his hands still confined, now settled against your collar bone as he manages to get his cock lined up with your slick.

He pushes into you roughly, enough to make you cry out, and from there he’s unable to move slowly.

His hips snap against yours, deeply, roughly, needily.

“Jesus Christ...” He huffs.

“He ain’t doing...much to help...you right now.” You manage to get out as your cheek rests against the wall, your body moving in tandem with Arthur’s, back and forth, your breasts grazing the wall.

“No...he ain’t....fuck....you sure you ain’t the devil?”

You twitch your hips, moving against Arthur in an attempt to get a deeper angle.

“Maybe...” Your face is hot, your neck too.

You listen to the sounds he makes, each little grunt or groan pushing you forwards.

“This ain’t very....fuck....this ain’t very holy of you.”

“Sometimes....you need different....solutions..”

There’s a noise the sounds from upstairs, and suddenly Arthur’s hands are pressed against your mouth as he continues to rut into you.

“Shhh....quiet Sugar...you don’t want us to be caught do you?” He whispers.

His thrusts get harder, and you bite down on his hand, the area you can get to, you think it’s the side of his thumb, doing your best not to hurt him, but it’s the only thing you can do to stop the moan building in your throat.

You love it when he’s rough with you, and this position, these clothes, getting caught now would only make things hotter.

You know exactly how Arthur would react, and a part of you hopes that someone will, but you know it’s for the best if they don’t.

“Fuck....’demons’....jesus...fuck...” Arthur’s attempt at another suave sentence fails as his hips smack yours again and again.

You lick his hand, leaving hot breath against his skin, and listen to him do his best to suppress a sound that rises to his throat.

“You tryna get us caught? For a Nun...you’re kinda....a slut...” He huffs out.

“Yours Father Morgan...” The words are uttered against the side of his hand in a whisper, but he hears it and he swallows, trying again to keep his voice from raising.

“Please....Harder...”

“Christ Woman, maybe you are possessed.”

“Harder...” You plea again, pushing your hips back against his, roughly hoping he takes the hint, which you’re lucky and he does.

“You know....I...fuck...I could finish you...if I had my hands....”

You offer a grunt in response and watch as he pulls his wrists apart and the beads scatter around the room, pinging against the floor in every direction.

His hands fly to their places almost like it’s instinct.

One against your throat and the other to your clit.

He circles it, matching up his speed with the thrusts against your ass.

“You thought you could keep me like that, but sorry Darlin’...I just couldn’t do it any longer.”

His voice is breathy, and he leans forwards, kissing your neck, listening to the sounds that escape your mouth,.

He only stops when the sound of the basement door comes.

He’s quick to move, his cock still buried inside you as he pulls you around the side of a wall.

No one would see you there, not unless they walked around.

He places a palm against your mouth and he leans his back against the wall, only to thrust upwards into you, slowly, making sure his body and yours wouldn’t make a sound.

“Someone down here? The church is closed for the night I’m afraid!”

Arthur moves slowly, his hips still gently rocking against yours, it’s nearly torture, and you want to beg him to move faster, but to quell it you bite his palm, just as you’d done earlier.

“Hello? Anyone?”

His dick pulls out gently, and he has to do his best to keep a groan in his throat.

“Must be hearing things.”

The two of you listen as the person heads back up the stairs and the door closes.

You let out a deep breath and as soon as you do Arthur’s pace picks up.

He’s fast, thrusting into you with a speed that seems like he’ll die without feeling you clench against him.

His hand comes back to your neck and the other back to your clit.

He’s persistent, and after a moment you know why.

His hips begin to get erratic, the rhythm and speed are off, and his breathing against your neck gets hotter, they turn from deep breaths into panting.

“Sugar....you nearly there? Princess...I’m....soon.”

You can’t do anything but nod, leaning your head against his shoulder as he keeps you moving.

The hand around your throat moves to cup your breast, squeezing it through the cloth.

“Love the way these bounce...” He mutters. “Even clothed it’s a sight...”

“Arthur,” You close your eyes, your arm moving to come around his neck, the other slapped against the wall.

“Mhm....you’re almost there, I can hear it in your....fuck...in your voice.”

It’s a few more of these hard fast thrusts and then suddenly there’s a warmth that fills you and you yourself come apart as Arthur’s fingers continue to circle your clit.

Arthur groans in your ear and puts his forehead against your shoulder, breathing deeply, trying to catch his breath.

You’re silent for a moment.

“You broke my rosary.”

“Oh, like you were ever gonna use it after this.”

“Maybe on you, back, back I say, may the power of Christ compel you-”

“Oh, you need more than Christ to compel me Darlin’.”

You chuckle and the two of you manage to get untangled, not before Arthur whispers in your ear about the mess he’s made.

“Gonna have me all over you, hidin’ under that outfit of yours....you ain’t exactly the Virgin Mary are you...”

“Shut up Arthur, the ‘demon’ is supposed to be gone, let’s find that damn money and get out of here, I’ll let you do whatever you want with me when we get back to camp.”

“Good, not like you were gonna stop me anyhow.”

#rdr2 #rdr2 community #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 drabble #arthur morgan smut

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larakb117 · 1 year

Text

LONDON ADVENTURE

Joseph Quinn & female y/n

Summary: You and Joseph meet Gaten at Broadway, when suddenly Joseph drops something you didn’t expect.

Content Warning: rpf, fluff, smut (18+), oral (f receiving), p in v

Part 11

You had to get ready for the musical evening in just 15 minutes. You picked a dress and some heels, Joe just changed his shirt into a plain white button up and threw on a leather jacket. Like always, the shirt wasn’t fully buttoned which made his two chains peak out.

Then you got on your way to the theatre. Like Joe had said, you were on the guest list, your seats were right in front of the stage. Joe held your hand all the time: The moment you left the hotel, in the taxi, on your way to the seats, till the show began. The musical had an interesting stage setting, the performers didn´t really dance, the singing was like opera: it was fantastic.

When the crew bowed in the ending, Gaten waved to Joe and shouted something to him, but you could not understand what he was saying because of all the clapping right behind you. The moment the show officially ended you wanted to stand up and get out of the theatre, but Joe took your hand and pulled you back into the seat. “Wait, love, we stay here, Gaten´s coming out in a few minutes.” The theatre got emptier and emptier, you were the only two left.

As soon as the last person left, Gaten came out of one of the two doors at the stage sides. Joe jumped up, they both ran up to each other and hugged. They both were making grunting noises mixed with laughing. “Aaaaah, mate.” Joe slapped his hand on Gatens shoulder. “How you doing?”, Gaten said with a wide smile on his face. “Oh, I´m doing great man.”, Joe looked over to you. “That’s y/n.”, he walked back up to you and placed his hand around your waist. “She´s my girlfriend.” Gaten grinned at you and shook your hand: “Nice to meet you, y/n.”

You were too stunned to speak, did Joe really say “girlfriend”? You were still trying to tame the butterflies freaking out in your stomach. You felt like throwing up but weirdly in a good way. Really trying to focus you said the same to Gaten. “I´m sorry, guys. I don´t have a lot of time. I´m pretty busy tomorrow. Maybe we can meet the next days for a diner or something?” “Yeah, I think we can do that, y/n?” Joe looked at you with an awaiting gaze. “Yeah, I really look forward to get to know you.”, you said to Gaten. He smiled and then Gaten left and you and Joe left as well. The theatre lobby was already completely empty, the sidewalk in front of the building too.

Joe ordered a taxi, the moment you arrived at the hotel room, you threw off your jacket and shoes and attacked Joe by smashing your lips on his. “So – I´m your - girlfriend?”, you said while ripping his shirt open and between kisses. “Yeah.”, Joe groaned into your neck, he began to undress you too. He roughly pushed down the sleeves of your dress, you wore nothing underneath. As soon as your tits sprung free, Joe gasped and captured them with his eyes, as if he was trying to keep this image in his mind forever. He hold onto your arms and bit his lower lips. Then he went in to kiss your nipples you melted into his touch. Your hands got lost in his curls while he assaulted your tits, he was gentle and wild, his mouth wandered from one to another.

You clenched your thighs together, it felt like your pussy was already dripping because of the whole arousal. Suddenly Joe pushed you on the bed, his hands desperately trying to get the dress off of your body to fuck you. Your legs were dangling down at the edge of the bed, Joe pinned them there with his, finally he managed to push the dress down your thighs, and threw it into a corner of the hotel room, including your underwear. Joe touched each of your inner knees with a hand and looked you in the eye. “Okay?”, he asked. You were just able to moan an almost silent “Please.”

Your hands tugged into the sheets underneath. What happened now was unexpected. You haven´t done anything further than fucking missionary till now, Joe was pleasuring you with his hands all the time, but he had never gone down on you. His head was between your legs, his tongue was twirling around your clit. The arching of your back seemed to push out several loud moans from you. His curls were between your fingers, you pushed his head more into your cunt, to feel him even more, deeper. You did not know exactly what he was doing with his tongue and mouth around your clit, but it worked – and it worked fast. You felt your orgasm building in your lower stomach. The wave of pleasure flood over your, you clenched your legs together, his head was stuck between them.

Joe didn’t stop, even when he realised that you slowly came down from the most intense orgasm, he had given you so far, he continued to assault your cunt. His tongue went down your slit, then again back to your clit. His hands had gripped onto your thighs, now they were going under them to hold onto your waist. Your legs rested on his shoulders. You became a moaning mess under his touch and licks and sucks. It felt amazing, you were slightly overwhelmed the moment you came for a second time.

As soon as you were able to take a breath, you moaned: “Now fuck me, Joe!” His head left your dripping cunt and he got out of his trousers and the boxers he was wearing. Now both of you were completely naked. Joe started to run his mouth up your inner thighs, they tightened again. His hands were running up your outer thighs in the meantime, till they propped up next to your upper body. He kissed you fiercely, his tongue slipping in between your lips. He tasted different. You realised that you were actually tasting yourself right now.

The tip of his length touched your clit, a shiver went down your spine. Joe groaned into your mouth while kissing your already swollen lips. You did not know what just went through your head, but you pushed Joe next to you onto the bed and sat right on top of him, your legs right on the outside of his body. He stared at you for a moment, with surprise but amazement in his eyes. His hands ran up your body, he gently touched your tits again. It was the first time you were on top, you could feel his hard dick on your ass.

You leaned forward to kiss him, your open hair surrounded your heads like a curtain. Joe cupped your cheeks and looked you deep in the eyes: “I never felt like this before, y/n.” “Me, too.”, you smiled at him. “I love you.” Did he really say that? It felt like cartwheels in your stomach, your chest felt like bursting, tears were building in your eyes. “I love you Joe” The following kiss was nothing like ever before. It was just a slow and soft kiss, but it was full of deep love. Your lips separated and you could not suppress a little giggle. “What is going on?”, Joe asked with a big smile. “I don´t know, I just can´t believe what´s happening. We met not even a week ago, and now I got my first I love you, while sitting on top of you with no clothes on.” Joe laughed: “Trust me, my love. It feels unreal to me as well.”

Joes hand went down to his length, he aligned it right you’re your entrance: “Can I?” “Yes, please.” He thrusted into you, immediately reaching the right spot. Joe found a rhythm, you kind of had to get along with in this new position first. He got really deep like that, hitting your g-spot over and over again. You threw your head back, screaming his name repeatedly. Joes hands rested on your waist, softly pushing you down on his dick in his steady pattern. The moaning got more and more, you rode out your high on top of Joe, while his thrusting became sloppy. Joe came inside of the condom, buried deep inside of you. The most intense orgasm has just washed over him. You decided to take care of alternative contraceptives as soon as you got home from your trip. You never had to worry about it before, but now was the time. Joe entwined your body, his hands placed on your back, and pulled you very close. You kissed again and again, until you both fell asleep.

To be continued…

Sorry, when I started writing and posting I didn’t know that the London adventure would turn into a trip to New York😂

Tag list: @eviethetheatrefreak

#joseph quinn #joseph quinn imagine #eddie munson #joe quinn #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x y/n #fluffy #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn rpf #joe quinn rpf #smut

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