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#rain knows what's happening later right?...right?

fiveredlights · 2 days

Note

I saw you mentioned you liked kid fic and had bookmarks— do you have any reccs for maxiel kid fics?❤️❤️

do i ever!!!! one thing about me is that i will eat kid fics up, like i think i’ve read about all the tagged kid fics in the maxiel tag. i love seeing what names authors choose for their children and it just makes me happy. here's a couple and if you want more lmk!

listen to the slow parts by @nobrakesdown [T-7.2k]

Neither Max or Daniel are the one to find the baby. That honor belongs to Christian, and Christian alone.

a lil you, a lil me, a perfect being by 3_33 (@maxcuntstappen) [G-4.8k]

The three of them stand outside, looking at the entrance, August in the middle, clutching tightly onto Max and Daniel’s hands.

“Okay, I need you both to repeat after me.”

“Daniel, we already did this in the car. Can we please just go in?” Max asks, desperately, which only confirms to Daniel the need to remind all of them of the ground rules.

“Baby, please. We need to remember, okay? We are here to meet some new friends and play with them. It is okay if we don’t meet anybody we like. We can always come again. There is no need for us to be upset. Yeah?”

“Yes, Daddy,” August says and drops his hand to give Daniel a mock salute and Daniel really didn’t know he could love someone so much.

“Max,” Daniel implores, knowing that it is as important that his husband acknowledges the plan as much as their kid.

“Yes, yes, Daniel, okay,” Max rolls his eyes but nods in agreement.

“Okay, let’s do this,” Daniel says. The three of them walk in through the doors.

Or: Daniel and Max visit an animal shelter for their son, August's fourth birthday. Daniel is apprehensive. Max and August are vibrating out of their skin.

That's Where I Am by @flawlessassholes [E-47.8k-6/8]

“Her name is Emily,” Daniel says softly. Max’s eyes snap down to the baby, still sleeping on Daniel’s chest. It’s—she’s snoring a little. In that snuffly way that babies snore. “Short for Emilian.” His eyes snap back to Daniel’s face, so serious, and Max knows it’s a joke, of course, but he still opens his mouth to say— Then Daniel’s face breaks into that wide grin, the real one, the one Max hasn’t seen since. Well. In a while. It feels at once so familiar, and also like seeing something rise from the dead.

There’s a month between Melbourne and Baku. A month to convince Daniel to return to racing. A month to learn and relearn how to love. A month for everything to feel right amidst a season that has felt nothing but wrong. A month to create a family, and a month to maybe lose it all.

keep me in the open by Aurelia (Lily_Rizzy) (@lilyrizzy) [E-11.7k]

"Chrissy Baker sounds like a cunt,” Daniel says, then cringes at the pointed look his mum shoots him. “What? It’s not like they’re old enough to repeat that yet.”

Grace laughs, the sound audible now over Livia’s cries, which are quickly fading into miserable whimpers. Of course, she behaves for grandma, and not the dad who dotes on her endlessly, feeds her, cuddles her, and wipes her smelly ass.

“Three words, Daniel,” she says, eyebrows raised. “Cash, money, bitches.”

or, Daniel navigates bed times, bath times and jealousy, while Max races his last season in Formula One

summer sun after the rain by gentleau [T-11.7k]

“Papà? Is Max your friend?” “He used to be.”

then you came by beforemidnight [G-4.5k]

Daniel looks at Max swiftly but pointedly. Smiling, he looks back at the camera. “Marrying him was the easiest decision of my life.”

(don't let) the days go by citydreaming (@thewindowatkirkland) [M-11.3k]

“Hey” Daniel says “thanks for coming over.”

“Is now a good time? If you are busy I can come back later.”

“Now is fine, she’s already asleep so we should be able to talk without being interrupted.”

“Talk about how you have a daughter.”

Daniel bites his lip nervously “yeah, about that.”

OR: single dad daniel returns to the grid for one final year with red bull, max doesn’t plan on falling in love with him and his daughter, but somehow it happens anyway.

#i have also gone through all 187 pages of the maxiel tag alphabetically by author but we don’t need to talk about that #me my ao3 bookmarks and google sheets against the world #f1 fic rec #maxiel

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beeloovedd · 1 day

Note

id love to hear about phantom and his ocd

Hi I'm sorry this took me literal months to get too 🙏

Ive had this sitting unfinished in my drafts untill now so I hope this is ok 🫶

After show

Tw: dissociation, flinching, OCD

Phantom sighs softly with a smile as the song ends and everyone cheers

He walks back to put his guitar away to go bow and pick up things from fans

He puts the guitar down then picks it up and puts it down again

Then again

He bites his tounge then taps the guitar then taps it again, leaving a small smidge on the shiny black guitar

He smiles and runs back out just in time to bow

Hes between Sodo and Mountain with his hands in theirs

He bows then everyone cheers and claps and with a big smile on his face he throws a few picks and a few setlists into the crowd

Then the show finally ends and the lights begin to fade to black

Everyone runs Backstage cheering that they did good and talking about some of the things that happened on stage

Everyone goes to help pack up, get food or go back to the bus to change

Phantom goes right to the bus zoned out yet somehow (and thankfully) his legs know where to go, he feels bad that he's not helping but he can barely register anything in his mind right now

He walks into the bus and stands there for a second, long, tired blinks as he tries to get his mind back into reality enough to know what to do or say when everyone else comes back

He shivers and walks over to his bunk to get some clean clothes

A few seconds later Phantom flinches as Mountain comes out in some casual pants and a loose t-shirt holding his sweat drenched stage outfit

"good show today bug" Mountain says as he squeezes Phantom's shoulder gently as he walks by to put his clothes in the hamper in case they stop at a hotel

"you did good too" Phantom says with a tired smile

He hums quietly as walks into the bathroom and changes into something more comfortable

He gets dressed in a loose t-shirt and some sweatpants then goes to lay in his bunk with a quiet sigh

He hears Mountain leave to go help put away the equipment and ask Papa if they'll sleep in the bus or go to a hotel

He feels bad about not helping, maybe he should, it's rude if he doesn't

But before he even gets the chance to get up everyone comes in talking, laughing and joking with each other

Papa walks in last, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead, papal paints smeared and his jacket draped over his arm with his old cup of coffee from earlier in his hand

The other ghouls either lay in their bunks, change, eat or are taking off their facepaint

Copia walks to go change into something more comfortable and slightly less sweaty once the restroom is free, but first

He looks over to phantom while putting his things down

"are you ok, Phantom?" Copia asks while looking at phantom with a small tired smile

Phantom nods and smiles back

"Yea, tired" phantom says as he lays back

Copia smiles and puts his hand on Phantom's arm

"We're going to a hotel tonight" copia says as he pats phantoms arm then leaves to go change

Eventually everyone gets settled, packing clothes, getting things for a shower and filling the hamper

Then they get to the hotel

Phantom gets his smaller suitcase and is one of the first ones in the hotel

They all check in and decide who's staying where

Cirrus, Cumulus and Aroura together

Dew, Rain and Mountain together

And Phantom, Swiss and Copia together

As soon as they get into their rooms Phantom practically faceplant on the bed

Swiss laughs and Copia chuckles

Swiss lays next to him and puts a hand on his back rubbing it soothingly

"you ok bug?" Swiss asks with a gentle smile

Phantom hums out a quiet

"mhm"

And nods

Swiss pulls him into his arms and phantom lays his head on Swiss's chest

Copia leaves to go shower and leaves the two ghouls alone

Phantom mutters something quietly and Swiss leans down to try and hear

"what was that?" He asks, placing a gentle kiss to the quint ghouls forehead

"Does your mind ever get too.....much?" Phantom asks, listing to Swiss's gentle heartbeat as he lays on his chest

Swiss smiles, concerned yet happy he's not bottling it up this time

"Yea sometimes it does" he says as he runs a hand through Phantoms hair

"But you know you can talk to us about it anytime right? We're all here for you bug" Swiss says caressing Phantom's cheek gently

"I know" Phantom says quietly

Swiss smiles and relaxed into the bed, the tiredness from today's show hitting him

He starts to drift in and out of sleep until Phantom speaks

"I love you" Phantom says, words slurring due to him drifting off to sleep as well

Swiss smiles and plays with his hair tiredly

"I love you too Phantom"

🫶

#Phantom Ghoul #Swiss Ghoul #Mountain Ghoul #papa copia #papa emeritus iv #ocd phantom #the band ghost #ghostband #ghost #ghost band

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loveluvrs · 15 days

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the slip up l lando norris x reader

request/summary – lando and reader are in a secret established relationship, until lando accidentally slips up on stream

author's notes – first piece of writing, feedback appreciated!!! this is just my thoughts written down honestly, i didn’t have much idea where i was going with it so enjoy.

Max was streaming with Lando at his place. Lando drags his feet over to the stream room, sitting on a chair next to Max. He was scrolling on his phone, trying to pass the time.

“Mate, I’m gonna leave, you’re being so boring,” Lando joked under his breath as he ran a hand through his hair.

“I’ll make things more interesting then. Chat, wanna know something really interesting about Lando?” Max asked with a mischievous smile as he looked back at Lando. Lando watched with suspicion of what max could say next.

“Lando’s got a secret girlfriend,” Max sings to annoy Lando. Lando’s eyes shot up, his heart pounding as he turned off his phone, the same phone he was using to text you, his girlfriend. “I don’t, chat, don’t listen to him. He’s just trying to piss me off,” Lando says as he shoots Max a glare.

—————

A few months later, everyone has chalked up that interaction to Max simply trying to annoy and rile up Lando, and no one thought much of it. On a miracle of a night in spring, Lando was in Monaco and decided to stream. He had a hoodie on, his hair all messy, but a smile on his face. About an hour into the stream, I knock on the door of his stream room quietly. Lando immediately turned off his video and mic, telling chat to give him a minute.

I walk in, a black slip dress on with a cropped white cardigan, my hair and makeup done all fancy. “Hi, baby,” Lando says as he pulls me in by the waist, onto his lap. “Girls night tonight, right?” He says with a soft smile. He always makes sure to pay attention to anything I’ve mentioned to him, including my plans to hang out with Lily and Carmen tonight, Alex and George’s girlfriends.

I hum in response. “Yeah, we’re gonna get dinner and then take some Instagram photos,” I say as I stand up from his lap, “you like the dress? It’s new.” I give him a little twirl to show off the dress.

Lando smiles brightly. “I love it, baby, you look gorgeous. Like always,” he says as he leans in for a kiss. “Text me when you’re done and need me to pick you up, yeah?” I nod and smile.

Once I leave, Lando puts his headset back on, turning his mic and camera back on. He scrunches up his face as he’s met by shouting from Max into his headset. “What’s your problem, man?” Lando asks with confusion. Max sighs. “Lando, you had your mic on the whole time. People heard that whole conversation and I was trying to tell you but as always, you ignored me,” Max says with some frustration in his voice, but mostly amusement.

“Oh,” Lando says as he realizes what has happened. Not knowing what to do, Lando panics and ends stream.

When my friends and I reach the restaurant, we find it pouring rain, which was the most of our worries since the restaurant was outdoor. With frowns, we all pile back into the car and drive ourselves home. I arrive home only twenty minutes after I left, my dress soaked. My brows furrow in confusion to see Lando on the couch on his phone when i come back, and not on stream.

I slip off my shoes. “I thought you were streaming?” I ask softly as I make my way over to him. “What happened to you? You’re all soaked! Here, let me get you a towel and you can get dressed into some of my hoodie and sweats to get comfy,” Lando says, trying to avoid the fact that he had just live streamed his whole conversation with his girlfriend.

I saw the panic in Lando’s eyes. “Stop,” I say as I stood in front of him, “what did you do?” Lando shoots me a bright grin. “I love you, babe. So so much. And you know I’d do anything for you.” This made me even more suspicious. “Lan,” I say as my eyes narrowed.

“Okay, okay. I might have forgotten to mute my mic when we were talking right before you left. I swear I thought I had turned it off!” He says as he panics before beginning to ramble. “And I called you baby, and gorgeous, and your voice was heard too. And Max was telling me the whole time through my headset, but it was off and even if it were on, you know I don’t think about anything else when I’m with you. And there were thousands of people on the stream and you specifically told me you wanted to keep it private because you didn’t want to get hate crimed by the fans and you wouldn’t be able to handle it and I mean, I wanted to but it just slipped and im so so sorry but-“ He stops in confusion when a giggle escapes my lips. “Why aren’t you upset?” He asks slowly.

I smile as I slip my arms around his neck, his hands instinctively wrapping around my waist. “Well. Number one, you’re cute when you panic. Number two, no one saw me, so it’s okay. I mean, considering how in love you are with me, they were bound to find out at some point that you had a girlfriend,” I tease with a smile tugging at my lips.

He scoffs and rolls his eyes playfully at me. “Okay, yeah. I am absolutely in love with you. Still, you’re not bothered by this?” he asks slowly, hesitation lacing his voice.

“I promise I’m not. It was a mistake. Plus, that just means it’s gonna be all the more fun trying to watch them figure out who it is you’re dating,” I say playfully with a giggle.

“That’s true,” Lando says softly with a hum, “I love you.”

“I love you too. Although, don’t make me have to have you on adult supervision every time you stream now to make sure nothing else slips out of your mouth,” I tease as I playfully poke his side.

“Ah! Okay okay, promise,” he says with a giggle as he leans in for a gentle and loving kiss.

#lando norris x reader #lando norris imagines #lando norris oneshot #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic

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hedgehog-moss · 7 months

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Pampérigouste escaped today and I almost didn't make a post about it because it's just more of the same isn't it? do people who read this blog really want to hear about yet another Pampe escape? Then I thought, that's like asking if people who read detective novels really want to hear about yet another mysterious murder. Probably yes. Also Pampe would have been offended to have such a successful escape go unreported.

I would like to say that my new fence is still fully Pampe-proof. She has not escaped a single time through breaking or outsmarting the fence, so now she does it by outsmarting me. Which doesn't happen all that often, because we are intellectual equals. But I let my guard down this morning—I'd just peeled some greenhouse carrots to make purée and I went into the pasture to distribute the peelings even though it was raining (see how I got punished for my selflessness?), and I left the gate open because I was right in front of it, obstructing it with my body.

Pampe dropped her carrot peelings and acted like she couldn't find them even though they were right under her feet, so I took pity on her and crouched down to gather them and offer them to her again (see how I'm getting punished for my compassion??) and she took advantage of this diversion. In the span of 0.2 seconds she slithered around me and she was out. It was a little bit beautiful. I don't know if you remember this photo of Pampe & Pyrgus, but it's a perfect illustration of what happened:

I sighed and ignored her and finished distributing the peelings to the other animals, and then went to the barn to get muesli to lure my nuisance back to her pasture. After escaping she initially ran towards the woods, but since I ignored her the whole time, she emerged from the woods when I returned, like, wait, did you notice I escaped? Behind your back, just earlier? Did you notice how I won and you lost?

It shouldn't have been difficult to get her back into the pasture with the help of her favourite snack; unfortunately Pampoldine is still a big baby who was distraught that her mum had left her behind yet again (she should be used to it, honestly, it's been like this since she was an infant), she started making these little panicky noises that Pampe has never paid any attention to—

—so when I propped the gate open with a branch to get Pampe back inside, Poldine hurried out instead. I wasn't expecting this, I thought it was clear that I had the situation under control and her mum would be back in 5 seconds. You could have just waited 5 seconds, Poldine.

Pampelune had no interest in escaping, but she's the matriarch and where her herd goes, she goes, so once the other two were out she barrelled past me as well. I opened the gate to bring 1 llama in and instead 2 llamas went out. Pirlouit besides me was like

For some reason the llamas galloped towards the road, instead of just hanging out in the woods where there's stuff to eat. Maybe because Pampe hadn't gone out in a long time and she wanted to be admired for her feat. Her wish was granted—2 cars stopped to say hi as I was miserably trotting after my llamas on the road in the rain. One of them was the post office lady who once herded my animals out of a pasture with her car, and she was like hop in, it'll be like old times!!!

The two people who stopped their car were enchanted with the encounter and they both told me that they missed the days when Pampe Sightings on this road were a regular thing. No one sides with my fence in the Pampe v. Fence conflict. I love the post office lady though, she had a Niagara song playing in her car when I got in and a minute later I muttered "I'll sell her to the butcher" and she started singing "Pampe ♪ Je vais devoir te vendre au boucher ♫" to the tune of that song. It fit the tune really well, too.

After we managed to get the llamas off the main road and back in the woods, she was like, godspeed, I wish I could continue chasing them with you but I have to go make lunch for my kids. I told her that now that the llamas were no longer on the road I'd just let them roam, they'll come home before night, no way I'm going to chase after them in the woods in this dog weather. So I went home and grumpily resumed peeling carrots and potatoes for my mash.

I sat in front of the window to do it so I could keep an eye on Pirlouit, who was wandering around the pasture like a cursed soul, drenched with rain, lonely and llamaforsaken. Sometimes he brayed to try and guide his friends back home, wherever they were, but he never brayed while I was filming. His braying is a poignant display of emotion and is not for public consumption.

I figured, if the llamas come back Pirou will spot them and perk up his immense ears, and I'll know to go out and open the gate. Instead at some point I looked up from my potatoes and saw my donkey finally at peace, grazing rather than pacing restlessly, and I went to look outside and his friends were back! And so was his appetite.

I had new peelings + some muesli to offer, but of course Pampe could tell this offering was a crude and blatant trap and refused to fall for it. Meanwhile her innocent daughter was like yay, snacks :) and followed me in the pasture, a llama entirely devoid of wiles.

After I got Poldine back inside I went like WELL since NOBODY else wants that delicious MUESLI I guess these deserving chickens can have it—and Pampe was here in the blink of an eye to shoo the hens away from her muesli.

She was grudgingly smiling about it, too. Like, point for you.

I love this pic where my chicken looks like she's herding the animals back in their pasture all by herself.

Everyone is home! Pampe and Pandolf are walking away in search of new adventures, Poldine follows her mum because of her abandonment issues, and Pirlouit is also following everyone very closely, like, I'm not getting left behind again.

I finally managed to cook my mashed carrots & potatoes (+ herbs from the greenhouse) and it's so nice to make food with nothing but ingredients you grew yourself! (To be completely honest I only managed to grow 3 carrots in the past few months but that's because I neglected them in pursuit of more flashy summer vegetables)

I also had an apple-plum compote for dessert made with my own fruit <3 Okay, the cheese course in between was store-bought. One of my friends really wants me to get goats and be self-sufficient in cheese and when I told her I would be constantly chasing my goats over hill and dale because they have a reputation to be insufferable escape artists she was like, what difference will it make to your life...

#crawling along #llama drama

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joelsgreys · 3 months

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mornings like these

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: There’s a reason you’re always late to morning patrol. That reason’s name is Joel Miller.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION, NO AGE SPECIFIED FOR READER. established relationship though it’s lightly implied it’s a fairly new relationship, hints of fluff, hints of smut, morning wood, very brief mentions of oral sex (female receiving) and fingering.

word count: < 1k

a/n: this is quite literally nothing. just a blurb i wrote in 20 ish or so minutes. it could have been a whole thing, but i am in the middle of editing a long wip update. i needed a break from it and this happened. hardly any plot, hardly any porn, what would you even call this? lol

You wake with a gentle start, your eyes fluttering open.

Sunlight filters in through the sheer white curtains.

Soft. Warm. Golden.

A strong arm tightens around you.

“Mm,” he mumbles from beside you. “S’nice.”

His voice is deeper than usual, thick with sleep.

You’re still getting used to it. To mornings like these.

Waking up next to him—with him.

Naked in his bed, wrapped in his sheets, in his arms.

You’re laying on your side, your back against his chest.

You feel him already, hard on curve of your ass.

Suddenly, all you can think about is the night before.

Every deep, swollen kiss he gave you.

Every sweet, loving word he’d whispered to you.

Every minute of every hour he’d spent worshiping your body like he was getting to know it for the first time all over again.

“It is nice,” you agree with him, exhaling a small sigh of content. Finding his large hand splayed over your lower belly, you lace your fingers together with his, the same long, thick fingers that stretched the tight walls of your aching cunt all night long. “After three days of pouring rain, this is very nice. It almost makes me look forward to going out on patrol.”

Chuckling softly, Joel nuzzles his nose into your bare shoulder, deeply inhaling the subtle, delicate scent of milk and honey soap. “Don’t mean the weather, sweet girl.”

You raise an eyebrow. “No?”

He gently nips at your flesh with his teeth. “Nope.”

“Then what do you mean?” you press, innocently.

As if you don’t already know.

“This.” There’s a brief pause. “Wakin’ up with you.”

Giggling, you tease, “You’ve gone soft for me, Miller.”

“And so what if I have?” He’s grinning, you can feel it.

Slowly, he begins to lower your intertwined hands and drags them further down your belly.

You know what he’s doing. The man is insatiable.

“Joel,” you utter his name breathlessly.

“What is it, honey?” he coos into the nape of your neck.

Oh yes, you know exactly what he’s doing.

Pulling your hand out of his, you roll onto your back and turn your head, your nose lightly bumping his. “Don’t start,” you warn him in the sternest voice you can possibly muster.

There’s a mischievous glimmer in his dark brown eyes.

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout, darlin’.”

His cock is rock hard, poking into your hip.

“We have patrol in an hou—”

Joel’s hand slips between your thighs and you’re cut off by the sound of your own loud gasp as he drags a finger languidly along your slick, warm folds.

He skims your jawline with his nose. “Now, what were you sayin’?”

“Oh my fuck,” you curse as he sinks his finger into your cunt, burying it to his knuckle. “Joel, Tommy will kill us if we’re late to our shift again—” You moan as he curls his finger upwards, your hips bucking up off of the bed and into his hand.

That’s where Joel Miller had you.

Right in the palm of his hand.

In every which way possible.

“I can stop,” he murmurs against your cheek, the scruff of his beard tickling your soft skin. “Just say the word, baby, and I’ll stop.”

You don’t tell him to stop.

Of course you don’t want him to stop.

You never, ever want him to stop.

Moments later, Joel’s head is between your thighs and he’s devouring your cunt like he’s having breakfast. His tongue swirls around your clit, his fingers thrusting in and out of your pussy, a mere warm up before you take his throbbing cock.

Hands tangled in his graying, dark brown curls, you forget all about getting to patrol on time.

divider credit to @saradika 🤍

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller blurb #joel miller drabble #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

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triptuckers · 4 months

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the comfort of home - percy jackson

Request: yes! "Hii, I just finished watching both episodes of PJO and I wept as I beheld Sally's maternal love unfold on the screen, knowing it before hand from the books. Thus, I was pondering if you might entertain a request—a tale where a daughter of Hades (angsty) forges a close bond with Percy, and Sally, in her gracious warmth bless her soul, adopts her into their lives because, after all, they're nearly kin, entwined by the delicate threads of almost-cousinhood." Pairing: percy jackson x hades!reader Summary: after a typical day for a demigod, you just need a safe space to go Warnings: mentions of fighting, injuries, blood, throwing up, swearing, angst Word count: 2k A/N: first of all anon are you a writer?????? bro those words..... pls write more !! thanks for your request, enjoy!

you're walking down the streets of new york city, feeling utterly miserable. you're soaked through because of the rain and you're hurt.

everyone knows that demigods don't exactly live a quiet life. especially kids from zeus, poseidon or hades. still, most of the times you're fighting for your life you're on a quest.

not simply on your way home.

but today was different. somehow you brought not one but all three of the furies down on you. you don't even know how, you weren't doing anything.

it was a tough fight, but you stood strong. you couldn't prevent the dozen little cuts that littered your body. you're bruised over and on top of that it started to rain, messing with your sight.

right now you're on your way to your foster home. but it's a slow journey. you're not sure you want to go there. and you're not sure how much the mist hides for them.

sometimes if you got home all bruised you told them you got in a fight. sometimes they didn't spare you a second glance.

you stop in the middle of the street. at this point you've been walking for so long you don't even notice the rain anymore.

you turn around, heading another way. there's one other place you could go. you're lost in thought, and most of the people don't pay you any attention. perks of living in new york, you guess. new yorkers just don't care.

when you get to the familiar building, you feel a sense of calm coming over you. somehow you always found yourself back here. as you walk up to the entrance, someone leaves just as you arrive, so you can slip in the door before it closes.

you walk the stairs slowly because of your injuries. every step hurts and takes tremendous effort.

when you finally get to the right floor and walk to the door, you just stand in front of it. you're fully aware you're dripping rainwater on the floor, but suddenly you can't bring yourself to knock.

why are you even here? you don't want to be a burden.

they've told you that you can always come over, no matter what. but it's late at night, it's raining outside, you're soaked.

you're standing there, debating wether or not to go in, when you hear a voice on the other side of the door.

the person is softly singing along to a song that's playing.

tears well up in your eyes as you recognise the song. you were the one to recommend it.

you raise your hand and knock on the door.

'coming!' says the voice.

moments later the door opens to reveal a woman.

her eyes briefly widen at the sight of you, scanning your body for injuries. then her eyes soften.

'oh, what happened to you, sweetheart?' says sally.

her gentle voice is what pushes you over the edge, breaking down in tears in front of her.

sally pulls you over the doorstep and closes the door. she pulls you into a hug, not caring that you're soaked.

you wrap your arms around her and cry. you let all of the anxiety rush out of you as sally rubs circles on your back and whispers soft words in your ear. you ignore your aching body and allow yourself to just be here in the moment.

after a while, sally pulls back and holds you at an arms length.

'I'm so sorry for dropping in like this, miss jackson.' you say softly.

'y/n, you know you're always welcome here. and I've told you to call me sally.' she says kindly.

you nod. 'is percy home?'

'he's out to the movies with grover. do you want me to ask him to come home?'

'no, he's out having fun. it's alright. could I just..'

'why don't you take a shower first, hm? I bet you're freezing.'

you sigh softly. that does sound good.

'yeah, alright.'

'you go take a shower, then I'll make tea and see if I can do something about that.'

she pointedly looks at the cut above your brow. you totally forgot that was there.

'I don't have any clothes.' you say softly.

'that's alright, just borrow some from percy. he won't mind.' says sally.

'thank you.'

you walk towards percy's room to get some clothes when sally calls your name, making you turn around again.

'you're not a burden, you know that right. we love having you over.' says sally.

you swallow back the new tears that threaten to fall. sometimes you forget she knows you so well.

'thanks.' you say, entering percy's room to get some clothes.

you pick a shirt, sweater and sweatpants form percy's closet before going into the bathroom.

you peel your soaked clothes from your body, hissing when you pull the fabric from your wounds.

turning on the water, you get in the shower, letting the water calm you down. you wash off all of the dried blood, dirt and sweat.

after drying off you put on percy's clothes, his scent surrounding you and comforting you.

you head back to the living room to find sally putting two steaming mugs on the table.

'we still got your favorite.' she says, sliding your mug towards you.

'thanks.'

'drink up, and tell me about today if you want. I'll see if we have some medical stuff left in the kitchen.'

you sigh, thinking back to today.

'I didn't even do anything.' you say. 'I was just walking down the road and I got this feeling I was being watched. I thought it wasn't a big deal but hey, demigod instinct, so I took a turn and went into an alley. sure enough, someone followed me.'

'someone or something?' says sally, returning with the first aid kit.

'someone at first. then the mist cleared and it was one of the furies.' you say. 'at that point I was just so done. I wasn't even on a quest so what the hell was she doing there?'

'how did you get away? you've fought a fury before, percy told me.' says sally, scooting her chair closer to you so she can clean the cut on your forehead.

'I have. it's okay if it's one. but then the other two showed up.' you sigh. 'at that point I was really annoyed. I think it was just annoyance that drove me at that point. they were clearly there because they were bored. they thought "hey smells like demigod, oh look it's the hades kid, let's mess with her."

'well, you're here now. you made it out.' says sally, finishing with the cut on your forehead.

'yeah. thanks again.' you say, sipping your tea.

'you don't have to keep thanking me.' says sally. 'you know you're always welcome here, you're practically family. I know you don't like your foster home. now, do you have any other wounds?'

you chuckle. 'only about two dozen little cuts and even more bruises. I've had worse, it's okay.' you say.

'it's never okay.' says sally. 'you and percy are way too young for this.'

you shrug. 'and yet we have to deal with it.' you say, rolling up your sleeves so sally can clean and bandage the cuts on your arms.

the next hour is spent by sally cleaning your wounds and bandaging you up as she tells you stories. you liked hearing her stories. ever since you first met her, it was one of your favorite things about her. she could tell stories in a way that felt like you were actually there, experiencing them.

just as she secures the last bandage in place, you briefly close your eyes, exhaustion getting to you.

'you can get some sleep, I'll tell percy when he gets home.' says sally.

'it's okay, I want to see him before I go to bed.' you say.

'alright, want to watch a movie of something?'

'movie sounds great.'

sally picks a movie while you sit down on the couch. it doesn't take long for you to doze off, even though you fight to stay awake. the fight with the furies was intense, so sally lets you sleep while she waits for percy to home home.

about halfway through the movie, the door to the apartment opens and percy enters.

'hey mom.' he says, taking off his shoes and jacket and dumping his bag near the door.

as he walks into the room, he notices a familiar sword leaning against the back of the couch. he frowns, he didn't know you were coming.

'is y/n here?' he says, walking over to his mom.

she nods, pointing to the couch.

percy looks over the back of the couch to find you fast asleep, wearing his clothes and your body littered in bandages and bruises.

'what happened?' says percy, walking around the couch.

'the three furies.' says sally. 'she didn't feel like going to her foster home.'

percy kneels before the couch, studying your face. he reaches out and traces one of the bruises on your cheek.

you stir awake from the movement, your eyes meeting percy's.

'hi.' you say softly.

'hey. you alright?' he says.

you nod. 'how was the movie?'

percy chuckles. 'it was good. you would have loved it. heard you got in a fight?'

'yeah. those damned furies.' you say. 'luckily your mom patched me up though.'

'you know my bed is more comfortable than the couch, right?' says percy.

you slowly sit up. 'I know. I wanted to stay awake til you got home.'

'and you did a great job at that.' says percy with a familiar twinkle in his eyes.

you hit him on the shoulder. 'you would have fallen asleep as well!'

sally watches the exchange with a smile on her face. moments like these make her especially happy you met percy.

'come on.' says percy, standing up and holding out his hand for you to take.

you take it and allow percy to gently pull you to your feet.

'thanks again sally.' you say as percy beings leading you to his bedroom to sleep in an actual bed.

'no need to thank me y/n. it's always good to have you around, even if it's like this.'

you and percy both say goodnight to her before entering percy's room.

'so, did you sugarcoat the story for my mom?' he says as you sit down on this bed.

'not really, I just didn't tell her all of the details.' you say.

percy raises an eyebrow at you. 'details like?'

'like how one of them punched me in the gut and I nearly threw up because of it.' you say.

'ew.' says percy, face scrunching up in disgust.

'you would have thrown up as well.' you say.

'but you managed to fend off all three furies on your own?' he says.

you nod, laying down. 'I think I bruised a rib, though. the rest is all small cuts and bruises. no broken bones this time. they looked like they were really fucking annoyed they could be bested by just one kid.' you say.

percy smiles, walking over to kiss your cheek, careful not to touch the wounds on your face. 'that's my girl.' he says.

'you got anything to do tomorrow?' you say, stifling a yawn.

'nope. we can spend the day here.' he says, walking over to the bed an laying down next to you.

'good.' you say. 'I just need to wash my clothes and clean my sword, and I should probably-' 'y/n.'

you look at percy.

'let's just relax tomorrow, okay? come on, you need sleep.'

you nod, moving closer to him.

as you're laying next to percy, feeling sleep get to you once more, you can't help but to feel a deep sense of gratitude.

sally didn't question why you showed up at her doorstep, but pulled you in her arms and sat with you to bandage your wounds and listen to your story.

percy listened to you as well and provided you familiar comfort you needed, telling you to relax.

you just know if something ever goes wrong, you're always welcome at the jackson household.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit/Max

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the-ellia-west · 4 months

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How to make your readers Feel emotions for Dummies

(Characters crying edition!)

So... You can't write characters crying? (Or you just want to read this for some reason) Well, neither do I so let's get right into it! I should be packing for a trip but oh well who cares? Not me!

Yeah. Your character is crying and you want to know...

How to not make it cringe af

How to make the Readers relate to it

How to make the readers not only relate to it, but feel DEPRESSED

Step 1 - Do NOT over describe it I've tried to write this so many times and failed that I've realized it's just like good horror. If anything, don't describe the tears, describe their impact, describe the horror of why they're happening, what they're doing to your character. (Example at the end)

Step 2 - Make it at a time when we've had time to connect to the character Put it in the middle of the 1st or only book at the earliest. Other than that, put it later. The more time you spend with the characters, the more their breaking down will emotionally scar you. And that's what we want

Step 3 - Describe other actions for the character Deep breaths, falling to their knees, screaming, choking, cradling the body of a loved one, sad dialogue, other concerned characters, ect. Actions speak louder than words and that is sooooo true in writing. This one of those rare cases where show don't tell is a must.

Ex. (I'm using A and B for the character names cause I'm lazy)

The world seemed to slow as everything came crashing down around her as his body hit the ground, a soft thud the only sound she heard as the grass slowly turned from the light lively emerald of life, to the deep crimson red of death. He was gone. She ran over to him, his quickly fading labored breaths and her crunching footsteps the only sound as the sun shone into her eyes, blinding her. She dropped to her knees beside him, the tears already beginning to fall as she began to choke on her own words, unable to speak as she grabbed his hand. It felt warm in her palm as she clutched his hand close to her chest as the world came crashing back. The burning light of the sun in her eyes, the heat of it and the adrenaline on her skin, her brother's cooling hand, his raspy breaths, her sobbing gasps, the clash of metal against metal, the falling bodies, the raining blood. Then the screams. "A! A! What are you doing?! We're in the middle of a fight! Don't you remember what I taught you?" B nearly screamed at her, causing A to cry out in a mix of anguish and agony, panic finally reaching her as the impact of what had just happened finally hit her.

(Side note: If you liked the example, it will be part of my Fantasy Book series Coming out soon! More in my profile if you're at all interested)

That wasn't as sad as it could of been because you didn't know the characters, but it's definitely better than just an extended description of crying.

Anyway, thank you lovelies and I hope this helps you even a little bit! Love you, continue being awesome!

[Edit: WHY DO YOU LIKE THIS SO MUCH WHAT DID I DO TO GET SO MANY PEOPLE TO LIKE THIS???? I am flattered... Thank you?]

#creative writing #fiction writing #writing community #writer things #writerscommunity #writers on tumblr #writeblr #writing #writers #write #writer #writers and poets #how to write #writing tips #writing tips and tricks #writing advice #writing help

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dolldefiler · 18 days

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C/W: Rape, intox

There’s a void in your heart and you may not even know it.

I do. I can see it every time you talk to a man. The constant, dull need for approval. The burden on your heart to feel accepted.

That’s why I’d drop a few pills into your drinks. Minutes later, I’d carry you out of the pub. I’d be stopped of course. I’d show them hundreds of photos we’d taken together. As friends.

You never sought my approval. Was it because you never considered me a man? Was I not worthy of you?

The soft pitter-patter of rain against the window would mask the silence. I’d strip you of your clothes and with one swift stroke, I’d push inside you, pumping inside you gently, back and forth.

You’d struggle against me, in the weak, intoxicated way drugged women do. I’d soothe you, apologising for hurting you. I’d tell you it’s okay. That I promise you’ll be okay soon. That I love you more than anything. Lies. All of them. The sweet, sickly praise on how good you feel and how pretty you look would fuck with you. Here’s your best friend giving you the approval you needed.

And then I’d fuck you harder. I’d take advantage of your stunned little head and begin to choke you out. You’d blink through layers of spit, and sharp slaps I deliver. You’d want to scream, to ask what the fuck is happening right now. No words would come out. My fingers would dig into your throat deeper.

I’d tell you that if you didn’t want this, you wouldn’t be getting wet. That you clearly want this or you would have stopped me. Your weakened, drugged body would tremble violently. I’d promise to stop fucking you if you just said, ‘please, stop fucking me’. I’d wait and wait, and all I’d hear is you slurring your words in a desperate, drunken attempt to stop me. I’d relentlessly rail you.

I’d enjoy fucking with your mind. Feeding you the sweet praise you crave deep down, and the rough, abusive sex your body needs, all while you’re too fucked up to distinguish reality from your nightmares. I’d see the emptiness inside you and fill it with my cock, uncaringly and violently. Not because you need to be raped. Because you deserve it. Because it was inevitable.

I know you’d remember it too. I want you looking me in the eyes, uncertainty dancing across your face. I’d never mention the night to you. I’d act as if nothing ever happened. And all the while, you’d tear yourself up for doubting me. After all, it’d be fucked up to judge me based off a nightmare you once had, right?

#rapekink #rapedoll #rapetoy #r@pedoll #r@petoy #r@pe kink #r@pe play #r@pe fantasy #r4p3 kink #intox cnc #intox kink

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capslocked · 6 months

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KINKVEMBER DAY: 2

[prompt: mutual masturbation] male reader x jang wonyoung 4k words

If nothing else, Jang Wonyoung is a creature of habit.

Always orders her americano cold. Brown sugar and cinnamon cream cheese on her bagel. Walks three and a half steps behind her manager whenever they make their rounds: hair salon, corner pharmacy, the office, local record store. And for as long as she's been sharing your bed, she's insisted on that horrendous alarm clock from the late 90s that chirps the early-morning wakeup like a dying robot-parakeet.

All of it has worked for her so far, she’ll tell you. Which you find hard to argue with.

So - when she arrives home later than usual on an ordinary Thursday, she doubles down on routine. Where there's comfort in predictability. Coat on the third hook, boots below, fingers in her hair twisting to undo a messy bun, and a soft, delicate, "It's me," once she steps over the threshold.

“Hey,” you say to her, tilting your head. "You look, bedraggled."

"Well," and Wonyoung brushes aside the handful of her damp hair not stuck to her neck. There are faint marks just at her temple, in a faded half-circle, not unlike what would happen if your pillow wasn't comfortable. Or, you know. Some boyfriend that she's not supposed to have getting a hand tangled into all that long hair and pulling tight, like she tells him not to do. "That's probably true."

"Is it raining?"

"It was earlier." She eyes the spoonful of yogurt you're about to lick off, leaning back against the counter and tapping at the ceramic bowl. Frowns. "Is that one of the last blueberry ones. I take those for my lunch."

"I can always get more."

"Uh-huh." She drops her phone, keys, and spare change from her pockets into the large wicker bowl that lives near the end of the hall, by the closet and coat hooks. She has a sort of despondent energy about her when she comes into the kitchen. Less a look, more of a stance. A rub at her shoulder, this back and forth in her neck like she's working out a kink.

And because she looks tired and her hair is damp and she isn't busy kissing you right away, that's when you reach out. Let a finger slide across her skin, under her collar, pull aside the cotton.

"I'm going to go take a shower."

"Mind if I join you? You could use a hand." You end up holding hers in your own for a moment. Just, looking. "If you want."

There's something unidentifiable in her stare. She might have gone on believing nothing was different if not for the length of that pause - you, and the warmth from your body and the warmth of your hands on her shoulders, sliding into her neck, then-

She rises up on her toes and presses a light, almost shy kiss into your chin. And, well, if she had the strength to reach anywhere more than that, she'd let her fingertips find and curl around the smooth curve of your ear and say, very softly - barely audible - "take your clothes off. I'm already soaking wet. If you don't help, I'll run out of hot water before the conditioner's worked its way through."

But it's not for tonight; she's tired, wants it simple, maybe. Maybe wants to leave it for a better day.

"I just want to get cleaned up. It's been a long day."

"Fine by me." You point your spoon at her. "That's what it's for."

“Such a fucking gentleman," she murmurs, patting a palm at the front of your chest.

You smile first, playful - just this side of annoying - the exact thing she's kicking herself months later for having fallen for. And with another spoonful of yogurt, "you know me."

In your defense, Wonyoung has always had the cutest reaction to it. The quirk that she tries to keep from forming in the corner of her mouth, small and contained, like if you asked her about her day, she'd play it off. Let a sentence out with no punctuation. Which she often does: she's been fine, and that's the full length of her response.

But later, when she climbs into bed - when her face is in your hands and her lips are brushing past your cheek - when her hair smells like peach shampoo, and your chin is tucked into the nape of her neck, just the beginning of all the ways you plan to spoil her, you have to tease. Always, "I thought we weren't fucking until tomorrow, or was that a lie?"

A little bit of distance to keep your mind on track, and not thinking about her spread out under you, wide-eyes, and saying: yes.

You’re propped up against the headboard. You were reading, or watching tv. It doesn’t matter which when Wonyoung straddles your legs and drags her hand up your chest. Up and under her nightgown, the silky, thin, light blue material, until she has the collar cupped in her fist and her knees straddling your thigh. "Am I not allowed to change my mind?"

"No. Not allowed." Your breath catches. Because she is gorgeous, especially like this: tired, and pretty, and sweet, and thinking, deeply and meticulously and with great consideration, of climbing into your lap and asking if you'd help. If she'd be distracting enough - if she had the words to entice you into staying very close, without actually promising anything, because this, what she's wearing, how it's so tight to her form and how it is easily torn or bunched aside when she reaches down with both hands and starts to fiddle with the fabric at her waist, near her navel - is all entirely purposeful.

Wonyoung raises her eyebrow in question - silently: an exception, maybe, for me?

The way you're talking her up with both hands at the very smallest dip between her ribs and the bones jutting out above her hips, thumbs rubbing into the sensitive places along her thighs - pressing, a steady rhythm.

"Do you want it bad, princess?"

"Stop." Wonyoung wrinkles her nose at that and glares. But she knows better than anyone else. She lives in that contradiction, visible as it plays across her face when her back arcs and arches. When her breathing does this slow and deep in and out and you've leaned in with just enough pressure to make it feel good, in your kiss, a soft tug, a bite. A slow laving tongue leaving lazy patterns across her skin.

"Just want to make sure," you insist. Then, the question is being murmured against her chest. Then it's being whispered into the crook of her neck - which earns the single most content of sounds:

"A little, yeah, you ass."

"My mouth? My fingers? Or are you looking for something more... involved?"

"Maybe I'm looking," she says, pulling a curtain of glossy black hair back over her ear, "for you to figure that out."

"Aren’t you coy." You grab at her hair again - the second time today, for the second-worst of reasons. To tilt her head and gaze up at her like you're willing to live in the space beneath her. "We'd start slow?" you ask, and with a press of your open mouth against her collarbone, she brings her arms around you.

"Very slowly," Wonyoung says. She has one hand curling through bedsheets to feel if you're anywhere near as hard as she is wet. Her touch is fleeting, barely a whisper. "We don't have to rush it. Maybe we could do that thing."

You laugh out loud, and the vibration of it alone, coursing through your chest, your waist, up between her legs, has Wonyoung wanting. "That could mean anything at this point."

Wonyoung just looks down at you, fingernails grazing over your stomach, your chest, as she peels your shirt up over your head and tosses it aside the bed. And then, the idea, "get your phone."

"Hm. I'm going to say something that might come off as a little... something, but I mean it in the most respectful way." It's not a far reach, to where yours is charging on the nightstand. You're tapping in the passcode to your lockscreen when you spell it out for the girl in your lap: "you're low-key kind of a freak."

Wonyoung closes her eyes. Smiles. Her hair is spilling over one shoulder, some strewn across her chest, where she cups the underside of her breasts and sits her elbows into your shoulders and wriggles her ass a little lower in your lap. Until the tips of her hair are brushing the space below her belly-button, teasing-soft at the warm, pliant flesh.

"Pot." She bites into her lip, just slightly. "Meet kettle."

It doesn't take long to find what she's looking for; twitter's full of it. A video of her that'd gone viral. Or not quite viral, but circulated - bounced from account to account, thousands and thousands of hits - the shot by shot of the choreo that sees her bending over at the waist, touching her fingertips to the hem of a plaid-checked skirt, with this perfect posture, straight up through the hips to arch the back and lift and turn her shoulders at the right angle, so there's no mistake she's looking straight at the camera.

“You look good here,” you remark, scrolling a little further. She's grown so used to it that she doesn't even look.

Instead, it's her fingers that do the talking: moving a little faster. Touching a little deeper and harder over the gray cloth of her underwear. She runs a circle over the spot that has her rubbing her hips forward, breath shaky, back in your ear. "I always look good, don't I?"

"Obviously."

Her jaw falls into the crook of your neck. There's no escaping it: this heat, and she sighs. Mumbled and warm. This is the worst thing, she mutters - like you can't feel how incredibly hard it's getting to see her touch herself and act all shy, so the words are half-concentrating on her own breath, the other half focused, hazy. In her face. In her chest.

So, again. Wonyoung swallows a sigh. Breathes and runs her touch along the edges. That spot and where the wet has started to soak through the fabric, her thighs rubbing and sliding and finding new pressure.

“Here’s a particularly nasty one," you tell her.

Wonyoung turns her mouth into your neck, lips leaving these kisses while she presses down her fingers and rides. Hard, heavy strokes where her hand moves quicker with a sharp huff to her inhale. You click open another thread - another snapshot of that tight little ass of hers, the smooth skin over the dip of her hips, and the long curve of her back-

"Read it."

And with the music all distorted and choppy through tinny phone speakers, you say: "some guy can't decide if he'd like to spank you or pull your hair."

"Uh-huh." You feel her chin dig in where it's placed itself, over the flat of your shoulder.

"Then there's an awful lot here about how much the commenter wants to rail you. They get pretty vulgar." You look up from the screen and raise an eyebrow, the words coming into place, "Wonyoung has grown up so well," and the next part is so easy, "this little cocktease has been begging me to drain my balls for her for too long. I have to fucking oblige."

"God." She slips a finger into her panties to rub at her pussy - you know because the contact is audible, wet - and she drags a palm up and down, pressing in hard. Her lips part over a shaky punched out breath - this hot, wet puff of air - when she drags her mouth over the smooth skin of your collarbone. Where she feels at liberty to bite a hickey into the taut line of your neck, and draw her mouth, open and hot, up into your jaw. "Cocktease, huh?"

"Always the impression you leave." And with one, long, indulgent swipe, and a pinch on the wet material that's plastered itself, sheer and transparent and a beautiful outline to your cock, you glance to see Wonyoung smiling. That one that's all cheekbones. All teeth. All sort of sly.

"Can you," and there's not even an attempt, not even a sliver of an ounce of thought toward trying to hide the ache in her voice.

(You're there before she has to ask.)

“The concept of ‘Baddie’ does suit her, I think,” you start to read, “no one would believe it, but Wonyoung is the perfect little slut. Grade A baddie. Capital 'b'. She keeps teasing us with that tight, toned body and her slutty expressions. Someone’s ruining her on the regular. Not a doubt in my mind. A piece of ass that fine doesn’t go a week without it.”

"I do like when they talk about you," Wonyoung purrs out, and her hand slips down your chest. A touch, always warm and heavy and searching and all your fault lands right at your waist. On the bone that juts out at her thumb and forefinger. Which is exactly where she'd start palming you over your underwear, but with something close and confident in her eye, this mischievous idea taking shape in her gaze. You can't deny it: she has something dangerous in store.

"About how they think I am."

And when you place your hand back at her hairline, trailing her neck, her shoulder, Wonyoung sighs. From the top of her chest.

"What else does it say?" She breathes out a desperate exhale. This low-slung sort of groan. She looks hungry, and so unafraid to be. Eyes all smoldering. Hips all wriggling. Pushing a rhythm with those desperate grinds over your leg. The mess, in the softest sense, of her mouth, panting against the smooth line of your jaw. And voice, hoarse, murmuring something about: "how are they planning to ruin me?"

"Princess, you-"

Wonyoung angles her hips just that inch. A moan, just at the barest amount of friction, barely a grind, her soaked pussy rubbing against the flesh of your upper thigh, that feels like an earthquake hitting your throat. That makes your eyes flutter closed for just one second and groan, your whole chest singing for her.

You swallow hard. "How can anyone go on calling this innocent-"

Wonyoung’s fingers slip past the elastic, your cock springing free against her thigh and bobbing gently. "Play along," she tells you, this hint of command, and maybe a tease - playful and familiar. "I don't want to be the only one ruining their underwear." She smiles like she has plans, and it's downright infuriating in the best way.

“In the song, she even calls herself a ‘pretty little risky baddie’ and means that whatever happens, happens. She’s announcing that she’s not on birth control and that she knows all she’s good for is getting fucked and used and bred like a toy.”

“And?” she asks, the fingers between her legs fluttering out tiny circles of respite - moving fast, faster -

It takes more than a couple seconds, because your breath halts in your throat the moment your fist finds the blood pulsing through your cock, joining her in slow, full-length, smooth motions, watching, always. Seeing her, all the way: with every slow and steady roll of her hips that moves her slick-covered-panties along your skin. The expression in the hooded eyes, this flash of her pink tongue and the way it curls over the seam of her plush-soft lip. That subtle shift in the arch of her back and the clenching muscle up her arm and leg-

Watching is where you find yourself at: all the way, everywhere. The tremble in the flex of her spine to the sound she makes from her throat at the same time. When Wonyoung moves closer. How you breathe, ragged, but eager. You're both all nerves, the damp heat building up the soft and quiet parts of the both of you and neither of you are bothered about the sweat sticking the shirt to her skin - this wet heat, a daze, a smell in the air that has Wonyoung rocking and rotating on your lap.

"I would start," you continue reading, paraphrasing slightly the unhinged words of someone typing one-handed, and your voice comes out odd, thick. "-start with my cock forced into that little throat, she'd look so perfect with her eyes watering while she gags on my cum, the filthy sounds she would be making. She'd beg for more like the slutty princess she is-"

Wonyoung shifts her weight, and lets out this moan.

"-I'm not convinced Wonyoung would even be satiated by being railed in her pretty little pussy until she's crying. Wouldn't be enough if she only choked on it while cum dripped down her chin, leaving those little dollops along the edges, slipping and glazing on her tongue. Probably wants the messiest, hottest load. No condom. Lying flat. Clenching. Could you imagine, bare? Wanting to be used for real, want us filling her so badly she'd barely even be able to move, or think, or process anything except how much of an overstimulated slut she would be: helpless. Soaking."

And you look at her as you stroke - the same tempo. Pre-cum leaking from the flushed head. Making a show of it. Watching her lips drop into something slack-jawed. This isn't even the filthiest thought she's ever heard - the roughest fantasy brought to life she's ever imagined - and yet.

"They go on for a long time about breeding you."

Wonyoung manages this incoherent half-word - a word of want, more of the kind of fucking she'd be receiving with her knees and palms to a mattress, her throat dry and face sticky with cum and tears and sweat. You know her body and what she likes, and this:

"-I would fuck her while she screams, her fingers tearing at the bedsheets and her vision so blurry and brain all fogged over, only able to respond in pained moans and deep-seated need-"

Her throat bobs.

You don't need to turn the phone over to find the end. Wonyoung lets it fall faceup onto the bedspread as she pulls your wrist toward the heat between her legs, all messy and slick. "Touch me," she's murmuring, guiding your hand lower until you have the thin strip of fabric tenting just off her lips and you press a digit inside, another - until Wonyoung clenches all around you - until she brings her wet fingers to your own ache, the hot length of your cock, pumping up and down, a stroke. Until she licks them, and places her forehead into the center of your collarbone, mumbling this broken, "Just... put-your-fucking-hands-" and her next breath, like a sharp and sudden wind.

When she’s this worked up, it doesn't take long: Wonyoung arches, slow and sinful, her shoulders curving down to present her chest, to make her small breasts and pert, hardened nipples visible even through the cotton of her shirt, her lips falling open - you slip two fingers to the base, then three. Plunging them in quick and ruthless, Wonyoung bucking into the heel of your hand, fucking her pussy on you so her thighs are slick, squelch after squelch-

“Fuck,” she whispers, this long note of exasperation, right into your cheek, and the intensity and urgency has her fucking her hips up to meet the thrust of your fingers, working her cunt like it's made for pleasure alone, and your cock-

The base of your throat burns. “Yeah,” you tell her, “just like that. Jerk that cock just like that, Wonyoung.”

Both of you are there, cumming into each other's hands, in the dimmed lights of your bedroom, heaving short, wet, sinful breaths into each other's mouths, because it's become one: her eyes and yours, blown wide. Her thighs shaking, your hips stuttering.

You roll and curl and spread your digits, holding Wonyoung's ass into her strokes. Tug the strap aside to hook a thumb in and press into her hot skin and warm muscle, driving further, deeper. Harder and firmer - pressing down, fast and vicious until she's making a series of sounds, whine-like and so soft.

"With me," she chokes out, swallowing down on the noise that falls out of her chest as fingers continue to slide around you like a vice. Her palm on you with so much pressure. "Fuck. I want you to cum."

It hits you - at first, not even particularly surprising, the rush of blood through your head.

"I wanna see it," she demands in a small, not particularly loud voice, so shy and small as the backs of her feet scramble for a hold on the mattress and she comes so hard - again, a sigh. "-feel your cum all over my knuckles, baby, cum on my-"

As to whether you or Wonyoung release first, tension coiled like a spring - well, it's anyone's guess.

"Wony-" Your mouth is open, eyes clenched tight, when Wonyoung bites a kiss down on your lip. All-consuming is the only way to describe the kind of desperation in her noises. It's everything, the sound and feeling, her wanting, her needing. All that wet heat - your stomach tightening, then slack, muscles stiffened up and falling loose as your grip becomes too tight, too heavy around the girl whose fist you're fucking and jerking and riding through this white-hot-blinding-orgasm, her wrist buckling to let you use her.

It's all that cum, lathering Wonyoung's palm, the space between her fingers, wrist and your shaft, slipping, easy. A whole puddle.

It's a few, careful strokes of her thumb and she's holding you up through that oversensitive high, forcing all that cum onto her belly, the hem of her nightshirt, all sorts of slick and messy. "Fuck, shit-" your hand still over her hot cunt, while hers just lays her weight over you, her lithe, slender body landing like it had lost any preference for form, for structure.

"Ugh," Wonyoung finally manages to get out.

"God." You collapse, leaning into the headboard behind you. With Wonyoung wrapped over your chest. Into your arm. Around your waist and mouth buried somewhere into the sweep of your neck: exhausted, entirely.

When she comes around, she does, however, make it an effort to use her tongue. Teasing along your jaw. A slip. And that makes you wonder.

"Messy," she says, wiping the back of her hand on your thigh, because where else should the proof end up.

"Ah."

She bites in, then tugs - lips on yours, until you lean up and wrap around the middle of her back, down into her hair and her hips. Because this part of her has never had a preference: to be treated either with the kind of affection and reverence afforded to an object of worship, or manhandled like someone, someone, no doubt has their fingers on her the instant she turns her ass this way or that.

"I could," she says, eyes unfocused and foggy - licking over the swell of her lip, "use a hand cleaning this up."

"Shower?"

“Mhmm.” Wonyoung slides her long legs off you, and in a look that's all too intentional, turns to move away and slip her nightshirt up, and-

Oh.

Right over her head. Then she tosses it aside like it's nothing. Wears the same sort of look that someone who hadn't had your fingers buried between their legs might. "Or, a bath sounds nice, if I’m allowed to change my mind."

"Say less, princess."

#wonyoung smut #ive wonyoung smut #ive smut #male reader #kpop smut #capslocked kinkvember

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ifancyharry · 6 months

Text

Ever since New York

what it is: in which YN is Harry Styles's personal assistant, but maybe she should quit her job?

September.

Harry was running late. He knew he was running late because he didn’t even have the time to check on his phone how much late he was running. He hated being late. It wasn’t really in his character. In his manners. It’s not because he didn’t like people waiting on him, he loves being the center of attention; he loves having all eyes on him when he enters a room.

He just didn’t like being late because of the wasted time. Wasted time he took off work. And as of right now, work was pretty much his life. His purpose.

So being late, was kind of a big deal to him.

Y/N, on the other hand, was used to being late. And she, too, hated it. She hated the attention it came with it. But it was just in her nature, not because she wanted it, but because it happened to her. Like this morning. Her go-to local Starbucks was swamped with people, and she really wanted a pumpkin spice latte, since it was almost the beginning of fall and she still hadn’t had one.

So, it’s not like she could skip the coffee run. But said coffee run took longer than expected and made her late to her job interview. On top of that, once she exited the cafe, winning cup of coffee slightly burning her hand, it started raining, and of course she hadn’t bought her umbrella, because who brings an umbrella to a job interview?, and plus she really couldn’t be bothered to carry the weight of said object with her all around New York.

So, when she enters the Madison Square Garden Arena, she’s soaked. She almost can hear the squishy sound her Converse make as she walks, her socks feeling rather scratchy against her skin.

She jogs a little towards the backstage area, trying to recall what was said on the email that was sent to her with all the interview details. She’s breathing heavily through her nose, not really used to all the running she had to endure, and she feels hot. She’s positive the heater is on and the sudden contrast with the chilly September air makes her coat feel too warm and her jeans too tight.

She takes a moment to stop herself, trying to calm her heart and breathing down as she takes small sips of her drink. She’s already late, soaked, and sweaty, she might as well enjoy her well awaited drink in peace. She’s sure she’s not going to get the job, anyway. Leave it to her to think she’d fail before even trying.

Harry Styles personal assistant? Yes, she’s known to be a dreamer, but not to that extent. When her friend Anna had told her that her boyfriend had a friend that went to college with Jeff Azoff (she didn’t even know that said Jeff went to college), that he was looking for trustworthy people who could be fit for the job and that he had recommended YN, she thought Anna was pulling a sad excuse of a prank on her. Little did she know, about ten days later, she’d gotten an email from Jeff himself where he asked her if she was down for a little get-to-know-me interview.

Anna knew how much YN needed the job.Young, jobless, and living in New York didn’t really go together too well, and she knew that YN wanted to save as much money as possible to fulfill her life’s dream of studying art in Florence, so she pressured her friend to at least go to the interview. So that’s how she got herself in this situation, sipping her coffee while she regained her breath.

She’s so lost in her own train of thoughts that she doesn’t even realize she stopped in the middle of a hallway. She’s reading a flyer on the wall absentmindedly when she’s hit by a big, sturdy object that makes her loose her balance. She tries to grip her hands onto something to gain some kind of balance, but that only results in her coffee exploding from its own paper cup that she squeezed too hard, the cap flying off and falling on the ground.

“Fuck!” She exclaims as her bum hits the floor with a loud thump. She can feel the coffee on her coat and all over her hands as she raises her eyes from her pumpkin scented, soaked coat and lays her sight on what she thought was an object, but was, actually, a person. Her employer, more like. If she wasn’t convinced enough that she wasn’t going to get the job, she’s sure as hell now.

“What the fuck!” Harry, who had been running really fast to try and get on time to this stupid interview he had to endure, really hadn’t taken in consideration that someone could be standing in the middle of the hallway he was running down on.

So, he really thought it was safe to run and check his phone at the same time; big mistake.

It’s not like he was checking his phone for his own personal business, he was just texting Jeff that he was on his way.

“Who stands in the middle of a fucking hallway!” He shouts, but he isn’t even looking at her as he speaks. He’s looking at his shirt, that now has a big, beige colored, stain on it.

He grips the hem of the shirt with his hands and brings the stained part to his nose, which he scrunches immediately in disgust: “is this regular milk? God, it’s making me sick”.

YN really couldn’t get anything out of her mouth as she slowly gets up from her position on the floor and raises to her feet. She knows she’s supposed to say something, maybe apologize, but it suddenly feels like she doesn’t know how to talk anymore. She’s afraid, if she speaks, she’d blabber something incoherent and make a fool out of herself. Not that she didn’t already.

Plus, if she’s really being honest, he kind of sounds like an asshole, so she’s not particularly keen on begging for his forgiveness.

“If you were walking like a normal person, this wouldn’t have happened!” She murmurs, but he’s already too far out of reach to hear, otherwise she’s sure he would’ve said something else. She heavily sighs as she walks behind him, careful to leave a big amount of space between them so it doesn’t look like she’s following him.

When she enters the room, after knocking gently on the door, he’s already sat on the chair next to Jeff, a bunch of papers scattered on the desk in front of them.

She clears her throat a little and Jeff raises his eyes to her, giving her a small smile and gesturing to the chair in front of them.

Harry, arm bent at the elbow, one hand under the table and the other holding his phone, doesn’t bother to look at who came in until he’s finished reading his emails. He wouldn’t have to read his emails if he hadn’t wasted his time by being late, and mostly by being tackled by a wet puppy looking girl and her stupid pumpkin spice latte. The said pumpkin spice latte that is all over his designer shirt.

When he finally raises his glance, he’s met with a pair of big, wide eyes that remind him of those of a scared deer caught in headlights, and there’s no hint of a joke in his tone as he says: “fuck no.”

...

YN wonders whether she should quit.

It’s not her fault, really, and it’s not like she isn’t trying. She thinks she’s doing a fairly good job.

She’s trying really hard to make up for the coffee incident, and she begged Harry to tell her where he got his shirt so she could at least repurchase it for him, but once he’d told her it was Gucci, she realized it cost more than her rent so she let it go… trying the best she could to watch where she was going as to not repeat the accident again.

Harry is… well, he’s kind of difficult to work with.

She doesn’t know whether it’s because of the coffee incident or because he just doesn’t like her, but he’s really stand-offish.

He doesn’t talk much to her — only when the work demands it, and at first it was fine, YN understood why he’d act like that, but now it’s just getting kind of frustrating, especially because he’s making her job ten times harder than it already is.

She’s determined to show him that just because they started off on the wrong foot, she’s not just some clumsy little girl that had to have friends in the right places to get a job!

“Harry?” She trails off, peeking her head inside his dressing room.

He’s sitting on the couch, his back bent down and his hands fiddling with his shoe laces.

YN notices he’s dressed in his workout clothes (a pair of Nike shorts and a black tee), and she wonders whether he’s going to the gym? Maybe back at the hotel? It would be rather bothersome to go all the way back but she doesn’t say anything since it’s not her place.

When he hears her he raises his head to look at her, his brows hiking up high on his forehead. YN wonders why he’s even surprised to see her… she’s been on his ass for a month straight now, never really leaving his side unless when necessary.

“Hey” he greets her, nodding his head towards her.

“I finished everything you asked me t’do” she smiles, and if she wasn’t sure he’d find a way to piss her off, she would’ve felt at least somewhat triumphant. But she doesn’t.

Because she knows Harry doesn’t like her, so no matter what she does, it will never be good enough to redeem herself.

“Everything, really?” He asks surprised, “hav’you folded all the merch like I asked?” When YN nods he goes on, “ironed my outfit?” She nods once again, “and ‘s my schedule ready for tomorrow?”

“Yes.” She nods swiftly, “I even color coded it” she grins.

He seems to think a bit about his next words, and then, “okay, then. Help me work out, will ya?” he says, refraining himself from smiling a mischievous smile at the sound of her groan.

He’s sure it wasn’t intentional, and she feels extremely embarrassed and hopes he hasn’t noticed or at least won’t call her out on it.

“Let’s go, YN, I don’t have all day” he chuckles darkly, patting her on the cheek as he walks past her.

YN knows she should definitely quit.

...

“What the hell is this! I thought ye said it was all done?”

YN really feels like she could cry. She’s 22 years old and she’s on the verge of crying on her job. A job she begged God to get, a job that’s fundamental to get her in the art school she’s always dreamed of.

Things haven’t been easy.

Harry has been a dick to her every day and there’s only so much one can take.

He’s mean, rude, and always cold. He never smiles even when she brings him coffee (black with no dairy milk because it nauseates him), he never praises her (not even when she color codes his google calendar), and every time she enters a room he hushes as if he’s telling this great secret she’s not supposed to hear.

Today has been a long day.

She’d woken up at 5 am to grab him breakfast (not that he demanded it, but she felt as if she needed to in order for them to start the day on a good note — it hasn’t worked, it seems) and after that, she’d watched him workout at the gym in the hotel, the stuffy room nauseating her to the point where she had to beg him to turn the AC on to let the air change.

After his workout, she’d made her way to the venue.

He’s playing at Madison Square Garden tonight, and even if it’s not his first time, the tension could be felt in the air and in the way he huffed and puffed at everything she did.

It’s her job to take care of the merch stand inside the arena, no matter what city they are in, she has to fold the merch and make the stand presentable and organized, so when the staff comes in before the show everything is neat and clean.

She’s been doing this for a month now so she knows what Harry likes and how he demands it to be cleaned, and until now nothing about her work had disappointed him. So why is he acting like she’s this major screw up that can’t fold clothes?

It’s not the fact that he’s doubting her that hurts her, it’s the fact that he’s doubting her honesty.

It was all finished. She had folded all the merch like he asked and the stand was in perfectly good tidiness when she left it; sadly, that’s not how Harry had found it, much later and much closer to the show.

Maybe his pre show jitters made him a little more on edge, because the way he’s stomping his feet and pointing at the merch is making her feel really guilty for not doing her job correctly. Even if it wasn’t her fault, she should’ve checked before telling him she was all done!

“Harry,” she trails off, and she feels pathetic as she hears her voice come out all watery, “I swear, i did like you asked. Why would I lie!”

She’s almost begging and pleading him, her eyes stinging with the devious tears she’s trying really hard not to let fall.

“I don’t know why. But why is the stand in this mess? You know this can’t happen before a show, YN!” He reprimands her sternly.

YN feels like she’s a bad student getting yelled at by her teacher, and she gulps before saying “I know, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it now! Tidy here and then sod off!”

She nods her head quickly and hurries to get back behind the stand, folding the clothes as fast as she can to fix the mess quickly. She hears him walk away with a grunt, and once he’s out of her line of sight she feels the warm tears start falling from her eyes.

Finally.

She chokes down a sob as she keeps tidying up, wondering what the hell happened to the very organized stand she’d left.

Once she’s done, she double checks everything to make sure (just in case) and then she climbs over the counter to get out. She quickly makes her way to the dressing room as she hears the buzzing of the fans standing outside the venue, waiting trepidating for the gates to open, and she’s thankful she’d been fast, otherwise Harry would’ve fired her on the spot.

She gathers her work bag and tosses all her belongings inside, sneaking out of the door when she realizes Harry is inside the bathroom showering.

She doesn’t bother to call a Uber. She chooses to walk, hoping that the fresh air could soothe the headache that crying had left her with.

It’s a little bit chilly, but she welcomes the cold October weather with contentment, finally free of the heat weave that had populated her summer days. She wishes she could enjoy it more, and if it wasn’t for her mood, maybe she would’ve grabbed a little drink and a sweet treat on her way back. But there wasn’t anything sweet about the way Harry had treated her, so she walks sulkily back to the hotel, ready to pack her bags and leave. She’s decided. She doesn’t want to be his assistant for not even another day.

It had been a long day.

…

it’s past 11pm when Harry crosses the threshold of his hotel room, immediately tossing his sweaty clothes on the chair next to the small desk. His room is nice, big but not uncomfortably large to the point of making him feel lonely, and his bed is soft just the way he likes it, and he can’t wait to shower and get under the covers, but… there’s something he needs to do first.

So, he quickly showers and changes into way more comfortable clothes, a pair of black sweats and a grey treat people with kindness hoodie, slipping his vans on and walking immediately out of the door.

He’d like to say the uneasiness he feels in his belly is hunger (he had only soup for dinner), but it’s definitely not. He’s nervous. And he feels like a dick. And he doesn’t really know what to say to YN to make it up to her.

Should he say he was just tense because of the show? In his mind he knows that wouldn’t be too believable, because he’s been doing shows for most of his life, and if he acted the way he did before any of them, he probably wouldn’t have many friends.

As he’s searching for things to say, he hasn’t even realized he ended up in front of her door, the light beige wood dooming on him and almost making fun of him.

He closes his hand into a fist and knocks on the door, the pit of his stomach prickling.

YN opens the door almost immediately, and he wonders whether she was waiting for him.

He knows she wasn’t as soon as he sees her face fall once her eyes land on him.

She actually looks pretty cute, all snuggly and sleepy dressed in an oversized sweatshirt and sleep shorts, but when she looks up at him he notices her eyes are a faint red color, and his heart tugs in his chest when he realizes she had been crying.

It was never his intention to make her cry, and he really does feel bad.

“What?” She asks dismissively, her body still shielding the room from his view.

“Know ‘s late but… Can I come in?” He asks wryly, his breath coming out in puffs out of his nose as if he had been running.

“I don’t know” she ponders.

“Please, YN”

She takes a moment to reflect and then opens her door wider (he’s technically still her boss), turning to the side to let him in.

She closes the door behind him and waits for him to talk with her arms crossed against her chest. He doesn’t really know where to start, whether he should address the fact that she’s been crying or how he treated her, so he settles on “how are you?” And he feels stupid as soon as the words leave his mouth. She sniffles before shrugging.

“Sorry, that was stupid” he pinches the bridge of his nose as he shakes his head.

YN doesn’t know what happens next.

She’s probably just tired, and maybe really hurt by how Harry treated her so she… she starts crying.

She feels her eyes fill with tears, stinging her water line. And it’s really embarrassing but she really doesn’t care. She figures he’s going to fire her anyway so she might as well let it all out.

She chokes down a sob, turning her head to the side to be as subtle as possible, but he notices straight away, walking quickly towards her.

“YN please don’t cry” he pleas, stretching a hand out to her to squeeze her shoulder.

“I’m sorry” she sobs, hiding her face and her tears behind her hands, pressing the tip of her fingers to her eyelids.

Harry really doesn’t know what to do. He thinks of himself as a good person and a good friend but this is different. He’s supposed to be her boss. But, he realizes, he’s also the reason she’s crying, and Harry is everything but cruel, so he tugs her by the shoulder into his chest, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, his hand caressing her back soothingly.

She sobs into his chest, and “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what happened with that stand. I did everything like you asked”.

“It’s okay, it’s okay” he comforts.

To really tell the truth, Harry had forgotten all about the clothes. Yes, he had been pissed about the conditions he found the merch stand in, but she had tided up quickly, so in his mind everything was forgiven. He hadn’t really realized how stern he had come off to her.

“YN I’m not mad about the merch stand. I’m so sorry I was so rude”

“No,” she’s quick to object, “I get it, you want everything to be perfect. Trust me I know! But I’m trying my best to make everything perfect like you want” she sniffles, pulling her face away from his chest.

She dries her face with the sleeves of her sweatshirt, sighing heavily.

“You’re doing a great—“ he starts, but she interrupts him immediately, “I don’t know how to work with you if you’re like this. You’re probably going to fire me for saying this but I can’t stand this anymore” she shakes her head to reinforce her words.

“Please don’t say that! I don’t want to fire you! I think you’re doin’ a really good job”

“Really?” She asks surprised, he’s never really told her that.

“Yes, of course! I’m so sorry I’ve been a dick to you, for this past month. I… I’ve got some trust issues, ya know? and It takes me a while to get accustomed to new people but… I shouldn’t have been so hard on you. It’s not your fault”

“I thought you kind of hated me” she admits.

“I could never,” he shakes his head, “I’m so sorry I made you feel that way”

“Yeah” she sniffles, “you really were a dick” she chuckles once she sees the surprised look on his face. “Plus I’m the only one who knows how to make your little soup” she adds.

“Oh, you’re right” he agrees, “I could never fire you, then. You’re trapped”

“Ah! You’re trapped” she giggles, the tears starting to dry on her face and a bit of color returning to her cheeks.

“But… really, I’m so sorry. I promise it won’t happen again” he says again, looking directly in her eyes to make sure she understands he’s serious.

“Okay” she says softy, sniffling.

“Now” he trails off, “I’m really hungry. Should we go get something to eat?”

October

“Halloween is not fun.” Harry says, crossing his arms on his chest like a petulant child.

YN rolls her eyes for what seems like the millionth time, a groan escaping from her parted lips: “but it is!!” She says again.

The discussion had been opened by Harry himself, claiming he didn’t understand all the excitement YN had claimed to be feeling about Halloween.

It’s not like he doesn’t like Halloween, he just doesn’t like… scary stuff.

He hates horror movies and he hates everything paranormal — sure, he loves Twilight (he’s watched it twice already since fall started) but that movie according to him is on a whole other level, and it can’t be described as scary as much as it is angst-y.

So, when he heard YN all giddy and giggly about this god awful day, he couldn’t just not say what he really thinks of it. Of course she’d love Halloween, Harry thinks.

“I think you just never truly had the whole Halloween experience” she shrugs from her position on the couch.

“Trust me,” he says seriously, “I did. Jeff forced me to watch all the Saw movies… it was awful. Couldn’t sleep properly until Christmas”

YN has to refrain herself from laughing.

“That’s not what I mean! Watching scary movies is like… the last thing on the list of fun things to do for Halloween”

“Yeah?” He challenges, turning around in his turning chair to face her, his skin dewy with the moisturizer he’d been massaging on his face.

“Yes! My favorite is pumpkin painting” she beams excitedly.

“Pumpkin painting? You have to have made that up” he furrows his brows.

“What! No! It’s been a thing for… Ugh I don’t know but it’s really fun and I always do it. Come see!” She pats the couch next to her and grabs her phone from the pocket of her hoodie, opening her camera roll and scrolling with her finger until she reaches last year.

He rolls his eyes at her, getting up from the chair nonetheless.

He doesn’t sit next to her, instead he towers over her and lowers his head to look at the screen of her phone, his shin touching her knees “ye have a lot of pictures on that damn phone”.

“Shh!! Here!” She opens the pic and shows it to him: a big pumpkin rests on what seems like a kitchen counter, its previous orange skin painted the brightest shade of pink, with some white splotches of paint that Harry thinks could be little ghosts by their pair of eyes made with two black dots.

“Wow… that clearly is something…”

“okay! — she sighs, locking her phone — I didn’t say I was good at it. ‘S just fun an’ I always do it with me mum!” She lifts her head and their eyes lock, his are a bright emerald green today, and she can see herself reflected in them, clearly, and she wonders for a moment how he sees her, what he thinks of her. It lasts only a moment, though, because he averts his gaze quickly, and just as quickly he straightens his posture, towering over her once again.

“‘S a cute idea” he agrees, taking a step back to put some distance between them.

YN nods in agreement, picking up her laptop to get back to work immediately.

Everything is green.

…

Harry is hiding something.

He’s been giddy all day and YN noticed first thing in the morning, when she happened to toe his shoe off when he was walking in front of her and he didn’t say anything (it’s the only thing that drives him mad. Like… really mad. He once snapped at her in front of everyone because she kept doing it — accidentally of course). Now, this is not to say Harry can’t have a good day. Since that night in her hotel room, things have been really good between them, and even if their relationship is strictly professional, YN wonders whether a friendship could blossom between them.

But, she’s also gotten to know him rather well in the two months she’s been working for him, and she knows when he’s hiding something.

It all started yesterday, when he pretended he had to run some errands alone, and demanded YN stayed at the hotel “to check no one broke into his room” which is a really fucking stupid excuse. When he got back to his room it was late in the night and YN was snacking on some chips, all snuggled up and cozy in his bed, on the verge of falling asleep.

Nothing seemed different about him since the last time she saw him, and she wondered for a brief minute whether he went out to meet with someone. Having a personal assistant be with you 24/7 can be really invalidating to any romantic relationship someone could want to establish.

If the only way harry could get a significant other (or even only a sneaky link, YN isn’t one to judge) was to hide from her and demanded her to stay back, it was really pathetic on her part. She pretends like the thought of Harry with someone else doesn’t irritates her. (She’s been stuck all evening in his hotel room while he went out and about!!)

“Whatcha doin’ in my bed, pet?” He teases once he enters the room, toeing his shoes off and leaving them by the door.

“Your bed is way comfier than mine” she grins, squeezing the comforter closer to her body.

“I bet” he chuckles.

“Yeah. But I’m the one working all day so I should get the comfier bed” she shrugs.

“You’re working?” He says, feigning shock as he brings a hand to his chest, “I thought you were my friend willingly!”

“Oh fuck” she sighs, “Jeff told me not to tell you… I must have forgotten”

“You really are a menace” he chuckles and she giggles, making room for him as he plops down next to her.

“What are ye watchin’?”

“Just an old episode of How to get away with murder” she says, pressing the “ok” button on the remote to show him the title.

“Never heard of tha’” he furrows his brows, repositioning himself so his legs are stretched out in front of him.

“You’ve never… what?! That’s crazy! This is probably the best tv show since Grey’s Anatomy went down hill!”

“Is it scary?” He asks, his brows furrowing on his forehead.

“No, not in that sense at least”

“Okay, then.” He gestures to the remote, “let’s watch it.”

She grins at him and nods, selecting the first episode from the menu. She presses play and when the show starts running, she grabs the chips she was previously nibbling on, putting them between their bodies and telling him that if he wants some to just take them.

The light from the tv illuminates the otherwise dark room, and YN has to refrain herself from turning her head to look at his profile.

She smiles Every time he gasps when something unexpected happens, and when the first episode ends, he begs her to put the second straight away. She does, and she listens to his calm breaths that almost lull her to sleep. The bed is comfortable and his warmth from beside her makes her feel safe and soft, and YN thinks it’s really nice he’s doing this with her. She doesn’t stop to wonder what it means.

…

It’s only the next day that YN gets to finally find out what Harry has been hiding.

Turns out, he actually wasn’t sneaking out to meet someone behind her back!

That morning Harry had knocked loudly on her door, tantalizingly sing-songing her name. When she had opened the door, still wearing her pjs and her hair all messy, she had furrowed her brows deeply on her forehead: “Harry!” She had reprimanded him, “it’s 7 in the morning!”

“Shh, lemme come in” he begged, jumping on his place excitedly.

He’s wearing his workout clothes and YN knows from his schedule that he has an appointment with his personal trainer at 7.30.

“What’s wrong?”

“Tonight, after the show, don’t make any plans. I need you for something very serious and very important.”

And YN would really like to tell him that it’s not like she’d ever make any plans that didn’t revolve around him, but she nods nonetheless, still a bit startled from his irruption in her room that early in the morning.

That’s how they ended up here, on the floor of his hotel room, probably more than thirty tubes of paint splattered messily in front of them, and two giant pumpkins resting between their legs.

“It’s officially a week before Halloween!” Harry had said, taking the pumpkin out of the bag and showing it to her triumphantly.

YN had gasped, her hands coming up to cover her mouth shockingly. Never in a million years would she have thought that was what he planned to do.

She feels warm inside, like a light has been switched up and is warming all her limbs, her chest, her belly. She doesn’t know if he realizes how much this means to her.

She carefully takes the pumpkin he’s handing to her and sits cross legged on the floor. He sits down next to her, and their knees are brushing with every movement one of them makes.

“Pass me the remote, please?” He asks.

She nods and grabs it from the bed behind her, handing it to him.

“I really need to find out who killed her” he says seriously, turning the tv on. “Is it Sam?”

YN chuckles sitting next to him, shaking her head as she bends her back down to grab a paint brush.

“I’m not tellin’ you! That takes away all the fun”

“I don’t care, YN. I won’t be able to sleep if you don’t tell me!”

“You’re so dramatic” she giggles.

She hands him a brush too and he thanks her with a mischievous grin, “if I end up dying from exhaustion it’s on you!”

“Shhh, ‘s startin’” she gestures to the tv and they both turn their head to it.

YN grabs a tube of red paint and opens it, squirting a small pump on the plate Harry had gotten her.

“What are ya making?” He asks her after a while.

“I don’t know” she shrugs, “I was thinking something simple like… red hearts”

“Tha’s cute” he agrees, “should I make it How to get away with murder themed?”

YN starts giggling, pushing his shoulder with hers, “that would be cute I guess”

“I’m just kidding. Although I think I could totally rock that”

“Yeah, you would” she agrees.

Harry ends up making it Mickey Mouse themed, drawing two big red ears a pair of big black eyes. He even helps YN with hers (she settled on something more minimalistic) which is ironic because even though she’s the one that loves art, she’s not really good at it.

Harry even snapped a few pictures to send to his mum, one with YN too, “wait, stay right there. Show the pumpkins!!”

“Harry the paint is still fresh I can’t — ugh fine!” She says lifting her pumpkin by the stem.

He leans in next to her, their temples almost touching, and Harry snaps the picture, a warm smile on his face, dimples showing and all. “Mum’s gonna love this.”

They watch a couple more episodes of this tv show Harry has gotten obsessed with, and once the clock strikes midnight YN is so exhausted Harry has to finish her pumpkin for her.

Her eyes are aching and she brings her fingers to press on them, hoping to relieve some of the burning.

“Everything all right?” He asks turning his head to look at her.

“Yes” she nods, “just forgot my glasses and the tv is hurting my eyes”

“Wait” he tells her, standing up on his feet quickly. He heads over to his bedside table and opens the drawer, rummaging through all the stuff he keeps inside it.

He sits back down after a minute, closer than he was before, and he shows her a pair of glasses, “here”.

She looks at him surprised, and “thank you” she says, grabbing them from his hand and sliding them on.

The glasses are comfortable, with a kind of thick frame, and she understands immediately they are a much better quality than hers.

She’s surprised she can see clearly with them, and she enjoys the much needed rest the glasses provide. She leans her head on the back of the bed behind her and sighs contentedly.

“Better?” He asks.

“Much better.”

“I didn’t know you wore glasses” he says after a while, his gaze still on the tv, “never seen you wear ‘em”

“Yeah” she agrees, embarrassed, “‘s just… don’t really like the way I look in them. Plus it’s not like I’m completely blind!” She hurries to add “they just get really tired and… yeah”

He turns his head to look at her, his brows furrowed on his forehead and his eyes scrutinizing her face.

She feels embarrassed under his gaze and she squirms imperceptibly in her spot.

“You look proper cute, actually” he says with a swift nod as to reinforce his words.

She blushes and prays that he doesn’t notice, mumbling a ‘thank you’ and quickly averting her gaze back to the tv.

She feels once again that warm feeling inside her, but this time it’s all over her body and it’s kind of overwhelming.

She debates whether she should leave or stay, but Harry’s presence is so comforting beside her, and it’s not like his comment has to mean anything.

It’s just a compliment.

Like a friend would to another. Right?

…

It’s not easy to avoid your boss.

Harry is everywhere, and it’s not like YN wants to avoid him, it’s just inevitable since she realized she actually has a crush on him.

On the span of these three days YN tried to tell herself it wasn’t that big of a deal; Harry is handsome, he almost resembles an angel, and he’s funny, and since he’s warmed up to her she realized he’s also nice, and caring, and soft. His smile is bright as the sun. His eyes are a peculiar shade of green she has never seen before and she noticed some nights they turn almost blue and she really would like to ask him why but she figures that’s way overstepping her boundary so she just keeps quiet every time she notices it.

And he’s many things all together.

And maybe if she avoids him this feeling will go away and everything will go back to normal sooner than later.

On the fourth day, he catches her on her way back to his dressing room and she almost has an heart attack. She had been so careful up to that point!!!

She was sure he was still in the shower, and she needed to grab her sweatshirt from the dressing room since it was starting to get chilly, but once she opened the door, there he was, sitting on the couch in only a towel and a sweatshirt. Her sweatshirt. She feels like she could combust any second.

“YN! Hey!” He cheerfully greets her once he notices her, locking his phone and leaving it next to him on the couch.

“Hi, H” she replies “just needed to grab my… sweatshirt” she clears her throat embarrassed, pointing towards his torso.

He looks down to himself and then his eyes widen in surprise, “this one’s yours? I’m so sorry pet, thought ‘t was mine!”

“Tha’s fine” she shrugs, trying not to dwell too much on the fact that he called her a pet name.

“You wan’ it back?” He asks, grinning.

“No, no that’s fine, I’ll find something else” but before she can even answer he’s already getting up, slipping out of the sweatshirt. He walks towards her and hands it to her, “hav’to get ready soon anyway”.

She nods and as he walks to his clothing rack where his outfit is already displayed, and YN lets her eyes linger for a brief moment on his back, his skin is already moisturized and YN wonders if it feels as soft as it looks, his little moles and freckles look like little constellations on the skin of his back, like the Gods blew stars onto it when they created him, and the color of his skin is almost lunar-like, despite how much sun he gets.

“Feel like I haven’t seen ya in ages” he interrupts the silence after a while, and YN watches as he picks up his tank top from one of the hangers and slips it onto his head.

She nods when he turns to her, the tank top is white and she can see the faint ink of his tattoos, “had so much work to do” she sighs.

“Are you sayin’ I’m overworking you?” He chuckles, and she’s quick to say: “no! No! Just… you know with Harryween coming up there’s so much stuff to do”

“Yeah” he agrees, “maybe tonight we can watch a couple of episodes…?” He questions tentatively.

YN would really like to say yes. She really would.

“I’m really tired, Harry…” she trails off, “maybe another night?”

“Yeah of course” he shrugs.

He leans down to slip on his leather trousers, tossing the towel on the couch next to him.

“But you can obviously go on though!! I already know what happened and…”

“What? No! I don’t want to watch it without you, that’s our thing.” He says, shaking his head and furrowing his brows, “‘s okay, I can wait a couple days. Even though I hav’to tell ya… i think I may be in withdrawal… i have been tempted to look up spoilers online”

She giggles at his playfulness, “Harry! I told you not to do that!”

“That’s why I didn’t! But eventually I have to know, I have a couple of ideas on who did it though”

“I’m not saying anything”

“Fine” he groans jokingly, “but you have to admit I deserve an award for putting up with all your torture”

“You’re so dramatic!” She laughs through her teeth.

“Yeah, yeah. Actually!” He starts, and he smiles a malicious smile YN is afraid to know what it means, “everything would be forgiven if you came shopping with me tomorrow”

“Harry! I have so much stuff to do! I can’t just ditch everything to go shopping with you”

“Please!!” He pleas almost like a petulant child, “I don’t want to go alone! ’s boring!”

“Jeff gave me so much stuff… you know how he gets when I don’t get things done” she sighs. She’s still holding the sweatshirt he gave (back) to her, and she squeezes it against her chest.

“Screw Jeff” Harry shrugs, passing a hand through his hair to comb it.

“He’s literally my boss”

“No” he’s quick to say, walking towards her and stopping when he’s in front of her, crossing his arms on his chest “Jeff is your employer. I’m your boss” he chuckles darkly, poking her in the stomach playfully.

“Uggh fine! I’ll come” she sighs, finally giving in to his demand. “But you’re buyin’ me coffee tomorrow”

“Deal” he nods his head swiftly.

She rolls her eyes and gives him a little shove on the shoulder, “see ya after the show! Good luck”

“Thank you pet” he says smiling at her softly.

She gives a small smile back and turns to walk out the door.

Once she’s out, the cold air of the AC hits her, and she’s quick to slip over her head the sweatshirt she actually came to get in the first place.

It’s still warm and his sweet musky scent lingers on it. She buries her nose into it and walks to find Jeff, telling him the new plans for the next day.

…

“I need you to do my makeup”

It’s the 31st of October, just a couple of hours before Harryween, and Harry still isn’t dressed in his Dorothy costume.

His makeup artist had texted him that she wouldn’t be available to work on Halloween (she has young children and couldn’t miss a chance to spend the holiday with them!), but Harry was so busy he hadn’t paid too much mind to it. He knew if it got to the point where no one else was available, he could do it himself. It’s just makeup, it’s not supposed to be hard.

Well, turns out, it is hard.

So, YN was really his last hope.

That’s why he knocked loudly on her hotel door, impatiently waiting for her to open it.

He heard her groan and then the sound of feet walking quickly towards him.

“What!” She says before even checking who it was.

“I need you to do my makeup”.

That’s how they ended up in her room, both sitting cross legged on her floor with a bunch of makeup bags opened next to them.

She would really like to be fussy and pouty about it, because not only he has her working on Halloween (she didn’t specifically ask for the day off, but she figured it wasn’t necessary for her to be at the entire show and he could’ve maybe let her off a little earlier, but, no — he had demanded she stayed through the entirety of the show) plus now she’s going to be late and she probably won’t have time to do her own makeup like she wanted specially for her costume!!

but… how can she possibly complain when he’s sitting in front of her like an obedient puppy, looking at her with curious green eyes every time she takes a product out of her bag?

This little crush she has on him is starting to get out of control! Instead of being annoyed at him she’s referring to him as a cute puppy! what is wrong with her!

“Wha’s that for?” He asks, pointing to the little tube of moisturizer she takes out.

“Moisturizer. This one’s lighter than the one you use because I have oily skin, but I reckon it could work as well” she pops the cap open and squirts a small amount on the tip of her fingers.

She warms it between her hands before looking at him questioning, silently asking for his permission to touch his face.

He nods immediately once he understands, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Hold your hair for me please”

He brings a hand to his forehead and tucks away the curls that fell onto it.

YN feels her heart beat hard against her chest as she gets closer to smear the cream onto his face, massaging his cheekbones and his sinuses to ease the product into his skin.

Harry sighs once she starts massaging his temples, and he makes sure to thank God in his head for his makeup artist and her children, because YN is really gentle.

She has really soft fingers and her touch is delicate, and he thinks she touches him like something fragile that is worth preserving. And he likes the feeling a little too much.

“All done!” She beams, removing her hands from his face (she even dragged the cream onto his neck!).

“Now I think we should do eyebrows” she takes out a small black spoolie and she starts brushing through his brows, “I don’t think yours need much filling.” She ponders, “maybe just in a couple spots we can make ‘em more thick if you’d like”.

He nods, “I’d like that”.

“Okay!” She grabs her pencil and draws a couple of stray hair.

“Now… I think mascara. And then we’ll do the blush. Close your eyes” she instructs, unscrewing the tube of mascara and removing the excess on the tip. She brings a hand to his eye and presses her thumb to his eyelid, that way she can see his eyelashes better.

She starts coating them with the mascara, first one eye and then the other repeating the same process as well, “your lashes are so long” she whispers, almost to herself, but she hears him chuckle through his nose nonetheless.

“All done!”

He opens his eyes and they flutter a couple of times, the new added weight of the mascara kind of uncomfortable at first.

Once he gets accustomed to it, he looks at her with his piercing bright green eyes.

YN looks between them as she closes the tube mascara; they’re the deepest shade of green today, and the black coating his lashes is only making them stand out more.

“Now?” He asks, and she tries to hide her blush as she tilts her head down to rummage through her bag.

“Blush! I’m thinking lots of blush!”

She takes out a bright cherry blush and “that’s way too red” he protests, furrowing his brows.

She shushes him immediately, “just trust me on this ‘s gonna look so cute!!!”

This time he doesn’t close his eyes, but he chooses to look at her.

The concentrated expression on her face is really cute, her brows are furrowed as she applies the blush with her fingers (she explained she prefers fingers because brushes can irritate the skin and cause break outs and she doesn’t want that).

He feels her apply some on his nose too, and he involuntarily scrunches it. She giggles at it and then keeps blending the blush on his skin.

From this angles YN can see he has freckles on his nose, and she doesn’t know why but it makes her feel warm. He seems more real like this, his nose sensitive and with a constellation of freckles on it. She wonders if they get darker in the sun, and she figures she’ll probably know once the summer arrives.

“Looks proper cute!!!” She sighs dreamily, looking at his face to admire the finished look. “I just know your fans will go crazy” she smiles softly.

He grins at her and gets up on his feet, heading for the bathroom to look at himself.

“Fuck I look good!” She hears him say from the bathroom, “the blush is my favorite part”.

She smiles to herself as she starts tidying her makeup back into the bags, even if it’s pointless really because she has to do her own now.

She gets up from the floor and checks for the time on her phone that’s charging on the bedside table, just as Harry gets out of the bathroom. She still has a hour and a half to get ready, and she thinks she could make it work.

“Thank you again, pet” he smiles down at her and she suddenly feels too hot and breathless.

“It’s okay, no problem at all!”

…

It’s past midnight once YN finally returns to the hotel.

A guy from the crew named Peter (he’s a light technician) invited YN to go out with him and his friends, but she’s so tired she declined politely, promising to make up for it another time.

She doesn’t really know what Harry is doing, and she wonders if Peter invited him as well and if perhaps he declined, but she doesn’t have to wonder much because not even half an hour later she hears a knock on her door.

She’s already wearing her Halloween themed Snoopy pajamas, and if it was any other situation she’d probably feel embarrassed, but she’s so tired she just can’t wait to get to bed.

When she opens the door she sees it’s Harry, and she notices — happily — that he’s wearing his pajamas as well (His consist of a pair of plaid pants and a grey hoodie, but still a pajamas nonetheless), and his face is free of the makeup she’d put on him that same afternoon.

He holds in his hands two full grocery bags, and she looks pointedly at him.

“Can I come in? My arms are starting to get sore”

She nods and moves to the side to let him in, closing the door behind them after.

“So.” He starts, placing the bags on her bed, “I was about to go to bed when I realized it’s still Halloween”

She furrows her brows at him, “I thought that was like the whole point of Harryween?”

He chuckles at her, “of course, I know. That’s what I’m saying exactly.”

“I don’t follow?”

“I had you work on Halloween! You told me before how much you love Halloween and I didn’t think to give you the day off”

“Oh, Harry. It’s okay, really! Don’t worry about that, it’s stupid!” She says, but not without blushing a little.

She knows it’s just decent courtesy to remember conversations one shared with another, but she says a lot of stuff and she didn’t really think he would remember! Plus, he doesn’t really like Halloween, so she thought he’d actually regard her interest in celebrating it as annoying.

“It’s not stupid” he shakes his head, “I thought to remedy as best I could. But I have to confess, Jeff did the grocery shopping so I can’t take credit for it.”

She giggles and walks closer to the bed, peeking her head to look inside the bags, “it’s okay. You were busy”.

He laughs and nods, spilling the bags onto the bed. An undefined amount of sweets fall on the bed, and YN gasps at how many choices of candies and chocolates Jeff picked out.

“Fuck! i think he got every possible candy available” he snorts.

She agrees with a laugh, “what are we supposed to do with all this food?”

“I know it’s not the best but I thought we could watch a movie and eat it? But if you want to go to sleep that’s fine I mean I-“

He doesn’t know why he suddenly feels embarrassed.

What was he thinking? Walking into her room like a maniac with two bags full of candy and expecting her to be down to watch a movie with him. She works for him. This is entirely not appropriate and he’s aware of that, but… when he saw her on the side of the stage, singing mindlessly along to Golden, dressed as Princess Belle he realized how cruel he had been to take Halloween away from her.

Not only had he deemed it as “not fun” right in front of her enthusiasm, he also specifically requested for her to work, and even if she had not expressed formal complaints, she probably should have.

Because he had been a dick.

So, in his quick pee break, instead of freeing his bladder, he texted Jeff if he could do him a big favor and grab every single candy he could get his hands of, recommending specifically to get as many choices to pick from as he could (he didn’t know what YN liked and he couldn’t risk it).

YN quickly interrupts his train of thoughts, “okay!!! But I get to choose the movie though”

“Okay, -- he nods amused -- Deal. But — he says, picking up the remote from the coffee table to hand it to her — Nothing too spooky”

YN gets comfortable on the bed next to Harry, the candies resting at their feet. He has a package of Sour Patch Kids resting on his tummy, and every time YN wants one she has to move her arm, and it brushes against his chest.

She feels… weird. It’s weird to her that he would do something like that, and she doesn’t know what to make of it. If it was any other case, if a guy did something like this for her, she’d immediately thought of it as a date, or a way to show interest in her but with Harry… it’s different.

She doesn’t think he likes her like that.

Maybe he sees her as a friend? She doesn’t think she’s particularly fun, but he always chooses to hang out with her, even after a tiring day…

She gets shaken out of her thoughts once she hears him gasp from next to her.

“Oh God, what happened?” She looks at him pointedly.

“I told you no scary movies!” He whines childishly, closing his lips in a pout.

“Harry! ‘S Caroline! It’s not scary!” She can’t help but giggle at him.

“It’s scary to me” he huffs, taking a candy from the package and popping it into his mouth. He takes another one and shows it to her, which she gladly takes from his fingers.

“I promise if you get past the scary part it’s really good”

“Fine” he nods, “I’ll watch it. But please tell me once it gets scary again”

She smiles fondly at him and nods back, “yes, don’t worry about it.”

...

“You know, you were right… once you see past the scary scenes it’s actually a pretty good-“

It’s after the movie has finished that Harry realizes YN has fallen asleep next to him.

He rolls his lips into his mouth to bite back a smile, grabbing the remote to shut off the tv.

She must be so tired.

He has her working non stop while she should be out and having fun at her age. She isn’t that much younger than him, but he knows how much can change from your early to your late twenties.

He also knows he should get up from the bed and go sleep in his own one, but… he’s really comfortable right now and she’s really warm next to him, and she smells like candies and vanilla, the perfect scent to lull him to sleep.

He’s also very tired, and before he knows it, his eyes are closing shut and his mind is already wondering to faraway countries, with cotton candy skies and chocolatey grass.

The air smells like vanilla, and he doesn’t know if he’s dreaming or if it’s her next to him, he just knows he was definitely wrong; Halloween isn’t as bad as he thought.

it's hereeee and it's halloween themed ;))) (!!!!!) let me know what you think and if you want part 2!!!! taglist: @gem1712 @jerseygirlinca @lexiecamposv @ameerakane20 @lovrave @mema10 @sunshinemoonsposts

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kamiversee · 1 month

Text

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 52 || The Things Done in Private

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, smut, & angst if u squint.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 4.6k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——WHILE YOU WERE BUSY confessing your love to Choso and having that long-ass conversation in his car, Geto and Yuki had been left in the cafe.

When you initially left to chase after Choso, Geto and Yuki turned to each other before laughing. They found the entire thing entertaining more than ever and swore they were watching a drama unfold.

But, after the shared laughter, Yuki smacked Geto’s arm, “Now, why the hell did you cause all that?” She asked with a raised brow.

Geto snickered, “Because there’s too much they don’t know about each other.”

Yuki scoffed, “Meaning?”

“I can’t explain it all to you since it’s not my place but, trust me when I say, there are things she needs to talk to him about,” Geto explained vaguely.

“Right… So you and her really were good friends?”

“We could’ve ended up besties,” Geto hums, shrugging to himself, “But, I didn’t want to put myself between her and…”

“Her and Choso?” Yuki questions with a tilt of her head.

“No, someone else,” Geto murmurs. He didn’t want to mention Gojo again because, in his mind, Yuki didn’t need to know all of your business, “Anyway, I brought up Sukuna to help the two. Watch them come back as a married couple within the next thirty minutes.”

Yuki scoffs, “Y’know what, let’s bet on it!” She exclaims, moving to stick her hand out, “Thirty minutes; she comes back alone ready to kick your ass because you fucked it all up for her.”

Geto snickers and moves to shake the blonde’s hand, “Thirty minutes; they come back together happier than ever.”

The two shake each other’s hands firmly, solidifying their bet and deciding that the loser would have to buy the winner something.

Turns out they were both wrong though because as they spent the rest of their time together talking and catching up, two hours had passed, and neither you nor Choso had returned. It was raining outside and the sound of thunder is what caused Geto to remember the bet made.

He turned to look out the window behind him, seeing how hard it was raining, and letting out a scoff, “Seems we were both wrong.”

“Think they’re okay?” Yuki asks.

“I’m sure they’re fine,” Geto shrugged, “Probably long gone by now anyway.”

Yuki sighed and moved to rest her cheek against her knuckles, “That’s no funn, they were supposed to come backkk…”

Geto shakes his head at the woman as he moves to stand up, her eyes following him, “It’s for the best, I’m sure. Plus, it started raining not too long after they walked out so it makes sense they didn't come back.”

She rolls her eyes at him, “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Where are you going?”

“Home,” Geto sighs, “I have a roommate to feed.”

Yuki lets out a snort, “To feed? You talk about Gojo as if he were a pet.”

“He is sometimes,” The raven-haired male jokes, “But I meant I should go home and tell him what happened here, he’d want to know.”

She raises a brow, “Why?”

“He’s nosy and will wanna know why I stayed out longer than I told him I would,” Geto explains, chuckling to himself as he grabs his things.

“So basically,” Yuki starts laughing a bit, “You have to keep your boyfriend updated with your social life?”

Geto frowns, “He’s not my boyfriend, stop that.”

The woman begins to snicker, “Right, right, sure.”

Geto rolls his eyes and after grabbing his bag, he turns to walk away, “I’ll see you later, Yuki.”

“Oh come onn, you can’t just leave me here!” She huffs, “At least give me a ride homeee…”

“Nope, you’re the one who thought a bike would be a better investment than a car,” Geto replies as he furthers away from her.

The sound of her groaning dramatically is the last thing Geto hears before exiting the cafe. He was lucky enough to have an umbrella in the bag he brought with him so he quickly opened the item and swung it up and over his head.

Making his way through the parking lot, he sees that Choso’s car is no longer where it was earlier and the sight makes Geto curious. He then glances to where he remembers your car being parked and once he sees it was left in the same place, he smiles to himself.

He knew things would work out just fine.

After that, Geto makes it to his vehicle and steadily gets in. Today was quite the day and he started to wonder what his best friend was doing while you were here at the cafe all this time…

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The answer to that was simple.

Gojo Satoru had been going through it at home. Since he had the apartment to himself and no Suguru to vent to because he was out, Gojo was quite literally losing his mind.

From the second you walked out the door, Gojo rested his head against it and wondered if he should go after you and take everything he said back. Perhaps there was a way for him to fix things-

Yeah, no. He purged those thoughts from his mind the moment they came. And of course, to make matters worse, you left him with an annoying tent in his pants.

Gojo let out a groan as he lifted his head from the door and trudged to his bedroom. He kicked his door shut and shuffled over to his bed, laying face first against it and grunting at the friction against his member.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Gojo grumbled to himself. It was one of those aggravating boners that wouldn’t die down.

You often left him like this too. Nearly every time Gojo had the pleasure of kissing you, he’d gotten hard. Whether it was during the kiss or directly after, it never mattered, his cock always sprung up because of you.

Hell, even on Christmas when you first hugged him he had to control his body. You made him feel like a teenager with the way the smallest touches from you went straight to his dick.

As of now, his tip was leaking in precum the more he thought about you. Gojo had to shift around to lay on his back, his legs hanging off the bed as he stared up at his ceiling still thinking about you.

Do you know what you do to him? Are you aware of how much the very idea of you turns him on? Gojo shuts his eyes to try and calm his thoughts but it’s no help, the second his eyelids shut, he’s picturing you all over again.

His hand moves on its own to rest over the bulge in his sweats as he has images of you staring up at him in his head, the sound of you uttering his name simply echoing through his brain.

Fuck, he loved the way you said his name. His fingers curl around his length and he palms himself through his clothes. He’d do anything to hear you moan his name again.

It feels like it’s been forever. Part of Gojo feels like he should’ve kept you with him longer. You were in such a perfect position too, all he’d have to do was lift you up against that door and fuck you right then and there.

His hand movements over the prominent print of his cock grow more eager and Gojo sighs heavily. Then, he decides that his boner isn’t going to go down on its own so he might as well just take care of it already.

Gojo starts to move around, shifting his sweats down enough and sitting up while pulling his phone out. He could use his imagination of you to get off no problem but, another idea had come to mind. It was perverted of him but he didn’t care.

His fingers tapped over his phone screen quickly, moving to head to the nearest social app, which in this case was Instagram. He knew yours by heart and was quick to type it in, feeling like such a pervert as he prepared himself for what he was about to do.

Gojo was beyond desperate so he went through your page, finding a picture of you from the summertime. The caption said something about the last photo being taken by Shoko but Gojo wasn’t paying attention to any of that.

There was a collection of images posted, one in particular imprinted in the man’s brain from a while ago. He swiped through the images before he landed on it. It was taken in a bathroom, dim lighting showing what was important and good god Gojo’s cock was twitching at the sight.

It was the only image posted that could be considered a thirst trap. You hand one hand on the counter and the other up at your lip, the pose seeming as though you were checking yourself out in the mirror. In your reflection, your cleavage was exposed and one of the straps to the thin tank top you wore was hanging off your shoulder.

You were braless but no one could really tell unless they paid close enough attention, which Gojo did. Then, the entirety of your back profile was revealed as well, the arch you had as you leaned forward and the way the small shorts you wore clung to your ass made Gojo let out a heavy breath.

This was so fucked up. He shouldn’t be doing this but there he was anyway, reaching his hand into his briefs and tugging his cock out.

So much of your skin was exposed and the shorts you were wearing was the perfect tease. Gojo knew what you looked like beneath all that after all, he knows what you feel like, what you smell like, what you sound like.

So, this photo of you was just enough to feed his imagination. He knew you at the time this picture was taken, just never talked to you.

Even so, none of that mattered right now, not when this one photo was enough to have Gojo’s mind running rampant. His hand started moving on its own, a groan leaving his lips as his fingers wrapped around his cock and he began to jerk himself off.

He’d done this plenty of times with you in mind but never to a photo before. What would you think if you saw him like this? Legs spread, veiny hands running up and down his shaft as his eyes remained glued to such a teasing picture.

“Fuck,” Gojo moaned, just thinking about you ever seeing him like this drove him crazy.

He soon tosses his phone and just leans back a little, focusing on relieving himself. All he needed was that image in mind to continue, his imagination coaxing him through his acts.

Gojo let out a pant as he started to picture you instead of his hand. He remembered so vividly how you forced him to list all the things he missed about you whilst teasing him, the way your index was swirling around his tip so teasingly— he mimicked the motion and had to bite his lip to conceal a whine.

He recalls how small your hand is compared to his cock and the way you’d jerked him off so slowly. Gojo has every moment with you imprinted into the forefront of his brain, if he thinks hard enough, he could almost feel you over him again.

Your cunt was always so damn wet, so tight, so fucking intoxicating. Gojo’s hand began to increase in pace, slick sounds of him jerking off filling his room. He wishes that the last time he had sex with you, he was able to touch you because fuck is it torture to think back on it now.

He wanted so badly to grab onto your hips and fuck his lengthy cock up into you, only to praise you for taking him so well. And then there was today and the sounds you let out just from a couple of kisses. How whiney and breathy your voice had been as you’d uttered a simple don’t stop while grinding against his leg.

Gojo missed touching you already. His eyes shut for a moment and his lips parted, a whine of your name leaving his lips. Now he was making up scenarios in his head, using that picture you posted as inspiration. He could only imagine the kind of sounds and expressions you’d make if he was ever able to fuck you from behind.

He can picture how your eyes would roll back, the way your jaw would drop and you’d moan his name over and over, and even how your ass would feel bouncing off his pelvis every time he thrust into you. Gojo would take any kind of sex from you right now.

Sloppy sex where it’s all just a mess and both of you are completely fucked out, slow sex where he’s deep inside you and whispering in your ear how much he loves you, or even rough sex where he’s fucking you dumb and hearing you whine about how you can’t take it— even though he knows you can.

“S-Shit-,” Gojo moans again, knowing that you can handle him just makes his mind go blank.

Hell, you’d probably tease him if he were to have sex with you now, tell him how he’s not deep enough just to rile him up, order him to fuck you harder, and cum inside you. Gojo’s wrist was getting tired from how hard and fast he began stroking his dick.

He needed you so badly. He could hardly bring himself to a proper orgasm anymore. His eyes open and his free hand reaches for his phone again, this time he does something even more desperate. Gojo went to his voicemails, having one saved from you.

It was a while ago and you were cursing him out for something but his brain was too dazed with arousal to remember. What he wanted to hear was simply you saying his name. His thumb was shaking a bit as he went through the message you left, up until he heard your voice mutter his name.

“Satoru-,” He couldn’t hear anything else after that and his head went back, hand stroking himself even faster as he replayed that second of you voicing his name.

“Mmgh… fuck, n-need you s’bad, sweetheart,” He mumbled out, as if you could hear him. Gojo was releasing his moans and groans more freely now.

He soon looked down at how his hand slid up and down his cock so quickly, the amount of precum that’d come out smothering his length and making it seem like he already came. Gojo whined and even whimpered when he pictured you above him, you rode his dick so well that he’d never be able to forget it.

He vividly recalls how your folds parted around his cock, how eagerly your cunt sucked him in. Shit, speaking of sucking, he wished he got to experience that mouth of yours.

Geto bragged about it to him before, telling him you knew how to throat cock surprisingly well. How you’d keep your eyes up despite them watering and flicking to the back of your head. The way you felt moaning around his shaft-, Gojo was losing it.

He had dropped his phone to the side again and his free hand went to his bedsheets, knuckles turning white as his fingers curled into them. His cock ached in his hand, tip twitching as he started to cum mid-stroke.

He didn’t stop though, whimpering out your name so softly as his dick remained hard and he started overstimulating himself.

“Oh shit-,” Gojo moaned into the air, “F-Fuck, fuck… god-,” He tossed his head back again and the wet sounds of him jerking off grew even louder and messier as he spread his cum all over his cock.

You had him this much of a mess. He got this horny because of you. Gojo doesn’t know if he’s ever feined for sex from a specific person this badly in his life. He’d take anything from you, even a text from you right now would help him.

He ended up laying back as he kept stroking himself, recalling the smallest moments with you to get himself off. For example, when you had sex with Suguru, he remembers how you moaned and how loud everything was. He remembers the sound of you creaming around his best friend.

Gojo’s member was twitching again while he remembered how loudly the slap of your skin to his best friend’s was. His hand squeezes around his cock and he chokes as he recalls you riding him in a similar way. His dick had just slipped in and out of you so nicely, so perfectly, he wanted to feel that again.

Then Gojo could only imagine what you were like with other guys, what things you did with them, and how you looked doing so.

He cums yet again at the thought and wonders if you knew the things you did to his body. His orgasm was fine but he swore it’d be better if you were here.

Gojo’s hand eventually came to a stop and he relaxed himself, his cock softening as he huffed out heavy pants. How the hell was he ever going to function properly without you?

He knows he has to but it’d be hard. Did he really just let you go? He could’ve kept blackmailing you…

No. You’d hate that. You’d probably cry. Yeah, Gojo didn’t like thinking about that again. Seeing you cry and even once hearing you cry over the phone still haunted him.

He just finished jerking off to you and now all he can think about is the shit he put you through. But hey, at least it’s over now, right? At least you’re happy.

And safe.

That’s all he cares about at the end of the day. Gojo’s heart will heal. He’ll move on eventually. He’ll go back to normal sooner or later.

Right?

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Wrong. Within the next hour, Gojo was jerking off again.

He had a problem at this point because he was standing beside his bed with a picture of you on his phone as he got off to it. These acts of his just continued.

The slightest thought of you for some reason made his cock twitch back to life. Was he in heat or something? It’s like his body was craving you today more than ever and he didn’t know why.

Sessions of getting off to different pictures and thoughts of you went on and on up until the sound of Geto calling Gojo’s name was heard.

By that point, Gojo was sweating and he had to rush around his bedroom to clean himself off before responding to his roommate.

“Uh, g-gimme’ a sec’,” Gojo huffed.

Even from outside his room, Geto knew what had been going on. After all, it wasn’t the first time he came home to Gojo thirsting after you. Hell, there was a time Geto walked by the bathroom and heard Gojo moan your name.

He knew his white-haired friend had a problem but he never really knew just how bad it was. Or at least, he didn’t know Gojo was simply obsessed with you.

“Satoru, you can’t keep doing this man,” Geto sighed out to his friend.

They hadn’t even laid eyes on one another and Geto already knew what was taking Gojo so long to come out.

After a minute or two, Gojo emerges from his room. Geto had to blink a few times at the sight of his best friend because he was simply a mess.

His hair was disheveled, his eyes were low, heavy pants leaving his lips, the shirt he clearly just put on already had sweat on it, and overall Gojo looked like he just run a marathon.

“Can’t keep doing what?” Gojo questioned casually.

Geto gave the man a blank stare as if to say he’s not dumb and he knew his best friend better than anyone but, afterward, he simply rolled his eyes, “Never mind.” He hums before turning away and heading toward their shared kitchen.

Gojo carefully followed behind his friend as he tried to clear his thoughts of you, “What do you mean never mind? I can’t keep doing what?”

“Jerking off to a woman who’s in love with someone else,” Geto says bluntly.

There’s a slight pang in Gojo’s chest but he ignores it as they both enter the kitchen, “I wasn’t-“

“Satoru, as soon as I walked in here, it smelt like dick…” He grumbles, his face twisting up in slight disgust.

“I-,” Gojo blinks and tilts his head innocently, “How do you know what dick smells like?”

Geto turns and looks at his friend with a blank stare, “I have one, idiot.”

“Okay but-“

“Enough, Satoru.” Geto says sternly, “I know what you were doing in there and there’s no need to deny it.”

“Right…” Gojo’s lips purse together as he goes to take a seat at the island in the middle of their kitchen.

“And I actually ran into your nut material earlier today.” The raven-haired male suddenly says before opening the fridge.

Gojo scoffs, “Nut material? Please don’t call her that.”

Geto snickers at his own comment, “That’s what you treat her like.”

Gojo frowns, “I do not-“

“Saw her with Choso, by the way.” Geto interrupts as he swipes a bottle of water out of the fridge.

“Oh.” Gojo chirps. Then his eyes go wide, “Oh?!”

“Yeah, oh.” He hums.

“How uh,” Gojo swallows hard. He can only imagine what it was like for you to be in the same area as Geto and Choso at the same time, “How did that go?”

“Oh I started an argument.” Geto shrugs before shutting the fridge and opening his water casually.

Gojo’s face twists up, “You what? Why would you do that? And how?”

“Brought up Sukuna just to test the waters, turns out she doesn’t know much about him aaaand Choso was obviously unaware that she slept with him.” Geto snickers a bit as he recalls how it went down.

“Y-You… You could’ve fucked everything up for her!” Gojo suddenly shouts.

His roommate doesn’t seem to get why that’s a bad thing, “Wouldn’t that have worked out in your favor?”

“No, no the fuck it wouldn’t have.” Gojo spits.

“And why not?”

“Because-,” Gojo lets out a heavy sigh, “The only reason she fucked Sukuna is because of me so who do you think she would’ve started hating again?”

Geto nods, thinking that his friend has made a fair point before he comments, “But at least she would’ve come back to you.”

“Yeah, come back to me hurting and pissed off.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Suguru, I don't want her to be with me, I want her to be happy,” Gojo explains.

His friend raises a brow at him, “Your actions say otherwise.”

“How?”

“When she left on Christmas you went in your room and cried the rest of the night.” He recalls.

Gojo scoffs, “I-“

“You don’t go a day without talking about her.” Geto continues.

“Suguru-“

“You’ve been talking about this woman for like three years now,” He reminds the man, “I’m not sure happiness is what you want for her. I think you just want her.”

Gojo stares for a long moment before looking away, “Well I can’t have her.”

“Why not?”

“Because I blackmailed her?” He says.

Geto tilts his head, “So?”

“What do you mean so?”

“Did she not forgive you?”

“Well she did but-“

“Then why couldn’t she have been with you?”

Gojo lets out a groan, “Because that’s fucked up, Suguru.”

“I think we established that a long time ago.” Geto scoffs, “Who cares if it’s fucked up? You pushed her away from you when she wanted to be fucked up with you.”

“She didn’t. She hated me and hated loving me even more.”

“And she has every right to but you’re missing the most important thing here; she loved you.”

“She shouldn’t have.”

“But she did.”

“Okay well, I can’t make her happy.” Gojo results in saying as he shrugs.

Geto bats his eyelashes at the man in confusion, “Why not?”

“Because I just can’t.”

“I don’t get you, y’know. You can’t even tell me what’s going on and I’m your best friend?”

“It doesn’t matter now anyway,” Gojo dismisses his question entirely, “The list is over and she’s happy.”

“Is she?” Geto challenges.

“Yes, yes she is.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I just do.”

Geto blinks, “That makes no sense-“

“Suguru, she’s happy now. Alright? Just leave it alone.” Gojo sighs.

The two get quiet after that. Geto moves to sip from his water and Gojo simply sits there with a tense expression.

After a while of silence, Geto just begins to explain how the entire cafe situation went from start to finish. He tells Gojo how he basically spilled the necessary info in order to give you the opportunity to tell Choso the truth.

Gojo asks why exactly he did that and Geto just tells him that he was right, you did seem happy but he knew that happiness wouldn’t last if the things you’d been doing never came to light. Again, Gojo gets upset and the two even argue about it.

That only results in Geto telling Gojo how you and Choso worked it all out anyway because when he left, your car was still there but Choso’s wasn’t.

Gojo couldn’t believe his best friend, even though the man was trying to help you, things could’ve gone so much worse for you. And knowing that made Gojo anxious because his best friend said that either way— Gojo would win.

If things went bad between you and Choso, you would’ve come back to Gojo without a doubt. But, since things went fine, Gojo still got what he wanted, which is you being happy.

So, Geto basically explains that what he caused was a win-win situation for his roommate who he knows cares oh so deeply about you.

Given that, by the end of their conversation, Gojo is still bothered by the chance of things almost going south for you but, he’s still thankful to his best friend to some extent. It’s not the worst thing that could’ve happened after all…

Thus resulting in Gojo back in his bedroom later that night, staring at your contact and wondering if he should call you. He didn’t want to ruin anything of course, he simply wanted to get info from you on how things went.

He knows you ended up leaving with Choso but that doesn’t tell him everything else that happened. Then again, Gojo is supposed to see you again to burn that cursed journal of yours so, he shuts his phone off and decides to simply wait until then.

He’ll learn everything when he sees you again and hopefully… Hopefully Gojo will be able to let you go. There’s too much guilt inside him to hold onto you any longer so he sees the burning of that journal as the end of a dark era for him.

That’ll be the end of his story with you, right?

Yeah, Gojo grins to himself, he thinks he can live with that.

GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ITADORI SUKUNA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???

NANAMI KENTO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙙

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tags;

@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx

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bomertheshark · 6 months

Text

Riding

A Nanami Kento x top male reader

Short

You can’t quite remember how you got to this point. The very man who you had been chasing for ages now was now bouncing up and down your cock in pure bliss… what the hell happened?

You had an infatuation with a man named Kento Nanami, he had been working at your firm for some time now. You met him when he was a new guy since you were the assistant of the guy who had to show him the ropes. You thought he was a nice enough person, not too talkative but still not timid. The only real conversation you had was at a company dinner. You had been sitting across from each other and decided to strike up a conversation with him. Through out the entire night you both talked about this and that as he drank, you never drank much so you decided that tonight was not the night to try and hold your own. You learned a lot about him that night since his lips had gotten loose from the alcohol, and you suppose that’s when it all started. You spent months after that trying to get him to date you. You weren’t shy about it either, you came out and just confessed of course he thought you were joking but that didn’t matter to you, you never stopped flirting with him. You would talk to him everyday going out of your way to have lunch with him and other things to try and court him.

“Listen I think you should stay for dinner, I know it’s a cliche you know, stay for dinner cause it’s raining and I’ll confess my love to you that whole thing. But I just think it’ll be safer and we spent a long time on this project and I think we could use a break, plus you already know I like you and I’m one hell of a cook. And it’s not like this overtime or anything. ” You said moving around your kitchen to start preparing for the meal. “I suppose it’s fine, just don’t try to get me to stay any later than that.” He said as a response while going to sit down at the island.

After making the dish and serving it you sat across from him and ate in silence. “Is there anything you’d like to drink while we eat? I have wine, beer, champagne, water and some soft drinks.” You said after swallowing a bite of your food. “Some wine would be nice, preferably red.” He said in response “yeah I have some Saldo… does that work?” “That’s perfectly acceptable.” You poured the both of you some Saldo albeit you have yourself less just so that you could keep a clear mind in your own home.

Time had passed and you had finished one bottle of the Zinfandel. You cleared the plates and put them in the dishwasher. You were thankful you hadn’t had that much to drink as it seemed that your counterpart was having a hard time being clear headed. He had gotten up to help with the dishes but had ended up leaning on you and rubbing his face into your neck. To say this was embarrassing was an understatement, not only was your coworker probably drunk but he also happened to be the very man you had been attracted to for months.

“Okay Nanami I’m sure you don’t have a very clear mind right now so why don’t you sleep it off on my couch, I’ll make sure you’re on your way after you’ve sobered up.” You say to him trying to pull his arms off of you and start walking to the couch. He obviously didn’t like this idea as he whined a cling onto you tighter. Once you managed to get him on the couch you were turning to walk away and get the blanket that had fallen off in the process when he had grabbed you and you fell on top of him, he obviously enjoyed the position as he keened and started to wrap his arms around your head. This was a very compromising position for you, you could feel yourself start to get hard and flush. “Look Nanami we are coworkers and while yes I do really like you I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to do this when you are intoxicated.” You managed to get out of his grip as he whined and stood up. You have him the blanket and as soon as he got situated he fell asleep.

You finished the dishes and decided to go ahead and go to bed since Kento was already asleep for the night. You fell asleep pretty quick since you were exhausted from the work and trying to deal with Nanami.

You were having the strangest dream when you woke up to a weird feeling. It felt like someone was in your room, you looked at the clock to see it was 4 o’clock in the morning. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes you looked around to see Nanami standing near your bed, in confusion and a bit of fear you asked “what are you doing in here Nanami? Did you want to go home now? I can get up and take you if you really want to leave.” He didn’t respond just getting closer to the bed. “Nanami..? Nanami you’re freaking me out a little I can’t see you that well.” At this point he was now at the foot of your bed, you couldn’t see his face but you knew it was him, why wasn’t he wearing any pants…? “Kento are you alright?” He got on your bed, starting to crawl towards you as you backed up. “Are you still drunk Kento? You’re freaking me out man talk to me.” He was now straddling you peering down at you, you had put your hands on his thighs to stabilize him, when he started to grind on you you knew something was weird.

All of that led to now. Where the man who you had been chasing for months was now on top of you riding you like his life depended on it. With every rock of his body he gasped at how deep you reached. This was your third round and it was already day break. The both of you were sweating and panting, the pleasure that coursed through your veins spurred you on and you continued letting him ride you as he used your chest to stabilize himself. The view was impeccable. You couldn’t believe that you were experiencing this with the very man who you wanted to spend all of your time with. All of it was perfect just like him.

You were really hoping that this meant he would finally take you seriously and let you indulge yourself in loving him with every fiber of your being. But for now you focus on the time you have with him and not the fact that today is a work day.

I really hope you guys like this 😭

I’m sorry it took so long to post!

P.S Saldo is my favorite red wine 🫶

#top male reader #bomertheshark #dom male reader #x male reader #seme male reader #male reader #bottom character #nanami x male reader #nanami kento #nanami kento x male reader #Kento x male reader

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worldlxvlys · 3 months

Text

the way i loved you

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: cursing

a/n: hope you likeee <333

i watched as nick pulled an array of snacks from a plastic bag, setting them on the table.

today nick, matt, chris, and i were going to be filming a video where we rate snacks from around the world.

once nick set the camera up, he did the intro and explained what we would be doing.

while nick explained where he got the food, i watched Chris pick up a small pink tin, inspecting it.

i slowly began to tune out nick’s voice, focusing on the way chris’s fingers ran across the tin.

he carefully placed the tin down, drumming his fingers along the table.

god, his fingers are so long. they’re perfect-

no! stop! you shouldn’t be thinking about your best friend’s fingers like that !

i quickly look away from his fingers, realizing i was staring.

luckily, he didn’t seem to notice.

as nick continued to explain the concept of the video, i watched as chris began to smile.

i love how excited he is, he’s adorable.

as i smiled at his eagerness, he happened to look at me, catching my gaze as we smiled at each other.

once nick finished explaining, we decided to try the sour candy in the pink tin first.

i watched as chris attempted to take the plastic wrapping around the tin off, but was unsuccessful.

he fumbled with the plastic, and it seemed like he couldn’t keep his hands still. he almost seemed, nervous ?

he turned to me with a bashful smile on his face, “can you open it, please?”

“yeah, i got you” i said as i grabbed it from his hands, removing the plastic wrapping and handing it back to him.

“this one has vitamin c, which one’s that?” he looked at me, expectantly.

“why would i know ?” i asked, furrowing my brows.

“i don’t know, you’re the smart one” he mumbled.

“shut up” i laughed as i shook my head , “you’re smart too” .

we all tried one, and agreed that they weren’t actually sour, despite the tin having the word sour across it in big letters.

“doesn’t it feel like you have to put a lot of effort into getting that grape flavor ?” nick pointed out.

he scrunched his face up, making us all laugh, as chris put his hand on my shoulder, leaning onto me as he laughed.

i love hearing him laugh.

we gave it a rating, and moved onto the next candy.

once we realized they were slide whistles, we all started busting out laughing.

we all started fooling around, laughing at each other’s shenanigans.

chris wrapped his arms around my waist, laughing into my shoulder. the sound of his laugh, made me laugh even harder.

as we continued to try and rank the snacks, chris grew more and more touchy.

not that i’m complaining.

there were many times where i would catch him staring at me and vice versa. he made it so easy to enjoy his presence.

once we finished our last snack and agreed on the final ranking of everything, nick closed out the video and turned off the camera.

i turned to chris. “that was fun” i said trying to fight the shit-eating grin that was forming on my face.

“i agree” he said, returning the smile.

“jesus christ” matt spoke up from behind us, rolling his eyes and walking away.

“what ?” we called out.

A FEW DAYS LATER

nick, chris, and i were hanging out in the living room.

i was scrolling on tik tok, occasionally showing them videos that i found funny.

as i continued to scroll, i came across one video in particular that made my heart begin to race.

the lyrics of The Way I Loved You by Taylor Swift filled the room.

what the actual fuck.

and he says, you look beautiful tonight. and i feel perfectly fine. but i miss…

clips of chris and i staring at each other fill the screen.

screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain and it’s 2 am and i’m cursing your name

chris holding onto my waist, hugging me, leaning on me

so in love that you act insane, and that’s the way i loved you

us laughing together, looks of pure joy on our faces.

i glance to my right, seeing chris already staring down at my phone.

fuck. what do i do ? what do i say ?

suddenly, nick yells “oh my god is that the ship edit of you and chris ? that shit’s blowing up !” he said.

“damn, nick. how’d you know ?”

“i reposted it”

“WHAT?” chris and i stared at him like he had five heads.

“well, it was good. and c’mon, doesn’t take a genius to realize y’all like each other” he said, nonchalantly.

“i’m going to the bathroom” he said, walking off.

i’m literally losing my mind. a ship edit ? a TAYLOR ship edit ? we’re never beating the dating allegations.

“well, what do the comments say?” chris asked, his voice shaking the slightest bit.

i glanced over at him, before opening the comments.

sturniolowhore

awww they’re adorable

blueeyedbesson

they’d look so good tg

abbie13sworld

they’re literally in love no one can convince me otherwise

mommysturns

i literally love them tg 💗

babydollfae22

they need to stop playing and get tg

mbbsgf

them + taylor makes me so happy

“damn. they kinda love us together” i said. i scrolled, expecting to move onto something else.

suddenly, Tattoo by Loreen came on. this edit had clips of chris and i from the recent video and over the years.

it’s like we’re watching a progression of our relationship over the past few years.

every wandering eye, stolen glance, smile that was a little too wide, touch, hug that lasted a little too long, the fans always noticed them.

it was literally right in front of our faces the entire time.

listening to the sound of violins swelling while watching chris and i’s interactions almost made me want to cry.

i turned to chris, who was already staring at me.

he looked down at my lips. “what do the comments say?” he asked.

i turned back to my phone, opening them up.

sophssturn

they’re literally perfect for each other

xhiejfy

how adorableeee

bernardenjoyer

they’re cute ig but me and jimmy would be cuter

queen161718

literally just watched them fall in love with each other

vib3swithanuk

they’re good for each other

fr3sh-love

so so happy for them

“they think that we’d be good together” i told him.

“i think i agree with them” he whispered.

“then maybe you should ask me out” i said, my gaze shifting from his eyes to his lips.

our noses touched. “will you go out with me ?”

i smiled, “hell yeah” i whispered before pushing my lips onto his.

—————-

y’all see any familiar names ? 🤨

i love y’all <333

masterlist

tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @mommysturns @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @soursturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @rheaakayourname @defnotayonna

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