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#anger management or not up to the customer
freesia-writes · 1 day
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Pets4Vets: Jesse (1/4)
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Chapter 1 of 4 Word Count: 3.2k Jesse x Fem Reader
“Thanks for dinner,” she said quietly, shifting her eyes from her plate to his and crossing one arm across herself to rub the outside of the other. 
“Yeah baby,” Jesse purred with a cocky grin. “I mean, I got the dinner but you brought the dessert.”
“Huh?”
“You’re a treat,” he said with a wag of his eyebrows. “Want to take the party back to your place?”
“Oh, um. I’ve got to work early, so I think that’s all I’ve got time for now. But thanks again,” she offered, trying to mask the cringe on her face with a disingenuous smile. 
“Alright, your loss… heheh…”
“Yeah…”
They made their way to the door of the restaurant, Jesse holding it open for her as she shuffled awkwardly past him. She hesitated on the sidewalk, turning back to face him with that same feeble grin. Another thanks for dinner. An offer to walk her home. Declined. A question about another date. After a long, uneasy pause, that was also declined.
Jesse kept up his best face, chest puffed and confidence set firmly in place, until she disappeared around the corner, then he slumped, turning to begin his own walk home. A glance at the chrono reminded him that he wasn’t allowed back in the apartment he shared with Kix for another hour and a half… The cramped flat they rented together didn’t allow for much privacy, and his roommate had been excited to take advantage of the alone time with his partner from Right to Love, a matchmaking service for clones wanting to live as freely as they were able since the war had ended and they were released from service. 
The endless flashing lights of the Coruscant streets were oppressively bright as he plodded aimlessly, unsure of where to go. A deep sense of resentment was growing within, and he didn’t realize he was muttering under his breath until a few strange looks from passersby clued him in. Many of his brothers had found immediate success with Right to Love, now experiencing the joys of a relationship in ways they’d never thought possible when they’d been nothing more than property their entire lives. And yet here he was, having tried to connect with five different people now, each one entirely put off by the end of the first date. His assigned case manager at Right to Love had assured him that matches weren’t always perfect the first time around, and sometimes the process took a little longer to ensure the ideal fit. 
Doubt was growing in the pit of his stomach as he walked. What was it about him that was getting in the way? He was throwing himself wholeheartedly into this pursuit, and yet each attempt seemed to be less encouraging than the last. The resentment began to coil in his chest, heating up into anger, and he leaned into it. Anger was familiar. Anger, he could deal with. It made him feel powerful and in control, pushing aside any tendrils of fear or sadness that lay at its core. A sign up his head caught his eye, and he turned abruptly to barge through the door. 
Music thumped inside, the small crowd on the dance floor moving as one to the beat, and he jostled his way around the edge to find a seat at the bar. He waited for a while, watching the bartender help customer after customer, including those that had arrived after him. When the man began polishing some glasses, Jesse finally called out, eyebrows furrowed. 
“Can I get some service here?”
The bartender slowly finished wiping his glass, sidling down to the end and resting his palms on the counter with no attempt to hide the disdain on his face. 
“Did your giant face tattoo block you from seeing the sign on the door?” he drawled. “No clones. Go back to your own district.”
“You’re living in the past,” Jesse growled, the snake in his chest twisting and hissing. “Credits are credits. What does it matter who they come from?” 
“Just get out,” exhorted a Zabrak on the stool beside him who’d had his back firmly turned to him from the start. “Before we make you.”
He’d had enough.
“Go ahead and try,” he snarled, smacking a fist on the counter and rising to his feet. The Zabrak was in his face immediately, flanked by a nat-born and a Weequay who looked far too excited to throw hands. 
“Know your place,” the nat-born taunted, leaping forward to throw a swing, which Jesse dodged and countered with one of his own, sinking a fist into the man’s stomach and earning a satisfying grunt of pain. The brawl exploded, quickly changing the three-on-one situation into an entire mob set on teaching the clone a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget. The ARC trooper held his own, ducking and swinging, using leverage to toss one body into another, but the blows were coming from every direction. A foot to the back of his knee knocked him off balance, right into someone else’s fist.
The next thing he knew, he was unceremoniously thrown onto the sidewalk among a litany of curses and insults, and he scrambled to his feet, body throbbing with numerous bruises from the punches and kicks that had landed as he’d tried to hold them all off. His nose was bleeding, and he wiped it on his sleeve before pinching it hard, stalking toward his building in a tornado of rage. 
He sat outside on the stoop for the remaining hour, ruminating on the sheer injustice of it all. But eventually, the hot indignation quieted, and in the stillness, he fought to stuff down the disappointment that whispered judgment and failure in its place. 
* * * 
“Come on, give it a try.” Kix straightened his scrubs as Jesse slouched against his bedroom doorway. “It’ll be a different dynamic. Might be helpful.”
“I don’t need help,” Jesse scoffed, folding his arms across his broad chest. 
“I know,” Kix affirmed quickly, “But the food carts in the square are delicious. So bring your next date and just come along for that.” He smoothed a hand over his neatly-cut hair and tilted his head at his mirror, checking that the first few letters of his head tattoo were hidden as much as possible by his dark locks. The medical clinic he worked at had some fairly strict rules around personal appearance, and considering how difficult it was to find clone-friendly jobs, no matter how qualified they were, he wasn’t about to risk losing his placement over something as trivial as that. 
“Fine,” Jesse huffed. “I’m doing this for the ronto wraps, you know.”
Kix grinned, clapping him on the back and squeezing his shoulder as he headed for the front door. “You’ve been doing too much upper-body, vod. Have a leg day.”
“Hah. Go clean some crusty old geezers, di’kut.”
“Oh please. I’m saving lives out there,” Kix threw over his shoulder as the door closed behind him. Jesse sighed. That did seem like a much better purpose than his own job as a personal trainer at a local gym, where most of his clients were flaky hopefuls who wanted to get into shape without putting in the time and work that it required. It paid well enough, though, and gave him an outlet for a sense of purpose as well as a place to exercise. If he were honest, he’d hoped he’d meet someone there, figuring they’d be more aligned with his interests and lifestyle, but after months upon months of dismal prospects, he’d gone ahead and applied at Right to Love. He sighed, turning to rummage in the cooling chamber until it was time for work.
* * * 
Days of work and leisure blended together, and Jesse found himself spending more time at the gym, adding cardio sessions on top of his bodybuilding regimen as a way to blow off steam. He finally got another match from Right to Love and agreed to go on the double date with Kix and his partner, laboring a disproportionate amount of time over what to wear. He didn’t want to admit it, but with each date he felt increasingly desperate. Desperate to prove that there wasn’t something wrong with him. Desperate to feel like he had access to the whole variety of options for a “normal” life. Desperate to enjoy the care, intimacy, and connection that some of his brothers had found. 
He straightened the long-sleeved henley shirt and rolled up the sleeves a little. Ladies loved the forearms, right? Slipping a wallet into his back pocket, he checked his reflection one last time and ventured into the living room where Kix was waiting for him. 
“Here goes nothing,” he grumbled. 
“That’s the spirit,” Kix nodded sagely, a fond smirk on his face.
The square had a weekly event where all the food carts in the vicinity would gather to offer their delectable delicacies, and there really was something for everyone, making it a very popular attraction. Jesse swaggered beside his date, Kix and his partner bringing up the rear, and shared stories of valor and bravery as she nodded and made small sounds of agreement here and there. The four of them had shared some snacks from a variety of vendors and were now walking it off along the city streets. 
Coming to a somewhat scenic overlook of a steep dropoff with many Coruscant levels stretching down below, the four of them sat on a couple of benches. Kix stretched his arm across his partner’s shoulders, and they nestled into his side with an affectionate gaze. Jesse shifted awkwardly beside his date, a beautiful redhead that made his mouth go dry when he tried to talk. Yet he’d pushed past it with bravado and confidence, he felt simultaneously certain and completely unsure of her interest. Kix was murmuring in his date’s ear, bringing a demure smile to their face, and Jesse turned to look at the redhead beside him. 
“So… You mentioned some adventures in the jungle… Did I tell you about our campaign on Felucia?” he asked, launching into the story before she was able to respond. He wove an exhilarating tale of their encounter with both Separatist forces and the Commerce Guild, finishing with a flourish and grinning proudly. 
“Sounds like the war was wild,” she offered.
“You’re karking right it was,” he laughed, attempting to slip his arm around her shoulder as well, but she stood up quickly. 
“Sorry,” she mumbled. “I… I’m gonna go.” 
Jesse watched her leave, speechless, then was flooded with embarrassment as he felt the eyes of Kix and his partner on his back. He slowly turned to face them, and the empathetic looks on their faces added insult to the injury. 
“See you at home,” he muttered to his brother, nodding to Kix’s partner and stuffing his hands in his pockets as he trudged back to their apartment. Kix watched him for a long time, nodding at the murmured condolences from his partner, who was incredibly kind and gentle, both admiring and strong in their own right, and he was regularly blown away at the fact that he’d been able to find them. Their compassion only served to deepen his own hope that his brother could find whatever it was he was looking for. 
* * * 
The next morning, a much-needed day off of work for both of them, Jesse was sprawled on the couch with a lazy hand resting on the steaming mug of caf on the nearby side table. Kix was scrambling some eggs in the kitchen, casting the occasional glance over the counter at his brother’s dejected slump. He was torn; Jesse was notoriously stubborn, but Kix also knew him better than most anyone else, and if he kept continuing in the same pattern, he would likely keep getting the same result. He flipped the eggs one more time and turned off the burner, scattering some shredded cheese over the top of them and putting a lid over the pan to melt it all together. 
“You… uh… seemed different last night,” he ventured, picking up his own caf, now mostly cold, and sitting in the armchair across from the downcast clone. 
“Mmm,” was the only response. 
“Does it always go that way?”
“Mmm.”
“What’s… What’s with the swagger stuff?” Kix asked, abandoning the subtlety. Jesse cast a hard look at him, but he caught the quickly-concealed flicker of hurt beneath the tattooed face.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. Just doesn’t really seem like you. Did you answer the questionnaire honestly?”
“Yes!” Jesse said defensively, furrowing his brow.
“Well… then that might be why the dates aren’t going so well, if they’re expecting you to act… normal. You’re smart and pretty down-to-earth most of the time. Last night it felt more like you were trying to prove yourself somehow.”
His words stung, and Jesse balked at the feeling of being perceived so accurately. But a sense of resignation had settled in again, and he shrugged, attempting a nonchalant facade. 
“I’m just gonna get a pet. That’ll have to lo–... to put up with me, right?”
“Sure,” Kix sighed. “I’ve heard good things about P4V.”
“Look, di’kut, I know I can’t even get a second date, let alone some bedroom action, but I don’t think I have the credits for a sex worker… At least not a good one.”
“Classy as always,” Kix rolled his eyes. “It’s not a brothel, it’s called Pets 4 Vets. They have a variety of service animals to help with the difficult aspects of adjusting to civilian life.”
“I want a good-sized Massiff, not some fluffy little Loth-rat to lick me when I have ‘big feelings’,” Jesse snorted. 
“Kriff, you are thick sometimes.”
“Just these thighs.”
“Right. Just try it.”
“We’ll see.”
* * * 
You stroked a hand down the bogling's back, running fingers along the soft fur of its fluffy tail. It leaned into your touch with a contented noise, and you closed the cage behind it, watching it begin delicately eating its food before moving to the next kennel. You’d been working at Pets 4 Vets for a while now, and you felt thoroughly at home amid a great group of coworkers and an even better assortment of animals from every corner of the galaxy. They were all either in the process or finished with their training to be emotional support animals for the veterans who had served the Republic so well. You’d been a little unsure around the clones at first, not having spent any time with them before this, but they’d grown on you quite a bit and you’d been amazed at the complexity and individuality of each one. You’d also developed a knack for pairing them with animals, although it still took a few tries at times. 
“Good morning, tookas,” you said warmly as you slid the food bowl into the next crate, watching the two loth-cats eye it lazily from where they were curled around each other in the corner. They were a bonded pair, and last summer they had surprised the entire staff with a full litter of the most adorable babies you’d ever seen, who had since grown and been placed into loving homes. None of you had been too eager to see the parents leave, however, and it just so happened that none of the troopers so far had been the ideal match for them. The two of them roamed the clinic during the day, curling up near computer terminals or gracing guests in the lobby with their tails high in the air. At night, all the animals were tucked into their cozy kennels until morning, when they’d be fed and let out into their various programs for the day. Some had hours of training, others enjoyed free time inside or out, and some simply spent as much time as possible shadowing the clinic staff. 
“I wish I got breakfast in bed,” you murmured as you closed their door, watching the loth-cats yawn and nuzzle one another. You felt a deep sense of longing in your chest, and moved to the next cage to try to keep your mind from continuing on its current trajectory. But it was a lost cause. “Wish I had someone to wake up next to as well,” you continued. The dating scene hadn’t been kind to you, and if you were honest, you’d pretty much given up. Your friends urged you to keep the dream alive, to go on double dates with them and to meet the various eligible bachelors they knew, but nothing felt like a good fit. You assumed the problem was with you. And that was alright. You were happy enough on your own…you said. The clinic staff was a tightly-knit group, for the most part, and you authentically loved the animals. You felt fulfilled by the unconditional love you shared with each one, and you were so proud at the growth you got to witness as they went through training. 
The horde was fed, each one was released to its daily duty, and you began to clean all of the kennels, wondering if you should take your friend up on her offer to check out 79s. It felt completely out of your comfort zone, however. Not because of the clones, but you just generally weren’t a fan of loud, raucous environments, and you weren’t much of a drinker… So it didn’t seem like a very attractive prospect. As much as you were mocked for it, you weren’t really keen on one night stands, nor were you good at “keeping it casual”. You wanted a relationship with depth and longevity. Sometimes you wondered if the taunts about you were correct, that you had in fact watched too many cheesy holofilms and now had an unrealistic view of romance. 
Whatever.
A few hours of cleaning were followed by an hour or so at your computer, reviewing and categorizing the new applications. You didn’t realize you’d been completely hunched the entire time, your back rounded as you tapped away at the keys, and would have remained blissfully unaware if the receptionist hadn’t commented on it as soon as she popped in. 
“Geez, you look like a shrimp,” she laughed, dropping a data card on your desk. 
“You’re a bit of a cod yourself,” you teased, and she giggled, swatting your arm. “What’s this?”
“A new app. I was gonna bring him back here in person but he said he had lots of ‘big important stuff’ to do.” She rolled her eyes. “Quite the cocky one. He didn’t want to go through the interview process because he ‘knew what he wanted and it was a big dog’.” A chuckle followed the words as they both nodded. They were familiar with the type.
“Did you tell him he has to do an interview if he wants anything at all?”
“Yup. Said you’d contact him.”
“Lucky me.”
“Thought you might like a challenge. It’s been quiet for you lately,” she grinned.
“Considerate as always,” you smiled right back. 
“Have some fun with him. He could use someone taking him down a peg or two. Although I thought I could see the remnant of a black eye, so maybe someone already tried. He’s a big boy, too.” A suggestive wink.
“Oh boy. Can’t wait.”
Next Chapter
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minervas-hand · 2 days
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Ineffable May Day 6: Apology
Day 6 for @blairamok's Ineffable May 2024
AO3 link here
[S2 Ep.1. Aziraphale sits in the bookshop after their fight over Gabriel.]
Aziraphale made himself tea in the vain hope it would calm him. 
Usually the first sip would wash down the worst of any anxiousness, give him clarity to tackle whatever the problem might be. Even intransigent customers. But it did very little against the sinking pit inside, like a black hole had suddenly manifested inside his corporation.
He left. He left. 
He left me here, alone. 
The bookshop's walls seemed to tighten ever so slightly around him, beams and columns emitting comfort. He assayed the thinnest watery smile, which quickly collapsed under its own weight. Millennia of practice, pasting on a bright countenance for any situation no matter the reality. But right now, he was powerless to do any more than stare.
He shuffled out to the desk, to sort random paperwork through his fingers. Normal. That's the ticket. Everything will be back to normal, if one behaves normally.
The black hole continued, unabated. The daylight waned, slowly. 
At twilight he felt the whisper of demonic energy passing the bookshop's boundaries before he heard the door. His eyes shot to the demon striding in.
The spike of joy battled the black hole, but its gravity kept him in his chair, and he made himself look busy over the desk. He could feel the consternation in Crowley's gaze but he refused to look.
A harrumph, and then the bell dinged. "I'm baaack." 
He looked over as coolly as he could manage, then his eyes turned back firmly on the paper in his hand. "Yes-s. I can see that." Kept looking at his papers like they were very important. 
Heard the groan. "You want a big, 'I think I said the wrong thing' sort of an apology, or can we take that as said."
Over their years, how many things, too many things, taken as said. But he had said. I'm asking you to help me.
The now-retreating black hole left a shadow, an echo. You left me, you left me alone. 
He kept his gaze on his work. "Quite like the apology, actually."
A pause. "You were right." Pulled out of him with a long breath. 
Now Aziraphale turned, but couldn't quite banish the shadow. "Not good enough. I want a proper apology."
Crowley shot back - "No."
He wasn't letting this go. "With the little dance." 
"I don't do the dance."
He let the anger flare to the surface, felt his lip curl. "I did the 'I was wrong dance' in 1650, 1793, 1941-" His hand flicked out the enumeration. 
"- Fine!" 
Still glowering, he stood. Adjusted his waistcoat. Folded his hands together. Tilted his head, expectant.
Crowley glared his reluctance. Then his sinuous shape went twirling round his long legs. 
"You were right, you were right. I was wrong, you were right." He popped the 't' at the end and glared, teeth bared. Balanced for a moment in a long, low curtsy, arms held out in captivating grace.
Aziraphale stamped down the savage singing in his blood. Millennia of practice, in not letting his expression show exactly how much joy this beloved demon brought. Or, other feelings. It was as much their game as their prison. 
Crowley straightened up and asked "Okay?" Sardonic lilt trying to hide everything else. Not quite succeeding. 
Are we okay?
The shadow was muted to a whisper, dying. "Very nice." 
I forgive you. 
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gilbirda · 1 year
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DPxDC Prompt: Wrong Number Jazz edition
Based on this amazing post I saw
"Danny, it's been a week. Sam said you took the phone with this number. Everything alright?"
"Please. It's been a month now. I just want to know if you are alive."
"I won't look for you. I know I promised. But you promised to check in."
"The funeral was today. They didn't attend, forgot what day it was."
"I miss you."
Jason came back from a Outlaw out-of-the-grid mission finding messages from an Unknown number. A quick check gave him a name and address, and also news about a missing little brother. The more he searched the fishier it all looked.
Good thing he didn't unpack his things yet.
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hailbales · 3 months
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୧ ‧₊˚ 🌷・₊✧
hyper sensitive reader whose too clumsy for her own good :((
every time you accidentally break something tears well up in your eyes but jj has learned the routine to calm you down in seconds. or whenever you stupidly hurt yourself, he would start ‘beating up’ whatever inanimate object that got you that day, making you whine and pout. “yo, what’d you jus say to my girl? yeah, yeah that’s what I thought. stupid cabinet.” pulling a giggle from your lips as your hand caresses the small red indent on your forehead.
but today, you’d had it.
you were having a very long week at work, dealing with your asshole manager who would yell at you for your klutzy ways until your eyes were stinging and rude customers that would send you judgmental glances every time you passed.
so when friday finally came around, you decided to make a special dinner for jj. his favorite, spagetti with meatballs. okay, maybe it wasn’t that special but he absolutely adored it. he’d been so patient with you all week even when you’d snap at him for little things, the stress weighing down on your shoulders making you overly irritable.
he was relaxed on the couch, feet kicked up as a joint sat loosely between his fingers. he checked on you every few minutes, getting in position to jump to his feet every time there was loud clatter but it would only be you grabbing a pan from the cupboard or digging through the pantry. he smiled softly to himself as he watched his girl do something so sweet for him.
that was, until the unmistakable sound of glass shattering. he was beside you in seconds, ushering you to the side to not get cut. “careful, baby. stay still, let me grab the broom.” he jumps right into action, hand against your stomach as a shield before disappearing into the pantry. your lip quivers and you bite down on it, willing yourself not to cry.
don’t cry. please don’t cry.
he returns, locked and loaded as his tongue peeks out of the corner of his mouth, a focused habit. “alright, how do one go about this?” he mutters to himself, staring the floor down like a man on a mission.
before you can help it a sob escapes your lips and his head snaps towards you as you bury your face in your hands, body heating up in embarrassment. “I’m sorry.” you cry, and he’s already by your side like a dog trained. “heyy, it’s alright. you didn’t do anything wrong, kid. no need to cry over spilled milk, right?“
after a moment of no response he gently tugs on your wrist, pulling your hands down and his heart lurches at your tear stained cheeks, big doe eyes all watery. “it ain’t no biggie, sugar. we’ll clean this up in no time.” his thumb strokes off the fallen tears but they just keep coming.
“god, how can I be so incompetent?” your voice shakes, the word laced with resentment towards yourself and his eyebrows furrow in anger on to how you could say such a thing. “hey.” his tone is laced with authority and it makes you freeze, wide eyes staring up at his baby blues with a gulp. “knock that off. no one’s allowed to talk about my girl that way, not even my girl. alright, you hear me?”
you slowly nod your head, your sniffles being the only sound that fill the room before his expression softens. “you wanna tell me what’s going on with you, doll? I got a feelin’ this is about more than just s’getti sauce, yeah?”
you sheepishly nod in agreement and he fights a smile. “talk to me.”
“I just-..” you sigh, closing your eyes to collect yourself as your chin begins to tremble. his thumb runs over the skin as though to smooth it out and your eyes meet his again. “jus’ feels like I can never do anything right. think something’s wrong with me.” you sniffle.
“cant help but break everything I touch. I’m just so- so.. clumsy.” you huff, and the tears had finally slowed down. his bottom lip juts out in a pout, and you know hes making fun of you in his jj way.
“it’s not funny!” your voice is whiny, and the smile creeping onto his face makes you roll your eyes, feeling the corner of your lip tug up from his antics. “I’m serious, baby.”
“I know, I know— I’m sorry.” He stifles back a laugh before he collects himself, tilting his head slightly as his hand finds its home on your cheek. “come on, darlin’. there ain’t nothin’ wrong with you, alright? trust me. you’re doin’ just fine. if you break a few things along the way, so what? ain’t gon’ break ya’, is it?” he awaits your response, eyebrows raising in questioning.
you huff once again, a few strands of hair blowing with your breath. “guess not.” you mutter in your adorably stubborn way and he finally flashes that charming smile. “that’s right. and for the record, I like it.” he shrugs his shoulders shamelessly, his smile turning smug, telling you he’s about to say something stupid.
you chuckle and roll your eyes, looking away from him. “no, I’m serious. I love it, actually. gives my savior complex somethin’ to do.” you finally laugh, sniffling a few more times until there was no evidence of tears left.
“jus’ wanted to make you dinner, j.” you pout, but your demeanor tells him you’re all cheered up. gave him a scare for a second, worried he wasn’t gonna be able to. “I know you did, princess.” he cooes, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your lips before adding a quick pinch to your nose with his middle and pointer fingers.
“why don’t you go ahead and get yourself cleaned up, I’ll handle this?” he gestures his head towards the bedroom and you sigh, feeling guilty. “then I think I know somethin’ else I can eat.” he smirks, eyeing you down and just like that, the guilts gone.
“in your dreams, maybank.” you stalk away from him, a teasing smile on your lips as you pull your shirt over your head on the way and he gawks, tonguing the inside of his cheek “every night, baby!”
yeah, he was definitely getting some tonight.
୧ ‧₊˚ 🌷・₊✧
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onlyswan · 3 months
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summary: in which you want to turn back the clock and jungkook wants you to stay.
idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / angst, fluff / word count: 5.8k
content/warnings: mistreatment of service workers / oc felt inappropriately touched by a customer (only mentioned in passing) / (oc works part-time in a restaurant) (then quits) / another dive into oc’s lore / allusion to death / grief grief grief / lots of crying :( / jk wants to move in together :") / mention of s*x (24/7=heaven?) / mention of period blood (they’re in diff contexts js to be clear lol) / u will get pissed and cry and laugh it’s fun <3
playlist! knees - iu ; chinese satellite - phoebe bridgers ; love wins all - iu
> in which masterlist
note: contains lil flashblacks from the giving up drabbles ^^ can be found in the timeline masterlist above this incase u haven’t read them and want to ^^ listen to love wins all when jungkook tells oc to wear their seatbelt (trust me). tried to encapsulate the epiphany of oh. everything’s going to be okay because i am loved when i’m at my lowest. as always reblogs & feedback are appreciated :") come chat!!
the rusty swing-set creaks as you unsteadily swing back and forth, staring lifelessly at your white socks and shoes stained with burnt orange. you look up to the sky but the moon and the stars are shrouded by the clouds. not even your favorite snack can poison your sadness with optimism. mouthful of bungeoppang, but you taste nothing, and every swallow only adds to the heaviness weighing on your chest.
your shift should be ending by now, which means you probably should be heading home, but your limbs have given up and refuses to move.
jungkook’s special ringtone ceaselessly disrupts the night scene’s quiet, but there’s no point in answering his calls when you know no words would come out of you.
“are you an imbecile?! you can’t understand basic instructions?!”
“ma’am, i’m so sorry. i’ll take it back and give you the right ord-”
“we’re fucking starving! move faster!”
you flinch as the bowl collides with the tiled floor, producing an ear-splitting sound that reverberates throughout the entire restaurant. you want to give the woman the benefit of the doubt and believe that she just shoved the bowl a little too harshly due to her frustration, but you have a hand over your mouth not due to shock, but the inexplicable pain of having your skin burnt by the piping hot soup… and she’s just… there.
“i’m sorry, i’m sorry! please understand. she’s just in a bad mood. she’s not- she’s not usually like this.”
you stand on your spot, frozen and speechless, as her husband profusely apologizes. you’re only jolted out from trance when you feel him wiping your legs with crumpled tissue papers, a little too farther up for your comfort. a fleeting tug-of-war ensues when you forcefully rip them away from his hands. you thank him despite not meaning it.
you grip the edge of your skirt as you sit on your heels, picking up the broken shards of glass scattered across the floor. a concerned co-worker swoops in with a broom and you instantly jump the opportunity to save yourself from the mortifying stares, mumbling another thank you as you take your leave.
“you said table six.”
“____, i’m sorry. that was a fault on my part.”
your manager observes your current state. his stare lingers at your feet.
“but they don’t know that! she literally burnt me!”
“look, we don’t have to take this too far. it couldn’t have been that hot. we can see you’re still walking.” his condescending tone makes you feel so small, but it fuels the anger inside of you. “you don’t have to pay for the damages, so let’s just put this behind us.”
you gasp in disbelief, and it borders on a laugh. you feel crazy. you can’t believe this is actually happening to you. he can’t be fucking serious.
the workers in the kitchen remain quiet as tension arises, minds a tornado of thoughts but mouths remaining shut in fear of getting on the bad side of their superior.
“well you…” you hastily strip off your apron, bunching it up into one big ball. “don’t have to pay me anymore, because i fucking quit! i hope this place burns down!”
and you ensure that it hits him on the face before you turn around to march out of the kitchen. on the way out of the restaurant, you nonchalantly grab a bottle of water from the fridge, twisting off the cap as you push the door open. you leave a wet trail behind your steps as you pour the cold water over your feet, a poor attempt to soothe the sharp pain of the injury.
you know it will be alright eventually; you will heal, but this… this is leaving a permanent scar on your dignity.
with a vexed groan, you retrieve your vibrating phone from your pocket.
LAST EVICTION NOTICE— you do not even bother reading the rest of the words that come after that.
“fuck!” you scream, throwing the bottle at the nearest wall, hands coming up to your hair to roughly pull in frustration. the heels of your palm dig into your eyes and your knees give way to the ground. “this is a nightmare.”
it dawns on you that you’ve finally arrived at a surface on the rock bottom that you so awfully dread. you find yourself standing here— infront of the atm machine, staring blankly at the large number displayed on the screen. this money isn’t yours. this didn’t come from your blood, sweat, and tears. it’s an amount that you’re supposed to accept as a payment for the eulogies you had to deliver. you swore you would never do this, but desperate times come when you’re forced to swallow your pride and allow it to rot you from the inside.
you’re once again faced with the ugly difference between surviving and living.
you grab the cash, hastily pushing them inside the pocket of your jacket as if you’re being burnt by them. you feel so nauseous; if only emptying your stomach would untangle its knots.
you don’t need anything from anyone. this is the first and the last time, you swear to yourself in place of your defeated oath.
you don’t want jungkook to see you like this, helpless and hollow, the antonym of the sun he willingly flew too close to. you look pathetic seeking for solace in an abandoned playground, unfortunate soul stuck at fifteen, in denial of the passage of time.
but there goes your lover running towards you, calling out your name, and you begin praying for yourself to disappear into thin air.
much to your disappointment, no wiser being grants your plea, and now you have a man tucking you in his safe embrace, uncaring of his knees being bruised by the ground.
does he need to surprise you when you least anticipate his presence?
“i’ve been looking everywhere for you! i went to pick you up at the restaurant but they told me that you quit! what happened?”
he pulls away, tenderly cupping your cheeks in his warm hands.
“was it your boss again? it’s him, isn’t it? what did he do?”
jungkook dies a little inside. your glassy eyes study his face, a clear picture of distress and concern, but at the same time, they seem so far away… like you’re not certain if you’re truly here.
you unconsciously squirm— your feet retract themselves, escaping underneath the swing; and your ankles twist, and twist, one hiding behind the other.
this doesn’t feel like being stripped naked.
you feel like you’re being turned inside out.
“what’s wrong? baby…” he utters sadly as tears drip from your lashes—one by one— even they are lost and hesitant.
your distant stare remains.
he doesn’t know if you’re even aware that you’re crying. it’s a frightening sight and he doesn’t know what else to do. he holds you in his arms but you feel too stiff for this to be comfortable. the time passes, and he lets it do so in silence.
he waits for you to come back to him.
he waits, and waits, and waits.
“jungkook… i want to go home.”
“okay. i’ll bring you home, baby.” he strokes your hair, breathing out in relief. “yours? or mine?”
only for his world to crumble into pieces.
“my mom…” you whisper, breathless, releasing yourself from his embrace. “i want to be with my mom.”
and only then does he see traces of emotions written on your face.
“i miss my mom so much.”
the crack of your voice gives him an opening to catch a glimpse of your heart, that is but a mosaic of broken parts. pain, grief, longing… the past two years haven’t been enough to make him well-acquainted with the anatomy of your afflictions. he has only witnessed you speak of your family with a proud and affectionate beam; old stories that spark the agent of joy. and despite knowing that you must’ve been battling your pain all these years all alone, he couldn’t bring himself to meddle with how you handled your grief. however, if he’s going to be completely truthful, he was terrified of this— of seeing you so unmoored and broken. his pain is no comparison. quite frankly, it is an insult to yours.
“i miss her so, so, so much. what do i do? i…” you sobs become uncontrollable, overcome by the weight of the world crashing down on you.
how is it possible that you feel nothing and too much at the same time? is what you would often ask before, but today you realize that your pain simply goes beyond what any of your human parts is able to fathom.
“this is too hard… it’s too tiring. i can’t- i can’t. i don’t want to be here anymore. i’m always so scared. i don’t know what i’m doing anym-”
“shh, shhh, baby- baby, breathe for me-”
“how did my life end up like this? i don’t understand! the world- it’s so cruel- i can’t stand it.”
jungkook wipes away your tears, but it’s no use. once you break down, it becomes impossible to remedy. nonetheless, that doesn’t deter your boyfriend from trying. he gathers your weeping and trembling vessel in an attempt to glue you back together, and in while doing so, he also wills himself to be strong for you.
“why did she have to go after them and leave me all alone here? am i not her child too?”
the obtuse questions you’ve been too afraid to ask out loud are being brought out in the open, spilling out from the torn seams of your soul as they’ve become too agonizing to annihilate over and over and over again.
you know the answer. you know she didn’t want to leave.
but you can’t help but to be angry at the fact that her heart gave up. you don’t understand why it had to happen and why you’re being grinded in the mouth of the world.
“i’m tired, i’m so tired. it’s so unfair… i need her with me too…”
jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, gently rocking your tangled bodies — a defense mechanism. you’re succumbing to defeat as if it’s been long overdue; even your voice is giving up on you.
if he had to imagine, the earth must have shared his current dread when it witnessed a solar eclipse for the first time, wired to assume the worst of perpetual darkness.
“jungkook…”
your weak fists desperately grasping at the fabric of his hoodie— the final thread you are hanging on. your words break into stutters and hiccups, salty tears slipping past your lips and stirring their bitter taste.
“i just want to go and be my mom’s child again.”
and he would truly fucking hate to try and get into the implication of your words, but if jungkook is going to be completely truthful— he is terrified beyond words can say. of this; of witnessing you slip away from everything you’ve ever known; of losing you. maybe he’s being selfish, but whatever it takes, he will make you stay.
he swallows the lump in his throat, hurriedly drying his eyes with his sleeve before facing you.
“listen to me, okay…?” his voice isn’t enough to pull your head from underwater; he lightly taps your cheek, even though it breaks his heart. “hey, hey, hey. look at me, baby- look at me.”
he searches for your eyes, begging them to focus on him. and it’s silly, what he does next, pressing a kiss to your lips as if this is a fairytale. but then it works— you tilt your head to subtly nuzzle your cheek against his palm— and he has to quickly recover from being taken aback. you effortlessly make a slave out of his heart.
“you never stopped being her child. and that will never happen! because even with them being gone, you haven’t stopped trying your best to be a good child and older sibling to them. i… i’m a witness to that. every single day. are you hearing me?”
can he get some sort of sign whether he is doing this right or wrong?
“you’re not alone here because you have me. you do know that, right?”
and you want to believe him… you do. but just like how you’re clinging onto him right now for dear life, you can’t forget how you had to beg him to stay.
“so stop working all these jobs! please, i’m begging you! it must also break your mom’s heart to see you torturing yourself like this. it’s not healthy! just focus on studying and let me take away your burdens, please?”
you stop breathing; your features soften like you’ve made it out of a nightmare.
“jungkook…”
“let’s live together, baby.” he sounds sure; he sounds steady, but the waver of his eyes beseeches you. “you’ve been so good to me, even when i didn’t deserve it. please… let me love you in my own way too.”
“stop. i told you… i’m still thinking about it.” you say meekly, avoiding his intense gaze. “i mean, let’s be honest. what would your family even think of me? your aunt already hates me. what if she uses this to prove that she was right about me and-”
“fuck what everyone else thinks. i couldn’t care less.”
the reminder of the disrespect you were subjected to because of him has him seething all over again. his jaw clenches in anger, and he feels obligated to take a deep breath so he can keep himself composed. growing up, he was always taught to be the bigger person, but he simply can’t implore himself to do that if it means turning a blind eye to your hurt.
“i won’t let her get away with that type of bullshit so don’t even bother thinking about her anymore. i’ll take care of it. we can’t let that get into our heads. right, baby? we said that?” his thumb caresses your cheek softly, and you hold on to his wrist, silent as you try to understand him through the thick haze clouding your mind. “i want to be with the person i love. how could that be so wrong?”
you slowly shake your head in response, a little hesitant.
“i won’t leave again. no matter how hard you push me away, i will stay within your reach.”
and here he is, kneeling infront of you, seeking to make true of what he solemnly vowed to you.
are you going to take this away from him? after everything you’ve gone through together?
he is the only thing you have left to lose.
“i love you.” you whisper, initiating the hug this time.
you’re holding him tight, like you don’t ever want to let go, and it brings jungkook to the brink of tears once more.
“i love you so much.”
he sweetly kisses your cheek, but when you pull away to give him that look, a wordless command for more, his lips finally meet yours for the first time in forty-eight hours. they slowly curve into a smile, not at all surprised that he’s tasting sugar. he’d go through hell and back to experience this kind of kiss one time, only to do it all over again.
“let’s go home?”
you blink at him cluelessly. you don’t know why he’s wearing a dimpled smile out of the blue, neither do you know which home he is referring to. nevertheless, you intertwine your fingers with his, choosing to save yourself from this forlorn neverland.
there’s just… one teeny… tiny problem…
“shit,” you mutter to yourself, freezing on your tracks.
“what’s wrong?”
you awkwardly glance down at your shoes, the origin of the squeaky sound that was impossible to be missed by your ears. after inspecting you from head to toe, a worried expression morphs on his face, and you can only show him a shy wince in response.
“i don’t want to make your car dirty.”
“baby…”
his chest feels so much heavier. he is nearly blinded with red. he wants to scream and be infuriated. what the fuck happened back there?
you merely shrug, sending him a forced smile. “do you still have those extra slippers?”
“jungkook, i can do it myself.”
he clicks his tongue, his hand around your calf gripping. “stay still!”
you watch him from the passenger seat, your legs dangling from the edge as he carefully takes off your shoes and socks, yet again kneeling on the ground.
“does it hurt a lot?”
“not… a lot.” you answer through gritted teeth.
perhaps the stinging never did quell; it was just pushed to the back of your mind when more painful things surfaced succeeding it.
“who did this to you, huh? i need to go back there and make them pay! what kind of decent human being would do that?!”
“a miserable woman in a miserable marriage.”
in her eyes, you may be naive and she, the decades old wiser— but who is the one with a lover who would wash not their dirty hands, but their feet that have walked a million miles?
“i feel bad for her.” you comment absentmindedly.
you’re too far deep in awe watching jungkook gingerly clean your bare feet with his hands and a bottle of cool water, doing what you were meant to do earlier, if only granted that you weren’t erupting with rage.
“____, you’re too nice.”
“you’re too nice.” you argue. “also, those shoes are hopeless. just throw them away.”
he glances at you with fondness, shaking his head as he softly pats you dry with a clean towel. you stifle a gasp. it’s no longer as bad as before, but your skin still feels warm and raw. this wasn’t in the job description. you decide that you can practice empathy, as well as your strong belief in karma, at the same time. at this moment, you hope that the universe is already crafting tricks up its sleeve, because you’re in a world of fucking pain.
“there you go. wait until we get off the car before you wear the slippers, alright? and you’re not allowed to wear tight shoes.”
he rises to his feet, not wasting the opportunity to steal a kiss.
“yeah, it was wildly uncomfortable.” you mumble against his lips, tugging at his collar to properly respond to his display of affection. “thank you.”
“wear your seatbelt.” his eyes shines with a glint of with uncontainable excitement. “we’re going home.”
you stir as jungkook gently shakes your body awake, his muffled voice gradually becoming clearer as you gain your consciousness.
“wake up, baby. we’re here.”
you tiredly rub off the sleep from your swollen eyes, discovering your boyfriend waiting for you where the door of the passenger seat should be.
“let’s get you some more rest.” he places a chaste kiss on your forehead, before standing aside to make way for you, offering his hand as a gentleman.
you must still be dreaming. you assumed he would bring you to his apartment, but you do not recognize this place. this is a different parking space, a different parking lot.
“um… t-this is…” you stumble on your words, feeling lost. “where are we?”
“home,” he smiles, the kind that reaches his eyes and turn them into little crescent moons.
you must still be dreaming. the clock attached to a nearby pillar strikes midnight, and unbeknownst to you, a brand new day awaits beyond the dark and empty sky.
you were so thoroughly convinced that you’ve been living a life past the point of salvation… but life stands before you overflowing with hope and glowing with ardor.
you take his hand and allow him to whisk you away to another world.
this is beginning to feel real, jungkook thinks as he presses the elevator button. earlier’s excitement becomes interweaved with nervousness. he’s a little dizzy as the giant box ascends. if you feel his hand’s growing clamminess, you don’t show it, your clasp still as firm as before.
“you bought another house…”
“hmm, but this one is a secret.” a confession that is yours truly. “this one is ours.”
your eyes wordlessly speak with each other. neither of you imagined following your hearts could materialize your future plans to the present time. what goes beyond dreaming of beautiful things is still foreign to the both of you, but jungkook is here, willing to free fall with you.
the elevator dings.
he guides you through a well-lit hallway, to a door, and you pay close attention as he punches in the passcode— another set of numbers you ought to have memorized alongside birthdays and anniversaries and id numbers.
your heart races but everything else moves in slow motion. the door opens and you get swallowed by the need to remember every moment so vividly as if you’re reliving it.
the first time you set foot into your own apartment,, the empty space daunted you despite its modest dimensions. however, right now, your head is tracing half of a circle, from left to right, just to study this large space in its entirety— and all you can think about are the endless possibilities forming intimate images of a sanctuary in your head— a place where fears and sadness can co-exist with tenderness and joy.
beside you, jungkook patiently holds your hand.
“this one is ours…” you repeat the words, more so to convince yourself, and they drip with disbelief.
you follow his lead as he walks to the other half of the room, bare feet sliding across the floor.
“this is the living room, and the other side is the kitchen.”
he faces you with a wide grin, the kind he wears when he wants to tell you something he is proud of.
“i was thinking that if we get a big television bolted on the wall…”
he gestures to the blank canvas, letting go of your hand to draw an invisible rectangle on the air with his arms fully outstretched.
“then we can easily watch even from the kitchen.”
he puffs up his chest, side-eyeing you expectantly.
“genius, right?”
“and greedy.” you blink. “i don’t think that’s safe to do while you’re cooking.”
“but i’ll be very, very careful!”
“that’s the bare minimum when you’re holding a knife.”
“okay! i look forward to arguing with you about that on a different day!”
his enthusiasm doesn’t waver. in fact, it is fueled. how could it not? when you’re starting to sound exactly like a couple who lives together?
he captures your wrist and tugs you towards the other side of the room, but you pull him back with a noise of protest.
“are we not going to address…” you hang on to your words, eyes wandering to the floor where there are signs of living. “whatever is going on here?”
a single mattress with a single pillow; a folded blanket neatly sitting on top of it. surrounding them are bottles of water, a laptop, a speaker, and a basket of what you assume are skincare products.
“i’ve been sleeping here lately…”
“i can see that.”
“i didn’t want to buy furnitures yet while you haven’t given me an answer… i just thought that if we’re living together, then we should decide on those things as a couple.”
…he dips down to kiss you. “it was hell without you…”
his teeth captures your bottom lip, nipping at the supple flesh.
“going to build a life with you. i’ll build furniture, and they’re going to be ours.”
jungkook feels your stare. oblivious of your thoughts reigning chaos, he tilts his head in question.
how long has he been planning this?
“you okay?”
you blink away the tears brimming your eyes. you shake your head, clinging to his arm. “where were you taking me?”
“this is the kitchen!”
a smile of contentment graces your lips. you’re guilty of admiring the pure, unadulterated joy on jungkook’s face instead of what he is passionately endorsing to you.
“this is the fridge!” he presents to you, swinging the door open. “but there’s nothing inside.”
“what are you saying? there is something.”
the two of you peer at the green can of soda, chilsung cider, left at a far corner. the refrigerator light casts over your curious faces.
“oh, that’s still there?”
the animated sound of your giggles prompts him to look at you, and he couldn’t be more glad to be laughing with you again, bellies aching at the same time.
“do you want it?”
“it’s not peach.”
“let’s move on then!”
there are cups of ramyeon and packs of dried seaweed on the countertop, the photo of his dinner that he sent last night still vivid in your memory. your hand daintily brushes across the white marble, stealing a feel as jungkook drags you to a new space.
“this is the second kitchen and laundry room!”
he waits for a reaction as you survey the room and its overhead cabinets.
“it’s not supposed to be the pantry…? eh, you know what? cooking and doing laundry are more of your thing so you can have them however you want.”
you turn on your heel to walk away, and jungkook follows behind you, celebrating his victory by punching the air and whisper-shouting a yeah!
“what’s here?”
you reach another hallway beside the living room.
“what’s here?” he zooms past you to open a door. “bathroom. there’s a bathtub! but i still need to install grip bars so no one will slip.”
he needs to stop saying things that make you want to make him your husband on the spot.
“and we have my favorite part! the master bedroom, of course!” he swings the door open on the other side. “where else would we spend the most time in?”
“wow, really? i thought you were also endorsing the living room as the bedroom.” you jokingly quirk an eyebrow.
“nonsense!” he cheekily chides you. “you deserve better than that.”
you take a step, peeking inside the empty room that you estimate to be as twice as larger than yours. you can’t say that you care so much about its size, because behind the white curtains, you reel at the prospect of the natural light shining over your face every time you wake up. your mornings have been gloomy since you arrived at seoul four years ago.
he sneaks his arms around your waist, your back resting against his chest, and your being feels so light you might just begin floating when he lets go.
“let’s stay like this for a while.”
“okay,” he puts his chin on top of your shoulder, his soft smile becoming permanent.
the two of you stand at the bedroom’s doorway; the cusp of what could be your entire lives.
“what’s that other room?”
“which one?”
“i don’t know. i see it from the side of my eye.”
he cackles at your humorous nonchalance. “i have more to show you. there’s a guest room… if we decide it to be.”
“cute. i have somewhere else to sleep when i’m mad at you.”
“that’s fine,” he replies after a beat of silence. “at least i’d know where to find you.”
“don’t make me change my mind.”
he cries out your name childishly, burying his face by the crook of your neck. he hugs you tighter. he wants to sleep every night drowning in the sweet scent of your hair. if he had to choose, it would be the most peaceful way to go.
“we have a walk-in closet too!”
“i expected nothing less.” you giggle, not a stranger to his lifestyle. “what’s exciting is that we can finally have a big bed.”
“but i like our small beds.”
“cuddling isn’t all that fun during the summer. trust me, you’d eventually want space.”
“nuh-uh! that’s what aircons are for!”
you roll your eyes at his persistence. “then why did you choose such a huge apartment if you wanted a small bed?”
“so we can have all the space to slow-dance to love songs.”
jungkook, ever the charmer. the butterflies in your stomach come alive beneath his embrace.
“why are you suddenly quiet?” he laughs. “was that too cheesy?”
“no!”
“really?” he spins you around, and heat creeps to your cheeks when he leans in so close that you can perfectly distinguish the brown in his eyes. “so have you given it more thought?”
“given what more thought?”
“there’s nothing to be scared of. it’s only the two of us here, see?” he tells you like overeager puppy. “will you move in with me?”
if this is a dream, you wish to never wake up from it. to have a person care for you this deeply and unconditionally, you want to believe that you have done something right to deserve it.
“i just don’t think you understand what you’re getting yourself into.”
his eyebrows knit together in defense. “what does that mean?”
“the thing is… yeah, sex 24/7 and cuddling and having first times together, that sounds amazing and all… but living with me would probably drive you crazy.”
a tired yawn almost interrupts the end of your sentence, and you cover your face out of courtesy. you sniffle and wipe your teary eyes with the back of your hand.
“i’ve lived on my own for so long. i’m messy and clumsy and i’m used to having everything my way… i mean… i’m willing to compromise, but i can’t promise i won’t be insufferable as hell about it.”
“ah, seriously! you scared me for nothing!” he exclaims, throwing his head back with a groan. “baby, i’ve been living with six other men for the past decade. you know that there was a time when we even slept together in one small room. can you imagine how that must’ve been like for a bunch of teenage boys…? you? messy? think about it again. living with you can’t possibly get worse than that. you don’t have to worry about me! really, i can take it! watch me!”
“but i bleed every month.”
“i’m a man. seeing a little blood doesn’t faze me.”
you make a face. “it’s actually a lot.”
“yah, why are you acting like we haven’t been together for two years?”
“it’s different living together!”
“it’s only natural! i don’t care!”
a noise of complaint bubbles in your throat when he shakes you by your shoulders, coaxing you with an whiny “please baby.”
your chest deflates in defeat. “sure, i guess… as long as we have the big bed, and the slow-dancing-”
“done!” he doesn’t waste his breath, not keen on wasting this opportunity. “anything you want, you have it!”
you narrow your eyes. “and i’ll keep my tutoring job.”
“will you punch the next guy that insists you study at his dorm for me?”
“or i can just keep saying no firmly, baby boy.”
and with that pet name, he instantly folds. “okay.”
“okay?”
“okay, since that’s the only one that you genuinely like.”
“you-” your teeth unconsciously finds your bottom lip to dig into, and you inhale sharply. “…you really love me, don’t you?”
suddenly, you’re raising your voice and waving your hands in the air. you’re feeling too many emotions at once; it’s like when you mix all the colors in a palette and end up creating black. you’re angry and happy and you may be fucking crying again.
“you were just picking up speakers one night and a pretty stranger offers you some boring food and now you want to be stuck with me forever?”
your fist throws a restrained punch to his chest, shoving him backwards.
“oh my god, you’re so stupid!”
jungkook finds this too amusing, tries to hide that he is enjoying this but a smirk is plastered on his face.
“you are loved by so many,” he brushes away the hair that has fallen over your eyes. he tucks them behind you ears and tenderly holds your face in his warm hands. “but i’m confident that i love you the most.”
you are the muse in his dreams. your perfume clings to his clothes. you make him the happiest man on the planet and your pain torments him. what is this, if not love?
“and if that makes me the stupid one? then so be it.”
“when did it become a competition?”
“since you got yourself a competitive boyfriend!”
“okay, fine! let’s make it my fault!”
you throw your arms around his neck, peppering kisses all over his face until he’s an uncontainable giggling mess.
“i’m drowning in kisses! nobody help!”
and you hope you’re hugging him close enough that he can feel the love and gratitude flowing through your veins. your eyes flutter shut, and you sigh— tranquility triumphs over chaos.
“are you falling asleep standing up again?”
“no!” you blatantly lie, drawing back with innocence masking your drowsiness. “we still need to go online shopping!”
“what are we buying?”
your face lights up. “appliances first?”
“appliances?” he cheerfully says. “sure! let’s get you new shoes too!”
as he gets dragged to the living room where his laptop is, he mumbles something with an enamored expression. “i should keep working hard.”
“yah, why are looking at me like that?” jungkook chuckles upon feeling your poorly concealed stare, diverting his attention away from the laptop over his stomach. “i’m the real deal. the tv is over there, on the screen.”
“just because…”
you snuggle closer to his side, heart fluttering when his arm that is your pillow moves to also hold you. you don’t really mind a small bed. this is the most favorable consequence a nuisance could have.
“i feel sorry.”
“sorry? for what?”
“because i made you sad, didn’t i? i hate that so much.” you sniffle, hand coming up to pat his cheek affectionately. “i know it must be hard for you too.”
“you’re the one who’s in a lot of pain.” he means to firmly speak, but the tremble of his voice rudely refuses to cooperate. “how could you even think of me feeling sad?”
“because i love you. of course i always think of you.” you argue, bottom lip jutting out into a pout. “i can’t do that now?”
he sighs. “you know that’s not what i meant.”
a kiss is planted on your forehead— tender and cherishing.
“let’s be happy, baby.”
the sharp edges of jungkook’s fears are eroded in a way. in a universe that relentlessly challenges you to be optimistic, your heart that is well-versed in loving continues to rise above it all.
you echo his words wistfully. “let’s be happy.”
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quiet-out-there · 6 months
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summary: When Finnick notices how the reader's drink has been spiked with sex pollen at one of President Snows Balls, he and Peeta make a plan to save her from the special services the victors sometimes provide for the capitol. Finnick causes a distraction, while Peeta makes sure to take the reader away to safety, only the plan doesn’t go accordingly, and ends up with a sex crazed reader stuck on a closet.
Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader
Warnings: sexual content, slight dubious consent, fingering, lots of praise, dom!Peeta??, reader under sex pollen
Notes: This is my first attempt at a shortfic about Peeta Mellark, as I have been quite obsessed with him lately This story is a short fic with little to no plot, so, enjoy the smut ;) For any weird grammar mistake, feel free to correct me for as inglish isn't my first lenguage!
Word count: 6.6k
Giff: @xiaolanhua
Finnick cursed out loud, grabbing the attention of some of the most important and exclusive people in Panem who were nearby. They began to chuckle and whisper among themselves in return, clearly enjoying the sudden outburst of District’s four beloved victor. Peeta, on the other hand, quickly realized something was wrong, politely ending the conversation with an all too eager sponsor who was in the midst of trying to convince him to go back to her room together. She was old, caked with so much makeup her features were almost unrecognizable. Staring at her for too long made Peeta feel uneasy, as if he were in a fever dream, where everything was washed in an eerie distortion, almost normal but not quite. 
“Are you okay?” was the first thing he said once he got to Finnick’s side, standing beside one of the absurdly food collapsed tables at one of the ballrooms corners. He was holding a glass filled with sweet smelling liquor, his hand so tightly wrapped around it his knuckles were turning white. Peeta was sure it was going to burst into pieces in just a matter of seconds, so he quickly reached for Finnick’s hand, surprised to find little to no resistance as he took the glass away and set it on the table. The motion seemed to snap Finnick out of whatever trance he had been in, blinking at Peeta as if he were just now assessing his presence there.
“What?” was all he could manage to say, his eyes returning their focus to something far away, the feather of a muscle twitching as he grounded his jaw.
“What's wrong?” Peeta pushed, following the man's gaze in an attempt to understand what he was seeing that was making him so mad. Finnick had a temper, Peeta knew that, but it was always tightly concealed in that calm and easy-going facade he portrayed, his armor against everything. It took quite an effort to make him lose his composure.
“(y/n)” He answered, voice made of steel. Peeta frowned, eyes desperately trying to find what was going on, his chest tightening at the mention of your name, “They dosed her drink with an aphrodisiac powder.”
Peeta’s whole body froze, his eyes snapping back to the man beside him. 
“What do you mean aphrodisiac powder, what the hell even is that?”
But Peeta could already imagine what it meant, what they were doing it for. Anger rose in his blood like fire, pumping into his heart, beating so fast it was starting to make it hard for him to breathe -
“Finnick” He managed to get out, hand coming up to grab the man’s arm, turning him to face him.
“I recognized this man talking to Snow earlier” Finnick began, his eyes closing as one of his hands came to massage his temple, as if a piercing headache was making it hard for him to think “He is the one who arranges the customers for-,” he took a deep breath before opening his eyes to meet Peeta's wide ones “ the special services from the victors the capitol sometimes provides”
His stomach churned in a way that threatened to make Peeta vomit every expensive item of food he had ingested tonight, right on the pristine marble floor. He knew exactly what Finnick was talking about. Haymitch had told him about this business Snow ran, a way for him to further control the victors, make them pay for whatever rule breaking he deemed was done on their game, threatening their family’s life as a cost of it. But (y/n) had won fair, she had outsmarted the players, not the capitol, she didn't deserve this, she-
“I have been watching this man all evening, analyzing his moves, trying to figure out who Snow had sold to him,” Finnick continued, interrupting Peeta’s running thoughts. “It was easy enough to discover, with the way he has been practically stalking (y/n) all night.” An exasperated sigh escaped his lips “But something is different this time. He hasn't come up to talk to her and she is completely oblivious to him, as if she doesn't know what Snow has done, as if she hasn't been warned what would happen if she denies”
Her family, massacred. Peeta swallowed, his throat painfully dry all of a sudden. 
“That’s when I noticed what he was doing” Finnick’s hands bawled into fists by his sides, his eyes returning to scan the room before returning to Peeta’s, “They are drugging her, filling her with aphrodisiac poison that will make her unable to think of anything more than sex. They are making her into a puppet so they can take advantage of her, avoiding the resistance, the threats, the compromise on her part.”
“That is sick” Peeta breathed out, feeling lightheaded and utterly disgusted.
“People here in the capitol are absolutely rotten” Finnick spat, “I have been a victim of that drug before. It is so potent, it makes it physically painful to deny sex, it forces the body to need it on a primal level, triggering an almost survival instinct.” 
Peeta cringed at the thought of Finnick, barely a teen, being a subject to all this.
“We have to do something, we have to save her” Peeta rushed through whispered words, his eyes looking around them in search of anyone who could be eavesdropping on their conversation.
“Yes” Finnick agreed, “But we must do it inconspicuously, or they could end up hurting her even more.” 
“What is your plan?” Peeta’s breathing eased a little, his chest loosening at the reminder of Finnick’s clever mind. 
“Once the effects of the drugs kick in, she will quickly excuse herself to the bathroom. There, I will intercept the man, distract him. Make a big scene if I must.” The ghost of a smirk pulled at Finnick’s lips at the thought, before it was quickly wiped away as he continued “You will find (y/n) and get her the hell out of here, but not to her room. They will be probably expecting her there” Peeta shuddered at the thought, nodding at Finnick.
“Where is she now?” Peeta inquired, his eyes returning to the crowd, unable to find the girl in question.
“Near Snow’s fountain, to the left side of the room. She is talking to a man with a neon green top hat.”
Peeta found you instantly then, the loud pounding of his heart in his ears drowning any other sound. You looked so beautiful, he couldn't help to notice, with your hair pulled away from your face in an elegant updo, filled with colored jewels that caught and reflected every light on the ball room, like a beacon. Your dress was made of black jewels as well, hugging every hill and dip of your body in an exquisite way, a slit on the side of your hip revealing the tan skin of your right leg. And your smile, so bright as you laughed at some joke the man before you had uttered, it took his breath away- until he realized how your chest was moving rapidly, as if the air entering your lungs wasn't enough, at how your skin was covered in a sheen of sweet, some stray away hairs curling around the nape of your neck and around your face, and at the way your hands had begun to tremble, hiding the away by clasping them tightly behind your back.
“It is starting,” Finnick commented, straightening his shoulders as if preparing himself to move. Peeta did the same, struggling to calm his fast beating heart.
You offered the man another smile, this one polite, apologetic. The man dipped his head and moved out of your way, allowing you to begin moving into the crowd of people dancing on the dance floor, towards the other side of the room, where the bathrooms were located. Finnick nodded at Peeta, signaling to start moving the same way as you. They got to there first, and Finnick leaned forward to whisper right on Peeta’s ear, in a gesture that seemed like a warm goodbye from a friend to the ignorant eye. 
“I will go for the man, you grab (y/n) and leave right away, don't waste time on explanations until you are both alone and safe.” 
Peeta nodded, clasping his back as reassurance. He could do this, he told himself, willing his body to calm down, to gather his anxious thoughts. 
Before Finnick finally pulled away, he added in a tense, almost somber tone, so lowly his words almost got forgotten among the chattering crowd.
“Do what you must to help her, she’ll be glad it was you and not someone else.”  
Peeta’s brows furrowed in confusion, but before he could ask what Finnick meant by that, he was already being swallowed by the crowd, disappearing among the vibrant colors, the moving bodies, the discordant music that made Peeta’s teeth greet in discomfort. 
Peeta moved onto the side of the bathroom door, acting as if his shoelace had been untied and crouching down to fix it, avoiding anyone starting a conversation with him that could complicate his inconspicuous escape. 
It only took a couple of minutes before he heard your voice,
“S-Sorry, excuse me please” You sounded breathless, words tight in your throat, as if the mere effort to get them out was painful. 
Peeta got up then, instantly identifying you making your way out of the crowd in a desperate attempt to get to the bathroom. He walked up to you just as you took the door handle in your shaky hand, grabbing your wrist in a secure grip before pulling you along with him, without stopping to say anything. You gasped in shock, stumbling slightly over your feet before you could manage to keep up with his fast pace. You pulled at his hand in an attempt to be let go, but he ignored you, mind only focused on one thing-
The exit door, only a couple of steps away
 “Peeta!” you exclaimed as you finally recognized him, struggling to maintain a composure, smile wavering between a frown and a grimace of pain “What the fuck are you doing?” you whispered, feeling as though your vision was shaking, not being able to see people anymore, just shapes and colors merging together in a sickening spin-
You were going to throw up.
“I’m going to be sick” you pleaded, arm now falling limp on his firm grip, deciding to leave fate in his hands- unable to do anything to resist, and knowing deep down Peeta would never hurt you.
Peeta’s heart squeezed on his chest as he heard you, and he opened his mouth to explain -what? he did not know- anything to make you feel better, to help you understand what was going on,
But then a crushing sound vibrated across the room, making people gasp and scream in shock, their attention now focused on the other side of the room. 
Finnick
Peeta let out a sigh of relief as he got to the entrance door, which was luckily open, not a peacekeeper in sight.  He didn't waste a second to pull you out towards the main hall, where the elevator to the victor's rooms was.
“It will be alright (y/n), I promise” Peeta finally spoke, his voice just above a whisper, as he continued his way with unbreakable determination, both of your steps resonating against the glass floor the only sound in the spacious room “just trust me, okay?”
You felt as if Peeta’s voice was coming from underwater, muffled and far away- But still managed to understand.
“Okay” You replied, unable to voice any other word running through your dizzy brain - Your heart, you realized, it was beating so fast you couldn't catch a breath, and your skin, it felt so uncomfortable, so tight against your body- you wanted to rip it out. And the heat, the fucking heat
Peeta’s hand freed your wrist as he pressed the elevator’s button in a frantic pace, his other coming up to grip your hip, pushing so you stood in front of him, blocking the view of your body with his. 
You were so close now, bodies almost pressed together. His smell invaded you like the most intoxicating, addictive perfume you had ever sensed, tightening your chest in a silent hitch of breath - And his touch- so firm and strong, fingers pressing down on the overly sensitive flesh on your hip witch was barely covered in the thin material of your jeweled gown- it set flames through your veins
Peeta heard the rush of voices coming down the hall, right from where you had come, before he felt their quick heels clad steps coming closer. Whatever Finnick had done, it had set a commotion enough to make people begin to retreat to their chambers in a hurry. 
His eyes snapped to the elevator, the bright gold number still stuck on the 7th floor, and he realized it wasn't going to come by quick enough - They were already nearing the corner, they were going to catch the both of you, they were going to take you away and hurt you-
He secured your hand in his before he began to pull you further down the hall, your feet struggling to find their footing but managing not to stumble over them as you followed him. There was only one door in the hall, right on the end of it, a black metal block painted in bright gold. Peeta didn't bother to knock on it as he grabbed the handle, twisting it at the same time he pushed the side of his body on it to open it- and to his surprise and utter relief- it did. He didn't waste a second to push you inside, head twisting back one last time to see down the hall, where he noticed a couple of people beginning to appear, their vibrant colors striking against the pristine white walls and gold floor details. 
He closed the door behind him, leaving out the light from the hall, engulfing you both in complete darkness. He let out a long breath, his head dropping back against the door frame, a chuckle leaving his chest before he could stop it.
You tried to blink back the darkness, but your eyes were still struggling to adjust. Something was very wrong, you realized, as you couldn't seem to make the air from the space enter your lungs. You stepped back from the man in front of you in an attempt to gain some distance and ground yourself, but you felt the cool jab of metal meet your back- you twisted on the spot, freeing your hand from Peeta’s as you extended your arms in front of you. And you felt, to your utter horror, how on every side you were met with metal railings or the cool feeling of painted concrete walls. 
The space was tiny. A closet, of some sorts, you figured with a leap of your heart.
 “I can't” you gasped aloud, one hand coming up to clutch your chest, pulling at the absurd number of necklaces that had been wrapped around your neck- it felt as if you were choking “I can't breathe.” 
Peeta’s hands were instantly extended in search of you, his eyes wide in an attempt to see something, but only being met with darkness. 
“It is okay, hey, I’m here” He whispered, one of his hands brushing your shoulder. The contact made electricity run down your body, and you twisted in an attempt to get away from his touch, managing only to bump into the railing so hard, their contents began to fall onto the floor-
Peta cursed under his breath at the loud sound of stuff crashing against the glass floor, his heart drumming onto his chest as he felt the footsteps from outside alarmingly close. 
“Hey, hey calm down” He tried again, his hand grabbing your shoulder this time. And you tried to twist away again, desperate to get away from the warmth, the heat of his body, his burning touch-
it was too much, too much 
You pushed into the railing again making it crash against the wall in a loud bang. 
“(y/n)” Peeta rushed, his voice tight on his chest in anxiousness. But you didn't hear him, wouldn't hear him, needing to get away, desperately trying to do so-
Peeta felt the voices outside begin to wonder what those noises down the hall were, their loud cackling dimming down as if to hear better. He knew it was only a matter of seconds before somebody came up to investigate,
“Calm down” He ordered, voice low, almost a murmur. You could feel it vibrating on your chest, “We have to stay quiet, or they will find us.”
You tried to reason with his words, to obey, to understand what the fuck was going on - but then a pang of pain shot down your belly, taking the air from your lungs in a rush of a breath, before settling in a tight coil of aching between your legs. It made a whine fall from your lips before you could stop it, eyes closing as you hugged your body tightly.
Peeta’s heart stopped when he felt nearing footsteps, arms shooting forward when he heard your loud whine of pain at the same time, determined now to make you quiet. One hand found your hip as the other your arm, and he didn't waste a second to twist your bodies, so you stood with your back pressed to his chest. One of his strong arms circled your waist, locking you into him in a grip so tight you couldn't move an inch, as his other hand came to your face, palm pressing onto your mouth to silence any noise. 
And just like that, your senses cleared, they sharpened, they focused and circled on only one thing-
Him.
The way his warm body was pressed to yours, the feeling of his strong muscled arm wrapped around your waist, the way his chest pushed against you in every intake of breath, the feeling of his heart pounding so loud and fast against your back- and his god damn smell, so sweet and dark and intoxicating- it made the coil deep within your core tighten painfully, breath hitching on your throat.   
Peeta strained his ear to hear whatever was going on outside, the footsteps stopping just inches away, its shadow casting beneath the door frame. But it was so hard to concentrate on anything else that the way for body felt pressed to his - so warm he thought you might be having a fever-  and the way you were breathing so hard and fast, you were panting against his hand- but he could notice, he could see how much you were trying to do as he said, to stay still and be quiet, even if you were in so much discomfort 
“That’s it, calm down” He whispered, lowering his head so his lips were pressed to your ear, making sure only you could hear him. “You are doing so good” he praised, the words warm against your skin. 
The way he phrased those words was enough to make a shiver run through your spine and make your head spin with desire. You hadn't noticed the way you had begun to press further onto him, almost as if desperate to be closer, to feel him even further. And his hand, his fucking hand had begun to rub the side of your waist in a comforting way,
You were melting. But you wanted more, you needed more-
Peeta tried to ignore the way you had begun to move against him, how your breathing had changed to something deeper, how your mouth let slip little whines and moans against his hand. He knew it was the drug's effect, he knew you couldn't help it, he knew he had to maintain a clear head, to take care of you and make sure you stayed safe.
And then you felt it, as you ground your body against his, you felt something hard begin to press against your ass. It made something in you snap, a need so desperate and maddening, it made fire rush through your veins as if boiling from the inside out- it made your brain drunk and fuzzy with desire- and the pain, the excruciating coil tightening between your legs, it was too much, too much.    
Peeta felt your hand suddenly grip his, moving his arm away from your hip. He felt almost in a daze, as if unable to stop you as you moved it down your body. His breath hitched in your ear as you pressed his hand right between your legs, where you needed him the most. The thin material of your jeweled gown was the only thing standing between his fingers and your pussy- he could feel how warm you were, and cursed aloud when he noticed also how wet. 
“We can't” He whispered; voice slightly breaking as he felt you increase the pressure of his fingers “They have drugged you with an aphrodisiac. You are not thinking straight-”  
A moan slipped through your lips, muffled by his hand still pressed against your mouth. Peeta's eyes strained on the doorframe, noticing the shadow gone. He almost sighed in relief, until he felt the loud chuckles coming from outside-
they were still there.
Your brain couldn't comprehend anything else but the need for him. A need that was becoming so strong, the pain was unbearable. You could feel tears swell in your eyes as you gasped, your other hand coming up to push away his own from your mouth. 
“Please, Peeta, I can't take this anymore- I” you choked on a whine when you felt his other hand slip from away from your body “-I need you, please, just help me.”
You pleaded, head dropping back against his shoulder in utter defeat. 
Peeta cursed again, eyes tightening shut as he searched for the will to contain himself, to find a way to reason with you, to make you understand how this was so wrong-
But then he remembered Finnick's words. ‘Do what you must to help her,’ what did he even mean? Was this the only way you could go through this? You would hate him for it, Peeta thought, taking advantage of you like this- but you were in pain, you were literally crying and shaking in his arms, he couldn't stand seeing you like this, it was breaking him-
“Please” you whined, your own hand coming between your legs to relieve some of the pressure there in a futile attempt- you felt absolutely nothing.
“Okay” he murmured against your ear, telling it more to himself than to you, making up his mind. “How can I help you, (y/n), just tell me how.” 
You sigh in relief at his words, closing your eyes in anticipation.
“Touch me” you whispered, breathless “Please.”
Peeta felt lightheaded with the way you were so desperate, so needy for him. In any other circumstance, he would have given away with the first please ever uttered from your beautiful lips- because you were always so composed, so strong, so unwavering- hearing you like this was making him almost as desperate for you as you were for him.
“Please what?” Peeta couldn't help to reply, his voice just as breathless as yours, beginning to move his arms, tentatively resting his hands on your hips.
You groaned in frustration, beginning to push yourself away from him so you could turn around to face him when you felt one of his strong hands spread across your abdomen, pushing you right back against him. He was so strong, you couldn't help but think, imagining his hands pushing and pulling other parts, handling you as if it were nothing-
“Please, Peeta” you begged.
Peeta melted at the sound of those tight words in your throat.
“So polite” he praised, finally moving one hand to the side of your hip where the slit of your gown began. His callous warm fingers met your bare skin there and you sighed in content “Such a good girl” he whispered, mouth pressing down just below your right earlobe, in that sensitive spot that felt to good it sent tingles down your body and made you moan out loud before you could stop it-
Peeta’s other hand instantly moved to cover your mouth once again, roughly pushing your head back against his shoulder. 
“What was that?” A woman’s voice exclaimed from the hall outside, filled with delight “Sounds like someone’s having a good time!”
Peeta cursed on your ear, the words sounding even more coarse coming out of his mouth. 
You whimpered, unable to take the pain between your legs any longer- your heart was beating so fast, it seemed as if you couldn't catch your breath, your skin so taut you thought it might snap over your bones, and the heat- you thought you might pass out 
“Shh it’s okay” Peeta tried to calm you, his eyes glued to the shadows now outside of your door. Had they figured someone was inside here? “Be quiet doll, you can do it.”
You nodded your head in a haze, desperate to show him you would do anything he said. 
Peeta knew you couldn't take it any longer, practically limp in his arms, trembling in his grip. He took in a shaky deep breath before he began to move the hand on your hip underneath the surprisingly thin material of your gown. Your skin was so smooth and soft, and so, so warm- Peeta had to take a minute to just caress between your hip and upper thigh, savoring the feeling of your tender flesh beneath his rough fingers - before he heard your impatient cry from within his hand covering your mouth. His heart skipped a beat when he noticed the shadows beneath the door begin to move away, using the courage to finally dip his fingers between your thighs. His breath hitched when he noticed you didn't have anything under your gown, being met with your bare pussy right beneath his finger, hand freezing in place as the realization of what he was doing, and to whom, dawned on him.
He was about to fuck (y/n), districts four beloved 73rd hunger games victor.
“You are killing me” you mumbled against his palm, desperately pushing your hips forward in an attempt to increase the pressure of his fingers where you needed him most. So, he dipped his hand further, his muscled arm tensing over your belly as he did, bringing you flushed against him. And his fingers, ever so slowly, began to part your folds, his eyes closing as his head dropped down to lean on your shoulders at the feeling of your slick coating his fingers, smoothing his entrance. You bit his hand in an attempt to quiet the moan bubbling on your chest, head pushing back against his shoulder in an attempt to get a grip on yourself.
“So good” he murmured, lips tightly pressed to your ear “So good, so quiet.” 
You could feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as he began to rub your wetness up and down, right over the bundle of nerves that send electric waves of pleasure down your body. One of your hands came down to grip his arm, pushing it down with further force- Peeta instantly knew what you wanted, what it meant- and he obliged, increasing the pressure and pace of his fingers. 
The people outside began to cheer for something, the noise followed by clapping. Peeta didn't waste a second to remove his hand against your mouth, moving it down to your chin as he pushed your head further back, adjusting so his ear was right over your mouth-
“Let me hear you doll” He breathed, his fingers quickening their pace almost desperately so- feeling so good it made your toes curl and your thighs squeeze around his hand. And you moaned, so desperate and needy it would have embarrassed you if it weren't for the fact that that was exactly how you felt for him. 
“Peeta” you choked out in a gasp right on his ear, and that was enough to make Peeta lose his mind, a low groan escaping from his own lips, the sound so deep and hoarse it vibrated on his chest.
You could feel his erection pressed on your backside, so hard you knew we wanted you just as much at the moment. And you wanted to feel him, God, it was all you could have ever wanted, so you started to move your hand to your back- until you felt his hand suddenly stop, making you freeze in place. You could hear his ragged breathing, feel his heart pounding against your back-
“Look at me,” He whispered, interrupting the sudden silence. You opened your eyes, surprised to notice how they had adjusted to the darkness, able to see the outlines of the door, the metal railing filled with cleaning supplies- you were in fact, in a closet. And then you looked up, finding his beautiful face before you. 
He was so handsome; you had noticed that the first time you saw him. With his big, deep brown eyes and breathtaking smile. And now, with his messy blonde hair, his parted soft lips, his completely darkened eyes-
He looked delicious.
“You are absolutely beautiful” he murmured, the hand on your chin moving up to cup the side of your face. “(y/n)” he continued, a deep breath leaving his lips, fanning your own. You wanted to taste him so badly “You are not on your right mind, this is not what you want.”
You shook your head, exasperated.
“I want you so badly” you voiced in a shuddering breath “If you don't touch me right now, I think I might die.”
You used his stun position to free from his grasp, finally turning so you were face to face. He looked completely disheveled, his white tux discarded on the floor, and his matching shirt completely wrinkled, the first buttons torn and revealing a slit of tanned skin. 
“I-” He began but you couldn't resist any longer, shutting him up with a kiss. 
His hands were on you instantly, pulling at your hips to position you flush against him, to then wrap his arms around your waist to lock you in place. Your hand snaked to the back of his head, where you tangled them on his hair, slightly pulling it just to hear him groan again- it felt like fuel to the fire inside you. You used the moment to deepen the kiss, meeting his warm tongue inside his mouth. The kiss was desperate, hungry, lips moving feverishly against each other.
Peeta forgot about everything else, about the people on the other side of the door, about getting caught- he could only think about you, about feeling you against him, your lips on his, your tongue on his mouth- he wanted more. His hands began to roam your body, testing, feeling, kneading your soft flesh in a grip so strong you knew would certainly leave bruises. And then they were on your ass, squeezing so tight you moaned against his mouth- and he was lifting you up from the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist-
“I need you” You panted against his lips, finally breaking the kiss. The coil in your lower stomach feeling even more unbearable, the pain was making you see white dots in the corner of your vision “I need you inside me.”
Peeta leaned his forehead to yours, attempting to regain control of himself, to think straight. He sat your body against the railing, separating enough so he could see your face, meet your eyes.
And he stared at you, almost in awe before he spoke again, dropping his head back as if to force himself to stop doing it any longer.
“Your eyes” he breathed out, “they shine so black when you are hot for me.” 
You cupped his face between your warm hands, forcing him to face you as you once again begged-
“please”
Peeta wanted nothing more than to oblige - he would have lifted your gown and fucked you right there against the railings- but he knew he couldn’t. He couldn't, not when you were under the effects of a drug that altered your senses, your reasoning.   
So, he compromised. Not doing anything was torture to you, or so he told himself, moving so one of his arms could fit between both of your bodies while the other began to lift your gown and gather it just over your hips. 
“Are you going to be a good girl and stay quiet?” He panted, his ears once again registering the commotion outside. Seemed like they moved the party to the hall, he realized, glad that the noise had gone louder, hiding what was going on in the little storage closet down the corridor.
“Yes” you whimpered, unable to contain the tears swelling in your eyes due to the pain, and the excitement- 
Such a wreck for him, Peeta thought, brain drunk in desire.
“You are the one killing me, (y/n)” he murmured, holding your gaze with eyes so intense you thought he might be looking through you. 
And then his hand was between your legs again, slowly rubbing your wet folds, surprised at how they were more so than before. He quicken up the pace faster this time, taking his time in enjoying every sinful sound falling from your lips, your head falling back to lean against the railing- you gasped when you felt his other hand grip your chin, thumb and index finger pressing against your cheeks and forcing you to open your eyes
“Look at me” he panted, and you thought you might cum just by the way he was looking at you with so much hunger-
And then you gasped in shock as without a warning two of his fingers slipped inside you, his thumb continuing to rub on your sensitive clit. Pleasure shocked through your body making you involuntary shake against the rails, the pressure on your lower abdomen coiling impossibly tighter-
“I'm gonna-” you whined, head leaning forward to try and find somewhere to lean on, but Peeta’s grip held you there on place, forcing you to face him. 
“Say please” He breathed, lips hovering over yours, his fingers moving in and out of you with the perfect pressure, the perfect pace, and his thumb-
“Peeta” you whimpered.
He could feel how close you were, how your walls clenched around his fingers in the most delicious way- he thought he was close himself to climax, just by the way your face scrunched with pleasure, how your body became undone under his touch-
“Come on doll, ask nicely” He encouraged, needing to hear you beg, just one more time.
 “Please” you managed moan.
And he was merciless about it, plunging his fingers into you harder, faster, his thumb rubbing against your clit feverishly, curling his fingers and hitting just the perfect spot-
You become undone with his name on your lips, waves of pleasure erupting from deep within your tummy as the tight coil finally released, toes curling and body jerking. He slowed the pace of his fingers as he continued to ride you out of your orgasm, your shaking body finally collapsing into his, blind with gratification and exhaustion.
Peeta panted against your ear as he finally removed his fingers from inside you, proceeding to hold you tight against him before he lowered you from the railing back onto your feet- until he quickly realized you couldn't stand on your own, arms wrapping securely around your waist and across your back to hold you in place, your own coming up to snake around his neck in a solid embrace.
“Are you alright?” He whispered, his breathing still ragged, heart pounding loudly against your chest pressed to his- you on the other hand, were completely crashing, blood pressure dropping, white stars dancing in the back of your close eyelids. 
“hmm” you hummed, struggling to remain conscious.
“I think they left” Peeta voiced his thoughts, frowning in concentration as he listened for any noise outside- but it was completely quiet, he soon realized. 
You didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, brain completely fogged with satisfaction, body finally out of pain and completely relaxed on his arms, as if meant to be there all along.
“(y/n)” Peeta shook you, his tone finally above a whisper “Hey, I need you to stay here yeah? stay with me.”
You tried to nod but your head just fell limp against his shoulder-
He smelled so fucking good.
“Thank you?” He replied, amusement clear on his breathless words.
You hadn't realized you had voiced your thoughts out loud, a soft chuckle scaping your lips.
“You are completely out of it, aren't you” He sighed, leaning over you so he rested his chin on top of your head, attempting to calm himself down.
You frowned at the height difference, moving your feet, and realizing you were barefoot, heels completely lost somewhere in the tiny closet.
Once Peeta finally could catch his breath, heart in a slightly normal pace, he stepped closer to the door, your almost limp body secure in his strong arms. He pushed the side of his face flat against the cool metal, concentrating on identifying any sound that could indicate someone on the other side but-
Nothing. Silence.
“Okay” He murmured, nodding “Okay, we are going to come out, yes?”
You mumbled a reply, what? you didn't know, but it was enough to make Peeta nod again. You felt him loosen his grip on you making you react on clinging to him with all your strength, desperate to avoid the loss of contact.
“Hey, I’m here, I won't leave you” He assured you, hands pushing you by the hips to create some space between the two- and you were so completely weak, barely registering your body at all, that you couldn't avoid the separation. 
You frowned, opening your mouth to try and object, when you were suddenly being lifted from the ground and up on his arms again, this time in bridal style, with one of his arms holding under your knees as the other secured around your back. 
“Romantic” you gushed, chuckling again.
Peeta rolled his eyes, sheepish smile tugging at his lips, as he adjusted his body so his hand could twist the handle and open the door. He loosens a breath he didn't know had been holding as he registered the hall with quick assessing eyes, noticing it completely deserted.
You tried to blink at the sudden light, but it took just a couple of blinks before your eyes dropped closed again, as if the weight of them was impossible to overcome. 
“Your room is not safe” He murmured, beginning to make his way to the elevator with you tightly held on to his arms “We will go to mine.”
You nodded, the pull of unconsciousness so strong you were sure it was only a matter of seconds before you were out- so you snuggled closer to him, wrapping your arms across his neck and positioning your face right at the nape of his neck, where his smell washed over you and his warmth seeped to your skin.
And just like that, you were out with a content smile plastered on your face.
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paleontaxi · 2 years
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//tag dump
#🚕  ☲☲☲  ✘  so‚ where are headed today with happy taxi ?  【 ic 】#🚕  ☲☲☲  ✘  i have some anger management issues . . . now you know  【 headcanon 】#🚕  ☲☲☲  ✘  you're a teen‚ and your brain is still developing  【 crack 】#🚕  ☲☲☲  ✘  go on and ask me a question if you want to  【 memes 】#🚕  ☲☲☲  ✘  it's a tribute to my beautiful daughter  【 lola 】#🚕  ☲☲☲  ✘  have you seen this movie that came out ?  【 dash comm 】#🚕  ☲☲☲  ✘  tick tock ! the game has started  【 dash games 】#🚕  ☲☲☲  ✘  that a new hat ?  【 fashion 】#🚕  ☲☲☲  ✘  you know . . . you remind me of someone  【 open 】#🚕  ☲☲☲  ✘  i'm going to turn the music up now  【 radio 】#🚕  ☲☲☲  ✘  don't insult me  【 answered 】#🚕  ☲☲☲  ✘  all my cigarettes are wet  【 aesthetic 】#🚕  ☲☲☲  ✘  it's one of those good news‚ bad news situations  【 musings 】#🚕  ☲☲☲  ✘  i find it cozy in here . . . just you and me . . . together  【 promo 】#🚕  ☲☲☲  ✘  you picked the wrong guy to pick up  【 self promo 】#🚕  ☲☲☲  ✘  talking . . . talking ! it only made things worse !  【 drabbles 】#🚕  ☲☲☲  ✘  i'm scaring you‚ aren't i ? . . . sorry  【 visage 】#🚕  ☲☲☲  ✘  you don't wanna get tired on the road  【 psa 】#🚕  ☲☲☲  ✘  what did i say about disturbing the customers ?  【 ooc 】
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Finally Together
When Jerry called, I could immediately tell something was very wrong. He was holding an ice pack up to his face and looked deranged overall.
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"Jerry? What the hell happened to you?"
"Oh, hey. Yeah. This." he pointed at his face. "That's a long story."
"Let me see!" I demanded. You see, Jerry was, most definitely, my bff - my very best, very gay friend. And he had a talent for getting into trouble, sadly.
He slowly lowered the ice pack and I gasped. His right eye was swollen shut, and his face was covered in bruises.
"How..."
"Well, there was this guy. He was kinda hot, and totally my type, but, you know, straight as an arrow. At least *now* I know that." Even despite his bruises, Jerry raised his eyebrows in the cutest way possible - one of the traits I admired about them.
Yes, I should mention, I kiiiind of had a tiny little crush on Jerry. Or perhaps a gigantic one. You always want the ones you can't have, right? In my case, I was a woman - which was enough to disqualify myself rather finally.
"...and? Did he hit you?" I asked, even though I already suspected the answer.
"Yeah. I was just talking to him, trying to subtly find out his orientation. You know how it goes. Apparently, I wasn't too subtle about it, though, and he kind of escalated all over my face. It's no big deal, now I know."
Jerry smiled, but I could clearly see that it caused him pain to do so. It nearly broke my heart.
"It is a big deal." I answered. "That's horrible. You are worth so much more than this. Where did it happen? Did you call the police?"
"It was in the gym. Keith - that's the guy - works there, so, I guess, I need a new gym." Jerry joked. "And no, I didn't call the police, it's just... it's alright, okay Mathilda?"
I was not convinced but decided to let it go. Jerry was just a so sweet and innocent guy, he wouldn't even cause someone trouble if that someone punched in his face. I, on the other hand, was fuming. That was not a way to treat my bff! I would have really liked to kick that Keith's ass right now.
I chatted a bit more with Jerry before he had to go and promised him to come over that evening.
To be quite honest, I didn't plan to do anything, but when I was walking to Jerry's apartment in the afternoon, I passed his gym. I didn't even know it was on the way, because I honestly never paid attention to it much. But now that I saw it on the way, I couldn't help it. I would go in there and just tell the manager that one of their employees was a homophobic asshole. Just a little push in the right direction.
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I entered the gym. It looked quite standard, but I couldn't see any manager or anyone else to talk to, for that matter, so I just went in there. It was quite empty, which was not surprising at this time of the day. There was, however, a young, muscular man doing push-ups. It was quite disgusting, actually, with all the sweat dripping down his body and a musky, penetrant smell was filling the room.
He stood up and greeted me.
"Hi, there. You're not a member, are you?"
"I'm not." I said. I felt like adding a "sorry" or something but decided against it. Instead, I clutched my handbag tighter.
"So, what can I do for you, ma'am?" He had that smug grin of an urge driven man who seemed to undress me with his gaze. I shuddered in disgust, but still, I straightened my back.
"Well, actually, I'm here to make a complaint."
"A complaint? About what?"
"Your staff."
"Oh? Do you have an issue with someone working here?"
"Well, yes. I just learned that one of your trainers, Keith was the name, I think, assaulted a customer. That is a terrible way to treat people, and I will not stand for it."
The guy laughed and flashed me a superior grin while he nonchalantly readjusted his groin. Free balling of course. Ugh. Can you spell 'toxic masculinity'?
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"Look, honey. Whoever told you that, they lied to you. Keith would never hit a girl, especially not a pretty one."
I felt my face reddening from anger.
"First off, I'm not your honey, and secondly, it wasn't a girl but a guy."
The guy raised his eyebrows. "Really? A guy, huh?"
"Yes. He is my very good friend, and it's not funny at all."
"Hmm. Yeah, I think I remember the guy, some fruity fag who needed to be told a lesson."
Then it dawned on me. The disgusting guy in front of me was the man that had hurt Jerry.
"You're the one who did it! How dare you!" I exclaimed and tried to slap his face.
Before I could land a hit, though, he grabbed my wrist with an iron grip and grinned like a predator.
"Ah, ah. I wouldn't try that, if I were you. Would be a shame, if something were to happen to your pretty face, too."
I withdrew my hand and trembled from disgust.
"Ugh. You're just such a disgusting... jock."
In hindsight, I had no idea what happened, but perhaps some benevolent spirit or sprite was listening. In any case, Keith all of a sudden got a really strange expression on his face and looked really pale for a moment. And then... he suddenly looked even paler, like white paper or cloth. I will never be able to forget the expression of surprise on his face, as his body kind of... collapsed in on himself. His muscular torso diminished, and his arms and legs twisted and fused into thin rubber strips. But his face... His face contorted into a white fabric pouch that was completely devoid of any features within seconds. It had only taken a few moments, but Keith had disappeared.
I looked around first, but nobody else was in the gym right now. I carefully stepped closer and inspected what was left of Keith. Inside his black, damp gym shorts that was lying on the ground, I could see a pair of men's underwear, I believe it was called a jockstrap: A large fabric pouch held by rubber bands - designed to just cover the genitals, although, judging by the size of the pouch, rather large genitals. Now, as Keith had demonstrated quite clearly just a few moments ago, he had certainly not be wearing any underwear - and I had seen what had happened to his face.
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With pointed fingers, careful not to touch the damp gym shorts and almost gagging from the strong smell, I picked up the piece of underwear. I had almost thrown it away again, when I noticed that it, too, was covered in sweat and stink. However, the piece of underwear that had once been a man held a strange fascination to me. I lifted it up to my face, to have a closer look, but didn't consider the consequences. When I breathed in, my nose was filled with the overwhelmingly strong and manly smell of sweaty, unwashed genitals, and it triggered something inside of me. All of a sudden, I felt tingly all over and groaned. My body felt weird all of a sudden. It was like that disgusting smell was all around me, enveloping me, pushing me to... change, somehow.
In horror, I felt my feet swelling up in my shoes. It wasn't painful, but it felt like I had been wearing boots that were way too small. The pressure was quickly getting unbearable and painful until my canvas shoes and thin socks couldn't take it anymore. First on the left and then, shortly after, on the right side, the toes of massive feet burst out from the footwear. The pressure subsided, and it felt fine again.
The changes didn't stop, though. Now that my feet had broken free from their restraints, my legs were the next to follow. A ripping sound heralded the death of my tights, as my legs gained mass and muscles. It looked almost comically how the threads of my tights were ripped apart, strand for strand. At the same time, I watched, as my hands grew larger. Gone were my delicate fingers, replaced by thick sausage-like appendages. Those new finger weren't carefully manicured but instead, I was now sporting short, ugly nails that would have been fitting for a lumberjack, rather than a girl.
While my legs were still growing, and I was getting visibly taller, my arms were next to follow. My blouse didn't even stand a chance as the arms did not only grew longer but most importantly, stronger. My biceps swelled like I visited the gym every day and, to my horror, I saw a tattoo forming on my right arm that reminded me a lot of the one Keith had had. I didn't have much time to think about it, though, as a new force practically ripped my blouse apart: My torso was pushing outward in all directions. My shoulders widened considerably, and my bra snapped from the strain. At first, I thought my boobs were growing, but it was quite the opposite. They were receding into my body, being replaced by even more massive and decidedly male pecs. Below them, a ripple went through my stomach, leaving behind the cobblestone road of abs.
The changes had met up at my midsection now and I was afraid of what was going to happen next. Sure enough, my skin-tight summer trousers bulged forward as something pressed against them from the inside.
"No..." I groaned, with a lower voice than I was used to, and tried to push whatever was appearing back into my midsection, but it was no use. With another ripping sound, a penis emerged from between my legs, quickly followed by a pair of testicles that pushed the ruined trousers down and settled in between my tree trunk-like thighs.
My head started swimming. That was wrong, that was so wrong. But the changes just went on. An Adam's apple formed in my throat, further lowering my voice, and my face reformed. It became squarer, and my jawbones became more pronounced. At the same time, my beautiful long hair receded into a short masculine cut. However, as hair disappeared on top of my head, it grew elsewhere. Or, should I say everywhere. Disgusting, wiry body hair grew in on my arms and legs and even on top of my enormous feet and the back of my hands. My chest was coated by a layer of short and coarse hair, and a treasure trail led down my midsection, where it disappeared into a thick pubic bush.
Speaking of bushes, two more formed in the large area of my armpits. Ugh. I was hairy like a fucking monkey. The only well-groomed bit of body hair was on my face, in the short beard that I could see in the gym mirror.
I could hardly believe my eyes. Staring back at me from the reflection was no one else but Keith. *I* was a splitting image of Keith now, only naked aside from the tatters of my clothes. I wanted to scream, but all that came out was a low grunt.
Okay, Mathilda, no reason for panic, I told myself. I would just... Go see a doctor. Yes. There had to be an explanation. This could be treated.
I took a step towards the exit and stumbled over the remains of my coughing. Oh, right, I was still naked.
The only piece of clothing was Keith's gym shorts. Well, his gym shorts and Keith himself, who was a piece of underwear now. I looked between the shorts and the underwear. On the one hand, I really didn't want to wear what had just been Keith, but on the other hand... I certainly wasn't going without any underwear. Everyone would be able to see the outline of my current genitals. Yuck.
So, lacking other options, I pulled on the white piece of underwear. It was, unsurprisingly, very sweaty, and it clung to my junk. I grimaced, but it was better than the alternative. My ass was still largely uncovered, but that was not as bad as the front side. I had to admit that my new equipment filled out the pouch pretty well.
I quickly shook my head and pulled on the gym shorts as well. It felt weird not to cover my chest, but that was probably acceptable in my current state.
Perhaps I could ask Jerry if I could borrow some men's clothing from him.
Oh my, Jerry. He was probably waiting for me. I grabbed my handbag and fled the gym.
Walking felt weird. Of course, regardless of my looks, I was still a woman, so I took small steps and refused to spread my legs too much while walking. It was very awkward. The sun was shining down and although it wasn't all *that* hot, I found myself starting to sweat. How disgusting was that? It was like those stupid mountains of muscle were producing so much heat that my skin was soon glistening with sweat and my armpits started to smell. I tested it by lifting an arm and taking a whiff. Ugh. I needed a shower, badly. I probably would be able to use Jerry's.
Jerry... I saw his face right in front of me in my mind. The cute smile, the adorable brown eyes, the cute little dimples on his cheeks when he grinned.
A strange feeling came over me from my groin area. What was going on down there? When I looked down, the ample bulge of my cock had become even bigger, probably tenting out the pouch that had been Keith's face. I groaned. Men were so primitive. All it took was one sexy thought and bam, erection.
Still, I couldn't deny that it felt pretty good. I checked it anyone on the street was looking before I felt the outline of the cock through the layers of clothing with my big hand. The touch made me moan, and I felt my member throb.
That's when I experienced the weirdest feeling. As the sweat from my groin mixed with the fluids seeping out of the cock head and were absorbed by the jockstrap, all of a sudden, I felt the presence of Keith - the real Keith. It was like a strong mental attack, to get his body back, but I fought back. It was not *his* body, it was mine, even though it may have looked like Keith right now.
It was the strangest experience. I could practically *feel* his thoughts and emotions. The humiliation from being wrapped around, well, *my* cock and balls, I could even taste and smell an echo of what he was tasting and smelling, including the weird taste of precum that had mixed into the face-pouch recently.
It wasn't easy, but I repelled Keith's mind and kind of stuffed it back into the underwear. When I continued my walk, I didn't even notice that I know walked like a man: With long, powerful strides and enough room for my balls.
Luckily, my cock had calmed down a bit by now, and I ran the rest of the way, just to make sure. I was glistening with more sweat when I finally arrived at Jerry's apartment and rang the bell. Ugh. That musk was so bad, I just hoped I could hop under the shower right away.
However, when Jerry opened the door, we were both stunned for a moment. I because Jerry looked even better in reality than when I imagined him. Foreign hormones flooded my system, coming from my balls and I just stood there for a moment. Of course, I had a crush on Jerry before, but right now, in this moment, I realized for the first time that now, Jerry wasn't quite as unreachable as before.
Jerry, on the other hand, backed away, an expression of fear on his face.
"Keith, what... Is this some kind of joke?"
I was taken aback by his reaction.
"No! It's not... It's me, Mathilda!"
"Who?"
"Mathilda, your best friend."
Jerry stared at me, confusion on his face.
"What are you talking about Keith? Wasn't it enough for you to bash my face in? Do you want to humiliate me now?"
"No, please. Listen, Jerry, you're my friend, and I would never hurt you."
He scoffed. "Oh really? My black eye says otherwise."
I could feel myself getting upset from all the testosterone and took a deep breath.
"I can explain. Please, Jerry, hear me out."
He looked at me skeptically.
"Fine. I'll listen."
With that, he let me into his apartment.
"Okay, first of all, can I take off these gym shorts? They are really really disgusting and sweaty, and they are clinging to my legs. Yuck!"
"Uh, oookay." Jerry looked even more confused but allowed it.
Gladly, I got rid of the stinking shorts and threw them at the ground, far away from me. Jerry frowned but was apparently more captured by my now only jockstrap-clad body that I sat down on his couch. I admit I wanted to get rid of the jockstrap, too, but then I would have been completely naked in my friend's living room.
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The thought was oddly exciting, and I felt my cock raise in reaction.
I just hoped that Jerry wouldn't notice my state of arousal, even though there wasn't much fabric left to hide it, but I quickly spoke.
"So, Jerry, it's really me. Remember the time when we watched Star Trek: Voyager and had a pillow fight, and you beat me easily, even though I am taller and stronger?"
"How would you know about that, Keith?" Jerry crossed his arms. He had obviously noticed my midsection problem, which was throbbing now, leading to another wet spot on the piece of underwear.
"I'm telling you, I am Ma..."
Suddenly, I grabbed my head. There it was again. Keith had reacted to my arousal and was fighting for control of *my* body again. It was weaker this time, though, and although it took me a few moments, I pushed him back between my legs, where he belonged.
Finally, I spread my legs, man-spreading without even thinking about it and giving the whole world in general and Jerry in particular a good view of my massive groin. A smirk formed on my face. Having such a big cock was something to be proud of.
"...Mathilda." I finished my sentence, although I found the name rather unfitting for a stud like me. "I just kind of... transformed into Keith's body, but it's still the same old man as always. Woman, I mean."
"Uh... what?"
I smiled and stood up, slowly, so he could see all the muscles I had gained. I was taller, too, taller than Jerry even.
"But tell me, do you like what you see?" My cock was throbbing like mad now. God, I needed to have this man!
"Uuuh... uhm... yes? Yes."
I chuckled. "Well, Jerry. I don't know how to get back to my original body yet, but do you want to... touch this one?" I gently took his hand and placed it on my chest.
Jerry didn't react at first, but then he started caressing my chest. It felt great, and he moaned, too.
Another small spurt of precum spilled into my underwear and again, Keith acted up. It was even weaker this time, and I had no trouble staying in control. I did notice something else though. Apparently, Keith was enjoying this a lot, way more than a straight man should. He was almost addicted to my cock fluids by now, and he mentally lapped at my organ submissively. And he exhibited a longing for Jerry that appeared to be too deep-rooted to have developed recently. Well, good for him, because as my jockstrap, he would have a front row seat in what happened next.
"Mathilda, is it really... okay?" Jerry asked, barely being able to restrain himself.
"Yes Jerry." I said while looking into his eyes. "It's more than okay. It's perfect. And it's Matthew from now on, okay?"
I took a deep breath, breathing in my wonderful musky smell, and I watched Jerry do the same. And when I kissed him, I couldn't wait to tear his clothes off and plow his cute little ass with my mighty cock while my lucky jockstrap was watching.
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0cta9on · 2 months
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FFF2+4
length: +2k words
Genre: Smut
Le Sserafim Sakura x Male Reader
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【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★
Your hand lazily inserts the key into your apartment and unlocks the door. You want to slam it behind you in anger, but you’re too tired to even manage that. Working at the convenience store was supposed to be easy, just a little side hustle you can do to make some cash while you go through school. However, you failed to anticipate the long and arduous days of being yelled at by customers over things you have no power over, all for minimum wage. Your piece of shit manager doesn’t make things easier as all she does is sit on her phone while you’re the one that has to run around like a dog just to maintain the store. With a heavy sigh, you collapse face-first into the couch, just barely fighting the urge to suffocate in between the cushions and end your suffering once and for all.
“You good?”
You turn your attention to your roommate Sakura, who’s sitting on the floor, immersed in a fighting game on the TV. Sakura seldom talks and has a bit of an unnerving air about her, but she always kept the common areas clean and upheld her side of the chores so you considered her to be the perfect roommate in your book. You’ve managed to warm up to each other a little bit over the years, yet she always remained as sort of an enigma to you. You rarely talked due to always being busy with work or school, but whenever you did see her, she was always playing some kind of video game. Supposedly she makes money from streaming herself playing these games to thousands of people. You didn’t really understand, but you didn’t really need to anyway.
Your body slides off the couch onto the floor next to her, your eyes glazing over the flashing colors on the screen. “I’m fine,” you utter. “What are you playing?”
“Tekken 8,” she answers, her eyes never leaving the screen. “You wanna play?”
“I think I’ll stick to watching you.” Video games were never really your thing, but you could admire how skillful Sakura looked with the way her slender fingers quickly pressed the right buttons at the right time, her eyes glaring with focus. The blue light of the TV reflects off of her pale skin, making her look ethereal despite wearing a simple crop top and a pale blue tracksuit. Since when did Sakura look so attractive?
Before you knew it, you were suddenly face to face with the back of Sakura’s blonde head, your legs splayed out on either side of her. She was too focused on the game to notice you pressing up against her, which you took as a sign to take things further. Maybe it was the exhaustion and the stress seeping its way into your brain, but you needed some kind of release and Sakura just happened to be at the right place at the right time. 
Your hands slowly snake their way up her toned abs, grazing her soft skin with your fingertips and stopping at the hem of her top. Sakura hasn’t made any move to stop you, you wonder if she even noticed you at all. You lift up her top, pleasantly surprised to see her wearing no bra underneath. Her breasts are the perfect size and shape to fit into the palms of your hands, soft yet firm like a stress ball. With each gentle squeeze, all the stress you procured over the day begins to drain from your body, and your erection starts to strain against your pants, pressing into Sakura’s lower back. Lust takes over your body as your breath gets heavier and your heart pounds in your chest. Your lips latch onto the back of her exposed neck, kissing and licking her porcelain skin.
“You’re gonna make me lose,” she says, her voice monotone. You momentarily pause to chuckle at her nonchalance. Her body was being ravished by her roommate, yet all she cared about was winning her little game. You found it oddly cute in a weird way.
“Sorry,” you chuckle, punctuating your sentence with a kiss on her neck. “How about this? If you win while I play with your body, I’ll give you $10.”
“Make it $20 and I’ll let you fuck me afterward.”
“Deal.” Almost immediately, your hand lunges into the waistband of her pants while your other hand pinches Sakura’s nipples. To your surprise, her panties had a sizable wet spot on them - despite her lack of a reaction, she was way into this. As you apply pressure against the wet spot, you hear her breath hitch in her throat, her body shivering upon contact. You had her right where you wanted her.
As much as you would love to take your time to make her feel good, you also didn’t want to easily give up the $20 you worked so hard for. You move her panties to the side to give you easier access to the honey pot lying underneath. Her lips were already coated in her slick juices as you teased her hole with your digits. A small groan escapes her mouth right as she wins the first round with a sliver of health left.
“Ooooh, that was a close one, Kkura,” you tease, chuckling into her ear. “Maybe this’ll be easier than I thought.”
Sakura stays quiet, her focus on the game unwavering. Right as the second round starts, you shove two fingers deep inside her hot, velvety core, eliciting a cute moan from the Japanese girl. The slickness of her arousal coats your fingers, allowing you to thrust in and out of her with ease. The texture of her inner walls is like silk wrapped around steel - soft and smooth, yet firm and unyielding. You watch with enjoyment as Sakura slowly becomes undone. Lustful moans continued to escape her lips, and her fingers began to spaz out with each thrust of your hand, causing her character to lose health. Her grip on the controller tightened with frustration but quickly dissipates as you continue to finger her pussy. Miraculously, she somehow managed to win the second round, albeit with a smaller margin than before.
“Hmm, I guess I should start trying now, huh?” You quicken the pace of your hand while your thumb rubs against her clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through Sakura’s body. Her breathy moans fill the air as she tries desperately to ignore the lust threatening to take over her body. The walls of her pussy tighten around your fingers as she grows closer to her orgasm, her hips rocking subtly with each thrust, inadvertently rubbing her butt against your erection. Your breath grew heavy with excitement, but you didn’t want to end the fun just yet. Right when you think she’s about to cum, you remove your hand from her heat, denying her the satisfaction of a release. Sakura turns to you with a fire in her eyes, causing her to lose her first round.
You chuckle in her face. “What’s with that look?” you ask, taunting her with a sly smirk. From all your years of knowing her, this is the most emotion you have ever seen her display. You couldn’t help but find it cute how much she wanted to cum.
“Whatever…” She grumbles in annoyance before turning back to the screen. You place a gentle kiss on the back of her neck, a symbol of your apology. However, you aren’t apologizing for not taking her all the way. In fact, this is an apology made in advance - you’re about to make things so much more difficult for her.
Instead of pulling the trigger and assaulting her wetness like she wants you to, you decide to tease her by gently rubbing your fingers over the cloth of her crotch, applying just enough pressure for her to feel it but not enough for her to get off. Your other hand traces gentle circles on her breasts, tickling her skin with your fingernails. Sakura lets out a huff of irritation. She so badly wanted to feel your fingers inside of her, but unfortunately for her, her pride was stronger than her lust, and throwing the game for her own pleasure was just not a viable option. Her sexual frustration gets the better of her and the poor girl ends up losing the round in a complete stomp, leaving just one more round to decide whether or not you would be out $20.
“Ugh…” She groans while pinching the bridge of her nose.
“What’s the matter? Just one more win and you get $20, easy as pie,” you say, smirking mischievously. Sakura simply shrugged it off, putting all her attention into the game, but little did she know how dirty you planned on playing the final round.
Right as the in-game announcer starts the final round, you push Sakura forward so that she’s now on all fours, her perfect ass in the air. Despite the compromising change in position, she kept her grip on her controller and her focus on winning. You didn’t let her stay comfortable for long as you grabbed the waistband of her velvet sweatpants and pulled it down along with her panties, exposing her plump cheeks in one fell swoop. Her pussy stains her thighs with her sweet nectar, ready for you to ravish her hole. All your patience is about to pay off as you free your erection from its prison, lining it up with Sakura’s core. With one thrust, you completely bottom out inside of her, causing a high-pitched moan to come out of her mouth. Your fingers sink into the plush flesh of her hips, pulling her towards you with each thrust. The sight of her modest yet plump ass vibrating with an audible slap of skin against skin is worth way more than $20, yet here you are, enjoying it all for free. Sakura’s pussy squeezes your cock with her slick walls, her climax quickly approaching thanks to the work of your fingers earlier.  At this point, your roommate was a complete mess in front of you, dropping her controller and letting her opponent knock out her character without any fight. Right as the big red “DEFEAT” pops up on the screen, Sakura lets out a long moan, announcing her orgasm. You hold her hips down on the base of your cock as her body shakes with pleasure, her juices spilling down your legs and staining your work pants.
Sakura collapses onto the ground as you pull out of her, giving you a moment to catch your breath. As much as you would love to dump your entire load into her pretty pussy, you decide to show her mercy in this instance. Games aren’t fun if you win them right away.
Slowly, Sakura props herself up. Her chest rises and falls with each heavy breath and you can’t help but become mesmerized by her breasts. In turn, she stares at your dick, still glistening with her nectar. She discards her disheveled clothing, and like a kitten stalking its prey, she crawls towards you with unblinking eyes. Normally, her face void of emotion would be hard to read, but at this moment, you knew exactly what she was thinking. Her lips hungrily latch onto yours as she straddles your lap, grasping onto your cock to line it up with her dripping cunt. Your hands automatically gravitate towards her hips as you pull her down onto your lap, forcing her to take all of you at once. Sakura groans into your mouth, wrapping her arms around your head and pulling you deeper into the sloppy kiss. 
As she bounces on your dick, you completely forget about all the shit you faced at work. Hell, you would gladly work at the shit hole if it meant getting to fuck your cute roommate every day. The thought gets you more excited as you meet Sakura’s hips with thrusts of your own, simultaneously breaking the kiss to suckle on her perfect bouncing tits. Her shrill moans and the slaps of your skin against hers fill your ears, driving you closer to the edge.
“S-Sakura… I’m about to c-cum…” You warn her, breathless.
“I-inside… C-cum inside me…”
With your grip tightened on her waist, you slam her down onto your cock, forcing your entire length inside as you shoot ropes of your semen into her cunt. Sakura meets your orgasm with one of her own, her pussy pulsating and milking your cock. Her body collapses onto you as both of you catch your breath.
“Well, that was something,” you say to fill the empty space. Sakura answers with a hot shaky breath against your neck. Five minutes pass before her breathing finally comes back to normal. “Soooo… Same time tomorrow?” You ask, half-jokingly. Sakura gets up from your neck with the same blank expression as always. 
“Don’t keep me waiting.”
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dsybouquet · 5 months
Text
.. so what if u actually texted ceo! ellie ?
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(read how it started here !<3)
you only left the bar after all chairs have been put up the floor was mopped cleanly and all customers have been (more or less) kicked out. your leather jacket covered the short work clothes you wore as you walk through the dark streets.
you for sure were freezing, but your home isn’t all too far. the empty streets where some what soothing. it was peaceful and quiet with only a couple of cars passing by.
when you entered your apartment, you dropped your little bag to the ground and took off your shoes. of course you had a long day ahead at uni and you knew for sure that if you don’t fall asleep right away, you will simply ignore 99% percent of your lectures. why, out of all mayors, did you choose psychology?
quietly, you dropped onto your couch and turned on the tv. with family guy playing in the background, you mindlessly scrolled though your social media accounts - despite you knowing that being sleep deprived will literally be the death of you.
all of the sudden you thoughts started to run. why did that ellie woman have such a chokehold on you? it’s not like you didn’t have plenty of people right on your doorstep. being a young barkeeper already arranged you all types of things and plenty of numbers.
but something about was different. she was so.. different.
or maybe it was just you being delusional about a woman a bit too beautiful. or maybe it was her flirty behaviour that made you nearly lose your mind.
either way she was all you thought about, and you only knew her for a couple of hours. you threw your phone aside covering you face with your hands.
“get a hold on yourself, ______.”
you told yourself. you were so delusional.
ellie was probably just a woman with too much money that went around and tried to be some what kind. but why was she being so.. gentle?
calling you a pretty girl and dear..
god you were losing your mind over her.
your eyes landed on your phone. the bill with her number on still plugged into your see-through case.
maybe you could try your luck..
・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.
“are you kidding me?”
ellie exclaimed when she entered her office the next morning and found one of her managers sitting in front of her.
“jesse, what the fuck?!”
she took off her coat and put it on her hanger.
“calm down.”
jessie tried to help ellie contain her anger, but the young woman was about to snap.
she woke up late, she was still tired, spilled her coffee on her way to her car and was stuck in traffic. and now jesse is trying to tell her that one of his agents fucked up with one of her most important clients? leaked confidential data?
she was not having it.
“calm down ? oh i am calm, jesse.”
ellie pulled a cigarette out of her pockets and light it up. she knew the consequences, the visits with her lawyer. and she knew she had to kick this agent out. slowly, she blew out the smoke of her cigarette.
“action plan, now.”
jesse lifted his hands up in air, trying to defend himself.
“kick h-“
“exactly. i will remove all his accesses. i will call our lawyer and he needs to someone, and i don’t care who but i’d prefer authorities, to check all of his private devices for internal information.”
while she was talking, she unlocked her computer and got onto work. ellie exhaled the smoke of her cigarette and looked at jesse.
the man in front of her sighed. jesse was sad to let this agent go, but after all he will be heavily impacted either way.
“what are you waiting for?”
“aye. see you for a coffee later?”
though ellie was his supervisor, they still were sort of friends.
ellie just scoffed - which in her being stressed language basically meant “yeah. now piss off.” - and waved goodbye before putting herself onto it.
hours and hours passed by, phone calls with her lawyer, phone calls with the client, phone calls with authorities - she was so sick of it by now.
leaning back in her overly comfortable office chair, she turned it to the window. she may be owner of one of the most important business on the market right now, but she’ll never get over the view of her top floor office.
she sighed and took it in, watching the sun slowly set. the buzz off her phone ripped her out of her thought.
a unknown number ? texted her ? did this idiot agent now got a hold of her number and is threatening her ?
ellie was quick with unlocking her phone only to see..
‘hey ! it’s your bartender from yesterday !’
she almost couldn’t believe that you actually texted her. after all she was a complete stranger. but then again - you were a university student working in a kind of run down bar.
anyways, she still remembered your name and saved your contact - and good lord she was quick with texting you back.
and good lord you texted back and forth for long, ellie didn’t notice that the sun was down by now.
she should leave the office and probably go back to her penthouse apartment and get some sleep.
damn it, why did you have to text her that you’re still in your universities library studying for your upcoming exam.
and why did she have the urge to pick you up and take you out for dinner ? what was it about you?
usually, ellie picks easy-to-get girls. a quick one night stand with not a lot of talking, maybe giving them a lift home in her bentley - if she was being nice.
she didn’t even know why she wanted to treat you better.
before ellie knew she was sitting in her white bentley, on her way to pick you up.
and you didn’t even realise she was actually doing it until you saw her. until you saw the woman exiting her beast of a car.
your eyes got so wide when you saw her with that sleek black coat, white turtle neck and black suit pants. she looked so good.
„hello beautiful.“
ellie smilingly said before opening the car door on the passenger side door for you to enter. you hesitated for a second, being kind of overwhelmed to get picked up from university like this.
however, you greeted her back and entered her car.
„getting shy now?“
she joked, starting the engine and pulling out of the study property. her smile was wide when she looked at you.
„no. i‘m just not used to getting picked up with this kind of service.“
ellie smirked. she knew her cars and her money was impressive. after all, it is exactly what most girls are after so she stopped bothering. she had it, so why not make good use of it?
„wanna go grab a coffee? i know a nice cafe around here.“
she suggested, already driving in the direction before you could answer.
obviously you agreed with the idea. spending hours studying and beating up your brain made you deep fried and having coffee with a stunning woman like she is exactly what you need.
her car stopped in front of an overly fancy building. for a second you thought she took you too a designer shop if some sort, but when you glanced out the window it was an actual cafe.
you felt out of place looking at the business men inside. with your hoodie and skirt. basic university fit - comfortable and chill.
ellie looked at you, noticing the slight uneasiness in your body language and look.
"don't worry, you'll be fine, dear."
you exited the car and entered the fancy cafe. chandeliers hanging from the top, covered in golden paint. the walls were painted in a a dark green shade.
it seemed so royal.
apparently ellie was a regular there. the waiter already knew her and greeted her with her name before leading the two of you to a place a bit away from the other people.
"what do you want ?"
she asked after you received the menu. all types of coffees, teas and cakes where listed on it, with prices far beyond your imagination
"a simple cappuccino."
ellie nooded, smiling and passing the order to the waiter, along with ordering a latte for herself.
"don't worry, it's on me."
you smiled and thanked her. when she told you she'd pick you up, you expected everything but not.. this. you'd be happy with getting some takeaway coffee from a local bakery. apparently ellie wasn't.
the coffee came anfd you carried on with you conversation. talking about your interestes, hobbies - everything but not work and uni.
suddenly, her phone rang. it was ellies lawyer.
"excuse me, love. i have to answer this call. i will be right back."
she got up and walked out of the front, looking kind of nervous.
you watched her pass by the window, walking back and forth. her expression changed from anxious and nervous to furious. sipping your coffee, you tried to figure out what was going on but eventually dropped it.
after a while she returned, sitting down again.
"i'm so sorry, but i will have to go back to the office. it's quite urgent."
she emptied her latte and waited for you to finish just as well.
"don't worry, ellie. i get it !"
with an apologising smile, she payed the bill for you two and left the cafe with you by her side.
"may i still drive you home? it'll start to snow soon and i rather have you safe inside before you have to walk and freeze."
a smile painted on your face. to be exact, you weren't used to this kind of princess treatment. but you didn't want to be a burden.
"it's okay, really. i don't want to take more of your time."
"no really, i want to do this."
eventually, you gave in and agreed. the second ellie started the engine, snowflakes started falling from the sky.
„see ? it‘s good than i‘m giving you a lift!“
you quickly typed your adress into her navigation system anf let her drive off. 80s rock music played from her radio as she drove to your home. you enjoyed every second - even tho it was silent between the two of you. both of you enjoyed it.
ellie placed her hand on your thigh and had her other one on her steering wheel. you glanced over. she looked ethereal. her green eyes pierced the snowy streets and her head slowly bopped to the music playing.
a beam of light from the warm streetlights illuminated her face whenever she drove past them and you felt like you‘re in some weird fifty shades of grey fanfiction.
she stopped right in front of your apartment building, glancing over at you.
„i‘m sorry, really.“
„don‘t worry.“
a bright smile was painted onto your face, causing ellies stomach to almost drop. you were such a sunshine on a snowy evening like this. before you could exit your car, she got out, opening the door for you.
„thank you, ma‘am.“
you said and took the hand she help out for you to help you get out. did you need these type of gestures? no, but you certainly enjoyed it. you never were treated this nicely.
she even went to the door with you, watching you unlook it.
„drive safe okay? snowy streets are dangerous.“
the concern in your voice and the worrying look of your eyes almost caused ellie to get a heartattack.
„and thank you. for this afternoon and the coffee, i enjoyed it a lot.“
you added and ellie nodded.
and she did something she never thought she would do - she opened her arms to give you a hug. and you accepted it.
it was a overly long hug and it was so comfortable. you took in her scent, the smell if her very intense and expensive perfume and the warmth of her body.
„i‘ll text you, pretty girl.“
she said, still holding you there. ellie didn’t even want to let go, but eventually had to.
before you went inside, she eyed you again. so pretty even tho you looked tired and wore a normal, casual outfit. you probably were the prettiest girl she ever saw.
„please do. would love to see you again.“
ellie smiled before adding a simple:
„trust me, you will.“
and watching you go inside with a ‚goodbye‘.
and she didn’t know yet that if she would fall for you, she’d fell hard and could never get up again.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
there we go !! thank you for your endless support on what i suppose is part 1 - which was just a brain rot of mine haha. i hope you enjoyed it!
let me know if you want me to keep this going ! xx
update: here goes part 3!
people asking to be tagged:
@harrysslutsstuff @vwonnie @mikaaj
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msgexymunson · 1 year
Text
Rumour Part Two: Rose
Description: After hooking up with your hot neighbour, things aren't going as you had hoped. Maybe a note will turn it around for the both of you...
Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI or I'll put you in detention, Angsty angst, but fluffy, and HELLA SMUT. Sub!fem!younger!reader x older!pierced!dom!eddie, (age gap not problematic) rough sex, oral fem receiving, praise kink, sir kink, pet names
A/N: Please read part 1 first! I'm totally feral for this version of Eddie and apparently you lot are too! Thank you for all your love and support, I really hope you enjoy this!
❤ Reblogs are what keep me alive FR. They keep Tumblr alive. If you want more smut reblog my stuff. I'll love you forever, promise.❤
4.6k words
Masterlist   Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
Marching home from the bar, arms crossed as a barrier against the chilly air, you huff into the night, sending out a cloud of steamy breath. Your mood at work tonight was frankly diabolical. If you were your own manager you probably would have fired yourself. Dropping glasses, snapping at customers, drifting into day dreams, you were a mess. In the end your boss told you to go home, that your head was clearly not in the game tonight; thankfully treating you better than you would have treated yourself.
Nearing the corner of your street, you stomp along, thinking about the man you couldn't get out of your head for the past six days. The man you were trying to push from your mind unsuccessfully. The man that didn't call. Eddie Munson.
After an evening of frankly mind blowing sex, he took you out on a lunch date. You ate nice food, shared a bottle of wine, and spoke about your interests. You discovered a mutual love for art, and a similar taste in music. He was soft, chatty, funny. Afterwards you had gone for a walk around the park, even held hands. For a moment you really thought you had started to connect with him. Then he'd dropped you back home, told you he was a bit busy for the next couple of days, kissed you on the cheek and disappeared into the wind.
It would have hurt less if he had just left after that night, but the date seemed to go well. The only explanation in your eyes was that he couldn't have liked you after getting to know you. The thought stabbed ice through your heart.
As you approach your building, you see a familiar figure sitting down smoking. You still your movements, trying to collect your feelings and push them down deep inside. Taking a deep breath, you slip on the blankest look you can muster and march straight to your door.
"Hey pretty girl."
No matter how much you try to mask, that gruff voice and those words just do something to you.
"Hey." You throw back, not bothering to look in his direction. You hear the creak of leather as he gets up. Desperately trying to get your keys out of your pocket, you end up dropping them on the floor. Well done. Smooth.
Eddie's closed the distance between you, reaching down to swipe the keys into a large hand. He looms over you, standing close, inches from your shaking form. The atmosphere is stifling, tension in the air laced with your anger.
"Can I have my keys please." Your gaze firmly locked away from him.
Eddie hands them over, but grabs your small hand in his when you try to pull away.
"Can you look at me, sweet thing?" His other hand reaches for your chin to pull your gaze towards him, rough fingers coaxing you. Struggling to resist him when he's in the very air you breathe, you let your eyes meet his.
"Hey, I'm sorry if I upset you, I've just been-"
"-really busy? Yeah." Your tone has venom, it coats each word, leaving your mouth with a bitter taste.
"Look I'm sorry, do you wanna-"
"I've got to go Eddie. I'm super busy." You snatch you hand away from his and take your front door key, jamming it into the lock. Eddie steps back, arms up, giving you space. It takes everything you have not to turn around when you slam the door behind you.
You lean against the door, shaking, biting back the tears that are begging to roll down your cheeks. Hot and flustered, you do your best to calm down and just breathe. You slide your back down the door and sit on the floor with your head in your hands. This is stupid.
Maybe you should have let him explain. What explanation could there be though, after he made you feel like that, then disappeared into the mist?
Lifting your head weakly, you notice a piece of paper folded in half on the welcome mat, seemingly shoved under your door. Curious, you pick it up and open it. It's from him.
Underneath the hastily scrawled note is the most beautiful pencil drawing of a rose you think you've ever seen. It almost looks like you could pluck it off the paper. The detail is simply breath taking; there's even shining dew drops on the velvety looking petals. You're half expecting a floral sweet scent to roll off of it.
Hey sweet thing, sorry I've not called. You must be at work. Knock when you get this.
E.M x
p.s. You said you like roses, I drew this for you.
Your hand flies to your mouth, shocked at the sheer beauty and intricacy of it. What's more, is that you're not even sure you remember when you told him roses were your favourite flower. It can't have been recently.
Shame drips down your throat and into your gut at how you'd greeted him earlier. Determined to resolve this before it goes any further you stand up and make your way back outside. Eddie's chair is empty. Taking a deep breath, you steel your nerves, walk across the courtyard and knock on his door.
It swings open a crack, and then all the way. Eddie stands in the doorway shirtless, tattoos strewn across his chest, messy hair loose and wild. His sweat pants are hanging low on his hips, cut groin and hip bones on display, his dark thatch of hair leading down drawing your eye. You take a shaky breath in; realising you're staring, your eyes snap up to meet his.
He looks from your face, down to your hand still gripping his drawing.
"So, you got my note huh." Flashing you a small smile.
Throwing your arms around his neck you kiss him hard. He staggers, taken aback by the gesture, but only for a moment. Then his hand is on your lower back, the other in your hair, as his tongue flicks across your bottom lip begging. You submit, his probing tongue dipping deep into your mouth, saying everything his note did not. You feel the steel of his piercing rub against your tongue, massaging in the kiss. Pressing up against him it's impossible to ignore the growing bulge in his sweat pants forced against your beating core.
You both break from the kiss, eyes seeking each others.
"I'm sorry-"
You laugh, speaking in unison. He presses hot, hard kisses to your lips, tongue running down your neck, beginning to bite and suck. Moaning, your nails dig into his back.
Eddie breaks away from you, leaving you pouting, neck stretching towards his perfect mouth, chasing the feeling.
"Listen, as much as this is incredible, can I talk to you?"
Taking gasping breaths you try and steady yourself.
"Yeah, sure." Still focusing on pacifying your breathing.
He takes your arm and leads you inside, gesturing to the couch. Taking a seat you glance around the room. It's a mess; not exactly dirty but there's things everywhere. Several guitars and amps lean haphazardly on the walls. A tower of books threatens to spill over the side of the coffee table. A few empty beer bottles sit in various states on the counter top. There's a desk, covered in writing and drawing implements, more books open around paper pads, you assume for reference purposes. You don't see many photographs around which seems strange to you. The only framed picture on the wall is a younger Eddie with an older man, balding in a checked shirt, maybe his father? There's another frame on the window ledge which you can't make out much detail from, looks like a crowd of teenage boys.
Eddie sits beside you, hand resting on your knee. When he speaks his voice is brimming with emotion, something you're entirely unready for.
"Listen, I just wanted to explain. I really like you. It's just," he pauses, staring at the corner of the room, lips pressed together, "I'm not used to this. Any of this. I'm not exactly seen as boyfriend material, you know?" He laughs softly at that, eyes seeking yours. You nudge him with your hand, willing him to continue, fingers tracing encouraging circles on his thigh.
"People see me as a one and dump. I've gotten used to it, not many wanted me my whole damn life. Meeting you, and getting along, outside of sex, I just- I was scared."
His doe eyes meet yours and you melt. The strong, confident man has melted away, exposing the soft, tender boy in front of you.
Clambering onto his lap, you stroke his stubbly cheek.
"I don't see you like that." Locking eyes for a second, you lean in to press a soft kiss to his full lips. His eyes close, kissing you back gently, mouths moving in sync. His hands stroke delicately down your sides, so much so that you twitch.
"Sorry, that tickles," you breathe out, wiggling away from his attention.
"Oh, ticklish eh?" He grins deviously, fingers tracing agonising patterns in your sides.
You giggle, bucking out your hips, trying to escape from the feeling. Reaching out your own fingers you dig into his sides trying to get your own back.
"Oh sweet thing you're really in for it now!" Before you can understand what's happening you're on the floor, Eddie pinioning you to the carpet. Hands held above your head, his whole body weight is keeping you in place.
"OK you win, please sir let me go!" You tease.
Eddie's irises shrink back, pupils blown, predatory gaze roaming over your features.
"Oh now that's not fair pretty girl." He bends forward, large hand encompassing your wrists, kissing and suckling at your exposed flesh.
It takes a second, but then it hits you.
"Sir please."
Eddie groans into your neck; his hard length pressing forcefully into your core.
For confirmation, you cant help but play into it further.
"Oh please, please Sir, please let me go!" Smirking, bucking into the air.
The noise that leaves Eddie's throat is gravelly and animalistic, grinding into you with abandon, hand holding you tight by the wrists. Your giggles have transformed into moans, pulse travelling to your heat.
His hand roams from your wrists to pull your top over your head, exposing your bare chest. Eddie wastes no further time in licking down to your exposed breasts, tongue trailing to your nipples.
"I thought you were a good girl, sweet thing," and he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. The swirl of his thick tongue around your sensitive buds makes you wail, hips humping up to meet his. He sucks onto your exposed nipples hard, the feeling sending bolts of arousal through your chest, massing in your stomach.
"Please Eddie." All confidence stripped from you now that you're squirming beneath him, rough stubble from his chin abrading your delicate skin.
Unlatching from your chest he draws level with your face. The dark, steely glint in his eyes makes your cunt throb. His breath fans across your face; the smell of Eddie's skin permeating all of your senses.
"That's not what you called me before."
A rugged hand enwraps your neck, squeezing softly at the sides, almost a threat. The rough touch makes you whimper. He's not constricting your airway, just letting you know whose in charge. As if there was any doubt.
"Please sir."
His eyes close as he grunts, suddenly pulling off of you. He rips the fastenings of your jeans open with an unruliness that has your cunt clenching, attempting to drag them off your legs along with your underwear. Eddie realises too late you've still got your shoes on and you huff a laugh at his obvious frustration. The laugh dies in your throat however when he uses brute force to pull your trainers off your feet, ignoring the laces. You whine at the display of strength, arousal gripping you so tightly that you feel it in your bones.
Laying on the carpet fully nude under his powerful gaze, you attempt to shy away but Eddie stops you immediately with a simple wave of his hand. He rubs at your sides, taking a moment to stare at your naked form shamelessly. You don't think anyone has ever looked at you this way, with such need, wanting you this hard.
"You're really fuckin' beautiful, you know that?"
You flush at the attention, cheeks burning. His fingers smooth down to your slit, groaning when he feels how wet you are.
Without warning he flips you over, pulling a shocked yelp from you. Rough hands grab your hips, manhandling you exactly where he wants you, dragging your ass closer to him.
You jump slightly at the first contact of his swollen cock, feeling the rub of steel from his piercing drag back and forth over your folds collecting your slick.
"You ready sweet thing?"
"Mmm please-"
He starts pushing into you and you gasp; you'd nearly forgotten how big he was. The push into you continues, his girth making you bite your lip, dragging against your slick walls. He wholly sheathes himself in you and you stretch around him, filling you completely; heart, soul and cunt, belonging to him.
Eddie's warm, firm hand strokes down your spine, coming to rest on your hip, thumbs rubbing into the doughy flesh, fingers gripping possessively.
He bends over you, messy hair trailing tickles on your shoulder, gruff whisper in your ear.
"You ok sweet thing?"
Your cunt is already twitching, zaps of pleasure dancing through your insides at each flutter of your walls.
Breathlessly you manage "yes, please, fuck me sir."
Eddie growls "fuck."
He ploughs into you, setting a gut-wrenching pace, slick sex sounds slapping through the apartment. Your arm grazes the coffee table and a pile of books tumbles down. You see a flash of a dragon on the cover of one. The carpet digs into your palms and knees.
"Fuckin' hell sweets, so tight, fuck."
A flash flood of passion flows through you, expunging any discomfort at his size.
Brutal moans blossom from deep in your chest, long and drawn out, shaking in pitch from each thrust of Eddie's hips. You feel Eddie's hard member persistently hitting deep inside, hard ball of metal from his dick piercing amplifying every move. Your high hits you quickly and without warning, a lightning bolt of pleasure rocketing out of the pit of your stomach, shocking through your entire body. A tsunami of slick arousal rushing from your cunt, nearly pushing out his sizable length from sheer force.
Eddie's groans are guttural, bestial in nature. He roughly pulls you bodily towards him until your back is flush with his sweating heaving chest, pecs flexing. One hand remains digging into your hip continuing his forceful pace, other hand pulling up to your chin, holding your head firmly in place whilst he babbles filth in your ear, making your walls tremble around him.
"Fuck, calling me sir. My good girl's dirty isn't she? My good filthy girl, fuckin' soaking me. Yeah? Pretty little cunt soaking me, oh fuck-"
His thrusts flounder briefly, his climax hitting him harshly, coming deep inside you with a brutish grunt.
Both of his arms wrap around your form, sweating bodies impossibly close, panting, coming back down to earth together. Smooth lips and rough stubble press against your cheek.
You move to pull away from him and the pain in your knees hits you suddenly, buckling to the floor with a rush of air from your lungs. Laying on the floor, boneless and weak, but giggling.
"Shit you ok sweets?" Eddie hovers over your chuckling body.
"Yeah, just my knees are fucked."
"Sorry, probably should have taken you to the bedroom huh." He looks embarrassed, hand stroking the back of his neck.
Scooping you up in his strong arms he places you on the sofa. He strides off, returning with a damp cloth. Tenderly cleaning your core, he moves his attention to your knees.
"How are they now?" Eyes wandering, examining, brimming with concern. The look makes you melt.
"Apart from wicked carpet burn, fine. I think I'll live" chuckling at your own words you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him towards you to deliver a sweet kiss. He pulls himself up to sit on the edge of the sofa and leans down over you, forehead pressed to yours.
"So, am I forgiven?" Smiling with that cocky look of his.
You pretend to think for a moment.
"I suppose. But don't do it again."
"Wouldn't dream of it pretty girl."
********************
It's a couple of weeks later and you're standing in the tattoo shop where Eddie works, marvelling at the artwork on the walls. You hear the incessant sound of a tattoo machine and some generic rock radio playing in the background, other artists busying themselves with their work.
"You sure about this sweet thing?"
"Yeah I'm sure," you say shyly back, nerves getting the best of you.
"Do you see anything you like? Those ones over there are mine, I've got my portfolio too if you wanna-"
"I've already got a design Eddie."
He frowns, clearly not wanting to create someone else's art on your skin. Your cheeks flush, and you pull a piece of paper out of your pocket and wordlessly hand it to him.
It's his note, the beautiful drawing of a rose almost hovering off the paper. The reason you're dating.
Eddie seems taken aback, staring at his drawing as if he were looking at it for the first time.
"Oh pretty girl, are you sure?"
"Yes I'm sure. Just like that please, it's perfect." You smile at him, your own eyes  betrayed your feelings, glossing over softly.
Smiling back at you, you gaze at each other for a moment.
Eddie coughs and looks away. "You want this in black and grey, or colour?"
"Hmm colour I think would be best."
"And where are we thinking?"
You point to next to your hip bone over your skirt, slightly lower. Eddie glances at the area and runs his tongue over his top lip, steel ball glinting.
"You know, that's a pretty sensitive area. Are you sure that's where you want it?"
You nod, eyes meeting his.
"Ok let's get upstairs, it's a bit more, private."
Leading you to the empty upstairs and across to his workstation, you're pleasantly surprised at how clean and tidy it is. You sit down in the big leather chair whilst Eddie sorts out the stencil and gets the inks ready.
"Ok so do you wanna just pull your skirt down a little or-"
You flip it up instead, given where you wanted it, it seems easier. Eddie's eyes are transfixed on your baby blue panties.
"Eddie..."
"Yeah, shit sorry, ok right here, yeah?" He traces a gloved finger where you pointed. You nod and he pulls the hem of your underwear slightly out of the way, kissing your hip bone.
He preps the area, lays the stencil down and turns the tattoo machine on. The noise buzzes through your jangling nerves making you tense up involuntarily. Eddie strokes your thigh, firm hand coming to rest.
"You gotta relax, my good girl, or its gonna hurt more."
You huff a laugh at the familiar phrase.
"Hmm I think you've said that before, about something else."
Eddie's eyes sparkle impishly at the memory. "Well I was right, wasn't I?"
He leans over to your face, turning the machine off for a second, and whispers, "are you gonna be a good girl for me?"
"Eddie, I- fuck, don't do that in public!"
He laughs wickedly, flicking the machine back on.
"Just stay still sweet thing, I'm starting now, 'kay?"
When the needle finally hits your flesh you're pleasantly surprised. Oh it hurts, certainly, but not as much as the buzzing made you think it would. It was more annoying than anything, a persistent scratch.
"You good sweets?"
"Yeah that's fine."
He leans over you, using his left hand to steady himself high up on your thigh. Heat is pouring off him, the grip of his fingers occasionally making you want to squirm. You're sure you're getting wetter by the second just by being in close proximity to him. There's something about him concentrating the way he was, entirely oblivious to the world and in his element, that made your heart swell.
Each word of encouragement from him, each check in was making your cunt throb, pulse in your core threatening to make you twitch under him.
"Sitting so still, doing so good for me."
"Atta girl, you taking the pain ok?"
"My sweet thing, doing such a great job."
When the outline is complete, he turns off the machine to check in yet again and you feel like you're ready to explode into a horny mist.
"Sitting so well for me pretty girl. Do you need a break?"
"No I'm good," you manage breathily. His eyebrows raise, taking in your flushed cheeks and wide glassy eyes.
'Are you enjoying this sweets?" Smirking, his eyes flit from your face to your baby blue underwear, smiling wider when he eyes the growing wet patch.
"I don't know, it's just, you're really close to, you know, there," you gesture downwards, flushing even further, "but you're not touching me and you keep praising me and-"
"Well you're taking it so well, being such a good girl for me, I've got to let you know right?" He bites his lip, flashing his teeth deviously.
"Eddie" You squirm in your seat, heat of his gaze too much to take. To your surprise, embarrassed, hot tears are starting to form in your eyes, unable to process so much praise and feeling all at once.
"Shush shush, poor sweet girl, don't cry. We've got the shading to do and then I'll reward you." He winks.
You nod dumbly, wiping tears from your eyes; a subby mess on his words alone.
Eddie gets to work on the colouring and shading, constant praises falling from his perfect lips.
You space out, endless accolades making your head fuzzy, taking you away from the perpetual pain. Little by little the background noises disappear, the radio downstairs switches off and the shop sounds empty.
You hear a disembodied voice from the vicinity of the doorway.
"Eds, I'm leaving now, lock up when you're done!"
"No worries bud!" Eddie shouts back, continuing to focus on the red of the rose.
Pain starts to mount again, relentless rasping of the needle starting to take its toll. You wince, doing your best not to tense. Eddie switches to white for the highlights and you hiss at the touch of the needle.
"Ok pretty girl, I know, nearly done I promise."
You nod, hands balled into little fists.
Finally after what seems like an age of little touch ups Eddie declares he is finished. He helps you up onto wobbly legs whilst you hold your skirt up awkwardly and waddle over to the mirror.
Gawping at your new ink, you gasp in astonishment. It's as if he'd plucked a rose at dawn, sprinkled with morning dew, and laid it carefully on your hip.
"Eddie, its perfect, it's incredible, honestly. Thank you." You can barely believe its real. Turning to Eddie you give him a kiss on his lips, soft and lingering.
"No problem pretty girl. Lay back down lemme wrap it for you."
Hopping back onto the leather chair, you lay back on your elbows, watching him cover your new tattoo with plastic wrap and surgical tape.
"Thank you again, I love it. Shall we go?"
"Oh sweet thing, you're not going anywhere."
You look at him in confusion. He takes his gloves off, hungry eyes transfixed on your heat.
"I've sat here, inches away from this pretty pussy, looking at this cute little wet patch and I can't take it anymore. I can fuckin' smell you sweetheart, it's not fair."
A flush blooms over the apples of your cheeks, thighs clenching at his filthy words.
"Scoot down for me."
You wiggle your hips until you're at the edge of the reclined seat, skirt bunching up in the process. Eddie kneels before you and peels your underwear off, carefully avoiding your new ink. He throws one of your legs over his shoulder, leaving the hip with the tattoo alone.
"Now I'm gonna be gentle and you can't move, ok? Don't want you smudging." He winks at his joke and starts pressing delicate kisses over your pussy, hot breath tickling you. His tongue pushes into your folds so slowly, running up and down with a languid place. You moan and shudder at the feeling, intensity magnified by how on edge you'd been, waiting for this for hours. Every agonisingly slow movement sent tingles to your core, warmth spreading to the tips of your toes.
High pitched mewls and whines fill the room when Eddie turns his attention to your clit, teasing it gently with his tongue stud, hard nub sending thrilling tendrils of pleasure deep inside you.
"Eddie, fuck that's so good." You whisper, eyes fluttering shut.
Eddie hums into you, continuing to make out lazily with your cunt, his own moans swallowed up by your heat.
Impossible, unimaginable feeling floods your system; it was as if every nerve was singing, blending together into a choir of pleasure. The intensity, the passion, the emotion he was conveying between your legs was pushing you to a precipice, looking down at your potential release from a dizzying height.
It was all too much. Tears fall down your soft cheeks, utterly caught up in so much feeling.
"Eddie, I can't, its, it's too much-"
Hot breath on your cunt, "it's ok, sweet thing, I've got you, let go."
He takes your clit in between his lips and kisses, and kisses, and kisses. Pressing his tongue to it one final time he suckles softly and pushes you over that edge.
Stars collide. Your release meanders through your very soul, ripping away any semblance of breath, clenching and coming with a silent cry, tears still falling. It flows, collects itself and continues, pleasure in perpetuity, leaving no part of you untouched by its warmth. The feeling finally dissipates, leaving you breathless, thoughtless.
You're not sure how long it took for you to return to yourself, but when you do Eddie's pressing the softest kisses to your cheek, lips, nose, even your eyelids. Your eyes flutter open, wet and glossy, and full of feeling for the man in front of you.
"Hey pretty girl."
"Hey baby." You smile softly.
He grins right back; its the first time you've called him a pet name.
"Stay at mine tonight?"
"I might have to, pretty sure that was the best orgasm I've ever had. I may need a wheelchair."
He laughs, cocky grin firmly in place. "I could carry you to the car if its that bad..."
"I'll manage I'm sure." You get up, wobbly as a baby deer but upright. He steadies you, strange look in his you're not used to.
"Eddie, can you pass me my underwear?"
"What underwear?" He's trying to pull a serious face but his mischievous eyes betray him.
"Eddie!" You hit him on the arm. He just laughs in response.
You huff, and smile, and squeal inside at the sheer joy of the moment.
Masterlist
❤ If you want to be added to my tag list please comment/reblog and say so sweet thing (tag list in comments as it's grown arms and legs) ❤
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I encourage lying to customers whenever you can get away with it (as long as it doesn’t throw your coworkers under the bus) and stealing from your job if you earn min wage. Putting an extra bag in the bin when we do wastage to catch the unopened food and leave it so I can take it home and either give it to my old coworkers for free at previous workplaces or give it to hungry people on the street (I don’t donate it to food banks because it’s usually not accepted if it’s going OOD same day and they’re closed when I finish work)
if you come in to a store 15 mins before closing we should be allowed to maim you in some way or at least call you a cunt. Sorry you have the time management skills of a fucking squirrel but no you don’t *need* a three shot latte with vanilla, two cortados, a brownie frappe and four paninis at 5pm. go fuck yourself I’m not joking
I work in a hospital and I only extend sensitivity and kindness to interns, doctors and nurses who are either just starting their 12 hour shift or finishing one when we close and yes they get freebies I won’t charge you for syrup if nobody is looking
customers who come up to where drinks are handed out and order there and then get pissy when I tell them to join the queue? electric chair
customers who spend all their time in the queue on their phones and then when I ask them what they want at the till and they act all flustered and laugh it off like hahahahahaha I am going to kill my self (my best friend literally had somebody hold their finger up to him when he asked what they wanted at the till because they were texting someone and I felt the rage from the other side of the room)
CUSTOMERS WHO WHEN YOU CALL OUT THEIR DRINK X3 ARE ON THE PHONE OR HAVING A CONVERSATION IGNORE OR DONT HEAR YOU SO YOU PUT THE DRINK DOWN AND. START A NEW ONE AND THEY PUSH IN WHEN YOURE TALKING TO ANOTHER CUSTOMER TO BE LIKE “IS THIS MY DRINK??? IM IN A RUSH OI OI” I WILL DESECRATE YOUR CORPSE
children who order their hot chocolate with a please and thank you mysteriously get two more extra marshmallows than they ordered I love you sweetie pies
children who scream and shout and knock over the reusable cups and don’t respond to their parents when they ask if they want marshmallows get put in the milk fridge and forgotten
customers who when I ask if they want a medium (standard) size respond with “yes” and then pause “the smallest you do” so I ask if they want a small instead and they go “hmmm no medium is fine” and then when I go past the point of being able to modify the order for some stupid fucking reason (not their fault not my fault only the fault of the company that doesn’t want to risk employees voiding off at will and losing them money) they change their mind “oh I’ll have a small actually teehee” I am,,,,, no words only angry
company that won’t give their employees free lunch or free coffee outside of the four standard core drinks (no syrups or alt milk except soy) but will do a “free iced drinks” promotion at the height of British summer with said understaffed underpaid and overworked employees die in a fire challenge
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mypoisonedvine · 8 months
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can I request a dark!(any of cillian murphy’s characters) who’s basically this spoiled entitled rich guy and he meets a waitress who puts him in his place for disrespecting her? so he decides to teach her a lesson
THE WAY THIS IS PERFECT FOR DARK!ROBERT FISCHER??? OH MY GOD??
warnings: DARK NONCON SMUT!! 18+ only, misogyny and classism, pretty extreme degradation, semi-public sex, hair pulling
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You weren't sure why that one interaction stuck in your head, it wasn't like you hadn't dealt with rude customers before: they're plentiful in a fancy place like this, only people wealthy enough to be used to getting whatever they wanted could afford to eat here.
Maybe it was just because you'd already noticed him from the first moment you came to the table, and not just because he looked a little out of place surrounded by the other businessmen... you thought he was gorgeous, obviously. Which made it even more disappointing when he was a huge tool, correcting your pronunciation of some of the menu items and then trying to summon you to the table with a few impatient snaps of his fingers. Not to mention calling you 'sweetheart' instead of your name-- classic sexist bullshit.
Or maybe you remembered him because of the rage when you stood up to him-- just for a second, you saw it in his eyes, before he let out a nervous and condescending laugh to try to break the tension. But even just that flash of anger in his stare made you regret speaking up. Normally, you didn't take shit from anyone and you didn't apologize for the feelings you hurt along the way... but that, his look right then, was everything people had been warning you about. It's one thing to stand up to someone, it's another to antagonize them.
It was enough to make you feel a little nervous when your shift ended that night. You'd watched the flock of stuffy suits leave after their meal, obviously not giving you a tip because of course they wouldn't, and yet you had this lingering feeling like you were being watched-- like you hadn't seen the last of that infuriated glare.
But, feeling like you were definitely overreacting, you resisted the urge to ask your manager to walk you to your car. It was late, of course, and you shivered a bit as the chilly night air made your thin cardigan feel pretty much useless.
Just as you unlocked your car, opening the backseat door to toss in your bag, you felt a hand cover your mouth as someone grabbed you. Your instinctive scream was muffled as you heard a harsh 'shh' by your ear, a heavy form pressing into yours.
You were pushed into the car, tossed roughly down over the backseats as the man's weight kept you pinned down, and you tried to struggle but found yourself quickly incapacitated by his strength.
"How fucking dare you," he spat right against your ear; and you recognized the voice, of course you did, it was burned into your mind already. "You rude little bitch..."
"Get off me," you growled, "you fucking asshole!"
"No, no," he purred, pinning your arms down when you tried to push him back, "not until you've learned your lesson. The way you spoke to me at dinner, I just can't let you get away with that."
"I-I'm sorry, okay?" you breathed, distressed by how easily he held your arms in place by his tight grip on your wrists; you felt him smile against your ear, a dark little chuckle making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. "I'm sorry-- I wasn't trying to be rude."
"Yes, you were, sweetheart," he disagreed, throwing the condescending name right at you again. "You were trying to, what, emasculate me? How's that working out for you?"
Honestly, you had been-- you always figured customers like that had it coming, and you'd relished in the chance to make him look like an idiot in front of presumably some very important people. "I'm sorry," you said again. "I was wrong. Please... please just get out and we can forget this ever happened."
You shuddered when his hand moved down to your skirt, rubbing your leg with a hum and slowly pushing up the fabric. "You were hoping for a big tip tonight, weren't you?" he chuckled. "I think I can still give you one."
"P-please," you choked out again, "Mr. Fischer, right? I'm sorry... just please don't--"
He covered your mouth again, grinning at you as he pulled the skirt up roughly and yanked your panties down, giving your ass a hard smack as you yelped behind the strong grip of his fingers. "Don't worry," he offered as he started to hastily open his fly with one hand, "I'm just going to remind you of your place. A whore like you will probably like it."
You shut your eyes tight, hearing him grunt as he adjusted himself to be right at your opening, teasing your hole with his head for just a moment before suddenly and forcefully shoving in. You screamed behind his hand, dropping your head defeatedly, and he groaned happily as he started to fuck you.
"That's it," he praised darkly, "just take it, honey."
Shuddering, you went limp under him, out of other options; you winced as his cock forced its way deep inside you, so deep that your back tried to arch up to avoid some of the intense pressure.
"Shh," he soothed, putting a hand on your back to keep it down, "that's better-- fuck, you little slut..."
He was speeding up already, and you still hadn't adjusted to his size. Clearly his shitty attitude wasn't compensating for anything, like you'd implied before-- and you choked on your moans of discomfort as he finally let go of your mouth. Only broken sighs came out, unfortunately, and in the corner of your eye you could see him staring down at you with a sneer.
"This is exactly what you deserve," he panted, "getting fucked like a cheap whore in this filthy car. I don't think I've ever been inside one of these things-- my god, is that a cassette player?! How old is this piece of shit?"
You groaned, amazed that he had the energy or focus to insult your car in a time like this-- you were just panting and holding tightly onto the beige fabric seats under you, hoping that someone, anyone, would see what was happening and stop him. God, if someone saw, they'd probably think this was a consensual thing, a kinky little public hookup-- but you couldn't just scream for help or something, you felt very confident that he would find a way to keep you silent.
He sighed as he buried his face in your neck, his hips moving faster-- needier, really. He was even moaning, squeezing your wrists again, acting oddly passionate as if this was something very different than what it was. "You could be pretty, you know," he mumbled to you, "if you smiled more-- and if you didn't do your makeup like a cheap whore. Well... I guess you can't help the cheap part."
"You could be pretty if you weren't a psychopath," you snapped back, making him chuckle proudly.
"Still got that fucking attitude," he noticed, "guess I haven't fucked it out of you yet. How about when you're dripping with my come? Then will you understand how you need to speak to your superiors?"
"Don't," you begged in a gasp, "please-- please don't--"
But he just growled and fucked you harder, making the whole car move with the force of his thrusts. "You fucking wanted me," he accused through his teeth, "didn't you? You wanted this. I could see it on your face, the second you looked at me-- you were imagining how well I'd wreck this little cunt."
You tried to shake your head, but he grabbed you by your hair and yanked your head back until you yelped out a sob.
"I'm close," he breathed, "gonna fucking fill you-- 'cause it's all your good for, sweetheart. Being a waitress isn't that fucking complicated, and you're still shit at that-- so how about you just embrace your natural talents, huh? How about you just take my fucking cock and say 'thank you'?"
"F-fuck you," you barely managed to rasp out, and he made sure to punish you for that by absolutely pounding into you for the last of it.
"Stupid fucking whore," he snarled between deep grunts, "f-fuck, you bitch--"
He moaned suddenly as he came, letting go of your hair and dropping you down onto the backseat again as he gave a few shallow, shaky thrusts; his grip was on your hips instead, keeping you still so he could go as deep as possible.
"Fuck," he sighed, panting to catch his breath; you blinked a haziness out of your eyes, hissing as he pulled out of you-- you were going to feel that sting tomorrow, if not longer.
He put his cock back in his trousers and zipped them up, getting out of the car and taking out his wallet.
"Here's a tip," he offered as he tossed a few bills at you, laughing as you widened your eyes at the realization that they were hundreds. "Start saving up for a new car. Or at least get this one cleaned... you're leaking my come all over the seats."
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dark-night-hero · 6 months
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Imagine as you walked into the grocery store, pushing the cart in one hand and the other holding on into the little boy you are to look after for the day, your phone rings causing you to look at the little guy before he gives a nod, letting go of your hand and holding on into the cart as the two of you pushes it forward as you grab your phone with your empty hand.
"What's the matter?" You spoke as soon as you answered the call from Shoko. "You with Megumi?" "Yeah, Gojo left him with me, he and his lover was sent into different mission and there was no one to look after him. Why did you call?" "Just checking up on you.."
Imagine in the middle of your call, you realize something was missing. Megumi is missing. Where is Megumi? "Hey, I got to go." "Alright. Take care... Suguru was last spotted in there, that's what I actually wanted to say." "..." Then the call ended and you took a dep breath. So what if Suguru was last spotted in here? What's important is that you LOST Megumi. You're fucked. Though it would be refreshing seeing Gojo's reaction over this. Such a same he was out on a mission you couldn't even call him.
Imagine, the funny thing is that in the process of making your way into the customer service, you spotted a child, a little girl in the corner looking lost and guarded up. Looking left and right, making sure that you had it right that she was lost as a couple of adults passed by her with a care. You decided to approach the child. "Hello little one, are you lost?" As you get down on your knees to be on the same level as her, she backed down a bit, looking at you with trembling almost scared gaze that was soon filled with familiarity? Curiosity. "...Yes." She utter as she kept looking at you. "Well do you mind coming with me? I'm looking for my child too, lets go to the customer service together and wait for your parents to come and get you, hmm? How about that?" "... Okay." "Oh, I forgot to ask but you don't have to answer if you feel uncomfortable. What's your name?" "Mimiko..." "You have a beautiful name." You said with a smile and tap her in the head before offering a hand.
Imagine by the time you manage to make it to the customer service, cart on one hand full of grocery bags while the other was holding on into Mimiko, you spotted a little boy with a bored look in his face. It was Megumi. "Oh goodness, Megumi. I'm glad you're safe." You said with a smile on your face as you let go of the cart, keeping one hand into holding Mimiko while the other reach out to mess up Megumi's spiky styled hair. "You picked up another child on your way here?" "Darling, you are a child too, just where did you wander around to get lost?"
Imagine in the middle of giving information about the lost little girl with the people in the customer service. "Mimiko!" A familiar, a very familiar voice made you halt for a moment then you continue despite the fact that he just utter the name of the girl who was lost. For a moment, anger, rage filled your veins but you took a deep breath to calm yourself as you look at the two child close to you, Megumi holding the hem of your pants and Mimiko holding close to you like she was embarrassed.
"Mimiko! I told you strictly to stay by my side! Do you know how worried I a-!" "Mister, mind your tone, you're scaring the child." As much as you want to walk away, as much as you want to hold Megumi by his hand and pretend all of this isn't happening, the way the little girl, Mimiko was holding into your pants makes your heart ache. Funny a few moments ago, you were kind of resentful of her knowing this girl, this child was one of the reason, the breaking point of everything in which he end up turning his back to all of you, leaving you all alone.
"Who-- (Yo-Your name)." The words he was about to say as you turn around to face him. How long was it since he have seen you in person. No, wait. Is this a dream? It should be for there is no way on earth you are actually right in front of him. But you are, and he was aware of this, all of his senses were telling him you are in fact right in front of him, face to face, just within his reach. And as much as he want to pull you in his arms. He couldn't do that. He can't. Oh god. Oh god how much he was forcing himself to stay still, resisting ever muscle in his body to prevent himself from launching himself at you. It's been so long. It's only been months since he have left but damn, fuck, he missed you. And the fact that you are right in front of him and that he couldn't do a thing physically hurts him.
Imagine ignoring him, (eye color) iris looking down on the other looking similat to the girl on your side but with a different hair color. You gave her a smile before once again kneeling down next to the little girl on your side, Mimiko. "Darling? Why don't you go over Mister?" "..." "He didn't mean to get mad okay? He was just worried about you, it is also your mistake just like Megu over here that you stray away from your guardian okay?" "... really?" "Yes darling, really. Go over there to Mister, okay? I promise you, he's a good person, he's not going to get mad at you just because of a simple mistake."
Imagine, Suguru doesn't know what hurts him even more. The fact that you refuse to acknowledge him or the fact that you said he was a good person when he knows he's not. Not when it comes to the people he killed, not to those friends he have left and disappointed, and not to you whom he left with nothing, not even a word, he left and ever looked back even after all the things both of you have been through, even after all the love that was given. How could he still be a good person to you?
Imagine as Mimiko finally gain the courage to make it back to stay by his side. He watch you tap the two girl by his side, completely ignoring him or so he thought when his purple iris meeting a pair of (eye color) ones. The world around the two of you seems to stop as so much was said into the unsaid. Then you turn around, you turn around like you did not just ask him by the looks of your eyes which says 'You're not going to chase after me, will you?'
Imagine as you walked away, hand holding on into Megumi's little hands and the other still pishing the cart out of rhe grocery. You stop but did not turn around. "Suguru." Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He almost replied back to you by mistake. "This day never happened." Funny as it may sound, he too agreed this day never happened. But it already happened. "Also." This time you glance back slightly. "That's a nice twin girls you got there, take a good care of them. Okay?" "I think I'm doing a great job actually." "Good." He basically choses them over you, that should be the right answer for both of you but why does it hurt?
"Are you okay?" The little hand tried squeeze your big ones causing you to chuckle. "I'm okay." "..." "I'm okay Megu." You gave his little hand a squeeze back. But you're crying is what Megumi wants to stay but could only shut his mouth, hoping his little yet gentle presence might be enough for you to calm down. It did help, and you're very much appreciative of it. But knowing you aren't enough to make him stay and that once again you were hoping he would chase after you but never did. Hurts. It hurts like shit.
[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2023°
: honestly super close into making an actual series of Geto x Reader but im fucking busy at the moment, fuck college. Also I got reslly inspired bu this TIKTOK fanart so I decided to make this.
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aesthetic-bbyg · 7 months
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BEACON OF HOPE ~ Sanji
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LA!sanji x fem!reader
Warnings ! : being yelled at, daddy issues bc it’s the best fanfic seasoning, angst, fluff, abuse from parental figure, double standards, misogyny (or sexism?)
Nattie speaks: a lil something to y’all fed + I need a man like Sanji to comfort me and my daddy issues🙏
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ZEFF WAS IN SOME SORT OF MOOD that day. The harsh trudging of his footsteps as he exited and entered the kitchen while bellowing orders was more then enough evidence to prove your point. Nobody in the kitchen even dared to breath the wrong way, afraid of the ex-pirates response. Even Sanji had managed to bite his tongue and hold back any snide remarks to keep the Zeff’s anger at bay.
You avoided any trouble all day, not causing a disturbance when a costumer was being particularly rude. You simply did you’re job was a waitress, took down orders and dropped them off at the kitchen, later coming back to collect the food and give them to the diners. You’d refused to even think about slacking off just a bit, not going over to Sanji for a couple flirtatious exchanges like usual. The Baratie was flooded in a thick tension but all was well, for the most part.
The business was booming with people, that certain point of the day where all the seats were filled with snobby, rich people. You’d been rushing between tables, taking down orders as quick as possible since these people didn’t recognize patience. It was overwhelming and overstimulating, making your temple throb in pain as you dragged you feet into the kitchen. You called out the order in a loud voice, sticking the scribbled notes onto the overhead where Carne cooked up a steak.
“Table 8 says they’ve been waiting for their drink for twenty minutes, y/n, hurry it up!” Zeff’s voice sudden boomed as he marched into the kitchen, you nearly flinched at the sound of his voice, swallowing down a remark about how those twenty minutes was actually a dramatized two minutes. Nonetheless you collected a few cups and took them straight out to table 8, some rich couple and their equally rich kids.
You gave them a kind smile, despite wanting to desperately slap their cocky smirks off their faces. “And are you ready to order?” You questioned in a chirpy tone, reaching for the notepad in your pocket and the pen tucked behind your ear.
“My, we just got our drinks, give us a minute to look over the menu.” The woman scoffed, you sucked you teeth in, blinking slowly and offering another wide grin.
“My apologies, I’ll be back in a bit.” You shoved the notepad back in its place, walking to a booth that was empty, though the table crowded in a mess of dishes. You reached for the sliver platter that held the receipt�� and a pitiful amount of berry left as a tip. “Assholes.” You mumbled, taking the money and collecting a few plates and cups.
The brewing storm in your head had begun to cloud your vision, sometimes you just wanted to quit and make a dramatic exit out of the shitty restaurant but you never had the balls to. The whole service you’d been good, held your shit together despite wanting to break down on the inside, bit your tongue, but the one moment you got vulnerable ended in tragedy.
In a fit of cursing out some of the customers out in your head, you didn’t take notice of the waiter coming out the kitchen at the exact same time you were entering. The collision led to the shatter of two plates, one cup and a mess of silverware clanking on the floor.
“Fuck.” You mumbled, watching as the waiter scurried away nervously, leaving you at the scene to deal with the approaching man.
“What the hell are you doing!” Zeff shouted, tone practically rumbling the whole restaurant as you stared up at him in utter shock. You felt like a kid again, having to guiltily stand there while an adult went on off on you. The man threw insults that he’d probably regret the next day, humiliating you over a few broken plates. You just stared down at the dirty floor, feeling tiny compared to him. “Clean this up and get out of sight!”
He walked past you, leaving the judging eyes of the kitchen crew to watch as you bent down, slowly picking up the larger chunks. You didn’t even realize that Sanji was approaching till the shadow of his figure loomed over you. You jumped, backing away in fear as you wide eyes met his. The boy frowned, taking notice at the tears pooling in your eyes and you’re quivering lip. You looked like a kicked puppy, that was enough for him to toss the shards of porcelain and help you up.
He took you out the back door, away from the staring eyes as he heard small whimpers escape your mouth. “It’s okay, darling, it’s okay.” He whispered, arms wrapped around your figure, his hand coming up to brush your hair. “The old man is just giving a hard time because he has a stick up his arse.”
You let out silent cries, tears dripping down your face and onto Sanji’s apron, his soothing tone helping ease the tightness in your chest. You felt stupid, and weak, crying over getting reprimanded for something that was your fault. Now your were taking valuable time away from both you and Sanji’s jobs, that’s all you thought about and it made you cry harder.
Funny enough, Sanji was thinking the opposite. He didn’t care about his job, or the broken pieces still laying on the kitchen floor, or even the fact that Zeff could come out any minute and yell at the two for slacking. All he cared about in that moment was you, making sure you cried all the tears you had, making sure that your trembling hands stilled. He placed chaste kisses on your head, standing there until your sobbing quieted down.
He slowly pulled away, hands still placed on your shoulder with a cautious look. “You look lovely, darling.” He chuckled at the sight of the black mascara that began to run down your cheek.
“Piss off.” You muttered humorously, taking the clean rag he offered and wiping away any evidence of your breakdown. “I hate today.”
“I know you do.” He whispered back, taking the cloth and gently swiping away the parts that you missed. “Beautiful as always.”
“Why are old people such assholes.” You shoved your head into his chest, words muffling as you did.
“Because they can’t get it up anymore without breaking a hip.”
You let out a chuckle, smiling against the material of his shirt, his chest vibrating with his own laugh and it calmed you down even more. You took in a deep breath, hands reaching down low, making the cook tense. You grabbed the pack of cigarettes he always had in his pockets, lifting the box with a sly smile.
“Get your head out the gutter.” He laughed quietly, reaching for the lighter in his other pocket as you shoved a cigarette into your mouth.
“Ready to go back in?” He questioned, watching as you puffed out a cloud of smoke.
“Yeah.” You replied quietly, taking a long drag while Sanji opened the door, allowing you to step in first. Gentleman, as always. “If Zeff smells this thing, I’m blaming you.”
The older man hated the stench of burnt out cigarettes that lingered in the air because Sanji had bad habit of lightening one every few hours. The ash tray on the extra table shoved in the corner of the kitchen was full, and Zeff always lectured the blonde on it, Sanji typically never cared enough to stop.
“Blame me all you want, darling, I’ll take the fall each time.” He winked at you, grabbing a dust pan and broom. He lazily swept up the mess, dumping it into the nearby garbage bin, something he knew Zeff would also yell at him about.
“He’s gonna kill you.”
“I’d like to that old man try.” Sanji smirked, giving you that classic flirty look that made the butteries flutter in your stomach. “Now, get back to work.”
You mocked a salut, rolling you’re eyes as you made your way to the kitchen doors, “Yes, chef.”
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THE REST OF THE DAY HAD GONE smoothly, the sun hid itself behind the horizon as the dinning area emptied. Most of the guest had migrated to the bar, the party boomed at the other end of the restaurant.
You and Sanji were the only two in the kitchen, he was showing off some new dish he came up with, claiming it was the best thing on the VIP menu.
“We have a VIP menu?”
“Yeah, but it’s so secret that none of the guest know about it, not even the old man.” Sanji grinned, hand off the plate to you. “Now, the food critic decides.”
You rolled your eyes with a playful smile, picking up the fork and scooping up a bite into your mouth. The mixtures of taste were perfectly balance, unique flavors creating a wonderful sensation. There something about Sanji’s cooking that made you feel so safe and warm, you always teased that he was like a granny. He was able to create that familiarity in his food, something you eat every once in a while that reminds you of home.
You placed the fork down, dramatically folding your hands on your lap as you chewed down the food, “This dish, its…absolute shit.” You held back a smile, looking up at the cook.
Sanji glared at you, hands placed firmly on his hips. “You’re starting to sound like Zeff.”
“Ugh,” You groaned, “Don’t remind me.”
“I can’t believe he made you cry.” Sanji slid off into the seat right next to you, watching as the memory of his yelling flickered in your head, lips dipping into a soft frown. “Fuckin’ arse.”
“It really was my fault.” You mumbled back quietly, “But it was the fact that he yelled at me, you shoulda’ seen that look in his eyes.”
“I see it every day, darling.”
You didn’t like to reminisce on the past, especially since it was such a pain to even think about, both physically and emotionally. You didn’t open up about your family, or the crew you use to be a part of before running into the open arms of the Baratie. You were truly a mystery, you’re past locked up in a box and buried deep in the sand. Though sometimes, it escapes, poisoning you’re mind and breaking you down.
Zeff’s blow up triggered that poison, it spread like a virus, clouding you’re head for the rest of the day. Even now, you’d begun to dig up memories you didn’t want to remember. It was enough to make a fresh wave of tears build up, but you refused to cry this time, not allowing a single droplet to escape as you blinked them away. Though the quiet sniffle gave you away as Sanji glanced over at you, taking notice of the redness under your eyes, a silent confession that told him you were upset.
“You all right, darling?” He asked quietly, brows creased with worry, “Zeff isn’t here, he can’t make you feel like shit anymore.”
“It’s not that.” You whispered back, inhaling a shaky deep breath, “I’m just..thinking.”
“Thinking about what?” He asked, a comforting hand coming to hold yours. “If you need to talk about something you can talk to me.”
Silence filled the room as you struggled with making a decision, the truth was you’d probably start crying your eyes out if you opened your mouth. But the longer you held in these memories, the more toxic the venom became, it was tug-of-war between yourself and your conscious. Then again, the same trauma of the memories is what makes it such a hard task to open up.
You licked your lips, squeezing his hand gently and looking down. “I came from a pirate crew, but this pirate crew in specific was my family. Everyone on the ship was made up of all my relatives, mom, dad, siblings, cousins.” You saw the man nod from the corner of your eye, silently confirming his attendance. “My dad was the captain of the crew, and god he was a fuckin’ pain in the ass.” You voice cracked, words beginning to distort as you sucked in a deep breath. “My job on the crew was to basically be a maid, to pick up after the messes he made. Scrub the bird shit off the ledge, mop the deck, shine his shoes, serve him food, serve him drinks, anything a basic human can do I had to do for him.” You’re sadness had slowly began to turn to anger, your eyes lifting to finally meet his. “I got nothing in return, not even a few berry for the trouble.”
Sanji frowned deeply, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “Why would your father do this to you?”
His questioned made you scoff, because it was the same thing you asked the eighteen years your spent on the torturous ship. It wasn’t until you grew out of the naivety that you realized the answer. “Because I was a woman, and as a woman it was my job, my place, to provide service for the men. I was treated like shit all my life, and no one dared to say a thing.” You stood up, hand pulling away from his as you ran it through your hair frustratedly, moving to pace the kitchen. “The men believed that it was the job of a good wife to give and give, while they just take. I seemed to be the only one who didn’t believe this. But no one could ever speak up to the man, the captain himself, god forbid you disobeyed that asshole because he was never wrong, no matter the situation.” You finally sat back down, picking at your nails. “For years I was treated like nothing more then a slave, yelled at for being to slow, never praised for my work, only picked on what was wrong. It changed my way in seeing people, and it permanently left a scar on my everyday life. Hearing Zeff yell at me that way, it’s just..”
“I know, darling, I know.” Sanji cooed, for soft and tender, “That day, when you first arrived at The Baratie, you had a mark on your left cheek.” The cook swallowed thickly, recalling the day you’re feeble body came to the doors of the restaurant and begged for help. “Was that from him?”
The day before you escaped the ship you’d been refused food, as a punishment for not finishing your chores in time. When you spoke up about being hungry and the unfairness of it all, you received a harsh slap across the face. That was it, that was the last bit of disrespect you’d take. So you set off to steal a life boat and run away from the horrible treatment. “Yes, it was.”
“Bloody hell.” Sanji muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What was the name of your families crew?”
“The Calavera pirates.” You replied, Sanji leaned in closed, placing a finger on your chin to lift your gaze towards him.
“I’ll remember that name until the end of my life, and the day I find them, know that your same pain will be brought upon them.” His tone was so serious and low. His threat sent a chill down your spine, and not because you were scared of it, but because you knew he meant it. “You deserved so much better, darling.” He whispered, bringing you into his arms and planting a kiss on your hairline.
Sanji so desperately wanted to open his mouth and say that he’d treat you like a queen if you’d just give him a chance. But the man’s feelings were shoved down before they could tumble out his mouth. He chose to remain silent, allowing his actions to speak for him. With this new confession he made it his mission to take the extra step in making sure you were treated right. He would be your shoulder to cry on or someone to love, whatever you wanted. It was painful, the amount of love he held in his heart and he was unable to fully show you it.
But if he must wait all his life, he will.
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sobbing but wanting to smash at the same time
lord pls send help.
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upsidedownwithsteve · 8 months
Note
What about simmer Eddie reacting to a customer being rude to reader and making her cry?
Eddie was out of the kitchen before you even had time to respond.
Watery eyes and with heated cheeks, you stared at the angry customer, a man old enough to be your dad, ruddy cheeked and yelling at you for the sake of getting his order mixed up with the booth across from his.
Sorry, you’d fumbled. It’s been so busy today, you’d explained.
But your apologies weren’t good enough and when the customer mistook your silence for weakness, he charged, slamming his glass onto the tabletop so soda spilled over, his eyes blazing and set on you.
“Well, that’s not fucking good enough, is it?” He roared and then he smiled without any niceness behind it, sneering, smirking at your trembling lip.
The diner was silent. Everyone was staring. You didn’t know what to say.
But then the kitchen door was bouncing off of the wall and Eddie was storming out, curls flying as he tore of his apron and shoved in on the coffee bar as he passed. He rolled up the sleeves on his chef jacket, tattoos bared, lines of muscles between ink that suddenly made him seem much more menacing that you’d ever given him credit for.
His eyes flashed as he approached, staring at the customer with so much heat that you shrank a little.
“Is there a problem here?” He asked and his voice was stony, cold. He stared down at the man and his messy table, his spilled cup, his dissected plate.
“Yes, actually,” the man snarked, looking triumphant. He shot you a poisonous look. “This stupid girl here—“
“Is it enough of a problem that you feel justified speaking to wait staff like that?” Eddie interrupted, nostrils flaring. He stood close, one hand on the small of your back, fingertips brushing your spine, a comfort. “Or are you just a fuckin’ asshole no matter the situation?”
The customers jaw dropped and he glared at Eddie, blood rushing to his cheeks in anger. “I want to speak to the manager, right now.”
Eddie grinned, saccharine sweet, all faux niceness and he tilted his head as he replied. “Well, it’s your lucky day, bud.” He clasped a hand to his chest. “I am the fuckin’ manager. Now apologise and get out my diner.”
The man stared. You grew as he shrunk, your shoulders squared, your eyes less glassy.
“What?”
Eddie scoffed, all bravado and sarcasm, his forearms flexing as he crossed them and waited. “Did I stutter? Say sorry to your lovely waitress for talkin’ to her like that and leave. Before my friends and I make you.”
Steve and Argyle appeared a few tables behind you and the man clocked them over Eddie’s shoulder. Steve waved, a wry smile on his face as Argyle flipped the rolling pin he held in a fist.
Eddie’s Slice of Chicago was known for their pies, their pizzas and their shakes. Not their manners.
But you got your sorry and when the man left, Eddie perched you on a kitchen counter and made you a bowl of mac and cheese for your tears.
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