#i guess that was my sign to delete that because it is only going to get worse come October 27th | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

charlottecutepie · 4 months

Text

₊˚⊹ᰔ Deal (Mathew Lillard!William Afton x fem!reader)

tags: public sex, m receiving, praise, riding, unprotected sex, threatening??

my notes: not really sure about this one, I might delete it later, idk yet :,) also eng isn’t my first language

“Hello? Mr. "I can't work nights?” Steve's hoarse voice asks, a beaming smile on his face as he talks to his potential victim.

It's always that fucking phone with wires. He'll never get off it. Most, if not all, questions are resolved through this damn phone.

Every time you enter this office, you see Raglan chatting sweetly on the phone, talking about jobs, vacancies, answering customer questions. And then his dark eyes rest on you, briefly studying your face before settling on your body. It's unpleasant feeling, as if you're exposed in front of him like meat on a plate when he already has a fork and a knife in his hands. There Steve lets out a laugh, takes the phone away from his ear and whispers softly to you: "you know what to do, honey." Embarrassment merges with arousal, which you can’t calm down in any way.

It always happens, it has already become a little tradition that at first you hated and denied. You were sick of yourself. But what happened? What made you like it? You started asking for more, you started coming to this damn office yourself, staring at the floor, obediently waiting for the cherished words.

"Yes, it absolutely is. Why? Have you had a change of heart?" Raglan asks with undisguised interest, clarifying Mike's intentions. He didn't even expect him to call back. This is just pure luck, Mike himself fell into his hands, so it's even better.

Every day, the same office, the same time, the same desk, the same Steve Raglan.

You're praying that sloppy sounds of you taking Steve's cock in your mouth don't reach Mike on the other end of the line, you're already ashamed enough. You try to be careful not to get his pants and floor dirty, but Steve doesn't care. His hand rests on your hair, stroking you like a little pet, an obedient pet.

Of course, you'll be obedient. You have made a deal after all.

"Let me give you a little backstory." he lowers his gaze to take a good look at you and spreads his legs wider. His cock penetrates deeper, he presses on your head, which causes an unpleasant feeling of tickling in your throat. You look at him, fluttering your eyelashes quickly as a sign that you're short of air. Fingers dig into his pants, crumpling the fabric. Steve raises his eyebrows, faking surprise, oh, what a pity. He's too rude, and you're too gentle, how cute. "Breathe through your nose or you forgotten you have one?" Steve lowered his voice.

"Can you repeat it again? I didn't hear you." Schmidt clarifies on the phone. You stop moving your head, afraid that Mike will hear something.

Steve sighs and adjusts his glasses, looking away from you. He starts explaining something again and you almost calm down, but he jerks his hips, allowing his dick to fully penetrate your throat, which makes you moan softly.

"This place was huge in the 80s with the kids." he smirks. Fortunately, Mike cannot see the face of his career counselor right now, because it’s definitely distorted by sarcasm and mockery. "This place been shut down for years. The only reason they haven’t given it the old wrecking ball treatment is the owners a bit of a… well, he’s kind of a sentimental guy, I guess. Just can’t bring himself to let it go yet." he chuckles. "Yeah…"

Steve's cock throbs in your mouth as you try to inhale through your nose. It's too much, you're slowly suffocating as now the whole situation is controlled by Raglan's hand, which is holding you by the hair. It hurts so bad, but then why you feel the warmth between your legs?

"Had some trouble with break-ins over the years. Drunks and vagrants, mostly. Not ideal…" it's surprising the way he do it, so calmly talking to someone on the phone while roughly fucking your throat. Although at times his tone is interrupted by quiet sighs. "Security systems dated, but fully functional. Floodlights on the outside, cameras inside and outside. Fair warning: the electricity is a bit… iffy." he’s all shining with joy while telling Mike about the pizzeria.

When you pull on his pants, tears come to your eyes and your throat hurts unbearably, Steve removes his hand from your hair. You release his shaft from your mouth with a popping sound that sounds very loud in such silence. Raglan smiles, looking at you contentedly, your chin is covered with saliva, cum on your lips, youre so beautiful, sweet. You’re lucky he's in a good mood today.

"Anything happens, there is a breaker in the main office, just flip it." he continues, but now looking at you, which makes it feel like he’s having a conversation with you. You exhale, wrapping your hand around his cock, moving up and down, he slowly pumps into your fist. His hand caresses your cheek, finger runs over your lips, smearing his cum, and it makes you smile a little. There's nothing to smile about, though. But you can't hold back the slight feeling of euphoria from such a gentle Steve, feeling yourself… Special? His touch is tender and his gaze has softened, he smiles while you continue to work with your hand. "Uhm, I guess that’s about it. You know, the rest is pretty easy. Just keep your eyes on the monitors and keep people out. Piece of cake." you lean closer, tucking your hair behind ear and running your tongue over his leaking tip. "Fuck, baby." he exhales, slightly squeezing the receiver of the old phone.

"Mr. Raglan?" Mike's puzzled voice. Your heart skipped a beat, like Schmidt's, but not Steve’s. Mike frowned, holding the phone closer to his ear. Did he hear correctly or….? From the very beginning of the conversation, he suspected something was wrong. Yeah, Steve's really weird.

Your innocent lick on his cock brought man to an instant orgasm. He was already on the verge from face fucking you, but the feeling of your tongue on his sensitive tip brought him to the limit. Putting the phone away a little further, he covered his cock with his hand until the spurts of cum laid on your face. He let out a barely heard groan, his glasses fogged up.

"I said it’s a piece of cake." Steve repeats, clearly not interested in continuing dialogue with Mike. "So, I'll catch you on the flip side… hopefully." not waiting for an answer, he hangs up.

What a good day, what an easy prey, how fortunate.

He’s in such a wonderful mood, light idea of rewarding you appears in his head. Why not?

"Come here, baby," he points to his knees with his finger, and you get up like a zombie, immediately pressing your legs together because of the uncomfortable feeling of soaked panties. Of course you're wet, this isn't the first time you are. But this will be the first time your problem will be taken care of. "you've been such a good girl, why don't I return the favor?"

Steve spreads your legs and sits you on his knee, hands holding you in place when you try move. It's not that you don't like it, you're actually losing your mind, but you feel too awkward knowing that you're in a public place. And the fact that he can feel your throbbing pussy against his knee doesn’t make situation better.

"What would you like, honey? My tongue or fingers?" he looks up at you, moving you so that your wet underwear rubs against the fabric of his pants. Your clit is stimulated, but in the most painful and torturous way, causing shallow sighs. You put both hands on his shoulders and squeeze his shirt as you throw head back.

"Please…" you're almost crying. "please, your… oh…" one more move and you'll cum. "cock, your cock, Steve, please!"

"Hush," he squeezes your thigh. "you know our little rule, don't you? Or should i remind you?"

"William," you're correcting your mistake. "William." He grunts with satisfaction.

"That's it." Afton's hands wander over your body, caressing you in right places. "Tell me honestly, you’re going to scream?" at first you don't even understand what he's asking.

He kisses your neck, continuing to slowly bounce you up and down on his knee. Thanks to you, a dark wet spot already appeared on his pants. His beard tickles your skin and his tongue leaves a wet trail on it.

"Yeah," you come to your senses, finally understanding what he meant.

William breaks into a smile. Of course, you'll scream, not just scream, but break your voice and cry, he knows that. His cock is hardening again. Afton loosens his tie, leaving it hanging around his neck. He'll definitely find a good use for it, already did. He makes you get off his lap and you look down, blushing. God, you couldn't be that wet?.. It's humiliating, so embarrassing.

William pulls your panties down to your ankles, and you step over them, remaining only in a skirt and shirt. You don't know what to do. This is the first time something as it happens, you've never gone far than just a blowjob. He pulls off your skirt as well, causing it to fall along with your underwear. He pushes the clothes aside with his foot, then sits you on top of him again. William’s eyes don’t leave yours, his hand reaches down, you feel a finger at your wet entrance.

Your lips part to let out a loud moan and William steals it with a kiss. You can't make any noise. He pushes his hips up, pressing the head of his cock against your pussy. He mumbles something into your mouth, holds you tightly in one position, you’re unable to move. His tongue roughly explores your mouth. William feels your breath on him and smiles. Then his hands grope your butt and he pushes you down, slowly lowering you onto his cock.

He moans in unison with you, but quietly, working hours aren’t over yet. However, you can't hold back the loud whimpering, feeling full. It doesn't seem very pleasant at first. Afton closes his eyes, thrusting fully.

"Be quiet." another warning. "You're taking my cock so well," he praises. "don't try to pull away," his hands go up to your back. "you have no right to do that, you know that." a careful but extremely unnecessary reminder. At least, definitely not at the moment when you're having sex with him, you don't want to think about a deal. About consequences if you’ll break it.

Every touch gives you a pleasant tingling sensation and you start to enjoy it more with every second. You move on top of him, trying to find the right angle, pressing your chest against his. You don't want to look at his face, into his eyes, because even through the glasses you can see that he's devouring you with his eyes. It's embarrassing. But it gets worse when he runs his tongue over your nipple through your shirt, leaving a wet spot on your clothes. William lightly bites the sensitive skin, while squeezing your other nipple with his fingers, a hiss leaves your lips. It hurts, but it turns you on even more. His chest heaves, he tries to restrain himself from jerking his hips up and ruin your cunt the way you deserve. Your warm walls squeeze his cock too tightly as you tremble from too much attention to your nipples.

"Now move up and down," William points out. "and don't forget about hips."

He knows you've never tried this pose. Of course, he knows everything about you. He likes to be closer to his prey.

Your fingers on his shoulders tighten, you begin to move according to his words. You don't forget about your hips, as he demanded. And then something pleasant begins to spread through the body. An enveloping feeling that radiates to every nerve. His cock feels much different than it did a few minutes ago. Everything inside is burning and throbbing, your body needs more. You want to move faster, you can barely contain your moans. William puts his shoulder up, which is what you're using to shut yourself. You mumble, unable to make a sound, whine, but you continue to bounce on him.

"Good girl," his words break you. "such a tight pussy." your teeth are digging into him painfully, soaking the man's shirt with saliva.

Afton starts moving with you, now holding you tightly. It's like you're nothing more than a rag doll in his hands. Your body becomes so weak and sluggish, eyes roll back in bliss. His cock goes in and out of your pussy with an incredibly perverted sound that echoes throughout the office. Drops of sweat run down his forehead and down your back, but it feels like lava that burns to the bone.

"I-… I feel so good…" your speaking so slurred, because it's hard to talk with his clothes in your mouth, but you're so pleased that you can't control yourself. "William!"

You can't help but moan in surprise when he gets up from his chair, holding your ass, his cock still inside. It even hurts. William lays you on his desk, takes off his glasses and puts them next to a sign with his fake name on it. You dare to look at his face. He's just as horny as you are. Without glasses, he looks a little different, grey strands stuck to his sweaty forehead, hair slightly messy.

William puts his tie in your mouth, you almost choke. Afton leans down, brushes his lips against your collarbone, so sensually. In response, you wiggle your hips, trying to get him to move. William is grinning at you, at your pleading eyes. He begins to hammer in your pussy. You cry out as loud as you can, but fortunately, the tie shuts you up, leaving only indistinct "please." His hands squeeze your ass until it bruise as he thrusts into you.

William stretches you out just fine, thrusting into your cunt fast, which makes it seem like desk under you is about to break. You're afraid of accidentally hitting his glasses, you don't want unnecessary sounds. William is so damn tensed up, you realize that in all this time he has never broken eye contact with you. His cock reaches deeper when you just thought it was impossible and tears flow from your eyes. William smears two fingers with his saliva and lays them to your clit, your pussy clench around him. His fingers move sweetly and slowly, pressing on your bundle of nerves that it drives you crazy. Your legs are wobbly, blood is boiling.

"Do you want me to cum inside you, baby?" the question isnt scary at all, because your brain doesn't work. Your red, tear-stained face responds him. You just nod frantically, trying to say yes, but tie doesn't let. William smiles, runs the pad of his thumb over your clit. "Your cunt clenching around me like that, begging me to fill you up. Damn perfect."

He leans closer to your face. Poor thing, he wants to end your sweet torments, to give you what you crave. Clenching your tie between your teeth, you arch and cry, unconsciously moving your pelvis towards him. William's legs bend slightly as his thrusts become more chaotic. He keeps fucking into you, groaning softly. William wants to say so much dirty things to you, but he can't. He can't be loud, he can't be heard, no need to ruin his reputation. Let others continue to think that he's a good father, an amazing career counselor, an ideal person who helps others. And you… and you're just his little assistant, who brings coffee to his office. Let everyone think so.

Warm liquid filling you, and at first you don't even realize what it is as you cum. His fingers caress your clit with gentle circle movements while you try to bring your legs together, but eventually wrap them around him, only driving him deeper into yourself. William is unable to hold back heavy sighs, still continuing to thrust, until he sees that his cum is already flowing out of you down to the floor. Your tired eyes and his tie in your mouth, all covered with your saliva, cause him an evil smile. This day couldn't be better, today everything is going too well.

"You did so well, Y/n," he breathes with relief, running his fingers over your face and taking the tie out of your mouth. "you extended your little sister's life by one more day. By the way, tell her hi from mr. Raglan."

#fnaf william afton #fnaf x reader #william afton smut #steve raglan x reader #william afton x reader #dilf william #fnaf smut #william afton #fnaf x y/n

450 notes · View notes

conspiring-limabean · 5 months

Text

so apparently the tumblr donation scam farms are moving in on Palestine; this includes both slapping basic phrases like "Free Palestine" into their blog headers, but also some of them go so far as to claim they are Palestinian refugees who need donations.

Here is your routine reminder that whenever you receive an ask in your inbox requesting donations, check their ass. 19 times out of 20 it'll be a brand new blog who reblogged a few posts to seem older than they are, is sending out spam asks to random blogs, and will be deleted in a few days once they've already scammed people.

Check their blog's age by trying to scroll to the bottom and checking the post timestamps. Turn on post timestamps by going to Settings > General Settings > Dashboard Preferences. On any device, you can also see when a post was made by clicking on the 3 dots at the top right of it. Scam blogs reblog an amount of posts to try to seem like they aren't brand new and pretend to have older accounts, and it’s very successful against people who don’t scroll down enough.

Check the location and area code of a PayPal link where/if it says something like country.x=xx. The xx will be a country code. Most tumblr donation scams are for some reason in the Philippines and will have the code PH. No I am not saying to distrust anyone in the Philippines who needs donations, but if a brand new blog is claiming to be a refugee in the Middle East but their PayPal link is from halfway across the world, then well...

Reverse-image search any of the images they use and find if it was stolen somewhere. Remember that these images are often edited to prevent people from easily doing this, and this is not reliable but can be an easy sign if successful

Be careful with blogs that request people send donations through "Friends and Family" on PayPal because you cannot refund money sent in this manner. This isn’t a dealbreaker as many regular users also request this to avoid fines, but is an addendum to scam blogs when enough other red flags are raised. It isn’t unusual for them to insist on receiving money through FaF to the point that some will refund money not sent through that manner to prevent accountability

Follow scam busting blogs like Kyra45 that might pull up evidence you otherwise would not have access to. I guess I'm going to start bringing back my habit of recording the exact paypal addresses that scam blogs use which has sometimes been the only evidence of a new donation blog being a scam, and no one would know this if I hadn't been tracking them

It is disgusting that people would take advantage of an ongoing genocide for their own gain. Please remember to keep an eye out for yourself and the people you follow reblogging suspicious donation posts trying to steal aid from people undergoing a tragedy

#scams #scam

677 notes · View notes

spockandawe · 7 months

Text

Double edit: actually, that's enough of that.

Edit: I was expecting maybe thirty notes tops. This is a surprise, and one that doesn't delight me. If I hear about any harassment stemming from this post, I'll be more pissed at the harasser than the person this is about.

God. Dammit.

I hate this, let's just out that out there! I'm unhappy that I'm talking about any of this, I'm unhappy there's an issue that's come up at the intersection of media preservation, respecting authors, and one of my favorite book series. And I'm unhappy that I've censored the names in the screenshots I'm about ti post! I'm not happy that I'm helping to slide consequences away from someone who thought this was an acceptable thing to do to a modern working author. But I'm even less happy this is something that happened in the first place, and I'm VERY unhappy the original post has been deleted without a whisper of accountability or apology.

And here's a partial screenshot of the IA page, which has since been removed. I get the excitement to share something you love with a new audience. This isn't the right way to go about it.

First, if Martha Wells' patreon is still in place, I encourage everyone in the strongest possible terms to go sign up for it. It'll charge you one dollar. I've been a member since probably 2018, and I mistakenly believed it was locked to new members (it's labeled 'Currently Closed To New Patrons') until I had reason to look it up last night, when I tripped across this reddit post from earlier this year.

Now. I was looking it up because of this sudden patreon message:

Even if the patreon goes away, I still recommend that people sign up. Explore the stories! They're very fun! Even though the patreon has been dormant for years, I've loved having that repository in place.

In fact, in the interest of full disclosure, what kept me from immediately reblogging last night is that I've felt the same archival urges! I bound a hard copy of these stories earlier this year, and let me quote my own words from that post:

I live in a state of perpetual low key stress over the impermanence of digital media and that goes extra for sites that aren’t designed to work well as archives. I hope, desperately, that someday Martha Wells publishes more raksura, maybe even including these stories! I will buy it immediately. No thoughts, wallet empty. I own all her other raksura books in literally three formats, fingers crossed that by printing this, I can actualize a formal official printing of these stories by the author 😂

So. Archiving, yes. But especially with a living, working author, I would never DREAM of posting a public free-for-all with IA and mediafire links. My most charitable interpretation is that OP thought it was fine since the stories were "free," even though the writeups acknowledge that access costs a dollar. Ao3 is also free. Reposting someone else's fic is still understood to be a dick move.

Last night i was left kind of stunned, and I was hoping to see some kind of response from op this morning taking responsibility, and was... disappointed to see that the post was just deleted. The IA listing was deleted too, and I hadn't actually looked up the mediafire post yet but I'm guessing it's also been nuked. Out of curiosity, I wanted to see if there was anything more in the comments, so I found a surviving reblog. And there was!

So I'm writing this post because I'm... frustrated. Taking down the files is a good step. Posting them publicly was a worse step, but hey. I still more than understand if Martha Wells still deletes her patreon. I don't understand what sending her files of her own stories is meant to accomplish, but whatever. Ascribing a profit-driven motive is driving me up a wall, though. She's financially stable. I read her email, and what i see is frustration that even though it only cost a dollar to access 62k of her work through her own chosen location, control of her writing is being forcibly removed from her. I'm sure that seeing copies sold by third parties wouldn't help, but I don't think that's the root issue.

This is a fandom-heavy website, I'm sure most of us have seen posts about not reposting art when you can share directly from the artist's blog. I've seen posts about stop copying your ao3 faves over to wattpad just because you like reading there better. At a fundamental level, I read the message from Martha Wells as a deep frustration at having no way to share her creative work without someone removing control of it from her hands. And I don't know if there's any way to really take back that damage.

#long post #the books of the raksura #archiving

607 notes · View notes

lillithhearts · 2 months

Note

Good afternoon, may I ask for hcs for lucifer, husker, and angel with a fem! Goetia reader? Maybe some general stuff and something [not including Lucifer considering there’s not much he can’t defend himself from] where the reader is defending him in her demon form, for simplicities sake let’s imagine her demon form is the same as stolas.

Reader x Husk & Angel & Lucifer (Separate)˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

ׂׂૢ Pairing : Lucifer x Fem!Reader, Husk x Fem!Reader, Angel x gn!Reader

ׂׂૢ cw : Not Proofread

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. . .

A few days a week you make special time for your Boyfriend, Angel; Being a Goetia doesn't exactly give you a lot of time to exist outside of your royal duties so this time with him was your time. Spending it in Pentagram city window shopping, talking and about anything you two get your hands on to do together, this time was precious to you. Now you're riled up at a "super fan" as he called himself trying to get to Angel who was standing behind you visibly uncomfortable yet Angel still tried calming you down but with no success; the situation quickly escalating as the dumb sinner tried rushing past you to Angel; with a swift hand movement you grabbed a hold of the sinners neck opting to just throw the freak against a building wall across the street, however quickly snapped out of your rage you looked back and saw Angel hunched against a club wall holding his stomach as he hysterically laughed. You looked for the sinner with no signs of him and looked to Angel to ask what was so funny.

"Babycakes! Ya didn't see the fatass truck drag the weirdo with him?!"

"..no?"

"you should've holy shit! It was hilarious his fucking face!"

You often didn't need to worry about Husker getting into fights or trouble, mostly because he stayed out of it at all costs not wanting to be bothered with the annoying fucks. So when you and Husk sat at a bar Laughing and drinking you were taken aback by some sinner who claimed to know Husk in his "glory" days and said Husk still owed him some money; Husk told the guy to simply fuck off and went back his whiskey, your instincts reacting almost on their own when you noticed a bottle fly past you and right into the dudes face; only after realizing he tried to attack Husker. Husk looked at you bewildered as you nervously smiled and used a little sprinkle of your power and throwing the now passed out sinner from the bar, apologizing to the bartender for breaking their booze and turning back to Husker.

"you're full of surprises aren't you?"

"I guess you could say that"

There wasn't much Lucifer needed protecting from, especially not anything in hell so you both had pretty calm lives together, everyone respecting you or being straight up afraid of you. You both laid in bed, cuddling and talking about your days and just general stupid things; Lucifer was in one of his Duck tangents when you heard a loud crash outside the bedroom and you instantly went on alert mode, your demeanor changed instantly and you went to check whatever it was with the scariest most threatening form you could put on, Lucifer simply following only a few steps behind you so when you found it was just some wind coming in from a open and forgotten window you immediately deflated, Hesitating to turn around as you started to hear Lucifer snicker behind you before he quickly rushed to hug you from behind, a smug giggle in his voice

"thank you for defending our home..~"

"go fuck yourself"

Authors note : Tumblr deleted my draft TWO TIMESSSSS omg...Anyway I decided to make Angels reader Gn because he is infact, Gay..If this was meant platonically I do apologize for making it romantic alas the ask didn't specify and I default to romantic :P <3

Taglist: @k1y0yo @ihavetoomanyfictionalcrushes @anni1600 @d0nutsaur - send an ask to be added -

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #lucifer x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #angel x reader #angel dust hazbin hotel #husk x reader #husk hazbin hotel

197 notes · View notes

shiny-jr · 9 months

Text

how to steal a heart (I)

[ a dummy's guide on how to steal the heart of a poor pathetic man ]

- Warning: Yes, this is still a yandere thing. You have been warned. Female reader.

- Note: This has been an idea (heavily inspired by Howl's Moving Castle) I had in my docs since fall 2022. I was talking to a mutual about how writing on Tumblr vs Quotev feels very different. If I leave something unfinished on Quotev, I feel incredibly guilty which prevents me from posting new stories. However, on Tumblr, I don't feel as guilty. Not sure why. Anyways, I know most of my followers here don't care for my ocs, and I've been wanting to post this for so long. So instead of posting on Quotev, I'll post it on here just to get rid of the urge to share this story (might delete this later). This is the same story I posted that little screenshot of not too long ago, and that screenshot was basically just the prologue chapter. So yeah. Hope you enjoy?

IN WHICH THERE IS A SEAMSTRESS . . .

Black smoke concealed the window like a thick veil as the walls around her shook. It was a sure sign that the train was inching by. The screech from its whistle and clanking against the railroad tracks, so loud that it must’ve been heard over a mile away, only confirmed her guess. Her hands continued to cut smoothly through the linen fabric, separating enough to fulfill another order placed this morning. As the young woman worked to separate the colors and gather more material, the corner of her eyes caught sight of the smoke concealing her perfect view.

The train’s fading motion and clanging against the tracks was eventually replaced by chatter just outside her workshop. It all became background noise, as she began to utilize the sewing machine. Lines formed over the cloth, blending it and connecting so they formed an article of clothing. Needles, pins, and scissors cut and dug deep through the cloth. Buttons of all shapes and sizes were neatly organized in little boxes, so she could easily take what she needed. Time just seemed to fly as she worked so quietly and efficiently, oblivious to the hours ticking by. Any other noise fell on deaf ears, even as a knock resounded on the firm wooden door that happened to be wide open already.

A pause before the person tried again, knocking a little louder again. “(Y/n)?”

Snapping out of her efficient trance, the tailor snapped to attention and straightened her sitting posture. Gazing at the door and back the window where the sun was much lower than before, it took her a moment to figure out what exactly was going on and what time it was. It was later in the day, and the woman at the door was Dalena… Well, everyone called her Ma Dalena because she was a kind older lady who tended to see the young female tailors as her own children. At least, most of the tailors.

“We closed up five minutes ago. You can go now.” Ma Dalena gave an encouraging smile that displayed the dimples on her skin, showing signs of age evident by the wrinkles. Judging by her long dress and small woven handbag hanging from her wrist, it was probably safe to assume that she had evening plans. “Why not spend the rest of the day with us?”

Us. Correct she was again. As welcoming as the invitation was to join Ma Dalena and the other tailors, she wasn’t willing to join them anymore. Not after the first time when she dared to venture with them. After shifts, the tailors had a tradition of going out into town. Not that it was a bad thing. But they used their time cafe hopping, searching for flirtatious men to satisfy their need for affection. Oftentimes, they would get caught up with the pushy kind. And ever since some troops from the military have returned from their duties, well… encountering a bunch of men who hadn’t felt the touch of a woman in months, was not ideal. At least for her.

Taking her foot off the pedal to pause her work and silence the sewing machine, she pretended to consider the invitation before mustering a polite smile with a shake of her head. “Hm… It sounds nice. But I promised the client I would finish this so they can pick it up tomorrow. So I’ll stay, but have fun. Have another drink in my place, alright?”

Ma Dalena merely nodded in understanding, her polite smile turning somber as she turned on her two-inch heels and began walking to the front entrance. The chatter of the other tailors ready and eager for the rest of the day off, went quiet as she announced, “We’re leaving now. Hurry now if you’re coming!”

The chatter resumed, accompanied by the sound of more heels tapping quickly against the wooden floors in an effort for the straying members to catch up with the group. They complimented each other's outfits they spent days making by hand, discussing various fashion trends, gossiping about clients and others in town.

In a way, she did and she didn’t regret accepting the invitation. It may have been nice to have good company for once, but it never felt right when she was present within their clique. It was as if she were trying to forcefully add a puzzle piece to an already complete puzzle, which is why she stopped forcing it. She wouldn’t want to sit there awkwardly during tea, unsure what to say as they spoke so confidently and loudly. It felt as if she were an imposter, someone trying to disguise themselves to blend in. It was why she worked in a small separate room, away from everyone else. That, and because she was the fastest tailor there. Part of her wondered if Ma Dalena was beginning to dislike her since she turned down invitation after invitation. But how was she to explain what she was feeling, when it would only sound like whining?

Drowning out her thoughts with work to occupy the space in her mind, she pressed her foot against the pedal and began sewing once more. The loud hum of the machine filled her ears as it worked against the red cloth under her fingertips. This was the way it was supposed to be. Mindlessly spending her waking hours working at a craft she didn’t excel at, but was decent enough to earn wages in. All while wondering what could’ve been, and secretly hoping that maybe soon there is something that can be––

“Look! Look out there! It’s Reyes’ temple!”

“Reyes?!”

“Where? I don’t see it!”

“There! Over the hill!”

Now that was something you don’t see everyday. Everyone retreated back to the window, desperate to catch a glimpse, even Ma Dalena. Halting her work once again, (Y/n) too was the tiniest bit curious.

In truth, magicians failed to interest her, not that she had an opportunity to see them much anyways. But all those in Etére knew to be cautious of two particular magic wielders: La Bruja de Bruez, the Witch of Bruez, and Reyes Ladrón de Corazones, Reyes the Thief of Hearts. The pair were like the local boogeymen, tales of their horrendous deeds spreading and becoming bedtime stories for children in order to scare them into good behavior.

Ever since her youth, she heard stories of La Bruja de Bruez. It was said that she was a wicked woman who’s lived for over a hundred years. A slight against her is taken seriously, and she curses those she comes across. But she was no mere fairytale. The witch has been a thorn in the country’s side for a long time, as she terrorizes the towns she visits. There hasn’t been much action taken against her, because she’s so powerful that hardly anyone stands a chance and she’s so elusive. Besides, the royal family don’t particularly care if the witch curses a random citizen every month or so, as long as they don’t have to risk pawns in their own arsenal of magicians just to take her down.

Only a few years ago, a second magician with fearsome spells and a horrible reputation, appeared. Reyes Ladrón de Corazones, or more commonly known as Reyes, was another brujo many feared, although not as much as his counterpart from Bruez. There were rumors, yes, but they were more lighthearted with little evidence to ever back up the claims. While the Bruja de Bruez spared no one, it was said that Reyes chose to pursue only young beautiful women. If you asked around town, half of the population would consider him a threat, while the other half would giggle and whisper about his rumored good looks. Maybe that’s how he lured them in? With charms. Either way, he was a cause for concern. It was said that at a young age after abandoning his position as apprentice under the royal sorceress, the most powerful known magician, he not only challenged her but won and stripped her of her powers. Of course, no one can neither confirm nor deny it, as the king kept a tight lid on the situation and supposedly those who approach Reyes meet a terrible fate. But his abode was proof enough of his sheer strength. It was like a castle, a temple wandering on mechanical legs, rumored to not only be fueled by magic but also made of it.

Through the mist and low hanging clouds, just over the rolling hills on the horizon she could make out the distinct shape of a temple. A magnificent temple that appears so small from so far away. But she knew that it was a beast, a titan wandering the wilderness where very few dared to venture. It prowled around on its mechanical legs, spewing black smoke as the only trail it left behind. Reyes’ moving temple disappeared behind the clouds, seemingly vanishing from sight. Onlookers within the tailor shop could only awe and wonder aloud what the brujo was like, what was true and what was not, their minds creating horrible fears and outlandish fantasies that would take root as rumors.

Lowering her gaze back to her work, she resumed once more, but the rumors overpowered the hum of her machine until their words reached her. The other tailors proceeded back to the front entrance, marveling about what they just witnessed. Was he hiding from soldiers practicing their flights just outside the town? Did you hear that he literally steals the hearts of women, but only beautiful ones? Someone said that a pretty waitress on the other side of town had her own heart torn out and stolen by Reyes just last week!

The door was shut and she was alone, left with her work and the noise outside. Swiftly she worked, able to repair tears and wears with ease and create other things. Able to get lost in the work for much longer, until she felt the ground shake and the screech of another whistle. The afternoon train. It’s smoke covering her window once again. It was getting late already. Not wishing to waste the rest of the day by continuing work or go to bed with a book she had already read twice, she switched off the machine and organized all the tools back into their places. Brushing off all stray strings from her dress, she then rearranged her completed work thus far and prepared to have a different kind of day.

Today, she would try to make it a can be sort of day. Even if it meant just visiting a close friend like Lía at the bakery. Just putting out the effort to go out today was more than she was usually willing. Although wishing it would be something special, a proper can be day without even trying, was like wishing to be acknowledged by a person you admire but never once talked to, it was much like winging it on a test without studying and praying you would get a perfect score even though knowing that it’s almost near impossible. But it isn’t statistically completely impossible, so you cling to that thin shred of hope that’s as taut as a piece of string.

The whirring of small planes buzzed overhead, the flying machines brandishing their flags like the proud and numerous soldiers. On nearly every home and business, there was the flag hanging over the door, a symbol of patriotism and support of the war effort. (Y/n) quickly crossed the streets and reached the trolley station that would take her further into town. Right now there was not a soldier in sight, but that was sure to change the closer to the center of town she got. She only prayed that there wouldn’t be any trouble with them.

The trolleys were full, people all going towards the center of town, in the same direction the planes overhead flew towards. If she had to guess, most of the people within the trolley were likely friends or family of returning soldiers. All giddy from the victory high of a major battle just won.

While watching the scenery go by, she wondered how Lía was fairing.

It was because of Lía and her family that she now worked in a tailor shop. (Y/n)’s parents had met an unfortunate end while traveling outside the kingdom. They were doctors dedicated to a good cause, determined to stay in dangerous war torn lands to heal and treat the poorest of folks. While she was busy with school and often alone but checked on by family friends, her parents were saving people an ocean away in a faraway land where Milavi’s war had spread. They had been too close to Milavi claimed territory, likely mistaken for doctors healing rebels, and were thus punished for their good deeds. With no one left to turn to, her family’s closest friend, Señor Obregón, adopted (Y/n) and treated her as one of his own.

Señor Obregón was a quiet but respectable man that spent his time either working or with his family. He was the one that taught her how to sew, knit, and tailor, after she became curious of his skills. There were two other girls, Lía and Cova, a few years younger than (Y/n), which is why she became the oldest sibling. Lía was the beauty admired all throughout their childhood and still beloved to this day. She most resembled her mother, but she wasn’t half as vain. Cova was the youngest and somehow the smartest, as she was able to quickly grasp the concepts from lessons even in (Y/n)’s class, despite being a few grade levels apart. She mostly resembled her father and his own wits. Then there was her, (Y/n), who had… whatever was left. Of course she never held any resentment toward her sisters, since they were always well behaved but perhaps a bit annoying with their squabbles. Lastly, was Señora Obregón, Rosita, who she just called Tia Rosa for short, was never rude or dismissive to her. Tia Rosa was actually very outgoing and talkative, but she was the sort of woman that wouldn’t be caught dead wearing something from last season. She desired the finer things in life and settled for no less, which is probably why Señor Obregón ended up in an early grave due to working himself to death just to try and afford the luxuries his wife craved.

Immediately after the funeral, while they were still dressed head-to-toe in black and their eyes were puffy from crying, Rosita sat all three of her daughters for a conversation about the future. It would be impossible for her to keep them all in school, especially considering she hadn’t worked a day in her life. However, she wasn’t cruel enough to just toss her young girls out into the streets with nowhere to go. So, she devised a plan for each girl. Cova would be able to best utilize her smarts in a challenging field full of promise, which is why she was sent to a good witch in the next town over, to become an apprentice in magic. Lía was already very popular around town, she would thrive in a social environment like the bakery on main street where to this day men constantly asked for her hand. As for her, (Y/n), she would stay here in Obregón’s tailor shop, where Tia Rosa deemed was best fit. Afterall, she did know how to carry on the business, she had even helped their reputation grow substantially as more people came in every day and profits increased. Although, she hardly had the time to spend the earnings on herself, that’s what Tia Rosa was there for. Rather, never there for. She’d collect earnings from the business (Y/n) ran and would disappear for weeks or months at a time to another town or city. But that's besides the point…

By now, the trolley she was on was near the center of town that happened to be within blocks away, the streets became crowded with people walking on foot. On roads below bridges, there were lines of military tanks rolling by. Not much further in, the sidewalks were jam packed with hundreds, upon thousands, of people. Confetti rained down, banners and flags were strung from every corner and door. Every window was occupied as citizens cheered and waved at the parade of temporary victors, a show of military strength. Soldiers in their crisp uniforms marched in unified lines, cavalry on horseback carried large flags.

As the density of the crowds increased, and the volume of cheers and the parade along with it, she felt her heart beat louder. This was too much, it was too loud, she couldn’t even think…! But she had come this far, to go back home now when she was so close would be a little pathetic. Avoiding the commotion like a plague, she decided it best to take the maze of alleyways to calm her nerves. There were hardly any people on those backstreets, just the occasional stationed soldier. Focusing her gaze on the war propaganda posters on the brick and clay walls underneath window boxes filled with colorful flowers, she pretended to carefully study them as she increased her pace from a calm stroll to a quick speed walk, examining the items as if they were the most fascinating objects she ever saw. Really, she’d rather not make awkward eye contact with the soldiers on guard that watched her like a hawk, which is why she hurried along until they were out of sight.

Now that she was alone, with the crowds and their entertainment separated from her by walls of homes and businesses, she felt relief as the once loud sounds melted into background noise. For now she could concentrate on the address scribbled out on the folded piece of paper in her hands, and her anxiety could be replaced with confusion as she attempted to navigate these small hidden paths. This was only the second time she was on this path, since (Y/n) barely had time to ever go out due to work and her own incompetence. The first was on a holiday some weeks ago when the shop closed early, which granted her a few hours to venture on the main roads to the bakery where her friend worked. This was the second time, and she’s never taken the back roads, which was why she couldn’t tell left from right here.

Just in time, she looked up from her note to stop her feet from moving, as she came face-to-face with an obstacle. It wasn’t another dead end, this obstacle wore clothing and golden pins, and had a head that could easily look down from his height and see the top of her hat. Immediately she stiffened up and took a step back, hesitantly forcing her eyes to look up at the smiling soldier that casually leaned against the wall.

The young man only appeared amused as she jumped a step back in surprise. (Y/n) noticed that delighted sparkle in his eyes, as if her skittish self and startled reaction was his entertainment for the afternoon. Before she could open her mouth to mutter an apology and force her head down to continue ahead, the man leaned just a few inches closer to get a better look at her face hidden by the rim of her colorfully embroidered sun hat. “Huh, just like a mouse. Are you lost?”

A mouse… A skittish field mouse. Would that then make him a rat or a predator? Holding her tongue so not as to speak her mind, she merely shook her head. Offending a soldier would not be good. Not that she had the confidence to say the quick comeback that came to mind anyways. “No… I’m not lost.” That was a lie.

The young soldier persisted, refusing to move off the path as he continued to block her way. “You look lost. Say, what do you say to an invitation to tea? Afterwards, we can go over directions and escort you to where you’re heading.” Even his partner in patrol, an older gentleman, also a soldier but likely more experienced by at least a few years, moved from his post and approached in curiosity.

As the second man stepped closer, she could distinctly hear his polished shoes tapping in a steady rhythm as he stood beside his friend. Her own heart rate easily outpaced his steps, and it wasn’t increasing due to excitement, it was due to growing unease. Yes, she knew rationally that these soldiers likely meant no harm and merely wanted to flirt, but her mind could only conjure up the worst possible scenarios as she reminded herself that they outnumbered her, they were stronger, and they had their long firearms strapped to their backs. Keeping her head down, she replied, “Thank you, but no. I’m supposed to be meeting up with someone.”

Just like the first did, the second soldier bent down a bit to peer at her features. Just like his accomplice, he wore an amused smile as he shook his head and remarked. “A mouse? That’s not very nice. Don’t worry, you’re much better than a simple little mouse.”

Rolling his eyes, the younger soldier only continued, “If you’re old enough to drink, we can go to a bar if that’s more your style? Do you live around here?”

This was getting ridiculous. Did they never learn to accept rejection? No means no, even children could comprehend that. But for now, she was at their mercy, no one would come to help her here. It would be up to them to decide she was no use for any fun and let her go, or continue to persist for their selfish desires. “No. Please let me pass.”

Barely phased by her firm reply, the younger of the two turned to his partner and scoffed, “See? I told you the girls don’t like the beard you’re growing out. It scares them.”

It’s as if her plea went through one ear and out the other, not swaying them in even the slightest bit. The older gentleman merely rubbed the stubble on his chin, “It makes me look better. Besides, I’m sure she doesn’t mind. She might even prefer a man with facial hair.” Actually, the word gentleman did not describe him well.

In that moment she was wondering, would she truly risk it all just to snap back in reply? It must’ve felt so satisfying, but was it necessary? Later, would she come to regret her decision or revel in it? Would she seriously use this sprouting frustration, minimal not only compared to her current fears but also in the grand scheme of things, to temporarily push past her anxiety and say something…? Probably not. As annoying as these men were, like the constant buzz of a pestersome fly, they hadn’t caused any harm except to waste a bit of her precious free time.

“Ah, there you are, mi corazón. I was worried about you.” A smooth and silky voice interrupted.

#yandere #yandere guy #yandere story #yandere male #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere x reader #yandere writing #yandere fic #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x y/n #yandere original character #how to steal a heart

718 notes · View notes

just-antithings · 17 days

Note

This happened a long time ago but I'm still bitter about it so I wrote this

In the peak of covid I started writing fanfic it was really cringe worthy self-indulgent oc×character 10k fic on ao3 that got like 10 kudos but it was my baby Anyways everything was going well until some anti read it and decided to criticize my work , and wow were they creative there "criticism" was absolutely something

1- the anti took issue with my oc being a black masculine woman saying that I was potraying racist stereotypes of black woman

*I am a masculine black woman btw I guess my existence it now a bad stereotype now*

2- oc's father the abuser showed signs of schizophrenia so I was demonizing people with mental illness

*this character was inspired by my abusive father , funny enough my dad wasn't diagnosed yet when I made the fic so I guess this random anti successfully diagnosed my dad before he even went to a therapist

3 I was fetishazing lesbian relationships

*to this day I don't know what the anti ment by that it wasn't even smut the oc and the character only kissed once and I'm a fucking lesbian*

After that they found my tumblr made a callout post and let my inbox be flooded by death threats by other antis until I deleted the fic I lived a whole year thinking the police will knock on my door because I dared to write a fanfic (wich it funny now but terrifying for a 15 year old)

*My biggest problem with the whole thing is the Anti was fucking straight white girl in her 20s like wtf*

that's why I take issue whenever when an anti cries racism about fanfiction , I don't trust them to know the difference between racism and not liking a specific charictistic (or they know just but know people will be more likely to send threats to someone if they used racism as a shield)

Like moments ago I stumbled apon a post calling z fandom racist for making a black character top because that inforces bad stereotypes of black men being aggressive to then stumble apon another post calling fandom y racist for making the black character bottom because black people shouldn't submit to white men (like wtf)

#mod erin #ask #just anti things #posted without comment

77 notes · View notes

gojo-enthusiast · 6 months

Text

Suguru Geto ~ Bad Day, Don’t Fuckin Speak

*Bad Day at work* MDI, 18+ Only! Suguru usually being loving when you two have sex, has an exceptionally challenging day, as he finds out Satoru deleted all of the contract agreements for an account Suguru was supposed to have signed today.

Psa: rough sex, degrading, calling names, P in V, unprotected sex, blowjob, biting, pinching, ass slapping. Fluff at the end okay okay

Word Count: <1750+

No proofread! Like, reblog! Follow me on X (Twitter) 🫶🏻

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Suguru was always loving when it came to sex. He was always gentle, and patient. Knowing it always took you a little bit longer to adjust, especially to his size. Suguru the very loving husband of yours, always listening to you about your day, and cuddling up to you on the couch. Watching some tv show he would never pick for himself. But he knows how much you like it, so he didn’t really care.

You had texted him asking him what he wanted for dinner, not getting a response. Suguru was always good about responding, you had even seen that he read it, so why didn’t he respond? You just figured maybe he was just a little busy. Well a little busy was an understatement, he was extremely, ungodly busy. Satoru his co-founder of a company they built together. Sponsoring new celebrities in campaigns, and dealing with marketing, publicity, things like that. Satoru had by accident trashed the contract for a new model they were signing on, TODAY! Satoru didn’t realize the papers he deleted from his computer, had been the PDF that Suguru sent to Satoru. Of course Suguru could have simply printed it again, but they were in front of the new model as Satoru realized not only did he shred the physical copy, thinking it was the draft, but he deleted the PDF. Suguru had to pretty it up, saying they have been having some unfortunate technical difficulties, as Satoru’s laptop had crashed. And they were waiting on his new one to arrive. Making some bogus excuse that everything was done through Satoru computer. Rescheduling the visit for the following day.

“What the fuck Satoru!” Suguru yells, “You had one fucking job!” Suguru hisses, “man it’s okay, they’ll come tomorrow.” Satoru says, sipping his iced caramel frappe. Suguru knocks it out of his hand, making Satoru finally stand up mad. “HEY! THAT WAS LIKE $7!” Satoru exclaims, “YEAH AND THAT CONTRACT DEAL WAS $3M THAT WE CAN POSSIBLY LOSE BECAUSE OF YOUR INCOMPETENCE! You realize they are modeling for the top designer brand in 2 weeks, if he doesn’t sign that deal, WE GET NOTHING!” Suguru yells.

Moral of the story, Suguru was fucking fuming still. He walks in the door, and you hear him. Perking up, excited to see your lovely husband. You made his favorite food, Zaru soba! “Hey baby!” You say smiling, going up to him for a kiss, he brushes past you, causing a frown on your face. You aren’t used to him being upset, quite frankly you had never seen Geto this mad.

You’ve seen him frustrated but never to the point where he brushed past you. “Hey, Suguru. What’s wrong?” You say walking up to him, as he’s walking down the hall to your shared bedroom. No response. “Suguru.” You say again, getting worried. “Suguru Geto!” You shout. You weren’t one to shout, but he was just not listening. He turns around, and gets close to your face, you can see his face is red as a tomato, and he looks like he’s about to burst.

“Quit fucking calling my name. Can’t you see I want to be left the fuck alone.” He says through gritted teeth. You didn’t know what to say, your eyes start swelling up in tears. Your husband had never spoken to you that way. He turns away, walking into the bedroom, walking into the bathroom slamming the door.

You sit on the edge of the bed, feeling that lump in your throat. He finally gets out the shower, You hear him on the phone, with who you’re guessing is Satoru.

“Quit fucking calling me. You’re the last person I want to speak to. You fucked up my whole day, now I have my wife crying because I’m so angry at you!” He yells, “Oh fuck you Satoru. Suck my cock!” Suguru yells before you hear silence. You’re guessing he hung up. He opens the bathroom door, and the light from the bathroom door is showing Suguru the tears down your cheek. “Su-Suguru.” You whimper, “Y/N, no.” He puts his hand up gesturing he doesn’t want to hear anything. “I want silence. I don’t want to hear anything but my cock in your mouth, and your pussy. Do you understand?” He hisses, walking up to you, gripping your hair to have you look up at him. “Do you understand?” He repeats, you nod. Tears streaming down your face, you had never seen this side of him, so you didn’t know if you should feel horny or scared. Honestly you were a mix of both, feeling your nipples harden.

Suguru takes his towel off, exposing his hard member. Bringing your face down, tapping his swollen tip on your lips, his way of telling you to open the fuck up. You open your mouth, taking in his swollen cock, feeling his hands lace behind your head, into your hair. Throwing his head back, feeling a relief already. “Fuck yes.” He moans, “deeper.” He pushes himself deeper into your mouth, feeling his cock in your throat. Your gagging, drool coming out of your mouth, and tears streaming down. “Suck, you slut.” He hisses, as much as this should be hurting your feelings right now, you were so wet from this. You had always wanted Suguru to sometimes turn off that sweet loving husband, and just fuck you like a whore. You start to squeeze your thighs together, feeling yourself get wet. “Spread your legs.” He demands, watching you spread your legs. “Touch yourself.” He adds. You reach down, pulling your panties to the side, feeling your juices instantly touch your fingers, you start to rub your clit, moaning on his cock, as he thrust it in and out of your mouth. “give me your fingers, the one in your cunt.” He demands, you take them out, lifting your hand up to him, he leans down, still have your face pushed against his cock, he sucks your fingers. “You dirty fucking whore. Wet from sucking my cock. Is this what you want? For your pretty little mouth to get fucked?” He groans, face-fucking you. “Answer me!” He hisses, you nod, as you still have his cock shoved down your throat, feeling yourself about to pass out from the lack of oxygen. Finally he cums, you feeling it going down your throat, he pulls out. And you’re coughing, catching your breath. “Are you fucking crying still?” He asks, you nod no, wiping your tears.

Next thing you knew, he had your panties across the room and your shirt was somewhere. He was biting you all over, leaving love bites all over. Not caring if someone will see it. “Suguru-“ you moan out, “what did I fucking say!?” He slams his fist on the bed, your head right next to where he just slammed, “what did I say!?” He questions angrily, “y-you s-said th-that you-you did-didn’t want to hear-he-hear me sp-speak.” You stutter, “Don’t make me tell you again, do you understand?” He hisses in your ear. You nod.

“Turn over.” He demands, you were taking to long, he flipped you over himself, arching your back for you, putting you in the position he wanted, he wanted to fuck you from behind. you didn’t mind this position, but you loved to see his face, and he loved to watch you cum. But today, he didn’t want to look at you, he wanted to look at your pussy pull him in, and cum around him. He slapped your ass, as your knees got weak, “keep your back arched.” He demands, “yes sir.” You say. You weren’t supposed to speak, but the yes sir was allowed after he heard it. “I’m going to let that one slide, since you sounded so fucking sexy saying that.” He whispers in your ear. You had to control your moan, as you felt him sink into you, he was kissing your g-spot so perfectly. He starts thrusting, not even giving you time to adjust, he leans forward, fondling your titties, pinching your nipple. Causing a yelp come out of your mouth, he leans back, back straight, he slaps your ass hard. “Shut the fuck up.” He says sternly.

You are in pure bliss right now. You are loving every minute of this. Loving every minute of being fucked so stupid. He is thrusting faster and faster, slamming into you, with no remorse. He puts his hand on your clit, and starts to rub it fast, wanting you to experience a high level orgasm as well. Because no matter how angry he is, he would never let you go without being satisfied. He loves you to much to do that to you. At this point you forget the whole no sound rule, you are moaning out, “I’m cumming, I’m cumming” you moan, “fuck. Yes. Cum around this cock.” He grits his teeth. Finally releasing his seed into you. And you cum around his cock. He’s slowing down his pace, he pulls out, flipping you on your back. Inserting his cock back in, rocking his hips back and forth again. Feeling you twitch and hug his cock so perfectly, causing a second orgasm to erupt from you, and a third for him. He watches your face as you cum around his cock, his favorite sight. “You look so beautiful when you cum baby.” He kisses your lips, you kissing him back. “Sugu.” You moan, latching your arms around his neck. “I’m sorry baby, was I too rough?” He asks, kissing your cheek. “Yeah but it felt goood, it’s okay Sugu.” You say kissing him back. “Just, don’t ever ignore my kisses again.” You pout. “I’m sorry baby, I had a terrible day. I needed to fuck out the steam. I should have been gentle.” He says caressing your neck, rubbing the parts he left marks on. “It’s okay baby, I liked it.” You say running your fingers through his hair. “Oh did you?” He smirks, feeling his cock harden up again. All of a sudden he grabs his phone and takes a video of his cock entering into your cunt, and sends it to Satoru saying, “Someone was a victim to your incompetence today. Handle the account tomorrow, I won’t be coming in.” He presses send and throws his phone to the other side of the bed, “I’m gonna fuck you all night princess.” Suguru smirks.

Suguru surely didn’t show up to work, and Satoru did exactly what Suguru told him to. Fearing that when Suguru comes in, he might just beat his ass.

#suguru geto smut #geto smut #geto suguru #geto suguru smut #geto x reader #jjk geto #getou suguru x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #suguru geto #getou suguru x you #suguru geto x reader #suguru smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu geto

301 notes · View notes

unreliablesnake · 1 year

Text

Animals - part 4 (Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader)

Summary: You turn to the Military Police to get help against Simon, but this move only enrages him. Things take a tragic turn after his visit.

Note: I didn’t like writing this at all. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button. I don't have a taglist.

part 1 / part 2 / part 3

Warnings: afab!reader, toxic!Simon, dark!Simon, r*pe, character death. If you’re triggered by any of this or you’re a minor, DON’T READ IT!!!

“What the fuck were you thinking, Simon?” Price yelled when the lieutenant closed the front door behind him. “Attempted rape? Harassment? Stalking? Were you even using your brain when you did these things?”

Ghost let out a groan as he pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned against the back of the couch. “She told you, I guess.” The captain nodded. “That’s her side of the story, I hope you don’t believe everything she came up with.”

“I talked to the staff of the inn where she and Soap hid from you, and the receptionist confirmed that you were there, making a scene by insisting on them still being in the building. This also means you really did track her phone.”

“I just… I didn’t want her to do anything stupid, like jumping into a relationship with Soap because she’s a little confused about her feelings for me.”

“She doesn’t love you,” Price pointed out as he watched the other man. “She’s terrified of you.”

The lieutenant tilted his head to the side and gave him a disappointed look. “Come on, John, don’t buy that crap. We aren’t on the best of terms at work, I admit that, but she wouldn’t have slept with me if she didn’t feel anything about me.”

“She did what?”

“See? I thought she would miss that little part out,” he noted dryly. “She didn’t complain about that to me.” And he was right, he knew that, mostly because you were such a good little girl for him, doing everything he said. When he left, you were sleeping peacefully in your bed, looking everything but upset.

“It only happened once?” Ghost nodded. “Look, okay, you had her consent one time, but what about the last mission? I heard what you did, and she definitely didn’t consent at that time.”

He rolled his eyes at this. “Nothing happened.”

“Because Soap arrived to tell you that I wanted to see you,” Price pointed out.

“You think I’m lying?” he asked, offended by even the idea of it. “We were just talking. Okay, maybe I kissed her, but she returned it,” he added.

“That’s not what she said.”

Ghost let out a frustrated huff as he stood straight and gave his superior an expectant look. “Fucking hell, John, this conversation is going nowhere. Do they have any evidence against me?” he asked, genuinely interested.

But Price only shook his head at this with arms folded over his chest defensively. “It’s not my job to know what they do or don’t have against you. And even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you,” he added with a pointed look.

“Then what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to hear what you had to say about this issue.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong, she’s just making shit up because she hates to admit that she wants me as well,” Ghost explained. “Are you happy? Are we done?”

“We’re done.”

Once Price left, his mind immediately turned to the possible evidence that could be in his home, starting with the drive with those precious photos and videos of you. He hated the idea of getting rid of it, but there was no other choice. He also had to reset his phone, deleting every sign of the tracking app he used to keep an eye on you.

••••••••

You looked at Soap when you let Price into the building, tense from all of the possibilities of how his conversation with Ghost went. You knew he was good at convincing people, what if he could make Price take his side in this?

The moment he entered the apartment, Soap folded his arms over his chest and asked, “So? How did it go?”

Price let out a sigh as he took off his jacket and placed it on the back of a chair. He looked tired and at least ten years older now. Whatever had happened, it certainly took its toll on him. “He denied everything. For some reason he’s convinced that you’re only confused about your feelings, but deep down you know you should be together,” he explained.

When he saw your reaction out of the corner of his eye, Soap put a hand around your shoulder and pulled you against his chest. “He’s delusional,” he noted.

Nodding, Price sat on the couch and rested his fists on his thighs as he watched you. “This is definitely not the Simon Riley I used to know.”

“Maybe he just needs professional help,” you suggested, surprising even yourself with your sudden wave of kindness and understanding. “Maybe I shouldn’t go through with the plan.”

“Hey, don’t say that. After everything you went through, he has to be punished,” Soap told you.

“You’re right, Soap, but don’t forget that she will have to testify against him,” Price pointed out. “She has to be ready for that. She has to be ready to face him.”

You didn’t want to see him ever again. He was mad at you, why wouldn’t he be, and if he knew your new number, and if you hadn’t deleted all of your social media accounts, he would definitely keep harassing you. You were surprised he hadn’t shown up at your door yet, ready to get revenge for you turning to the Military Police with this.

It wasn’t hard to tell that Soap was tense, probably already disappointed that you were hesitating. He had been by your side from the moment you had asked for his help, and you knew he would stay until the very end. He would support you while the trial lasted, giving you the strength to face Ghost.

“I hope if we go on our next mission, he won’t be there,” you said quietly, glancing over at Price from under your eyelashes.

The captain shook his head. “Of course I won’t let him near the team. But you’re staying here as well.”

“What? No, that’s the only place where I would feel safe,” you told him on the verge of a panic attack. “You can’t do this to me, you can’t expect me to stay here alone when he’s in the same city as me.”

“But you’re under way too much stress, you couldn’t focus on your job properly. The last thing I need is you or anyone else getting hurt because of a mistake,” came the reply.

He was right. You didn’t want to admit it, but Price had every right to feel this way about your return. But you couldn’t get yourself to say it out loud, and instead it was Soap who spoke up. “He’s right,” he said quietly, giving you a sympathetic look. “And I don’t think Ghost would sabotage himself by coming here when he’s under investigation.”

Price nodded and you let out a sigh. “All right.”

In the next week or so Soap remained by your side, but then he had to leave and you were left alone. It was hard to be in the apartment on your own, constantly terrified of the idea of Ghost showing up. Because he was insane, it was quite clear, and who knew how far he was willing to go to get what he wanted.

You barely left your apartment, grocery shopping was usually done online so you could stay at home, and when your neighbors knocked on your door to ask you about that man who had had so many questions about your whereabouts, you simply ignored them.

Soap regularly sent you messages to find out how you were, and even Price and Gaz sent you supportive texts every now and then. Knowing there were people out there who cared about your wellbeing made you feel better, and days passed faster thanks to them.

But before they could return from deployment, you were awakened by a loud banging on your door. You got up from the couch and took a few hesitant steps in that direction, carefully listening as if you couldn’t already guess it was him.

“Open the fucking door,” he growled, his angry tone making you gulp.

This was exactly what you had been afraid of, him showing up to get revenge for everything that had been happening lately. Shaking your head to snap out of it, you ran to the coffee table for your phone and immediately dialed Soap’s number. He didn’t answer, and your call went to voicemail in the end.

“Soap, it’s me. Ghost is here. I–I don’t think he knows I’m at home so he might go away, but if I don’t send you a message that I’m okay, call the police please.”

You weren’t lying, he didn’t know you were there. The television was off, you weren’t listening to music, there was absolutely nothing that could have given away that you were at home. As far as you knew, even your neighbors were at work, so it wasn’t possible that he had begun this visit by asking around.

Then you heard a clicking sound and the door began to open up, revealing the lieutenant’s giant frame. “H–How do you have a key?” you asked weakly.

Ghost closed the door with a grin as he pulled down the mask he wore over the bottom half of his face. “I found it when I was last inside this place.”

It must have been your spare key from the drawer of your desk. He had been alone in your apartment after the one and only time you had sex, after all he sneaked out while you were asleep. Fuck. “Leave or I’ll call the police,” you hissed.

“You can’t really think I’ll just leave you here. After all the shit you’ve put me through lately.”

“The shit I put you through? Ghost, you’ve been harassing me for a long time now, you have to face the consequences!”

Ghost bit on his lower lip as he watched you, his eyes darker all of a sudden. Every single cell in your body was screaming at you to make you run, but when you wanted to obey your instincts, your body gave in. You were frozen by fear and there was nothing you could do about it.

It should be easy, you could do it. You just had to run past him and you would be at the door in a second or two. After taking a few deep breaths to calm yourself, you began to run, hoping this would take him off guard.

But he was expecting this because he simply held out his arm and caught you by your waist. “Where are you running, sweetheart? I’m not done yet,” he whispered menacingly as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a zip tie.

Whispering weak pleads to get him to stop, to let you go, you soon realized that Ghost was not about to give up. He tied your wrists behind your back, and when you began to cry louder, begging him to think it through before doing anything, he pulled out a ball gag and put it on you.

He was prepared. What was happening now was all part of his plan. He didn’t come here to talk, he didn’t want to set things straight. No. He wanted to punish you, it was that simple. For a while he was only watching you, probably enjoying the sight of you being tied up and gagged.

After he was done admiring you, Ghost put a hand on your waist and began to push you towards the bedroom. Panic quickly filled your mind, knowing full well from the look in his eyes what was about to come. How could he be this crazy? Whatever had happened to him that made him snap like that?

Ghost suddenly pulled out a knife and began to cut up the front of your shirt with it. You didn’t feel safe at all. What could’ve been exciting and even sexy in the company of someone you trusted felt like a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from. Tears were running down your cheeks but it didn’t seem to bother him, in fact, he looked rather proud of himself for turning you into this whimpering mess.

“Come on, sweetheart, don’t look this sad. You’re gonna enjoy it, trust me,” he cooed before placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

Once he removed your sweatpants and panties with one confident move, he turned you around and pushed you face-first into the mattress. He then began to move your body as if you were some doll he could fold however he wanted, making sure your ass was up in the air for him. You could feel his warm breath on your cunt, and it sent shivers down your spine.

You didn’t want this, you wished the police would arrive and help you, but something told you help wasn’t coming. You were on your own, tied, and gagged, and at the mercy of this man. When he let his tongue disappear between your folds, you began to cry even harder, your body squirming to get him to stop.

But he didn’t care, he just slapped your ass so hard you knew it would leave a red mark behind. “Stay still, love, it would be better for the both of us if you just calmed down. Try to relax. You’ll enjoy this, trust me,” he said, repeating his previous words.

Without a warning he pushed two fingers inside of you, furiously pumping as he tried to chase you to an orgasm, his other hand rubbing your clit to make the process even faster. Then another finger joined the first two, stretching you even further, and you could feel the heat pooling in your belly despite your brain trying to stop your body from reacting like this.

“That’s it baby, I can feel that you’re close,” he growled before placing a kiss on your thigh. “Come on, cum on my fingers, let me taste you again.”

And you did, you came on his hand like an obedient slut, your body going limp as he kept fucking you with his fingers. It felt good, and this thought made you feel disgusted. How could you like it when he was literally raping you? You didn’t consent, you didn’t even let him inside your apartment, yet here you were, naked and helpless.

You were snapped back to reality when you felt the head of his massive cock tease your entrance, dipping in a little for a moment before pulling out. “I wish I didn’t have to gag you,” he said as he put his palm on your back and pushed you down. “It was nice to listen to you while I fucked you the last time. But you’re a bad little girl, you can’t keep your mouth shut when you should.”

Suddenly you felt him slam his entire length into you, the move making your eyes roll back into your head from the pain. With a groan he tightened his grip on your hips and fucked you as if you were nothing more but a fleshlight. He was enjoying this way too much, and the guttural sounds and raspy moans leaving his throat made you feel nauseous.

He kept calling you a good little whore as one of his hands moved to your stomach and he pulled you up against his chest. “I wish I could put your hand on your belly so you could feel me move inside of you,” he whispered in your ear before biting on your shoulder.

You tried to turn off your brain, tried to ignore the way he abused you, but it was impossible to get him out of your mind. Your body had once again betrayed you, causing your cunt to tighten around his member as you were close to another orgasm. He kept talking to you, but you didn’t listen, you had no idea what he was saying. All you could focus on was the familiar feeling in your core, pushing you close to the edge.

You came four times in total before he finally stopped, although he didn’t pull out, instead he slowly fucked his cum back into your cunt. He told you how proud he was, what a good little slut you were for him, but he didn’t say anything about letting you go. Even as he was wiping your tears away, he kept talking about the next day, about how you’ll beg him to fuck you eventually, and how it was just the two of you from now on.

“If I take this off,” he began, pointing at the ball gag, “will you be a good girl and stay quiet?” You nodded. At this point you would have promised anything to get rid of it. “All right, let’s see if you can keep your word.”

The plan was simple. You play by his rules, stay quiet, then the moment he goes to the bathroom–because at one point he has to go out–you make a run for it.

Once your mouth was free again, Ghost leaned in to kiss you, tongue soon gliding over your lower lip to get you to open up for him. You had no choice but to return the kiss, feeling like throwing up the whole time. This was disgusting and sick and twisted, but for some reason he thought it was perfectly normal.

After some time the silence of the apartment was broken by your phone’s ringtone. You told Ghost to ignore it, hoping if the caller didn’t get a response they would send help, but he was quick to go out to the living room and check who it was. It didn’t take long to find out Soap was the one calling. The lieutenant was angry, really angry, and he almost smashed your phone against the wall.

“Tell him to stop calling,” he ordered after it began to ring for the third time. “Tell him everything’s okay and that he can stop calling you. But if you dare to say anything more… I guess you already know.”

Nodding, you waited for him to accept the call, put it on speaker, and hold the device closer to you. “Soap?” you asked hoarsely.

“Finally! Is he gone?” came his eager question.

You took a deep breath then gulped. “Everything’s fine, no need to worry.”

“Is he gone? Yes or no?”

It was hard to answer this. Every cell in your body was protesting against lying to him, you wanted to tell him the truth, that Ghost was still there with you. What’s the worst that could happen if you were honest with Soap? He fucks you again? If it meant help would come, at least you would know it would end soon.

So you took a deep breath and said, “He’s still here. I need help. Call the police, please!”

“Fuck,” said both men at the same time.

While Soap was yelling at his higher up over the phone to make him come to his senses, telling him he was calling the police as you’d asked, Ghost threw the phone on the bed and wrapped his hands tightly around your neck to strangle you.

He pushed you into the bed as he choked you, hell-bent on killing you apparently. You tried to tell Soap that he should hurry up, tried to ask Ghost to stop, but no voice left your throat. You were soon losing consciousness, falling in and out of the darkness.

••••••••

He checked several times but you had no pulse. Ghost put his hands on the back of his neck and kept telling himself this wasn’t happening. He didn’t want to hurt you, this wasn’t a part of his plan.

But when you had told Soap that you needed help, he lost it. There was nothing he could have done, his emotions got the best of him.

If the sergeant called the police, they could be there any second. He picked up your phone and unlocked it to check how long it had been since that conversation. Four minutes. He still had time to get out of your apartment. Yes, that’s what he was supposed to do now.

“I’m so sorry, love,” he whispered as he placed a soft kiss on your lips. How could he be this stupid? How could he be this irresponsible? He should have expected you to misbehave, he shouldn’t have taken the ball gag off. “Fuck!” he cursed loudly.

“Hands in the air!” he suddenly heard a voice say behind him.

It was too late. How could he not hear the sirens? With a sigh, he raised his hands and slowly stood up. There was nowhere to run. But where would he go anyway? He killed you, he killed the only good thing in his life.

He was truly the monster you’d been so afraid of all along.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost #ghost x reader #modern warfare #mw2 #modern warfare ii #call of duty #smut

594 notes · View notes

awakefor48hours · 3 months

Text

Update: they’re now @dailyanimeships (I'm blocked so no tag there :/) but it's the same person. Update 2: they’re blocked again. Let’s celebrate

Hello everyone, I need your help getting rid of someone that's been harassing people (myself included).

This is the person in question and I need your help to get rid of them and stopping any future harassment.

Even if you're not in the Black Clover fandom, I would appreciate a moment for your time to read this. For a bit of context, if you haven't seen Black Clover, the main ship in the show is Astelle (Asta x Noelle). In the show, Noelle has a massive crush on Asta (think Amity to Luz/Marinette to Adrien/Hinata to Naruto/etc, etc). It's pretty clear that Astelle will be canon but sometimes canon doesn't matter and people ship different things. Now onto this whole shit show.

Harassing in DMs

To start off, they're basically every shade of bigot. My moots and I have gotten really nasty DMs from dailyasnoel and I'm going to censor them because there's pretty bad slurs in them.

The first one was sent to me and the second one was sent to @the-geek-librarian

We're both in a server and everyone in this server (nearly 15 of us) have been blocked. Keep in mind, not a single one of us had ever interacted with them in our lives. We've all tagged our posts properly and haven't said a single negative thing about Astelle or their blog. They went out of their way to send us these DMs with very hateful slurs all because we don't want the same fictional teenagers kissing.

Harassing others

This isn't even the first time that dailyasnoel has gone after people simply for just shipping Noelle with another character. These two, ramiliadoesstuff and kcuf-ad have also posted about been harassed.

Along with that, there is now a ship week for Kahonoelle (a femslash ship involving Noelle) being run by moot @t-f-t (Alex) and this was the response to the original post (a post that was tagged properly and no malice towards anyone) announcing this.

This could've just been the end of it but they felt the need to send an ask to Alex expressing their disgust because there's people who don't want the same fictional teenagers kissing.

Then there's this lovely comment on that post.

Guess who's going to be extremely annoying during Kahonoelle week. (BTW, wouldn't it be really funny if we got them off the internet before their shit ass Astelle week).

Fanfiction

This harassment isn't just on tumblr either, it's on AO3 too.

I scrolled through the Yunoelle (Yuno x Noelle) tag on AO3 and the comments on some of these fanfictions are so vile. There's so many hate comments and I didn't even screenshot all of them because there's so many of them.

I found comments left by people with the username "dailyasnoel" and other guest users with different usernames that make similar comments to dailyasnoel because I assume it's the same person.

Making the Devils Cry

Yuno and Noelle Oneshots

When the Sea Goddess Snaps

Hot Tub Accident

While scrolling the Yunoelle tag, I noticed that there's people who have started limited their comment section, have deleted comments with responses like "dude, calm down," or have made their fanfictions private.

And even as a little side note, I want to make it clear that I was able to look at every single Yunoelle fanfiction on AO3 because it's not even a popular ship. There's only 31 fanfictions for them so a lot of these fanfictions are written by the same authors. On the other hand, Astelle has been consistently the most popular ship in the fandom and even has the most fanfictions. So it's not even like Astelle fans are hurting for fanfictions or that Yunoelle fans are invading their spaces.

The actual blog

The icing on this queerphobic, harassing, racist cake is that they're an art thief. Their blog only has art and all of it is from other people. There's no indication these are reposts, there's no signs that they got permission to repost these, nor any links to the original posters. (original art links > 1/2/3)

If you know nothing about Black Clover or the fandom, I want to make this abundantly clear, this is behavior is unacceptable. This fandom has been very peaceful as of late and this one person does not speak for Astelle fans in the slightest. The Astelle fans I've interacted with are quite lovely, and if Asta or Noelle or Tabata (the creator) saw this, they'd be disgusted.

Whether or not you're in the Black Clover fandom is irrelevant. This is a horrible person and art thief, please report and block this person. Together, we can get rid of this person.

@dailyasnoel I know you have me blocked but if you happen to read this, I want you to know that if this small part of you that you show on the internet is even a modicum similar to how you behave in real life (joking or not), you are going to live a very sad and lonely life.

I hope you enjoy your own company because no one will want to be your friend, no one will support you, and above all else, no one will mourn you. Your absence will be treated with nothing but joy and whimsy because you are a sad and pathetic parasitic monster.

#best part about all this #dailyasnoel couldn't even be right #i don't even ship yunoeIIe #i ship kahonoeIIe #i headcanon yun0 as aroace #AND i do (guess i should say “did” now) like asteIIe #anyway prepare to feel the wrath of someone who barely makes minimum wage

71 notes · View notes

chokchokk · 10 months

Text

𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐭, 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 | choi san x fem!reader

PART TWO of : have your way with words, be my people pleaser

"Why? Am I not allowed to care now?"

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: He usually doesn’t drink this much. No, maybe he does, but it definitely shouldn’t make San act like this.

It must be a trap, you think, but you’ve already fallen for him, so there’s nothing you can do except not getting your heart broken.

"As if you could care."

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: smut, angst, fluff (if you squint)

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 7.1k

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐(𝚜): alcohol, san is drunk, reader doesn't fuck drunk people, lack of communication, non-penetrative sex, fingering, squirting, aftercare, showering, sleeping together (in a bed)

𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜: prologue + main part, finished

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎: please know that i wrote this before ateez drank in their video so any sign of projection is like just ... bad luck LMAO but uhhhhhh yeah here's the start of the A N G S T of it all so enjoy lol !!! <33

𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲

unknown number: sannie i think i left my phone at your place

unknown number: oh wait

unknown number: yeah i’m an idiot

unknown number: how do i delete this message

unknown number: btw is my name still “unknown number”

unknown number: because you should really change that

“That’s our thing,” he laughs, “she’s smart and all, but every time we hook-up, it’s like, I’m seriously fucking her stupid.“

His roommate snickers and looks at the contact name.

“So, uh, what are you two?”

“Hm?”

“You guys have good chemistry! Or are you going to keep up with the whole “sex-buddies” schtick? She seems cool, why not give her a chance?“

“Nah.. You know I can’t get myself involved in that again, Seonghwa. My last relationship.. I get goosebumps just thinking about it, really. I think she wouldn’t even want that, too. It’s all just jokes and fun between us.”

“Really?“

He turns off his phone.

“Okay, only sometimes, I guess.” He smirks. “But I really like that about her, actually. She doesn’t do it as much now, but, uhm.. she compliments me a lot?”

“San, you’re so fucked up.”

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞? 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐡, 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡.

“Hey, it’s me! Open the door~!", his voice rings and San should be very happy you’re still awake at 3 AM on a Sunday. “Let me in!”, he repeats and it’s not a loud, aggressive shout, but urgent enough to snap you out of your mindlessly scrolling-cycle on your phone and make you question whether you’ve heard correctly or are imagining things.

It’s a very bold move, really, thinking that your home is free for him to come at any given time, and if it wasn’t for the unnecessarily sweet drunken “pretty please?” that follows right after his demand, you would have gladly let him walk all the way to his own residency, but you’re weak, weak for him, so even though you do hesitate, the door is opened with almost no significant time having passed.

“Well, good morning,” you chuckle and watch the man lean against the frame with his head, his legs unable to hold the weight of his upper body. He’s wearing his usual fit of a black T-shirt and a pair of jeans, but his blushed cheeks, the smell of sweet tangy fruits and other sour substances tells you more about his evening than you need to ask for. It’s also not helping that his lips look swollen, smudged with red lipstick that he definitely tried to get rid of with a lot of rubbing on the way here — San's had a long night and he's waiting for it to get longer.

“I can’t drive like this,” San explains and his eyes are barely opening while he tries to keep a serious tone as he speaks in short-cut sentences, “and you were nearby... so now I’m here.”

“Did I ask? Get in here, Sannie.”

You grab his arm, or at least try to get your hand around his thick bicep and drag him inside, the door closing with a thump. “Thank you~,” San giggles and it takes a lot to not make him stumble completely onto you, you managing to put him down on your couch with your whole body-power, his face immediately plunging into one of the pillows.

“Where’s your jacket?”, you ask, as you stare holes into his muscular back and broad shoulders.

“Didn’t wear one,” he lisps through the fabric and his voice is raspy.

“Dumbass."

Trying to help him, you decide you’re going to get him a cup of water, but before you can let loose of him and disappear into the kitchen, San grabs you by your hand, immediately crossing his fingers into yours.

“No, stay,” San begs with a soft-spoken voice, face still planted into the couch, and he doesn’t know what those words are doing to you. Yeah, you guys have been having one or two one-night-stands too many with the unspoken promise to plead no hard feelings, but it’s him. Catching feelings for San hasn’t been something you’ve deliberately made the attempt to avoid.

But maybe you would have, if you’d known how painful it was going to be.

“Your hands are so soft,” he daydreams, a melody accompanying his rambling, “so soft and warm, like- like everything about you. I was actually just thinking about that on the way here! I don’t know if you noticed, but I really like holding your hands. They fit so perfectly around everything, and really everything— it’s amazing, really, really… amazing.”

“Funny of you to say that,” you comment on his drunk sweet-talk with a tired— but still entertained— sigh and stand there, dumbfounded, his hand sweating into yours. Is this the same guy that told you that he was uneasy when someone (namely his girlfriend) held his hand?

“Why funny? It’s my truth! Your hands are one of your best assets, second to.. your lips, maybe?”

“How shameless!”

Of course he’s absolutely boozed right now, but it’s been well-established to you that San only wears his silly loveable himbo-mask only when he’s subconsciously benefitting from it. Once you two had met up enough to have gotten comfortable with each other, San’s “nerdy” personality had magically disappeared, leaving you with one confident, prude-ishly sex-seeking macho. The “Sannie” you were looking for has somehow vanished into small moments and yes, it’s not like you haven’t been the one trying to crack through his shy façade for your own enjoyment in the first place, but you do miss watching the cheeky guy push up his glasses during your studies, glancing over at you from time to time, blushing, when he catches you staring back.

“Shame finds no place between us, does it~?”

Yet, exam season is over, has been over for a longer time now, which only makes it more evident that San is trying to find excuses to come over for reasons that go below bonding emotionally by miles. Sure, the hook-ups have been fun, exhilaratingly so. He’s all yours, San says repeatedly, but once you’d realised that he was still casually seeing other people, and it was just a saying, but worse, had felt an aching sting inside your breast when you had done so, yeah, fuck, that has been the moment you’ve known that having sex with this man isn’t enough: You have fallen in love (or something similar) with San and a serious relationship is the seal to quench your thirst for his affection.

“I guess we’ve got rid of shame a long time ago, huh,” you answer non-chalantly.

His hands are soft too. His lips are like one addictive book you can’t help but stick your face into, breathe in the words they say, inhale the soothing scent and make it your perfume — you’re smitten for him. You can’t begin to fathom the dread you feel when something inside you ever-so enchantingly tickles when San giggles, acknowledging your ways: "That's who we are!"

He knows that it's not who you "are" as he sits there on your couch, fingers interlocking, it’s… well, who you had been.

Two people who didn't have to think before they said anything, be free with their thoughts in order to relieve them from the stress that came from maintaining concentration and quality. Have you been with him enough to say you miss the older San? The sweet, sometimes silly Sannie?

"You’re my stupid whore, don't you forget!”

No, time alone can’t tell that. But even the sweetest strawberries mold when they're not eaten and waiting is a tiring process.

“Yeah.”

For the short time you've known and yearned for San, he’s been in multiple committed relationships, which is one of the reasons why it has taken you two so long to finally fuck, and it hasn’t really bothered you while you hadn’t, since you couldn’t know what you were missing out on.

But now— though you’ve never seen him be with his girlfriends— you have gathered enough information to know that San’s got it in him. He doesn’t like talking about his endeavours and you could only get a little bit of small-talk with Seonghwa about it, yet from what you know now, your college “love”-experiences don’t come even one inch close to the romances he’s been in; you can’t help but find yourself fantasising about his sweet ways of loving.

You have had enough of half-assery, enough of hangovers, and the thing is, you desperately don’t want San to be your next failed situationship. Knowing that he is single, that right now, he is able to be taken— taken by you— but him still not being yours; it makes you question things you haven’t stopped to question about yourself when being with other people. Like, what do you have to do, what do you have to be in order for San to not visit some dumb party in the first place? He hasn’t visited as many parties when you were just “study-buddies”, why is he visiting them now?

It— whatever “it” is— has developed into something like a challenge, making San want you and only you. Turns out though, that stuff is more difficult than anything you've been doing for college. At least when you had to study, San wasn’t going around having fucking other women.

“Were you gonna leave me?”

Yes, of course you feel pathetic thinking about it like this; you know it’s all an error in communication in regards to your “friends with benefits”-lifestyle you and San are carrying out, but if it has gotten you two together the first time around, the manifestation must work the second time: That’s the only trust you have and it’s enough to keep you going and engage in San's unannounced rendezvous.

"No, you sound like you needed water, that’s all.”

For a while, San just breathes heavily into the pillow and you caress his finger. It does remind you a little bit of the movie-nights you've had with him in the past, when you tried to make your hands touch inside the popcorn like some lovesick child. Maybe it has never been about the sex.

His finger twitches as if he's already gone to slumber, but when you scuffle to get him a blanket at least, San yanks you back down.

“No! Noo, I need you, nothing else! Stay here, please,” he thrums, lurking from the pillow to wink at you, though before you can react to this sentence, San mutters, "I'm not going to fall asleep. I'm not tired, I'm just exhausted." That's the same thing, Sannie.

“Where were you, anyways?”, you ask and make yourself comfortable, San’s and your hands placed on the edge of the sofa, while his stomach lays flat over the whole surface, legs extended out.

“Where I was? Good question,” San lulls, laughing a little bit, "Seonghwa brought me as his plus one to one of his friend’s birthday party, that’s where I was!”

“Sounds nice,” you hum. “Didn’t know you were a cocktail-type of person, though.”

“Oh, do I smell?”

“Mhm—“

“But you’re right, actually, I’m not a long drink-drinker,” San falls in. Your eyes still being closed, you feel his soft, heated cheek against the surface of your hand, his swollen lips chafing subtly against your fingers. “But some girls came by with trays of self-made cocktails and… we couldn’t say no, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” you answer to just have answered something to fill in the silence. You can smell the saccarine scent in his T-shirt and you fear it's going to paint off from his saliva he's spreading onto your palm as San places kisses around your hand. "What do you think you're doing?", you ask sarcastically.

"Nothing?", San giggles, becoming a bit more eager with the smooches.

You've experienced him drunk a lot of times already, but usually he only drinks just up until the point where he can keep his “educated” tone to a perceivable level of sobriety. But as of right now, in contrast, he seems to be way loose, swimming somewhere in between of lust and senselessness, which irritates you more than it should.

That is another thing that has changed after a while you two had sex. You are perceiving him differently, more and more differently each time San exits through your door, leaving an emptiness inside you that another person can’t fill, by whatever measure possible. But apparently, the same doesn’t happen for him with you, and you have to convince yourself you can change that every single day.

“We should party together more often,” he inclines, “what do you like to drink?”

“Whatever’s available and does its job, I suppose.”

He giggles, gasping at your answer. “You don’t care about taste?”

“I mean, drink enough and everything is going to taste the same anyway, no?”

"Let's do it."

"Huh?"

"I'm in the mood right now~ Are you in the mood right now?"

You scoff and open your eyes, revealing a San piercing his sunken gaze through you, cupping his cheek with your hand surface like you’re a saint healing him, his nose glazed red, and his lips remain pinkishly stained — in the mood.

This is not Sannie, but your guts still churn in amazement at the sight. The fatigue is wearing off; the sight of the black-haired man caressing himself with you is... "appealing" to say the least. It looks like he’s devoting himself to you, but you’d be a lovelorn fool to think this to be true.

“Or am I too drunk?”, San asks, pouting. “I may sound like this, but I’m really not that drunk anymore, I swear!” He pushes his eyebrows down, seemingly trying to appear serious, but failing to do so.

“You don’t need to swear anything, San.”

Gritting your teeth, you try to maintain a smile towards the drunken man as benevolently as you can. Of course he came for only one thing and one thing only, regardless of how cute he's huffing against your words; here are you, thinking that San was trying to get you as his plus one just like Seonghwa did.

Fuck, he’s still so hot though, there is no way of denying that. The first attraction has never worn off and you’re still head over heels for this man who’s booping your nose tip with his finger on the hand that is intertwined with your own.

“So, what do you say, sweety?”

It only takes one look towards his private area to know that San’s pants are almost exploding from how hard he’s become, his bulge being a face-forward sign inquiring sex.

“San, you know I won’t. It didn’t work the last time, don’t recall?”, you whoop.

He tries to kiss you, but fails to do so, as San misses your lips by an inch and falls to the floor. Your hands finally separate and you rub the inner burning space between your fingers as you remind him of the time when he’d drunk-texted you a message asking for "a quickie". San had made no spelling mistakes, but it had been very clear he had went to a party and returned sexually unsatisfied.

“Yeah, but that was via SMS. Now I’m here, and like, I even found my way to you, and they lived— like three blocks away, so I'm able to orientate myself, see?”, San corrects you.

“Impressive, but it doesn't change anything.”

“Morals?”

“Yes, morals.”

"You know I want to fuck you," he mumbles sulkily. Shuffling around, San sits up straight and looks at you with a saddened expression, his eyes trying to focus on you as he continues to talk you over: “But if you’re also drunk, you would?”

“Don’t even start."

“Which means you would?”

“San.”

“Come on, I’m being— I’m really being serious this time!”

You chuckle and brush his messy hair to the back, approaching his face to a dangerous distance, San’s lips opened by a slit, heavy breathing leaving his mouth while he watches you, his lip corners slightly turned upwards. He’s panting, his penis must be fighting for its life right now, and you’re just petting his head.

“At least watch me do it, then."

“Watch you masturbate?”

“Yep!”, San nods and unbuckles his belt without hesitation. “I bet you’d enjoy that! You would enjoy it, wouldn't you?”

“Maybe. Only if you don’t hold back your moans.”

“Consider it done, baby!”

You let out a laugh and search for a better position for seating to apparently enjoy the view. The drunk man takes a while to get rid of his pants, his legs getting tangled up and all, but once he kneels there, in his underwear, it’s showtime.

Or at least something like showtime. He’s being way too interactive with it for you to just sit back and relax. Whining your name in a needy pitch, he starts to pump his hardened cock inside the boxers, leaving whatever is happening there up to your imagination like a suggestive soft-porn video. However, you’ve seen his penis enough to know what it looks like, so this task is not too difficult for you. You can draw a picture of his cock down to each vein in your mind and you catch yourself drooling a bit, when you see his glistening tip peak from his waistband. You have to keep yourself together.

While letting out low groans, rubbing the head of his erection and creating slick sounds, San searches for your vicinity: “You like what you’re seeing there~?”

“What are you, a camboy?”, you tease and inhale sharply, when San grabs the seam of his T-shirt and bites down on it, revealing all of his abdomen, whining through his teeth. He’s definitely seen the same things as you online and his abs look phenomenal. Those things aren’t necessarily connected, but it’s the two thoughts shooting through your head as he begins to move his lower body to pump himself through his hand, chasing his own high.

“I don’t know!”, he lies, “I just like pleasing you!”

San purrs, his pelvis moving in round circles to accentuate his V-line and muscles flexing and un-flexing as he does so— leaving you quite speechless.

“Ah, really?”, you pant, him answering a very well-behaved “yeah, really~” right after.

“What do you want me to call you when I cum? Mommy?”

“Oh my god, is alcohol bringing out the submissive side out of you?”, you try to defuse the tension (mostly to hold yourself back from going savage towards this man as you always do) and chortle.

“Hmm, I don’t know about submissive~,” San answers, the saliva from his mouth soaking his black shirt, “but I should get naked first, no?”

“Yeah, definitely.” Taken aback by how you're anticipating seeing San jack himself off, you turn a bit too honest too quick like an avid viewer.

He grins and pulls the remaining clothing over his head with both hands, and his tip is still squeezed between his pelvis and waistband. By now, you really want to lick up the precum that’s leaking out, but you try to take your role as the sober audience seriously.

“You know, at the party, there was a girl,” San narrates, throwing his shirt to the side and looking down at his naked torso, “she told me I had nice pecs, so I said thank you, as one should.”

As an attempt to not interfere his performance, you wordlessly follow San’s hand trailing down his chest area down to his pelvis.

“But then someone told me she was flirting,” he continues, theatrically gasping to re-enact the surprise he felt after his friend had lectured him, “oh my god! I didn’t know! So naturally, I made out with her.” Which explains the red-stained lips, okay. Where is this talk going?

“But, the funny thing is,” San laughs, continuously brushing over his skin to give himself goosebumps, finally taking off his boxer-shorts up to his knees, his fully-erect, hardened cock jumping out and slapping against his abdomen as he plays with it, “she was so distracted by them, we didn’t even have sex. Like, she was massaging them and nothing else!”

You gulp at the sight of San lick over his finger and spread the spit on his lip with an opened mouth, making him look very erotic and naughty. His masturbating doesn’t seem to be speeding up any time soon though, San’s little tale isn’t over yet.

“I mean, it didn’t get me frustrated,” San admits, “but it did make me realise that some people can be in it for different reasons~!” That’s where he’s going with it, huh?

Okay, maybe you aren’t being very truthful to yourself, if you think that you've succeeded in hiding your feelings from San.

Let it be the one instance when you told him you were currently only hooking up with him and nobody else, or the other, when you woke up earlier than him and Seonghwa was the one to make you breakfast, San hearing his roommate joke that he should “join you sometime” and you dismissed it by saying you prefer it “private” — San has been presented the picture numerous times now, the picture being you wanting more than this, more than playing around with each other.

Which makes it all worse.

“… And she was in it for my boobs!”, San giggles and you notice you haven’t been listening for some while, staring at his hand installed around his dick, pre-cum dripping onto your living room-floor.

“San, less talking, more making yourself come.”

“Heyy, where'd that come from?”, San wheezes and leans against the couch, propping himself up with one elbow, “I haven’t asked you yet, what you are in it for, my lo—“

“Stop, fucking hell, I wanted to see you cum! Do it, San. I thought you were going to give me a show, not tell me a bedtime-story.”

“Geez, I just wanted to ask you about your kinks~!” Of course.

Grinning, San pumps himself quicker, hissing and whimpering, enjoying having all your attention on him. And even though there's nothing you'd love to do more than sucking him off, you’re still keep your hands to yourself, massaging your own tits as somewhat an homage to his dubious anecdote, but also compensate the vibrating between your legs. You’ve gotten unbearably aroused.

“Shit, keep touching yourself like that,” San responds and hopefully he’s forgotten what he was asking for. Filled with a sudden rush, he sings: “Do you want to masturbate too? With me? Do that, it'll be so hot. I will watch you too! Please, touch yourself with me.”

Too irritated and horny to do anything else about it, you let your hand slide into your pyjamas, and you meet your wet pussy immediately. You drive your fingers over the slickness, silently exhaling.

“That’s so hot,” San admires you and his vocabulary seems to have minimized due to his drunkness. He intensifies his masturbation, the grip around himself becoming tighter, and as he begins to thrust his pelvis through the hole he’s created on his own with his balled fist, San hisses erotically. Still not in control of his body, his arm holding him up folds unintentionally. San trips, and you twitch out of worry which you quickly realise you shouldn’t have. It's just a short moment, dismissable at best and to he honest, San is the one who’s naked, but in this moment, you feel more exposed than you’ve ever been. Fuck.

He doesn’t say anything, thankfully so, but as San moans and laughs simultaneously, almost with a mocking undertone, you don’t know whether the feeling inside your guts is your lust multiplying or your heart dropping. To get rid of bitter thoughts, you hope it’s the first and insert your fingers into yourself, trying to match the pace of San’s movement.

“You sure— that— you don’t need my help?”, San asks with not-so innocent intent, and his voice is strained from letting all the moans out as you told him to. “I really want to eat you out right now, there wasn’t anything to eat at the party… No food and too many cocktails~ Too many— oh, fuck…”

Becoming faster with his hands, it appears San is slowly approaching his orgasm, murmuring drunken words while you just started having fun with your own masturbation.

“Hold it,” you groan, trying to quicken up your pace.

“But,” San whines, working his ass front to back as he’s edged himself, “I even asked you, I— I can make you cum! I can make you cum without penetrating you, so please— just— let me cum! Didn’t you say you wanted to see me do that?”

“Changed my mind,” you say, scoffing at the whimpering man, sweat forming on his chest and dripping down his skin. “Now be a good boy and don’t cum until I say so.”

San is definitely exploring his submissive sides here, his brain almost doing a complete revamp when he hears himself be called "a good boy", a pant leaving his mouth, trying to follow your command. It’s like he’s become even more drunk, bathing in your praise when you hum: “Ohh, yes..”

Eyebrows pushed together, his dazy eyes disappear somewhere into the breaths of arousal in the thick air that’s been created between you two. San is crushed in between the pressure to perform well and his pure desire, the devilish voice inside his head whispering words of profanities to him. The blush accompanying the florid stains on his lip— San looks absolutely, endearingly fuckable.

“Oh my god," you gasp, hoarsely laughing at him, but mostly out of amazement, "you should see yourself right now."

"What? Do I look that good?", he snaps back, thrusting as fast as he tries to keep up with you, almost competing with the pace you're pleasuring yourself. Short of breath, San wheezes: "You sound so wet, and I bet that was all me, wasn't it? Because I look so good? I'm your type, aren't I? Nobody gets you like I do?"

"San—!”

Using your thumb to circle around your clitoris, you fall victim to San's provocative teasing that you’re not comprehending at all. All it takes is his sly, foxy side grin for you to understand that San is asking questions he knows the answers to, knows them a bit too well maybe, but he will not back down.

"Say it! You wouldn't have opened the door if I was someone else, would you?", he asks and you don't notice that he's leaning forward to you the more you fall back so you can reach your g-spot better. “Tell me, tell me what’s on your mind, you stopped doing that! Praise me more, aren’t I your hard-working camboy?”

"Don't act like you'd care!", it sizzles out of your mouth, a light-hearted chuckle following your answer as your finger slides over the spot that gets you moan the loudest, sparks of pleasure forming and exploding in your pants.

"Why? Am I not allowed to care now?"

San is special, but so are you, and for the faint of your own feelings you won't allow this man to destroy your will just yet. You're already struggling to drive yourself to an orgasm all by yourself when San could do it so much better, but you can't afford a drunken confession (even if you're not even the one who's drunk) even for the sake of it.

"As if you could care," you joke with a wheeze and you catch yourself stopping to care about it. There is no inherent shame in liking San, but if there was, you aren't going to be embarrassed within the safe walls of your own home. You need the orgasm first.

"Well, yeah, I don't, but I'd still like to hear it out of your pretty mouth," San gutters huskily with the same grin, approaching you even more so you can see his abs tense up— thighs almost shaking from the withheld orgasm— up-front. “Take your clothes off.”

There's that again, this shift of power that San loves to abuse. Like a fucking metronome switching from one side to another, San changes up, which makes it impossible to get into his head. He's too smart to be sabotaged into submission, he must do it by himself. He's a wild animal that way, preying on you with hungry eyes, waiting for the moment you're too distracted to fight back. "Distracted" meaning wanting his cock in your cunt, that is.

Hurrying the hell up, you hastily pull off your pants and panties over your legs, revealing your pulsating, throbbing pussy that has been rubbed to a numbingly sensitive state.

"Yeah, I knew it, you're so fucking wet, shit, you’re leaking," San sighs in awe, gulping at the sight of your labia be moved around by your fingers, still wanking. "You should know that I’m so mad that I can’t bury my face between your thighs— you're so, fuck, you're so gorgeous, you should be the one who's the camgirl, shit.”

By now, your and his face are mere centimetres from each other, and there’s this heat that drives both of you, his lewd words melting against your skin.

"Oh my god, shut the fuck up," you sneer, flattered by his empty-minded eulogy, "I'm not going to let you fuck me even if you're being nice."

"Can you even make yourself cum with your own fingers?", San hisses pettily, watching them go in and out of you, daring you to go deeper, "I bet it doesn't feel like I do!”

"It doesn't, thank you very much," you quarrel and throw your head back for a moment to moan, accepting his challenge of resisting his soliciting. He’s piercing through you with lusty eyes— glassy from the orgasm he's been fleeing from since the beginning of your dispute, almost crying from being restrained that much.

"Are you close?", he whines, getting a bit impatient. "Please be close."

What? Do you think I'll let you cum?

"I'm so close," you whine back, speedening your fingers inside you, trying to thunder them as forcefully as possible to simulate the thickness and vigour of San.

“Good, that’s so very good.”

Sighs and pants leave through San’s opened lips and he looks for greed inside your irises, as you watch his shaft shimmer under the night-lights, imagining it pulsing through you, all of its girth stretching you out in a way you can’t achieve with your fingers from this angle.

“San,” you whimper, feeling your climax approaching quickly.

“Hmnh?”, the addressed man reacts, and his voice is shivering, waiting for you to say the magic words.

“San,” you moan again.

Tell me that you want me. How bad you want me. That you want to be mine, that you want me to be yours. That you’re thinking of nobody else, that you’ll only think of—

“I’m here, baby,” San answers and swings one hand around your neck, closing the small distance by pulling you closer to him; your lips clash together and his tongue eagerly slicks against yours, him heavily breathing inside your mouth. His saliva tastes of a life on the other side of the globe and as he thrusts into his grip with an unbelievable velocity, orgasming with strings of cum landing on your pyjamas, you feel otherworldly.

But San won’t stop milking himself until you have come to exhaustion as well: When he sees you push your lower body up, San throws his unoccupied hand under yours to take over your onanism, burying his digits inside you immediately. Surprised by his sudden gesture, you back your head away from the kiss, your body spasming together because of the overwhelming pleasure.

“You know you need me, don’tcha?”, San beams.

This is wrong, this is all wrong, this is not how you planned this, you cry, but by itself, your hand rubs over your clitoris repeatedly and because San has become a master in knowing where, when and how to finger you, it is impossible to not cum with him and become a moaning mess under his touch. It’s whirring, it’s sparking, San is trying to send you over the edge of the world and you’ll risk everything for it.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” you whimper, feeling like you’re being intoxicated with the poisonous sucking at your neck and the stirring in your pussy; your body is being stimulated at so many points that it can’t catch up anymore. Not missing one beat, you scream out your orgasm, falling into the embrace of the muscular man who is barely any safety, his fingers not leaving your pussy.

“Be happy I’m not gonna shoot my second load into you, because your tiny pussy would feel so fucking perfect around my big cock right now and I could stretch it out so fucking nicely,” San growls intimidatingly, and you notice that his dick has become hard again right after his first orgasm, his stamina continuing to be one ridiculous weapon.

You moan, and apparently you’re not able to say anything except this, swinging your arms around his shoulders to not fall deeper into his fingers that are stirring your insides, “San!”

“What?”, he sneers and bites into your ear, “Aren’t you enjoying yourself?”

“San, I—,” you start begging and reinforce the clasp to somehow make him slow down, tugging at his hair.

“Hmm? Yes? What are you? Coming? Being stupid for me again? Say it, say it for me, baby.”

“I, o- oh, stop, fuuck—!”, you whimper with the way he’s quaking you through and through, but your request gets lost in the sounds of your squirt meeting the floor. You see a lightning bolt strike in front of your eyes, your consciousness sent into the wide space of otherworldly dimensions: all you can hear his San’s stunned gasping once he realises what he’s achieved and him ejaculating the second time because of it, right on the spots he didn’t get the first time round.

“Holy fuck, mom~my,” he coos, finally letting you free, his own tension being relieved as well. San lets himself relax against the couch, taking you right with him on his bare, sweaty chest, your arms rested on his shoulders. “Didn’t know you could do that.”

You’re too busy catching your breath, the once-gone fatigue coming right back, hitting you like a wall. There’s nothing else on your mind rather than to cuddle into San’s arms and get some well-deserved sleep.

“Do you think you could do that on my dick?”, San asks and you can’t bear to answer. You’re lucky that his penis has gone limp, because you know that this man could continue for hours if he wanted to. “I think that just kicked all the booze out of me,” he pants and you know he’s lying by the way he’s continuing to lull. “I’ve made many girls squirt, but that was really something else. Maybe it’s because I never came with them. And I wasn’t even touching myself, can you believe that? You made me cum untouched, fuck…”

San has forgotten your first time.

And yeah, you want to blame it on the alcohol, you don’t know if he’s just mixing things up, whether his memories are hazy because of the months that have passed since the incident— but it’s the only way his surprised face makes sense. Of course people can forget and get confused, it’s just sex and fun after all, but it still feels… disappointing. Like the first time you found out he wasn’t all that “yours” after all, it’s not like he’s breaking any promise, rather than being a moment of “oh, but I thought— well, never-mind”.

“Hey, you can’t sleep now,” San reminds you, “you got my cum on your shirt.”

“I don’t care,” you mumble and rest your temple at his collarbone, stealing a glimpse of what appears to be San being on his phone that has been stashed inside his pants.

“You sure? ‘Cause I’m gonna go,” San smiles.

“Go?”

“Not home! Did I scare you? You clutched me like there’s no tomorrow.”

You bite into his flesh to get him to shut up and he scrunches his nose.

“You make a very comfortable bed…”

“Yeah?” San puts away his phone and installs his arms around your waist, grabbing your ass in the process. “I’m glad.”

Ignoring that your naked privates are touching, you sigh into his skin. Because the taste has already entered your system, he doesn’t smell like alcohol anymore, he smells sugary sweet, the mild scent of his body leading you to further sleep. “Mhm, it’s the best,” you purr thoughtlessly, feeling safe in his hug.

“You’re only nice to me at times like this~,” San remarks with a pout and stands up with ease, carrying you to your bathroom. “You’re always so... gutsy when we have sex. Are you that dominant?”, he rambles silently, putting you down inside the space of the shower. While he talks, he does a little shimmy to instruct you to get your arms up. “You know I don’t mind, but I’m not lying when I ask you to call me stuff. Like nice stuff. Sexy nice stuff. Gets me on~”

“How are you still drunk?”, you ask, too exhausted to take your top off by yourself, letting San pull it off with his hands.

“Why?”, he asks sassily, throwing your shirt inside the clothing bin, quickly rushing to the living room and back to get his own clothing back, explaining: “It’s just something I noticed! Other girls don’t do it like you can! Like, calling me camboy was something, but then you were so mean with it—“

Returning back to the bathroom, he crosses his arms and leans against the shower door.

“If that’s too mean, you must really not like degradation,” you chuckle, sitting naked in front of him. “And you do dirty talk and call me whore.”

“You know that’s different!”, San argues, taking off his socks and grabbing the shower hose behind you. “I at least keep a balance with pet-names, don’t I, darling~?”

“Quite convincing,” you remark, barely perceiving the whole scene.

“Wait, can you—“

“Here you go.”

You stand up and walk back a step so San can have the same amount space inside the shower. You actually have never showered together before, so this one is a first, but who knows whether San is aware of this or not.

You don’t want to be too grim about it.

San turns on the water only to realise that it’s not going to get warm. “This is bad~!”, he pouts. “It’s too cold…”

“Maybe you’ll sober up with the shock?”

Getting some water in his hand, you fear he’s gonna splash it to you, but San only applies it to his arm which doesn’t even need the water by how sweaty it is.

“I dunno if I’ll get it on my hair, I just don’t wanna leave the alcohol stink over your bed~!”

… Sweet, angel boy. Don’t you be so nice to me. You’ll mistake it for something else, if he doesn’t stop.

“Hey, you good over there?”

“You,” you stammer, “you still have lipstick stains on your face.”

“What’s that mean, “still”? Did I come here with lipstick on my face?”

Okay, so maybe he hasn’t tried to get rid of them at all before he came in. Ouch? — Ugh, who cares, let’s get you to bed first. Over-thinking is for tomorrow, you’re fucked out of your mind and San will be tomorrow too, if the alcohol stays this long in his body.

A sigh which turns into a scoff leaves your mouth. “Yes, yes, you did.”

“Do you think it’ll leave a stain?”

“It should go away.”

“Help me~”

San lowers himself a little bit so you have better access to his flushed face and turns the pressure low so you can wet your hands with a little bit of water, before you carefully brush them over his lips which feel hot in the cold liquid.

“Thank you,” he whispers and you stare onto his soft lips as you answer, “no need to.”

“No, I should, like a nice ladies’ man is to do, right?”

San throws an award-winning, a bit loose-eyed smile at you and uncontrollably, you smile back at his dimples. It’s a heart-warming moment, though you fear the warmth is not going to last long. These lips aren’t yours, he’s proving to you that they’re not yours— shit, fuck, damn it— you will probably not get over this for the rest of the night, if you don’t change the topic soon.

“Yeah. You.. ladies’ man.”

“You said that!”

“I did?”

“Well, actually, I don’t know, I think it was “people-pleaser” or something, actually, but I like.. Well, I actually like both!”

“You like being called a ladies’ man and people-pleaser?”

Rubbing his lower lip with your thumb, you question San’s understanding of the words he apparently enjoys to be described as. What a San-thing to do, you smirk to yourself.

“Seonghwa agrees!”

“With what, that they’re good words?”

“No, he said that they describe me pretty well.”

“Ah.”

“Do you agree?”

You inhale sharply and bite your lip, meeting his sunken eyes, a bit droopy from the exhaustion finally hitting your black-haired apprentice as well.

“I,” you start to say, “I don’t know. When I said that, … I meant something else, I think.”

“You think so?”

You know so.

“Because it’s, hm, I don’t know. Nice, isn’t it? The thought of being wanted by two groups? The ladies~ The people~ I’m their man, I’m their pleaser, you know?”

“Yeah, you please ‘em very well. There you go. Praise. Are you happy?”

San nods enthusiastically and hugs you, forgetting that he has ice-cold water running inside his hand, getting your whole back stunned.

“SAN!”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I’m so—!” His eyes are big, but he’s laughing, he’s laughing very loudly, getting the shower off and hugging you again, leaving balmy kisses all over your face. “Sorry, oh my god, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t be laughing, I’m unforgivable!”

Except maybe he is.

When San tugs you in, waiting until you don’t answer his late-night questions of “who invented the camera” and “who was the first live-streamer” to tell himself goodnight and fall asleep immediately, you feel at ease: Disregarding that it took alcohol, will again take alcohol to have moments like these, there’s hope that there is still a little bit of Sannie that you can salvage.

He may not be yours yet, and for what he ensues it will take a damned long time for him to be, but San is here, laying in bed with you, one hand extended out, perfectly formed for your hand to fit in it and oh, how fit in it does.

part three: “the red he leaves is different [i wish it was]”

#ateez smut #ateez x reader #choi san x reader #choi san scenarios #choi san smut #choi san x you #choi san x y/n #haveyourwaywithwordsbemypeoplepleaser #chokkiwa

184 notes · View notes

tumb1rgirl7 · 3 months

Text

giving my opinion on the whole drama going on,

i’ve been a fan of the triplets for around a year and a half now. i’m going to be completely honest i only start to watch them because i found them attractive. i never had a problem with l***a and m**i until recently. signing 3 teenage boys to a management because your daughter watches them on youtube and definitely finds them attractive is so strange and weird and also the relationship they have with their manager is so weird. she treats them like family when they are her clients. they can’t fire her because they are best friends with their managers daughter, so they are kinda forced to stay with zstardigital.(i’m guessing they obviously want to stay)

now with the m**i and matt dating rumours. it was funny and entertaining, i don’t think a lot of people knew it was satire(i felt like it was) but as we know the triplets are sensitive and can’t take backlash, so them talking about this on the most recent podcast shows that they obviously did have enough, which is very surprising since they rarely ever talk about stuff like this because they don’t want to come off as “controversial”

i didn’t really understand when nick said he deleted tiktoks for “privacy reasons” i just thought it was strange since he deleted them in the time span of everything going on in the fandom. basically matt deleting “your never gonna find someone like me tiktok” set everything off.

i do think the sturniolo fandom is a little insane, but most of it is young teenage girl who would kill for them. the other half is older teens who just watch them for entertainment. the people who are giving death threats to their female friends are clearly the younger fans. but i feel as they are making their fans feel guilty and im talking about the fans that haven’t really done anything(i personally think it’s embarrassing being apart of this fandom when they have to call out people and i personally feel guilty even if i haven’t done anything, i just cringe that there’s people in the same fandom doing shit like that) i also feel as the triplets can be very ungrateful when their fans are literally paying for their rent.

im sorry if you don’t agree, this is just my opinion, the worst thing the triplets could of done was sign to a management, well the one they are sign to.

also since when did nick love chapstick so much to make it? no clue.

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo

43 notes · View notes

pbpsbff · 4 days

Text

happy 1 year of r&r :)

i know it's a lil cringe to like. celebrate the birthday of a series on ao3 but r&r is literally my child. my baby. i birthed this series. and you all signed up for this when u started reading my fics thank u

soooooooo thank u guys for all the support i've received over r&r i know it's hard to stay a consistent reader when my posting schedule is entirely non existent but i am so grateful for everyone who's stuck around this long and been with me for this journey (calling it a journey because a year ago i did not have any sort of overarching plot in mind and now we're 17? 18? fics deep and so many things have happened and i'm usually just as surprised as my readers) it's rlly u guys that have kept me going this long

ANYWAY. i rewrote this like 500 times cause i hate being like. overly sappy on this account because it's way funnier to act like a celebrity with a huge ego, but real talk i am so proud of everything i've done w this series & what it's become in the past year

i've been posting my writing online since i was like 10, so we're going on almost 9 years now and i don't think i've ever ever ever received as much support for something as i have for r&r and something about that is soooo special to me??? idk it's just so nice to see a completely self indulgent series become so loved by others, especially since the only other fics i had up before gmm&m were a little more on the "i'm gonna write what seems popular right now" side???

like shoutout to everyone who was here before/around when i started the series because my account was so empty like. 2 fics and one gets updated every 6 months. r&r pulled me out of the trench i fear. it also cured me of my very horrible disease that makes me delete all my fics after 9 months and then completely disappear from a fandom so everyone say thank you r&r

but yeah idk where i'm going with this i'm very grateful for r&r and all the friends i've made and people i've met through it because i was very lonely before i rejoined tumblr and r&r was like. 90% of the reason i made my account

AND SPEAKING OF FRIENDS. thank u to

@spidergrotto & @sapoteylx for being the first ppl i met on here to openly talk about and support r&r which i thought was so so cool even if you guys have become my haters in the past few months i've known you :/ thank u r&r nation u keep me humble and miserable (and i am very thankful for our friendship i think some aspects of r&r would be very different if we'd never met)

& ao3 user classactical because you've been here since like. a month or two into the series i think and i always always always look forward to your comments because i feel like if you comment, i did a good job on the fic LOL thank u for sticking around for so long, even if ao3 has been actively working against you for a whiiiiile

there's a lot more i want to say and a lot of people i want to mention but that would take a very long time and i always feel weird tagging a lot of people in posts so just know if u read r&r we are kissing rn. or high fiving idk whatever floats ur boat i guess

but yeah anyway tl:dr happy birthday r&r i'm very proud of this series & very thankful for everyone who has read any part of it ever u guys are so cool and hot and have amazing taste and i'm taking your kudos and bookmarks etc. as you swearing your allegiance to me and promising me your undying support no matter what (legally binding btw) thank u guys

#r&r tease #ough i cannot believe r&r is a year old #happy birthday r&r you are my favorite child #gonna go post that fic now #or in like 10 minutes #idk i haven't edited anything #stay tuned

31 notes · View notes

reasonsmandy · 1 year

Text

Unfinished Melody

Eddie Roundtree x Fem! Reader

✧.* requested by anon — prompt 38 with eddie roundtree 🥰

✧.* summary — The secrets that the walls of Eddie's Chicago hotel room held have lived in your memories since that morning, the words you two uttered without thinking still reverberate in each other. And maybe that's why after so many years none of you have even touched on the subject, but years later a reunion would bring all of that to light.

✧.* warnings — none

✧.* word count — 3.6k

✧.* 🎸 — Eddie's masterlist

✧.* mandy's notes — In case you'd like to be tagged in other djats stories of mine, the link to my tag list is at the end of the story. Good reading :)

Chicago Stadium

(July 12, 1979)

10h00

"Please tell me you're joking." Your hands were sweating and you tried to contain the tightness in your chest, looking him in the eyes was impossible.

"Do I look like I'm joking baby?" Eddie says running his hands through his hair. "You have to understand me..."

"I can't believe you sometimes Eddie." Your voice came out shaky, and when he noticed your downcast face, he felt a tightness in his chest. "You're just going to leave the band, our family, for what? Your own selfish ambition?"

Eddie let out a sigh. "It's not just about my ambition, Y/N and you know that. It's about Billy. I can't take his shit anymore. He thinks he's the star of the show and everyone else is just there to support him. That's not what we signed up for and you know that pretty girl, come on."

"But we've already achieved so much," You say, feeling the frustration rising on your chest. "We're on the verge of something great. And now you want to throw it all away because of Billy? You're being ridiculous!"

Eddie stood up, pacing around the room. "Ridiculous? You think I'm being ridiculous? You don't understand what it's like, Y/N. To always be in the background, to never get any recognition."

You don't let him continue, your face turns serious. "I've been every step of this journey with you, I don't know if you remember but I also stay in the background. If anyone knows what you're talking about, it's me. But you don't see me ranting to the wind about how Billy likes to be in the spotlight or how only Daisy is mentioned as the band's female icon. What we live here is something unique my love, can't you see that?"

Eddie's face softened at your words, but he still seemed resolute. "I'm sorry, gorgeous. I just can't do it anymore. I need to follow my own path, make my own mark on the world."

"And what about us?" you ask, your voice breaking slightly. "What about our dreams, our plans for the future? You're just going to delete me from the equation, is that it?"

Eddie hesitated, his eyes searching yours. "Come on honey, don't be like that."

"Answer my question." You felt your heart break.

"I don't know, Y/N! Damn it, I don't fucking know." He looked anxious, frustrated with everything that had happened in the last few days. "I need some time to figure things out."

You shake your head in disbelief. "You can't just leave everything behind, Eddie. The band, our family, our life together. You can't just walk away like it never mattered."

"I know it's not easy," Eddie says, his voice low. "But sometimes we have to make tough choices to get where we want to go. I hope you'll understand someday."

You feel tears welling up in your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. "I don't think I'll ever understand this, Eddie. But I guess it doesn't matter. You've made up your mind."

Eddie moves towards you, his arms open, but you step back. "Don't," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Just...give me some space, okay? I need to process all of this."

Eddie nods, his eyes filled with regret. "I understand. I'm sorry, gorgeous. I never wanted to hurt you."

You turn to leave, your heart heavy with grief. "I know," you say, your voice barely audible. "But sometimes, even when we don't mean to, we hurt the ones we love."

You left Eddie's hotel room leaving your heart there, you've always been in love with him since you were a little girl when you lived in Pittsburgh. Parting with someone so important to you was like losing a part of your own body, and you knew that that emptiness in your chest would never leave you peace.

...

Since then

(1979-CURRENT)

Your hands brought the cold water that came out of the faucet towards your face for the third time, you tried to camouflage it but the nervousness grew in your chest like a weed in fertile soil. It had been two weeks since you had finished your interview with Julia Dunne, for the documentary she was organizing about "Daisy Jones and the six", and when you recorded your last take she invited you to a barbeque at Billy's house that would get the whole band together to talk about old times.

At first you were reluctant to accept the invitation, but after talking to Warren about it, he and Lisa convinced you to accept. As you gazed into the mirror, you took note of your changed appearance. Your hair was shorter now, and the creases around your eyes were more pronounced. But despite the passage of time, you still recognized the same Y/N staring back at you.

You couldn't help thinking about what it would be like to see everyone again after what happened in Chicago, Was it going to be as fun as things used to be at after-show parties? Would everything be more intimate like late nights making music in the house in Laurel Canyon? Or would you go back to that moment of comfort and calm that rehearsals in Chuck's garage provided?

As you arrived at Billy's house, you saw that the backyard had been transformed into a lively gathering. The scent of grilled burgers and hot dogs wafted through the air, mixed with the sounds of laughter and chatter.

As you approach the house, you can hear the sound of music drifting from the backyard, soon you recognize 'Regret Me'. Stepping through the sliding glass door, you see a lively scene unfolding before you. Daisy is in the midst of a spirited conversation with Julia, Warren and Lisa were sitting on a patio set, chatting animatedly with Graham, catching up on old times. In the distance, you could see their two young daughters playing tag with Daisy's daughter, their high-pitched giggles filling the air.

Your eyes disobey you or on the contrary, obey your hidden desires, and search the place for Eddie Roundtree and when you manege to see him walking towards you your heart skips a beat, nervousness filling your chest.

Roundtree approaches you awkwardly, reviewing the words he had rehearsed so many times in his head imagining this reunion. But before he can get to you, Warren arrives excitedly hugging you on impulse.

"Y/N!" He exclaims, excited to see you again. "We missed you so much, never disappear like that again!"

"I promise not!" You say hugging him back, you notice Eddie closer to you and turn to him. "Hey Roundtree, long time no see..."

"Yeah, how are you L/N?" Her name sounded so good in his voice, like it used to."You look gorgeous."

"Thank you." You feel a shiver in your belly, having his gaze on you was as powerful as ever. "You're not so bad yourself."

You all move to a table near the pool, Lisa was there when she sees you, she gets up to greet you with a warm hug. As Warren and you catch up, you immediately fall into a comfortable conversation. You talk about everything from your favorite music to your upcoming plans. It's clear to everyone watching that you both have a deep connection.

Eddie can't help but feel jealous as he watches the two of you. He remembers when you used to talk to him like that, but those days are long gone and he missed it like crazy. His thoughts were on the memories that remain you, he remembered the nights you spent together talking about everything and nothing at the same time,he remembered how amazing it was to make you laugh at his joke, he wanted to get that back with you but had no idea where to start and how to do it.

He decides to interrupt your conversation with Rojas, hoping to get your attention. "Hey, Y/N," he says, "Remember that time we went to that concert together, the one where you got lost and I spent the whole show trying to find you in the crowd?"

A smile opens on her face as she remembers the day he mentioned, "Of course I remember, certainly one of the best days of my life. I still can't believe we made it out of there alive," you reply, laughing."

As Eddie watches Warren and you talking and laughing together, he can't help but feel a pang of jealousy and longing in his chest. He remembers the times when it used to be him making you laugh, the way you looked at him with those bright, beautiful eyes that made his heart skip a beat. He remembers the feeling of your warmth next to him, the way your hand fit perfectly in his, and the sound of your voice in his ear as your talked about everything and anything.

But those memories are distant now, and he can't help but feel like he's lost something special. He watches as Warren effortlessly makes you laugh, and he can't help but compare himself to the drummer. Warren has everything he doesn't - a stable family, a successful career, and now, a closeness with you that Eddie can only dream of having again.

As Eddie sits there, lost in his thoughts, he can't help but see parallels between the past and the present. The way you laugh at Warren's jokes is so similar to the way you used to laugh at his, and the way you interact reminds him of the way he and you used to do so. It's like looking into a mirror and seeing what he's lost, what was so distant now.

Just then, Eddie decides he needs to get away. He tells everyone he's going to get a drink and leaves the table, his frustration and longing weighing heavily on him. As he makes his way to the fridge, he can't help but replay the memories of you two in his mind, wishing he could go back in time and make things different.

He listens to the side conversation which was just a rumbling noise that wasn't enough to silence his saboteur thoughts. He stares several times at the fridge in front of him, staring at the drinks without knowing how to get out of the situation or at least get away from this feeling that was growing in him.

Lisa noticed Roundtree far from the group and when he left to get a drink she became concerned about the whole situation, and decided to go talk to him. She approaches him and touches his shoulder, making him turn to the actress.

"Everything alright?" She asks, a smile on her face mixed with her concerned features. "You seemed airy back there." She points out.

"I'm sorry to ask but, doesn't it bother you?" He nods discreetly to the scene of Warren and you talking.

Lisa turns to look at what he's pointing at, arching her eyebrows as she turns back to the bassist. "What, Warren and Y/N?"

Eddie just nods, a little embarrassed at his question. Lisa takes a drink and opens it, handing it to Eddie she leans on the bar next to them and takes a sip of hers. "Warren and Y/N have grown closer over the last few years and I've grown closer to her too, she's like a sister to our family. I'm used to it, maybe at first I was a little jealous but I know my husband is crazy about me." She chuckles, making Eddie opening a shy smile.

He thinks about what to say, but stays quiet, still analyzing his thoughts. "But why the question?" Lisa asks, wanting to understand why the man is uncomfortable.

Eddie takes a deep breath, trying to find the right words to express his thoughts. "It's just... seeing them together, it reminds me of what I lost," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lisa nods understandingly. "You mean your relationship with Y/N?"

Eddie nods in response, taking a sip of the drink Lisa had given him. "I just... I don't know how to talk to her. Things ended so badly between us and I don't want to make things worse, but I also don't want it to end it up like that."

Lisa puts a comforting hand on Eddie's shoulder. "Have you tried reaching out to her? Maybe talking things through could help you both, I'm sure she would be happy to talk to you."

Eddie shakes his head. "I'm not that sure, She was really disappointed that day... I don't know if she'd want to talk to me about it."

Lisa takes another sip of her drink and looks at Eddie with a serious expression. "Look, I know that Y/N and you have some unresolved issues, and that's why you're feeling uneasy. But you know what I've learned over the years? Love is a tricky thing, and sometimes you have to take a leap of faith if you want to make it work."

Eddie nods slowly, taking in her words.

"I remember when Warren and I first started dating, I was so afraid to let my guard down and really let myself fall in love. But then I realized that if I didn't take a chance, I might miss out on something really special. And I'm so glad I did, because we have a beautiful life together."

She pauses for a moment, looking off into the distance. "And I know that Y/N is worth taking a risk for. If you think there's still something there between you two, then you owe it to yourself to at least try and talk to her. Who knows? Maybe it could be the start of something great."

Eddie looks at her, his mind racing with thoughts and emotions. He takes a deep breath and nods. "You're good at giving advice huh." He says with a slight smile.

"I try, have one with me and use the courage of alcohol to talk to her." She says holding out her bottle for him to toast, he does, clinking his bottle against hers.

As they take a sip, Eddie feels a sense of calm wash over him. He knows what he needs to do, and he's grateful for Lisa's words of encouragement.

"Thanks, Lisa. I appreciate it," he says, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Anytime," she replies with a warm smile. "Now go talk to Y/N. I have a feeling she's been waiting for this conversation for a long time."

Eddie nods, taking one last swig of his drink before setting it down on the bar. He takes a deep breath and turns to make his way over to you, ready to finally have that long overdue conversation.

You notice Lisa and Eddie talking before Lisa returns to Rojas, snuggling into his embrace. Rojas smiles and wraps his arms around his wife's waist, kissing her forehead before she whispers something in his ear. You catch a glimpse of Warren smirking and licking his lips before he stands up.

"I'll be right back, kids," he says with a chuckle.

Lisa guides Rojas to a more secluded spot and whispers to him, "Go for it," nodding in your direction. You don't notice, but Roundtree does, and he looks over at you with a small smile, he takes a deep breath before sitting down next to you.

Feeling his heart beating fast in his chest. He clears his throat before speaking. "So you and Warren, pretty good friends huh?" he asks, trying to keep his tone casual.

You raise your eyebrows and chuckles. "If I didn't know you so well I'd say you're jealous, Eddie Roundtree." You say, teasing him.

Eddie can't help but smile at your words. "Jealousy is a very strong word, maybe, but just maybe it bothered me a little bit," he admits, looking at you with a look that longed to see your reaction and he feels the butterflies in his stomach dance when he hears you laugh at what he said.

You look at Eddie, a smile playing on your lips. "Well, if you're bothered, you can just say so." You says, teasing him a bit.

Eddie smiles back, feeling a bit more relaxed. "I guess I am a little jealous." He admits, looking at you. "I mean, we used to be close like that, you and me."

You nod, understanding where he's coming from. "Yeah, we were. But things change, Eddie."

"I know. And I'm not trying to say that you shouldn't be friends with Warren or anything like that. It's just..." He trails off, not really sure how to put his feelings into words.

"Just what?" You prompt him, your eyes fixed on his.

"Just that...I miss you, gorgeous." Eddie says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You didn't know what to answer, so you just stared at him letting him speak. "I know that day you expected more from me, and I know everything got really messed up between us but I feel like there's so much we haven't talked about..." Eddie said quickly, and you noticing the anxiety building in him take one of your hands, conveying comfort.

He looks at your hand next to his and smiles, stroking your fingers and then continues. "I missed you every day since that day, I decided not to look for you because you didn't seem to want me around. I confess, I wasn't ready to see that disappointment look on your face again."

You take a deep breath and look at Eddie, the guilt weighing heavily on your heart. "Eddie, Don't put all the blame on yourself" you say, pausing for a moment to collect your thoughts. "I know that I played a part in everything that happened between us. It wasn't just you, it was me too."

Eddie looks at you, concern etched on his face waiting for you to continue.

"That day, I was so focused on my own insecurities and fears that I couldn't see past them," you say, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I didn't see that you were hurting too, that you were struggling just as much as I was."

Eddie's hand tightens around yours, and you squeeze back, grateful for the support. "I felt so insufficient, like I wasn't enough for you to want to stay and follow our dream," you continue, your voice shaking slightly. "And I took that out on you. I know now that it was wrong, and I'm so sorry for hurting you as well."

Eddie looks at you, a mixture of emotions on his face. "Y/N, don't say that. You were more than enough, you were my partner, my muse, my reason for living. But I can see why you felt that way, and I'm sorry for not making it all clear."

"It's okay..." you smile, resting your head on his shoulder, he smiles at the contact and you remain silent for a few seconds.

Eddie notices a guitar leaning in a farther corner, he excuses you and goes towards it soon returning with it. You watch him carefully, he starts strumming the instrument and it doesn't take long to recognize the melody.

"Do you remember this one we wrote together?" It keeps playing, humming the melody you created. "Our vacation after we had shot Aurora, the summer we spent in Malibu, just you and me?"

Y/N's eyes light up, "Of course I do. 'Lost in the Sun,' right?"

"I remember it like it was yesterday." He says laughing, and you watched him feeling that butterflies in your stomach that only he knew how to cause. "I woke up without you in bed, I looked for you all over the house and you were on the beach with the guitar in your hand, I sat by your side and listened to what you had composed so far."

"I honestly thought it was awful." You laugh, shyly remembering the occasion.

"It was the first time I heard you sing alone." He says and you are surprised by this information. "You asked me to help you complete the song but I stopped you..."

"That's when you told me you loved me for the first time." Involuntarily some tears appeared in your eye, you were sensitive remembering everything. "We didn't quite finish the song though, did we?" You ask, trying to remember exactly what happened that day.

Eddie grins at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh right, I remember now. We got a little distracted, didn't we?"

You roll your eyes playfully, a smirk on your lips. "A little? We totally forgot about the song!"

He chuckles, leaning in closer to you. "Hey, I think we were both pretty busy with other things," he says, his voice low and suggestive.

You giggle, swatting his arm lightly. "We were young and in love, what can I say?"

"That's exactly what I've been missing, you know?" He says smiling and you tighten your grip on his hand. "I've never felt so connected with someone as I did and feel with you."

"Eddie..." You didn't know exactly what to say to him, or what he wanted by saying that to you.

"You don't have to make any commitments to me." He assures you and involuntarily you ease up a little. "I know time has passed and well, things change. But promise me that at least this song we'll finish, please."

"I'd love to finish this with you Roundtree." You answer and he gets a bigger smile on his face.

You get up when you hear Daisy calling you from afar to talk to her and Graham, you say goodbye to Eddie and say you'll be right back but before leaving you turn to him again. "Our connection is unique, only you and I can reproduce. And I sure as hell won't let it die in Chicago." You say before heading towards the redhead

Eddie can't contain his smile, the feeling of anticipation rising inside him. He could feel all that Chicago had taken from him finally being released, as if now after so many years he had the chance to access all the "what ifs" he had created, he knew he couldn't screw things up now and he would do anything to make sure you never regretted the two of you.

...

Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo

Want to be tagged when new stories come out?

REASONSMANDY'S TAG LIST

#djats #daisy jones and the six #djats x reader #eddie roundtree x reader #eddie roundtree x fem!reader #eddie roundtree x y/n #eddie roundtree #eddie x y/n #eddie loving #eddie x fem!reader #daisy jones and the six fanfic #the dunne brothers #daisy jones & the six #daisy jones and the 6 #the six #joshua whitehouse #josh whitehouse #djatsedit #djats spoilers

126 notes · View notes