Tumgik
#i forget how short fall is some times
b0tster · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
just a witched up cloth gown soaking in the vibes of her favorite season 🍂✨
1K notes · View notes
hauntingblue · 21 days
Text
*seeing 80 warships coming to destroy a whole nation*: you gotta be kidding me....
#the dialogue.....#he really is 13 but........#momo saved a child omg i forgor#i forget about him cause he just appears sometimes lmao you can't barely tell he travels with them... he just shows up whenever#I PAUSED AND HE IS CRUSHED BY A ROCK NO FUCKING WAY HE DIED oh nvm he is alive#zuko just appearing into the castle...... it needed more time to breathe that appearance#katara zuko battle inside 😞😞😞#they wont let him freeze outside????#they dont show a fish dying but then follow unnamed soldier number 8 as he runs from fire and falls to his death....#they didnt do a sokka yue and that guy triangle bc they knew the other guy fighting wouldnt be making sokka any favours#'the moon spirit is dead''there must be some way of bringing it back to life!''omg sokka thank you 😘' <- but forreals#the fish is already in rigor mortis#katara with the moon on her back and aang as the water spirit.... banger....#KATARA YOU NEED TO SCREAM!!! HE DOESNT HEAR YOU!!!#i gotta say the relationships dont really work for me here..... like they have talked alone max two times....#but like platonic relationships i mean like only iroh and zuko work bc they are continuously alone and there are multiple scenes about#their relationship and how it started#and then for aang katara and sokka you have?????? barely anything that cements their relationships#their most emotional scenes are flashbacks with other people but thats just for character not relationships#too much plot not enough connections i want to say.... and it IS because it's too short.... you can't even tell how katara learnt to bend#HAHN DIED?????? JESUS#iroh calming down zuko by telling him jee is alright ahdhskdj#i dunno.... 🥺 im tired 🥺#azula slay for the finale hell yeah lmao#final thots i think zukos story is more clear cut than aangs so it was easier to adapt..... steals the show a bit#and idk yeah relationships apart from zuko and iroh and maybe sokka and katara (we need the feminist ally arc for more depth lmao)#aang is just??? there alone. to me at least#was hard to ephatize with what katara was saying about being his family when we haven't seen any of that#talking tag#watching natla
1 note · View note
valeskafics · 2 months
Text
"Good Girls Are Bad Girls" - Fratboy!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media
a/n: thank you to @aemondsbabe for helping me with my questions on sorority and frat culture LMFAO 🩷
Summary: When Rafe meets one of Tri Delta's new sisters, he knows he's found the one.
Word Count: 5,000
Rating: 18+, MDNI
TW: afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, slight age gap (18 and 22), rafe creeping, corruption kink, innocence kink, some stalking, semi public fingering, oral f receiving, spit kink, degradation, praise kink, overstim, loss of virginity, p in v sex, unprotected sex, size kink, tummy bulge, creampie, pussy slapping, honestly i might've forgotten something this was a lot, mentions of alcohol consumption/frat culture
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Outer Banks characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷
Tumblr media
You want to curse your past self for forgetting to set an alarm this morning. You’re the type to sit at the back of the lecture hall, where no one pays attention to you. You like taking your notes, doing your work, and leaving without a fuss. That’s how you’ve managed to get through your first semester of college so far. But today? Today, everything’s changed.
Your usual seat - and in fact all the seats in the back row - are taken, leaving only one up front. You can feel your heartbeat pounding in your chest as you make your way down the stairs, taking the only empty seat that’s left. Luckily, you don’t have to climb over any of your classmates to get to it. That would’ve been even more humiliating. Instead, you just sit down, pull your notebook out of your backpack, and set up your things for the lecture.
For every action, there’s an equal and opposite reaction. So, while you might have been cursing yourself for this little mishap, someone else was counting their lucky stars that you couldn’t take your usual seat at the back of the room. That someone else being none other than Rafe Cameron. The president of the Beta Theta Pi fraternity. Unofficial king of the campus.
Rafe can hardly believe his luck when he glances back at the sound of the door opening and sees you. You look so skittish, almost like a spooked fawn, as you make your way toward the empty seat beside him. Rafe leans over to ask Topper if he knows who you are. Topper’s gaze falls on you and he gives you an appreciative once-over before informing Rafe that he does not in fact know you. Rafe can’t stop staring at you, his gaze hooded as he watches you ready yourself for class, angling his body toward you. 
He scoots in close, murmuring, “New transfer?”
You shake your head, your voice soft and sweet as you reply, “Oh, um, no. I’m a freshman actually. I just usually sit in the back.”
“Oh,” he chuckles, leaning in even closer, his arm resting on the back of your chair, thigh pressed against yours, “You’re fresh meat then.”
“I, um, I guess,” you reply, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you continue focusing on your notes, organizing them for class and avoiding eye contact with the boy beside you.
If Rafe notices this, he doesn’t care, instead whispering against your ear, “My name’s Rafe. And you are…?”
You tell him your name, barely audible, barely above a whisper, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to yourself. Rafe notices. He’s noticed every little thing about you in the short time you’ve been seated beside him. You don’t seem particularly comfortable around him. And a sick, twisted little part of him like that.
“What’s your major?”
“Dance,” you reply quietly, sliding down in your seat slightly in an effort to create some distance between the two of you.
“Oh, so you’re a dancer,” Rafe repeats, his voice laden with suggestive undertones as his eyes travel the expanse of your body. Though the professor enters the room and you do your best to ignore Rafe, he has no intention of paying attention to class. Only to you. His breath tickles your neck as he whispers, “What type of dance do you do?”
“Ballet,” you tell him, doing your best not to shiver at the way he’s pressed himself up against you.
“Ballet, huh? You know, you don’t look like a ballerina.”
Now he has your attention. He has you exactly where he wants you. Rafe inhales the scent of your body wash - vanilla and sugar, he thinks - as you look at him, brow furrowed in confusion.
“I don’t?”
“Your body,” he pauses, gaze lingering on your cleavage for a moment too long as he admires you, “It’s too… Soft.”
You look so adorably confused as you tilt your head and repeat, “Soft?”
“Mhm,” Rafe’s lips brush against the shell of your ear as he whispers, “Most ballerinas I’ve seen don’t have the softness you do. The curves.”
A wounded expression flashes across your face, “Are you making fun of me?”
He shakes his head, chuckling slightly, “No, sweetheart. I’m just saying I think your body is more suited for… Other things.”
Rafe decides to let you be for the rest of class, watching as your fingers dance across the page, holding your fuzzy pink pen. He watches as you tap it to your lips every so often when deep in thought, his breath growing more and more shallow with each passing moment. His thoughts are consumed entirely by you. Your delicate hands, those round tits, those doe eyes. He has to have you. It’s not a want at this point. It’s a need.
When class finally comes to an end, you seem eager to get away from him, shoving your things in your bag. He eyes your thighs, or what’s visible of them under the hem of the little plaid skirt you’re wearing, those knee socks squeezing your soft flesh. Rafe licks his lips, watching the way your pert little ass sways in the skirt, following after you as you leave the classroom. Before you can make it too far, he grabs you by the arm gently, a grin on his face.
“Where’re you going so fast?”
You startle at the sound of his voice, like a deer in headlights, “Oh, um, just to my next lecture.”
“You’re so quiet,” he teases, watching you fiddle with the straps of your backpack, twisting from side to side nervously, “The quiet ones are always secretly the craziest. Anyway, I’ll walk you.”
“Y-you don’t have to-”
“Oh, I insist,” Rafe falls into step beside you, getting a nice little glance down your v-neck sweater from his vantage point, the subtle bounce of your breasts making his cock go rock-hard in his jeans, “So, you must be pretty flexible, huh?”
“Oh, um, I guess so. For ballet, you kind of have to be.”
You’re so damn shy. He loves it. So fucking innocent. All he can think about is how he’s going to make you his, corrupt you entirely. Taint that sweet naivete of yours beyond all repair. It’s going to be so fucking delicious that it has his mouth watering at the thought alone.
“You’re in Beta, right?”
He’s surprised that you’ve managed to eke out a question, but grins and nods, giving you a little wink, “I am. I’m the president, as a matter of fact. How’d you know?”
“You know a few of my sisters,” you explain, “I’m in Tri Delta.”
Rafe’s brows nearly fly into his hairline at the revelation. A Tri Delta girl? How come he’s only just now meeting you? He thought he’d managed to fuck his way through that entire house, and yet here you are, looking up at him with those sweet innocent eyes, shying away the moment he so much as smiles at you.
“How come I’ve never seen you before today?”
“I don’t usually go to parties,” you explain, “I help set up and then hang out in my room.”
“That’s adorable,” Rafe coos almost mockingly, “A pretty little wallflower, huh? I bet you’re such a good girl. Straight A student, gets to class on time.”
“I,” you falter slightly, making his grin widen, “I do okay…”
You hug your textbook to your chest, the sight of which just confirms his suspicions as you shift your weight from foot to foot, “I bet you’re such a good girl too,” he murmurs, “Have you ever done anything naughty, Princess? I bet you haven’t.”
“Not really,” you admit, pausing in front of the lecture hall, “This is me. Thank you for walking me. It was nice meeting you.”
“You trying to get away from me?” Rafe teases, his blue eyes boring into you.
“No, I just have class…”
Rafe chuckles, nodding, “Yeah, I’m just kidding. See ya around, Princess.”
He watches you, the graceful sway of your hips, those legs, that ass of yours. He’s fucking hooked. He needs to know more about you.
Rafe needs to know everything about you.
Tumblr media
He learns that you’re a legacy, your mom having been a Tri Delta sister. You come from old money, your family living back in California. You seem to have come out to the east coast to break away from the sheltered life you’ve led. Attended an all girls school - no wonder you’re so jumpy around him. It’s so fucking cute. Your mother is a doctor, he learns, and your father is a hotelier, owning one of the most famous, luxurious hotel chains in the world. You’re a Kook if he’s ever seen one. A perfect match for him.
Topper finds out that you practice from six to eight in the dance studio on campus every day, information he relays to Rafe without delay. And so tonight? Rafe watches as you enter the studio, removing your jacket and warm up pants, revealing the pale pink leotard and tights you have on underneath. The way the fabric clings to you - to every curve, every soft bit of flesh - it’s almost impossible for him to stand there and do nothing. You don’t notice him at first, continuing in your stretching at the barre. The way you move is so effortlessly graceful and so sensuous at the same time. Watching you twist your body into all these positions, the sight of your leotard squeezing and digging in all the right places. God, he doesn’t think he’s ever been this hard in his life.
Rafe’s throat goes dry as he watches you, the song you’re dancing to being vaguely familiar to him. He thinks it might be from the Nutcracker. All he can think of as you dance around the room, your hair tumbling free from the bun you’d tied it in, is that you’re perfect. Everything he’s ever wanted. His first impression was right. You’re so soft, so pliant. He eyes each of your supple curves with ravenous desire, barely resisting the urge to barge into the studio and fuck you up against the wall.
He stays there, silently watching you practice, sweat dripping down your face as you work yourself to the point of exhaustion. You’re stumbling now, making a few mistakes, but all that does is endear you to him even more. The little pout on your face as you keep trying to get your fouette perfect. It’s so goddamn enticing.
Rafe claps when you’re finished, startling you slightly. You give him a shy wave as you undo your pointe shoes and pull on your warm ups over your clothes, feeling a bit self conscious around him. He notices your sudden shyness and takes advantage of it, walking inside and leaning on the barre beside you.
“Was just passing through the building and saw you,” he lies, “I could watch you dance all night long. How long you been doing it for?”
“Since I was a kid,” your voice is so meek and timid, it has him wanting to see what other little noises he can pull from those soft lips.
“Any chance I can see you perform?”
“If you want,” you pause, “I’m in the Nutcracker. As one of the snow fairies. Freshmen usually don’t get lead roles, just ensemble, but I’m in it a bit.”
“I’m sold,” Rafe grins, a hand resting on your lower back as the two of you leave the studio, “When is it?”
“The Friday before winter break.”
Two weeks from now. Rafe grins, excitement in his voice, something that has you biting back a smile. He can see how happy you are that someone wants to come specifically for you. And so, he gives your waist a little squeeze, making you gasp softly.
“I’ll be there. But the real question is,” he stops in his tracks, leading you to stop as well, “Can I see you before then? Or are you gonna make me wait two weeks?”
“I… But you’re a senior,” your voice is so uncertain it nearly tugs at his heartstrings, “And I’m just a freshman…”
Rafe smirks at you, “And that matters why? All I need to know is if I can see you before you perform, cuz,” he runs his thumb softly along your jawline, enjoying the way you fluster at his touch, “I can’t wait that long.”
You blink owlishly, surprised at this, but not at all unhappy, “You can… If you want.”
“I’m gonna hold you to that.” The two of you arrive at the Tri Delta house, and Rafe leans in close. You gaze up at him with those innocent eyes of yours, his heart nearly melting at the adorable sight, “Tomorrow night. Six PM. I’ll pick you up from here. How’s that sound, princess?” When you nod in agreement, Rafe all but purrs, “Good girl.”
He sees the way your breath catches in your throat. You like to be praised. You want to be his good girl. Rafe’s going to remember that.You shift your weight from foot to foot, thanking him for walking you. Rafe decides to get a little bolder and leans in.
“How about a kiss as a thank you?”
Rafe wants you flustered. He wants that look on your face you have right now, lips parted as you try to figure out whether or not he’s serious. He just stands there, waiting expectantly, and you realize he most certainly was. You’ve never done anything like this before, so you hesitate for a long moment before leaning forward and brushing your lips against his cheek before dashing off into the safety of the house, away from him, blurting out a quick “goodnight” as you go.
He stands there, pressing his hand to his cheek.
You little fucking tease.
He’s going to get so much more than a kiss on the cheek from you tomorrow. He’s going to have his lips on yours. And then? On so many other places.
Tumblr media
Rafe decides to sit with you in the back row today. You’re surprised to see a backpack resting on your usual chair, Rafe in the one beside it. He gives you a lazy smile, one that has your stomach filling with butterflies, and moves his backpack, patting the seat beside him. You make your way on shaky legs, setting your things down and preparing for class. He looks good. You can’t deny it, even with that ridiculous snapback, sitting backwards on his head. Somehow, he makes it look attractive.
He likes what he sees as he takes in your outfit as well. That plaid skirt that sits snug around your hips, hitting your mid-thigh, the innocence of your lacy socks paired with Mary Jane shoes, and the sweater you’ve matched it all with. The perfect innocent school girl, ripe for the taking. It’s like every sordid little fantasy he had as a teenager has come true, and you’re at the center of all of them.
“What’s up cutie?” Rafe asks, his thigh pressed up against yours, “You sleep good?”
“Mhm,” you say quietly, giving him a small smile.
“That skirt looks really good on you.”
His gaze is hungry as he takes in the exposed flesh of your thighs, biting back a laugh as you stutter out, “Thank you. Y-you look nice too.”
“Aw, thanks, Princess. Are you excited for our date?” He continues talking, “I’m taking you to this great steak place. You’re gonna love it.”
“Sounds good.”
You try to pay attention to the lecture. You really do. You’ve always been a straight A student and intend on remaining one, especially with finals only two weeks away. But when Rafe rests his hand on your thigh, just where your skirt ends and squeezes your soft flesh, his large, calloused palm caressing your skin? You don’t really care about whatever the professor is rattling on about. This is far more interesting.
Rafe loves how soft you are to the touch, your smooth, warm skin. His cock strains against his pants as he moves his hand higher and higher, reveling in the breathy gasp you let out when his fingers skim over the fabric of your underwear. 
You cover your mouth, teeth sinking into your lower lip, “R-Rafe, we’re in class…”
It’s such an adorable fucking reaction. Watching Little Miss Innocent lose her composure, the way you seem to be against this and yet, you make no move to get away. He caresses your mound over the fabric of your panties, leaning in and whispering in your ear.
“We’re in the back row, baby. Just relax. Daddy’s got you.”
You cover your mouth as he presses his fingers against you, a grin spreading across his face at the fact that he’s already got you dripping for him. He moves your panties aside, pushing two fingers inside your wet cunt. You’ve never really felt the urge to touch yourself before, but now, with him fucking you with his fingers? You wonder if you’re ever going to be able to last a day without doing so. He pumps his fingers faster and faster, burying them knuckle deep inside you, turning your face so that you keep those big doe eyes on him. He watches the way your lashes flutter, your breath quickens, knowing you’re almost there. Virgins like you get wet so fucking easily, but there’s something even more enticing about you than any before.
“Good girl,” he whispers, “You’re being such a good girl for me.”
Your eyes close, white hot pleasure ripping through your body, and you disguise the moan you let out as a cough, something that has Rafe snickering to himself. He brings his fingers to his lips, licking them clean. And you just watch, lips parted, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. After the class empties out, he brings his fingers to your lips next, pushing them inside your mouth. Realizing what he wants, you close your lips around them, suckling slightly.
“That’s it, baby. hope you’re ready for tonight. Because this is just the beginning of what I have in store for you.”
Tumblr media
Rafe waits for you outside Tri Delta at six, drumming his fingers against his steering wheel. He gets out and begins to walk to the door, ready to knock and deal with whichever sorority sister answers, but before his knuckles can wrap on the wood, the door opens to reveal you. Standing there with your hair down, wearing a little pink dress and white kitten heels, a white purse in your hands that looks too tiny to carry anything. Your lips are coated in a pretty pink lip gloss that he can’t wait to taste.
“Hi,” you say, smiling up at him in that adorably shy way you do, “I hope you weren’t waiting too long.”
“No, baby,” he chuckles, moving to rest a hand on your hip, squeezing, “You’re right on time. And looking fucking incredible.”
He takes your hand, so soft and small and warm in his, leading you to his car. He can tell you’re a Kook from the way you don’t balk at the fact he’s driving a Porsche. You just let him open the door and help you in, thanking him. Rafe’s hand rests on your thigh once again as the two of you drive to the restaurant, the sight of which reminds you of what happened earlier in class. You press your thighs together, the low vibration of the car driving along the road making your stomach turn in a way that isn’t entirely unpleasant as you squirm in your seat.
“You look beautiful,” Rafe murmurs, moving his hand to brush the back of it along your cheek, his touch sending a jolt through you, “My good little girl. I almost don’t wanna ruin that pretty dress you’re wearing.”
“Ruin…?”
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, baby.”
Rafe is pleased at how well you fit in at the fancy steakhouse he takes you to. Topper was right. You do come from old money. He watches as you eat, as you talk to him, so very gracefully. Everything you do, every little thing, makes him want you more. He sits with his chin resting on his hand, gazing at you intently as you tell him about your family, your time at your all girls’ school. And for the first time, Rafe realizes that it’s nice to actually talk to the girl he’s into. To connect with her. He doesn’t talk about himself much that night, wanting to make you feel comfortable so that you’ll let him walk you back up to your room after dinner.
Because tonight, he’s going to make you his.
Tumblr media
You do indeed let Rafe walk you to your room when he asks. You ignore the jealous looks some of the girls give you and the knowing looks from the others. Rafe knows what they’re thinking. That you’re just another in his long line of conquests. They don’t know that you’re so much more to him than that.
He closes the door behind the two of you when you enter your room, glancing around, smiling to himself at how it’s so very you, from the pink fuzzy blanket to the little unicorn plushie sitting in the center of your bed.
Rafe moves to sit on your bed, pulling you into his lap. You stumble forward, your hands resting against his chest to steady yourself. You look at him, so hesitant, so uncertain, and Rafe knows that you want him to kiss you, but you don’t quite know how to ask. So, he leans in slowly and presses a kiss to your lips, making you gasp, allowing him to explore your mouth with his tongue, letting it move against yours, slow and yet so very heated. He pulls you closer to him by the waist, running a hand up under the back of your dress, moving his hand upward to squeeze the soft flesh of your ass slightly, making you let out a quiet whimper.
“You make such cute little noises. Wanna hear some more. And you taste so sweet,” he mumbles between kisses, “Fuck, baby, you’re adorable.”
Your breath catches in your throat as you look up at him through your eyelashes, “You mean you like me? Like you like me like me?”
“Baby, of course I like you, how could I not?” Rafe coos, peppering kisses along your jaw and down your neck, “Thought I made it obvious. I want you. No one else in the entire fuckin’ world would do, baby. Only you. Want you so fuckin’ bad it hurts.”
You mewl with pleasure as he bites down on the junction between your neck and shoulders, “Oh my God, Rafe, please-“
“Please what?” He smirks, moving his hand to stroke you over your panties, “Huh?”
As Rafe slides his hand under the hem of your dress, caressing you over your panties, you can’t help but whine his name again. The sound is so sweet, so intoxicating, that it has him moaning and pulling you back into another sloppy, wet, heated kiss, his mouth devouring your own. His other hand twists in your hair, making you moan at the slight pain, but also? From how fucking good it feels.
“God, baby, I think I’m just gonna have to keep you forever. You good with that? Huh, baby?”
All you can do is nod dumbly as he continues kissing up the side of your neck, “Something wrong, baby?”
“N-no,” you stutter as he moves to flip you over so you’re beneath him on the bed.
He tugs at your dress, pulling it over your head, his mouth going dry at the sight of your tits straining against your pink lacy bra and panties. He kisses the soft skin above the fabric of your bra, his mouth hot against you, moving down further and further until he reaches the apex between your thighs.
“Rafe? What’re you doing?”
“I just want to make you feel good,” Rafe promises, mouthing at you over your panties, loving the way you shiver at his touch, “Yeah, baby.”
You nod timidly, “O-okay. I trust you, Rafe.”
“Lay back, sweetheart,” he mumbles, stroking you over your panties and pressing down a bit harder against your clit, grinning at the way you moan, “Daddy’s gonna take good care of his baby girl.”
“One of the girls could hear us-“
“So?” he questions, sliding your panties down your legs and stuffing them into his back pocket, “Let them, Let them hear you scream my name while I eat your sweet little pussy for hours.”
“Rafe,” you whimper as he gave a quick lick against your wet cunt, “Oh my God, it feels so weird-“
“Good weird?” he questions, running a finger over you.
“Yes, oh my God, it’s, like, I… Please do something!”
“Use your words, baby girl,” he teases, lining his face up with your core, “Say ‘please eat my wet little virgin pussy, Daddy’.” You let out a cry as he nips at your thigh, “Sometime today, baby.”
“Please eat my wet little virgin pussy, Daddy,” you all but scream, “Please, please, please!”
Rafe looks up at you with a grin to rival the devil himself, “Since you asked so nicely.”
He spits on you, the cool feeling of his saliva hitting your core making you shiver, before diving in wholeheartedly with his tongue. He laps at your slick folds eagerly, like he’s a starving man and you’re a drop of water in the desert. You thrash against the bed, mumbling incoherently. The only words he can make out are “good”, “Rafe”, and “Daddy”. He grazes his teeth against your swollen pearl, making your entire body seize as you cry out.
“Oh my God, Rafe, yes! Oh God, you feel so good, oh my God!”
Rafe continues lapping at you, his tongue moving at a relentless pace, making you squeal as he nuzzles his nose against your clit.
He pulls back for a moment, “You’re so cute like this. So small and helpless. You’re gonna be a perfect little slut just for me, aren’t you, princess?” Rafe slaps your pussy when you don’t respond, making you jolt with surprise at how fucking good it feels, his palm hitting your clit, “Come on, my pretty little slut, answer when your daddy asks a question.”
“Yes, Daddy, I’m your slut,” you whine, arching your back, “Oh my God, faster please!”
“Anything for my baby girl.”
He rubs you faster and faster while lapping at your pussy, leaving a sloppy open-mouthed kiss against it, the slurping noises he makes, the moans he lets out sounding so obscene. But you just lay there, staring at him, eyes locked on his as you come with a scream of his name. But he’s not even close to done. He continues mouthing at your folds sloppily, greedily, tongue fucking you like his life depends on it. Your entire body quivers at the feeling, twitching as you grasp at the sheets, desperate for purchase as he rips another climax from your body, then a third.
Your arousal glistens against Rafe’s chin and he moves up your body to kiss you, making you taste yourself on his tongue.
“You taste so fuckin’ good, baby,” he murmurs, biting your lower lip, “Gonna have you for dessert everyday. You liked that, didn’t you? Me treating you like my own personal whore?”
You whimper as he squeezes your ass with one hand, moving the other up to your mouth to force it open, “Rafe?”
“Keep that mouth open, baby,” he mumbles, spitting onto your tongue, “Swallow that for me.” You quickly follow his instructions, earning a pleased smile from him. “Show me your tongue. Wanna see that you swallowed,” he orders, to which you oblige without hesitation, showing him your tongue, “Fuck, baby, you’re such a good girl.”
Rafe unbuttons the dress shirt he wore to dinner, revealing his toned chest, his abs, tossing it aside, moving to his pants next, making quick work of them and his boxers, his cock rock hard, swaying slightly, pre cum dripping from the tip. He gives himself a few quick tugs before slapping the head of his cock against your clit, loving the way your entire body twitches. He pushes inside you, just the tip at first, slowly, inch by inch, until he bottoms out inside of you.
You always thought your first time would hurt, but with how wet Rafe made you after eating you out for so long, it’s just a slight sting and then, it’s gone, giving way to the strangest, most pleasurable sensation you’ve ever known. He fills you up with every thrust of his hips, lifting your legs to hike them around his waist, allowing him to fuck you harder, deeper. You can feel every bit of him as he ruts into you, slow at first, but then faster and faster. Rafe is mesmerized by the sight of your face, your tits bouncing as he moves to take one of your nipples into his mouth. He grabs your hips, pounding into you over and over and over again, hitting that rough patch deep inside you, loving the mewl of his name you let out as you soak his cock.
But he’s not done with you. He continues fucking you, even as your pussy grips him so hard that he can hardly move, even as you squirm against him, your overstimulated body barely able to handle what he’s giving you.
When he finally spills himself deep inside of your pussy, he collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms, his lips pressing against your neck. You cuddle up against him, falling asleep almost immediately.
And it’s while you’re snoring softly that he remembers something Topper said a few weeks back.
Something that he now knows to be very true.
“Good girls are bad girls who haven’t been caught.”
Tumblr media
5K notes · View notes
promtease · 1 month
Text
More creepy and unsettling, creature Astarion please.
I beg of thee. Vampires are meant to be an uncanny valley type of thing. An undead creature of the night that passes itself as just the right amount of living and mortal for you to let your guard down. I need more examples of his vampiric nature showing once he's grown comfortable enough, and I need it now.
~
An Astarion who is so silent in his movements that you often got jump scared by it in the earlier stages of your relationship.
You'd be lounging around on the sofa. Reading a book, lost in thought, all serene and cozy beneath a nice knitted blanket-- just having an all around nice, relaxing time when you see movement out of the corner of your eye. You glance up for just a moment, to the space before you that was previously unoccupied, and his entire face is suddenly hovering right in front of you.
Just waiting. Not moving. Pupils blown so huge that there's barely any color left to his eyes. Fangs are peeking out over the bruise-purple skin of his bottom lip. He's pallid. White as a corpse. Definitely in need of a good feeding.
His intentions were entirely innocent. He really only meant to ask you a question, and here you are being all dramatic and jumping several feet into the air and throwing your book off to the side in a panic. Thankfully, you're able to catch yourself before you full on shriek in his face.
(You love him and his ghoulishly handsome face, you really and truly do, but you sincerely thought for a moment that he was a spectre come to take you to the afterlife.)
~
Astarion, who routinely forgets to breathe. Yanno, like it's nothing.
You're well aware of the fact that vampires don't need to breathe. It's more of a force of habit than anything else, really-- something left over from when he was still mortal, he says.
Although, during bouts of intense emotion, or some sort of uh, stimulation, the focus on something so trivial gets put on the backburner for a bit.
The two of you will be sharing a particularly passionate kiss (or worse) when you feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest stop short. It's like all of the air has gotten caught in his lungs, and he ends up making these creaky grudge-like sounds in place of his usual low moaning. A clicking in the back of his throat in place of a sigh. If you play your cards just right, there might even be a rattling from deep within his chest that almost sounds like a purr.
When he finally does breathe, usually due to a well executed nip to his bottom lip, or the gentle brush of your fingers against one of his ears as you play with his hair, it comes out as an animalistic hiss. A sharp, choking gasp that sends goosebumps down the length of your arms.
~
How you catch him watching you sleep.
How you'll wake up in the pitch black of your bedroom in a cold sweat. Your hair is stood on end, a fearful shudder threatening to rattle your frame. A spike in your pulse that has your sleep addled brain doing somersaults in your skull. All of your instinctual alarm bells go off at once, telling you that something must be terribly wrong. Something must be watching you.
You try to blink away the bleariness-- try to shake off the fog of sleep for long enough to get your bearings, and catch a glint in the dark so ominous that for a moment you're scared stock still.
Something is watching you. Someone, rather.
Astarion's eyes gleam back at you in the dark like a wild animal's might. A bobcat, maybe, like the ones you'd often find stalking pray outside the tree line of camp all those nights ago. Pupils that glow a filmy, holographic orange despite there being no light to reflect off of them.
You don't notice until after you've taken a second to calm yourself that he's hovering over you. The bed just barely dips from his weight as he supports himself, and you'd be baffled by it all if you had any braincells left.
"Go back to sleep, darling." His voice is so soft, even over the pounding against your eardrums. Soothing. Tranquilizing. And though your eyes do begin to feel heavy, you're not exactly in the mood for rest anymore.
Especially not when he's pressing cold, feather-light kisses down the length of your throat not a moment later.
~
Please, I beg. Give me more.
3K notes · View notes
riaki · 4 months
Note
ur highschool bully gojo was chefs kiss 💋 what do u think about them going to the same college and taking the same classes?? and the reader sitting next/talking to some other guy and satoru gets jealous?? arwahhhshdhshshs so many possibilities, i hope u continue writing it!!
hi nonnie !! thank you so much :) this is ur official part 2 ! i was struggling to think up some possibilities but this helped a lot :oo | read part 1 here ! -> cw: swearing, jealousy, i let it get fic length oops
(former) highschoolbully!gojo on the brain again… like. when you end up seeing him again however many months later, and you can tell that he’s changed. it’s not like its immediately obvious to anyone who doesn’t really know him like you (used to); but he’s a little softer-spoken and his smiles seem nine times more genuine. it’s not a hundred percent; the kind that really lights up his face instead of just barely falling short of his stark blue eyes, but it's something.
of course, you have nothing to base it off of, because when you do inevitably see him again it's the very definition of meet ugly.
college is a new frontier, but its also a clean slate. its your first time going into something so new without your old bestfriend at your side, but some faint flickering thought reminds you that it might be better that way. but the universe is against you from the very first day, when youre gettin yourself some coffee from the same chain you did the morning of that fateful presentation so many moons ago. you're too busy thinking to yourself what kind of strange parting ritual it is to relive your trauma to notice the lanky, white-haired boy who hits his head on the chiming bell over the doorway. people are giggling around you n sighing dreamily but youre too deep in the music pumping through your headphones to notice and your eyes are glued to the class schedule on your phone, trying to ensure you dont get lost on the first day when—
you blink and your ass is flat on the dirty floor of the coffee shop, and the first thing you register is that your stomach is soaked and burning. you'd spilled your coffee. it takes you a moment to realize, but when you do you're pissed. so you quickly get to your feet, trying to reign in what little of your ego you have left to give the offender who bumped into you a piece of your mind as you look up, then..
how unlucky do you have to be?
just like that, satoru's slid himself back into your life, after ramming through its locked gates. you forget that he always forgets the point of keys, both when it comes to his apartment (which you still have the spare key of in case of emergencies), and the door to your heart. to rub salt in the wound, the only thing that's stained with your coffee order are his shoes, which look like they cost three weeks of your old job salary, but it's all over your shirt. of course it is. because why not? make it look like you tripped and fell into a patch of mud on your way to the lecture hall and tack on an unwelcome reunion with your ex-bestfriend.
to you, it's like the cloud of gloom from your highschool youth has resettled over your head like a swarm of gnats on a dreary, hot summer day. the stars always seem to skew and misalign themselves for you. but for satoru, the stars have handed him one of those huge swirly lollipops that you only ever see being paraded about by toddlers. he recovers almost instantly, trading the burn on his feet and the way it sours your expression like he's just squirted pure citric acid into your throat for a pleasant burn of his own on his cheeks. but it's whatever. girls seem to like it when he blushes, for some reason. he won't question it, if it works on the only one he cares about.
he holds his hand out, ready to help you out like the good samaritan he's become— and it's like a real burn to his heart this time when you ignore it and stand up on your own, refusing to look up and meet his pleading gaze. might as well have taken an iron stoker right out of the fire and jabbed him with it. but he's gojo satoru! he won't be defeated by this one mere, maybe very significant reunion. he's got stamina.
so he offers to buy you a new drink, feels his heart sink when you shake your head (can't even spare a little 'no' in his direction), and talks enough for the both of you when you leave the dingy little store make your way down to campus and the lecture building. you clearly don't want to see him, but he ignores that in exchange to notice the way you shiver every so often. the previously searing-hot coffee that stains your shirt turns cold fast, and moisture n wind don't mix well. he wishes he could offer you some of his own warm coffee, no doubt sickeningly sweet, but he has some sensitivity now, apparently. so, in a brash moment, he decides to take his blazer off and drape it over your shoulders instead.
when you cross the threshold between city and campus, you expect him to yank it off your back and be on his merry way. but he keeps walking next to you, so you walk a little faster, and you absolutely loathe the cheeky little grin that curves the corners of his lips up to show a glint of teeth when he effortlessly keeps up. you curse his long legs when you find yourself winded, but at least you can lose him when you get there.
or, that's what you think. once again, your constellations break themselves to rebuild anew for satoru. you're about to call him a stalker when he follows you all the way to your classroom with that smirk that's growing exponentially until— oh, no.
your phone that's been on the schedule up until now desperately scrolls to the roster— and there it is. he's in your class. needless to say, not another word goes between you as you stomp in and take a seat. luckily for you, you've already corresponded with your roommate's brother (who's annoyingly cute, satoru notices) and agreed to sit next to each other. satoru takes the seat right above you and never stops kicking his freakishly long legs against the wood the entire time.
so yeah, it's obvious he's not a saint; he still has that undoable ego and he's cocky as fuck (as you have the misfortune of finding out when he quickly bullies your professor), but there's a certain familiarity in that no matter how ugly it might appear to others. and if you asked (which he really, really hopes you will someday), he doesn't hang around douchebags who use kids' foreheads for ashtrays and treat girls like they're candy from a glittery pez dispenser. and at least he's switched harassment targets. even though he has an overwhelming sense of superiority over others and never has his lips together for more than five seconds, and even though he has this hellish habit of clicking his pen whenever he's not talking (or when someone else is), it seems like he's changed.
and over time, you gradually find yourself warming up to him. the spunkiness that used to get on your nerves ceaselessly becomes an object of endearment, and you don't really mind the way he never seems to stop moving anymore. it's a nice sort of distraction in the lifeless still of the lecture hall, albeit the pen clicking still drives you near insanity. you notice he always does it obnoxiously and quickly when you're talking to your roommate's brother, but you ignore it.
and for satoru? he hates that he can kinda sorta really tell that you're the only one who can read him like he's a damn book, cus you slowly start to soften up in the nostalgia of his presence like cold playdough between warm fingers that tell you he may have finally caught you again after letting you slip the first time. and he notices it. this time, he's determined not to let you be the one that got away again. but youre really giving him a shit time outta it with the way you constantly entertain the guy who always has his breath in your face.
yeah, he's got a cute face that's sunkissed by freckles. yeah, his hair looks like he models for shampoo companies. and fuck, he has a nice voice. but what of it? satoru's the one with the mesmerizing blue irises and the cloudy white hair your professor wishes he had instead of sad little wisps of old age. still, as chilly days turn into frigid weeks, he gets the perfect backseat angle of the growing relationship between the two of you. the boy's kinda dumb so you copy off of satoru’s work when you need to (he has to hide the 1-0 scoreboard between him and the guy on a sticky note from you when you take his notes), but said guy’s always buying you stuff and lending you erasers and laughing when you flick the shavings at the annoying girl who never stops whispering in the front of the room.
satoru tries to act unbothered, and he almost convinces everyone. including himself. but the angry, burning knot in his chest that's entirely different from coffee stains suggests something more. that should be him at your side. him, making balls of paper with rude scribbles and silly doodles to throw at the people he knows you don't like. him, surprising you with little gifts and the cheap trinkets he knows you adore so much instead of all the luxury things he could afford. there's no way this punk could possibly measure up to him, right? but at least you and satoru are well on your way to becoming friends again. not as close as you used to be, but it's something. substantial. and he's learned to be patient in the time you've been gone.
but he'd be lying through his teeth if he said he wasn't tired of it. he’s endlessly plagued with thoughts of increasing intensity— first, it starts out with just you. only you. the way he likes it. the way he likes your face, and your pretty eyes and your gorgeous lips and your soft hair and your figure and the complimenting clothes you wear. but it takes a turn; thoughts turn into dreams that turn into fantasies and he's lying when he says he doesn't enjoy them when he accidentally lets it slip during a group study session— and it’s all fine— but then, that guy appears. the brat who seems to sit a centimeter closer to you with each coming day. not only does he haunt satoru in real life, he’s tormenting his dreams, too. tainting the image of beautiful you.
needless to say, satoru starts to wake up with his hands gripping his damp pillow like he's choking it, acutely aware of the sweat sliding down his neck and over his chest as he stares up at the ceiling, listening to the dorm's air conditioner run and thinking of what it'd be like for dreams (the ones where he replaces the boy) to become reality.
it's a buildup. and soon, he reaches the apex; it's like a rollercoaster, that stomach-twisting moment when you reach the top of the rail that points to the steep descent downward. but this time, he hopes it's a thrill he gets instead of the usual falling fright; the one he got when he realized he’d slipped between your fingers in highschool.
and satoru finally comes to a grinding halt at the top of the ride one breezy fall day when he decides he wants you back in his life after you smile brightly at him and wave goodbye for the day. he’s tired of you having one foot in and one foot out of his heart; he wants, needs more. he always has, he realizes.
so he’s thinking about you and how to approach the feelings he’s realized during those long lectures, and one morning he comes up with some semblance of a plan when he’s high on the sugar from the fruit tea you bought him that morning. and he hopes that, by the end of it, he'll leave your apartment with your hand in his currently empty one, chilled with the remnants of cold condensation from the bottle.
soon enough, satoru finds himself extinguishing his nerves and raising a tense fist to knock on the door with nothing but the clothes on his back and a flimsy plan to ask you out on a midterm study sesh and maybe even a date, but he stops when he realizes it’s slightly ajar. a brief thought of what look might be on your face when he surprises you crosses his mind, so he lets himself in quietly, because he knows every single floorboard that creaks like the back of his palm from his childhood. he’s hit with a wave of warmth and an achingly familiar scent that twists at his heart, and your apartment is cozy and safe and it screams you and he thinks he catches sight of his jacket slung across the back of the couch in your living room, but he’s not sure so he takes a step forward and—
he’s greeted with the sight of that stupid guy with the nice hair and the freckles, and it makes his heart drop. but even worse, he’s kissing you and his arms are winding around your waist but you’re kissing him back with a slight hesitation that’s blinded to satoru by his shock and the fingers he thought would end up in his own tonight card through the boy’s hair and your lips glisten with the strawberry-kiwi flavored gloss he watched the boy give you a few days back and his world is turning red and he feels like his throat is constricting and he can’t breathe—
and he doesn’t even realize you’ve parted lips and you’re calling his name through the newfound tightness of his chest and the painful ringing in his ears thats even louder than any silence of a lecture hall, or the void that should’ve been filled with your voice during the time you were apart. but now satoru realizes he’d take that any fucking chance to have that again because it’s so much better than what he’s stuck with now. having you, but not really having you, because you’re there but you’re someone else’s and you’re not his and he isn’t yours. the best thing he could ever hope for was for you to own an article of his clothing and a piece of his shattered heart, broken into a million fragments. some cruel voice in his buzzing head reminds him to change the scoreboard to 0-100.
and he could buy you cheap hot coffee or earn your smiles from scrunched up paper balls or even hear your laugh with crude jokes, but there’s no point when he realizes he can’t buy you with caffeine or earn you with hitting the back of people’s heads with his bio notes or have you and your laugh all to himself anymore.
it’s almost pathetic, the way satoru’s voice cracks and changes. the look of unadulterated concern on the face of the boy who stole your lips just adds fuel to the fire.
“gojo? what are you doing here— hey, are you okay? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
he noticed you’d stopped calling him satoru a few weeks back. he should’ve seen it coming.
“huh? oh, yeah. i’m good. i think you’re the one hallucinating.”
he’d never told a bigger lie in his life.
satoru had left after excusing himself for intruding. how very unlike him to be so polite, you think.
so in the end, he leaves your apartment with something in his hand, after all. but it's not your own— just his blazer that you’d given back to him before he stepped out the door, taunting him with the faint scent of coffee and lingering perfume. his hope was foolish, so it seems. it’s too bad, he thinks. if it were him, he would’ve sandwiched you against your counter while he kissed. but it wasn’t. apparently, it was your turn for your stars to align at the price of his.
and so, gojo satoru, the boy force-turned man with a chipped ego and a completely broken heart, loses you again.
bonus bonus.. part 2….
5K notes · View notes
shotmrmiller · 4 months
Text
I'm your only situationship.
Tumblr media
A/N : yall i stayed up til 324 am writing this. I felt like if i went to bed still only having it as a thought and not on 'paper' thats unacceptable. If i gotta think about this then so do yall! it was also supposed to be a small one shot but it got wildly out of hand im not sorry.
18+ MDNI
TW: typical smut, EXPLICIT mmkay im talkin clutch ur pearls explicit.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Simon had finally come home from a grueling 6-month mission. All he wanted was some Kentucky bourbon with you at your favorite seedy bar. 
Once he was home, Simon cleaned up, put on a black clinical mask, and sent a text to you to meet him there. As he finished his first glass of the night, a rather attractive young woman approached him, asking if she could buy him a drink. 
“Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around, lovie?”
“Not at all. This is after all the 21st century. I’m simply asking— wouldn’t want any missus at home getting upset.”
“There’s no one at home for me, lass.”
“Well then, how about you get yourself another glass, my treat, and we’ll see where this night takes us?” 
He slightly nodded —he’d never say no to a free drink— and as she left to order a drink, he took his phone out to text you again.
“C’mon, pet. I’ll cover the tab. Too good f’me, now?”
His phone vibrated a minute later.
“I can’t today, Si.”
“Why not? I know you don’t go out on Sundays.”
As the young woman came back, drinks in hand, he lifted the screen to read your response.
“I’ve got a dick appointment~ It’s been a year and then some and I’m gonna claw at my walls if I don’t get a fix ASAP.”
Simon goes tense— soft blues hardening to a silver and he’s gripping his phone so hard it might crack. He pulls up your contact and calls you within seconds.
“Hiya, Si!” 
“What the fuck is a dick appointment?”
“Oh,” you giggle. “I forget you older folk don’t know ‘bout that. It’s just a one-night fling. No commitments or nothin'.’ Exactly what I need right now.” You don’t tell him that the reason you’ve practically regrown your hymen is that when you’re best friends with Simon, every other male in existence pales in comparison. 
“Anyway Si-, he’s getting here in like an hour-”
“No.” And hangs up. 
The young woman who’s casually rubbing his bicep and shoulder gets practically flung off of him, as he gets up off the bar stool so fast it’s falling back with a loud clang, and he’s yanking his leather jacket on and pulling on his leather gloves so hard they’re about to become fingerless—
“Hey! I thought you didn’t have a girlfriend?!”
One gloved hand gripping the front door, he turns his head slightly to her and says, “Pet, with how good I’m gonna fuck her, she won’t even have to ask to know she’s mine.”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
You’re standing in the bathroom with your liquid eyeliner in one hand and phone in the other, staring at the ended call screen. ‘Weird,’ you think, then shrug and put the phone down. ‘Maybe the call got dropped.’
You finally complete the look with your false lashes when there’s a very hard knock on your door. You frown as you look at your phone screen. ‘7:14 pm’. You know the guy said at 8 and you’re in one of Simon’s big shirts he always forgets and your hair is still tied up in an oversized pink and white polka dot scrunchie— The pink leopard print booty shorts you’ve got on will suffice. 
The second time there’s a knock it’s even louder. 
“Jesus Christ, I’m coming!” 
You open the door and say, “I’m sorry I took so long, I—”
Simon flies past you, with a rough shoulder bump and you turn to look at him and he’s almost sprinting to the bedroom, slamming the door open—
“Simon, what the fuck? What’re you doin—”
“Where is he?”, he snarls.
“Who?! Are you talking about my date? He’s not getting here til 8! And why’re you slamming doors in my apartment like you pay my rent?!”
You see Simon deflate immediately at the important part of your answer and chooses to ignore the rest as he takes off his jacket and walks to your hall closet to hang it. Closing your door and locking it, you growl out,
“You need to leave. I haven’t even finished getting ready. I promise I’ll—”
“No, pet.”
“Will you quit interrupting me! Simon, I swear—”
“Pet.” 
You’re holding a scream behind your teeth, about to rip the hair out of your scalp when you see Simon take one loop of his mask off from around his ear and then the other. You gape. You’ve seen Simon without his mask— that isn’t the reason you can no longer find your voice. It’s the way he put his gloved middle finger in between his teeth and pulled it off so sensually. You can feel your cheeks and ears radiate heat from just seeing the tip of his pink tongue. Christ, you’re down horrendously.
You open your mouth to say something, anything, to distract yourself from the fact that you’re getting wet over an interaction so chaste when Simon is touching your ass, giving it a hard squeeze, before moving down to the back of your thighs and lifting you up. You startle at the movement and throw your arms around his neck out of habit, hoping he won’t drop you in the move to your bedroom.
He presses you against the wall with his hips, then grabs both of your ankles from behind his lower back and hooks the back of your knees over his forearms. Simon noses your jaw and starts grinding his clothed erection deliciously hard over the definitely wet spot on your shorts and growls out, 
“If you think,” grind “that I’m gonna allow My,” grind “Girl,”  grind—and you whimper in his ear,  “get fucked by some little cock two pump chump,” he gives a forced chuckle, “you must be daft, pet. Or maybe you’re doing it on purpose, eh? Trying to get my attention? Well, you’ve got it now. “ 
He moves his face to hover his lips over yours— you can lightly smell the bourbon he drank earlier— and he whispers, “You ever like this and I’m around, you come to me. And if I’m away, you wait for me like a good girl and when I come back I’ll give this,” he taps your pussy over your shorts, “greedy little cunt all the cock it can take.”
With a shaky breath, you nod before he kisses you, his bourbon-flavored tongue curling against yours, and you’re moaning into it because you’ve wanted this for too long and he’s finally touching you. Curling your fingers into his ash-brown hair, you move your mouth to his neck, to the right of his adam’s apple, took a bit of skin between your teeth and sucked. 
Simon hisses, dips his fingertips into your flesh hard enough to bruise, and all but yanks you off the wall to toss you onto your bed. 
You yelp as you bounce from the force of his throw— you’re still bouncing on the bed when Simon grabs the waistband of your shorts and knickers to pull right off, which you’re grateful for because the grey knickers you got on aren’t what anyone would wear for a first, second nor third impression.
Simon grabs both of the back of your knees with one hand,  goddamn bear paws, you think, before you feel his tongue in between your lips— so warm and wet and fuck, you needed this, needed him— and he flicks his tongue up and down on your clit. He sticks his long middle finger into you and it goes in without resistance, you’re slippery, drooling over his wrist and finger that’s curled up into the rough patch of nerves against your gummy walls, that he’s pressing into, over and over. God you’re about to come, your legs shake in his one-handed hold and you’ve got a white knuckle grip on the forearm you’re sinking your nails into—
Simon pulls away. You were so close, your eyes start watering because he can’t possibly be this mean to you but then you see him shove his tongue in between his middle and ring finger, eating up your nectar when he says, “The first time I’m gonna make you come, it’ll be on my cock. I want to see the frothy white cream you're gonna leave at the base.” 
You’re nodding hysterically at this point, anything for him to make you come, anything for him.  With a twirl of his index, he’s telling you to get on all fours. Scrambling, you turn over and arch your back— resting your head on your forearms— and you feel his calloused palms run down from your spine to your ass cheeks before he gives it a spank. 
“You have a condom?” 
You shake your head and you mewl out, “No, but I’m clean.”
“Good. I don’t want anything between us.”
You arch your back further, pressing your ass further into his hips when you hear his belt buckle clank and zipper open. Simon brings his palm to your other cheek, reddening it. 
“Fuckin’ hell, pet. Look at you spread out for me.” 
You feel warm velvet over steel over your slit before he slowly pushes inside, not all the way but about a little over half of his length, remembering that your g-spot is a little closer to the front. Fast, relatively shallow thrusts hitting your spot with almost clinical precision have you reeling, your orgasm about to break you, mind and body. Hands tightening painfully, you shatter— loud, high-pitched whines, ringing in your ears and pussy pulsing around Simon’s thick girth— and god, Simon doesn’t stop thrusting. He keeps the same smooth rhythm and you’d think he’s unaffected by the tight vice your pussy has him in— but you hear him, low, deep groans and a tighter grip on your hips telling you otherwise. 
He pulls out to bend over your back, completely covering it, and he murmurs in your ear, “I hope you didn’t think we were done. My girl wanted a fuckin’, now she’s gonna get it.” 
He takes off your pink, silly scrunchy and you see it around his tattooed wrist before he grabs your hair into a makeshift ponytail and is leaning back up and forcing your back to arch under his pull. You feel his leg at the height of your hips— propped up, foot flat on the bed and knee bent and the other straight on the floor and all you can think of is how this man is gonna kill you with his cock. 
Simon snaps his hips forward, fist full of hair pulling back,  stretching and filling in one strong thrust, bottoming out. He gives you no reprieve, no time to get used to how fucking deep he is, and sets an intense, firm pace that has you feeling a pinch below the navel every time his hip bones slap against your ass, balls to the clit and you love it. Every pinch in your lower belly has your pussy making a squelching sound and you can’t help yourself— you reach underneath your body to feel how split open you are with two fingers, encasing his cock and feeling the skin drag with them as he pulls out.
That has him hissing air between his teeth, he’s about to come but doesn't want it to be over so he pulls out, and opens your cheeks to spit in your furled hole, before pressing in with the pad of his thumb, and you’re almost screaming. He moves back a bit further to spit in your pussy, not that you need it— you’re drenching the sheets underneath you— and now he’s spearing you with his tongue before curling it, getting your juices pooled on it before coming back up, lips smacking, and he grabs your hair in his ponytail and now he uses his other hand to curls his fingers and palm over the front of your throat and that's all it takes for your vision to darken and arms go limp but he’s again, fucking you through your orgasm and this time you leave a creamy white ring at the base of his length. 
“Oh, fuckin hell.” He groans out and it sounds desperate and you know he’s close.
“Come in me, Simon. Please fill me up, I promise I’ll keep it all in.”
He gives a strained chuckle and says, “Pet, I can barely pull out of a driveway much less this tight little cunt.” He squeezes your throat hard, strands of hair popping out of your scalp and his cock feels massive, the pinch in your stomach feels like a cramp from how deep he is and he lets out a low drawn out moan that lasts 3 thrusts— and then there’s warmth filling you up, so much so it leaks from the sides of where you two are connected. Simon lets go of your hair and you fall face-first onto the bed, exhausted. Defeated. Back properly broken. You officially know what it’s like to get fucked within an inch of your life and you love it. 
He pulls out slowly, with a hiss from both of you and with one hand on your left cheek, he spreads you to look at your stuffed hole.
“Fuck. I love seeing me drip out of you.” 
You’re about to tell him to sod off when the doorbell rings and the both of you stiffen and lock eyes. With a mean snarl, Simon grabs a towel from your bathroom and his mask before stomping his way to answer the door, pink obnoxious scrunchy still on his wrist.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
3K notes · View notes
forlix · 6 months
Text
· . ˚ 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞
— the moments in which the members of stray kids realize how they truly feel about you.
Tumblr media
words・1.4k / pairings・ot8 x gn!reader / warnings・depictions of conflict and anxiety in hyunjin's and han's / genres・domestic fluff, smidges of hurt/comfort, established relationships
a/n・thought i'd try out a new fic format :-) i had so much fun writing these and hope you like reading them just as much. any and all feedback is appreciated, as always!
Tumblr media
chan is in a heated staring contest with his notepad when the door opens, and he knows that it’s you who comes in, but his head is miles away, tangled in an amalgamation of syllables and rhythms. he goes on to forget that you’re here for a short while, poring over the unfinished lyrics in front of him with undivided focus. that is, until he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder.
you’ve just pulled a chair up next to his desk. “lemme see,” you say, gesturing to the notepad. there’s a surprised pause, and then chan places it in your hand, scoots closer to you.
you spend the next two hours talking him through his block, but there are periods when you fall silent to brainstorm or to write something down, and chan takes those quiet opportunities just to look at you: wearing one of his old t-shirts, your hair still damp from your shower, completely concentrated. and he knows, then, that he wants to marry you.
Tumblr media
minho doesn’t realize he loves you in a singular moment. rather, he has a faint inkling for some time, and then the rug is randomly pulled from beneath his feet, and all of a sudden he can’t remember a version of his world that didn't have you at its center.
there are times when he’s especially aware of his feelings, though. like when he throws a witty remark in your direction and your retort comes back twice as sharp. when your eyes and smile light up like lanterns as you talk to him about your passions. when one (or all) of his cats hover at your side as you go about your day. when he returns home after a grueling practice and you’re there to offer him your comfort, no matter his withdrawn demeanor or sweaty skin.
he is a quiet lover, and sometimes he worries that he’s too quiet, that you have no idea what’s going on inside him every time he looks at you. but words have never really been necessary with minho. you know. you just do.
Tumblr media
changbin is greeted by a chilly breeze when he emerges from the gym, and he silently chastizes himself for forgetting to bring an outer layer yet again. but the temperature moves to the back of his mind when he spots you, waiting on the sidewalk, as you said you would. a familiar grin breaks across your face when you see him, and he feels its shape against his lips when he runs over and kisses you, in lieu of hello.
“what are you feeling for dinner?” you ask once he’s pulled away, and he realizes that you’ve pressed something to his chest: one of the hoodies that he keeps at your place, still soft and warm from just coming out of the dryer. and boom—the epiphany hits him, instantly and unequivocally.
he is dumbfounded for a moment, just processing the newfound discovery; and then, out of nowhere, the two of you say the name of the same restaurant at the same time. he swears he never believed in soulmates until he met you.
Tumblr media
hyunjin has always held so many emotions in his heart so fervently, to the point that they sometimes overflow in the form of words that he doesn’t believe, in a tone that he doesn’t intend. and it happened again today, when he spoke to you the wrong way in a moment of pure impulse, and the surprise on your face morphed into poorly-disguised hurt.
a few hours later, the weight of his actions sits heavily on his shoulders. when he lifts his phone to call you, his hands are shaking a little, and a breathy apology spills from his lips the moment he hears you on the other end: “i’m sorry, angel. i’m trying, i promise. i really am.” to which you answer, “i know, hyune. i forgive you. we’ll keep trying together, okay?” and your words pull his heartstrings in a new direction entirely.
he asks if he can come over, you say yes, and he tells you he loves you as soon as you open the door. he’s done hiding his heart from you.
Tumblr media
jisung’s contagious grin and raucous cackle come easily to him for the most part, but there are times when he forgets how it feels to laugh or to breathe, times when he wants only to hide from the world and all of its scariest parts. and when you see his figure in the doorway tonight, his face cast in a nameless shadow, his shoulders sunken in quiet defeat, you understand immediately that this is one of those times.
“do you wanna talk about it?” you ask as he approaches you. silently, he shakes his head: not tonight. but his body language asks for what he cannot verbalize. you extend your arms toward him, and he buries himself in them the second he’s close enough to, his face nestling the crook of your neck, the tension in his limbs melting at your gentle touch. you stay there for a long time, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades, coaxing him back to the ground, back to you.
wherever he chooses to hide, he thinks he’d like to take you with him.
Tumblr media
when felix opens his eyes, the space in the bed next to him is empty, and the faint scent of flour and sugar wafts through the gap beneath his door.
he gets to his feet, throws on some clothes, and wanders in the direction of the smell, rubbing the sleep from his eyes—and the sight that awaits him makes him wonder if he’s still dreaming. you’re standing at the stove, still in your pajamas, hair slightly disheveled from your rest, and there are pancakes in the frying pan before you; sliced strawberries on the cutting board next to the stove. and the look of sheer focus on your face, as if staring at the pancakes will cook them faster, absolutely destroys him. (and he knows in that moment that he wants to wake up to you for the rest of his life.)
with an enamored smile, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulls your back to his chest, and presses a light kiss to the nape of your neck. “morning, beautiful,” he mumbles sweetly. “how fucking lucky am i?”
Tumblr media
being around you makes seungmin feel like a kid with a crush. he smiles brighter and laughs louder. he opens like a lotus in bloom when you say his name. the floaty sensation he gets when you kiss his cheek or hold his hand persists for hours afterward—and none of it makes any fucking sense to him. it’s not that he doesn’t believe in love, but he’s never believed that love could feel like this, straight out of a sonnet.
now, your head is on his shoulder, your body rising and falling in your slumber. seungmin looks at your interlocked hands where they rest on his knee, and at the current track displayed on his lockscreen: “still” by day6, a song about losing and loving, about regret and reminiscence. those bright days between us are over, the lyrics go, and he makes a silent promise to your sleeping form that the bright days between the two of you will never end.
the word "love" still doesn't cross his mind, but it is etched all over his face, and carved into his soul.
Tumblr media
you and jeongin are telling each other about your days over dinner when your phone lights up with an incoming call, and he nearly spits out his mouthful when he sees who it’s from. for a few seconds, the two of you just stare at each other in flabbergasted silence. but then, you raise your phone to your ear: “hi, grandma! to what do i owe this pleasure?”
and the voice of his grandmother comes back through the receiver. she tells you that she’s just gone on an evening walk and found herself thinking of you, so she wanted to see how you’re doing; if you’re taking care of yourself. you rush to thank her, looking entirely flustered, and a bit like you’re about to burst into tears.
with that, the two of you launch into chatter about everything under the sun: grocery store discounts, the recent humidity, jeongin’s bad habits, you name it. and it finally dawns on jeongin how inextricably embedded in his life you have become—and that he doesn’t want it any other way.
Tumblr media
𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡
Tumblr media
© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.
4K notes · View notes
tojikai · 8 months
Text
Sundered 4: GEARS
Pairing: Gojo x reader
Part 1  |  Part 2  | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 …+
Genre: Angst
tags/cw: angst, mean!gojo(kinda), babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, suggestive smut, arguments, name-calling, L-bombs(lol)
word count: 6.7k
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Decisions take seconds to make but can take months and even years to realize and regret. 
Tumblr media
“I still love you, Y/N. So, so much.” 
Satoru wept, sniffing as he ran his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair. His vision was cloudy but the memories in his head were crystal clear. The day he met you, the day you told him the news; it was unexpected, but it gave Satoru a warm feeling in his chest. How could he let himself forget that feeling so easily? 
You don’t get to get her back. A voice in his head once again whispered to him, allowing sobs to erupt from his lips. 
The day he separated from you, he told you you’ll make things work, no matter what it takes. A few weeks after that his mother introduced Naomi to him. It wasn’t her job but she helped him work on himself, gave him all that she has to offer, and held him when he felt like losing his mind.
You were almost out of reach, mostly just talking to him when it concerns your daughter. It almost felt like he was fighting alone. It made him feel like he was not changing anything. He barely sees your face; barely feels you. 
And then it happened, in such a short span of time. Naomi was the only one he sees, the only one he feels with him. 
“It could work, you know? But only if both sides are committed to making it work.” She said, “But like these gears,” She pointed at the constructible toy train of his daughter, “The gears will only work if they fit.” Satoru didn’t need to hear any more of her words to understand what she was trying to explain. 
He found himself smiling at her smiles and laughing at her laugh. He found himself saying: “We kinda fit, don’t you think?” nudging her playfully as they walked Yui to the park, earning a shy laugh from her.
He found himself spending more time with Naomi than spending time figuring things out with you. It all just happened in such a short span of time. 
It felt like setting himself free when he didn’t have to think about the problems with you. It was emancipating to just lie under the covers, snuggled up in bed with Naomi’s skin against his. It was a breath of fresh air to share the same breath as her every morning and night as they soak in each other’s embrace, feeling the warmth of their swollen lips on one another.
He wishes that he considered the day he’ll see you like that with someone else. 
To say that he was shocked when you came and saw him with Naomi was an understatement. He didn’t want it to be like that. He wanted to introduce her to you, to explain things to you, but for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He didn’t want you to think that you meant nothing to him. But at that time, he thought that he meant nothing to you. 
He searched for the emotions in your eyes but failed. He waited for your questions of “Why?” and “How?” but they never came. It’s like you just really stopped giving two shits about whatever happens in your relationship. And Naomi’s words reverberated in his head: “The gears will only work if they match.” 
And that’s how his decisions were made. 
That you deserve someone who’ll treat you how you want to be treated; that he deserves this serenity with Naomi, too. He’s not some kind of hero to keep heading for war when there’s a humble abode waiting for him. He thought that there was nothing for you and him but different paths. Maybe this is how falling out of love happens, he thought.
And that is how he learned that decisions can sometimes take months and even years to realize and regret. 
“I love you too much to fight anymore, Y/N.” Satoru was pretty sure that he was inaudible and incomprehensible by now. The cracks in his voice and his occasional hiccups were probably louder than any sound near his phone. “You know, I never meant any of the shit I said to you that day. You and Yui were the best thing to ever happen to me, never will I regret you, love.” 
He couldn’t even pay attention to your voice as he harshly wiped his tears away, blinking his eyes to look up at the blurry, colorful lights “I know you’re happy, I know you don’t even want to see me again if you’re given a choice.” Satoru shook his head, undoing the first two buttons of his shirt so as to help with the ache that is now smoldering his chest.
“But I just want to take those words back.” He whispered, running out of breath before quickly gasping, “Hell, I just want to take everything I did after I gave up on us back.” Getting nothing was painful enough, and so is getting up. 
He doesn’t know where he’s going but he trusts that his feet will take them to where he belongs.
—---------------------------------------
“Yeah, she’s sleeping now. Sunburnt and all.” You laughed, tilting your head as you tried to hold your phone between your ear and your shoulder. “‘Gumi talk, Daddy. Pwease,” You heard Megumi’s voice over Toji’s chuckles. You and Yui spent all day at their residence once again. The kids had a mini swimming party with the neighbor’s son, Yuuji. 
You can’t deny that your little girl’s been a bit more energetic nowadays. She’s also learning things, like pouring beverages into a cup; something from the internet that Toji has been teaching Megumi to do. “What do you wanna say?” Toji answered before the little kid’s voice followed. “Yui later. Come later. Uh, bye.” The little message made you giggle.
“She’s asleep now, ‘gumi~ We’ll visit again soon.” You heard Toji playfully scold him to go to bed already before getting back to the call, “I’ll tuck him in now. I’ll see you tomorrow, babe.” Humming, you said your good nights before ending the call. You watched Yui sleep, caressing her soft, blushing cheeks. 
Everything’s been going good, and you could only hope that it’ll also be good for her.
Placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, three knocks at the door almost gave you a heart attack. It’s already late, who could it be? The place is a three-unit, up-and-down apartment, maybe someone got the wrong door. Wrapping yourself in a robe, you walked to the door. There was a muffled sound behind, and you can’t miss your name being mumbled.
You know the voice too well to wait any longer for confirmation.
“Satoru?” You spoke, brows knitting together. His hair and shirt were soaked in sweat. “Hey…” He laughed, standing straight as he stared at you with bloodshot eyes. Has he been crying? “What’s going on, Satoru?” You opened the door, letting him make his way inside as you gave him a concerned look.
“I mean it, Y/N.” What is he talking about? You wondered as he looked at you, sobbing all while trying to catch his breath. If somebody else saw him, they’d probably think something really awful happened. Not once have you seen him this broken before; not even when you fought so bad he had to leave the house.
“Satoru, I don’t understand you. You’re dru–“ You were cut off when he wrapped his arms around you, crying on your shoulders as he grabbed the sides of your robe, like a child not wanting to be left alone. “Y/N, please. I know what I’m saying, love.” He was gasping for air as he spoke, pulling away 
“I know I’m drunk but not drunk enough to make wrong decisions.” His laugh lacked enthusiasm. Pulling away, you could see the smile on his face contradicts the big tears cascading down his cheeks. “Did you drive here?” You pulled away from his grasp, thinking about the next thing to do. 
“No, I walked here. Let’s talk, please. Just a few–“ His face was close to yours, begging. His voice broke, and it broke you too and you know you can’t keep listening if he’s like this. “Satoru.” You turned, taking a step away from him. You could hear the shaky breath he took by how quiet it was. 
“Yui’s already asleep.” You informed him, a subtle reminder that you wouldn’t want her waking up to a commotion again. Satoru nodded, lips quivering. “I can call Naomi to pick you up–“ You trailed but it was now his turn to cut you off. “No. I don’t…want that.” He knows it doesn’t sound right, and it gave you the impression that they fought.
“Fine, just your mom, then.” You turned to get your phone but his hand caught your wrist, a secure yet gentle grip. “No. Please.” He sounded like a kid. What has he done that not even the both of them can know that he’s here? “Can I stay here? Just for the night. I’ll sleep on the couch, Y/N. W-we’ll talk later… right?” He was on the verge of crying and you can’t stand there to watch any longer. 
You don’t think it was a good idea, but this is the father of your child. Whatever happens to him will affect your daughter too. 
“Just…wash up. Change. Check on Yui, if you want. I got a folding bed if you want to sleep there.” You turned around before walking back to your room, not waiting for the man to answer. You were planning to have some tea before going to sleep but now you just want to call Toji.
In two rings, you heard his voice from the other line. “Sorry, were you sleeping already?” You paced around your room, pursing your lips. “No, I was just checking on some files. Are you alright?” Concern was prominent in his voice. You wanted to tell him about this because he has a habit of coming over in the mornings. You surely don’t want him getting the wrong idea.
“Listen, Satoru’s here. I feel like he fought with Naomi, I don’t really know. He’s in Yui’s room.” There was a long silence and you got a feeling he was thinking carefully about how to react. “Is he trying to…” Toji cleared his throat before sighing, “Do you need me to go there?” He asked, and you could tell he was not very comfortable with your situation.
It’s only been a couple of months but Toji’s proven nothing but sincerity to you and it was all unconditional. You’re aware of the tension between him and Satoru; the latter being more impolite than the former. But even so, Toji never tried to take away the father role from Satoru. This only heightened your respect for him.
“It’s fine, I just wanted to tell you. I don’t want you thinking anything if you saw him here tomorrow.” You plopped on the bed, massaging your temple as you closed your eyes. “So, you know I’ll be going there tomorrow?” There was a chuckle behind his words. You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks.
“Go to sleep.” You rubbed your eyes, with a small smile on your lips. Once again, good nights were exchanged between the two of you. You’re just glad that Toji isn’t as shallow as other men. You were worried that your decision to let your ex stay for a night would upset him. Putting your thoughts to rest, you lay down on the bed, feeling the soft mattress against your skin. 
Not even half an hour has passed and another set of knocks startled you. The fact that you have no idea what happened with Satoru made you worry. Could it be Naomi? Was your name involved in their fight? You doubt that she’d come here at this hour, though. You don’t see her as that type of woman at all. 
You don’t even know if they really fought. Thoughts raced through your head as you hurried to the door. You wondered if Satoru was woken up by the knocks. He’s drunk and he sleeps like a log when he's drunk. But it would be different if your daughter starts crying. You don’t really want to talk with him about whatever it is. 
It scares you when you think about how ‘the talk’ with him ended the last time. The day he shredded the last remaining hope you had of him, you and your daughter being a family.
Seeing headlights shining down your window pane, you wondered if Toji really drove here to accompany you. But he can’t be that fast, you thought as you opened the door.
Dressed in her expensive coat and a designer scarf, was Satoru’s mother, and you could already tell that she was not in her best mood. If Naomi and Satoru fought, you’re sure that your name’s mentioned.
Without thinking, you moved out of the doorway to let her in, “Good evening, Ma’am—” Slap. The next thing you know, you were already grabbing your cheeks. The skin was throbbing from the force of the contact and you were sure that this is about to leave marks later on. 
“Won’t you quit being a slut?” You thought that the stinging sensation on your face was already painful, but those words proved you wrong. You felt degraded, humiliated even when no one was around; you felt like your whole being was trampled on. You don’t even know what you did. Does she hate you that much?
She used to claim that you ruined her son’s life. That you were just trying to leech off him so you wouldn’t need to work or use your brain. Those words broke your heart, not for yourself but for your mother who tried so hard to give you all that she can. When Satoru confronted her about it, she cried to him, blabbering about why she was right.
It wasn’t easy to speak about those things, you don’t want to make it seem like you were tearing him away from his mother, all while you were tearing him apart due to your situation back then. But you made sure that he knows the reason why you don’t want her around your daughter so much. 
You wouldn’t be surprised if she’s the one who coaxed Yui to call Naomi Mama. After all, she’s also the same mother who shoved someone else into her son instead of helping to make sure that his granddaughter would grow up with a whole family. Do you disgust her that much? It shouldn’t be painful anymore at this point. She already won in kicking you out of her son’s life.
“I-I don’t know what’s going on, Ma’am. My daughter’s sleeping can we talk outside—?” Her scoff halted you. You found yourself wishing that you let Toji come over or for Satoru to wake up. “Now, you don’t want your daughter hearing about her mother’s mess?” She hissed at your face, laughing as you pushed yourself to walk out and close the door behind you.
“Satoru’s here Ma’am but I don’t—” Another slap landed on your face and this time it took everything in you not to throw the punch you were saving in your fist. “How fucking desperate can you be?” With her eyes blown wide in surprise, she pushed passed you, mouth foaming with her nasty words. 
“Satoru!” She called out, walking like she owns the place. “You really took advantage of his feelings for you. You’re always so ready to ruin his and Naomi’s relationship so he’d go back to you.” She turned, pointing a finger at you. Your eyes widened at her words. Satoru’s feelings for me? You were confused.
“Just so you know, my son’s never been healthier ever since he left you. He doesn’t need a toxic relationship with a woman he didn’t even choose to be with.” The words were sharp and the way to your daughter’s room felt like you were being shot with each step. You already know that. 
Why does she have to keep rubbing it to your face that you weren’t someone he voluntarily chose to love?
“Please don’t bring the child to this. I know you—” You felt like you never had the chance to speak a full sentence. “Of course, I am not. I won’t let her grow up with you. For what? So she could turn out to be like you, too? Satoru!” The words filled you with dread. You feared that they could easily take her away from you by any means they can. You got nothing to give. 
Before she could even open the door to your daughter’s room, Satoru already came out. The emotions on his face were indiscernible as she stared at his mother. “Don’t take Yui, please. I won’t talk to Satoru if you want, just don’t take my child away.” You cried, ready to get down on your knees but Satoru was immediately on your side.
“What is this? What is going on? Mom!” Satoru held your figure, shaking violently and your skin, cold. You tried to get out of Satoru’s grasp, wanting nothing but to get close to your child who’s already starting to cry. You hated yourself for putting her in situations like this.
“Let me get Yui, Satoru, please. You can’t take her away.” Satoru was now the one baffled. His head felt like someone was hitting his skull with a hammer from the inside. Now, he wakes up to his mom causing commotion in a house where his daughter is in.
“No one’s taking Yui away, Y/N.” One of his arms wrapped around your waist, and the other, shielding you from his Mom. Satoru used to believe that his mother only wanted the best for him. He didn’t realize that what his mom wants for him is not the best for his daughter. “Mom, what are you doing?!” He reiterated through clenched jaws as you slipped away to get to Yui.
“You ask me what am I doing? You! Satoru, what are you doing, letting this whore ruin you and Naomi?” Satoru’s eyes widened, "Mom!" he looked at you and his wailing daughter, holding her against your chest. Terror was clear in her tear-stained face as she peeked over your shoulders, while you try to keep her eyes away from the chaos, “Bad Meemaw, Bad!” She sobbed, pointing her finger.
Satoru was about to close the door when his mother tried to beat him to it. “Is this how you want to raise your daughter, Satoru? In this environment?!” She was fierce with her words and Satoru’s just slowly putting the pieces together as she spoke. “She’s messing with your head, Satoru. Look at her, getting it on with another rich guy to milk, trying to make you come back to her.”
“You're the one creating this environment. Why did you even come here?” He questioned, stepping in front of her to prevent her from getting to you. “Where else would you be? You just called me saying you still love this bitch—” You don’t understand how a person could hate you so much when you’ve done nothing but try to respect them. “Don’t speak of her like that, Mom! You’re not of any help.” There was a hint of exasperation in his voice.
Satoru’s mother was the second wife to his father. Your mother used to say that 'the woman's just bitter because she knows that she’ll never really have his father’s heart even if she’s the one with him.' The first wife of his father went away, not wanting her only child to be in such tough and disconcerting conditions and just letting Satoru’s father be with his Mom. 
Thinking about it now, you realized that your situation is kind of similar.
“Ma, no cry. Ma.” You heard your daughter reach for your face, making you ache even more. History really does repeat itself, you thought. “Mama’s fine.” You felt sorry for your child; for allowing her to witness something this chaotic. You wished that you’re a bit more well off, maybe her mother wouldn’t be so small and fragile against people like her grandmother. 
“I didn’t call Y/N...” Satoru whispered, turning to look at your back as you tried to protect your daughter from the scene. “Just because he’s wasted and he’s telling you that he loves you, doesn’t mean you get to slither up at him like a snake!” Words were thrown at you and only now have you realized the situation. 
Satoru tried to call your number to tell you that he loves you.
Your eyes snapped up at him, catching him looking already looking at you. He did plan to let you know about how he feels. But he didn’t want you to find out like this. He already messed up by letting himself break down and call the wrong person. Hell, he shouldn’t have even said it in a call.
It just hurts so bad. It’s like the words would pierce their way out of his heart and lungs if he didn’t get them out.
He can’t even expect anything, and he doesn’t even know how you’d take it. He could lose you completely after all this and that’s the last thing he wants. Now that you have Toji, he’s got no choice but to stand aside and watch. Like how he made you feel with Naomi. The thought made Satoru swallow as he took in your crying face; his chest throbbing with pain.
“Mom, can you please just leave?” He spoke in a low voice, breathing hard to stop himself from exploding. “You said too much already. Just go, this is my problem to fix.” His mother’s face tells Satoru she’s not letting up so easily and it took everything in him not to scream back at her. 
“Of course, I have so much to say. I am helping you because she has done so much to you–“ Before she could even her sentence, Satoru was already raising his voice at her, making you cover your daughter’s ear. “Mom, all you did was make things worse!” It was a bad sight, you’ve never seen him get angry at his mother. 
Knowing her situation with his Dad, Satoru always chose to be understanding to her. He once told you that he always wants his mother to feel loved and cared for because his father would never give her enough of that. “How could you? All because of–“ She trailed.
“You’re trespassing, Mom.” He said firmly, forcing himself to calm down. She knows what Satoru meant by that. You could file a case against her if she continues to cause trouble. “Listen, I don’t know what this woman fed you, but you better get your head straight.” She pointed a finger at Satoru’s face.
“I created this problem. Let me fix it by myself.” You could tell that fighting with his Mom is the last thing Satoru wants to do. There was a tired look on his face as he shook his head, “I wouldn’t want to create a space between us Mom. But I can’t let you involve yourself in every decision I make.” His mother can sense the light threat in Satoru’s words.
“Then, make the right decisions, Satoru. Stop ruining your life for someone with no future.” Before any of you could even talk, his mother was already stomping her way out of the room, slamming the door like it’s hers, causing Yui to start crying again. You sat there, thinking about everything you just heard.
“Shh, it’s okay, love. It’s alright.” Satoru took Yui from your arms, eyes full of worry. Rocking the weeping child in his arms, he hung his head low as you stared at him. You wiped the tears that were about to fall as you stood up, heading to the living room and letting him put Yui back to sleep.
You let yourself cry, you let yourself think. Just when you thought you were getting better, just when you started to accept everything that has happened. Yui’s cries slowly stopped after almost half an hour. You wanted to go there and put her to sleep by yourself but you don’t want her to see you cry anymore. It’s not good.
“What were you trying to do, Satoru?” were the first words that came out of your mouth. He stood there, motionless as he watched you turn away to wipe your eyes. “I…I love you. I didn’t mean it when I said I regret you or Yui. I love you.” His answer was a whisper but it was firm. Your eyebrows furrowed, tears once again threatening to fall. “Why?” You sobbed, “Why now?” 
Satoru doesn’t know what to answer. He doesn’t even know if there’s a right answer but all he knows is he can’t expect anything from you. “I…I still do. I don’t think I ever stopped, I—“ He was cut off by your sharp intake of breath as you clutched the fabric of your robe to your chest. He let himself see how much he destroyed you again, how he heartlessly tore you apart once more.
“Why are you trying to ruin me again? Why are you trying to take away what I just got?” Your shoulders shake as you lean your forehead on your clasped hands. He wanted to hold you but he feared that you'd run away. Like how you’re getting harder to reach right now, with every passing second.
“You have no idea how much I wanted you to say that before all this, Satoru. You have no idea how many nights I had to cry myself, putting myself back together while you were trying to make someone else whole!” You turned to him, cheeks and eyes swollen from crying. “You have no idea how many times I blamed myself for not being the better one for you…” You whimpered.
It felt as though your words were a blow to his body, determined to crush his diaphragm to gouge his heart out as payment for yours that he stomped on so many times. Your hands were visibly shaking as you wiped your eyes with the back of it before speaking again, “You can’t say you love me now just because you want to, Satoru.”
“I know I can’t change anything…” Everything that comes out of Satoru’s mouth makes him feel stupid. If he was you, he wouldn’t even listen to him. While you both had your shortcomings in your relationship, Satoru knows that you wouldn’t have pulled yourself away if he didn’t give you a reason to. 
“...but I can make it better, Y/N. I can prove it to you. Just let me—” He was getting desperate to put his feelings into words but you don’t want to hear it. He should’ve known. “Naomi is a good woman. She’s…a perfect fit for you.” You laughed bitterly, “Don’t hurt her. You know why I didn’t fight even when I wanted to get you back?” Each snivel that you make was a nail to his heart. 
“Because you looked happy together.” The pain in your voice was thick before you gasped for air. “And I didn’t want to be unfair to you and to Naomi.” There was a sad smile on your face, probably reminiscing the day you found out he moved on from you. “So…please. Let’s not be unfair to Toji, too.” You looked up at him, smiling through your tears. 
You looked tired; so, so tired of it all.  
“But I love you…” He breathed out as you stood up, ready to retire to bed. “...I just wanted you to know that.” He grabbed your hand, urgently kissing it as he sobbed. You watched his face contort with sadness, closing his eyes and letting his tear slide over the bridge of his nose as he tilted his head to your palm. 
You looked away, suppressing your cries; feeling it harder to breathe through the pain the more you feel his touch. You pulled your hands away slowly before quickly walking to your room. 
Before you locked the door, you could hear his wails of anguish and the sound of two hearts shattering once more.
—------------------------------------------------
You woke up to the feeling of the bed dipping on your side. What time is it? When did you fall asleep? Yui. Remembering your daughter made your eyes snap open, trying to stand up immediately.
“Hey, hey. Calm down, it’s me, I’m here.” It was Toji, when did he come here? The brightness of the color of your curtains indicates the light of the sun shining down behind it. “I forgot that I fell asleep.” You sighed. In fact, you don’t even remember getting on your bed. The last thing you were doing was crying on the floor beside the bedside table. Did Satoru put you in your bed?
“Satoru left after feeding Yui her breakfast. She’s playing on my phone.” He got closer to kiss your forehead. “It’s too early for phones.” You yawned, covering your face with a blanket before sitting down. “Megumi’s with her, I’m taking their phones away after we eat.“ You nodded, pursing your lips as you remembered all the events from last night.
“Let me brush my teeth, I…got something to tell you.” You can see Toji licking his lips before humming, “Alright, we'll talk about it. I cooked something.” Letting him kiss your cheek as you stood on your knees and wrap your arms around his neck. His hands automatically snaked around your waist, murmuring “Let’s talk while eating.” 
You told Toji about what happened the other night. Not as detailed as you remember it but you made sure that he knows everything he needs to know. No matter how awkward it was to discuss for you. There was a blank look on his face throughout the story and you can’t help but feel concerned.
“So that’s why he told me to take good care of you before he left.” It was obvious that he was tense, “I should’ve come last night.” Sighing, you shook your head, “It’s alright, I handled it. Please, try not to worry. You’re my boyfriend now.” You moved to sit beside him, pecking his lips. 
You didn’t know how else to reassure him, you don’t like seeing the defeated look in his eyes. Throughout the day, he would randomly kiss you; burying his face in your neck. He’s more clingy than usual, and although it worries you, you find it really cute.
The following weeks proceeded the same, Satoru picking up Yui and Naomi tagging along wasn’t new but it happened for consecutive weeks now. You don’t know if Satoru told her, but she showed no signs of it. Though her gazes linger between you and Satoru at times, but there’s not a hint of hostility to it. 
You don’t really know how they are with each other in private, but there’s a noticeable change in Satoru’s behavior towards her. “Get your bag from Naomi.” Satoru once commanded your daughter when you came to get her from his house. “Naomi?” She repeated, and running only after he nodded at her, confirming how she should address her.
“Did you take a cab? Toji’s not with you.” He would speak to you in a voice he never did before, it almost shocked you. He lost weight, he looks exhausted. “Yeah, he’s at work.” You answered earning a hum from him. “If you’re comfortable, I can take you home. It’d save you money, you know?” It was now your turn to hum, locking eyes with him.
When did they start looking this gently at you?
“You ready to go?” Naomi cleared her throat, suddenly appearing with Yui behind Satoru. “Yeah, I’ll be driving them home then I'll head straight to work.” He gave her a small smile, picking Yui up before taking the bag that Naomi was giving to you. “Bye, I love you.” Naomi stood on her tippy toes, kissing the side of his lips. “I'll see you later…love you." He responded.
The change on Naomi’s face cannot go unnoticed as she glanced at you. You looked down, feeling bad that she was probably anxious. And the fact that she’s clueless about it all just made it heavier than it already is. 
Satoru opened the door of the passenger side for you. Now, he would usually let you sit on the back. You had to glance back at his house to know if Naomi saw it. You don’t want her to have problems with you when in fact, you're trying to help her.
“How are you and Naomi?” You found yourself asking Satoru as he sat beside you, his eyes watched you from the rearview mirror. “I’m trying. I really am. But I can’t force myself, Y/N.” He looked away, biting his lip. Your daughter was talking to her doll behind you and you’re just grateful that she’s still too young to understand this.
“Satoru, she’s been nothing but good to you. She did a lot of things for you.” You spoke gently. You’re surprised that you could now talk about this more calmly. Because it involves you. And you wouldn’t know what to do if Naomi finds out that her boyfriend’s still in love with you, begged you to take him back and never told her. You don’t owe her anything but you’re not that type of person.
“Would it be right to stay with someone for that sole reason?” He asked, and suddenly, you don’t know the answer. “It might only hurt them more if they find out that you stayed with them just because you feel obligated to and not because you truly love them.” He explained, smiling when he heard his baby daughter call his name randomly.
“It’s Dad. Not ‘Toru” You reached over to pinch her cheek, silently thanking her for breaking the ice. “Toji Dada too? Hm?” You can see Satoru tense up before a sad look flashed in his eyes. “I don’t know, love...Ask Mama?” You can tell he was hurt by how he got quiet. The little joy left in his eyes, now completely gone.  
“You know Toji corrects her for that.” You defended as you stopped at the red light. “It’s good, though. I…” Pausing, Satoru took a deep breath. “I think he’s gonna be that, anyway.” He laughed, tapping the wheel before turning to look at you. 
“You know I just want to prove to you that I love you, right? You don’t have to love me back, I know you’re happy with him.” 
—----------------------------------------------------
Naomi’s been observing her boyfriend for the past few months. She can’t really determine what exactly changed but she knows that it wasn’t the same. The day you picked up Yui with Toji for the first time, she noticed that Satoru prepared more than he usually does. 
At first, she thought it was just him getting more responsible. But when she saw that you came with your new boyfriend, she got a feeling that Satoru wanted to impress. She figured that it was because he wants his baby momma’s boyfriend to think highly of him and left it at that. 
He’s been having mood swings but he’s also been getting more projects to work at so, it’s understandable. She also noticed how almost every movement of his daughter was documented and sent to you when she's with them. It was new because he rarely does it before. But she thought that it was only because your co-parenting plan was going better.
Everything that she notices about Satoru has valid reasons so, why is she feeling unsettled whenever the two of you would meet? It’s an unreasonable feeling because you’re already dating someone. There shouldn’t even be a single concern in her body.
Just a few weeks ago, his mother called her in the middle of the night, asking if Satoru was with him. When she said that she’ll call him to ask where he is, her mother quickly interrupted her, saying that he already replied that he was working overtime for a VIP client. She also said something about not interrupting him because the client’s a big person.
She still texted Satoru that night asking why he didn’t tell her about it. Satoru replied hours later, saying that it was an emergency project that needs to be discussed as soon as possible. After that, he sent another message with ‘I’m sorry.’ 
She came over the following night, intending to give him a soothing break. She prepared thoroughly during the day, wanting to please her boyfriend. Fatigue was obvious in his eyes when she arrived. Like he didn’t get an ounce of sleep.
“I’ll take that tiredness away, just relax in there.” She giggled, sensuously running down her fingers on his skin as she makes sure every physical contact they made was as soft as possible. She went down on him, watching him close his eyes as he grabbed her hair eliciting moans from her.
“Let’s do it without one,” She smiled, excited as she positioned herself on top of him, allowing him to feel her warmth as she pressed her chest against his. It was slow, passionate. He was so gentle with his touches and Naomi wanted to convince him to do it inside her so badly.
She was sure that all those perturbing thoughts of her would also be put to rest if that happens, she thought as she smiles, grinding onto him. But before she could get to that, he halted her, “Wait,” he spoke, reaching for the packet in his bedside cabinet. 
Before she could even speak she was flipped over and it’s now Satoru on top. “I can take Plan B, just do it inside.” She bit her nail, giving him the eyes which only earned a smile, “Can never be too safe.” Not long after that, they both finished. Back then, he would agree to do it inside as long as she takes an emergency contraceptive after.
How come he wanted to be ‘too safe’ this time?
Her worries were put to rest for a little when he held her close when they came to get Yui. It also helped that you're still with your boyfriend. It only lasted for a bit until you had to pick Yui up on your own. Satoru found out that you were taking Yui out for an ice cream and the little girl asked him to come. 
Naomi wanted to join; she was ready to dress up. But Satoru suggested that it should just be the middle day in your schedule, where the three of you would spend time together. It took everything in her not to frown in front of you. She felt rejected, she felt left out. The last straw was the talk she had with Satoru three days ago. 
“What do you think about civil weddings?” She spoke to him, sitting on his lap as he watches T.V. “Huh?” He turned his attention to her, “Civil weddings. Maybe we could have it before the grand wedding, don’t you think?” She wiggles her brows at him, laughing as she daydreamed. Placing his hands on her waist, she kissed his lips softly.
“Or maybe we could put a bun in the oven first so, she’d be with us in wedding photos.” She whispered, half-joking. “Why are you dreaming? It’s still early.” Satoru laughed, taking his hand off of her to get the remote, switching between channels.
“I’m serious, though.” She pouted, hugging his neck. “Yeah, I know. But…It’s not in my plans, yet.” Her heart dropped at his words. She knows that he doesn’t mean it that way but it hurt her that after all the family talk and jokes he made with her, she’ll find out that it’s not even in his plans yet. Naomi wanted to cry, but instead, she got upset. She didn't let him know but she chose not to stay over at Satoru’s that night, claiming that she has paperwork. Before, he would persuade her to stay even if she has to do something.
How come he just kissed her goodbye this time?
It was tough on Naomi. Whenever she would ask Satoru about it, he said that he just got really busy with work. Even when he tells her that he loves her, she can say that he’s not even fully into it. And he doesn’t want to talk to you because she doesn’t want you to think that she’s accusing you when you got a whole new boyfriend.
Picking up her phone, Naomi decided that she just can't take the mystery anymore. “Hey, Mom. Are you free for lunch? I’d like to catch up.”
She just needs some advice. And she thinks that no one knows sons better than their mothers.
Tumblr media
PREV  | NEXT
Tumblr media
taglist: @forever-war @astral-hydromancy @witchbybirth @coeqi @starshinedowo @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @lost-lonnie @haitanifxn @dearsunaa @clairdelunaax @anxious-chick @tigerchaeee @megufushi @tsukkisrightpinky @crowiechan @makimais @infinitemoonlight @iloveblogging2 @cloudsinthecosmos @uchiwife @bellaadonnas @lawlietily @lilxnvm @poopoobuttsy @yihona-san06 @luhvbot
@sagekko @lugkuic @asbony @uhremmi @kurookinnie @why-am-i-here-again-shitheads @galaxyfever @guenievresworld @y2kcy3brz @chocokaylarobin @hopeannalea @ruunavalentine @tojirin @teapartyspilled @ackermendick @shadowarchon @vinkiesz @awkwardaardvarkforever @btsw1fe @nvvacanesworld @wolffmaiden @underburningstars @rntrsuna @vampgguk @doulcha @creolequeen11210
4K notes · View notes
usoppsstar · 7 months
Text
When they grab your boob by accident🍑🍑🍑
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairings: Straw hat boys x f! Reader
Characters: Usopp,Luffy,Sanji, Zoro
Tw: crack/fluff/ your chest gets grabbed
Notes: This one is short and sweet; an idea I've had in the wips for a while; as always, this is proofread but there still may be mistakes🍑🍑🍑
Tumblr media
🍑Usopp
You both were fighting an enemy when Usopp jumped between you to pull out one of his moves. When announcing the move though, he dramatically threw his hand behind him and told you to stand back, only to plant his hand right on your chest.
Definitely screams like he was the one who was assaulted before he yanks his hand away. Turns red like a beet too. He won't know what to focus on, the enemy or the fact that he just had your boob in his hand and that he low-key doesn't want to forget what that felt like. You end up taking care of the enemy for the two of you cuz this man short circuited.
He apologizes but unconsciously brings the moment up again just to apologize some more, for the rest of the day.
" Do your chest- breast- I mean BEST!!"
***🍑***
🍑Luffy
Was swiping everyone's food at dinner time when his hand accidentally flew past your plate and gripped your chest instead.
This man fr doesn't even process what he's holding right away. He'll just squish it a few times, wondering what food on the table could be that soft( a bread roll??) Before looking at his hand's destination and seeing you looking appalled.
You both don't get to hold eye contact for very long before Sanji notices and hops on his head
" That doesn't feel like food?! Y/n? Why is your boob where the food is??"
***🍑***
🍑Sanji
He was in the middle of one of his love-sick displays of affection and jumped to hug you from behind when a wave rocked the Sunny, resulting in his hands cupping your breasts. He really grips them too but not for the lechy reason you think, he was honestly just trying to protect you from falling like he usually would. You definitely yelp because I mean- he just got two handfuls of your ta tas out of nowhere
Is so shocked that his nosebleed gets delayed and he just falls backward. No one'll scold him cuz it was an accident, instead everyone just runs to see if he's about to need a blood transplant 
Doesn't hear anyone calling to him, all he can think about is how he touched your boobs( even if it was by accident)and how he'll never forget how it felt
He will apologize later after he gains consciousness though
" I- I- tou- *fountain of blood*."
***🍑***
🍑Zoro
Sanji had just passed out snacks for everyone.You were messing around with the youngests in the crew and helped them steal the last one of Zoro's. Things got a little messy when you were keeping it from him and When you swung it behind you and zoro reached for it, he grabbed your chest by accident
Is so shocked and so appalled that he doesn't let you go right away and you both just stand there stunned. He doesn't snap out of it until Usopp and Luffy start screaming and laughing, you even smile too once you see the blush flood past his face and down his neck.
Definitely blames you guys for playing too much and taking his stuff in the first place, is a blushing mess the entire rest of the day because he can't get the way you felt out of his head.
"That- wouldn't have happened if you'd just given it back!"
Tumblr media
A/n: Took a 3-week break off Tumblr to store up some work and this is all I accomplished in that time😐😐😐 Yeah the theme is so cute though! Definitely one of my top ten! Thanks for reading🍑🍑🍑
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
ioniiaa · 1 month
Text
My Darling, My Honey
Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 14- FINALE!)
Tumblr media
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 14 (Final)
Part 14:
A few weeks had passed by the time you were fully recovered. In those weeks, the hotel was busy and bustling in preparation for the wedding.
To make sure you recovered properly, Charlie insisted that she and Vaggie be in charge of wedding planning during this time. You didn't have any objections to it, your only requirements were that it was kept low-key (meaning a small wedding with only those closest to you guys) and that it was to be a simple and short ceremony with Charlie as the officiant.
While the rest of the gang were busy going about their normal lives and helping out with some preparation here and there, Alastor had your belongings moved to his room and took care of your injuries and saw to your recovery personally.
It broke his heart to see how badly you had been injured prior to your arrival at the hotel. He also felt extremely guilty about how roughly he had treated you, accidentally making some of your injuries worse temporarily. To heal his heart and mind, he had to heal your body first.
The two of you spent so much time together, hardly ever spent a moment apart- you two had a lot of lost time to make up for after all. Often as Alastor tended to your injuries, changed your bandages, and even helped bathe you to ensure you wouldn't slip or fall as you got in and out of the tub- you two exchanged stories of all kinds. Stories from when you were both alive, your pasts when alive, and so much that had happened in the decades in Hell that had passed when the two of you were separated.
As the date of the ceremony approached, after you had mostly recovered, matters required you to leave the hotel more often.
For example, when it came to dress shopping, Alastor was very insistent that he had to come with- he was still very paranoid that if you were separated from his side that you would come to harm. Though with enough pestering- Charlie was finally able to convince him to stay at the hotel so that the wedding dress shopping party only consisted of you, Charlie, and Angel.
Shopping with the two of them was a fun memory you'll never forget, with lots of laughter because of the hilarious contrast between Charlie's wholesome comments/tearing up and Angel's teasing/cat-calling (in a loving way- of course). Though when you finally tried on the dress, even Angel had no witty comebacks to respond with, both him and Charlie were left speechless.
Angel and Charlie weren't the only ones speechless - when those who were invited to the wedding showed up the hotel, they all had their mouths gaping open at the amazing decor. They few guests assumed that the invitation they received in the mail was a prank!
(Charlie may have needed to ask some favors from Lucifer for the decorations- though he couldn't hide his disgust as to who his daughter was asking him to do this for... His distaste for Alastor was always apparent. But who are we kidding- Lucifer can't resist Charlie's puppy-dog begging eyes no matter what.)
Jovial jazz music filled the air as Alastor walked out into the main lobby, "Why hello! It is so good to see you, Rosie! ... Mimzy."
"Oh Alastor! How come ya never introduced me to ya darlin' (y/n) before!" Rosie flashed her signature smile and sauntered over to give Alastor a tight hug.
"Yeah! Geeze, Alastor, after all we've been through, you never thought to bring her over to my joint or ya know, let me know she was even down here! I've missed the gal too, ya know!" Mimzy stomped on over to Alastor, hands on her hips as she glared at him.
"Hmmmm. Ah yes, Mimzy. How could I ever forget to bring her over to your... "sophisticated"... bar where she "definitely wouldn't" be in danger?" Static noises started to interrupt the music that had started playing earlier. Alastor would be lying if he said he was happy to see Mimzy. He knew she was important to you, but part of him can't help but blame her for your early death. Not only that, but she always had a habit of bringing trouble wherever she went, forcing him to clean up her messes. He didn't trust her to keep you out of danger.
"Well! If I do say so myself, I am parched! Where can a lady quench her thirst in this joint?" Rosie piped up to break up the tension as she walked around the room and examined the decor some more. "Alastor, I really love what ya guys did to this place- stunning work, really!"
"Oh my gosh, hi, Rosie! Nice to meet you again, Mimzy! It's been so long!" Charlie seemingly burst out of nowhere and shook both Rosie and Mimzy's hands. For once Alastor was thankful for the princess's ability to not read the room.
"This way, this way! The ceremony will be held in one of the ballrooms, follow me!"
After being relieved of Rosie and Mimzy's presence, Alastor disappeared into the shadows to retreat into this radio tower where he would remain until it was time.
With Rosie and Mimzy's arrival, the last of the guests had arrived. Yup, it was a very small group- just as you had requested (much to Alastor's relief. He could easily handle people, but you knew large groups of people irritated him much more than he would let on).
Meanwhile, Angel was helping you get ready. He knew his way around makeup and beauty the best out of anyone in the hotel after all.
You sat on a stool as Angel fussed over all the little details of your hair and makeup. As he did so with remarkable speed (due to his many arms), you found yourself smiling.
Not only was it the day that you would finally exchange vows with your beloved Alastor, but you found yourself smiling as you reminisced on the journey that led up to this moment- how you've come to truly cherish your newfound friendships with everyone at the hotel.
Angel, who became a very close friend to you after you two had many heart-to-hearts and shared a fondness for cracking jokes, something you discovered over many nights at the bar together. Often after you two were done at the bar, you'd have beauty/spa nights which often led to more gossip sessions- something you were never able to indulge in when you were alive. Occasionally even Cherri joined in on the gossip sessions- practically bursting the door down if she ever felt like stopping by unannounced.
Husk, was someone you could always trust him to give his honest and objective opinion on anything you asked- which you found to be invaluable whenever you showed him any of your art. Though he often didn't understand the abstract complexities you drew, it was always a great source of entertainment for you- his confusion apparent as he tried to interpret it seriously before giving up with a "Fuck it, I don't know anything about this bougie shit!" - always causing you to erupt in laughter every time without fail.
Charlie, of course, was always your ray of sunshine and was someone you very much respected. She saved your life without knowing who you were, regardless of the potential danger. You feel as if you'd never be able to repay her kindness, so you offer to stay at the hotel even after you recover and help work however you can after the wedding.
Vaggie, you felt a kindred spirit in and also respected a great deal. Someone with such an intense sense of justice and duty was truly a sight to see, you could always see it in her eyes. She was often busy, so you hadn't been able to spend as much time with her as you would have liked to so far, the few times you were able to sit down with her were always a pleasure. Whenever she needed love/relationship advice, she came to you. Funnily enough, Charlie did too, so you were flattered that the two girls liked and trusted you so much.
Even Nifty, who always made sure to dust you or pluck some random out-of-place hair whenever she saw you, stopped calling you stinky! You wondered if it was because you spent most of your time around Alastor...?
"Alright! Hehe, you look absolutely stunning if I do say so myself, doll face!" Angel stood back from you to admire his work with a huge satisfied grin on his face.
He spun you around to face the mirror that your back was previously facing, "Hey, whaddya think? One of my best works yet!"
You chuckle and lean in closer to the mirror, "Wow... Angel! Gosh... you never cease to amaze me!"
You then stand up and give Angel a hug, "Thank you... Angel... this means a lot to me..." Angel pulls back from the hug and nudges you in the shoulder, "Hey now toots, no crying on me now! We just finished your makeup, don't go ruining it now!"
"I know! I know! Haha!" You laugh and smack him back playfully.
"Ah shit, it's almost time, we gotta get a move on, come on!" Angel quickly grabs your bouquet with one hand and takes your hand wit another and leads you down what feels like a maze of corridors. He lets go of your hand when the two of you reach a set of double doors that indicates it's one of the ballrooms and not just a regular room.
Upon hearing your arrival, you see Charlie's head peek out of the door. After seeing you standing there, she quickly sneaks of the ballroom. "FIrst of all- oh my gosh (y/n)! You look BEAUTIFUL! But it's time for your entrance, lets go!" Charlie offers her arm out to you. You link your arm through her's, then you look over at Angel who hands you your bouquet, "You got this ,(y/n)." He said with a wink before slipping into the ballroom.
You took a deep breath and looked at Charlie who gave you a heartwarming nod as she took a step closer to the door, hand grasping the handle. "Ready, (y/n)?"
"I've been ready for decades."
Upon entering the small ballroom, soft jazz music filled the air and you gasped as you took a look around the stunningly decorated space. Charlie was very insistent that this be a surprise and by god, you were speechless- you never could have dreamed of a more beautiful space to finally exchange vows with your beloved Alastor. You were starting to get misty-eyed already!
The very same Alastor who was now all dressed up in a new formal outfit and stood at the other end of the ballroom with his hand outstretched towards you. It took all the self-control you had to keep you from running into his arms right then and there.
Walking to the front, you pass by the small group of friends both you and Alastor had invited to this exclusive occasion. You could see Rosie clutching her hands to her chest in awe, Mimzy was trying to fight back tears as she kept dabbing her eyes (ruining her makeup in the process), and the rest of the hotel members. Angel was clinging onto Husk for dear life as you heard a quiet whisper from the spider that was accompanied by a dramatic sniffle, "Oh god I never knew I was capable of feeling so sappy."
You chuckled at the sight of Nifty, who volunteered to be your "flower girl". She was scurrying all around, scattering petals but then immediately picking them back up again like it was the best game ever!
"Oh, be still my dead-yet-beating heart" You thought to yourself as you finally reached the front of the ballroom and were able to place your hands in Alastor's. You'd never seen Alastor this dressed up before. You always thought he was attractive but oh my god, was this a whole new playfield that you didn't even know was possible!
Charlie then went to stand next to Vaggie, who were both your officiants for the wedding. A bit untraditional, sure, but this was Hell- everything's a bit unconventional here.
The music fades to a quiet level before Charlie pipes up, starting the ceremony, "Thank you all for coming to celebrate this momentous occasion with us today! Today we are here to commemorate the marriage between (y/n) and Alastor!"
"In a shocking twist of events, the last few weeks have proven us wrong that yes, even the Radio Demon, is still capable of love." This remark from Vaggie earns a few chuckles from those sitting in the guest seats, earning a glare from Alastor as he tightened his grip on your hands. You rub your thumbs over his hands in reassurance, causing his grip to relax again. You smile at Charlie and Vaggie, nodding as you signal them to continue.
Charlie cleared her throat before she continued, "Ahem! Yes! But with that, we also gained an amazing new friend here - (y/n)! And I just want to say (y/n) that I am SO proud of you, you've done nothing but bring lots of joy and laughter into this hotel. I think I can speak for everyone when I say that we love you and appreciate you (y/n)! Alastor is a very lucky man and we are honored to be a part of your journey!" You could hear some applause and a holler that likely came from Angel- because you heard a scoff from Husk that followed immediately after.
"That's right, Charlie! Because we respect you both so much, we'll not delay you two love-birds from finally exchanging your vows any longer." Vaggie said as she dragged Charlie away to take a seat in the audience.
You take a deep breath and look into Alastor's eyes, your heart racing a mile a minute.
"I honestly thought I would know what to say by now! I've been dreaming of this day for decades!" You nervously laugh out loud before continuing, "All I can think about now is how thankful I am to have met you when we were alive. You gave me a spark of light and hope in the darkness that I never thought was possible in my life. Meeting you gave me the courage to break free from the cage that kept me trapped like a poor little bird who couldn't fly free. You showed me what true love should be like- even if it meant eating a few people along the way... haha. But you treasured me, you gave my life meaning again and I'll always love you. I'll always be your's, Alastor."
You look down at the floor, embarrassed that you spilled your heart out in front of so many people. Now it was Alastor's turn to reassure you with a gentle squeeze of the hands.
"My dearest (y/n), now, I am not usually one to be so 'sappy'- especially in the company of others, however, I think I can make an exception for you this one time."
Alastor took one hand, the other still holding your other hand, and gently lifted your chin back up so that your gaze would be back on him. To say that this made your heart skip a few beats would be an understatement!
"It may still shock you all, but yes, (y/n) is indeed my beloved that was taken from me all too soon back when we were alive. When I buried her body and held her in my arms for what I thought was the last time- I said these words that still ring true to this very day and will continue to do so forever more-, ' In life and in death, I am forever yours, as you are forever mine. I love you, (y/n)' " You feel the tears start to well up even more, threatening to burst forth at any second, all while not breaking eye contact with him as he continues on.
"I truly relish in this opportunity to finally make you mine, as I had wished to do so for what feels like an eternity. Much like you had described dear, your surprise appearance in my day-to-day life truly shook my world. Why, upon meeting you for the very first time, hearing your voice felt like it was akin to listening to most beautiful music I had ever heard- truly! As a radio host, I was very familiar with many musicians, but no instrument or vocalist ever held a candle to you my dear. No ever has and no one ever will, and I will be sure to protect you at all costs this time, ma chérie ..."
As he trailed off, your face immediately flushed red all over at Alastor's vows. But before you had time to process what was happening, Alastor manifested a new pair of rings and slid one onto your left hand, replacing the previous one. Then with a snap of the fingers, the other matching ring appeared on his left hand.
Somehow the rings were even more beautiful than the one you had before. Upon seeing the sight of both your and Alastor's hands finally wearing matching rings, you burst out into tears, overcome with emotion.
Alastor chuckles before pulling you in for a kiss- shocking everyone in the room, everyone making a collective gasp. Even your own eyes were wide open in shock, before you then relaxed into the kiss in Alastor's embrace.
It wasn't before long that the room was filled with cheers, hoots, hollers, and clapping.
Pulling away from the kiss, Alastor leaned his forehead against your's- just a brief sigh of contentment escaping his lips as he stared lovingly into your eyes. You sniffle as you return the smile, chuckling at the sensation of your cheeks feeling sore from smiling so much and so intensely.
"I truly adore you with all my heart and soul, dearest. Thank you, for being the one to complete me."
Tag List:
@mysticwitchcraftco @lil-bexie @lonely-burger @cherry-cola-100 @angelxx7 @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 @avitute @justhellacesome @mcrtrashfan @spookysisters @galaxywing-has-adhd @ggyalruu @trashbin-nie @fudosl @night-shadowblood-writes2 @memospacexx @yuraaahs @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @ghostdoodlen @moschinski @cannibalcoyote @missam @reader3 @yourworstgf @justaproudslytherpuff @milkspong3 @xdolls-crownx @1potato2rulethemall @1rxsemary1 @xxcrispxx @zardward @robin-the-enby @mylenapony11 @silvermoondarksky @bootylimpics @amarokofficial @euphoricaphrodite @blueyobsessedgirly @need-a-therapist @knifukiller @huayan @hwrimonsjer @no1sillybilly @kimmikreates @icarus-has-falllen @watchinthestarz @lady-lik3r @yunxi-11085 @luzzbuzz @tsukilover11 @plntmxrss @houmi @demoarah @papas-ghoulette @trashbin-nie @d-darlingyourbleeding @hallothankmas
1K notes · View notes
pretty-little-mind33 · 8 months
Text
Maroon
James Potter x fem!reader
Summary: James isn't usually violent but he'll fight anyone who bad mouths his girlfriend.
Genre: Fluff, Short-ish? around 1,000 words
Warnings: mentions of a physical violence, descriptions of injuries and blood, insults, swearing, inspired by this picture bc 🥰
Tumblr media
You were surprised when a drunk fifth year boy ran up to you in the middle of your study session with Remus saying your boyfriend had just beaten the shit out of someone at a party you'd asked him not to go to.
It was being hosted by some grimy, good-for-nothing, Slytherins that always found ways to get under James's skin. But, he never listened to you when it came to those things.
You storm into his dorm, eyelids tired from staying up in the library, and Remus follows you. "James Potter!" You exclaim firmly as you look around the room.
Sirius is leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, while James sits on his bed. He's half laying on the headboard as he massages his palms. He's wearing an obnoxious black blazer with thick red lining, dark pants, and a white chemise with a loosened maroon tie. He looks handsome and ridiculous at the same time.
Your eyes lower to his hands and see his knuckles bruised as red as his clothes and when he sees you, he grins drunkenly. "Y/n!" He slurs as he sits up and his brown hair falls dramatically over his forehead.
"What did you do?" You ask, moving to sit next to him on the bed.
"You're so pretty." He mutters and he leans in to cup your cheeks and kisses them sloppily. Sirius chuckles as you push James away.
"You smell like beer."
"Yes, because I drank beer, love."
"What happened?" You ask Sirius this time as James falls back onto the headboard and smirks like an idiot.
Sirius just raises his arms as if he's innocent and drags Remus out of the room with him. As soon as the door closes, James attaches himself to your waist and you sigh. You forget how incredibly clingy he is when he's drunk.
You look at the small bruise on James's cheek as he rests his head near your stomach. You also forget how hot-headed he can be.
James sees you looking and says, "You should see the other guy," as if that makes it better.
"James. What happened." You repeat but find yourself running one of your hands in his hair as he turns onto his back and lays his head in your lap.
"Nothing." He mumbles stubbornly.
You roll your eyes and gently press your thumb onto his bruise and James winces. He shuts his eyes and opens one of them as he looks at your annoyed expression.
"I hate Slytherins." He says plainly.
"James."
"I hate some Slytherins." He mumbles a quick "most" under his breath but you ignore him and simply wait for a better explanation.
"You know the blond one? Weird nose. Punchable face?" He rambles, slurring his words a little, and you nod. "Well he was following me around all night, the little wanker."
"I told you not to go." You point out.
"Being such an annoying little shit. I was already ready to knock him out." He continues and you listen to him as you play with his curls, "And then he mentioned you." James's voice lowers.
"Oh?"
"Yeah." His jaw tightens.
"What did he say about me?" You ask curiously and James looks up at you. Clumsily, he reaches up to caress your cheek and his eyes soften adoringly.
"Don't you worry about that, my darling. I made him regret it." James grins and you feel a warmth spread across your chest.
"You don't have to fight people for me, Jamie." You say softly.
"Of course I do, I — "James drops his hand as his eyes jump around your face. He pauses a moment and he seems to have lost his previous thought, "Merlin, you're so gorgeous."
"Thanks, honey." You whisper and lean down to kiss his forehead, "But James, please be careful if you want to get into fights. I don't want anyone ruining that pretty face of yours." You kiss the tip of his nose.
"I'm always careful, Y/n." James sits up and he looks quite serious, "You should really see the other guy." He insists.
And he's right. The next morning, you and James walk into Transfigurations hand in hand. You had wrapped a small bandage around his knuckles and applied muggle soothing cream on the bruise near his eye.
You like pampering him the muggle way, the way your parents pampered you, and you love that he lets you.
Since James cleaned up nicely, he's grinning cockily and whispers in your ear, "Over there."
You look towards where he means and your eyes widen. A blond Slytherin is glaring at you and James, his fists shaking. He has a black eye, a swollen bruise on his cheekbone, and his lip is split open and barely healed. He obviously hasn't gone to the hospital wing.
"James!" You whisper back to your boyfriend, "How hard did you hit him?"
"Hard enough that your name will never leave his filthy mouth ever again." James says proudly as Remus and Sirius walk towards you both.
"Morning." Remus yawns.
"That piece of shit sure looks handsome this morning." Sirius remarks, slappingJames on the back. James returns the gesture as he laughs.
"Sirius!" You hiss, feeling slightly bad.
James kisses your cheek, "Relax, love. If he snitches I'll have to tell the Headmaster what he called you and I'm bloody persistent when it comes to demanding discipline for tossers like him."
You decide to relax a little.
You've known James and his friends for more than six years now and you've had to grow used to them getting into fights, or simple squabbles, with other students. Plus, you also know James is never violent for no reason. Whatever the Slytherin said must have been bad enough for him to lose his cool.
"My knight in shining armor." You tease and smile at him as he wraps his arm around your shoulders.
"Always." He presses a quick kiss to your lips as Sirius and Remus pretend to gag and you giggle.
3K notes · View notes
9r4v3y4rd · 1 year
Text
.
#I didn’t have any trouble with Prozac today#so I may keep taking it for now unless I notice anymore forgetting what I’m doing when I’m doing it or#having 0 short term memory#as for the Ritalin it’s#actually really good??? and helping me a LOT???#I actually felt… ok? it was almost like I was drunk without feeling dizzy or sick or sleepy? idk how else to explain it#I had less weight on my shoulders I was able to get myself to do stuff I didn’t really want to do#I’m able to focus more clearly on things I’m doing and enjoy things more because I’m able to REALLY pay attention to what I’m doing#bc most of my life has just been in a fog where I’m not even aware of taste or sound all that much so it’s kinda opened me up to#experiencing things for what feels like? the first time? well… without drinking alcohol lmao#but the BEST part?#I just…….. didn’t care about stuff like… at all#I mean I would prefer being able to stop stuff if it’s falling or know when I’ve spilled something on me so I know to change like#it dampened my sense of touch and reaction time a LOT to where I just don’t even feel pain at all anymore?? it’s weird and like#I didn’t feel like I have to keep checking behind me or down hallways or be alert for when someone’s leaving their room?? like I just#existed in the moment? without worry and without feeling scared or like something bad was going to happen to me if I didn’t do some#arbitrary task that shouldn't even matter like#I didnt even care about checking social media. I just existed in the moment and enjoyed what I was doing. Fully focused on what I was doing#but not fully aware of my surroundings… but also very conscious of the passing of time?#I think it’s really helping is what I’m saying#I still stimmed and paced around for 2 straight hours but for the most part#I felt calm#collected#and I’ve never been able to feel that way without alcohol before now bc#I’m so use to feeling extreme tightness in my back to where it’s painful and I’m always tense and always on alert and super jumpy and and#anxious and scared and freaking out and I just… didn’t feel like that today… it was nice :)#but yeah I won’t bother updating again unless I notice any big changes lol#/personal
0 notes
assassinsblade · 3 months
Text
Forget Me Not | 5
It is your turn to experience guilt and regret, while Azriel takes some time to himself.
WC: 4.4k
Warnings: TW: SA, brief mentions of suicidal thoughts/ideations!!! Please do not read if this is triggering for you. Angst, feelings, we are all sad but we are taking a turn for the better!
a/n: All of the comments and responses to Part 4 were seriously incredible. I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday tomorrow if they celebrate!!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6
-------------------------------------
Azriel's shadows surrounded him before he could command them to do anything else. Darkness swallowed his vision, his chest, his heart, gods, he was dying wasn't he? Was this what dying felt like?
He felt like he couldn't breathe. Pain was searing through his chest as if a fiery sword was sticking from his ribcage, and he barely felt his knees crashing to the ground underneath him.
He didn't know where he had subconsciously winnowed to until he heard his brother's voice, filled with shock and confusion.
"Az?"
Hands were pushing his shoulders back, trying to get him to unfold from himself, to stop grasping his chest. His chest, his chest, his chest, it burned-
"Feyre, get Madja."
Azriel tried to shake his head, but he was so dizzy he couldn't tell if he made the movement or not. He vaguely heard Feyre's movements shuffle to a halt. Rhys must have stopped her at his attempt to say no.
"What happened?" Rhys questioned, voice strong despite the panic slowly making its way in.
Azriel was sobbing. He didn't know when he had started, but he knew he had broken. His own chokes and cries echoed in Rhys' office, his tears falling onto the cold marble floor beneath their knees. Pain laced across his skin from his fingernails digging into his own flesh, and he felt Rhys trying to pry the grip away.
"Kill me," Azriel sobbed. "Please, kill me. Do something, just make it stop-"
Rhys dove for his brother at the words, pulling him into a tight hug. The embrace did little to help with the overwhelming torture raging within the shadowsinger. He was going to die, he wanted to die.
He had never hated himself more, hated how it felt like his body was going to eat him alive if he took one more breath.
The constant memories shooting behind his eyes like poison: his mother mistreated by the Illyrian men while his hands burned, Mor left naked and alone in that forest with a sign punctured to her womb and him not arriving until hours into her pain, Rhys walking into a trap because he hadn’t seen it and hadn’t stopped it, Gwyn violated and tortured because he hadn’t been aware enough to spoil the plot or get there soon enough, and then you — your bloody body being carried in Cassian’s arms, clothes torn off, having been forgotten by him.
"Don't you dare say that." The male trying to keep him together spoke with such command, but the shadowsinger's pain persisted.
"I can't do this, Rhys. She-"
He couldn't stop crying, he couldn't stop hurting, he felt like he was screaming...
"Feyre," he heard Rhys call distantly. Everything was blurry, everything was awful. His head was pounding, his body was giving up on him, and then he felt delicate hands on his cheeks, a soothing feminine voice, and then nothing.
As darkness swallowed him whole, he saw only the glinting gold swimming inside his chest, reaching like a rope into darkness.
It was quiet for a bit. Safe, surrounded by nothing but shadows so much like his own, and the small golden light flickering inside of him. He would be content to stay there forever. To no longer live as the monster he’d become, to be able to pretend he was nothing, no one, just a fluid existence stretched through space. Like the embodiment of flying through the skies of Velaris, wings splayed wide and air crisp and free all around.
Unfortunately though, Azriel’s peace was short lived. Before he could truly bask in the quiet, he was being pulled out of his mind and back into the present.
Bright light hit his face, shining through the window of his bedroom at the House of Wind. His shadows immediately swarmed the opening, pulling at the curtains until he was once again draped in darkness.
He sighed and sat up, running his hands down his face. He felt overly fatigued, his entire body weighed down with guilt, self-hatred, and the words you had spoken to him.
He did let everyone he knew down. He already knew that, reminded himself of that every single day, but that didn't make it hurt any less coming from your lips.
Rhys, one of the many people he had failed, had not stopped staring at him. Azriel knew his brother was waiting for him to break the silence.
His voice sounded broken to his own ears, weak and cracking even when spoken in a low volume. “I don’t know what to say.”
He truly didn’t. What should he have said? Hey Rhys, thanks for tucking me in after I had a complete breakdown, you can leave now.
“You can start by explaining why you came to my office and begged me to kill you.”
Yeah, Rhys was not happy.
Azriel sighed, feeling his chest pinch at the memories. He wasn't happy either.
You’re no hero. You’re a joke.
Your hands are the ones hurting me.
That’s all you're good for: inflicting damage.
“Azriel.” Rhys interrupted his thoughts.
He swallowed, feeling himself tear up again. He hadn’t cried this much since Rhys went under the mountain.
“She’s my mate,” he finally spoke, voice quiet and chest cracking open at the confession.
Rhys didn’t even blink. Azriel couldn’t meet his gaze though.
“Who?”
Rhys knew who. Based on Azriel’s reaction to the information alone, he knew.
Azriel didn’t answer the question, knowing it was unnecessary. Instead, he gazed at his scarred hands resting in his lap and said, “I went to train, and she was already in there. The bond snapped before she even turned around.”
“Does she know?”
He shook his head, focusing on the sting in his arm. “She wouldn’t have missed if she did.”
He felt Rhys eyeing the slash against his bicep, already weaving itself back together. Then his friend studied the rest of Azriel's body language. The way his shoulders were curved in on himself, the way his fingers traced over the scars on his hands, the ghostly look in the male's hazel eyes despite them glistening with tears.
"What did she say?" Rhys ended up asking after his silent observations.
"Enough."
His brother didn't let Azriel brush him off though. "Whatever she said, she didn't mean it, Az."
Azriel scoffed. "Look into my mind, see how she looked at me, and then you try to tell me she didn't mean it."
"She is angry and grieving, and you are the only person available that she can blame and take it out on. Her anger," Rhys suddenly grabbed Azriel's arm, positioning it so he could nod to the reddened gash, "that anger, is because she cares. She's hurt because she loves you."
Azriel shook his arm out of his friend's grip. "It doesn't matter. I fucked up, and I can't take that back. The damage has been done, Rhys."
"I used to think that too." Violet eyes met his. "Feyre hated me, in case you forgot."
Azriel didn't budge, so Rhys continued. "I know what you're feeling right now. That it'd be alright if she hated you, as long as she's safe. But it still hurts, knowing she thinks poorly of you, and that feeling builds up. But your journey with her is not over. She is a forgiving person, you just need to give her grace while she heals. And you need to give yourself grace, because you're in a painful position too."
He nodded, letting a few tears fall. His palm automatically reached for his chest, rubbing it in an effort to soothe the ache there.
“How did you do it? How did you live with it hurting this bad? After Feyre said…”
Rhys sighed, letting out a small breathy laugh — a genuine one. “It wasn’t easy. I left for those days before Starfall, ignored her letters, sorted out my thoughts. Came to the conclusion that even if Feyre never loved me, I would always love her and I’d be happy to do so. And I have a family who I love dearly, who also loves me.”
The pointed look he gave Azriel was obvious, reminding him that his family was there and worried about him too. They had seen the way he’d turned into a shell of himself, barely sleeping in case you had a nightmare and needed him, barely eating or training, his entire reserve of energy being put into monitoring your safety and wellbeing. And he knew they cared, he really did.
Cassian had been trying to get Azriel back into the swing of training again, wanting him to express some of his heavy emotions in the ring, or at least talk to his brother while sparring and practicing. Instead, Azriel was seclusive and pulled the punches he threw the Illyrian’s way.
Rhys had given Azriel time off from his missions, delegating the work to those under the spymaster to take some weight off of Azriel’s shoulders for a bit. Azriel had at first refused but had given in when Rhys had pointed out that time and attention needed to be focused at home anyway, what with the Illyrians’ growing mistrust of Cassian, Azriel, and himself, the threat of an uprising ever present.
But now with what you had said…
“I think it’d be best if I went away for a bit.” His voice was quiet, resigned, lifeless to his own ears.
“By yourself?” Rhys asked, clearly not liking the idea.
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Just — I think some space from her would be good. You even said you needed that when Feyre had hurt you.”
His brother’s violet eyes softened with understanding. “You’re right. I did. But I do think this is a bit more complex. What if you went with Amren or Mor to see Jurian and Lucien? See what they have been up to for a bit? You can leave some of the work to them, but have something to distract you should you need it.”
Azriel was quiet as he considered, but Rhys cut in before he could agree too soon. “But you come back. And you come back within the month.”
Azriel nodded. “Okay,” he relented.
“Okay,” Rhys repeated. His hand clasped Azriel’s shoulder in support, giving his brother a meaningful look. “I know I sound like an asshole, but it will work out. I know it. You two are too special, in general and to each other for this not to work out.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shut out the pain that came with his brother’s words.
He swallowed, composing himself before meeting his friend’s gaze with teary eyes of his own. “Tell Mor I’ll meet her on the border in an hour.”
-------------------------------------
You skipped training the next night, too emotionally drained to make it out of your room. Cassian hadn't come to find you, either. Maybe he had even heard of your argument with Azriel.
Instead of going to the training ring, you tried to read your books (pushing away the reminder that Azriel had gotten them for you), took some long baths, tried to write, and listened to music.
Nothing kept your mind distracted from what you had said to Azriel, though.
The instant relief that had coursed through your veins when the anger had seeped into the air, draining from where it had hardened in your chest and allowing you to feel lighter, changed over the course of the day into something just as volatile.
You felt guilty. So, insanely guilty.
You kept remembering the look on his face when you had mentioned Mor, Rhys, Gwyn, his mother…
The way his hands clenched and fiddled with themselves when you had told him you see them hurting you in your dreams.
The tears that streaked down his cheeks silently as you just kept on coming and coming, attacking and attacking.
And he had let you. He had stood there possibly from shock, guilt, care, and just let you tear into him without any retaliation.
You had never uttered words so cruel to someone.
And you hadn’t even meant them.
Sure, you had been so angry at him. You had felt so hurt and demeaned, that you wanted to do the same to him. But did you actually blame him for what had happened to his friends? Did he hold the responsibility for the entire world in his scarred hands?
Of course not. But you knew that he thought so. And you had used that against him.
Azriel had never meant for you to get hurt. You, on the other hand, had intentionally hurt him.
Did that not make you so much worse?
You cried yourself to sleep that next night, your actions sending you into a downward spiral of shame. Despite taking the tonic Madja had provided you for sleeping, you found yourself at the mercy of your guilt, your mind tormenting you with Azriel’s hurt and your own mistakes.
If you had known this dream would have taken a turn for the worse, creating a scenario that would haunt you even more than the memories of that night, you never would have closed your eyes.
It had started the same as the others: the snow, the alleyway, the blonde-haired male licking up your neck and reaching for your middle. This time though, when you brought the dagger down into the male’s neck, a familiar choking sound echoed into your ear.
Azriel.
The same noise that had escaped his lips after your weaponized words stabbed into him.
Then his hazel eyes met yours, the snow falling from Velaris’ night sky dusting his black hair. And there was so much pain, hurt, and betrayal in his gold and green irises that you felt sick.
“No-” you panicked, reaching out for him as the bright red blood poured down his neck and over your hands.
No, no, no. Not him. How could you have done this? You were hurting him, you were killing him.
Your hands moved quickly, pushing against the wound as sobs loudly slipped past your lips. "Azriel-" you started to say.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. His eyes tried to get your attention, but he was already weak, slipping through your hands and falling onto the pavement below.
When the dagger fell from his neck, you saw the charcoal-colored aggressive waves adorning the top of the hilt and nearly collapsed.
You had killed Azriel with his own weapon. The weapon he had lent to help you, you had taken and stabbed him in return. His support, his offer to make amends, his kind-hearted generosity toward you, turned around to tear into his lifeline.
You killed him.
And hurting him did not feel as good as you had imagined in that training ring, both then and now, snow falling onto his tan skin in the alleyway.
As you stared into his empty eyes, somehow still sparkling with the stars of Velaris, you couldn’t help but scream.
Waking from the nightmare was nearly as difficult as wading through it in your sleep. Your ears were ringing, throat sore, and mouth dry. You were so nauseous, your stomach gurgled as if it was warning you its contents could come up at any time.
You didn’t go to the library to read or run yourself another bath in an attempt to relax. Instead, you found yourself throwing the blankets off of yourself, still trying to catch your breath, and making your way hastily to Azriel’s door.
It seemed so similar to that first week after the assault, when you had sought out Cassian before relying on Azriel for a night. Only this time, as you stumbled through the hall, your only thought was on passing Cassian’s door and finding yourself in front of Azriel’s.
You felt so scared, so anxious, and for the first time in months it wasn’t for your own safety.
Your heart pounded in your chest as your toes padded down the cold floor. But it completely stopped when you noticed the difference in the House of Wind.
Azriel’s door, always left cracked with the light on since your first nightmare after the incident, was now closed, with nothing but black on the other side.
You nearly caved into yourself.
Who could blame him? You had been a terrible person. And despite what he had done to you, it was understandable if he never wanted to see or talk to you again.
Just the thought of him being in pain because of you behind that door…
You hesitantly stepped closer, bringing your fist up to the wood.
“I’m sorry,” he had whispered in your dream.
You knocked softly, waiting a few moments before calling out his name. When no response came, you couldn’t help the anxiety that coursed through you, bringing scared tears to your eyes.
Shaking on your toes a bit, you knocked again. Blood flashed across your mind, his lifeless eyes, his look of betrayal.
"Please," you whispered, calling out to him gently.
But you couldn't wait any longer. Your hands slowly twisted the doorknob, your mind not even thinking of the consequences of entering a spymaster's room unsolicited.
You would just see that he was alright and safe, and then you would go back to your room. Plus, his shadows would let him know you were entering, they would warn him of your presence and could push you out if need be.
At this thought, you suddenly noticed the lone shadow that had trailed you for months was no longer at your side. The darkness behind his door swallowed you whole at the realization. He was gone, done, and you along with him.
You spiraled further, pushing into the room and daring to look around.
It was empty. Darkness shaded the clean room, but there was no shadowsinger, no living presence occupying the space.
Was he on a mission? Did he leave without telling anyone?
His choking noise permeated through your mind again, and you found yourself becoming dizzy with panic and anxiety, the guilt and regret spreading so far into your gut you were sure it was physically damaging you.
Stumbling over to his bed, you collapsed onto it, first sitting before bringing your knees up to your chest and allowing yourself to seek out his warmth and scent in the duvet and sheets. He was okay, you told yourself. He was always okay.
But the lack of your shadow friend spoke volumes. He was done with you. Done trying to prove himself, done trying to be your friend. And it hurt just as bad now when he actively decided to leave you compared to when he did it unintentionally.
Because despite it all, you did love him. You had just become so hurt and destructive that you ruined yourself further in the process, striking out at him as collateral.
You buried yourself deeper into his covers, not even caring when your tears soaked into his pillow. And maybe you imagined the footsteps you heard outside Azriel’s door, the way Cassian’s door had opened and closed and a presence had hesitated outside of the shadowsinger’s room as if they were listening and contemplating.
You surely imagined Azriel coming home and allowing you to speak with him, and in these hopes you understood how he felt this whole time. The silence, the darkness, the guilt and self-hatred. And the never-ending fear that you had done something you could never repair. That you weren’t good enough or redeemable enough to repair.
The last image that crossed through your mind before your swollen eyes succumbed to sleep was Azriel’s face when he had seen you that first day in the kitchen with Rhys. His nervous and devastated but hopeful expression.
You hated yourself.
-------------------------------------
In the morning, Feyre paid you a visit.
She did not comment on you leaving Azriel’s room, but the look she gave you was observant.
The conversation had started out small with her asking how you were doing, checking in on your training progress, if you had been reading anything good lately, if you had tried the meal Cassian made last night for dinner.
Then it was silent, and she hesitated before steeling herself like the High Lady she was.
“Azriel left the other night. Whatever you had said to him, whatever had happened two nights ago, I’m not sure he deserved it.”
You didn’t want to ask about the state she had seen him in. You didn’t want to know how deep the damage you had dealt went, because if you pictured his hurt expression one more time, you thought you might actually shatter.
You stared down at your hands in disappointment and shame, gritting your teeth to stop yourself from crying. You weren’t the victim this time around; you didn’t deserve to cry. And your eyes hurt so bad from crying so much.
“I think you two should talk. Your relationship has become so destructive I’m not sure either of you will come out at the end. Talk.” She demanded, her voice firm.
You nodded in agreement, swallowing the lump in your throat down before asking what you had been wondering since last night. “Where did he go?”
“To the mortal lands with Mor. He needed some time.”
Of course. Of course he needed time, and you would give him that. But you needed him to know that you were at least sorry, because you had no idea when he would be ready to return.
“If I were to give you a letter for him, would you make sure he receives it?”
Feyre sighed, thinking about the consequences of the action, before finally softening and nodding. She understood the need to reach out after such an incident, and you noticed her eyes flicker as she doubtlessly thought back to when Rhys left for a bit before Starfall and ignored her own letters.
“Sure. But you must be kind.”
You nodded again, that pang of disappointment and shame flaring to life again in your chest, and you thought of all the things you needed and wanted to say to Azriel.
But when you actually went to put pen to paper later that night, you found yourself second-guessing everything.
You had gone too far in punishing him — for something he was not even completely to blame for — and he probably didn’t want to hear from you. You should let him breathe, give him time to think and unwind without your existence constantly ruining him.
But then you thought of him standing in the training ring, hurt, crying, alone, and your hands were moving.
Azriel, you started the letter. I know you probably don’t want to hear from me, but I think I would regret not sending this to you, not telling you everything you deserve to hear. And I don’t want to regret anything else.
First, I need to apologize. Profusely. You don’t need to forgive me or give me another second of your time, but I am begging you to know and understand that I did not mean a word I said the other night. I could name a thousand reasons why the words went past my lips, but they will never unspeak them. I will forever regret that night, more than any other night in my life.
Please know that even in the times when I am carried away by anger, when I am less than human, less than any of you deserve, I have always admired you. Sometimes I think that made the anger worse, twining together with the care I have for you until it became some kind of warped emotional weapon.
I do think you are a hero. And redeemable and brave and a savior. And I’m sorry for ever trying to put in your mind that you are anything but. You have saved me more times than I could mention in the size of this letter, just in the time I have known you. Please know that.
I have no right to ask, not after everything we have gone through the last few months, but when you are ready, I would really like to sit down and speak with you. About everything.
Maybe we can find a way forward. Or at least a way to exist together without any pain.
You don’t need to respond. I will be here, and I can wait as you’ve waited for me to be ready to talk.
Be safe. If not for me then for yourself and your family.
Then you stopped. Because how were you supposed to sign this off? You pictured his frown at reading the letter, at your words he no longer trusted or felt warmth from. You hated that frown, the sadness you had seen from him so much as of late.
In the meantime, you wrote, I will read the books you left me, continue to purchase those tart pastries from near the Rainbow, and find comfort in your bedroom light remaining on, if not just to remind me of your kindness.
I appreciate your help, even when you are not near. And then you signed your name.
You would wait for his response (or lack of) and for his return. And then you would have the chance to talk. You would be able to hear his own thoughts, emotions, apologies, and curses before letting out your own.
Strength was what you needed until then. The strength to self-reflect on the blame you had placed on him, the words you had thrown around so carelessly. Strength that would get you through the oncoming storm, the marching warriors coming for Cassian, Azriel, and Rhys. The Illyrians wishing to overthrow the high lord and his enforcers, coming to take them down in any way they could.
Their marching was coming, the stomps matching the pounding in your chest.
You’d be strong, and you would wait for him to return. You would hold your ground, dagger at your side and heart hesitantly ready to be displayed.
And maybe, if all went in your favor, you two could finally have that talk.
1K notes · View notes
ja3yun · 3 months
Text
Stitch Me Up | L.HS
Tumblr media
underground fighter!heeseung x nurse!reader
warnings: smut (mdni), ex heeseung, unprotected sex, cream pie, weapon and blood mention, if i missed anything lmk!
wc: 4.5k+
synopsis: after a tough shift in the hospital all you wanted was to rid yourself of the tension and your ex turns up just in time
a/n: hi! hope you're all doing well. a quick one shot from me so i hope you like it. not much to say on this one <3 ilysm
Dragging your feet behind you, you unlock your door. Everything that went wrong today could have gone wrong; first, you caught your fingers in the mobile hoist, a patient spat in your face, and you spent the last 30 minutes of your shift cleaning shit from the toilets.
No one ever said being a nurse was a glamorous job, but on days like these, you wish you picked something a little more dignifying. 
You kick your shoes off and head to your bedroom to grab some pajamas. Every bit of you is emotionally and physically drained, this past month has been exhausting. Working 70-hour weeks and being underpaid for it was starting to take its toll on your fragile body.
Nights like these you miss Heeseung, you shouldn’t but you do. 
Picking up scattered clothes that made a mess of your bedroom floor, you groan when your lower back aches. Someone in their 20s shouldn’t be in this much pain. They should be living their best life, staying up late, going out at the weekend, and having a healthy social life. 
You love your job, it’s rewarding and you love to take care of people. Seeing people who are in your ward get better makes your heart feel full like your life is actually worth something and doing some good in this shitty world.
You used to have balance. Heeseung was your balance. 
Sifting through your drawers you find some pink shorts with white love hearts and a cropped white tank top. Usually, you would settle for a set of sweats and a baggy t-shirt but after practically spending 3 days straight in unflattering scrubs you wanted something pretty.
When you walk you can feel the pain in your feet, and blisters start to form. You needed this shower asap. Luckily the bathroom is less than 5 steps away from your bedroom door so you can keep your hobbling to a minimum. The shower is so enticing as you switch the button on and set the temperature just right, or in your case, scolding hot.
A roasting hot shower is what you need to forget today. You need Heeseung’s hands to melt away the pain.
You miss him.
Heeseung and you have been broken up for precisely 1 month and 13 days. For some reason today you can’t shake him off your mind. 
The water cascades down your skin, tiny droplets sit on your face as you wash your hair. The smell of coconut fills the tiny box bathroom and for the first time today, you feel content.
After you rinse the conditioner from your hair and wash your body with a matching scented soap, you pull the shower curtain back and step out carefully - the last thing you need is to fall and break a bone.
Wiping the mirror to rid it of the steam you stare at yourself. The dark circles under your eyes and the redness of your cheeks showcase just how tired your body is. Nothing an overpriced and overrated skincare routine can’t fix. You grab the cleanser and start your regime. It reminds you of him, how he used to always help you, the pads of his fingers gently rubbing the product into your skin, and when he had any left over he would use it on himself. He looked so cute and sweet during those times.
What is with you today? Why do you keep thinking about him?
Quickly, you dry your hair and body with the towel and get ready for bed. Typically, you would sit up and watch an episode or two of Brooklyn 99 but honestly, you’re too burnt out to enjoy it.
As you leave the bathroom there is a knock at the door and you freeze on sight. It’s late and none of your friends would come over, so your brain goes into panic mode. Being a girl alone in her flat was scary enough these days never mind taking in the factor of the time. All the lights are off so hopefully if you just stay still, they’ll leave.
Another knock.
Grabbing a coat hanger from the clothesline in the bathroom you arm yourself with it, it would do enough damage to the person on the other side of the door if you had to escape. 
So you couldn’t second guess yourself, you briskly tiptoed to the door and swung it open, hanger tightly in your grip ready to swing.
The figure turns around and jumps, backing up when they see the coathanger ready to be lobbed at their face.
“Woah, Y/N. It’s just me.” He puts his hands in front of him in defense.
Heeseung.
You breathe out and relax, dropping your arms to your side. Although your exterior seems to have gotten over the fright, your heart is thumping still. That could be because when you look him in the eyes finally you register who he is.
“Heeseung it’s past midnight, what are you doing here?” 
He steps forward and you see his face battered and bruised, his lip has been bust open and a black eye forming on the left side of his face, he was a mess. There have been countless times he’s looked like this, it’s how you two met.
A year ago there was a knock on your door, not unlike tonight, except that time your friend Jongseong was carrying a half-to-life version of Heeseung. The boy couldn’t stand on his own two feet.
“Y/N, sorry, I didn’t know where to go, he didn’t want to go to the hospital,” Jongseong explained, although it didn’t clear anything up.
“What the fuck, Jongie, who is this?” You grab the other side of the spent boy and sit him down on the couch, “What happened to him?” Looking at the guy in front of you, you see the blood on his t-shirt, slash marks on his arms, and his face is blown out.
Jongseong rushes to get the first aid kit from your bathroom, “He was fighting tonight and some arsehole pulled a knife on him, and got him in the stomach a few times,” You lift the fabric covering his torso and see wounds bleeding, “I tried to pull him out of the fight but he wasn’t having it.”
You don’t know a lot about Jongseong’s work life, all you know is that by day he’s a simple office body, filling, paperwork, a pen pusher of sorts. But when night came he was an underground fighter, all of it illegal, but he fell into it with some guys at the gym. From what you hear he is pretty good at it.
“Heeseung, buddy?” Jongseong slaps the boy's face a few times, “Stay awake, this is Y/N, she’s a nurse.” So his name was Heeseung.
“Jongie, these are pretty serious, he needs to go to the hospital.”
“No hospital.” Heeseung coughs out. You suppose if you take him to A&E how could any of them explain what happened? 
You rub his legs to soothe him, “Okay, no hospital.” 
That night you stitched his wounds and cleaned him up. Obviously, he survived, and you took him in like an injured winged bird. Let him stay at yours for 2 weeks, and by the time he was ready to fly away back into the world, you wanted him to stay forever.
You look him up and down to take in his outfit, he wasn’t wearing sweats so this wasn’t a scheduled fight, instead, he was clad in jeans, a White Stripes t-shirt, and a loose-fitting leather jacket, “What the fuck happened, Heeseung?” 
“Is it lame if I say you should see the other guy?” He laughs but nothing is funny. 
Stepping aside you let him into your flat which he does like second nature, his shoes left exactly where they used to go, “Heeseung you can’t just come here looking like this and not tell me what happened.” On autopilot, you go to get the first aid kit.
He takes a seat on your kitchen counter and looks around, “Nothing much happened, some guys being dicks.” 
You come back from the bathroom and see him atop your kitchen, “Eh, get down from there. Now.” He always perched himself on anything but a seat. It didn’t bother you too much but right now after your shift, you couldn’t be arsed to pander to it, “Try and treat my place with a bit of respect please.”
Heeseung jumps off and walks to take a seat on the edge of your couch. It might be wrong of you to think it but he does look beautiful like this. You blame Leon Kennedy in Resident Evil for your attraction to busted up men.
As you open the first aid kit you feel his eyes on you, “Why did you come here, Heeseung? You could have treated this yourself.”
“I missed you.” He confesses and it’s true he did miss you. 
For the past month he’s been throwing himself into fights he knows he won’t win just to feel something other than heartache. In spite of his cold attitude and reckless behaviour, he held your love so gently in his heart that he couldn’t even act tough around you. From the first day he laid eyes on you, he knew you had to be his, and if that meant opening up his heart, that’s what he did. 
A first he thought it was because you were fixing his wounds and he owed you something but that thought quickly vanished when you fixed more than that. 
“Heeseung, we broke up. It’s done.” You say coldly. With the thoughts of missing him earlier still fresh in your brain, you had to nip this in the bud.
When you broke up with Heeseung it wasn’t exactly because you wanted to, it was to protect yourself. His lifestyle and yours don’t mix, he was always getting into trouble and you were trying to avoid it at all costs. But more importantly than that, you couldn’t see the man you love come home every night exactly how he is now, broken and beaten. 
The deeper into the fight circuit Heeseung got, the more dangerous it was. People were pulling knives, guns, and bringing back up, all for the sake of making sure their bosses won the bets. Your ex-boyfriend was a great fighter - or so you’ve heard, he never let you come to any of the fights - but these other guys played dirty and it was a threat to his life. 
So when you asked him to stop and he said no, you did what you had to and called it off. You lost sleep, precious never to be taken for granted sleep, every night he fought and it was taking its toll on you. You tried to compromise with him and pleaded with him to go back to the regulated (if you could even call them that) fights, the ones where the stakes are lower.
However, Heeseung was above that now, too much of a hot commodity. 
“Baby, I’m making us enough money so you don’t have to do so much overtime.”
“Seungie, I’m a nurse, all we do is overtime. Plus, this shouldn’t be about the money, it’s about your safety.” Your voice is cracking with every sentence you have uttered tonight, but he still won’t listen, “I’m not asking you to give it up, but please stop taking these high-stakes fights, you’re going to get killed.”
Heeseung scoffs and places a hand on your shoulder, “I won’t die, I’ve got you to stitch me up.”
“No, Seungie, you don’t. I can’t do this anymore.”
It was a brutal way to end it, none of you walked into that conversation expecting that outcome, but for you, it was the only thing you could do.
Soaking a cotton pad with some anti-septic, you place it gently on his lip, a hiss from him following your action, “Sorry.” You whisper. A sorry for the pain but also for breaking up with him. No matter how much you knew it was right for you, you knew it was hard on him. Opening himself up to love you wasn’t easy for Heeseung.
“I’m used to it, baby.” Your heart cries as he calls you baby, it always sounded so perfect coming from him.
“What did the guys do?” You ask and he looks at you with those beautiful eyes, masked behind purple and blue, “You said guys were being dicks, so what did they do?”
He didn’t want to waste energy on it, the fight being over in a flash anyway, “Just stuff. They got a jump on me hence the mess.” He moves his hand to gesture to his face but while his hand is already there, it engulfs yours, the one that’s cleaning the blood from his mouth, “Baby, I didn’t start it.”
“I know, Seungie.” You feel yourself falling back into how it used to be, his thumb running circles into your hand. 
Once you finish up, you place a skin closure strip on his mouth, your thumb rubbing gently to secure it in place. He takes the opportunity to take your thumb into his mouth and you nearly moan at the intimate act. 
But this isn’t how it is now.
“Heeseung.” You warn him. 
He releases your thumb and sighs, “Habit.” He was a man of few words, you knew that, so there was no need to say anything more.
“You should go. Keep it clean, and put some ointment on that black eye.”
“I miss you so fucking much, Y/N.” Ignoring him, you walk into the bathroom to return the first aid kit, “Don’t you miss me?”
It almost makes you laugh. You missed him more than anything, so much so that after the shitshow that was today all you could think about was him. All you wanted was for him to wrap you in his arms and tell you everything is fine, but that is a wish that can’t be a reality anymore. 
“It’s not about missing you Heese-”
“I’ll quit.” 
You turn the bathroom light off and brush past him, “No, you won’t. We both know it so don’t lie to me, don’t start that now.” 
Heeseung is a beat behind you when you walk into your bedroom, “Y/N, believe me.” He knew you didn’t need to believe him, there wasn’t even a reason to believe him because he had said this before. But this time is different, “If you just listen to me,”
“No, I don’t think I will.” The stare you have on him is angry, “I offered you a solution for all of this, and honestly? I am so tired of this conversation now. I need you to go.”
Hurt flickers in his eyes, “Baby, I’m miserable without you.”
Agitation builds up inside you. He’s acting like this is solely your fault, like you were the one that caused all this. Granted, you broke up with him but it was after giving him every solution to stop it, “This is not my doing, Seungie, okay?” He wants to retaliate but you snip in before he gets the chance, “You love fighting those losers more than you ever did me, you made that clear.”
He sees red at your allegation. How dare you even think for a second you weren’t his number one. Sure, he didn’t want to give up fighting, it was who he was, but he also didn’t want to lose you, he sees that now. He has to prove to you just how much you mean to him.
Heeseung takes two long strides to you and kisses you hungrily. It’s been so long since he felt your lips in his. The stinging from his wound is dull compared to how he feels to have you like this again, he has a whole month of kisses and fucking to catch up on and nothing will stop him.
“I love you so much don’t you dare fucking say that.” It was a rarity for him to say that he loves you out loud. You knew he did, it was his actions that showed his love more than words, but hearing it made your eyes well with tears. Because he didn’t say it much, you cherished every single time he did.
You fall onto the bed behind you, his weight crashing onto you as you both lose yourselves in the kiss, all that anger and hurt dissipated each of his kisses.
Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you try and deepen the kiss but he pulls away. He takes off his jacket and t-shirt and that’s when you see the bruises dispersed along his chest and torso. This fight must have been a lot more brutal than he let on. 
Sitting up you kiss each bruise while he straddles your lap, gently showing love for each one. The nurse in you wants to tend to them right away, they really did a number on his stomach and you’re slightly concerned about the damage done to his insides. But right now all he needs is a few kisses to make it better.
“They don’t hurt, promise.” He assures you, but if you kiss him too hard, which isn’t hard at all, he winces. To fixate on something other than the pain he whips off your tank top and just the sight of your breasts has him feeling a-okay, “Missed you so much.”
You could laugh at his obvious ogling but with your burnt out body and his just the same, you just needed to feel him, “Seungie, please,” You whine into his right peck as you kiss him over his darkest bruise again.
Heeseung understands your pleas and pushes you flat against the bed before undoing his jeans and not so gracefully kicking them off, “What do you want, baby? I’ll do it all.” 
To quit fighting. That’s what you want to say, but you can’t risk the idea of an argument, not when you’re so close to having him inside you again, “Fuck me, Heeseung. Please.”
This is all he’s been dreaming about since you told him to go. Your love wasn’t the only thing he craved. 
Dipping his head down to yours he kisses you again, his hands dipping into your cute pajama shorts to pull them down, “Can I eat your pussy baby?”
You would love nothing more than to feel his tongue all over you but you are truly exhausted, “I have had such a hard shift Seungie, just need your cock to make me feel better.” You’re lifting your hips into his as you say this, staring into his eyes to let him know he has to do this soon or you’ll crash.
“Okay, baby.” He brings two of his fingers to your folds to assess how easy you could take him. You’re wet but you could be wetter for him. Heeseung is an average size but if you’ve been without sex for a month like he had hoped you’d need a little more. 
He clambers over you to reach the top drawer and grab some lube. His cock is basically in your face so who were you to not have a taste of it? You sit up on your elbows and your mouth engulfs his member. He's so shocked by the sudden action he nearly drops the bottle, “Shit, baby.” His free hand finds its way into your hair as you bob up and down his shaft, “Missed that mouth of yours.” He breathes out, “Missed it sucking me off, missed it saying my name, fuck I even missed it bossing me around.” 
Pulling back you look at him with an unamused look but he uses it as an excuse to kiss you once again. 
Slithering down to his previous position he coats his cock with some of the lube, sparing some for your hole, slipping a finger into you to slick your inner walls with it. You turn into a moaning mess as you feel his fingers for the first time in so long, your hips involuntarily buck up.
“I’ll only be a minute, baby.” Once he feels satisfied you won’t feel any pain, he slides his finger out and rubs the head of his cock on your pussy. He isn’t even teasing you but you feel like he is with how long he is taking.
Abruptly, he pushes into your heat, the feeling of you around him makes his head spin. No one will ever feel as good as you, that’s why he’s willing to do anything to have you, “So good,” he exhales, “So fucking good, baby.” Bottoming out, he can’t stop a loud groan from erupting out his mouth. You’ve missed the sound so much.
He starts to thrust into you at a fast pace once he knows your walls have settled, each hit making the room fill with sounds of skin slapping and curses. With the way he’s fucking you, you would think you hadn’t seen each other in years, but he craves you so much that even one day without the option of you around his cock was unbearable. 
“Shit, Seungie please go faster.” He listens to you and picks up the pace, knowing how tired you are he needs to get you off quickly. 
Between your thighs, his hand finds your clit as he starts to rub it harshly. You look unreal right now, with your mouth open and head thrown back into the mattress.
Lifting your right leg over your shoulder he reaches a deeper spot, his cock pounding into you with ferocity it makes you squeeze around him, “Oh fuck, baby, do that again.” You squeeze his shaft with your walls again, “Fucking pussy feels like heaven.” He whispers to himself.
His hips keep a harsh rhythm, the sharpness of each thrust sending you more and more over the edge, “Close.” Is all you say.
“Yeah? Gonna cum for me, baby?” he smirks, happy knowing that he’s about to feel your ecstasy around him, “Cum for me, Y/N.”
And just like that your pussy comes undone on his dick that is still mercilessly pummeling into you. A loud mewl draws out your mouth and your hands grab onto the duvet under you, he’s making you feel bliss right now. 
Heeseung can feel himself getting closer and if he wants full satisfaction he needs to cum now while your walls are contracting thoughtlessly, he needs you to milk his cock dry.
Feeling him lose his rhythm a little you know he just needs a little something to bring him over the edge, “Seungie, need your cum so bad.” He loved it when you begged for his seed.
“Yeah? How bad?”
“I’m starving for it.”
The last few words have his hips stuttering and ropes of his cum shooting into you, filling you up just how you like it.
You’ve finally regained composure from your own high and just in time to see his slack jaw and eyes screwed shut. He was one of the few people that looked good when they orgasmed and you loved when you got to see him in all his glory.
Heeseung falls onto you briefly to catch his breath, the pain from his stomach coming back slowly but that doesn’t matter right now, “Let me clean you up.” He slides out of you and goes to get supplies to look after you.
Because your job requires you to look after everyone around you, it was nice how Heeseung would do aftercare so well, making sure you’re okay.
He takes a while but as he comes back he’s holding a damp cloth and bottle of water in one hand and a cup of tea in the other, “Sit up for me baby.” 
After placing the tea and water on the bedside table he starts to run the cloth along your sensitve area. He loved to see you full of his cum, every time the white substance would leak from you he felt a bit of pride so washing it away like this was mourningful.
“I have quit.” He says lowly, “Fighting, I mean. I quit this morning.”
“But you only said you would quit earlier?” You question, recalling the previous conversation.
“I wanted to see if you would believe me.”
You’re dubious, not understanding what he’s saying, “You can’t just quit like that, Seungie. You told me it wasn’t that easy.” 
And it wasn’t. It’s not like you can hand in a two week notice and call it a day, there are too many stakeholders involved, too much money being thrown around to just up and off.
“Yeah, you can see it wasn’t so painless.” He finishes cleaning you off and goes to place the rag in the washing basket.
“What do you mean?” As he walks into the room you see his bruises again and it all hits you at once, “The guys being dicks…”
Heeseung nods and jumps back into his boxers but not anything else with the hopes you want him to stay, “Told them I wasn’t doing it anymore and next thing I know I’m on the floor.” He laughs embarrassed at the memory.
This was technically your fault, you asked him to stop the high stake fights and this is what happened. 
Seeing your face, Heeseung sits on the bed next to you and cups your cheek, “Hey, no, I know what you’re thinking but you didn’t make me quit. I chose too. This is my doing”
“But I asked you to.” You look down and trace over his bruises lightly.
“Yeah, but I said no at first.” His hand runs into your damp hair, “I decided to quit this morning because losing you isn’t worth it. I meant it when I said i’m fucking miserable.” 
Sighing you fear this happiness in your chest is going to disappear at any moment, “It’s what you love though, Seungie.”
“I love you.” He hates that you have this preconceived notion that somehow he loves fighting more than you, “And I know I should have said it more when we were together but, baby, give me another chance so I can keep saying it.” 
You want to cry again, “Have you actually quit? No more fights?”
He places his hand on his heart, “I quit, promise. The only fights now will be with guys who stare at you too long.” 
Laughing, you remember a time he clocked two guys out for even offering you a drink. Heeseung has always been protective of you, that’s why you missed him so much today. Coming home after a grueling shift made you want nothing more than for him to hold you.
He’s offering you that chance again and you can’t turn it down, “I love you, Heeseung.”
“Fuck, baby, I love you too.” His lips are on yours again as he pours his love into you, his devotion.
Heeseung wasn’t letting you go again. Not for any fight in the world.
2K notes · View notes
kaizokuniichan · 7 months
Text
What You Want
Roronoa Zoro x AFAB reader
Summary: You have a tendency to slip into Zoro’s bed every time you drink. For some reason he lets you keep on doing it
This is the absolute longest fic I’ve ever written in my life. I don’t know how it happened, I just let my hand take the lead. Apologies for any weird formatting, I was forced to write this on my phone.
Warnings: alcohol use, unprotected vaginal sex, oral, light choking, slight degradation, use of “good girl”, nipple play
Word Count: 5.6k (😰)
MDNI; 20+ readers please
(Divider by @cafekitsune )
Tumblr media
Sometimes you had this nasty habit of slipping into Zoro’s bed when you drank. You didn’t know why, it was just something you did.
The first time it happened you’d been so inebriated that your stumbling around had resulted in you tripping over a pair of boots, scrabbling onto the bed to break your fall, and flopping unceremoniously onto his legs. He startled awake and attempted to shove you off but your drunken delirium insisted that you were in your room and you had every right to be there. Exasperated, he rolled you off his knees and you eventually passed out by his ankles.
A mumbled apology came the next day during breakfast which he wordlessly waved off. After quickly gulping down his food, he grabbed his katanas and headed out the door. No other exchange about the matter was made.
The first time you slipped under the duvet, the dip of the mattress was what pulled him from his slumber. It was just enough for him to see you at the furthest edge of the bed, your head flopping onto the pillow and your soft snores soon following. You’d only slept for maybe 2 hours before you jerked awake, realizing where you’d mistakenly wound up again. You quickly gathered your shoes and pants that had been haphazardly discarded, and snuck out of the room.
The first time your bodies made contact, your back had been pressed against his. He hadn’t actually been sleeping much that night; you were unaware of his watchful eye as he looked over his shoulder at you. Subconsciously you knew something was different (still convinced you were in your own bed), a comforting wall of warmth bleeding in through the thin cotton of your tank top. He rolled his head back to face his side, eye growing heavier as he finally succumbed to sleep. When he woke a few hours later your spot was empty and cool, rumpled sheets slightly flipped back being the only indication that you’d been there.
A new thing started happening where you faced your front to him, inching closer to his bulky form. You’d ungracefully throw an arm over his waist, hot and clammy palm spreading over his abs. Sometimes, you’d swear a larger hand covered yours with a quick squeeze. But the thought never registered for longer than a second, sweet unconsciousness beckoning you soon after. Those nights his curiosity got the better of him, and he wondered what you looked like up close while you slept. As he turned under the weight of your arm still flung over him, he was met with your face half stuffed into the pillow, mouth open with a thin layer of drool dampening the pillowcase. As he adjusted himself to lay on his stomach, your body stirred and one of your eyes cracked open to stare back at him. He’d thought your focus would be foggy but you looked deep into him, down to his very bones. You held his gaze for what felt like hours under the calm nothingness that only existed during a night faring the seas, before you promptly sat up and hastened to exit the room as you always did; this time forgetting to grab the shorts and bra you’d carelessly tossed.
You knew he was aware of what you were doing but for some reason you couldn’t stop it from happening, and he wouldn’t stop you from doing it. You rationalized that the only reason he allowed it to continue was because he was just as intoxicated, sake vapors always permeating his clothes. It remained an unspoken thing between the two of you, the only acknowledgment being an amused look from him every time you took that first gulp of whiskey.
You wondered how no one else seemed to know, you weren’t exactly quiet anytime you stumbled into the men’s quarters. But then again they all slept like logs and you always managed to slip away before the sun could peak over the horizon.
Tonight was your birthday, and contrary to popular belief, you tended not to drink as much on this day, wanting to fully experience the joy and laughter with your beloved crew. A few glasses of bubbly and maybe a shot or two here and there, but not enough to put you on your ass.
Zoro had a good sense of your drinking habits, so he could tell you weren’t going as hard as usual. He wondered whether or not you’d be joining him in his bed tonight, seeing as how your mostly sober mind could possibly hold you back. His eye caught yours as it always did. Your skin was warm and glowing, cheeks puffed up from the ever-present grin plastered upon your face. It took Usopp, knocking into you and spilling his drink onto your shirt, to finally pull your attention away from Zoro as you screeched with laughter, chasing the sniper around the deck with a handful of cake meant to be smashed into his face.
Things finally wound down to lull as everyone crashed outside under the milky glow of the moon. Zoro looked around but couldn’t find you or either of the other girls anywhere, and deduced that you’d all probably left together. Oh well. Looks like he’d have the room to himself. Throwing Luffy’s arm off his cheek, he dusted off his pants and made his way back inside. His heavy footfalls echoed throughout the empty halls, wood creaking as the Sunny rocked him along. Finally arriving at his door, a fleeting image of you waiting in his bed, curled up under his sheets, crossed his mind. He quickly shook it off, knocking it back towards the huge pile of other non crew-like thoughts he had of you, and opened the door. Instead he was greeted by an empty bed, and as he closed the door, he quickly stripped himself of his clothes, and collapsed onto the mattress.
As you stood outside the door to the men’s quarters, you cursed yourself for your lack of self control. Your mind had now associated any amount of drinking with sleeping in Zoro’s bed, and that revelation had caused you to lie awake with a mysterious insomnia. After an hour of tossing and turning, your body had gotten up and your feet lead you, seemingly of their own accord, to wherever they wanted. And now here you were at his door, fully cognizant of what you were doing. Your knuckles turned white from your hand’s grip on the doorknob, and you tried to gaslight yourself into believing that you were actually drunker than you thought. This was a perfectly normal thing that you always did.
Pushing the door open you found Zoro in his bed, asleep as always, positioned in a way that was normally reserved for napping. Laying on his back, he looked luminous under the shafts of moonlight filtering through the window. Arm under the pillow behind his head, his bare chest rose and fell in a slow and steady rhythm, his soft snores tumbling from his parted lips. Your chest tensed and you stilled. You hadn’t expected him to look like that . Normally he was more of a misshapen lump under the blankets, but tonight his body looked almost as if it was offering an invitation to you. You tiptoed closer, using a few moments to take him in. With sheets rumpled at his waist, you had a clear view of his torso, which rippled with bunches of muscles beneath the skin. His jawline was as sharp as ever, head tipped back to reveal a clear line between it and his neck. He was so achingly handsome it made you gasp, chest tightening even more as you wondered how the hell you’d survived sleeping next to him during the past few months without melting completely through the floor. Liquor really did seem to have a dulling effect on your nerves. After a quick mental battle of building up your nerve, you finally lifted the covers and slipped beneath them, inching closer and closer until you were almost touching. After a few moments of admiring the wrinkle between his thin brows, you settled more comfortably into the pillow and finally dozed off.
It couldn’t have been more than an hour long nap before your dreams melted away. Something was different. You’d fallen asleep on your stomach but instead of a firm mattress beneath you, you were angled on your side and there was a portion of a body pressed against your chest. You wiggled your fingers and felt the taut skin of someone’s pec, and your leg was thrown over the large, corded muscle of someone’s thigh. This couldn’t be right. You didn’t have any current situationships on your roster that justified this level of intimacy. Embarrassingly, your body wanted to welcome the comfort with little resistance. But your mind and your body were always at war, and your flight instincts kicked in as you planned to rip yourself away and slink on back to your room. But just before you could remove yourself completely, a heavy arm you hadn’t realized was around your waist pulled you back against him. You looked up to see a mirthful smirk and a steely eye peering at you.
“Done using me like a hunk of meat?”
“What?” You croaked, heart anchoring into your gut.
“You’re cutting our time short, usually you stay longer than this,” he continued with a poke at your side, grinning like he’d finally caught you with your hand in the cookie jar. And perhaps he had.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I came here tonight. I’m not even that drunk.”
“Yeah that’s the problem, you only seem to come around when you’re drunk.”
Your mind whirled in confusion. Was that what this was about? Did you give the impression that you didn’t enjoy his company in any capacity other than when alcohol was involved?
“Zoro, I’m sorry if that’s how this is coming across, I don’t mean that at all, of course I like being around you-“
Your frantic excuses were cut short by his amused chuckle.
“You’re making this too easy. I knew it was gonna be worth it, messing with you tonight.”
His toothy grin irked your spirit and you thumped his chest in retaliation. Of course that’s where this was going, this was Zoro. Annoyingly perceptive and slightly mischievous, despite what most people thought of him.
“Why haven’t you told me to leave then? After all these months?”
“To be fair I did the first time, but you kept arguing that I’d actually snuck into your bed.”
The faint memory was promptly squished back into the deepest parts of your mind.
“Well…you still allowed it to continue. Why?”
He hummed as he scratched his chin, pretending to ponder.
“Dunno. Figured you had a reason.”
“What possible reason could that have been?”
Zoro’s arm, still around your waist, pulled you closer as he turned onto his side to face you. The dip in his tone made your skin erupt in goosebumps.
“Figured you wanted something from me.”
Breath caught in your lungs as to what he was implying.
“Like what?”
His brow arched with a knowing look, slipping a leg between your own and lifting yours higher around his waist.
“Something I’ve been wanting to give to you. If you want it.”
His eyes bore into yours, waiting for your next move. You hesitated a few beats before finally wrapping your hand around the back of his neck, pulling his face closer.
“I want this,” you sighed, brushing your lips with his.
He smiled against yours, pulling you tighter.
“Finally.”
The kiss that followed was like an ocean storm, knocking you off balance in its undertow. The groan that settled in his chest sparked electricity in your veins, causing you to whimper. Your tongue met the seam of his lips and he curled his own around it, guiding and tangling them together. The sound of your lips smacking was unseemly, but you accepted it as proof that this was actually happening. Your mouths soon parted to catch your breaths, chests heaving in unison.
“Zoro…”
He grunted in response as he rolled you onto your back, groin settled against yours. You could feel the bulge of his arousal rub against your center, and your leg that had been draped over his waist remained hooked around him. His hand next to your head gripped the sheets as his mouth descended upon your lips once again, the hand on your waist pressed more firmly and made up and down motions against your skin. He caught your bruised bottom lip between his teeth and bit down, sucking it into his mouth until there was nothing left to give. You let out a whine and he moved to the side of your face, pressing his lips to your ear.
“I wanna keep hearing that tonight, you saying my name like that.”
Not waiting for your reply, his teeth came out to bite harshly into your earlobe. You yelped, helplessly rocking your hips against his. His thigh slid further between your legs until it met your wetness at your center, nudging to provide a place for you to grind against. His mouth continued to do sinful things to your neck and collarbones, taking note of which spots got you to squirm wriggle against him.
Eventually the hand massaging your ribs slipped under the hem of you shirt, lifting it up to expose your breasts. Wanting to see them before he felt them, he stopped himself from giving your pulse point another nibble to look at you properly. The unwavering inspection had you feeling shy as you made a move to pull your shirt back down.
“Don’t do that,” he ordered, grabbing your wrist to stop you, slamming it back down into the mattress.
Your chest continued to heave as you tried to quell your insecurities, hoping that he liked what he saw. Seemingly reading your mind, he tsked loudly.
“You’re such an idiot.”
“Huh?” You balked at him, utterly dumbfounded. That was definitely not the response you could’ve ever predicted to receive for providing him with a full display of your tits.
“You know how hard it’s been for me, letting you leave all of those nights?”
You had no reply prepared but it didn’t matter, any possible words would’ve failed you as his mouth latched onto your breast, tongue licking playfully at your nipple.
“Even watching you drool all over my pillows and snoring in my ear couldn’t stop me from wanting you.”
Annoyance tickled your temple, even as he sucked on the underside of your breast.
“I may have drooled once or twice but I definitely don’t snore.”
He looked up with a smile showing all 32 of his teeth before replacing his mouth with his hand to rub his thumb softly against the pebbled nub. A surprised gasp broke free from your lips. Sometimes you wondered if you were the type of person who could cum just from your nipples being stimulated. Maybe one day you’d test that theory.
“You and I both know that’s not true.”
You rolled your eyes, turning your head to the side, unable to argue with all of his pinching and prodding. His hand reached over to grasp your jaw, forcing you to look back at him.
“Stop being difficult or I won’t give you your present.”
Your teeth clicked with the force of your mouth snapping shut, making him snicker.
“Is that all it takes to get you to listen to me?”
“Yeah if that’s what’s always being offered. I can be good for that.”
“Hm. Greedy.”
“I’m allowed to be, it’s my birthday.”
His fingers smushed your cheeks together, but he made no move of keeping you waiting as his mouth continued it’s journey down your body, sucking on your skin and biting the softness of your tummy. Slowly he peeled down your sleep shorts, discarding them into the darkness. Immediately your knees knocked together but he pulled them apart to stare intensely at the large wet patch in your panties. This time you felt pride as you watched his mouth go slack, his eye flitting back up to meet yours, dark with desire. He hadn’t thought it would be this easy to get you worked up like this, you were normally so stubborn about everything . If only you knew what this was doing for his ego.
As he bent down to bite into the plushness of your thighs, you sat up to enjoy the visual of his face nuzzled between your legs. You’d never seen him look sexier than when he glanced back up at you, intense eye contact stealing your breath once more. He nudged his nose against the covered lips of your pussy and gave it a sniff, an unexpected moan rumbling in his throat.
“Fuck. Never imagined you’d smell this good.”
You were left speechless as he removed your panties, finally exposing you to the cool air. You gasped as his tongue poked out to taste the juices leaking between your lips, and your head fell back down as you whimpered. One of his hands kept your hips firmly in place while the other crawled up to resume dragging his fingers across your nipples.
His tongue curled along the seam of your entrance, serving him another moan of his name and a firm grip on his hair. Not being able to hold his composure, he dragged your body closer to drape your legs over his shoulders.
“You know, if you were thinking this was gonna be a one time thing, you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought.”
“Stop being mean,” you sighed, pulling his head closer to your untended wetness, “get on with my present now.”
His mouth kicked up into a smirk before he brought it back against you, tongue chasing the leaking juices before stuffing them back inside. Your nails clawed his scalp as he hummed against your clit, his tongue making practiced and precise traces along the bud. You were briefly brought back to a conversation you’d had with Robin where you wondered if the power that it took to fight with a sword in his mouth resulted in his tongue developing an unusual strength. As his tongue bullied it’s way inside and along your walls, you concluded that it had to be true, and you gave thanks to his three-sword style as if it had provided a favor specifically for you.
Zoro’s senses were saturated with the essence of you. Your plump thighs squeezed his head deliciously as he fucked you slowly with his mouth. Your hand gripping his hair made him growl, rubbing his face further between your legs, groaning at your continuous whines dancing in his ears. You were so wet, clenching around his tongue, he had to reach a hand into his boxers just to bring himself some relief. He was unbearably hard and the more your hips bucked in time with his movements, the more he had to squeeze himself at the base just to keep himself at bay. Thankfully, you seemed interested in watching him work, your half-lidded eyes and pouty, kiss-swollen lips being any indication. He liked performing for you, and silently praised your bold approval.
His hand still played with your nipples, and every swipe of the pad of his thumb had your hips jumping so fiercely, he knew he’d have to file that away for later. But now you were moving too much, and he had a job to finish. Taking both of your thighs still hanging over his shoulders in his hands, he folded your body in half so that all you could do was lie there and take everything he gave to you. His tongue, still darting in and out of you at a steady pace, began making languid swipes along your clit. Your panting became louder as he continued his teasing, sucking one of your lips into his mouth and releasing it with a pop.
“Zoro…Zoro…please don’t stop. Please.”
You were begging now, and that was good. He’d oblige you, of course. Wrapping his lips around your clit, he provided a combination of licks and suction, working in tandem as your whimpers climbed louder and more breathless until finally, everything crashed. You came into his mouth with a throaty wail, body convulsing in his hold. He continued to lap at your juices as you shuddered with aftershocks, steadily coming down with a weak whine. You eventually settled down with a sigh and he released your thighs, causing your lower half to flop back onto the mattress. You sat in silence still panting and spent, spread-eagle with him kneeling between your legs. You cracked your eyes open to look at him, shaking your head.
“You are an absolute demon.”
He grinned smugly in reply, fingers swiping along your lower lips.
“I didn’t hear any complaints.”
Zoro’s dick cried for attention, and he was normally too disciplined to be led by it. But as he pulled it free from his briefs and used your slick to lube himself up, he was thankful that tonight he was going to indulge. He stroked himself lazily, looking up when he heard your soft gasp.
“Fuck…me.”
You’d let the words slip before you could scoop them back into your mouth. The sight you were met with went absolutely mad, beyond your wildest imagination. Here was Zoro, big, wide, and powerful, looming over you with the muscles of his bicep flexing as he jerked himself to the sight of you. His face was still insufferably smug as he kept his pace.
“You good?”
“Hm.”
Your lack of reaction had him quirking his eyebrow, curious as to whether or not you had met your limit and were ready to conclude the evening.
“We can stop now if you want to-“
“I thought it was still my birthday?”
Both of Zoro’s eyebrows rose as your energy seemed to return and you watched him intently, hand still wrapped around himself. You sat up on your elbows and licked your lips before giving him those shiny, doe eyes.
“I want the rest of my present now,” you pouted.
It was Zoro’s turn to be speechless as you grabbed his waist and forced him to lie back down over you.
“Don’t get all shy on me now,” you murmured, sliding his briefs down to give his ass a squeeze. The movement had him bucking forward, his hand finally ripped away from his dick to catch himself from dropping all of his weight onto you. You continued tugging his underwear down until he leaned on his side and slid them off, flinging them aside. His free hand grabbed your shirt still bunched above your chest, and roughly slipped it over your head, tossing it to join the rest of your clothes. He brought a hand to you hip and slid it down slowly to your thigh, hooking it once more around his waist as he settled back over you.
“Still got time to back out sweetheart.”
Your chest stuttered as you felt him poke at your entrance. You carded a hand back into his hair while the other touched his cheek, thumb tracing his lips. You were so caught in the moment, your feeble mind unable to focus on anything other than him. The feel of his strong body against yours, his veiny cock gliding smoothly between your pussy lips, his head turning slightly into your hand, giving it a whisper of a kiss. You were too far gone.
“Zoro…”
“Tell me what you need.”
You brought your mouth to his for a long, soft kiss before you looked back up at him. God, you were so pretty. Maybe he was kinder than he thought because in that moment he would’ve given you absolutely anything.
“I want you to give me everything,” you said, and he was convinced you’d read his mind.
He released a breath and guided himself into you, squeezing his eye shut as he felt the immediate squeeze. You were still so wet from his spit and your own arousal, but your walls were tight as he hadn’t used his fingers to stretch you. You didn’t seem to mind as you pulled him close, and he shallowly pumped himself in and out, going slightly deeper with every roll of his hips. You relaxed more against him and it became easier for him to slip inside; you opened up so nicely for him. Your hips rose to meet his careful thrusts, and before he knew it he was completely and snugly sheathed inside you.
He’d underestimated how warm and tight you’d be, even after your initial orgasm from earlier. He had to stop and catch his breath, panting in your ear as he willed his body to calm down. It wouldn’t due for him to cut this prematurely. You were looking to get thoroughly fucked and he was the only one who was going to give it to you how you wanted. After he was done with you you’d never be able to crawl into anyone else’s bed ever again. He was going to mold your pussy so only he could fit.
You hadn’t stopped moaning since his hips connected with yours, and you began clawing at his back, begging him to move. Your body was hot and wound tight as if you hadn’t just cum earlier. He finally lifted his head from the crook of your neck and slipped a hand beneath your body to press it up to his.
“You gonna be good for me?”
“Yes,” you whimpered, limbs turning to goo.
Giving you another quick kiss, he shoved inside you and lost any last dredges of sanity. You felt unbelievable, gripping his cock in a way that wouldn’t let go. His hand sandwiched beneath you grabbed your ass, giving him leverage to slam back into you. His breath came out in heavy pants as he built a bruising pace, grunting and groaning into your ear.
Your hand still pulled at his hair while the other held onto his bicep. The force of his thrusts made your whole body bounce up towards the headboard, and the rhythmic squeaks of the bed were embarrassingly loud. You hoped nobody had woken up in search of the room you both were defiling. Your pussy ached and fluttered against him as he fucked you, his stomach flexing with every grind of his hips. He was so brutal and so mean you were sure he was going to put a hole through the mattress. Suddenly he dropped your leg and pinned both of your wrists above your head.
“Wrap your legs around me sweetheart.”
God, what could you do besides follow that voice? So sinful that it gnawed at your spine. You wrapped both your legs around his waist, and his thrusts became more slow and rough.
“You gonna keep taking it?”
“Ye-ah.”
He pressed you further down into the mattress, your endless stream of moans becoming stilted from the force of his pounding.
“You gonna let me keep stretching this pussy out?”
“Please,” you pleaded, eyes watering as he plowed away at you.
You were so pliant for him, allowing him to use you as he pleased. He was going to batter your pussy red until it was swollen. Taking both of your wrists in one hand, he rested his other around your throat.
“Yeah?” He prompted, asking for permission.
“Fuck Zoro , please, ” you begged, all stubbornness and shame flying out the window. He was going to be insufferable when he was finished with you, your right mind was already dreading it.
“I knew you were a nasty girl,” he smirked, squeezing lightly at the sides of your throat. Despite his obvious strength, his discipline helped him hold back when he needed to. Obviously he’d never seriously hurt you.
“Fuck, it’s so good,” you whined as he continued to slam into you. His grip tightened as he leaned down to press his forehead to yours.
“Turn around and get on your knees for me.”
The growl in his voice made you wetter, and you squeezed tighter around him. He released your wrists and throat, sitting back up on his knees. His dick slipped out of you and slapped against his stomach, glistening with your slick. Getting a proper look at it, he was just as thick as you’d thought, with a nice curve that was sure to scramble your brains from the new position.
“You gonna keep drooling over it or are you gonna let me fuck you properly?”
“You are such a dreadful man, I didn’t drool!”
“Yeah, so I’ve heard,” he sighed with impatience, grabbing your arms and manhandling you onto your stomach. You whined and cursed into the pillow while grabbing another to stuff under your hips. Keeping your weight on your elbows, you pushed your hips back, making a nice pretty arch for him. His palm met your ass with a loud smack, and you felt his teeth take a bite at your cheek.
“You’re the one that’s nasty.”
He tapped his dick against your ass a few times, watching the strings of his precum and your juices coat your skin.
“Yeah.”
Without any warning he shoved himself back inside you, covering your back with his body and pressing his palm into your lower back to deepen your arch. You continued to wail into your pillow as you shoved your ass back against him. He nuzzled his head along your shoulder and neck, cooing condescendingly in your ear.
“Aw, I know. The big bad man keeps treating you mean.”
“So mean,” you hiccuped, dragging out the end of the word as he picked back up his brutal pace. The slapping of his skin against yours was abhorrent, and absolutely erotic. You felt your thighs jiggle as he slammed his hips, the curve of his dick dragged along your walls, carving a space for himself inside you. The head suddenly bumped against that soft, fleshy patch inside, and you keened. This was gonna be it for you.
“Zoro…I can’t. I can’t hold on for much longer.”
He took sympathy on you as he licked and sucked at the back of your neck, hands fisting the sheets as his body continued to climb with yours.
“It’s alright, you can let go. You’ve been so good for me. My good girl.”
His words had you squeezing him so tight he thought he would choke, a stream of moans and curses escaping your lips as the pressure built tighter and tighter. One of your hands came down to circle your clit, fingers slipping over the absolute mess covering your pussy. You gave a few more weak grinds against his hips before everything snapped and you caved, orgasm pulling at every last one of your nerve endings, down to your toes.
Your cries were in time with the pattering of his hips, and he sat back on his knees to watch the ripples of your ass as it connected with his pelvis. You were such a messy, crumpled heap against the pillow, and you’d never looked more beautiful. His body begged him to let go and release, and he was going to listen to it.
“Where do you want me to cum?” His voice was strained, panting and breathless as if he’d been in a harsh battle. God you were really wearing him out.
“Inside,” you said weakly, voice muffled by the pillow you’d stuffed your face into. He chuckled to himself. You were always so greedy.
“Maybe next time sweetheart,” he teased, still managing to be a shit while his threads unraveled.
With great difficulty he pulled himself from inside you, your walls still trying to drag him back inside with a weak grip. Taking his cock in one hand, he looked at your ass still raised in the air, and pumped furiously until his will broke and he spilled, long ropes of cum painting your ass and your back.
His body collapsed on top of yours, knocking the wind out of you. You allowed him a few seconds to catch his breath as he groaned into your skin before you whined at him to get off. With a tired sigh he rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling. You followed his lead, wiping the sweat from your face.
“I can’t believe. You just fucked me like that.”
He gave a half chuckle and glanced over at you.
“Hey I was just giving you what you wanted.”
You bit your lip as you stared back at him.
“Yeah, you did.”
He went to grab the sheets that had been kicked aside, and pulled you against him for a spoon.
“Zoro,” you protested, attempting to free yourself from his grip, “I can’t stay here. I’m sweaty, I’m gross, I’m covered in cum. Someone will find us.”
“I’ll wake up before anyone gets back,” he mumbled, pulling you closer until your back was flush against him.
“But my clothes, I’ll never find them under that sea of junk.”
“Just wear mine.”
“But…”
“Just shut up and go to sleep.”
Any strength left in your limbs depleted as he kept a boa-tight hold around your middle. His soft breaths fluttered against your ear, and you knew he had already slipped into sleep.
Tired and weak, you snuggled back into the curve of his body, pulling the blankets up to your chin as you allowed your final moments of consciousness slip away.
You prayed that no one had turned up to the other side of that door.
2K notes · View notes
bleedingoptimism · 4 months
Text
Steve likes to watch youtube videos of a guy who restores old consoles. It soothing to him, it relaxes him. He likes watching how he restores them, fixes them, makes them look brand new.
He also enjoys watching him work for… other reasons. Weirdly, he thinks the guy is kind of hot, even if he never shows his face. He looks fit, with the way his shirts stretch over his chest and are loose on his tiny waist and he’s always wearing cool belts, black leather with studs or chains. He likes the way he moves around, manic and a little clumsy but incredibly precise when necessary.
Steve especially likes watching his hands, thick strong fingers, bony wrists, noticeable veins, and short clean nails that sometimes have chipped black polish adorning them.
He sometimes thinks about those hands when he's alone, but, well… no one needs to know about that.
🎮🤲💖
Eddie has a fairly popular youtube channel… And a huge crush on his next-door neighbor. He simply cannot decide if the dude is cutter than hot or vice-versa.
'He sure is nice, though,' he thinks, when one day he gets a large package of replacement parts that he’s struggling to get inside and the guy walks up to him, asks if he needs any help, and takes the heaviest box with no effort at all.
He says his name is Steve and then stares at Eddie's hand for a really long time when Eddie extends it for him to shake after getting the boxes inside his studio.
He hears Steve’s little 'oh', under his breath and then sees him blush prettily before mumbling ‘He needs to go, now.' And stumbling out of Eddie’s place.
Eddie chuckles to himself as he watches him leave, definitely cute AND hot in equal parts.
🎮🤲💖
A few weeks later Steve's mom tells him she needs help getting rid of some of his nonno's old things and he finds a LOT of cool stuff that look just like the ones Eddie restores on his channel.
He and Eddie have been slowly getting friendlier over these last couple of weeks and he’s been dying to have an excuse to talk to him more, so he takes the items home and then goes to Eddie's and very nervously tries to offer them to him but doesn't know how to explain he knows he's a youtuber without looking like a weirdo because Eddie’s never shown his face.
He stumbles and blushes a lot, barely making any sense and Eddie mistakenly thinks he's trying to ask him out and says, 
"I'd love to go on a date with you," Smiling and hiding his dimples behind a lock of hair he's been playing with since the moment Steve started stuttering.
Steve completely forgets what he was trying to say or do and says he'll pick him out at 6.
The date is amazing, it feels like they are meant to be. They get along so well, talking, laughing, and already making fun of each other as if they’re old friends. And they are definitely attracted to one another. If the way Eddie practically tackles Steve with his rush to get his mouth on him when they get back, it’s any indication.  
Steve is very on board with this and he enthusiastically kisses him back. They kiss desperately as he fumbles with his door handle to get it open. When he succeeds, he walks them backward into his place not wanting to stop kissing Eddie, but stumbles and falls flat on his ass.
When Eddie turns on the light he sees Steve sprawled on top of a bunch of boxes full of old technology. A lot of emotions go through his face, ‘he’s so expressive’ Steve thinks a little enamored, having still not realized how much trouble he’s in.
But Eddie looks confused, then shocked and scared, and finally, angry,
"Steve, what the fuck?"
‘Oh, shit…’
“I can explain!” he says immediately, standing up and walking toward Eddie as he backs away,
“I didn’t want to ask you out-” Steve starts but interrupts himself when Eddie huffs, turns, and starts walking towards his own apartment, “Shit, fuck! No- That’s not what I meant, Eddie! Wait-”
He turns again and glares at Steve but then his eyes go wide, “Steve,”
“Please, let me explain-”
“Steve-”
“I did- do! Want to ask you out! I like yo-”
“Steve!” Eddie screams and Steve stops, shocked, and finally focuses. Eddie is staring at him and he’s so pale even his freckles have changed color. But no, wait. He’s not staring at him, he’s staring at his arm and Steve looks down to see… a lot of blood.
“Oh,” he says faintly. He must have cut himself on a sharp edge when he fell. Too worried about Eddie, he hadn’t even noticed the pain, but now that he’s seeing the cut, it fucking hurts.
“Oh,” he says again, realizing he’s feeling kind of dizzy, ‘that's way too much blood,��� he thinks.
“Jesus Christ!” Eddie huffs, takes off his flannel shirt and wrapping it around Steve's arm, he pulls Steve by his other hand toward his van.
“Oh no, your cute shirt,” he mumbles and hears Eddie snort before he slams the door of the passenger seat and goes to the driver’s one.
They go to the hospital in silence. It's tense. Steve tries to explain himself but Eddie shuts him up harshly, tells him to save his energy.
Even so, when they get there, Eddie still holds him gently by his good arm as he helps him inside. He tells the nurse what happened because Steve is having a hard time focusing right now and then tells him he’ll wait outside for him.
He gets stitches and a tetanus shot just in case because he doesn't remember when was the last time he got one and gets weird looks when he refuses painkillers, but no arguments. He’s given a little juice box and is told he can't get up until he finishes it.
A few seconds after the nurse leaves, the door opens and Eddie walks in. Steve looks up and smiles at him, but Eddie doesn’t smile back and Steve shrinks a little on himself.
Eddie sits on the chair facing the overbed table Steve is perched on and sighs, moving his hand in little circles motioning like, ‘Well go on. Explain yourself’
Steve looks around the room and thinks about where to start. He can't look Eddie in the eye, so he stares at the little juice box in his hands. It's got a cartoon orange in the front. The drawing it’s awful and kind of scary.
Taking a deep breath, he starts, “I've been watching your videos for a long time now. I have- I am- I-”
He fumbles for what to say, even if this date is already ruined…it's not exactly a good first date topic, is it? How fucked up he’s inside.
In a flash, images of his father’s violence, running from home with his mom, going to live with his nonno, taking care of him as he slowly lost his mind with age while his mom worked her ass off to feed them, getting cheated on, losing his “friends” because he didn't want to bully freshmen, working as a babysitter and getting almost beat up to death by his kid’s stepbrother… he shakes his head and shrugs,
“I've been through some…stuff” is what he says in the end, looking up at Eddie. He doesn't look mad anymore, his expressive eyes look concerned. Steve worries about what was it Eddie saw in his own expression, but it surprises him how easily he read him. He’s usually so good at hiding it. 
He breathes in again and keeps going, “Your videos, they calm me down when I've, sometimes I get anxious and-” he clears his throat, again, not wanting to tell Eddie about the panic attacks, the nightmares.
But it seems he doesn't have to, Eddie looks at him like he gets it.
It makes Steve want to keep talking, “Watching you work, seeing you fix things, leave them like new, no sca- marks, no problems, just working again and beautifully clean. It makes me feel better.” 
Eddie gives him a small smile and Steve returns it, “I really like your hands…” he blurts out and then closes his mouth quickly, blushing furiously.
Eddie’s eyes go wide and then he smirks and stands up slowly walking up to him and taking Steve’s hands on his own, they both stare at their joined hands for a while, the touch feather-like and soft.
“You recognized me because of my hands?” Eddie asks him a little incredulous.
Steve giggles, “I saw the logo for your channel on your studio that day I helped you with the boxes,” he clarifies sheepishly.
Eddie blushes and opens his mouth in a silent ‘oh,’
Steve draws small circles on Eddie's knuckles with his thumbs, “When I came over today, I was just trying to offer you those stuff at my place, they were my grandfather's” he explains, “I didn’t know how to say I knew who you were without looking like a weirdo and I got nervous and you thought I was going to ask you out and I wasn’t planning to but you are so beautiful I-
Eddie kisses his cheek and Steve shuts up and looks at him surprised,
“I’m sorry I freaked out,” Eddie says, “I thought- I don’t know what I thought- I was just upset you didn’t actually like me.” 
And Steve immediately answers, “I like you” a little too excitedly.
Eddie smiles at him so warmly it makes his heart rate pick up, “Good. I like you too.”
He blushes and looks down at their hands again unsure, “Do you really? Even tho I’m…”
“What?” Eddie asks, squeezing his hands reassuringly.
“Broken?” Steve whispers.
Eddie hums and drops his hands to hold his face, “Not broken, baby” he says lovingly and kisses the crease between Steve’s brows, the top of his eyelid, his nose, and the corner of his mouth. Then hugs him and Steve buries his face on Eddie's neck, and breathes him in.
A minute goes by or an hour, Steve is not sure, and Eddie leans back enough to kiss him again softly and whispers, “Some things don't need to be fixed Steve, just held.” 
𝒻𝒾𝓃
coffee? a hug? ☕🥐💕
1K notes · View notes