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#but he was just being so stubborn and the rules have always been this way
morelikeravenbore · 2 days
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✨Sebastian Sallow Fluff Alphabet
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My personal headcanons based on the way I imagine and write Sebastian in How to Make a Villain.
This template is from this post by snowluvs and is definitely worth a read and a reblog! I loooove reading Sebastian headcanons so feel free to write your own, too!
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A - Attractive - what do they find attractive about their partner?
We all know that Sebastian has a bit of a savior complex, so he's attracted to a partner who trusts him with their vulnerability by letting him protect them, care for them and fuss over them. However, he also likes a challenge, so someone with a bit of backbone to go with their vulnerability would really pique his interest. It doesn't matter what form that backbone takes, be it academically-focused, impressive duelling prowess, or just someone whose not afraid to call him out when he's acting out of line, Sebastian is undeniably attracted to that spark.
Read on 👇
B - Body - what is their favourite part of their partner’s body?
Given that he craves deep and genuine emotional connection with a partner, he's very drawn to the face: stroking your cheeks, kissing the corners of your mouth, your eyelids, your brows. He finds any excuse to touch your face, whether it be brushing your hair back behind your ear or tenderly wiping food or smudges from your chin with his thumbs. When being intimate, he holds your face between his hands, pressing his forehead to yours, never breaking eye contact.
C - Cuddle - how do they like to cuddle?
Sebastian is a squasher. He needs to feel physically close to you and will often forget this own size and strength in his desperation to hold you closer, closer, closer. He hugs you so tightly you can't breathe, or else lays his entire body weight on top of you when you're lying down together or sharing a bed. You often have to remind him to back up a little lest he squeeze the life outta you with his love.
D - Dates - what does their ideal date look like?
Sebastian is spontaneous and impulsive, but beneath all that bravado and charm, he is also quite afraid of rejection, so he might not always straight out "ask" you on a date. Rather, you might find yourself accidentally having dinner together at the Three Broomsticks, or huddled for hours in a cozy bookshop he "stumbled upon" at random. Sebastian considers any time spent alone with you a date, and would later tease you about how many "dates" you've already been on without ever being asked.
E - Equal - are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?
Generally speaking, Sebastian has a hard time relinquishing control to another. Given his history, he is used to taking charge, solving problems on his own and shouldering the burdens of everyone he cares about — and it goes without saying that he can be incredibly stubborn about accepting help or support, even when he genuinely needs it. However, this does tend to lead to mental and physical overwhelm; decisions become impossible, his body aches with exhaustion, and sometimes the boy just needs you to baby him — while still giving him the illusion that he has everything under control ;)
F - Fight - would they find it easy to forgive their partner? how are they fighting?
My personal headcanon that Sebastian is a Virgo sun, Aries rising. His Aries means he's reactive and oftentimes at the mercy of his more intense emotions (such as anger, jealousy — being ruled by Mars). He doesn't always communicate in a healthy way, he lashes out, snaps, or jumps to wild conclusions that don't make any sense. However, being a Virgo sun means he's ultimately a caregiver with a deep need to fix things and look after you, so he's very quick to apologise and make things right again.
G - Gifts - how do they feel about gift giving? what are their habits when it comes to this?
His gifts are either very practical (something you'll use every day), or something very sentimental (something that once belonged to his mother).
When it comes to receiving gifts, he doesn't believe he deserves them, so giving him something uselful like an interesting book, a set of quills, or a planner is the best way to spoil him without making him uncomfortable. However, if you gift him something sentimental, or something you made especially for him, he'll treasure it for the rest of his life.
H - Holding Hands - when / how do they like to hold hands?
If this boy can hold your hand, he will hold your hand, and if he can't hold your hand, he'll play with your fingers, trace the lines of your palms, brush his pinky against yours. You're his anchor, and your hands are the easiest part to hold on to.
I - Injury - how would they act if their partner got hurt?
Given his history with his parents and his twin, he is completely overbearing any time you're sick or injured. He'll fuss, worry, devise a strict recovery regime, won't allow you to lift and finger, and make you stay in bed long after you're well again. He'll research cures, studies, information about whatever it is that ails you, and will likely tell you all about it in great detail. This is where that lovely backbone of yours will come in handy, because you'll definitely have to sit him down and tell him to relax.
J - Jealousy - do they get jealous easily? how do they deal with it?
For all his wonderful strengths, Sebastian suffers from insecurities born from a lifetime of losing those he loves. His jealousy stems not from your actions, but from a deep-seated fear that you're eventually going to realise that he's as rotten as he believes himself to be and leave him. He can be a bit much, but communication is key.
K - Kisses - how do they like to kiss their partner?
Sebastian loves to kiss your face aaaall over, but once he gets started, he finds it hard to stop. Boy is a kisser, and he can get messy.
L - Love Language - what’s their love language?
Acts of Service and physical affection. Being useful gives him a sense of purpose, and touching gives him a sense of peace, so expect to be well looked after and loved. When receiving love, he responds just as strongly to physical affection, as well as words of affirmation. Tell him he's appreciated and that he's done a good job, and he'll be yours forever.
M - Mornings - how are mornings spent with them?
If you manage to get him into bed before he falls asleep where ever he's been reading or studying, it's a hard job rousing him again. He likes to cuddle, and you'll usually wake up half squashed under his body or tangled up in his arms and legs. He speaks in grunts and groans rather than words, and has super adorable bed hair. He's also usually very hungry in the mornings, so the promise of breakfast will be the motivation for finally getting him up.
N - Nights - how are nights spent with them?
Sebastian loves staying up late and doesn't need much sleep to function. His brain is always running a million miles a minute, so winding down takes him quite a while. He tells you he does his best work at night when the rest of the world is asleep.
O - Open - when would they start revealing things about themselves? how would they do it?
Typically Slytherin, he's evasive about himself and prefers to know everything about you before he opens up. Further to that, theres a lot of pain in Sebastian's heart that he won't share with anyone unless he trusts them completely. But, as Slytherins go, once he does trust you, he'll trust you unconditionally; his secrets will become yours, and yours his, and nothing short of death or betrayal will ever break that bond.
P - PDA - how comfortable are they with pda?
He's a real cheeky little smart arse about it. He loves you so much that he wants everyone to know about. He'll pick you up and spin you around as a standard greeting, sit you in his lap, kiss you midway through a sentence. Sebastian doesn't do things by halves, and the same goes for being in love.
Q - Quirk - what is a random ability that helps the relationship?
His optimism, his adventurous spirit and unquenchable thirst for knowledge means there's never a dull moment in your relationship. Above all else, Sebastian likes to have fun, and your life together will be full of it.
R - Romance - how romantic are they? cliche or creative?
There is nothing conventional or cliche about Sebastian Sallow. In fact, he thrives on being just the opposite. He probably courted you by acting like he was your boyfriend until suddenly he just was, there was likely never any conversation about being official, and the first time he said he loved you was probably in the middle of a heated argument or else said in a way that implied it was already common knowledge to you. But despite his quirks, Sebastian is hopelessly, singularly and passionately devoted to you — just don't expect any grand or sappy gestures of love.
S - Security - how protective are they?
Sebastian is so overprotective that it borders on being overbearing. Truth is, he's terrified of losing you, the one person he loves more than any other, and is prone to bouts of severe anxiety about your health, your commitment to him, and your general safety. His inability to relax is a point of contention in your relationship, and one that you both need to continually work on overcoming together. Communication is key, even when Sebastian jumps to conclusions and assumes the worst. He's not perfect, but he's trying.
T - Talking - what do they like to talk about?
Being a highly intelligent Slytherin means Sebastian loves getting deep. Nothing excites him more than discussing magical ethics, or taboo subjects like the Dark Arts or the use of the Dementors kiss against prisoners. He's unafraid to argue his point and loves a lively debate, but he has mental capacity to respect all viewpoints — even if they conflict with his own. He yearns to understand the inner workings of the mind and takes great pleasure in trying to understand opinions and perspectives that differ to his own. Any subject that expands or challenges his understanding of the world is taken on with great enthusiasm.
U - Understanding - how well do they know their partner?
He's a fast learner, very observant, and madly in love with you (obviously), so he knows basically everything about you. But sometimes he likes to think he knows you better than you know yourself. He needs to be reminded every so often that you are capable of looking after yourself, and that he doesn't need to solve every little problem on his own without being asked.
V - Vaunt - what are they proud of? do they like to show their partner off?
Aside from his intelligence, his quick wit and his sense of humour, he is most proud of his innate optimism, which (thanks to your help) has remained in tact despite all the tragedies and hardships he's endured in his comparatively short life. But more than that, he's proud to have you by his side: the embodiment of goodness and love that he never believed he deserved.
His egotistical side enjoys showing you off — you are, after all, the most attractive person he's ever seen, and having you by his side gives his confidence a little boost — but he can become a bit possessive or jealous if he's feeling insecure.
W - Whole - would they feel incomplete without their partner?
Abandonment issues and childhood trauma means Sebastian holds his loved ones very, very dear to his heart. Without you, he'd still be the driven, intelligent and ambitious Sallow he was born to be, but he'd likely lose the motivation to reach his full potential. Having lost every important person in his life, his desire to better himself after all his past mistakes is soley inspired by you.
X - XOXO - are they affectionate?
Physical affection is both how he expresses love and how he feels love; physical touch grounds him in reality and reminds him that you are safe and near. Smooth back his hair, tenderly touch his face, or play with his fingers and watch how fast he melts.
Y - Yearning - how well do they cope when they’re separated from their partner?
Since you are his home, he feels incomplete and off-kilter when he's away from you. And though he tries to honour your individuality, if you're apart for too long, he'll start to have intrusive thoughts about every bad thing that might happen if he's not there to protect you. Needless to say, when you are finally reunited, he greets as you if several decades have kept you apart — like a big, needy puppy.
Z - Zzz - what are some sleeping habits of theirs?
This boys sleeping habits are a nightmare, precisely because he has a lot of them. In fact, he actively avoids sleep, preferring to stay up reading or researching until he's tired enough to fall into an immediate slumber. Usually, you'll find him slumped over on a table or still snoring on the couch, still fully clothed, but if you do happen to get him into bed, he can't sleep without some part of his body touching yours.
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cherry-leclerc · 5 months
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ruined all my plans ☆ cl16
genre: wolff!reader, secret relationship, humor, enemies to lovers (?? depends how you see it ??), forbidden romance
word count: 6.4k
Toto creates a “hands off” rule over his daughter for all the drivers on the grid. Too late, as it appears Charles might’ve already weasled his way into your heart a long time ago.
or
Plot line of schematization that runs along George, Carmen, Lily and Alex to figure out who you’re busy hooking up with. All bets are on.
nsfw warning under the cut!
18+...pentrative sex (f and m), biting
inspired by this and this !
i'm so weak. i waited 72 hours to post this??? whatever, consider this a sunday treat!! hope you enjoy it :)
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One could argue and say that you’re old enough to make your own decisions, and while everyone around you might see that as true, there’s only one person who would disagree.
“I’m being serious.” Your dad walks away without further comment. Chasing after him like a little girl, you find it almost impossible to keep up with him and his long strides. You pant.
“Why would any of this cause an issue?”
Toto comes to a sudden stop as you bump into his back. You let out a slight umph before putting on your brave face. His heels turn as he looks down at you. “Because I said so.” Leaning down he plants a kiss on your forehead before walking away. You scoff as you click your tongue.
Both your dad and yourself had decided it would be a fun idea if you tagged along for some races of the new F1 season since you haven’t for quite a while, but the moment he noticed the way the grid grew nervous, flirtatious, and some even with tongues hanging out, he regretted it. 
You had been bickering back and forth when he broke the news to you that you would be flying back home as soon as possible. If teleportation existed I would’ve already sent your ass away, he stated earlier as you glared angrily.
“You know this isn’t a proper excuse to just send me away. I’ve behaved! Not once have I responded to any of the driver's advances.” He knows you’re right, but he ignores you anyway. Susie had always pointed out how his stubbornness always had her fuming and in this moment, in you, he noticed just how annoying it could get.
“I don’t care! If this is something I have to do in order for my daughter to stop being gawked at by every driver, so be it. Now, stop yapping and start packing.”
That was the last straw.
As he walks out of the Mercedes garage to make his way to his drivers he hears fast footsteps. Throwing yourself onto his large back you cling on as if he was a floatie. 
“Let go!” He stumbles back and forth as you cover his eyes. Then your arms slide around his large shoulders, squeezing hard. “You're acting like a child!”
“Stop treating me like one then!” This was a bit much, you’ll admit it, but never out loud. You pinch his bicep and he yelps, running like a chicken without a head. You screech as you hold on tighter, head digging into his neck.
“This isn’t going to make me change my mi-” You bite his ear. He tries to push your legs that wrap around his torso, but you just won’t budge. He spins as he groans in pain. He knew you hated to be dizzy, so why not use it against you.
“Cute. Father-daughter quality time.” Lewis smiles as George takes his phone out to record. Toto looks at them with a bright red face.
“Fuck quality time! Get. Her. Off.”
Scurrying over, they each grab a leg. “Let go!” You yell as you turn to look at them, breathing hard.
“Exactly! Let go!” Toto continues to pry your hands off.
Everyone has gathered outside of their garages as they watch in amusement. Carlos bends over laughing.
“She looks like fun, no?”
Taking a sip of water, Charles shakes his head.
“That chicks crazy.”
-
You, Lewis, and George sit in the Mercedes meeting room silently waiting for Toto. Rocking in his chair impatiently, George grins. “Do you guys want to see the video I took?”
You glare harshly. “My dads not here yet, you wanna be next?” He shuts up as he slides his phone back into his pocket.
A minute passes by before your dad walks in with Avengers stickers covering his ear, hand, and neck. You all stifle a laugh. “You think this is funny?” You nod. His cold stare turns into the kind you’ve only seen the times he’s grounded you.
“You asked!”
He shakes his head in disapproval. “These are Jack’s, so I don’t even want to hear it.” Sliding a chair out in front of you three, he takes a seat. “We need to talk.”
You roll your eyes. “Really? I thought we were all gonna learn how to fly.” George lets out a laugh as Lewis nudges your thigh. Just listen, his gaze warns you. 
Toto folds his arms against the tables as he lets out a breath. “I won’t send you home.” Not what you were expecting. Hopping over to him you kiss his cheek as he slightly flinches.
“Thank you, Daddy!”
George raises an eyebrow. “Seriously? If I would ever behave like this with my parents they would ship me to boarding school.” You bite the air.
“Sit down.” You rush back into your seat between the Mercedes drivers. Drumming his fingers against the table he begins. “But I have some rules. Call them…my conditions.” You groan.
“That’s not how this works-”
“No, it’s going to work because I said so!” He takes a moment to relax before continuing. “Look, I spoke to your mother and you were right. I was being unfair.” You clap your hands in delight. “That doesn’t mean what you did was right. But here’s all I ask from you, the same thing as always; don’t date any drivers on the grid.”
You nod profusely. “I promise!” There were some good looking men on the grid, but quite frankly you never found interest. You knew what you’d be getting yourself into if you ever did.
Lewis clears his throat. “This has been super nice and all, but why are we here?” He signals between him and his teammate. 
“Right.” Standing up, Toto places both his hands on his waist. “I won’t ask for much.” Turning to look at them he says, “Just ask for you both to watch over her.”
“Like Jesus?” 
“George, shut up!” You follow Toto. “Dad, I don’t need them to babysit me. What’s the whole point of not being treated like a baby?”
“That’s what you don’t seize to understand. You are my baby.” He cups your face tenderly. “Those are my circumstances if you want to stick around.” He lets go. “And either way, you said it yourself. You don’t pay much attention to them, so why would this be any different?”
“Fine. Deal.”
-
“Where are you headed?”
Miami was always a fun place to be at and you wanted to have some fun. Wasn’t this the point of it all?
“I’m just going for a walk around the paddock.”
Lewis stands up like a guard dog as he slides on his sunglasses. “You know what? I’m kind of in the mood for a walk too. Always a good time to show off my outfit.”
Rolling your eyes you reluctantly agree. He’s telling you about Roscoe’s recent “girlfriend” as you both pass the Red Bull garage. Paparazzi stand outside as they wait for any glimpse of Max, but as soon as they see Lewis they immediately rush over. Almost like a force of nature, Lewis coolly poses as he continues walking smoothly. 
“Yeah, I can’t do this right now.” Taking advantage of the situation, you dart off.
“Whatever,” Lewis yells out as he continues, entertained by the cameras.
Rushing behind a nearby wall you gasp for air. “Are you okay?”
“Crap!” You fling your hand outwards as you smack someone's hard chest. You look at your fist as you recognize the dark blue fireproofs.
“Ow!” Max yelps as he pushes your arm down. You cringe.
“Sorry! I just thought- nevermind. Are you alright?” He nods. 
“Yes. Were you looking for someone?” You notice that in an attempt to get away from the mob you had landed yourself inside the garage of Mercedes’ main rival. You shake your head.
“God, no. I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” You hum embarrassingly. “I should go now.” 
“Hey, I mean you can hide out here with me for a while.” 
The way he smiles shyly takes you back to the day he first asked you out. He was nice, but no. You can’t. Tugging out your phone from your back pocket you giggle nervously. “Oh! Would you look at that! It’s my dad calling. I should go before he starts to worry. Bye Max!” You zoom out.
“Yeah, bye…”
“Where were you?” Toto is sitting in the small room he had set up for you when you were on the road with him and the team.
“I went out for a walk.” That wasn’t completely a lie, but if he found out who you were with he would only start World War III. “Wanted to stretch out my legs.” You kick your legs out as you hop up a few times.
He holds out an envelope as you delicately reach out for it. Opening it up you see what’s inside. Pictures of you with Lewis, but as you continue flipping through you see yourself slipping away. It would almost be funny if it weren’t for Toto’s narrowed look. “Where did you run off to?”
“First of all, this is extremely creepy, zero privacy, but nowhere! I came straight back, you know I can’t handle large groups like those.”
Rising up he nods. “If you say so.”
-
You take a seat next to your dad as you both analyze the race. The Red Bulls are fast, as expected, but Mercedes wasn’t that far off. They might actually get podium if the strategy continued the same. 
“C’mon. C’mon.” It was the final lap and George was fighting for third against Fernando. Anxiety filled up your stomach, you could only imagine what George was feeling. “Goddamn it!” You and Toto both curse out as you both slam the headset against the table.
“Every single time.” 
You congratulate Lewis and George as they walk in after being weighted. “You guys did good.” You smile as they wipe off their sweat with a small towel.
“Ah, I need a drink. Wanna come out with Carmen and I to the club? A couple other drivers are tagging along.” 
“Yes! Okay, just me a second to go back to the hotel and change.” As you run away, Toto strolls over. George gulps.
“Remember…” He warns him as the Brit carefully nods. Of course. You don’t need to worry.
You show up 2 hours late, but it's Miami. The later the better.
“That group right there! I swear I know them.” You had been trying to explain to the security guard that you weren’t some crazy fan and that you did in fact know the group of F1 drivers who had shown up to the VIP section.
“Right and I know Oprah Winfrey…” You furrow your brows. Are you calling me a liar? He shrugs. Just then, Charles walks by and you immediately jump forward, but the guard holds you back.
“Charles!” He turns to look at you as he tries to understand the situation. You’re being held back by the guard as you screech in his arms. He rolls his eyes.
“Yeah, no.” He walks away. Coward! Your body droops into his arms. The tall man drags you out. I swear I know himmmm.
“Yo, is that chick dead?” Your eyes pop open as you hear a familiar voice.
“Daniel! Ah. Thank God! Tell him you know me!” Daniel lets out a loud laugh as he claps his hands in amusement. 
“Oh God, this is amazing.” He hurries over to you both. “Yes, I know her.” The bald man looks like he doesn’t quite believe you, but he lets you go either way. Walking side by side you pat the Australians shoulder. 
“Thank you so much. You won’t believe how long it’s taken me to try and wheeze myself in.” He grins.
“No problem.” He lets you through first as Carmen rushes over.
“Oh good! I thought you weren’t going to show up.” 
“Ran into a bit of trouble, but there’s no way I would’ve missed out on Georgie’s almost win celebration.” George scowls. Bitch, he mutters under his breath. Carmen smacks his head.
Excusing yourself you walk over to the bar as you order yourself a drink. You don’t have to turn to know someone is now standing next to you. You immediately noticed the stack of bracelets. “Hey, dick, what was that all about?’ Charles sighs.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
“You ignored me! You let them drag me away like a beast!”
He snickers. “You said it, not me.” Slamming your palm against the table you make his drink jump up a bit.
“You are a real piece of shit, y’know that?”
“And you aren’t?” 
You toss your head back with a cold laugh before you glare back at him.
“I can’t believe I ever dated you.”
-
There was a time - where you’re embarrassed to admit now - that you actually fell for a driver's charm.
“Charles,” he introduces himself, as you kick your shoe against your leg nervously. For a while you tried to push away, but somehow, something always led you back to him.
Skipping your way down the paddock you make your way towards the taco stand. Rumors had made their way to you that Scuderia had authentic tacos in honor of the Mexican GP and you just had to go. 
The line was long, but you didn’t seem to mind as you answered a few texts. 
“Hungry?”
You blush when you notice Charles with his fireproofs. Glistening sweat makes his brown hair connect to his face. He looks so filt-
“Just a tiny bit.” He could’ve easily made his way to the staff to request your plate much faster, but then how else would he talk to you? For an entire hour, his towering height lingered over you as you both stood under the blazing sun. And he was just as perfect as you could have ever imagined. It wasn’t that long after that you both were sneaking in kisses behind Ferrari’ and Mercedes’ motorhome.
“Fuck.” He kisses you hard as his hands slip underneath your shirt. His cold touch makes you shiver as your body jumps up a bit. This causes you to rub yourself against him. He pulls away, eyes screwed shut.
“What’s wrong? Did I do something?”
He shakes his head as he stares down at you with an enamored smile tugging at his pink, swollen lips. “No, it's just that…” You look down at the tent poking through his jeans. 
“I could fix that.” Your flirtatious tone is enough for him to fall back against your warm lips. He groans.
“N-no. Not here.” You had both been taking shelter behind the Mercedes garage in order to not be caught, but still, this was risky. You sigh as your arms drop to your sides.
“You’re right.” He gives you one last peck as he rushes off to his media duties. Walking through the sliding doors the first person you see is George signing a few hats. He looks up.
“My word, did someone punch your lips?” You rush over to a nearby mirror as you take in your appearance. Your lipstick was everywhere. Bring up your sleeve, you quickly try brushing away. 
“Not a word of this to my dad.” 
And no he never told Toto, but he knew he couldn’t hold onto this by himself. 
“...It has to be someone on the grid. But who…” Carmen, George, Lily, and Alex had gone out on a double date when the Brit spilled the beans.
“What if it’s Max? Have you seen the way he looks at her!” Lily exclaims as she purses her lips. Alex shakes his head in disagreement.
“No. It definitely has to be Carlos. I mean look at him! That’s straight up her type.” Oh. I didn’t even think of that one, Lily pouts.
“You both got it wrong, it’s Lando. They get along so well, plus, they would look so cute together.” Carmen swoons at the image. George pretends to gag.
“Darling…friends… let me explain.” They all sit there eager for the next candidate. “It’s definitely Lewis.” The table dies.
“Mate! You’re insane. He’s old enough to be her dad!” Alex cripples over laughing as he leans his head against his girlfriend's shoulder. She pats his head.
“He’s right, George. It just doesn’t make any sense.” 
Whatever, he thinks to himself. It might be him.
-
“I lost her! Shit, I lost her!” George panics to his girlfriend as she stares up in confusion. What do you mean you lost her! He cringes. “As in; she's gone! And I keep calling Lewis and he’s not picking up and- oh.”
Carmen’s eyes grow wide. “You don’t think…” George laughs wickedly.
“I told you so! Wait until I tell Alex. Alex!” She slaps her hand over his mouth.
“Are you crazy? You can’t just go around claiming this when it might not even be true!” He immediately deflates. You’re right, you’re right-
“Either way, Lando’s missing too.” She giggles as he stares with a deadpan expression.
-
“Shit!” Charles hisses in pain as he bangs his head against the wall. You let out a sweet laugh. 
“Be careful. Also, be quiet!”
You were supposed to be meeting with Toto to go grab dinner with the team and Charles had a last minute defrief to get to, but there was something far more important.
You were both horny.
“Mhmm,” he mumbles as he slips you onto the counter that sits in the privacy of his motorhome. Scrunching your mini dress around your thighs he gets down on his knees as he drags your panties down with his teeth, a teasing look painting his eyes. You bite down on your erupting moan. 
“As much as I love this, I need you to be fast.” He chuckles as he stands up to his full height, slipping his suit down as his cock springs out, looking painfully hard. You lick your lips. His strong hands grab your hips to scoot you closer towards him. You giggle as he pecks your lips one final time before slipping inside of you.
Normally, you moan as loud as you please, but you know you can’t right now. So, you bite the inside of your cheek as he begins thrusting in the most delicious way. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you softly pant.
“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs. He knows how much you love to be vocal and seeing you trying not to be in order to not get caught has him downright impressed. His hips pick up the pace as you silently whine. His cock brushes against your g-spot and that has you feeling as if you’re going to burst. Slow down, Charles, you moan. He cocks his head to the side. “Sois une bonne fille et prends-le.”
Nodding frantically your hand squeezes against his forearm for support.
“Charles are you almost done changing?” Carlos taps his fingers against the door as he waits for his teammate. Trepidation fills you at the thought of Carlos walking in on you. You had both been keeping this a secret and this was definitely not the way you wanted someone to find out about your relationship. 
“Charles, s-stop,” you whisper, but this only seems to make Charles snap his hips faster. You want to scream when you feel his cock all the way deep inside your stomach. He suppresses a loud groan.
“Just a minute! Go on without me.” You hear a low, Just don’t take too long. Footsteps grow further as the Spaniard struts away. You sigh but that’s quickly replaced when your boyfriend tosses your left leg over his tan shoulder. 
“Oh my God.” Eyes are looking straight at Charles as he admires the way his cock disappears inside of you. The thought makes you blush. He softly kisses your ankle as you moan louder, you feel your tummy grow tighter. “Charles, oh God, I’m gonna cum-”
He covers your mouth, muffled cries vibrating against his hand as he feels you clench around him. The warmness that splatters around his cock makes him bite your ankle as he finishes inside of you. You squirm in pain.
Panting, he lets go of your leg and kisses your temple. “Sorry. Did I hurt you?” You shake your head. 
“I’m okay.” Seeing your fucked out state has him glowing with pride that your his and that only he gets to see you like this. He gives you one last kiss as he pulls out of you. You choke at the slight sensitivity. Sorry, he mumbles as he cleans you up.
You both go your separate ways as it dawns on you that you feel so…complete. It’s a weird feeling to have, but as soon as you remind yourself that this is Charles - your Charles - you don’t feel so lost anymore. Grinning, you walk towards your dad.
“You took forever,” he scolds you before letting out a soft smile, kissing the top of your head. He takes a whiff. “Did you run here?”
“Um, why do you ask?”
He stares at you like a hawk before rubbing his eyes. “No reason. You’re just sweating a bit, that's all. Anyways, we should get going.”
That same day you quickly disappear to a nearby shop to buy a cheap perfume.
“Mmm. Flowers.” Lewis sniffs as he walks past you. 
-
“Are you serious?” Lily and Alex grew suspicious when they saw Carmen and George huddling up together like two detectives, so eventually, they went to investigate themselves. “Have you tried calling her?”
“Goodness! How did I not think about that?” Lily and Carmen shoot a dry look at the Brit before he shrinks down onto his seat. 
“Stop fighting and let’s just think,” Alex interrupts.
Lily’s eyes roam the club as she see’s Checo and Lance talking. Daniel is with Fernando, but wait-
Excited, she turns back to the group. “Max! It’s Max!” She jumps up and down as Alex stares at her in love.
“Sweet, sweet, Lilyicious, you’re wrong. C’mon we’ve talked about this.” She stomps her foot.
“Nu-uh. Look around with your big head.” She points around the club. “Max is missing. It makes sense.” 
“Okay, well Carlos is missing too, how do you explain that?” The couple huff in defeat as they plop down next to George. 
“Well this isn’t working. All our best bets are missing and so is she!” Carmen chugs down an entire glass of vodka as the three of them stare up at her scared. “We’re just going to have to look for her ourselves.”
-
Wanna come over to my room? Fifth floor, #254.
Butterflies fill you to the brim. On my way.
It’s a personal record, really, the way you dash to his room. Part of you thinks about waiting a couple of minutes before knocking, but you know can’t stay away for long. Closed fist almost reaches the wood as the door swings open. Charles stands there with a pair of workout shorts and white socks. Maroon bruises cover his chest from a few nights ago.
Walking towards him you brush your fingers against his chest. “I like where this is going,” you joke as he smiles, kicking the door shut. 
The way he kisses you is different. The type of kiss where someone is really trying to memorize the person. It’s still amazing, but why does it feel any different from the rest? You dig your lips deeper as if this would help you figure it out. His hands move to play with your hair as he pulls away. His fingers feel nice. “Let’s sit.” 
Once you settle onto his comfy bed you stare at him in awe. How is it that he ever paid you any attention? He could have anyone, but he chose you? That must count for something. “I was thinking maybe now's a good time to let everyone know we’re together.”
He clenches his jaw. “I don’t know…”
You tuck your legs under your butt as you lean a bit forward. “Okay, maybe you’re right. Let’s start off slow. Maybe just our friends?” Taking one look at him makes you feel like an anthill. “Or what do you think?”
Taking in a shallow breath he doesn’t look at you when he says, “I want to break up.” You stop breathing.
He doesn’t say I think we should break up or there’s something wrong. No, he just jumps straight to the point. No explanation. 
But you need one.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” This time he looks at you and his eyes don’t hold the same shine they normally do. The kind you love on him. Now they’re dark and empty. Did I do that?
“It’s just that…” He trails off when he notices you looking at him as if he’s really about to try to save your relationship. “...I need to focus on the Championship.”
You bite your lip as you try reaching out for his hands, but when he slightly pulls away before you even can, it makes you shrink. Settling your hand on your lap you let out a shaky breath before pretending to smile. “Of course. I get that. I can give you some space.”
He shakes his head, eyes looking down to his feet. “No. I just can’t be dating you right now.” When you were 7 and your dad accidentally stepped over your favorite tea cup you had claimed  that was the worst pain you have ever felt.
Nothing would beat Charles’ words.
“Me? You can’t be dating me right now, okay.” You start putting your shoes back on and he stares at you with an open mouth.
Stay. I never meant any of this.
But it was too late.
Entering the elevator you’re sobbing, feeling like a nobody. What did you do wrong? Everything was going great. The doors slid open as the last person you wanted to see, apart from Charles, walked in. 
“Honey, are you okay?” Toto frantically searches for any cuts or anything that might be causing you pain. Surface level, you want to cry out. You’re looking surface level, but you won’t find anything.
Tying your arms around his waist he immediately hugs you back, trying to understand. 
“Daddy, I want to go home.”
-
“That’s it. I’m calling him.” The Brit pulls out his phone before his friend yanks it away.
“Do you want to lose your job?” Quickly, he shakes his head. Alex tsks. “But we’ve looked everywhere! God, I’m gonna get fired regardless…”
“Bathroooooom. I need to go to the bathroommm.” A body sways, bumping into Lily, sending her flying towards Carmen. 
“Watch where you’re going dickhe- oh! Max!” The Dutch man squints his eyes. Do I know you?
“Don’t bother, he’s completely wasted,” Daniel says as he brushes past the group. But George is desperate. Shaking him by the shoulders, he questions Max.
“Have you seen her? Was she with you?” 
Max lazily puts a finger over George’ lips. He sighs at the silence. “Much better…no. I haven’t.” They all groan. Letting go, Max zigzags away.
“So, it’s not Max.”
-
I was homesick. That’s all. 
Your mom raises an eyebrow. “But you love traveling, this is new.” You shrug lamely.
“I just really missed you and Jack.” You both look over to your little brother where he silently sits there entertained with his coloring book.
“No you didn’t.” You laugh as Susie stands up to brush your hair. “Honey, what actually happened?” 
A weak smile forms itself onto your lips. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
-
“Should we call the police?”
Lily exhales, rubbing her fingers against her lap nervously. “No. I still think we can find her.”
Alex nods. “Try calling Lewis again.” A disgusted look maps itself on George’ face.
“Gross. No, what if they’re hooking up?” They all groan. 
That’s definitely not true at all, Carmen mumbles. “I still say it’s Lando.” Daniel is passing by with a feathered boa. “Danny!” she shrieks. His pearly whites make her smile. “Do you know where Lando is?” Daniel looks up at the ceiling before clicking his fingers.
“I last with him with baby Wolff!” Carmen jumps up in excitement. 
“See George I told you! I told you so! Eat and-”
“...Oh no nevermind that wasn’t him. It was…oh. Who was it?” He covers his face with the boa as he thinks about it.
“Hand that over. I’m about to kill myself.” The group turns to face Lando. His face is flushed as he strips the boa from his teammate. Daniel lets out a sore cough as Lando pulls it off him, but the Australian had it wrapped around his neck. Sorry mate, he apologizes.
George rushes over to the younger Brit. “Where were you?” 
“I’m okay,” Daniel croaks out as he takes a sip of Lily’s drink. 
“I was trying to get a girl's number.” Carmen’s eyes shine. “Word of advice: always make sure they’re not married.” He walks away.
“Dammit. I was almost sure it was going to be him."
-
“Please, don’t hang up!”
His voice is raspy from the cold as you lie warm in your bed. You can already smell your favorite homemade pancakes your mom always makes for you when you’re feeling down.
“Tough, because as you can see, I just don’t want to talk to you.” You’re about to hang up before he shoots out a quick, Too late. I’m downstairs.
Now, you’re definitely awake. You quickly try to make yourself seem presentable before you rush downstairs. And he was there, sitting with Susie as they both ate your favorite pancakes.
You stand there with your matching PJ’s and one white tube sock. Charles smiles fondly as you blush. 
“You forgot your other sock…” Jack tugs at your shirt to gain your attention as he holds his arm out. 
“Thank you, baby.” You quickly slip it on. 
Susie walks to Jack as she picks him up. “Let’s go, Jackie. This is what we call privacy.” As they both walk down the hallway you can still hear her say, Do you know what privacy is?
“Is she…” 
You stare at him blankly. “She’s teaching him how to respect others.” A distant smile. “Holy shit! Wait! Maybe she can teach you.” He winces.
“Look, I just want to talk. Please…” You take a seat across from him as you snatch his plate away and begin to eat.
“I’m only listening because there’s a really delicious plate right in front of me, but you only have 5 minutes, then I want you to leave.” He nods desperately.
“So, um, that night…”
You can’t help the shaky breath that slips past your lips. You hate that he’s getting to you, because it's not what he deserves. You stubbornly would have bought yourself a diamond ring if you had known he would be here.
“...That night. I never meant anything that I said.” The way you want to laugh has him hurrying to get all his words out. “The media, all the stress, was getting crazy and I was a fool to let that get to me.”
“Are you just word vomiting?” He chuckles.
“This is me telling you that I messed up. I screwed up. I fucked up. Whatever you wanna call it, but you don’t know how much I regret that day. How cold I was being to you.”
“You didn’t even try. You never even let me help you,” you whisper as he shakes his head. I know amour, I know.
He grabs your hands. Soft and warm and his. “If you need me to beg, I’ll beg…But please. Give me one more chance.”
Looking deep into his eyes you slowly nod, almost as if you can’t believe this is really happening. 
“One more chance.”
-
“If we’re being quite honest, I never thought it would just be you and me, George.” The two best friends share a high five.
“I can’t even believe it. One of us might actually have it in the bag!” Carmen and Lily scoff at their boyfriends. 
“Let me remind you that she’s still missing, dork.” Lily smirks as George snaps out of it.
“You’re right, but we’re getting closer.”
Standing behind Lily, Alex wraps his arms around her shoulders. Despite everything going on around them, Lily still leans in. “Babe,” he starts. “You might actually have a winner in your han- fuck!” His girlfriend jumps up.
“What!”
“Hey, have you guys seen Charles?” Carlos stands there with a puzzled look as Alex curses him out. I bet my money on you! He slaps a 100 dollar bill to George as he does a small celebratory dance with Carmen.
Lily steps aside. “We haven’t, but I think I remember him being with Pierre and Kika. They were talking about - nevermind - that’s not what matters here!” 
Carlos hums. “Okayyy then. Just let me know if you do. He’s my ride back.” He walks away.
“Well, well, well,” George clicks his tongue, tall frame leaning against the table. “And then there was one.”
-
“Are you both sure?” 
Things had taken a sharp turn that it even had you questioning your sanity.
“We’re sure.” You gaze at the bright rock that sits on your finger as Charles rubs soft circles on your hand. You mom sighs, but deep down she’s proud of both of you. Overcoming past mistakes together is a huge deal when it comes to marriage. Jack giggles as you flash your ring up. Charles smiles and Susie can tell by his dazzling green eyes.
The Monegasque is in love.
“You can’t tell dad yet, though!” you yelp as your mom stares back with an open mouth.
Why not?, she says at the same time Charles asks, She can’t?
Shaking your head you kiss your fiance's cheek before facing your mom. “It’s just that he wouldn’t understand. At least not yet. Right?”
Charles nods slowly, not fully seeing where this was going. “Whatever you say, mon amour.” Susie winks in approval. Charles feels quite proud of that one.
“I’ll respect your choice,” she says loudly as Jack chirps up. He nods as he keeps quiet. “Right, I’ll respect it, but you have to find a way to let him know soon enough.” Getting up, you hug her tightly.
“Thank you! And yes I have a plan. Top tier. He won’t even see it coming.”
-
“Now it makes sense why they’re so close! All those late night drives, breakfasts in the morning. No wonder I wasn’t invited for a few of those!” 
“Yeah. That’s why,” Alex shoots as he snickers. Carmen softly pats her boyfriend's shoulder as she lets out a playfully grimace. George flips him off.
“You’re just mad because I actually got something right for once!”
“You said it. For once.”
“Oh, you bi-”
“Huh? Huh! Speak louder you gira–”
“Guys!”
Cut short from their heated argument they all turn their attention.
Lewis stands there with a worried expression. His facial lines noticeable as he pinches his face in slight fear. “I’ve been looking everywhere, but I can’t find her. Oh, God, Toto’s gonna kill me…”
George has his fist wrapped around Alex’s collar as he stares with his mouth hung open. Alex laughs as he pushes George off. 
“Aha! I knew it! There was just no way!” George groans as he tugs at his floppy hair. 
Lewis looks lost. “I don’t have time for this, have you seen her?” They all shake their head as they explain their theory that involved the 7x World Champion. He shudders.
“Gross! She’s like a daughter to me!” 
“Thank you!” Carmen, Lily, and Alex shout as George shrugs. 
“Okay, so let’s backtrack: She couldn’t have been with Max because poor boy is too drunk to even remember his own name, she wasn’t with Lando since he’s too busy hiding from someone’s husband-” 
George and Alex giggle.
“She definitely wasn’t with you,” Lily points to Lewis as if it were impossible for you and him to be in the same sentence. Way to rub it in, he pouts. She shrugs her shoulders as an apology. “And she wasn’t with Carlos because he’s too busy looking for…”
Their eyes grow wide.
“Jesus fucking Christ, where is the bathroom!” Max swings his arms, almost knocking down Yuki. Sorry Uki, he murmurs as he furrows his eyebrows.
“Yuki,” the Japanese driver corrected him.
“Whatever.” Max waves in dismissal. Alex drags the Dutch closer to them. 
“There’s one right here.” Max almost starts to cry as he spots the bathroom that stood close by the group. 
“Thank youuuu.” He rushes towards the restroom as he tugs harshly. He lets out a whine as he bangs his head against the wall in frustration. “I swear I am going to kick this door down…”
Alex runs over. “Don’t do that, mate. Again.” He kisses his bicep  as winks over to his girlfriend. Watch this, he mouths. 
But it won’t budge.
“Move over,” George says as he starts rolling up his sleeves. This one’s for you, Carmen. The brunette girl cringes as she covers her eyes. He groans as he pulls with all his strength. “One minute…”
Lewis lets out a sigh as he walks over and pushes his teammate to the side. Wrapping both hands around the handle he leans back and pulls. Both Lily and Carmen drool over his rippling muscles.
“At least try to hide it,” George muffles.
Suddenly the door swings open. Max cheers as he runs in.
“Gotta pee, fuck, get out!” 
Two flying bodies are thrown out as they both crash onto a nearby couch.
“Dickhead!” you yell out as you rub your head. Charles groans in pain with you on top of him. The entire room grows silent. Well, as silent as it could get in a club. 
“Young lady, when your father finds out!” Lewis exclaims, hands against his hips.
“You’re fucked,” George laughs. “Literally.”
There’s really no way of hiding it. Your short skirt is riding up a tad bit too high as you yank it down. Lipstick stains cover the Monegasque’s face.
“Not a word.”
-
“And how do you think you guys are going to keep it under wraps?” Susie questions as Charles looks at you with an intrigued face. Yeah. How are we?
Rolling your eyes you take a bite of the now cold pancakes. You gag. 
“Easy. We can just pretend to hate each other for a while, make dad believe I’m following his long lasting rule of not crushing on any driver and after a while he’ll trust me and ta-da! We’re getting married, baby!”
You flash a proud smile as Charles high fives you.
Your mom raises a skeptical brow as she leans against her chair. Giggling, you put your hand over hers.
“How hard could it be?”
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⌗︙・⚠︎ obsessed blade being an utter sadomasochist when it comes to you ⚠︎ ♡⸝⸝
Blade knows you. He knows everything about you—Blade knows everything about what makes you human. He knows what you love, he knows what you dread.
Blade knows that you're the only person who could possibly get his adrenaline pumping in ways he hasn't felt in all of those long, dreadful years of his immortality. Never have you once shown him an ounce of fear during each of your intense battles, eyes piercing into him as you parry his attacks, formulating ways to land a hit on him. Even if he'd managed to overpower you, his body pinning you down as he pants hungrily in excitement and exhaustion, you'd still find a way to headbutt, punch, or kick him away.
It's why he always looks forward to fighting you whenever he's sent away on a mission, barely able to contain the excitement of both inflicting pain upon you and having you inflict pain on him.
He ignores the teasing from Kafka and Silver Wolf, the likes of whom are well aware of just how deep his obsession for you truly runs. But it's not like they can do much to stop him, since he's disgustingly stubborn in his ways, and trying to get him to stop obsessing over you would just be a pointless endeavor. At the very least, there are times when Elios' script does not require the swordsman, though Blade makes his frustration of not being able to see you very obvious.
Blade makes it very clear to the other Stellaron Hunters that he doesn't want any of them to engage in any sort of combat with you. Your fighting prowess is reserved for him and him alone. Those warnings are mostly directed to Kafka since Blade knows that she'd toy around with you for a bit just to mess with him. And in Blade's mind, his rules apply to you as well; you aren't allowed to fight anybody else other than him. If you take aim for Kafka or Silver Wolf, Blade is right there, parrying each and every one of your attacks. You originally thought he was just simply providing time for his accomplices to escape or formulate an attack plan, but he proves you wrong.
He only has it out for you, ignoring your fellow Trailblazers aiming hits at whoever is accompanying him in favor of pouring each ounce of his focus on you. When your companions attempt to distract him with an attack of their own, all he does is kick away your companions, barely sparing them so much as a glance. It's so blatantly obvious to everyone in the vicinity, even becoming a bit of a joke (a rather dark one) that you dryly chuckle about.
Blade's temperament blooms like a hellish flower, corrupt roots digging under his skin and sapping away at his patience when he watches you in secret. He can see the way you interact with your fellow Trailblazers, particularly Dan Heng. How you so openly douse that pathetic little bastard in waves of affection, presenting him with warm smiles and cheerful embraces that have that sniveling coward freeze up. No, he is not jealous, not one bit. His blistering anger bleeds into his strength, and when he faces off against you once more, he does not allow you any breathing room as he mercilessly lands hit after hit on you. To make you feel even a snippet of the pain that you have so unknowingly brought upon him gives Blade a shuddering thrill.
And yet Blade truly does not want to kill you, to snuff out your life and be done with this twisting obsession. He once thought about it—he'd thought it over multiple times inside his broken mind—but found that even thinking about it made a coil of unease squeeze deep inside of him--it felt painful. He's much more willing to drag out these skirmishes, to relish in the feeling of his hands wrapped around your throat, and your weapon just moments away from cutting his throat open.
When Blade feels the oh-so-familiar sting of his flesh having been sliced open by your weapon, a hot pulse of arousal squeezes in his crotch.
"Ah--" It takes a bit too much restraint to swallow up the rest of the satisfied moan that nearly escapes the wide grin spread across his lips. Blade briefly almost humors the sinful thought of letting loose that perverse noise, to see what kind of reaction he could pull from you. It wouldn't matter if your expression would be blank or if you'd given him the most disgusted look you could muster. He'd do anything to get any sort of possible reaction from you.
Though it seems that he doesn't need to bother, as you clearly heard his little slip-up and gave him a look that was clearly saying Really? Did you really just do that? It doesn't matter to him that you're probably misunderstanding why he just nearly moaned, so long as your attention is on him, then he could care less if you think of him as a pervert.
"You're a real piece of work, y'know that?" A sarcastic half grin forms on your lips, though your mood is anything but amused. You grunt as he brutishly swings his sword a little too close to your face, just barely nicking at your skin. "Bet that's why ya keep tryna fight me all the time huh?"
Blade scoffs, though the smoldering excitement in his eyes gives away just how fucking excited he truly is. "What's it to you? If you got a damn problem," he heaves as you land a booming kick to his hip, forcing him to skid away, "Then keep it to yourself."
"Yeah I got a damn problem, you freak." Oh yeah, call the guy who's currently trying to tear you into fucking pieces a freak. That'll help you beat his ass and successfully retreat back to the safety of the Astral Express. Seriously, if he wanted to get his rocks off just because of a fight, he could've fought anybody else and been done with it. It feels pretty icky knowing that this guy was a deranged pervert who got off from getting the crap beat outta him.
And now you're stuck fighting him. Great. The universe must truly savor your suffering.
Over and over the pattern is repeated—you land a hit on Blade, he kicks you away, he shoves his entire weight against you, lands a hit on you, and vice-versa. His sword doesn't cut you deep enough to be fatal, but the open wounds still fester with your blood. Blade isn't looking much better either, a single harsh bruise upon his cheek where you'd punched him before. His clothes are ripped in various places, his blood staining the cloth. His wounds are healing though, no thanks to that stupid self-healing ability of his. But it's clear that you're still wearing each other down rather significantly, though Blade seems to be recovering his strength bit by bit.
"Fuck, you asshole.." You cough, attempting to keep your body steady despite the throbbing aches all over. If this keeps up, you'll be too exhausted to even block an attack and if that happens you'll—
Just vaguely, you can hear your name being called. A familiar voice, though tinted with a touch of anxiety, is nonetheless filled with concern. It breaks your concentration from the fight, and even if your entire body is screaming from pain and exhaustion, you strangely find it in yourself to smile in relief as you call out his name.
"Da-.."
There is a sudden sharp pressure against your neck, and your vision suddenly spins as the ground seemingly disappears beneath your feet. You feel yourself flying. You can barely even think before thundering pain violently assaults your head and spreads to your back and the pressure around your neck tightens. All you can feel is pain, a newly born headache pounding at the back of your head, and your limbs too heavy to move. It isn't until Blade ducks his face down uncomfortably close to yours that you realize what has happened.
He fucking slammed you against the ground. That flighty sensation you'd felt was just him lifting you up by your throat and then slamming you back down. You stupidly let down your guard and now you barely have the strength to even breathe. Blade watches you, now akin to prey caught by the hunter.
He looks excited.
"He can't save you," he hisses. His smile is like a crescent moon. "None of them can. I could kill you right now and they can't do anything about it. Your final moments could be all mine."
To prove his point, he digs his fingers into your skin, readying to crush your windpipe. Dry wheezes and gasps escape your mouth, and even despite all the pain, you struggle fervently. You are scared, yes, but more than anything, you are angry. If you wanted to die in a fight, you rather die at someone else's hands rather than the bastard above you.
He chuckles, a dreadful sound that pierces your ears. "That's it, keep looking at me like that. Show me everything of yours, (name)--your hatred, your fear, your pain, everything." His grip loosens and you hold in every urge to vomit. You feel sick, sicker than you have ever felt in your entire life.
"Quit... quit talking like you know me or some shit.." You angrily wheeze out. A thick metallic taste spreads on your tongue. Shit, a concussion is the least of your worries now if you're suffering from internal bleeding.
"Oh, but I do know you. I know everything about you (name)," Blade is no longer human to you now. He is a monster, a monster that is enjoying the torment that he assaults you with. "I know what you love. I know what you dread."
The hand around your throat withdraws swiftly, but you can't even try and make a move before your face is cupped, almost tenderly. With your head in place, all you can see, feel, and hear are Blade. He overloads your senses with him. Forcing you closer to him, you realize that he's going to kill you and squirm. He wants you to look him in the eyes as you die—
"I know everything about what makes you human."
Blade kisses you. He doesn't kill you. Blade kisses you, the taste of cigarettes and blood filling your mouth as he hungrily devours your lips. He doesn't kill you, because he loves you so much that he hates you for rendering him into such a love-stricken fool.
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© latimeriafellfromheaven
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jessmaybank · 9 months
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Right here - Rafe Cameron
Based on the song Right here by Chase Atlantic
Outer banks x chase atlantic masterlist
Navigation
Pairing(s): Rafe Cameron x fem! Reader
Word count: 7.4k
Summary: in which a secret friends with benefits relationship gets messy.
Warnings: drug use (weed), swearing, SMUT, fingering, unprotected sex, choking, nipple play, oral (f receiving).
AN: lots of mutual pining, teasing, jealousy & angst. friends to lovers. This is easily my fave thing I’ve ever written. Flashbacks are in italics, enjoy!
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I'm so far from the line, yeah
I'm too deep in my mind, yeah
If she calls, I'll be right there
That's three calls in a night, yeah
“Hey” she says quietly, phone pressed to her ear as she answers his call in the middle of the night, something she still hadn’t quite grown accustomed too yet. her voice sounded so delicate and sweet, it made Rafe’s head rush.
This was the third call she had received from him this week, and it always ended the same. Each time she would tell herself that it was the last, but here she was, tangled within her lilac sheets, unable to let the call go to voicemail. She always seemed to bend her rules when it came to him.
“Hey. Did I wake you up?” He asks, voice tainted with something that sounded like concern, but she wasn’t quite sure. Rafe wasn’t exactly known for his ability to emphasise with others. Rather, his actions were always driven by his own selfish wants and needs, and he was extremely stubborn. That was was something which she learnt the day their arrangement started.
“Rafe, I swear to god, move. I shotgunned the couch” she said, arms crossed as her lips move into a small pout, her doe eyes hard to miss.
Rafe thought the expression was nothing less than adorable, observing the way her eyebrows were furrowed slightly to be more convincing, hoping to get some sympathy out of him. But despite the frown on her face, he knew she was biting back a smile. She liked being teased just as much as he liked teasing her.
The corners of his mouth upturned into an amused grin, something which should of annoyed her further, but it didn’t. Instead, she had to bite her tongue to stop herself from matching his expression.
They were at toppers house, in the midst of a party which had just began to die down, the crowds of young adults sprawled around the large living room getting smaller by the minute. She had no intention of going home anytime soon, and neither did he.
“Not anymore, angel” he says, manspreading on the couch to get comfortable, but also just as a way to tease her further. But once again, the familiar nickname he picked for her, and only her, made it near impossible for her to be mad at him.
They had been friends for a long time now, so in theory she should have been used to it, but she just wasn’t. Every time the word left his cherry red lips, she felt like a giddy teenager again.
She sighs in defeat, tugging on one of the loose threads of his hoodie which he gave her, one of the many endearing gestures which made all the constant teasing seemingly tolerable.
“Stop being greedy and just sit next to me” he says, patting the empty space next to him. His shiny gold rings that decorated his fingers were a stark contrast to the dim light which began to engulf the room as it grew later into the night, and she began to wonder how one mans hands could be so attractive.
Maybe she was being greedy for wanting the whole couch to herself, but she was not about to be criticised by Rafe Cameron himself. He was quite literally the epitome of greed, even if she failed to recognise that sometimes, her delusion towards him a symbol of her naive nature.
She pretended to hesitate before sitting down on the couch next to him, the smell of her sweet perfume invading his senses, throwing him off track. She was the only person who could make his nonchalant nature falter so easy, and the feeling was so unfamiliar to him he almost felt uneasy whenever she was near.
Every time Topper threw a party, she had an end-of-night tradition. She would sprawl across the expensive couch with a blanket, smoke the pre-rolled joint she would bring with her every time, and slowly become one which the couch, her body melting into the white leather. Luckily, Toppers parents were gone for the week this time, so she had permission to smoke inside.
She turned her body, leaning her back against the armrest of the couch, before draping her legs over Rafe’s lap. They weren’t exactly used to such affections at this stage in their relationship, but she was a bit tipsy, and she certainly wasn’t going to let him stop her from getting comfy.
Her squeaky clean converse dug into his thigh a little, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he sent her a glare, and he prayed he put on a good enough of a show to convince her it was real.
“What? I warned you” she said, shifting slightly to retrieve the blanket which was hung on the back of the couch, throwing it over them both.
Rafe placed his hands under the blanket and rested them on her legs, just below her knees, the evening breeze coming through the windows seemingly prevalent. He was a bit cold in his t-shirt, but he would never dare to ask for his hoodie back. He noted how warm she felt as his fingers brushed the bare skin of her legs, and suddenly he wanted to bury his head between them.
She dug her dainty hands into the pocket of his hoodie, retrieving a slightly crumpled joint and a dodgy lighter. Her manicured pink nails made her hands look so fragile, and Rafe couldn’t fathom how one girls hands could be so fucking cute.
She lights the joint, the flame lighting up her face in an orange tint, the warm hue painted over her features a perfect picture to him. He watched as she inhaled and exhaled again and again, and it dawned on him then that he could watch her do anything, and he would never get bored.
“Sharing is caring, angel” he says, placing his hand out in front of her. She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t suppress the small grin which graced her lips, her sweetness practically radiating off her as she passed him the joint, captivated in the way he inhaled before blowing a thick cloud of smoke into the living room, blurring their vision slightly.
Weed always made Rafe a little more touchy than usual. When he’s sober, his anxiety is always apparent in his tensed muscles or his clenched jaw, or the way he always runs his hands through his hair when he’s stressed out. But as soon as marijuana was flowing through him, his mind relaxed, and so did his body.
he’s pretty dazed by the time he passes the joint back. He digs his hands under the blanket once again, running the tips of his fingers innocently across her thighs, relishing in her smooth skin. but the feeling it caused her was anything but innocent.
“Do you mind?” She says, her voice betraying her as it came out shaky. He turned his head, and when she saw the mischievous glint which lay behind his bloodshot eyes, she knew she was in trouble.
He had to poke the inside of his cheek with his tongue to suppress a grin. He thought her flustered state was completely endearing, and he loved knowing the effect he had on her. “Am I distracting you, angel?”
“No” yes.
She hoped she was convincing, but he could see right through her, mostly as he observed the way she drew in a sharp breath as his hands travelled further and further up her leg, her skin tingling at his touch.
“You see, I don’t believe you” he smirks, shifting towards her, his hand stopping right at the hem of her denim mini skirt, fingers dipping under the material ever so slightly, as if he was daring himself to go even further.
“Rafe” she whispers. fuck. His name had never sounded so pretty until it came out of her mouth.
She took another hit of the joint, trying to distract herself from his dirty little games. But the higher she got, the more she melted into his touch.
She sent him a half-hearted pleading look, one which should of convinced him to back away, but unfortunately for her, he could read her like his favourite book, and the way her legs squirmed on top of him, parting ever so slightly, gave him all the confirmation he needed.
His fingers dipped under her skirt, the cold metal of his rings grazing the top of her thigh, cooling down her burning skin. She looked around, making sure no one was paying attention, and relaxed a little when she noticed everyone left was either passed out or too engrossed in conversation to notice either of them.
His lips parted as he made contact with her clothed pussy, coming to the realisation her lace underwear was soaked. His shorts tightened as his cock grew rock hard, and he prayed she couldn’t feel it under her legs, but of course she could.
Her legs squirmed once again as he started toying with her clothed clit, her calf’s rubbing right against his cock, and he swore she was hell-bent on torturing him.
Her eyes fluttered shut as his hand dove into her underwear, running his fingers up her folds, almost groaning as he felt her arousal. The heavy pants coming from her glossy lips were drowned out by the music which played from toppers speaker, and suddenly Rafe wished the room was silent.
The joint fell from her fingers and onto the blanket as he inserted two fingers inside of her, the pit of her stomach heating up as pleasure flows through her, sinking her body further into the couch.
He retrieved the joint with his free hand before it burnt a hole in the blanket, taking a hit before putting the roach into the ash tray next to him. She was shocked at how nonchalant he looked, pretending as if his fingers weren’t inside of her as they sat in a room with all of their friends, at risk of being caught at any moment.
He began to pump his fingers in and out of her, in awe of the way she struggled to keep her eyes open, the bloodshot whites in her eyes making her look even more fucked out. He draped his free arm on the back of the couch as he continued to finger fuck her with his other, and when their eyes met, electricity shot down her spine, entranced by his blown out pupils.
she lifted the blanket to cover her mouth as moans threatened to spill out of her, her legs now spread for him underneath the soft material. He didn’t care that they weren’t alone, he didn’t like the fact she wanted to hide her face from him.
He shakes his head slightly, tutting as he brings his free arm down, pulling the blanket from her face before cupping her jaw. “Let me see you” he said, his voice steady. And as she bit her lip to suppress a whimper, pussy clenching around his fingers, he knew he was in trouble.
“No, I can’t seem to sleep” she says, voice quiet through the phone, but he heard her clearly.
“I’ve been thinking about you today. Can you come over?” he says, and her eyes shut in defeat.
He would always do this, call her up and sweet talk her into coming over so they could fuck. Rafe never gave any of his feelings away, living up to his fuck boy reputation, and so everytime she would leave his house, thinking she was nothing but a warm body to him, she swore to herself she would never let him pull at her heartstrings like that again.
But just like him, her lack of self control betrayed her every time.
She takes a while to respond, and Rafe had to question if he managed to fuck everything up in a 2 minute phone call.
“I’ll be there in 10” she says, her voice sweet like honey, and finally he felt like he could breathe again.
Well girl, what do you think about
Staying right here in bed?
I didn't hear a word you said
I wasn't that high, I swear
Her eyes drifted open at around 8am, the morning sun making her wince as she tries to focus her vision, shifting uncomfortably in the bed. Her movements come to a halt as she feels the weight of someone pressed up behind her, arm draped over her waist and head buried behind her neck.
Her eyes widen slightly as she turns so she’s almost on her back, observing how at peace Rafe looked as he was cuddled up to her, his chest rising and falling every few seconds, the sounds of his breathing relaxing her somewhat.
She must of passed out before she had the chance to leave last night, which happened sometimes whenever they were together super late. Sometimes, by the time Rafe was done with her, she would actually struggle to move, exhaustion overtaking her limp body.
But this was the first time they woke up like this. Usually, she would stick to her side of the bed, and he would stick to hers, abiding by Rafe’s stupid rule of no cuddling, as if it would somehow cure his growing infatuation for her.
He was not a relationship person, and that was something she definitely learnt the hard way. Growing up in the household that be did, Rafe had always struggled with letting people in. His father had made it impossible for him to trust, and whenever he got close, he would bolt, too scared to let himself feel anything.
For some reason, he just couldn’t bring himself to let go of her. So instead, he made a bunch of stupid rules, in the hopes that it would stop him falling too deep.
Peering up at him with tired eyes, she came to the realisation that she would let him do anything to her as long as it meant he was this close. She would let him walk all over her, whatever way he wanted, if it meant she could stay in bed, like this, with him, just for a little longer.
She almost jumped out of her skin as Rose called for Rafe from downstairs, and the moment she could see his eyes battling to open beneath his eyelids, she turned back around, pretending to be asleep.
he shifted behind her as his eyes fluttered open, adjusting to his surroundings. He mentally cursed his lack of self control as he observed the position he was in, but surprisingly, he didn’t move.
Instead, he ran his fingers through a lock of her hair, the sweet smell of her strawberry shampoo making him second guess every single decision he’s ever made. He trailed his fingers all the way down to the curves of her bare hips, before planting a sweet kiss on the back of her head. It took everything in her to remain still, to suppress a bright smile, but she did, ignoring the shiver that ran down her spine at his sweet affections.
Rose called for him again, and he rolled his eyes, but he still just couldn’t bring himself to move. He trailed his eyes to last nights hickeys that were littered across her neck and shoulder, and he realised then that maybe, just maybe, he would bend his rules, if it meant he could stay in bed, like this, with her, just for a little longer.
It's happening again
Well, I don't give a fuck about your friends
I'm right here
Oh, baby, take a look around
I'm the only one that hasn't walked out
I'm right here
His eyes spotted her as soon as she entered his house, seemingly uninterested in the party around him. She looked good, too good, as he observed her appearance. Her summer dress painted her figure in the most delectable way, and her glossy lips looked so succulent he had to hold himself back from kissing her when she sat down next to him.
“You look happy” she says, sarcasm dripping off her tongue as she speaks. The amusing look on her face subsided as she noticed the way he licked his red lips, his blue orbs filled with something she couldn’t place.
She lent back, still facing him, almost touching his arm that was draped over the back of the couch, his fingers close to her shoulder. It took everything in him not to run his fingers along her soft skin, a deep craving to trail his fingers over the freckles littered on her shoulder, and he had to question wether he was starting to go insane.
“You didn’t answer yesterday” he says, taking a swig of his bottle of whiskey, a usual favourite for him.
Is that why he looked so glum? It couldn’t be, it’s Rafe we’re talking about here. So then why did he look so doleful? She was burning to know, but she knew better than to pry when it came to him. So, she tried to comfort him in the only way she knew he would let him.
“Can I make it up to you?” She says sweetly, and that caught his attention instantly, head turning to face her. Her doe eyes were glistening with desire, her organs pumping with adrenaline, and she swore she saw his features soften.
Her sinful thoughts were interrupted by a tap on the shoulder, and she caught the way that Rafe’s jaw clenched at something behind her before she turned around, revealing some touron she met at party a couple weeks ago. If she was being honest, she didn’t even remember his name, but she didn’t have the heart to be rude.
And just like that, she was ripped away from him, the missing warmth from her beside him making his insides twist in the worst way possible as he watched her disappear into the crowd, muscles tensing as he paid attention to how her hands were intertwined with his. Is that why she didn’t answer yesterday? Was she with him? His blood ran cold at the thought, his face contorting with disappointment as he ran a hand through his hair, taking an extra big sip of his whiskey.
He then focused his dull gaze on the empty seat beside him, and before he knew it, time started to slow.
They both sat naked in his living room, her heart racing as she straddled him, arms wrapped tightly around his neck. The sweetness of her cherry lip gloss drowned his tongue as he hummed into her mouth, her insides tingling at the sweet sound as their lips moved together in a passionate kiss.
She realised then that she loved every single sound he made. Even if it was a rude remark, which wasn’t exactly uncommon with Rafe, at least it was something. At least she got to hear him.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you” he mumbled into her mouth, fingers entwined in her messy hair. His voice was low and quiet, but the words pierced through her heart as if he shouted it at the top of his lungs.
She noticed that he would only say nice things to her when they were fucking, and although she didn’t complain in the moment, she always felt uneasy afterwards, his empty words lingering in her mind.
“Yeah?” God. Her voice sounded so weak and fragile, she wished she could just lay on the floor and let the ground swallow her hole. Maybe then, her conflicting thoughts would finally subside.
But Fuck, he loved when she was nervous because of him. Her shaky voice made his lips curl up into a smirk, pushing her hips down in line with his cock, watching her lidded eyes as she pushed herself down onto him, stretching her out and taking him whole.
“Your so fucking beautiful, angel” he moaned, not being able to stop his thoughts whilst he was inside her. In fact, he never could. Whenever they had sex, he would just speak his mind freely, not being able to hold back.
Her moans were full of sin as she began to bounce on his cock, digging her pink nails into his shoulders and throwing her head back in pleasure. He took the opportunity to wrap a hand round her neck, squeezing just the right amount, making sure he didn’t hurt her too much. He brought his other hand up to play with her nipple, pinching on the sensitive skin, and she jerked on top of him, making him smirk.
“Fucking addictive” he mumbles, letting go of her neck and gripping her hair instead, pulling her head forward to look him right in the eyes.
“Don��t say things you don’t mean” she says, clawing her nails down his bare chest, leaving little red marks to replace the old faded ones.
He wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her up and pushing her against the couch, her back sinking into the soft material. “Oh, I mean it”
Her eyes screw shut as he pounds into her, her breathing increasingly unorganised as his nails dug into her hips. His forehead glistened with a thin layer of sweat, his hair sticking to it, and he had to bite back a smile as he saw how fucked out she was beneath him, her cheeks stained with a faint redness.
“I hate you” she says, a sincere look on her face. And if he didn’t feel her pussy clenching around him in that moment, he might of believed her.
“Earth to Rafe” Topper says, waving his hand in front of his face, and he snapped back to reality.
“Jesus man, what’s gotten into you”
He shrugs in response, an unamused look on his face. “You playing?” Topper asks, turning his head towards the circle of people sat in the middle of the room. Rafe follows toppers line of vision, and his jaw clenches. Usually, he doesn’t indulge in party games, but as soon as he saw her sat in the circle, he was making his way over.
She sat with her best friend, Tara, laughing and giggling as she sips on her vodka soda. He sat down opposite her, their eyes meeting, and suddenly it was like they were the only two people in the room.
“Rafe looks good tonight, doesn’t he” Tara says, a small smile painting her features, snapping her out of her daze. No one knew about their arrangement, and so she didn’t really have a right to be mad, but she couldn’t deny the way her heart sank at her friends words.
“I guess” she says, doing her best to mask her jealousy with a bored look, but it didn’t really work.
The games started off innocent, a few harmless truths and dares, but as always, it turned sexual very quickly. Topper was always the one to blame for that.
“Okay, this round is 7 minutes in heaven. You know the rules, if the bottle lands on you, you have to spend 7 minutes locked in a room with whoever it lands on next. No backing out” Kelce says, and her heart began to beat a little faster.
Kelce lent forward, gripping the glass beer bottle and giving it a spin. Rafe looked across at her, observing how her eyes were glued to the bottle as it span, and he hoped to god he wasn’t going to have to watch her go into a room with somebody else.
His thoughts were interrupted as their eyes connected, and confusion filled him as he took notice of her wide eyes. He looked down, and when he realised the bottle was pointed at him, it was like all the colour drained from his face.
People began to cheer around them, topper leaning over to pat his back, but she couldn’t do anything but sit, completely frozen. Kelce then span the bottle again, and her heart sank to her feet as it landed on Tara.
Tara giggled as she stood up, smoothing out her dress with her hands, but Rafe didn’t move, clearly hesitant. He tried to ignore the alcohol induced encouragement from everyone around them, and she had a sliver of hope that maybe he wouldn’t do it.
But when she saw him stand up and begin to lead her best friend into one of the downstairs bedrooms, it was like a dagger straight through the heart. She sat there for a minute or two, in her own world as she pinched herself, over and over again, to stop the tears which threatened to spill out of her.
She made her way outside, pushing through the back doors of the house and into the empty garden, the evening breeze giving her goosebumps. She knew she only had herself to blame, he told her what it was from the start and she didn’t listen, but that didn’t make the pain any easier.
She sat down on the stairs of the outside decking, arms crossed as she rubs her arms, trying to warm herself up. She heard some commotion from inside, and turned her head to see through the glass doors.
Everyone cheered as Rafe and Tara made their way out into the living room, and she struggled to breathe as she observed the way Tara pulled her dress down and fixed her hair, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what went on.
Rafe’s heart sank as he returned, scanning around the room to find she was no where to be seen. His gaze landed on her figure outside, and he didn’t hesitate to make his way to her, ignoring the confused looks from Topper and Kelce as he walked straight passed them.
She didn’t have to guess who it was as she heard the door open, and she shot up, walking towards the pool, not wanting to speak to him just yet.
“Where are you running off to?” He says, a quizzical look on his face as he follows her down the garden, shoving his arms in his pockets.
“My best friend, Rafe, really?” She says, sass laced within her voice as she runs a hand through her hair, halting her movements as she stands right in front of the pool, the moonlight reflecting in the water ever so slightly.
“Nothing happened” he replied, and although he knew she would never believe it, he was telling the truth.
Yes, it’s true, Rafe may be known for having a wandering eye, but as Tara sat on the bed, trying her best to seduce him, he just knew no one could ever compare to her.
“Bullshit”
She scoffs at him, her features contorting with anger as she stares at the water ahead, knowing the second she looks at him, she would give in. “I know that we’re just friends” she starts, ignoring the despair in the pit of her stomach as she cringes at her own words.
“But friends don’t disrespect each other. And believe it or not Rafe, fucking my friends falls under that category” she shouts, her voice raised as she now turns to face him.
“I don’t give a fuck about your friends, okay. I’m right here with you, am I not?” He replies back, his frustration evident in his tone.
He wished she believed him. He wished she knew that sometimes, he couldn’t even sleep at night, too wound up in thinking about how soft her hair was, or how cute she looked in the mornings when they would wake up together, and she was wearing nothing but his t-shirt.
“Yeah, after you had your fun” she mumbles quietly, but he heard it. Something in his mind clicked, and he wasn’t sure why it took him so long, but he finally figured out what was going on.
The corners of lips turned upwards into a shit eating grin, and she swore she had never been so close to punching him.
He takes a step forward, their shoes touching, and brings a finger to her chin, pushing her head up to look him straight in the eyes.
“Your jealous” he says teasingly, his features a picture of pure joy.
“Your insufferable” she says, rolling her eyes, trying her best to be rude even though he was right. But all he could concentrate on was the fact she didn’t even deny it.
Her poker face disappears as he moves her hair off her shoulders, bringing his head down to plant harsh kisses along her neck, biting the sweet spot in the way he knew she liked it.
“Admit it” he mumbles into her neck, his hot breath making her insides tingle.
She debated it for a second, before she decided she had a better idea.
She palmed his cock through his shorts, trying not to get distracted by him as he lifted his head up, mouth agape, his darkened eyes illustrating that he wanted to devour her mercilessly.
And when she knew he was fully distracted, she pushed him into the pool.
Rafe emerged from the rippling water, his wet hair clinging to her forehead, and she couldn’t help but laugh at him.
“I wish I could say I’m sorry” she giggles, bending down and crouching to get a better look at him, ignoring the glare that painted his features.
His glare didn’t stay for long, too caught up in how cute her laugh was. The cogs in his brain turned as his eyebrows furrowed into a thoughtful look, and before she could react, he was tugging on her arms and pulling her into the pool with him.
“Fuck you!” She shouts, almost chocking on the water as she laughs, making sure to splash him in the face.
“All you have to do is ask, angel” he smirks, trailing his eyes down to her breasts, rejoicing in the way her hardened nipples were poking through her dress, like they were begging to be touched.
He swims towards her, skin glistening with water droplets, and she just couldn’t help but stare at him in absolute awe.
He dipped his head down, brushing his lips against hers, lingering there for a moment as he grabs her thighs, wrapping them around his waist and pushing her back against the pool wall. Her hands clung to his wet hair, and as she registered just how heavy her breathing was, she knew she was too far gone.
“Someone’s ganna see” she whispers, unable to concentrate when he’s touching her like this.
“Let them” he says, his voice hoarse. He brought his hand up to cup her flushed cheek, before their lips connected in a sweet kiss.
One draw at a time, yeah
One more, you'll be fine, yeah
And I swear she was right there
The blue glow and the night wear
“Tell me how you want it, angel” he mumbles into her collar bone, trailing sloppy kisses all the way down from her breasts to her stomach.
He had turned up to her house in the middle of the day, not even bothering to phone her. It was rare that they spent time together during daylight hours, but she wasn’t exactly complaining. And as always, it had taken him all of 5 minutes until he had her striped down to her underwear, her black lingerie set making his head rush.
“Slow” is all she says, and he’s a bit taken back, lifting himself up so their face to face again. Rafe was an experienced man, but never has he once had slow sex. She lifted her head into the krook of his neck, planting sweet kisses along his skin and up to his jawline, occasionally biting, but not enough to actually hurt him. He came to the conclusion then that as long as she kept kissing him like that, he would try anything for her.
He hooked his fingers in her underwear, pulling them down her legs and revealing her drenched pussy. It didn’t matter how many times Rafe saw her naked, each time still felt like the first.
He buried his head between her legs and kissed her throbbing clit, before lapping his tongue teasingly over the bundle of nerves, small whimpers leaving her mouth at the sensation. She dug her manicured nails into her sheets, and she could feel him smirk against her pussy.
“You like that?” He asks lowly, even though he already knew the answer. She nodded her head, screwing her eyes shut as his licks got harsher, but remained slow.
He placed one hand on her stomach as he ate her out, looking up at her blissful state, and as she moaned his name, he felt like he had died and gone to heaven.
He pulled away, climbing up her body to meet her face once again, pulling on her bottom lip with his teeth as he lined himself up with her entrance, pushing his cock into her painfully slowly. The pit in her stomach grew heavier and heavier as he stretched her out, and he practically groaned into her mouth.
He started fucking her with slow but harsh strokes, gazing deeply into her eyes, and it dawned on him then that this felt like more than just sex. He trailed his thumb along her bottom lip before pushing it into her mouth, watching as she sucked on it with lidded eyes, and as she looked up at him, she realised that his blue orbs had some green in them.
What he didn’t know, was that when he knocked on her door earlier that day, and she peered at him through her window, she decided that this had to be the last time they fucked. The jealousy and sadness that he brought on her was turning her into someone that she didn’t recognise, and she knew she had to stop before it was too late, before he had broke her completely.
She savoured every minute as he thrusted into her, digging her nails down his back, leaving little red marks. He replaced his thumb with his lips, tongue diving down her throat as she hummed into his mouth, their kiss sloppy as they were both moaning messes.
He buried his head in her neck, biting her shoulder gently as his eyes screwed shut, overwhelmed at how good this felt even though it wasn’t what he was used to.
The feeling was so bittersweet as she let a single tear roll down her red cheeks, tangling her hands in his hair, only now realising that she had fallen in love with Rafe Cameron, and now she was going to have to heal.
Girl, I've been taking it slow
You know I've been taking it slow
You're sitting alone, why are you sitting alone?
Baby, just pick up your phone, oh
'Cause I've been rolling all damn night, whoa
She took a sip of her champagne as she walked through the beautiful flower garden, mentally praising Toppers parents for choosing to get married in such a picturesque place.
Her hair was plaited into two, with daisy flowers weaved into her hair, sticking to the floral theme of the wedding, and her lilac silk dress was accompanied with matching heels.
She walked to the end of the establishment, making sure no one else was around, before retrieving a crumpled up joint and a lighter from her purse, wasting no time in lighting it, staring at all the luscious plants around her as her body started to relax.
She’s interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat, and she almost gave herself whiplash with how fast she turned around.
“Jesus! Has anyone ever told you it’s rude to creep up on people?” She asks, eyes slightly wide as she takes a look at the man in front of her. He stood in a black suit, which she could tell was expensive, and a glass of whiskey sat in his ring clad hand, the condensation from the glass rolling down his fingers.
“Says the one getting stoned at a wedding” he says, smirking as he gestures to the lit joint in her hand.
“Hm, touché. But its the only way I’m going to be able to get through Toppers mums speech. I love Top with all my heart, but that woman is the devil” she says, taking a drag of her joint, watching as some of the loose embers fall onto the floor.
He laughs then, a real laugh, which for some reason melted her insides, and her cherry red lips turned upwards into a bright smile.
All Rafe could think about was how someone as beautiful as her could exist, and he didn’t even know about it. He made a mental note to punch Topper later for not introducing her to him.
“You like daisies?” He asks, and confusion fills her features for a second before she realised he’s talking about her hair.
“Uh, yeah. They were my mum’s favourite” she said, a certain dullness laying behind her eyes. His hands grew clammy as he put two and two together, but he didn’t say anything, not wanting to intrude on the personal life of a complete stranger.
“I like it. You kind of look like an angel” he says, and he clears his throat as he realised what he just said, his forwardness even shocking himself.
Her smile never wavered as he spoke, features lighting up at his kind words, and suddenly she needed to know who on earth this man was.
“I’m Y/N” she says, leaning her arm out to shake his, her dainty arms no match for his muscular ones.
“Rafe” he responds, mirroring her actions, and as soon as his skin touched hers, she had a feeling he was here to stay.
She sat alone in the island club, watching her phone light up as his contact came onto the slightly cracked screen, the small vibrations of her ringtone filling the room. Her head fell into her hands as she sighed, doing everything she could to go against her urges to answer the call.
She had been ignoring him for a few days, trying to detach herself, but every time he called, she got closer and closer to caving. Everything she did was for him, and now, everything she was doing was because of him, and it was so painful.
Rafe was at toppers with the boys, sipping on his whiskey as he held his phone up to his ear, listening to his ringer as the call went to voicemail for the third time that night.
“Fuck” he mumbled, running a hand through his hair as he shifted on the couch, the same couch where he had his first sinful encounter with her.
“Who are you calling?” Kelce says, eyes squinting with suspicion as he looks at Rafe, registering his stressed out state.
“No one” he replies, and it was impossible to miss the look that Kelce and Topper gave each other.
“Rafe, you might think you were being sneaky, but we know you’ve been seeing Y/N for months now. You guys are kinda obvious” Topper says, eyebrows raised as he confesses to his best friend, a small smile on his face.
“Plus, I saw you guys fucking in the pool the other night” Kelce says, and Rafe’s eyes widen.
“Shit” he says, not really sure what to say. For the first time in his life, he was stumped.
“You really like her, huh?” Topper says, always able to know what his best friend was thinking.
Rafe hesitated before nodding his head, taking another sip of his whiskey, rejoicing in the way it warmed his insides and numbed his pain.
“She won’t return my calls” he says, his mind a spiralling mess. He was trying to rack his brain to figure out what he had done wrong, but the more he thought about it the more confused he got.
“you have to make a gesture, something to show you care. Girls eat that shit up man” Topper said, patting Rafe on the back, Kelce nodding along with him. And as he was racking his brain for ideas, one thing did spring to mind.
Oh, baby, take a look around
I’m the only one that hasn’t walked out
I'm right here
She scanned the perimeter as she stepped onto the boat, the salty smell of the ocean wafting through the mid-day air. She spotted topper at the bar almost immediately, making some sort of cocktail concoction, and she couldn’t help but giggle as she walked up to him.
“Your late” Topper says as he spots her, the sound of the blender making it hard for her to hear, but she did.
“Fashionably late” she corrects him, gesturing to her matching bikini, lifting her sunglasses off of her eyes and resting them on her head, her hair cascading off her shoulders elegantly.
“Why am I here anyway? Frozen Margarita’s don’t really seem like much of an emergency” she says, eyebrows raised as an amused look paints her features.
“Oh but it is. I need you to test my recipe” he says, and as much as she wanted to be annoyed for dragging her out here for no reason, a margarita did sound good.
“Can you go get me some more lime juice from downstairs?” he says, and she nodded her head in response, placing her purse down on the bar before heading for the stairs.
The heels of her wedges clicked as she walked down the wooden stairs, heading straight to the downstairs bar. She flicked through the cupboards as she tried to find the desired lime juice, before her eyes landed on a glass vase which sat in the middle of the bar.
She drew in a sharp breath as she gazed at the bouquet of fresh daisies, accompanied by a card with her name on it, and her eyebrows furrowed. She brought her hand up to stroke the fragile petals, and the memory of her mother plagued her mind.
“What the-“
“They were your mother’s favourite” a male voice says, and she didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. “I remembered”
He pulled on her heartstrings as he stood in the doorway, a baseball cap sitting backwards lazily on his head, and a crooked smile on his ruby red lips that she could never get tired of, no matter how hard she tried. She couldn’t believe he remembered such a small detail like that, and she began to think maybe her prejudice towards him was all wrong.
“Rafe” she says quietly, clearly in shock, her doe eyes wide as he makes his way to her, and holy shit, he never really could get over how his name rolled off her tongue so sweetly.
“What are you doing?”
“What I’ve wanted to do since the day we met” he said, and she couldn’t bring herself to do anything but stare at him in awe as goosebumps formed along her tanned skin, melting into his touch as he brought a hand up to her cheek, stroking the skin with his thumb before cupping her cheek in his hand.
“I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick. I’m sorry I made all these stupid rules for us, like no cuddling, or keeping us a secret, because the truth is, every time your near, it takes every ounce of my self restraint not to touch you, or not to tell you that every inch of me belongs to you” he says, wrapping one hand around her waist, pressing her body against his, and she prayed he couldn’t feel how fast hear heart was beating right now.
“I only did those things because I was scared of actually letting someone in” he says, finally letting himself breathe as he paused. “Scared of having to admit that I love you, angel”
She grinned like a cheshire cat as he finished his sentence, admiring the way his cheeks blushed with a faint redness as he poured his heart out, and she swung her arms around his neck tightly, never wanting to let go.
“I love you too” she says, before reaching up on her tiptoes and claiming his lips in a gentle kiss.
“You know i would do anything for you, right?” She whispers against his lips, practically breathing the same air as him, and just like that, his signature smirk was back.
“Well in that case, how about you start with taking this flimsy thing off” he says, pulling on the straps of her bikini top, a small giggle leaving her glossy lips as she playfully hit his arm.
“Gross. Please don’t” Topper says, and they both jumped out of their skin as they spotted him in the doorway, arm leant against the wooden frame with a smug look on his face.
“Jesus! How long have you been standing there?”
Oh, baby take a look around
I'm the only one that hasn't walked out
I'm right here
1K notes · View notes
merakiui · 4 months
Text
crow & goat in courtship.
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yandere!rollo flamme x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, dub-con, coercion, religious symbolism/imagery, mentions of pregnancy, implied breeding kink, obsession, alcohol/intoxication, slight codependency, non-consensual touching/groping, au in which you attend classes at nbc instead of nrc under rollo's supervision note - the crow is always on call.
i. “but each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed. then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death” (james 1:14-15).
Rollo answers on the third ring.
He always does—claims it’s polite to answer after three chimes just as it’s right to knock thrice before entering a residence. He’s stubborn in his ways, a crow bound by routine, only ever doing things in threes. Habitual to a fault, strictly so. You are similar in that regard; you find solace in the familiarity of predictable patterns. The relief that stems from knowing what will come next—in being prepared for all manner of events even if you haven’t yet reached the first.
But then you also like fun, and the best sort of fun is often had with a disregard for habit. Disorder and spontaneity. Throwing all caution to the wind. Trusting in the arms of the crow who will catch you, the carefree goat, when you fall.
“Good evening,” he mutters into the phone, his voice sounding so close despite the distance between you and him. “It’s rather late. Is there a specific reason you’re calling?”
“Rollo! Hey! Hiii,” you drawl, grinning like a fool. You stagger through the door into the chilly, starless night, your heels slipping on cracked, frozen pavement. “Whoa!” You stumble against the railing with a carefree giggle. “Almost lost my footing!”
There’s a stalling silence on his end. And then, with a deep inhale, he asks evenly, “Have you gone out?”
“Mm. Yeah. Went out to celebrate with some friends.”
“Some friends?”
“Like one or two…or a whole house full of ’em.”
“(Name).”
“What?” When he doesn’t reply, you laugh. Not because it’s humorous or embarrassing, but to merely fill the silent gap. “What? Roro, you’re sho stern. Don’t lecture me!”
“So you’ve been drinking.”
“What?! No!” With an offended scoff, you shake your head even though he’s not here to witness it. “You know NBC’s no-booze rule. I’m not gonna get caught—won’t get caught.”
“You slurred your speech and called me ‘Roro’—both in the same sentence, mind you.”
“So what? Rollo, Roro. Tomato, potato.”
“It’s to-may-to, to-mah-to. And—” he exhales an exhausted breath— “Never mind. That’s besides the point. Why, pray tell, have you called me at midnight?”
“Why’re you up at midnight?”
“I could ask the same of you.”
“Not fair! I asked first!”
“Not quite.” There’s a smile in his voice when he speaks next. “If I were to visit your room right now—knock on the door and wait there—would you let me in?”
“Yeaaah,” you start to say, only to catch yourself halfway in the trap. “No!”
“No?”
“No…thank you. No visitors tonight. S’late and I gotta study for tomorrow’s exam.”
“And a party will somehow aid in that endeavor? (Name), you do realize you’ve spun one too many lies and now you’re woefully entangled.”
“Less poetry and more picking me up.”
“Ah, so that’s what this is about.”  
“Rollo, please be nice,” you whine, your lips twisting into a pout. “S’cold and I didn’t bring a jacket and I’m kinda-maybe-sorta a little…”
“A little…?” he encourages, and you can just envision that self-satisfied smirk of his.
“A little-drunk-but-also-not-really-drunk-but-also-totally-drunk,” you hastily admit in a string of syllables. Snowfall swirls around you, and you grasp the bannister to prevent yourself from falling over. “Oh, it’s snowing.”
“I can see perfectly clear from my window. Beautiful, is it not?”
“So stop being an obtuse dick and come get me before I freeze!”
“Should that come to pass, you may just rival the Righteous Judge at the entrance. I’ll be sure to polish you every month.”
“I’m gonna kill you. I’m gonna poison your coffee and watch you drink it, and then we’ll see who’s stiffer than a statue. It’ll be you—in death, y’know!”
“Will you now?”
“If you don’t pick me up, yeah!”
There’s the distinct sound of shuffling. You hear crisp pages turning and then a book closing before the rustling of fabrics invades your keen ears. You picture your responsible friend pacing around his room as he dresses himself for the weather.
“Very well,” he says after a moment, ever the composed gentleman. “Send me the address.”
“You’re the best. Love you lots. Thank you! Thank you!” You press your lips together to mimic obnoxious kissing sounds, which elicits a huff of amusement from him. “It’s not a far walk. Promise.”
“Stay on the phone with me. I’ll be there shortly. And don’t go anywhere.”
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
“You do realize sneaking out is against the rules, yes?”
“Aaand here comes the lecture. Gimme a break. Can’t a girl celebrate her birthday in peace?”
You drag your hand over your mouth and wipe sticky wine residue away. In the process, you smear black lipstick. Dark like night, like a crow’s inky feathers, it leaves your once-flawless appearance in disarray.
“There are much better ways to celebrate. Did I not say I’d take you into town this weekend and we could celebrate then?”
“That’s so far from now.”
“It’s three days away, (Name).”
“Still too far.”
“Don’t expect me to provide cover if you get caught.”
“And you can just leave campus whenever you please?”
“This is different.”
“Yeah?” You giggle into the speaker, warm and fuzzy and endlessly entertained. It’s enough of a distraction to keep winter from seeping into your marrow. “How so?”
“This is official Student Council business.”
“Really?” you ask with an impressed whistle. 
“Indeed. On account of my being President, it’s only natural I punish students who conduct themselves poorly. Shall we review your list of infractions and decide on a suitable penalty together?”
“I’d rather we not.”
“Oh, but I insist. Perhaps our discussion and the cold will sober you and teach you a valuable lesson about integrity.”
With an exaggerated sigh, you lower onto the step to await his arrival. The icy stone digs harshly into your rear, which is hardly covered by your too-short dress. It’s definitely not fingertip length or weather-appropriate. You shiver and stuff your hand into the pocket of your cropped sweater. You should take shelter inside, where it’s plenty cozy and inviting, but your inflated pride disagrees. Retreating to the warmth after you’ve already bid farewell would be foolish. At least, that’s what the alcohol in your system is telling you.
So the goat endures the cold, for it knows that that is all that awaits it as the crow closes in.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m an academic criminal. Get on with it, President Flamme.”
“Let’s see. You’ve disobeyed campus curfew, snuck out on a school night, attended a party when your grades could use improvement, neglected your studies, drank carelessly, called the one person who can and will punish you for this and the aforementioned…”
The sound of crunching snow pierces the air then, and you look up in time to see Rollo approaching. He’s dressed in a long woolen overcoat with a scarf twined around his throat and a hat pulled down over his ears. He smirks at you from where he stands on the pavement, cutting the call and sliding his phone into his pocket. Tilting his head at you, he pulls another coat from under his arm and offers it to you.
“And you’re dressed for your death.”
“Okay, that one’s personal.”
Rolling your eyes, you rise on unsteady legs. He meets you at the stairs, climbing two of them to help you into the coat. It’s an embrace more welcoming than that of a lover’s, so soft and comfortable that it immediately rejuvenates your weary skeleton. It smells like Rollo, too—like coffee and weathered pages in an old book. You hum your approval, snuggling into the fluffy fabric. He’s plopping his hat on your head next, tugging it so far down that you almost slip on the slick stoop. Like he always has, ever since he first met you, he catches you. 
“Hello to you, too.”
You blink back at him. “Yeah, thanks. I owe you.”
“Let me see your hands.”
He takes them in his, runs his thumbs over the tops, and then procures mittens from his pockets. You watch him slide both over your hands, rubbing them together briefly to generate heat at a faster rate. Your body sways, gaze unfocused. He’s just about to unwind his scarf from his shoulders when you reach out to stop him.
“I’m good. This is enough.”
“You’ll catch your death—”
“And you won’t in just a coat and scarf? At least let me give you your hat back.”
He shakes his head, holding his hand up in objection. “You’ve been out in this weather longer. It’s only fair. But, really, did you have to wait out here? Couldn’t you have gone inside?”
“My pride’s on the line.”
Rollo’s unamused stare cuts through you. “You won’t have much pride left if you’re encased in ice.”
“Then we’d best get moving. Campus awaits!”
You wrap your arm around him, clinging out of instinct. Rollo peers at the proximity, his lips upturned in a covert half-smile, and his arm snakes slowly around your waist in return. You don’t notice this, for you’re too busy dragging your feet through the snow while he acts as a helpful crutch, stable in a way you just aren’t. Not right now, at least.
But then the goat is never stable enough to survive the inevitable—the swift, sacrificial blade that befalls and beheads, leaving gory spatters to run red and visceral in the wake of the end.
You’ve never known, and you never will. How could you when he’s been nothing but cordial? A clean slate. Admirable guidance. A helpful friend. Your only friend.
The crow descends in three knocks. He lets himself in regardless of whether you wish to have him as a guest. He is unwanted and feared, the very foundation of death and destruction, and he has set his beady eyes on you—the goat.
It’s common knowledge that you cannot pray away the crow. He persists, as always, quiet even when his wings beat against his sleek, feathered body like the loudest war drums. And the caw—the dreadful caw! It’s a most disturbing cry, one that pierces through the dark like jarring slivers of light in shadow. Or a butcher’s blade through flesh, sawing through sinew to get to brilliant bone beneath. The hoarse call of Death’s crows—they circle in a murder, swooping down to meet you as harbingers of malevolence.
Rollo has always strived to lead a virtuous existence defined by a rigidly righteous moral compass. In the gloomy pits of misery and hatred, where he festers in a bundle of tar-colored feathers, he does not hope for sunshine. He no longer knows the uplifting ebullience of life’s greatest miracles. Because there is no miracle in death or tragedy. Because there is no happiness to be found in a doomed hand, every card showcasing Death and its many forms. Not for him. Never for him.
But then, amidst the despair and despondency, each all-consuming, a goat fell into his lap.
A divine offering to the crow, who is so far from divinity himself, can only mean one thing. It is neither conciliatory nor a reward.
It is a sacrifice.
But then the City of Flowers adores its goats—reveres them for all that they are. Goats are cherished, not sacrificed. But to drag a nameless, magicless goat from the grounds of its far-off, inconceivable pasture—is that not the cruelest form of sacrifice? To drop this goat into the equitable embrace of the crow—is that not the sweetest gift? Generous yet unfair. Plucked right from the folds of another heaven.
The mortal coil can be callous, which is precisely why the crow is permitted to exist in impartiality. Death does not care for who you were in life and who you will be in the next, and the crow only ever oversees finales. Never beginnings. Much like a deity does not care for what good you can do if you do not first adore them in copious adequacy.
The crow carries with him a most fearsome knell—the chime of judgment, to be delivered right on time like an execution staged for noon.
All throughout life, you can plan for the crow and all that he shall deliver, and still you will never be fully prepared to greet him. He brings misfortune bundled in baskets woven from the bones of sacrifices past. In holy scripture, it is the goat who is punished most often—who is slaughtered at the altar, who is arranged as peace to quell the torrential fury of the deity, who is made to suffer at the hands of those hoping to avoid damnation or godly wrath, who is meant to shoulder the blame when no one else wants to. Favors have been bought with the blood of the goat, its head nestled amidst verdant grasses, pure forevermore even when it is dyed carmine. It appeases and pleases.
So it’s just—religiously so—that the crow takes the goat for himself, strips it bare, and proves to the prying eyes in heaven that the greatest sin is more than lustful temptation.
For the crow—for Rollo—the heaviest sin, a vile, cursed burden from his very first breath—it is existence itself.
And only the blood of a pure goat can wash away such filth—can cleanse what has been rotting within. The goat can make a garden out of the crow—bring life and love to its barren insides regardless of however fleeting its presence may be. It is within this garden—within the softest, fertile soil—where the crow shall sow the most special seeds.
You cross the bridge with Rollo, your laughter filling the cloudy sky as you recall all manner of amusing stories from the past few hours. Drinking games paired with drunken gossip. Delicious wines and snacks. A party with an energy so lively it could rival the city’s annual festivals. Even though he doesn’t seem outwardly pleased to hear any of it, he listens well and occasionally stops to steady you before you can topple over the railing into the water below. Your heels clack against smooth, frosted stone, and the wind whips at your face, each snowflake biting and vicious. Noble Bell’s vast campus waits just beyond the wrought iron gate, standing proud and backdropped by the night.
“You think anyone’s up?” you ask, curling your fingers into his arm as he guides you through.
Rollo eases the gate shut. “They might if they hear you. It would be best to keep quiet.”
You pantomime zipping your lips and discarding a nonexistent key. He quirks a small smile at that and then hurries you along. Nights are always peaceful at Noble Bell. The halls are desolate and quiet, devoid of all signs of student life. Your and Rollo’s shoes click in unison as you walk through the hall and past the courtyard. You gaze at the arched openings, counting each one as they become fainter with the growing distance.
Your breath materializes in front of you when you sigh. “I’m so sleepy. I wanna go to bed for a thousand years.”
“You’ll miss your exam if you do that,” he chides, tutting. “And every other exam that will follow.”
“That’s the point!” Your voice bounces off the walls, returning to you in a reverberating echo. Cringing under Rollo’s disapproving glower, you speak softer. “Oops. Sorry.”
“Just how much have you had to drink? You can hardly walk straight without leaning on me for support.” He narrows his eyes, his lecherous gaze crawling down to your bare legs. “Not that I mind…”
His words don’t reach you, for they’re swallowed in a howling gale as it sweeps across the courtyard. You spy the dormitories then, each one looking more like gingerbread covered in confectioners’ sugar instead of buildings dusted with snow. Your eyelids droop while you cross the distance to reach your designated building, your every movement feeling slower than molten molasses, and by the time you’re actually inside the dorm—Rollo’s shushed you more than once—you’re yearning for the warmth of your bed.
So it’s bewildering when, rather than your own room, you stop at Rollo’s instead.
He opens the door and steps inside with you in tow. You keep your mouth shut, too tipsy to think coherently. After he clicks the lamp on, which leaves the room awash in soft shades of amber, he shrugs his coat off, draping it over a nearby chair. You drag yourself over to his bed and flop down, squeezing your eyes shut to block out both the light and your spinning surroundings. Rollo doesn’t say anything, but you hear him shuffling about his room, crossing to close and lock the door before walking back towards you. The mattress dips under his weight, and you feel nimble fingers working to undo the buttons on your coat.
“Can I sleep here tonight?” you ask, cracking your eyes open just as he’s pulling the coat from your person.
Rollo folds it neatly and sets it aside. “You’re practically melting into my bed already. It would be quite the undertaking to make the walk back to your room at this hour.”
“So considerate,” you tease, grinning up at him. Sleep stretches your expression into something dazed, and you yawn loudly. “Then I’m gonna sleep here. Wake me up before class.”
You almost drift off, but those frigid fingers are moving to tug you out of your sweater next. They crawl across your bare shoulders like a spider on a web.
“You really are something,” he marvels, glancing at your body sprawled beneath him. “To brave the cold in such thin material…”
“Stupid choice. I know.”
“It appears we’re in agreement.”
“Shut up,” you snap back with a weak laugh. “You’re no better, showing up so cozy and then giving everything to me.”
Rollo memorizes the way the form-fitting dress hugs your figure. He inhales a shaky breath and brings his hands back to his sides. Your chest is right here. So close. So frustratingly close.
He can’t indulge. He really shouldn’t. It’s unbecoming to show such unfair favorability when he’s meant to remain impartial. Death should not lust for the beauty of life because it only knows endings—or the beginnings of ghostly eternity. The crow should not allow himself to be swept up in tumultuous temptation.
And the goat is the only friend he’s known—the only one who understands the crow, if only by a few meager slivers. But someday the goat will know.
Rollo swallows his inhibitions, beating his urges away with a stick. He’s not one for rash decisions; he’s meticulous and thoughtful. He would never take such a risk—would never nosedive into a crude confession. He’s plotted it in his diary, but it’s never come to fruition. He restrains himself because he must. Because it’s the polite and proper thing to do when caught up in courtship. Because if he opens his torso and allows you to poke around inside, you’ll find that he is not the friend you’ve known for all these months.
He is a fiend, devilishly so, wearing the hide of a goat to put the real one at ease.
Warring with rationality, he slides away from you and intends to recover at his desk. He’ll scrawl all of the things he wishes to do to you in there and that will be enough. That will help clear his head of the intoxicating fog that settles whenever he’s with you in private. But then he’s reaching to untie the canopy draped over his bed, each corner undone within seconds. The sheer curtains fall in thin layers, confining the both of you to this island in the middle of a barren sea. It’s darker in here, dimly lit by the faint glow of the lamp outside.
You blink up at him, owlish.
“You…” He stops himself, shakes his head, and turns away. Hastily, he fishes his handkerchief from his pocket. With this enclosed propinquity, he can smell your perfume. It’s spiced and flowery—alluring and adorable all at once—and it assaults both his nose and mind. “You should sleep. It’s late.”
This is for the best. The crow is only meant to look after the goat, remain unaffected even in the face of lustful, fateful sacrifice.
But you’re here. You’re splayed like a spill, perfectly imperfect, and your shoulders are a canvas coveting kisses. He clutches his handkerchief in a white-knuckled fist.
“Mm, okay. Night…”
“Yes… Yes, good night,” he mumbles, lowering his handkerchief. He swallows thickly.
This is for the best.
But even though he thinks this, his arm is stretching out. Closer. Closer. So close, until his hand is hovering just above your chest. He’s so close.
When will he ever have another chance as fortuitous as this?
His hand closes around your breast and he squeezes it experimentally. It’s soft when his fingers dig in gently, depressing with the pressure of his digits. Rollo’s green hues flick to your face. Your eyes are shut, and soft snores slip from your parted lips. He glimpses your chest again and, with the utmost care, slides your dress down to free your breasts. They’re mostly bare, save for the heart-shaped pasties covering your nipples. Rollo heaves a disbelieving sigh.
“Promiscuous,” he mutters, plucking the edge of the first adhesive and peeling it away to reveal the perky nipple beneath. You look so soft, so clean, so pure… What was he even worried about? No one’s had you before. He’s sure of it.
He’s about to remove the other heart when your voice freezes him.
“What…are you doing?”
He holds your gaze. It’s tense for a moment, unspoken accusations brewing between the both of you.
“A massage,” he blurts, but there isn’t a hint of haste in his tone. He suspected this outcome when he chose to traverse the line of right and wrong—and ultimately sided with the former. Because to him it’s right, even if it’s wrong. He knows what will soon follow: disgust and detestation.
Instead, you giggle. It’s sleepy and silly-sounding, but it’s also light and lively.
You catch his hand in yours and drag it back to your chest. “If you wanted to touch, just ask,” you murmur, your words slurring. “Nothin’ wrong with it.”
You’re not just perfect and pure. You’re everything.
Yes, it’s the alcohol blurring your brain and the intimacy of being trapped in a quiet, comfortable space such as this one that allows you to desire him. Would it be the same if you were sober? He can’t quite say, but he doesn’t wish to know. This is enough. This is paradise.
He kneads slow, steady motions into your breast, and you watch from where you’re lying on the bed. His other hand slithers between your legs to search for your clothed clit. Your breath hitches just as his fingers brush it, and he presses in, rubbing with his index. Your arm falls over your face, and your chest rises with every breath.
“How does it feel?” he asks, rolling your nipple between chilly digits.
“Not enough,” you bemoan, curling your fingers into a fist. “S’not enough…”
“How fascinating. I suppose cheap wine truly does turn you into a pute.”
“No… Was definitely expensive. The fancy kind.”
“Was it now?” He circles your clit, predatory and shark-like, his eyes alight with glee. “You say that, but look at the state it’s left you in. Utterly disheveled.”
“That’s because of—” you gasp, your voice rising in pitch— “because of you…”
His heart hammers in his chest, a resounding, pounding melody.
The City of Flowers treasures its goats, and the crow loves his fiercely even though he shouldn’t.
“Did you enjoy drinking yourself foolish and indulging in debauchery?” His fingers dance along your inner thigh, hooking around the hem of your underwear. “Was it a fun celebration?”
You lower your arm to glare halfheartedly at him. “Someone sounds jealous.”
“More so disappointed, mon chou chou,” he coos, sugary, sickeningly sweet. “Someone could have taken advantage of you. Someone could have tainted you with magic.” His lip curls up into a nasty sneer. It lingers for a moment before fading into something calm. He gazes at you, oddly tender. “That didn’t happen, though, yes?”
You shake your head and flinch when he drags your panties down. Dewy strings of your slick come away with it, and you shudder at your newfound nudity. He hums approvingly and drags his finger through the wet patch staining your panties. Driven by libertine compulsion, he stretches viscous strands of your essence between two fingers.
Your eyes find his deceitful greens once more. Silence sparks between the both of you, quickly broken by your exhalation. Rollo kneels before you, taking in the sight of you as your face wavers through the stages of consideration. Upon arriving at your conclusion, you sit up slightly and shuck your dress over your head. And then you’re lying back, shaking your panties from off your ankle, and wrapping your legs around his waist to draw him in closer. 
You grin, coquettish. “Why not search for yourself if you’re so worried, Mr. Student Council President?”
There’s no turning back. Not that he ever would. Not when the goat’s given him the signal. The blade doesn’t fall, but he does.
And this is better than dreams and erotica. This is real.
He surges forward to fit his lips against yours. Sloppy and inexperienced, he molds himself to your body. You tug him against you, your hands working to undress him. Clothes and shoes are cast aside between open-mouthed kisses, torn off half-buttoned and ripped away from soles. You breathe him in, gasping into his mouth. Translucent strings of saliva connect your mouths when you part, soon broken when you lean in for a chaste peck.
“You’re okay,” he says, the words practically bleeding onto your own tongue with how close he is. “Still as pure as the day I first met you.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“The best thing.”
His third and fourth fingers prod at the depths of your pussy, pressing inwards. Shallow at first. He watches your face unblinkingly, burning every pleasured contortion into his brain, and slides his thumb along your clit. Your breathing staggers, coming in quick huffs, and you grab at the bedsheets to steady yourself. Rollo works you open on those fingers, curling and scissoring in equal measure. The slick squelches join in the salacious symphony you’re currently producing. Every sigh and groan come together in perfect harmony. You’re a heavenly harp, and he’s plucking your strings like an expert musician.
“Tonight is unforgivable,” he adds, and you blink through blissful tears to view him. “Folly is the worst distraction.”
“Then be stupid with me,” you joke, running your hands over his shoulders. He’s so cold. “Warm yourself with me.”
And he will because he’s always wanted to. He’s desired it. Craved it. Coveted it. Thought of nothing else for days and days, each delusion so cyclical it often felt tangible.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, sliding his other hand up your hip and towards your rib. He traces the path of where it lies beneath layers of flesh before pressing down to feel it. “So beautiful…”
Your hand glides into his, fingers twining like silken thread around a spool. A lopsided smile lifts your lips, and you preen under him. “Yeah? Am I really?”
“I wouldn’t lie about the obvious…” Your walls hug his fingers tighter then, and a shiver electrifies your nerves. He hums again, quite pleased. “Oh, did you like that?”
“I did. Very much.”
Lashes fluttering against your cheekbones, your head thrown back in ecstasy ever-mounting, you render him ensorcelled. Like a prized Renaissance nude, a goat laid to sacrifice in the crow’s nest, you are beatific. Divinely so.
“Allow me to reiterate then.” He hastens his pace, pumping his fingers relentlessly. You tamp down a shameless moan. “You’re exquisitely beddable. A work of art. Enchanting. Une belle femme.”
You’re nearing the edge—very gradually, but not quite—and so it’s devastating when he slips his fingers out, each one thoroughly coated in you. They shimmer in the dim light, reminding you of where they had previously been.
“Put it back in,” you beg with wide, glossy eyes. “C’mon… Please don’t stop now. Was so close. So close and—”
Your complaints are curbed when you follow his hand as it moves to wrap around his half-hard cock. He strokes himself thrice, using your slick as lube, until his cock is curving up against his stomach. You stare at him; he stares right back.
And then you realize he intends to go all the way.
“Wait, Rol…lo… S’not my safe day,” you say, shifting away. Whether impatiently or anxiously, he can’t tell, but he can certainly guess. Your world spins once, a dizzying blur, before it promptly clears. In the very center of your vision, as he’s always been, Rollo remains. “S’not safe…”
He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling with levity. “I know.”
He’s kept track, dutiful like always.
You attempt to crawl out from under him, but he stops you. Your stomach churns.
“I’ll pull out in time,” he promises, rubbing soothing circles into your plush hips.
Even with the alcohol still buzzing through your system, you aren’t convinced. “N-No, really, we should stop here…”
“You’ll feel so good. Come now, aren’t we nearly there already?”
Rollo lifts your legs onto his shoulders. You squirm with more determination this time, but his fingers dig into your thighs. With a startled squeak, you sink into the mattress, cowed into submission.
“We… We can’t.”
“Why not?” The smooth, soft head of his cock prods curiously at your pussy.
You chew your lip, admitting in a meek tone, “I… I could get p-pregnant…”
“Pregnant,” he parrots, tasting the word as if it’s a delicacy he has yet to sample. His cock twitches. “Pregnant…”
“So… So that’s why…”
“Do you not want children?”
“I… Well… Now is kinda…”
He presses onwards, sinking in slowly. Your breath hitches; your heart stumbles. The intrusion is not entirely unwanted, for your slick, snug walls cling to his shape, and you almost give in to bodily inclination. But it doesn’t feel right. You’re scared. No matter how naturally your body reacts, you don’t want this.
“Rollo, wait—”
“It would be a wonderful thing—to see you rounded with my children.” Rollo props himself on either side of you, his body pinned to yours in sinful, sweaty connection. He exhales a deep breath, restraining himself as he pushes deeper. Patience is a virtue, after all. Your expression tightens with discomfort, and so he peppers your face with placatory kisses. “To see you grow in and—mmh—out of the most flattering maternity wear. To behold every change that blesses this beautiful body of yours… To see you swell with my love, filthy as it may be. Ah, but pregnancy is just as messy… Nevertheless, it shall be a special bond for us—a sacred vow, if you will. We are connected here—” he punctuates this point by slotting the rest of his length inside, and your legs involuntarily close around him to keep him there— “and soon here when life develops within.”
One hand splays across your stomach to pat it with fondness. You choke on your helpless whimper when he rocks his hips once, experimenting with the movement. It’s awkward, but it reminds you that he’s inside. So close to your womb that in just a few more thrusts he might—
“No… No, please… Rollo, you have to—oh—have to pull out. Please pull out. Don’t wanna get pregnant…”
“Oh, but you would be so beautiful.” He breathes you in, savoring sex and floral fragrance. “If I’m allowed one miracle—just one for all the anguish I’ve endured—let it be this.”
You know not of what anguish he speaks, for he’s never verbalized it, but even so it can’t possibly be so agonizing that it would warrant such invasion.
The vise-like hold your velvety walls have on his cock is deliciously addictive. He groans while he ruts into you, his eyelids fluttering. He could be animalistic and cruel in his movements—ravish you as if the world is faced with annihilation and this is his final hour—but instead he settles for exploratory leisure. His hand fits into yours and he squeezes it gently. A feeble protest builds in your throat and so he swallows it with a hungry kiss, his mouth molding against yours.
Your nails dig into his shoulders when he draws back and slides in again, filling you deeper than before. You breathe between kisses, panting and licking into his mouth in even intervals. He does much the same, anchored to you in a way that is both temporary and yet so permanent.
The world narrows down to this single sliver of space, enclosed in a canopy. And in it, laid bare and fertile, the goat is sacrificed to the crow. Death cannot reach either one here. There is only the promise of new life, thrust upon the goat all at once.
You don’t have the willpower to object, for you’ve already found yourself entrapped, so instead you cry. Tears track down your cheeks; your mascara runs with it. Ruined. So, too, is your pitch-black lipstick, smeared along the edges of your lips and printed onto Rollo’s porcelain skin.
Rollo’s hips stutter to a halt and he holds you against him when he spills thick and hot inside. Nothing is wasted; it’s all emptied deep within. If you’re lucky, it won’t take. But if some mischievous fertility goddess has cursed you, you’ll wake nauseous in the coming weeks.
If you have anything worth praying for, it’s the former.
The both of you are panting in the aftermath, but only one is coming down from his glorious high. You remain unsatisfied, your peak not yet breached. Rollo rolls his hips once more for good measure before easing out. You crumple into the wrinkled sheets, frigid and still as a statue. Carved empty and hollow, yet stuffed with sin.
The crow has come. Though this time the gift of tragedy is something between boon and curse.
— — —
The curtains are drawn to let in sunlight. It filters in through frosted glass, each pane stamped with snow, and it blinds you the moment you try to open your eyes. You twist and turn in bed, feeling heavy with hangover. A splitting ache cracks your head in half, and you groan loudly.
“Fuckin’ hell,” you hiss, digging the heels of your palms into your eyes. “This sucks…”
You force yourself to wake after two more minutes of rolling around. Groaning once more, you sit up in bed. The canopy has been tied back in place, and when you glance sidelong at Rollo’s desk you notice something. A glass of water and a plate are waiting for you, seeming more enticing by the second. You throw the covers off, realize you’re nude seconds later, and promptly snatch them back. They’re wrapped around you like a comforting cloak. You stagger out of bed to check the contents. Two croissants, a single orange, a dollop of strawberry marmalade, and two tablets are arranged on the plate.
Hangover medicine, you realize, lifting one up to scrutinize it.
You peer around the room. It’s empty. And then you see the clock. It’s a little past noon.
“Oh,” you mumble, lowering into the chair. You clutch the blanket closer. “Rollo must be in class.”
Amidst the piercing migraine, which you quickly resolve by throwing your head back to swallow both tablets in a single gulp of water, two things occur to you. You’re in Rollo’s room. Naked. In Rollo’s room. Surely you must have spent the night after you returned from the party. Why are you naked?
But more importantly…
“Shit! My exam!” The excitement doesn’t help your current state, and you slouch in your seat, even more exhausted than before. “I completely missed it… Rollo’s gonna kill me.”
You scrub the sleep from your eyes and reach for a croissant, content with giving up. You don’t want to endure the walk of shame from Rollo’s room to yours. If anyone were to catch you, they’d certainly be left wondering.
As you nibble on the croissant, admiring the way Rollo’s arranged the contents of his room, you spot the edge of something beneath the plate. Perplexed, you push it aside to reveal a note. Penned in Rollo’s effortlessly pretty script, it reads:
I’ll forgive your transgression just this once if you’ll forgive mine. For now, get some rest. I’ve left breakfast here. Stay for however long you’d like.
You scowl at his attempt of ‘breakfast,’ and your stomach rumbles in dissatisfaction.
“Right?” you say to your stomach, clicking your tongue. “If anything, this is hardly a snack.”
But you’re grateful for his efforts. He cares. He always has. From the very first day you found yourself in this world, he cared.
While you peel the orange, pondering foggy recollections of last night, you begin to realize just how sticky you feel. As if someone’s slobbered all over you and left it to dry. The feeling persists between your thighs.
You pause momentarily, overcome with an uncanny sense of panic as you piece the puzzle together. The still-forming picture does not look good.
“Shit…” you whisper, haunted with a fragmented timeline. “What the hell did we do last night?”
You know. The deep, dark part of your brain knows, but you don’t want to confront it. Because Rollo wouldn’t, right? He couldn’t. He’s always done what’s best for you, so he wouldn’t.
Right?
618 notes · View notes
spamgyu · 2 months
Text
urs // Mingyu Series - Part 1
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"the best at being the worst... but fuck sake I'm already yours"
DESCRIPTION: she and mingyu were in no place to be in a relationship. she was his best friend's stylist and he was... well he was kim mingyu; something stable was not something that was ideal for the two – not when their careers are both at it's peak. PAIRING: idol!mingyu x stylist!reader GENRE: angst WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol, implied smut, stubborn protagonists, so many red flags you would think this is a football game, features the love of mingyu's life (jungkook) and all his other besties
NOTE: if you read INFRUNAMI, no you didn't. this has the same-ish vibes BUT this is the re-written version. many events, actions, and overall plot has been changed. (even if the intro/first part is very similar)
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"How was LA?" Mingyu asked, rolling off her bed; reaching to put on the black sweatpants he carelessly discarded earler. It was nearly a month and a half since he had last seen her, been with her, and he was desperate to feel her touch.
He allowed her to greet him with a quick hi before he scooped her off the ground and carried her over to her bed; doing what they knew best.
"Eh." She shrugged, also gathering her items off the floor – dressing herself as if she hadn't just allowed him to ravish her body like an animal that hand't been fed for days. "It's not as hectic since I only have one of them to work with."
She was referring to their mutual friend - the God sent human being that introduced the two. Not that his intention was for his group's stylist to have this arrangement with his best friend, no - he was simply being polite.
It was in good manners to introduce two strangers to one another, especially in a setting that required socializing. Y/n did her best to maintain a professional distance between her and Mingyu; she was just a stylist after all.
Of course, she was only successful for about 6 months and once again it was all thanks to his best friend.
Having to spend nearly every waking moment with the seven boys; y/n couldn't help but develop a friendship with them. Sooner or later she found herself being invited to more parties, dinners, and casual hang outs where Mingyu seemed to always be in attendance.
Somehow, the brooding tall boy of one of the famous boy groups that was slowly making it's way to the top of the charts, had charmed his way in to her pants. She wasn't complaining, of course.
The sex was good. Amazing even.
She was just a girl with needs.
Needs which just happened to have been met by someone who should have remained untouchable. Not just for the sake of their friend group but her job.
There wasn't a clause in her contract that forbid this, some staff members in their very large company having their fair share of flings and relations with idols that seemingly played off being single to the public. It was more of her own choice, not wanting to do anything to jeopordize the once in a lifetime chance she had managed to land herself as BTS' stylist.
Through her title of four years, she had managed to not only secure a well paying job but opportunities throughout the fashion industry – slowly making a name for herself.
Y/n wasn't just a nameless stranger credited at the end of albums, along with other staff members. Those late nights steaming garments, prepping for shoots, and 15 hour work days were finally paying off.
"That's good." Mingyu hummed, taking a seat on her bed - leaning back as he watched her go straight to her suitcase.
Unpacking as if nothing had happened.
The two have gotten very accustomed to their arrangement; having it been nearly a year and a half since they made the agreement of being friends... with a heck of a benefit.
But of course, there were set rules to their agreement.
Despite wanting to keep their actions as completely physical, she and Mingyu cared deeply for the friendship they had managed to develop in the four years they have known each other.
These set rules were put in place to ensure that their friendship will remain intact if they so decide to go off and find their own happiness or satisfaction elsewhere.
Simple as that.
RULE 1: Let either one know if they are planning to sleep around or date - for safety reasons. RULE 2: No kissing outside of sex RULE 3: Keep things platonic outside of the bedroom. No flirting, no obvious touching, nothing that will make others uncomfortable. RULE 4: No feelings.
It was very easy for the two to stay within the boundaries of these rules, considering how busy they were with their careers. They had no time to catch feelings - despite their friends' warnings that this could end badly.
They were dumb but they weren't stupid. They were well aware of the consequences of their actions.
"How's comeback prep?" She recalled him mentioning this during one of their late night calls a few months back after one of Mingyu's schedules; claiming he couldn't sleep and no one else was awake to entertain him.
"Exhausting, we're doing twice the amount of practice because of our world tour."
"Oh yeah." Y/n paused, looking up from the items she carelessly discarded into her bag the day before. "When's the first show?"
"Three weeks ago." Mingyu chuckled.
This was a typical conversation between the two; especially when both of their schedules become equally as packed. He had no expectations for her to know his every single move, the same way he rarely knew what city or project she may be up to at the top of his head.
And if Mingyu was being honest, he was happy with this. They had no obligations to one another – not having to worry about anyone's emotions, what they were doing, having to give updates on their daily life.
It was low maintenance.
Just what they both needed.
"Which reminds me," Mingyu shifted in his place, digging into his pocket to pull out a small black box; earning a raised brow from her. "Here."
"Are you proposing to me?" She took the box from him, hesitantly opening it.
"Ha ha." He rolled his eyes. "Minghao and I were at a second hand store by the hotel and I saw those and it reminded me of you."
It was a vintage silver chain bracelet with two charms hanging off it; a key and circular pendant - a rare Gucci x Tom Ford collab to be exact. She had a knack for silver jewelry, especially stackable ones with multiple charms hanging off of them.
Minghao was on a hunt for a leather jacket that night, claiming that Japan had one of the best thrift stores for 2nd-hand designer items. Mingyu allowed his friend to drag him along on his little shopping trip, under one condition; dinner was paid for.
With no other member interested in browsing endless rows of clothing racks, Minghao agreed to Mingyu's terms.
Little did he know that it would be Mingyu that would score the best find of the night. It wasn't that he planned to buy her something, he was simply taking a glance at the glass case and there just happened to be something that looked like it would match his friend's style.
"How much was it?"
He waved her off. "I make what I paid for that in just two minutes."
She grabbed the nearest sweater she had just folded; throwing it at him with a laugh. "Dumbass."
"No but seriously, it was really cheap."
"Thank you." She smiled, getting up from the floor with her arms open wide.
Mingyu leaned away, laughing. "Ew, are you trying to hug me?"
"Come on, don't reject my love." She grabbed his arm and tried to pull him up. Key word; tried. "Stop working out so much, you're too strong!"
"That's the goal, y/n." He refused to give in; flexing his bicep in attempts to loosen her grip.
"Are you- You're so insufferable." She let go of him.
Once their laughs subsided, they fell into a comfortable silence; Mingyu scrolling on his phone while she continued to unpack. He had no plans of leaving and she had no plans of kicking him out.
Mingyu and y/n didn't care to admit it, but they missed each other. After all, it was normal to miss your friend.
They didn't know how or when but somehow, in between the stories Mingyu told about his group's impromptu time in Rome and sharing her excitement for the new fall collections that were set to debut during Paris Fashion week, they found themselves cuddling. Her head rested on Mingyu's chest while she watched FRIENDS for the upteenth time whilst Mingyu watched the rough edit of their new music video - his free hand absentmindedly playing with a strand of her hair.
This wasn't breaking the rule; they were in the bedroom.
This was technically part of the benefits they agreed on.
"What's your plans for Chuseok? Is your mom flying in?"
She didn't grow up in Korea and had little to no family left in the country; making holidays like these isolating. Being a 2nd generation immigrant, she didn't have the slightest intentions of moving her whole life to Korea in the first place. But somehow, she was back in the same country her grandparents left to seek a better future for their family. Who would have known that the future of one of their grandkids was back where they began their lives together.
Y/n shook her head, silently answering his question.
In previous years, her mom made an effort to fly in to visit her and celebrate Chuseok and Christmas with her. But with her grandparents growing older, and due to her recent schedule alignment, she didn't see that it was necessary for her mom to visit for such a short amount of time.
"I'll probably just fly out around Christmas time." Her eyes trained on the television.
"Want to spend it with us?"
She raised her head and gave him a look. "Because that went so well last year."
Her mom left a day earlier than planned the previous year, leaving her to spend the last day of Chuseok alone.
Somehow Mingyu caught wind of this and invited her over to have dinner with his family. This of course sent his mom and sister over the moon; thinking and thanking the gods and saints that he finally brought a girl home. Despite Mingyu and her explanations that they were in fact just friends; the teasing and gawking went on until the two left.
"I'll tell Minseo to cool it with the teasing."
"Maybe." That earned a smile from him. "I said maybe! Jungkook and I are flying out to LA for another shoot right after, I might just spend the time getting the pulls ready for it."
He raised his brows. "All three days?"
"I also have to assist with Tae-"
"All HYBE staff have Chuseok off."
"Office is closed but I have keys." There weren't any rules about stopping by the company if it was needed. She was on salary after-all.
"Come on, you know you like my mom's cooking." He sang. "You haven't had a home cooked meal from a mom in a while."
"Maybe."
"Hard head." Mingyu rolled his eyes. He knew there was no winning when it came to convincing her to do something she wasn't too keen on doing.
For someone who worked in a fast paced industry that was constantly changing, she was very much someone who was not too fond of spontaneity. She needed structure, and she was definitely someone who had a 5 year plan written down in a notebook or her notes app.
Her job was the only controlled chaos she allowed.
"Butt head."
・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.
"You look happy. Did you come from a special someone's place?" His best friend teased as he opened the door.
"None of your business." Mingyu playfully rolled his eyes at his friend; kicking off his sneakers before reaching down to pet the large dog happily waiting for him.
"Oh but when you want to know when we'll be back in Korea, it's all of a sudden my business." Jungkook chuckled, handing him a glass filled with a light brown liquid.
"Exactly." He smiled, taking a sip of the warm liquid. "Eugh, why is it warm? You have all this money but can't afford a working fridge?"
"Fuck off. It was cold earlier but you took too long to get here."
Mingyu received a text from Jungkook inviting him over to drink and hang out.... 3 hours ago. He meant to open the text, he really did - but he became a little too invested in Monica and Chandler's attempts to hide their relationship from their friends and completely forgot about the multiple notifications he received from his friend.
It wasn't until y/n received four consecutive text messages from Jungkook, begging her to share his best friend that he missed very much, that Mingyu realized he had left his friend on delivered. She practically pushed him out the door to get him to leave, claiming "He won't stop bothering me until you show up."
"My bad. Monica and Chandler are sleeping together." He took a seat on the couch, taking another sip - ignoring the temperature of the drink.
"Oh great, more friends that are fucking- Do people not believe in relationships anymore?"
"Hey how does your song go again? I wanna see it in motion, Monday Tue-"
"I got it. I got it." He interrupted his friend's medley of his two new singles. "You know, you and y/n are starting to have the same sense of humor, it's making me sick."
"Don't you like that? It's like I'm with you even if I'm not."
"I hate that she said the same thing to me." Jungkook grumbled. "Please, just date and put me out of my misery."
"Won't dating make it worse?"
"So you've considered it."
Mingyu shook his head at his friend's quick remark.
He wasn't boyfriend material. He was busy, barely even having time for himself; dating was definitely not in his cards right now.
Especially not with someone who he has grown very fond of. Fond; in a purely platonic way, of course.
Mingyu has tried dating before, and they all lead to heartache and headache; his busy schedule always being the root of the problem. He grew tired of fighting the same fight with different people and vowed that the next time he tried dating would be when his professional life had fully slowed down.
But with the current trajectory of his group's career, it seemed as though this was not in the cards anytime soon.
And Mingyu was perfectly okay with that.
Besides, he had y/n.
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@thegirlwhoimagined @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @f4iryjjosh @akeminy @yonabutnotyuna @tacosandbitch @vanillacheol @aaniag @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter @xbaekcult @alwaysalmostthere @ashkuuuu @morkswatermelonnnn @isabellah29 @lottogyu @bubbly-moon @lllucere @bo-fairykim @bubbly-moon @pluviophile-xxx @daegutowns @jenoxygen @niktwazny303 @aahvii
(for some reason it's not allowing me to tag some who wanted to be added to the perm tag list ... cries... pls check ur settings so i can for future posts)
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zavithorpe · 1 year
Note
Suffocating kink with zavi with reader sitting in his face,don't tell me he doesn't like that i don't make the rules.(Need a fic with this im begging🙏🏻)
“I said sit,” you boyfriend’s stern voice reaches your ears.
Furrowing your brows, you glance down at him. He looks comical, face flushed and wide eyes staring right up at you from where he’s lying down. He’s right between your bare thighs, waiting for your goddamn cunt to leave him breathless but of course you have to be stubborn about it.
“Since when do you tell me what to do?”
“Since you finally gave in and said you’ll sit on my face.”
“That doesn’t give you the right to- ah, wait!”
You yelp because his actions take you by surprise. He’s already had his arms looped around your thighs, large palms resting on the smooth flesh. But you didn’t expect him to push on them until your ass is planted right on his face, pussy touching his gaping mouth.
“Xavi, w-wait-“ you try to plead, utterly embarrassed by being so exposed.
He doesn’t give a damn. He’s been dying to do this for months, has always attempted to get you to this point but you’ve always been too demure to go along with his plan. This time, he’s had enough. He won’t stop until you cum on his face.
“No more waiting. Please stop writhing and just relax. Just sit on me,” he pleads but you can’t even see him talking. He’s completely buried between your thighs, nose nuzzled into your clit, mouth on your tense cunt and chin between your ass cheeks. The latter happened only because he parted them, currently groping the smooth skin between his fingertips as he groans.
You can’t see it but he’s hard and leaking pre-cum. He’s so fucking turned on he can’t even think straight. You can tell by the way he starts licking you, like a starved man who’s having his first meal for the first time in years. His plump lips kiss and nibble on your labia, his tongue tickles your fluttering hole and his nose rubs your clit.
“Oh god,” you breathe out, one hand holding the bed frame while the other one flies down to grip his hair.
“That’s right. Ride me,” he mumbles from underneath and you do as you’re told. Finally, he thinks.
Using the grip you have on his silky locks, you start moving your hips back and forth. It’s done tentatively at first but it doesn’t take long until he aids your actions, kneading your butt and gently moving it in all the right directions. His active participation gives you the needed confidence to take more control of the situation.
Resorting to the leverage you have on his hair, you start gyrating your hips. Still rather bashfully, but enough to satisfy both of you. Xavier would prefer you suffocated him but he’s willing to wait and get you to that point.
“Just use me,” he pleads after a few minutes, growing tired of begging you to make his face your seat.
He maneuvers you back and forth, left and right, over and over again. He does it until your moans grow in intensity, until you strip yourself off the bashful attitude. Thanks to his incessant pleads and actions, you eventually get past the point of being embarrassed. And so, you finally let all your weight rest on his face and the groans he lets out tickle your cunt in ways you can’t even comprehend.
That’s when the fun really starts, he thinks to himself as you finally grip his hair with all your might and fuck his face. He wonders if he could cum untouched or, better yet, how long it’s going to take until he gets to do that. Not much, he thinks, because he’s never been so turned on. The lack of oxygen makes him babble uncontrollably but it’s all the better for you. The vibrations of his voice bring you closer to your orgasm and so does the fucked out look on his face. You can tell he’s a mess every time he struggles to catch his breath.
“I haven’t even touched you and you’re moaning like that. If only you could see and hear yourself. What a slut.”
All he does is whimper in response and you can tell he loves being used and degraded like that.
“‘am close,” you mumble, letting him know he shouldn’t move.
But he does, suddenly sucking on your clit. The impromptu action makes you squeal but it’s nothing compared to his two fingers plunging into your sopping hole from behind.
“Xav- no,” you beg but can’t stop yourself from rubbing your cunt over his face.
You lock eyes for a few seconds, his lips latched onto your clit as he looks up at you with the most disingenuous innocent look ever. The little shit knows what he’s doing.
“S-stop.” The grip you have on his hair grows tighter when you beg.
He doesn’t and starts sucking on the swollen nub with all his might, fingers expertly fucking into your fluttering hole as you get closer and closer to the edge. You’re trying to fight his fingers off but he’s one step ahead - gripping your wrist with his free hand and, because of that, you come undone on his face.
Translucent liquid spurts out of you, landing on his face and he opens his mouth to catch it all, although it drenches his hair and the pillow underneath. You don’t even notice at first, too lost in pleasure and rocking yourself on his face and fingers. But, as soon as you open your eyes, you realize that you’ve actually squirted on your boyfriend’s face. The shit-eating grin he sports makes you blush profusely.
“I hate you.”
“I love you,” he responds wholeheartedly, albeit completely out of breath.
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earthtooz · 1 year
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·˚ ༘ MIKAGE REO BF HEADCANONS
warnings: fluff with angst + argument scene, mostly fluff tho but reo grovels bcthat'sjusthowilikehim, swearing, cw for food and alcohol, making out, hickies, sfw tho :p, 4k+ word count, gn!reader and pro soccer player!reo
a/n: I AM SOOOOOO NORMAL ABOUT HIM GUYS I PROMISE HAHAHA WATCH ME. WATCH ME *proceeds to write 4k+ words of what it'd be like dating this man*. enjoy <3
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💳💥💳💥 100/10 BOYFRIEND 💳💥💳💥 ARGUE WITH THE WALL.
sorry i just really love him (a lot).
anyways ! personally, i’ve always perceived a friends to lovers sort of situation with reo- friends. as in, he’s liked you from the get-go and was never shy about vocalising it. he often asked you out on dates and you’d kindly reject his offers.
despite your countless rejections, it never deterred him. lucky for reo that you didn’t seem to mind much, happy to spend time and be around him despite his blatant showcases of affection for you. 
reo was fuelled even more when you constantly turned him down, loving the ‘push-and-pull’ relationship surrounding you. his whole attitude surrounding fighting for things he wasn’t handed to at birth hasn’t exactly dwindled with time, proving apparent even now as a pro-soccer player. 
this meant that he loved how stubborn you were, declining his invites no matter how tempting the offer might have been. could have been a free meal- his treat, at a michelin star restaurant and you turned it down without hesitation.
to reo this only made you more worthwhile to chase because ever since he could remember, he's had the frustration of only being appealing to people because of his wealth. he got use to it after a while, coming to terms that his name would just be synonymous to money, but to have someone break this mould felt liberating.
selfishly enough, he wanted to be by your side forever.
(you were in love with him too but thought he was way out of your league) so yeah. ‘friends’. 
when you finally accepted a date after so long, reo was ecstatic. couldn’t hide how enthused he was when he finally heard the word ‘yes’ slip through your mouth. literally picked you up and spun you around, stuck in his little world of delirium and happiness for a few moments as you laughed with him, admiring his expression of pure elation whilst trapped in his arms. 
he was raised with proper gentlemanly etiquette so definitely a few dates before anything big happened with him. 
reo is absolutely the kind of boyfriend to memorise milestones. i kid you not, he has the date you finally agreed to go out with him memorised. it’s on his phone’s calender- he will always gift you flowers on this day that serve as a little reminder. when you ask him what’s the occasion he’ll shrug and act all nonchalant. maybe he’ll come clean about it one day, but for now, reo will savour how happy you are every time you receive a beautiful bouquet from him.
he’s the definition of down bad and he’s not at all ashamed to let you know. you had his heart in a chokehold before you even started dating can you imagine him now… like yo… what spell did you put on him.
must be the water he drinks because not even you know how reo got to the point he is at now.
bf that opens door for you, bf that understands the sidewalk rule and won’t have it any other way, bf that carries things you might need around - chapstick, hairtie, reo even has a change of shoes for you in his car just in case. and clothes!
bf that looks at you as if you put all the stars in the sky. bf who wakes up a little earlier just so he gets the chance to hold you, especially with how busy reo is. bf who admires you openly and freely.
‘don’t go where i can’t follow’ bf (he’s so dramatic).
reo is a mix between clingy and independent - he’s always open to spend time with you, but if it’s space you want, he’s more than ready to give it to you.
has no problems entertaining himself and not worrying about whatever you might be doing. he's not controlling and in fact, loves a partner who is independent too!
100% a gentleman so expect a lot of gifts from him. never lets you pay- not that you’re complaining, but if you even think about fishing out your wallet, he’s grabbing both your wrists in one hand and tapping his card on the machine instead. 
it’s a slow relationship, you’re both just trying to take your time to learn more about the other before things begin speeding up, and even though reo has been wanting you- wanting this for the longest time, he’s content with the pace. so long as he has you. 
the photos of you two are INCREDIBLE. mirror selfies are a must, but you’re definitely the kind of relationship that’s more on the private side. reo makes sure that your face is hidden save for side-profiles, silhouettes, or ¾ angles, but it’s just for media peace of mind that he was taken.
that said, if you’re going to an event together, he absolutely loves showing you off. your ultimate hype man.
also loves bringing you up whenever he can. ‘how’s practice?’ ‘oh amazing, i love going home to y/n.’, ‘what’s your favourite cheat day meal?’ ‘one of y/n’s childhood favourite dishes, i have like five plates in one sitting’, ‘where’d you get this from? it’s nice’ ‘y/n saw it in a magazine’.
asks you to move in with him five months into the relationship when you both realise you’re over way too often. when there are too many trinkets of yours left around his penthouse that his heart aches at your absence, yearning for your presence through little things that are attached to you.
reo gets so ecstatic when you accept, practically scoops you into his arms, unable to contain his excitement and glee.
ABSOLUTELY the couple that’s like ‘your secret is safe with me… and my partner!’ 
gossip sessions are a weekly occurrence. every saturday you sit down and begin revealing everything. doesn’t matter if you have a party to attend to, you will be gossiping at the party or leaving early to have it at home. you could literally be having a shower and reo would join, seated atop the toilet seat whilst rambling and you’d listen intently.
nothing comes in between your gossip sessions!!! don't even think about interrupting. nagi is more than welcome to join, he knows quite a bit of tea himself so ;) the more the merrier in his case.
chigiri, bachira, and isagi are also all-time favourites. ALL THREE of them are nosy ass fuckers and cannot keep their mouths shut.
it’s like the second you walk into his apartment, he’s giving you a kiss in greeting before sitting you down on the couch, hands and legs pressed together and he begins with ‘i have more to tell you about otoya and his fling’.
and you immediately throw your stuff away and lean into his couch, ready to listen.
speaking of parties, you would absolutely be that couple. the ones who always look flawless and will never be caught lacking !!!!!!!
he’s so proud to be able to walk by your side; that he’s the one who gets to hold you and show you off. so proud in fact, that he never likes to stray too far from you. 
could be doing shots with bachira and stumbles around to find you when he’s done. you have the time of your life filming him in this drunken state. 
definitely had the ‘only my partner is allowed to touch me’ conversation with him once. 
reo is the definition of all five love languages, there is not one of them that he does not like - words of affirmation? absolutely. a must. . physical touch? he’s not ashamed to be needy. gift giving? who do you think he is? acts of service? loves doing things for you and vice versa. quality time? can never get enough of it. 
so yeah. sticking to his ‘thing’ about being a chameleon, he’s very adaptable and willing to listen to your needs.
(i’m going to throttle him he is so perfect)
also reo just really really adores taking care of you- those he loves in general too, but especially you because you’re at the top of his list of favourite people (suck it, nagi)
takes care of you and loves doing so too. whenever you’re sick, he’s at your beck and call 24/7. if he has a meeting or practice to attend, you have to literally force him out of the apartment, threatening him to go but as soon as he returns, he’s back at your side, probably came back with a bunch of things for you as well.
if you take care of him though? goodness he’s ready to pop the question even though you’ve never even discussed marriage.
suddenly cough medicine is a lot easier to drink if you’re the one offering it to him, and the soup you made him must have super healing properties because he thinks he can jump up and run a few hundred laps (goodness reo, please, sit your ass back down and rest). 
OKAY HEAR ME OUT ON THIS ONE: reo never learnt how to drive because he’s always had a chauffeur, but since dating you, he’s had to get a licence lMFAOOOO let you pick out his car too xoxo such a considerate boyfriend 😣
he suggested as a joke to get a personalised number plate and even though he was clearly goofing around to make you laugh, you couldn’t help but sense there was some sort of truth in his statement… just a slither.
also reo’s definitely the slow-dance in the living room kind of guy like… not a lot can change my mind on this. 
you could literally be putting away the dishes and he’d drag you by the wrist into the living room- he bought a vinyl player just so he could turn on some romantic songs and slow dance with the love of his life. 
he’s not a good dancer btw.
HE LOVES SHOPPING WITH YOU. 1000/10 BOYFRIEND TO GO SHOPPING WITH, doesn’t mind being your personal coathanger when browsing and also doesn’t mind carrying any bags you may have. 
it’s cause reo loves shopping too. loves it even more if you think about him whilst shopping. you could go buy some home appliances and if you returned with the silliest hat with bunny ears and he’d wear it for the next few hours.
return with (expensive) necklaces of each other’s initials and reo is never taking his off, proud to wear the letter of your name around his neck at all times.
takes it off during practice though because if he broke it then goodness is he going to go emo. 
no date with him is a boring date! partly because he’s a considerate and thoughtful person who plans everything out, but also because reo’s company is a fun one to have. every moment with him is fun (except when he’s checking his stocks. you’re kinda left to just wait for him to finish).
(that’s also an ick- that he checks his stocks on dates but whatever 😒he still gives you attention though so it’s fine)
adores going out and staying in! prefers going out though just so he can show you off but also hates going out because he loves to see you dressed up only for him. he’s a perfect paradox.
speaking of staying in, off days with reo are very domestic. you both promise to use this as a work-free day, reo can’t check his business statistics or stock patterns and you’re not allowed to answer any calls or emails. he is allowed to workout though and you have quite a bit of fun blatantly admiring him. you're too comfortable with each other at this stage to get embarrassed.
but other than that, the day is just spent lounging around and doing nothing- a nice reset from how hectic both your lives are.
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“there are still some chocolate chips left. wanna snack?” you ask once you put a tray of cookies in the oven, going over to see how many pieces were remaining in the bag.
reo hums, wrapping his arms around your figure, his sturdy chest meeting your back as he plays with the fabric of your shirt. “sure. might as well finish them.”
“bet you can’t catch 10 in a row with your mouth.”
“okay. bet.”
he ends up catching 12 successfully and the rest of the waiting time is spent with you throwing chips into his mouth. there’s a heap of chocolate on the floor but neither of you really mind when the home is warmed with laughter and giggles.
when you wait for the cookies to cool, you somehow end up on the counter with reo in between your legs, holding you closely to him whilst making out to pass the time. the cookies are cold when you get to them.
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reo’s jealous. like very jealous. and a little (lot) possessive - do you see the way he is with nagi… c’mon. 
but it comes from a place of good intentions, he's genuinely just in disbelief that he managed to bag someone like you (as if he's not a one in a million too)
he’s very into hickies ;> doesn’t matter if it’s on you or on him, it feeds into his possessiveness all the same. ok next headcanon. 
reo’s got a little bit of an ego to him (he’s a leo. ofc he does) so he secretly loves it when people fawn over him, but not just exclusively you. 
which has been the cause for quite a bit of arguments between you where you were uncomfortable because of the way someone was treating reo and he’d dismiss your concerns, stubbornly rooted in the belief that you knew that you were different. definitely thinks that his love and adoration for you makes it obvious that you’ll always be superior to anyone else. which, you are, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt when you don’t see him brush off anyone.
genuinely doesn’t see the issue with this, even when the media is being invasive and speculating too much.
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it’s loud.
it’s so very loud, tormenting you as the hurricane of your thoughts can’t seem to quiet down, rattling even stronger as you keep scrolling through the ‘#reo mikage’ tag that was currently trending. each time you see the pictures, your chest constricts even more.
unbelievable how a bunch of pixels could have this much of an effect over you. how your phone mockingly presents several photos of reo and one of japan’s golden models spending time together at multiple events, the headlines only worsening rising assumptions. she’s all over him in each photo, whether it be decked out in formal gear at a promotional event, after a dior runway where reo was invited backstage by the creative director, or- most recently, at a brunch he was invited to by blue lock friends, she seems to love invading his personal space.
the worst part is that he doesn’t seem bothered at all by it.
you know reo and you know how much he valued your presence in his life. you know that before each event, he asked you how his outfit looked and if you approved. before each event, he threw a mini-tantrum over you're inability to accompany him to each one. that he only stopped whining when you promised that you’d be waiting for him after each one.
but you don't know the feeling of betrayal that settles in your gut and it terrifies you.
“y/n?” comes a voice from down the hallway, one that causes your breath to hitch in your throat, all words lodging themselves in your windpipe. reo’s head appears from behind the bedroom door frame and he smiles widely upon seeing you, immediately walking over so he could lean down and place a kiss on your forehead.
it doesn’t do much to stop the tornado in your brain. 
“are we going to watch the latest episode or what?” asks the purple-haired, whose doe eyes are looking at you so innocently- so lovingly. 
“we are,” you whisper, voice slightly broken and ragged, turmoil settling itself crystal clear in the heavy air of your shared bedroom. 
reo notices your pained tone and immediately looks at you with concern gleaming in his eyes. “what’s wrong?” 
so innocent. so ignorant. you wonder if it was appropriate to shatter his purity. but a relationship rooted in honesty will have more positives than negatives and even if it seems like being open with him will be detrimental, you should fix the cracks now before it worsens; splits apart too much to the point of it being unfixable. 
“pictures of you and a model are circulating online,” you mutter, scouring through what’s left of your sanity to express what you’re feeling, but you can tell you’re already failing through the perplexed scrunch of his eyebrows. “and y’know, it just got me-”
“-why are you looking at them?”
you flinch at his defensiveness. “wh-what?”
“you know that they’re just some pictures, don’t you? it’s not that big of a deal.”
something’s telling you that this conversation won’t progress how you want it to so you give up, dropping your shoulders in defeat. “okay, sure.”
he’s not happy with your response. “what? what did i do?”
“it just feels so… horrible looking at these,” you mutter, dragging a hand over your face. “whatever. let’s just go watch the episode or something.”
“let’s not. are you seriously pissed right now? over some photos of me and someone else? i didn’t think you’d be this insecure.”
“i’m not insecure!”
“yes you are! you’re getting angry and upset over me being seen with someone else as if you know they’re nothing more than just a friend! am i not allowed to hangout and be seen with whoever i want?”
“it’s not a matter of being seen with them, reo! it’s about how okay you seem being that close with someone! she’s practically all up in your personal space and you’re okay with it!”
“why wouldn’t i be okay with it? you’re the only person i actually care about for it to mean something.”
“that’s not how it works!” you exclaim abruptly, curling your hands into fists. “it’s so disrespectful seeing this, it’s clear that she has no respect for our relationship and our status as a couple, can’t you see?”
“why should we care what she thinks? everyone else knows. ‘s all that matters.”
“sure, but she’s actively trying to pursue you! and you’re not doing anything to solidify any boundaries against it! do you know how demeaning that feels? especially against someone who is so well-known by your fans too.”
reo narrows his eyes. “so this is a conversation about insecurity-”
“you’re not listening to me!” you cut him off, trying to maintain your composure despite the way anger and frustration brewed freely in your stomach, threatening to spill over. “i’m not insecure! i’m upset because you’re not valuing our relationship publicly, and as a result, it’s stirring up so many unsolicited assumptions online!” 
“you shouldn’t care about them because i only have eyes for you, fuck what the internet is saying.”
“no- that’s,” you ball your fists even tighter, “that’s not the solution to this problem!” 
“then maybe you should just get over it!”
“is asking you to be a little more assertive about brushing off people like this too much?”
“it’s natural, y/n! these people just want me for my fame and reputation! there’s no point brushing them off when they’ll just continue this shit,” there’s a hint of insincerity in his tone, and from the way he’s evading your request makes your stomach churn.
rubbing your temples, you decide to surrender. “fine. if you just want people to fawn over you then they can. just, leave me out of the picture.”
swiftly standing up from where you were seated on the bed, you’re even faster brushing past the purple-haired, shutting the door behind you with a noncommittal slam.
realisation pours over him like cold water and he’s awoken into action. immediately, he turns to rip open the door and rushes into the hallway, panicked as fear strikes him like a lightning bolt. it’s like the rational side of him had finally woken up after a night of dormancy and he curses himself for its horrible timing as he prays he can make it to stop you in time. 
reo feels stupid. so, so stupid.
you’re in the living room already when he catches up, phone in hand as you quickly try to make a beeline for your shoes before your boyfriend can stop you.
unfortunately for you, you’re too ambitious, and reo manages to step in front of you, hindering your exit. the anxiety he’s feeling is expressed clearly in his eyes and devastation is plastered all over his face, a sight that makes you stop in your tracks. 
“where are you going?” he whimpers, no louder than a whisper.
you glance down at your phone to see the time. 10:41. “away. i need to cool my head.” 
“you can do that here, can’t you?” he’s trying to sound sensible, really, he is, but the fear of losing you is too strong that his voice cracks. “i’m sorry, i’m really sorry, i was being stupid and i wasn’t listening to you, i realise that now-”
“-it’s too late for that,” you grumble, trying to sneak past him only to be stopped by a hand on your shoulder, one that you brush off. “don’t touch me!”
only a few, simple words yet they hurt reo like spears to his heart. his palms itch with the need to hold you because being able to feel you would remind him that you’re here, that you haven’t left just yet. that reo still has a chance to fix the mess he just created.
“i’m sorry, i’m really sorry, you're right.”
you probably don’t want to hear it, but he grovels nonetheless, contracting his fingers to stop them from reaching out to you. he doesn’t want to make you feel even more disrespected than he already has tonight, especially when you so clearly stated that you didn’t want to be touched.
“don’t go,” the purple-haired pleads weakly. “we can figure this out.”
“so now you want to talk about it?” you ask, all ounce of pettiness you had left melting into your tone. you to cross your arms. “i’m tired reo, and i need some time.”
“i’ll give you time, space, whatever you need, just please don’t leave.”
the penthouse is so quite and devoid of its usual vibrancy, the one that your relationship brings to the home.
reo doesn't want to think about what the place would be like if you leave. he doesn't want to think about what his life would be like if you leave, so he repeats 'please' over and over again, scrambled with some apologies here and there as he leans closer to you.
the urge to be as close as you'll allow him is irresistible.
the breath you exhale is shaky and you can’t look him in the eye as you think about what to do next, gnawing your lip in contemplation. what captures your attention is the feeling of his fingers ghosting over your hands, causing you to glance back at him with a surprised expression.
traces of love frame his expression and he’s looking at you like he’s savouring this moment, as if it'll be his last few with you, but he can only plead and pray that that's not the case. desperately, he succumbs to the force of his affection for you with the light thud of bone meeting floor. it’s a sound that makes you cringe briefly before reo experimentally takes your hands in his, waiting for a reaction. 
there is none.
so he holds on to you like a lifeline and your resolve crumbles, fury and irritation melting away a lot quicker than you would have liked it to. it’s ridiculous what reo’s capable of.
“stay,” pleads the purple-haired, resting his forehead in your hands as he tightens his grip. “please.”
in front of you is a man on his knees. not just any man, but a world-class soccer player who came from 24k gold, real diamonds, and an unfathomable amount of trust funds. yet, something's telling you that he's willing to give it all up for you.
“reo,” your call of his name is broken and entirely wobbly, but he looks up at you nonetheless, eye shining as he waits for your next move. waits for either a strike of the palm or an affectionate kiss, both of which he’d readily accept. 
neither happen as you sink down to be eye-level with him, hoping to help him stand up but like a tidal wave, he consumes you, wrapping an arm around your waist with a strength that indicated he had no intention of letting up. “reo,” you delicately repeat, holding yours and his weight up with one hand whilst the other goes to play with his hair. “i’ll stay.”
the sigh of relief that he releases causes his whole body to shudder. “thank you,” he whispers.
you’ll talk about your problems soon, but for now? you'll continue holding him as he silently weeps, hands clutching your sides like you'll disappear and slip away from his grasp.
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yeah. i think reo would be the type of person to get too overwhelmed by his own emotions and ego that he doesn’t consider the other party's feelings, but the moment that he realises he’s fucked up, it hits him like a truck. 
has abandonment issues (from nagi) that he never addressed and as a result, has a huge fear of losing you. 
that said, this argument ^ happened within the early stages of moving in together so this was probably the first big argument that really established how important communication is. sure reo may be confident and assured, but he’s self-aware and more than willing to change and constantly better himself, especially if it’s for you.
back to your regularly scheduled hc, reo doesn’t spend a lot of time on his phone, so he’s not very active on social media. he’s too busy attending to his stocks, reading business books, and spending time with you to care about the internet, so a lot of drama that circulates around online doesn’t reach him until two weeks later.
not that he cares LOL.
speaking of social media, here's what his private account looks like!
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yourlocalfinancebroreo close up that the love of my life took
yn: smash ╰┈➤ epicgamerseishiroooh pls no horniness on the priv ╰┈➤ yourlocalfinancebroreo hmu cutie xx ╰┈➤ epicgamerseishiroooh guys pls ╰┈➤ yn nagi what the 😭😭
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OH AND he’s so interested in all of your interests. listens intently and rambles passionately, he truly is just perfect :( 
anyways, encourages anything you want to do and is often the one who helps you make the terrifying jump. reo supports you so much in your day-to-day and whatever achievements you accomplish, no matter how big or small, he wants to hear about it from you.
never shy away from being honest with him!!!!
also because the support you show him makes him so happy every time. whether it’s showing up to a soccer match and cheering him on to dropping off some tea and a platter of fruit when he’s stuck in front of his monitor for too long looking at big numbers, he wants to reciprocate this energy and make sure you know just how special you make him feel.
the whole world could be praising him yet none of it could compare to when you do it.
y/n and me vs the world forever type of beat when it comes to you two. 
yeah. i think that’s all i have for now. so, to sum it up: PERFECT, INCREDIBLE, AMAZING, ALL YOU COULD EVER ASK FOR boyfriend. give it up for mikage reo everyone <3
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tmnt-narratives · 10 months
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𝐂𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐞
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𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 : 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐓𝐎 @yanteetle , 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐀𝐑𝐓
𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭, 𝐬𝐨 𝐈 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐭.
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You sat on your phone scrolling through tumblr once more, reading posts and hearting each cat meme you came across. You were absolutely bored out of your mind.
You had nothing to do, school was out. And all of your friends ditched you. It's not really ditching if they just disappeared. Ever since you've been spending more time with your friends, it was like you were putting them in danger.
No matter what, even if you were just chatting in a grocery store. They would always end up going missing. Maybe they didn't ditch you, maybe you were just a bad luck charm.
Maybe you were the reason why bad things happened to you and your family. Maybe thats why you've been getting random letters in your mailbox.
You never dared to open them, since you already had a partner. Who was called as missing, the police never really did much about anything. You'd always file a report, and the police would suspect you immediately. Since you have been going to the station for some time.
It was reasonable, since they did see you about every week or so. You'd always claim someone close to you was missing. And the police would always close the case. Like it was absolutely nothing, all the online files were gone. Every single piece of evidence. It was just..
Removed from existence.
And it hurt you. It hurt how it felt like your friends and family were treated and shut down, without any justice to whoever was doing this. Like there was no way of getting them back.
They just belonged to the void of death, and you couldn't do anything to bring justice to their names and their families.
Why couldn't you just figure it out yourself.?? You didn't know why, because every single time you were close to something. It would lead to Donnie.
Your best mutant turtle buddie. And every single time you would ask him a question, he would always shoot it down with a simple.
"No, (Name). I don't have anything to do with your bestfriend. I'm a mutant turtle, they are a human being in broad daylight. I would get caught if I moved out in daylight."
It was a good reason, but still. It always led to him. Nobody else, just Donnie. He was a tech wiz, he was a mad scientist, he could rule the world basically.
But he said he had good morals, and that he wasn't trying to be a villain or anything evil. Or that's what he told you. Something it your guts told you to turn away from Donnie.
That something isn't right, that he was lying to you. And he was manipulating you into spending more time with him. You wanted to trust those thoughts. You really did.
But your heart was stubborn and didn't want to listen. It told you Donnie was perhaps the person you needed the most. The person- er.. Mutant you could rely on the most.
But your gut kept telling you to turn away, that those feelings weren't real. That you were being forced to be thinking those feelings.! Like you were under someone else's control, like a puppet.
But you didn't want to listen. In your eyes Donnie was the sweetest angel ever, and that he would never hurt a fly or even try to. He was just the most smartest and gentle "bad boy" you could ever meet.
But even after you lost a bunch of people you were close too, Donnie stuck around. That's why you could depend on him. And this very night, you had enough of crying and suffering awful guilt. You decided to visit Donnie at night, knowing he told you not too.
But you were in pain, and you needed him. So you didn't care for that warning, not at all. Even if he wasn't in the mood, just a simple smile and assurance from him would be good.
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You eventually made your way to the lair, and enjoyed the peace and quiet in the lair. Splinter was passed out on his sofa, allowing soap operas to play in the background as he slept.
And you could hear some snores from down the hallways, most likely Raph or Mikey. Either one could have been snoring, and a few chuckles came from Leo's side of the hallway. He was probably watching Youtube Videos until he fell asleep.. again. It was unhealthy, yes. But you did the exact same.
You made your way through the halls, with your blanket and slippers on. It was chilly and warm at the same time. Which you didn't know the reason to.
You heard tinkering through the hallways, and you knew it was Donnie. He was always up during the night, and he always ran off of coffee in the daytime. But when you were around, he didn't run off of coffee.
He was actually energetic when you were around. He had to look his best around you, he didn't want to look like an overworked fool. He wanted you to see him as the person you'd want to trust him with your life.
And to his surprise you were actually very naive, which was an advantage to him. You couldn't pick up on the signs of his over-protectiveness.
"No (Name), I'm just making sure you're safe.! These trackers have a good reasoning.!"
"You should drop them (Name), they seem to toxic. They don't deserve you."
"You shouldn't be interacting with them when you have me.! I'm way much better than them."
All those words he would say would never reach your brain, you were just too naive. Too naive to believe he was a good person. Too naive to realize he would place bugs in your bedroom and coats. Too naive to even think he would watch you through new york city's cameras.
As you finally reached Donnie's lab, the tinkering sounds got louder and louder. As some loud scribbles were heard too. He was working on something. Something big.
You entered the lab, unknowingly to Donnie who was still working on something while muttering about something. Whatever he was working on at his desk, it seemed important and dangerous.
You called out to Donnie, mostly because you were tired and sick of having to deal with all the pressure on your shoulders.
"Don.??"
"(Name.).?! What are you doing here.! I told you not to visit the lair at night or for the past two days.!"
"I know.. I know.."
You rubbed your eyes tiredly, you had red eyebags and puffy eyes. It was easy to tell you were currently crying before you came down to the lair. Donnie noticed, and he calmed himself while seeing you in this state.
Sure he was a bit mad you didn't listen, but he saw you were in a emotional crisis. And even if he wasn't the best at emotions, he wanted to be the only one you loved. Him, and only him.
His expression softened and he cleaned out his desk. Doing his best to hide whatever he was previously working on.
You stared at him in confusion, as he looked back and raised an "eyebrow" at you.
"Well..?? Aren't you going to tell me what's wrong.? Or do I have to ask."
You made a genuine smile, and snickered. Donnie knew how to cheer you up. He knew basically everything about you. Which was pretty scary, but you didn't question.
"It's just.."
"Just.??"
"I feel like a stupid bad luck charm Dee.! Like I can't be around anyone without them disappearing.. I've tried so many times to file missing reports. But.."
"But.??"
"The police say the files just disappear online, making them close the case. And.. And it's all so heavy now that it's all on my shoulder.! I can't even sleep at night without being so stressed."
Donnie nodded, and You continued to rant. He was a good listener, and was also good at acting and defending his case. Which made him look like an angel towards you. But a devil towards your other loved ones.
" Alright. C'mere.."
"Wha-"
Before you could finish, Donnie pulled you into a hug and started to rub your back in a comforting way. You really needed that. Your heart was fuzzy, and your head was just out of control.
Cuddling was a friend thing yes, but this was different.
While cuddling, he handed you a small rubix cube to fiddle with. It was mixed, and was an easy distraction for you as he worked. You were so grateful to have him as a friend..
Was he really a friend though.?? He didn't seem like it. Like he was much more to you in his eyes, and you weren't just a friend to him. You were like an obsession he would never let go of.
You stopped sniffling and smiled trying to move, and apologize for coming to the lair so late when he was busy.
"Dee, I'm sorry I've disturbed you. I just needed to see you. I'll go now since you're working.."
As you tried to move, Donnie didn't allow you too. He wanted you and him to stay like this for awhile. Just for a while.
"Nope, we can stay like this for a while. Let's stay a little longer like this.. Just a little longer."
And you both did, you stayed in this cuddling position for awhile before sleep began to overcome your senses. And your head rested on Donnie's shoulder as you stopped fiddling with the rubix cube.
Donnie was very pleased with this. Very pleased. He was just relieved you didn't pay attention to the shock collar blueprints, and base he was specifically making for you.
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956 notes · View notes
beomcoups · 7 months
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Middle Of The Night
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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ex-boyfriend!San x reader
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: lil fluff, angst, smut, fwb, pwp
𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: R (18+)
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: kissing, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex, carrying, doggystyle, swallowing, facial, multiple orgasms, reader is stubborn as hell
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 2.4k
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You are on an annual girl's trip with one simple rule: no men allowed. But it's the middle of the night, you are lonely and it so happens San is nearby. Maybe you will give into temptation with a chance of being caught, but it'll be well worth it.
𝐀𝐍: I was listening to "Middle Of The Night" by Monsta X and it made me want to write something loosely based off of it. Thank you to @the-boy-meets-evil for taking this up for me at the last night 💞.
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It’s 2:06 a.m., and you can’t sleep. Your body is restless, your mind thinking of a million things per second, your heart beating fast as you hold your phone. You send him a four-worded text message, knowing it’s not a good idea. But your body wants what it wants. Can you come over? You set your phone down, pacing back and forth in your room for the weekend as you await his response. When it comes to love and stupidity, it goes hand in hand for you. San isn’t the guy that you can be with long-term. You’ve been there, done that many times, yet when it’s late and you feel lonely, he’s the first person you call. Your phone buzzes a few minutes later, and you eagerly read his response. You don’t need to ask. I’m on my way.
A smile spreads across your face, and you hurry into the shower, scrubbing yourself clean with your favorite scrub that smells like brown sugar and vanilla. You hastily dry and lotion yourself, throwing on a pair of jogging shorts and a white T-shirt. San was only thirty minutes away; you didn’t want to keep him waiting. You’ve done this song and dance enough times that you don’t need to get all fancy just to see him. He’s always liked you however you want to be. This is supposed to be a girl’s only week with your best friends from high school. You take an annual trip with each other every year, making a pact to travel the world together before you settle down and get married. You took care of the travel arrangements, Shayla was in charge of the food, and Gia took care of the entertainment. You might have booked this place because you knew he would be nearby on business, but you will never admit to that… out loud anyway.  You peek out of your room, listening to hear if anyone else is awake; the only thing heard is the wind chimes swaying on the balcony. Thankfully, the rooms are nowhere near each other, so you can sneak San in without being caught. Carefully closing the door, you plop on the bed, waiting for the minutes to go by. You purse your lips together, trying to suppress your silly grin but failing miserably. He gets you excited like no one else can, and every time you want to leave him alone, one of you ends up reaching out to the other. You wouldn’t know what to categorize your relationship besides friendly exes with benefits. It’s complicated. 
Your phone buzzes in your palm, and you swipe up your screen, sitting up quickly. I’m outside. 
The anticipation of seeing him gives you chills all over. You sneak out to your balcony, looking over the ledge and seeing him park his car. He steps out with a white tank and grey jogging shorts, looking comfortable in black slides as you two make eye contact. His soft smile and awkward wave bring you back to the first time you met, rubbing shoulders with one another on a train headed to the city. “Hey,” you whisper. “I gotta sneak you in because it's girls' week.” San chuckles, knowing all too well what girls' week entails and how your best friends would have your hide if they knew he was here. You quietly leave the balcony and your room, tip-toeing down the hallway until you reach the door, letting him in quickly.  “Hi,” his murmur melts you like butter. “I missed you.”
“I know you did,” you taunt, touching his lips. 
Kissing him was like a forbidden sin, something you knew you shouldn’t be doing, but the instant gratification you felt was well worth it. Walking backward to your room, you clumsily open the door, falling on top of each other in the bed. Your hands caress each other’s bodies as you explore one another, taking off every article of your clothing. You look at him, remembering a deep affection you once had for each other that could’ve been great. A past that seemed so long ago, but here you are, entangled in bed with him.
“Is that a hot tub?”
You nod, following his gaze to the balcony, looking at the private hot tub that came with the master suite.
“Do you want to get in?”
You hop out of bed, naked and thankful that you forgot to turn it off. You slowly exit the sliding door, dipping your toe into the tub first before going right in. You feel San entering behind you, holding your waist as you guide him to the middle. The heat from the tub was no match for what you two felt for each other, the hellfire passion taking over your bodies. He grabs a handful of your ass, his slender fingers sliding to your front until they settle on your clit.
“You’re going to have a hard time being quiet tonight,” he says lickerishly.
“Oh yeah?” you smirk. “Show me.”
San groans and lifts you out of the tub, setting you on the edge. He opens your legs wide, wasting no time as he goes in on your hot sex, hungrily lapping at your sweet heat. You bite your lip as a weak way to muffle yourself, your hands grasping his hair tightly. He makes you feel so filthy and sexy, willing to risk getting you caught with his head in between your legs. He sucks harder on your clit, your arousal dripping from the corner of his mouth, and you can longer hold back. You call his name repeatedly as you ride his face, your release coming hot and heavy. 
“I want you to cum for me like a good girl, okay?” He commands, slipping two digits inside your wet cunt. “Can you do that for me?” You nod quickly, your body tingling and legs shaking as he thrusts his fingers deep inside you. “I need to hear you say it.” He grunts. “Say you will.” San returns his lips to your throbbing clit, flattening his tongue against it, a trick he knew would make you undone. “Yes!” You cry out. “I will.” Your entire body shook from your release, your hand covering your mouth to hide your screams. San groans in your center, licking you clean until you can’t take anymore. Slowly rising, he kisses you passionately, your taste on his lips. “Told you,” he teases. You roll your eyes, pushing him off you and dipping back into the water. The combination of coming down from your high and the tub's heat leaves you dazed and thirsty. You tell him you will be back, drying your body off quickly before returning to your room. You throw on a T-shirt and sneak into the kitchen. Rummaging through the fridge, you settle on two light beers, surreptitiously shutting the door. However, to your surprise, you didn’t expect Gia to be right behind you, bumping into her. “Can’t sleep?” Gia yawns, stretching her arms out of her robe. “Y-yeah,” you stumble over your words. “Just grabbing a couple of beers to get me tired.” Before she could speak, you bolt out of the kitchen and into your room, locking the door this time. Exhaling deeply, you turn and find yourself facing San: wet, naked, and fully hard. He shouldn’t have caught you off guard, taking your breath away at the mere sight of him. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before, and you’d think you would be used to it, but the sweet spot between your legs says otherwise. “You had me worried you ran away.” You shake your head, setting one beer down on the dresser while opening the other. You take a couple of gulps before he takes it away, replacing the bottle on your lips with his kiss. His hands slide underneath your shirt, squeezing your breasts and rubbing your nipples. Your back is now against the wall, your body completely at his mercy. “Hey,” Gia’s voice booms through the door. You gasp in shock, and San stifles a giggle, with you hovering his mouth with your hand to keep him quiet. 
“Y-yeah,” you croak. You see the door knob rattle, and you were sure your heart would drop to your ass at any moment, but you remembered that you locked the door. You sigh in relief, watching San stroke his cock in front of you. “I was going to watch Angel on TV and make some popcorn. Do you want to join me?” You would’ve answered no immediately had San not lifted your leg and slid his tip inside you. “Do you want to join her?” He whispers in your ear. “Do you wanna watch tv, or do you want to cum for the second time tonight?” San suddenly thrusts into you, making you sigh out loud. Your hand holds onto the dresser for balance, his pumps getting deeper and making you cream. He is sick for this. ‘You better say something before she gets suspicious.” You are temporarily snapped out of esctasyland, clearing your throat to sound as normal as possible. “N-no,” you fight to speak without moaning. “I’m gonna drink and turn on some sleep waves on the speaker. Have fun!.”
“Alright,” Gia responds. “I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”
He wastes no time, lifting your other leg and pumping into you harder and deeper, your nails digging into his back. Your hips move in sync with his, your tight cunt tightening around his fat cock. You could kill him right now for almost getting you caught, but you’d rather fuck him instead.
“Keep fucking me like this,” you grit your teeth. “I need your fat dick inside of me.”
“With pleasure.”
He slips out of you, carrying you to the bed and setting you on the mattress. Before you could react, he has your head deep into the pillows, taking you from behind with your hands pinned behind your back. Thanks to the excellent quality pillows, your moans are muffled, but the headboard banging against the wall is not so kind. This is why you can’t leave San alone; he opens you up and makes you want to live a little. There is no bullshit with him, and everything is on the surface. It’s one of the reasons you fell in love with him, with his fantastic dick being too addictive to let go. He fills you with an insatiable lust that can be filled by anyone else, not that you haven’t tried filling that void. 
“Oh fuck,” he breathes. “I’m close, baby.” Your nails dig into your blanket, your release coming quicker than you realized. A deep, body-shuttering tingle turned into shockwaves, your orgasm coming through hard. Tears of joy stain your face and pillowcase, your legs shaking uncontrollably. All you could do was whimper in the pillows, entirely at San’s mercy once again. “I’m gonna cum,” his throaty warning barely audible. “Come here.” He steps back, vigorously stroking as you plop off the bed and kneel before him. He grits his teeth as his load comes hot and heavy, coating your face and tongue. Watching him utterly helpless because of what you do to him fills you with deep satisfaction. His eyebrows furrow focused on serving your mouth with him, and you happily suck him until his legs shudder. Exhaling deeply, he pulls you up and kisses you affectionately, a lingering touch on your lips that you will remember for a long time. You wish you could say something to him at this moment. You want to pour your heart and tell San that you still have feelings for him. You want to quit this cat-and-mouse game with him and be with him for real now. No more games or sneaking in in the middle of the night. Maybe post-nut clarity will hit you later, and you’ll regret it, but at least he’ll know, right? “How long will you be in town?” San asks as he slips on his boxers. “A week,” you answer slowly. “Why, what’s up?” “Just wondering if I need to be on standby in case you text again.” You cut your eyes playfully, rummaging through your drawer and finding a pair of underwear and a facial towel. You clean off your face and prepare for a shower, but you notice he is about to leave. Usually, when you are together, he stays the night and, call it a force of habit, but deep inside, you want that again. If only you could put your pride aside and tell him how you feel. “Hey,” you saunter over to him. “Maybe at the end of the week, I could stay a couple of days, and we could hang out?” Your nervousness eats at you from the inside, but you power through. “That’s if you don’t have plans or anything, of course.” San ties the drawstring on his shorts as he contemplates your proposal. You already feel like an idiot, suggesting something more when he doesn’t respond right away. You have a virtual egg on your face now, and you just want to crawl into bed and hide until he leaves. “Yeah,” he finally answers. “I would like that. But you’re coming to me this time.”
The dark tone in his voice excites you despite the aching pain in your thighs. Noticing he is ready to leave, you peek out of your door, listening to see if Gia is still up. You can hear growls and shouting from the TV, and you motion for him to creep down the hallway, just passing the living room. Your adrenaline pumps as you get closer to the front door, determined to not get caught as you sneak out of the house. The slight summer breeze is refreshing, and the smell of rain is imminent. You gaze at San one more time, walking him to his car, trying hard to ignore the pit you will feel in your heart for missing him. “Call me if you want to do that, okay?” San murmurs. “I would love to have you to myself for two days.” “Okay.”
He kisses you goodbye, his hands cupping your face. It was the sweetest kiss you’ve ever had, your stomach filled with more butterflies than before. It took for the summer breeze to pick up for you to break you two apart, bringing you back to Earth. All you could do was smile as he drove away, going in the opposite direction he came. You aren’t sure what the future will hold for you two, but you are glad you kept your feelings to yourself for tonight. 
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s3ashore · 1 month
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Good girl. That's all you have to be for him ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
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— warnings: masturbation, vaginal fingering , fingerfucking, rough sex, degradation
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"Can't help touching yourself, huh? You sure you wanna do that right now?"
Gojo's teeth gleam like fangs in the light, blue eyes like crystals digging into your skin as they roam your nude body. He made the rules and you know them well, and as a whole they're not hard to follow. Tell him where you're going when you go out. Eat what he gives you. No drinking without him present. Keep conversation with other sorcerers to a minimum.
And absolutely no masturbating alone. 
That one's always been a little harder to follow. Gojo's always busy, always hopping from one task to another, one curse to another, and engaging his students in between. There's so little time for you! Not to mention most nights when he comes home he's completely passed out before his head even hits the pillow, and you're left to try and prod him awake until you hear those telltale snores and have to give up altogether. 
Gojo has his hand around your wrist before you can think any more. He doesn't really like it when you do that--your thoughts get in the way of his rules more often than not, at least in his opinion. Always whispering those annoying little worries and doubts and silly ideas in your mind, making it so much harder for him to implant everything else he needs you to know. You know it's enough now, and with your little doe eyes turned up towards him you let him pull your hands away from your cunt and lay them at your sides. 
You're a good girl. You know how to obey, and that's really all you need to know when Gojo takes care of everything else. 
"You belong to me , remember? You promised, right?"
The switch he makes to a teasing voice and a coy smile marks danger. You find yourself nodding before any other reaction, and he laughs as if you've said something funny, before his face drifts closer and he looks you in the eyes with a deadly serious whisper. 
"That means this part, too." 
His tongue flicks out to lick his lips, finger tracing the soft lips of your pussy, and at once you wish he'd shove his whole head down there instead. The scolding you can take, but you can't help having to smell him and touch him and breathe his air without being able to ask him for what you really want. 
"You're really gonna touch my property without permission? What a bold girl…" 
He pushes you back and climbs on top, the buttons on his shirt popping off one by one as he rips it off and lets it slide off his biceps, muscles pulling taut as he grabs you under each knee and shoves them further into your chest, folding you back like you're a stubborn piece of origami. His cock needs barely any help in being freed when listening to you moan to yourself has got him so worked up, and little do you realize how often he thinks about you while he's gone that he can barely keep himself together through so much lust. And yet he displays such impeccable restraint when he rubs the head against your clit, just barely grazing your slit to get himself wet but never quite slipping inside, and it's absolutely driving you mad . But the second you try to wiggle down on it, Gojo props up both your legs with his forearm and shifts back, giving himself enough room that he can bring his palm down on your pussy with a hard, wet smack . 
And he doesn't stop there. Your cunt still stinging with the hit, Gojo gives you another and yet another still, leaving your lips puffy and your clit stiff while tears dribble down your cheeks. Only when that fury has disappeared from his crystal-clear eyes does he rub the pain away, his fingers finding their way inside you to hunt for that spot that he knows will make you forget all about the pain and the soreness that will certainly be there in the morning. 
"You're no good at doing things yourself, sweetie. You wanna cum, you just call me--I'll always make time, you know?"
His movements are practiced, slow, the pressure just enough to remind you he's there but not enough to hurt. And he's right, what else do you really do other than wait around for Gojo when he's not here? Even the way he fingers you feels like he's controlling his puppet, working your body in a way that you can't even manage yourself. The unbearable urge to relieve yourself surfaces fast and breaks once you grind your hips down on his hand for the last time, your body burning up and shaking as you soak him all the way up his arm with your orgasm. 
"Don't ever break the rules again. Do you really expect to survive without me?" 
Gojo looms over your frail body with a whisper dancing off his lips, voice low and deep as he pulls a whiny one-word answer from your lungs, accompanied by the furious shaking of your head. 
"What's that? No? That's what I thought." 
You can only imagine how many people and curses alike have seen that twisted smirk before they were culled for good. He yanks his hand away and licks up his arm to the wrist, before shoving two of his fingers into your mouth and watching with sick glee as you suck them down without hesitation. And with your pussy so sloppy and relaxed, you offer no resistance to his cock sliding in and his pace starting off brutally fast. 
" Good girl . You'll never cum without my help again, at the very least." 
The harsh paps of his hips working at a frantic pace along with the roughness of his voice just melt your brain completely between them, nothing but moans of 'more' and 'please' and 'deeper' around his fingers filling the thick air of the room that Gojo's made up for you. It's his bathroom you doll yourself up in, his blankets you cuddle up in when you miss his scent, his bed he rails you on and forces you to squirt all over when he comes home frustrated and horny. So is it Gojo who doesn't give you enough, or is it you being too picky and worrisome when you could just let it all go?
You think the latter may be the truth--but like Gojo said, you're really not all that good at thinking, are you? You're good at being a cocksleeve for Gojo, that much is clear by the way he bends your knees back so far it aches so he can bash your cervix with every thrust of his cock inside you, chasing that glorious moment when he fills you with cum and keeps you pinned so you'll take every drop of it. Lucky you he supervises in the mornings to make sure you take your birth control, along with helping you brush your teeth and find a nice outfit for the day.
...Yeah, you really wouldn't be anywhere without Gojo, would you?
"your a good girl…"
He shoves your legs further apart and tugs a yelp from your throat in the process. The words fall on you like an insult but he looks so happy when he says them, so drunk on love and pussy that he can barely see straight.
"Cum for me." 
That's one thing he'll never have to demand from you. As he moans it he pins your knees back all the way and squeezes your tits between them, before latching his mouth on to one and the other and sucking them hard enough to bruise, while he buries his cock so deep it pinches your cervix and keeps it there as you shriek out in pain. It's the push you need to do it though, your eyes rolling back as Gojo pumps you full of sperm and warms up your womb from the inside out, and your vision fades and returns in bursts as pleasure rips through you so violently that you black out temporarily. And he coos to you as soon as he's recovered from his own orgasm, reassurance after reassurance squeezed from his raspy throat as he strokes your hair and massages your tits from the bruises he's left on them. 
"Good girl."
Good girl. That's all you have to be for him….and is that really so hard?
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ryker-writes · 1 month
Note
to say that I'm obsessed with your broken siblings series is an understatement
i LOVE them it's just so comforting for some reason and i had an idea about one with epel, but then you posted the Leona one and i just need the no forgiveness ending
the pain my heart needs
but i'll still tell you my epel idea obviously
so imagine growing up with epel as your brother, always admiring him for his hard work and outgoing personality and that even tho he looks cute he can still beat ass
but then you get to nrc and he changes, and doesn't spend as much as with you as you guys used to, imagine vil separating you bcz you're not a good example for epel (+bonus points if reader is part of savannaclaw and epel gets bitter bcz they were always the fragile sibling and yet he was the one in pomefiore)
i don't imagine this relationship as angsty as the others, i can imagine epel getting over his jealousy pretty fast if it meant hanging out with them rather than listening to vil
it's actually really hard for me to imagine epel being a bad brother to his siblings, i think he just wouldn't realize they're hurting bcz he's too busy with his own problems
finally had some motivation so here we are! I completely agree with you that Epel's probably isn't as angsty because Epel actually would be a good sibling lol, but for the sake of angst, I deliver
Request Rules and Masterlists
Broken Sibling relationships
Epel as a sibling (Broken relationship)
You and Epel used to be very close!
When you were younger, the two of you used to play together a lot
Being some of the only kids around the same age in Harveston, you two spent a lot of time together
But you two were very different...
Epel had always been stronger than you were. He would show you how to do a lot of work on the farm, and he never let anybody just walk over him
You admired him!
In a way, you looked up to him and wanted to be like him. While he was stubborn and fierce, you were more calm, and weaker than him
But that never stopped you two from being close and spending all your time together!
That was...until you went to Night Raven College
You both had been very exited to go to NRC
In fact, you two were practically attached to each other before the entrance ceremony
The magic mirror called his name, and told him "Pomefiore"
it was unexpected, but you were happy for him! He certainly was cute enough get into Pomefiore, and he had the spirit of tenacity. There was a part of you that was optimistic about getting into Pomefiore with him
But then the mirror called your name, and said "Savannaclaw"
You felt your stomach drop at the word. Savanaclaw was known to be a very athletic dorm and filled with stubborn and tough people, so why were you put there?? It seemed like a dorm much better fit for Epel, not you
Had the magic mirror somehow gotten the two of you confused? Shouldn't it have put Epel in Savannaclaw? But the magic mirror doesn't make mistakes with this kind of thing
Savannaclaw was very overwhelming for you. Without your brother by your side, it was very tense. Everyone there was much different from you, and it was hard to feel like you belonged there with all of them
At least you could still spend time with your brother outside of dorms, right?
Wrong.
Anytime you went to Pomefiore, you were turned away by some Pomefiore student
"You're too much of a distraction."
"We don't need any Savannaclaw brutes here."
"You'll taint his beauty."
"Epel has more important things to worry about."
"Can't you just take a hint? We don't want you here."
Each and every time, you were told you weren't wanted there, and that you shouldn't be around Epel
While originally you kept trying, it got pretty disheartening after a bit to hear repeatedly that your brother didn't need you there or that you weren't welcome near him
When you kept trying, you were eventually met with the housewarden himself, Vil Schoenheit
"You clearly can't take a hint, can you? You are not welcome in Pomefiore. You would be nothing but a bad influence on Epel, and I will not stand for Pomefiore's reputation to be tarnished by you."
His tone left no room for arguments, and he left immediately after
It really started to feel like Epel himself didn't want you there at this point, and it hurt you
Eventually, you stopped trying. They made it clear you had no place in Pomefiore, and you would forever be part of Savannaclaw
It felt hopeless
You had once been so close to your brother, but now, you can't even talk to him
It's as if the two of you were in entirely different worlds now
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poppadom0912 · 1 month
Text
Excuses
Warnings: Mentions of fainting, diabetes, canon-typical injuries
Summary: You suffer the consequences just because your teacher thought you were making excuses.
A/N: First fic of 2024!!! I had plans that I was going to post weekly in the new year just like last year but things went downhill. This january and february has had its very good but also really bad moments and even writing this was a struggle. I've found myself in a weird place of wanting to write but struggling and all of a sudden not being able to balance my schoolwork and writing. So I took a lil step back to solely focus on my work but looking at everything now, my fic updates will be much less frequent but hopefully just as or if not, more fun to read.
I feel bad for not saying or posting anything since the new year but I'm here now and hopefully will be more alive. I've got lots planned for you beautiful people, several series and way too many fics in my drafts that I cannot wait for you all to read. This wasn't as long or as juicy as I intended but my brain completely failed me so I hope this is good enough. I initially wanted to post this at the beginning of March but I finished the final editing today so here you go!!
Final note before we start, I have general knowledge about diabetes but that's all from my grandma. I have no idea if it's the same for teenagers so I'm sorry for any mistakes. Happy reading!!
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Your biology teacher had been on maternity for three weeks now and you were seriously contemplating life.
Because of the crappy rules surrounding maternity leave, when your teacher refused to return before her three months ended, your school had a supply teacher fill in for her till she came back.
Since day one, you knew you hated her.
It was mid lesson and you knew as soon as you started feeling sluggish that your sugar levels were dropping. Your thoughts were only confirmed when your Dexcom receiver let you know of your decreasing glucose.
This wasn't a usual occurrence. Will and Jay always made sure you had eaten enough and you had the means to maintain the needed glucose levels so that nothing happened.
Alas, you were up late revising and you were stressing about keeping up your good grades. Jay was rushing you out the door because he needed to go to a scene he'd just been called to and Will was out walking Kol and hadn't seen you leave.
In conclusion, it'd been a hot minute since you last ate something.
The school were well aware of your diabetes. It was one of the very important things your brothers stressed them about when you first started.
Most students knew about it actually, having seen your Dexcom and not understanding since a diabetic child apparently wasn't common according to them.
So, when you randomly pulled out a snack from your bag mid class, no one questioned it and instead would make sure you were okay. There'd never been a problem before in school and everyone wanted it to stay that way.
However, this new teacher, Mrs Byrne was apparently completely unaware of your medical condition.
"Y/N. You know the rules about eating in class." She said strictly, pulling away all the attention from the board onto you.
She stopped you in the middle of opening the packet of fruit gummies. You frowned, looking at her confused along with your classmates.
"I have diabetes." You said bluntly, continuing to open the packet. "I don't eat this and I'll pass out."
Mrs Byrne only rolled her eyes, smiling at you condescendingly. "I've heard that excuse hundreds of times, give those to me."
You scoffed at the audacity, refusing to hand over what was yours.
It was when she started walking towards your desk with a pep in her step that the entire class got involved. Their raised voices overlapped, some angrier than others over what was happening.
However, you too were Stubborn alike to your brothers so you kept as firm of a grip of the packet. You turned a blind eye to the anger fuelled cover teacher. You continued to smile as she spewed threats of all sorts.
Due to your frustration and annoyance over the teacher who wanted to take your gummies away, you didn't notice how everything started change; how hard it was to move your eyes and lips, your limbs getting heavier and you thoughts slowly getting muddled up.
Lost in a daze, you were no longer able to fight back when she pulled harder, successfully snatching the small packet out of your hands. It was now that the class got furious, your friends were already up and at your side but now they were verbally attacking the teacher.
Fed up with her petty behaviour, you were going to get up and go to the nurses office who would take care of you but getting out your seat was harder said than done.
With one of your friends help, you weren't too sure who was helping you from your hazy sight that cleared when you blinked too many times.
You were wobbly on your feet, taking slow and hesitant steps towards the front of the classroom but before you could leave, you felt your legs give out and everything went black.
*****
It turned out that supposed crime scene that he was imminently needed at was nothing but a prank by a bunch of college boys resulting in a grumpy Hank putting them in cuffs and having them fined for a very reasonable reason.
That's how the rest of the unit found themselves finishing up paperwork, catching up about life in general as they debated what they were getting for lunch.
Jay was smugly sitting back, eyes flickering between Kevin and Adam who were bickering over something trivial when his phone rung, catching everyone's attention.
They were all so bored and normally when one of their phones went off during work hours, it meant something came up and they were needed.
In interest, everyone turned their heads towards Jay and waited for him to tell them they got a crime scene.
Picking up his phone, Jay's brows furrowed at the number, confused as to why your school was calling him in the middle of the day. They'd only call him if two things happened: You'd gotten in trouble or you got hurt.
"Hello. Is this Y/N Halsteads brother Jay?" A voice he couldn't recognised asked, most likely some lady from the main office.
"Yeah, that's me." Jay confirmed, sitting up in preparation for whatever he was going to be told.
"So sorry to interrupt you sir but Y/N collapsed in class." The lady said with guilt laced in her words. "Your other brother didn't pick up the phone. We called to let you know we had to call the paramedics and they've taken her to Chicago Med."
"Uh yeah." Jay said, collecting his jacket and keys. "Yes, thank you."
Not waiting for a reply, Jay hung up and quickly knocked on Hank's office door frame.
"Sarge, I gotta get Y/N-"
"Go get her. We're done here."
*****
Wanting to pull his hair out, Will rubbed his eyes in frustration, glaring at his patients scans that only confused him further. He was tired and was coming to half way through his twenty four hour shift.
"Dr Halstead- Uh, Dr Rhodes in T4." Maggie stumbled, looking down at her brick and making sure she read it correctly.
"What's wrong?" Will asked, confused as to why Maggie changed her mind which she usually never did.
"It's Y/N."
Now fully awake, Will followed Connor towards the ambulance bay where you were being rolled in. You were groggily sitting up on the stretcher, you hair a mess and a few scratches around your face and hands from when you fell.
"Sylvie, what happened?" Will asked the blonde paramedic while looking you over. He desperately wanted to check you over himself but let Connor do his thing. He really did not need Ms Goodwin on his case today.
"Teachers didn't tell us much but her classmates said she collapsed after not being able to eat." Sylvie relayed the minimal information she knew, shrugging her shoulders when the two doctors looked at her weirdly. "No one would tell us anything more."
"Y/N, it's Connor. Can you hear me kid?" Connor said while pulling out his penlight. He was like another brother to you, his concern just as high. "Can you tell me what happened?"
You groaned, mumbling nonsense with your eyes screwed closed. Your words were mostly unintelligible but Will understood them mere seconds later.
Fixing the problem you complained about, Will turned down the lights and let Connor continue fussing over you.
It didn't take long to find out the cause of your collapse, Will sighing at the news when he read the numbers from your tests.
"I thought she was always on top of her sugar levels." Connor said, closing the room door so you could sleep in peace.
And what he said was completely true but they weren't aware of why you couldn't today specifically of all days.
"She is." Will said, rubbing a hand down his face in frustration. "Maybe her dexcom malfunctioned or something."
Connor hummed, agreeing with his friend.
"Hmm, maybe."
*****
Arriving at Med, Will gave Jay a detailed rundown of everything he new about your medical state but also the events pre your hospital arrival.
Getting a good look at you, holding your hand in his and kissing you on your forehead, Jay was more than happy to leave you in your oldest brothers safe hands while he got to the bottom of this entire ordeal.
He noticed Sylvie was still at Med, Foster mentioning they were running low on a few supplies so they needed some stocking up. Jay took this opportunity to interview the two paramedics and try to get further understanding on this situation that wasn't making much sense to him.
Arriving at your school, Jay had some thoughts in mind but they weren't very concrete and his confidence wasn't as strong as he'd like it to be.
Walking into the school, Jay immediately noticed an entire class sitting and standing around in the corridor waiting in front of the principals office.
One of the girls who had been sitting in a chair had caught sight of Jay, her eyes widening before she smiled, gently nudging the girl next to her and pointing in his direction. The girls reaction was the exact same.
This created a sort of domino effect as the boy next to her noticed Jay and everyone was telling the other of his sudden arrival. The once silent corridor was now beginning to fill with murmurs and whispers, all their eyes glued onto his figure that moved down the corridor, their shocked faces quickly changing into smiles and smirks.
It seems that Jay had a reputation of sorts.
"Why are you making so much noise? What did I just say about talking-"
The principal cut himself off from his scolding when he suddenly noticed Jay's presence, his face blanching as all the pieces clicked into place.
"Detective Halstead! What a surprise, we weren't expecting to see you so soon-"
This time Jay cut him off, not too bothered about his lack manners. "My brothers with Y/N at the hospital so I thought there was no other perfect time."
The principal remained silent.
"Now, why don't you explain to me why my sister fainted under your watch?"
The students behind Jay couldn't help but snicker knowingly.
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angelltheninth · 8 months
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Nightclub Owner Yuuji Looks Out for You
Pairing: Yuuji Itadori x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, meet-cute, dancing, protectiveness, flirting, getting into fights, injuries, soothing kisses
A/N: A friend of mine used to own a night club a few years back but clubs were never my scene that much.
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Nightclub owner!Yuuji who looks more the guy who should be going to nightclubs instead of owning one. Maybe that's what makes him so easy to talk to when people first come in, he's approachable, he always has a big smile on his face and he will always greet you and tell you to follow the rules and have good time. That's what the club is here for.
Nightclub owner!Yuuji who has a zero tolerance policy for those who break the rules or are being a nuisance to others. People tend to get carried away, he gets that however when they want to start something is when he steeps in or sends others to step in before thigs get out of hand. He would rather handle things quietly and not disturb other people having fun.
Nightclub owner!Yuuji who keeps an eye on you if he notices you're nervous. You don't have to be here if this isn't your scene but if you would like to give it a try he would love to have you. There's no one here who can make you drink or dance or do anything that you don't want to, you're here to have fun, to meet people, to relax, maybe get a little hot and heavy with someone who catches your eye.
Nightclub owner!Yuuji who notices you're not having that good of a time so he decided to ask you to dance with him. He doesn't usually do this but you seem like a really fun girl from the little conversation he had with you in the last few times you've been here. Ironically he's not the best dancer out there but that does help you relax with him because he can't judge you for being as bad while you're nervous.
Nightclub owner!Yuuji who buys drinks for the people who are regulars at him nightclub. It keeps people coming back, he knows it makes people relax but he also makes sure to cut drinks off if someone gets drunk. When that does happen he instructs staff to take the person to the back, or asks their friends to wait with them outside until a taxi arrives.
Nightclub owner!Yuuji who always tries to keep people safe in his nightclub. There's a lot of touching that can happen when people dance, or when a couple comes to the club. But there's always gonna be people who want to force someone to have fun, or to go with them as opposed to someone else, even threatening. So when he sees someone trying to force you out of your comfort zone you bet that he steps in.
Nightclub owner!Yuuji who doesn't get into fights often because he's the owner he needs to set an example for everyone else. How would it look if the owner threw punches at someone in the club? Very bad, of course. Which is why he tries to talk thinks out most of the time. But when it's who is in a dangerous situation he doesn't bother with his reputation anymore.
Nightclub owner!Yuuji who takes the guy out back, saying how he just wants to talk. The moment the door closes behind them he punches him, starting a pretty bad fight in the process. You find him towards the end of the fight, bloody fists, bloody lip, dirt over his clothes and face but the other guy knocked out and him calling an ambulance.
Nightclub owner!Yuuji who does give a statement on why he got into a fight and gives camera recordings to confirm his side of the story. He doesn't go to the hospital because his own injuries aren't that bad, in his mind, but you don't agree. When he's being stubborn you offer to clean his fists and face instead.
Nightclub owner!Yuuji who is very taken back when you kiss the injury on his lip despite it still being bloody. This is not how he wanted your first kiss to go or for you to see this violent side to him. Honestly he feels like he let you down in a way. He didn't expect to see you again but not only did you come back but you also came back with a job application to work in his nightclub. If he's keeping an eye on everyone then someone needs to keep an eye on him, that someone might as well be you.
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coryoskywalker · 4 months
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History (Young! Coriolanus Snow x Reader)
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Description: Maybe you should’ve taken the risk. Perhaps things would’ve been different….
You and Coriolanus have been friends since the age of six. There was a moment between you two that she couldn’t forget. It was after the war when Y/n spotted young Coriolanus walking around the Capitol, presumably searching for food. Being the kind soul she was, Y/n took a piece of bread from her basket and offered it to him. Despite Coriolanus's initial stubbornness, he eventually accepted the bread, forever thankful.
From that moment, both Coriolanus and Y/n knew they would become great friends, or perhaps something more. It wasn't until they became adults, in their last year at the academy, that Coriolanus faced a crucial day. Winning the plinth prize was his only chance to save his family from starvation and secure a worry-free university education.
Y/n, aware of Coriolanus's home situation, always told him to come to her if he needed anything. However, he, driven by guilt and a high ego, consistently refused her help. When the day of the plinth prize announcement arrived, Dr. Gaul changed the rules, making each of the 24 students a mentor and allocating them to a tribute.
Y/n, the saint she is, panicked when she got the young girl named Wovey, knowing the girl didn’t stand a chance, breaking her heart. It wasn’t until Coriolanus softly grasped her hand and reassured her that everything would be fine. As time passed, Coriolanus still didn’t have a tribute. He knew High Bottom purposely gave him a girl from District 12, Lucygray, to secure his downfall. An interesting tribute, Y/n admitted, especially the moment the girl started singing and swearing on live television.
Y/n looked at Coriolanus as the scene played out. He had a stern look, and what she assumed was admiration, a look she had never seen him have—at least not directed towards her. From that moment, Y/n knew Lucygray would be the downfall of her and that Coriolanus could have been.
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“Coriolanus do you love her? Do you love lucygray?” Y/n whispered to him. It was mid way during the hunger games.
Coriolanus looked guiltily at Y/n, unable to meet her gaze. "I... I have feelings for her," he muttered faintly, without even looking at her. Y/n had noticed Coriolanus's unusual behavior — his inability to sleep, his loss of appetite, and his lack of social interaction. She couldn't figure out what had changed, but now, she knows the answer. Coriolanus felt an unexpected affection toward LucyGray. He was deeply ashamed of it, but he couldn't deny it. He looked at Y/n painfully, yet with determination.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice breaking with emotion. "I don't know when it started... I have no idea how to explain it. All I know is this: I love Lucy, and I want to win the Games for her." Y/n was stunned. She had known that Coriolanus felt something for the District 12 tribute, but she didn't expect him to put his feelings into words so soon. It was as if he had forgotten about her completely, as if he no longer cared about their shared time together. Her heart ached with pain.
"Y/n..." He looked stared at you. "Lucy... my Lucy... deserves happiness. She deserves to know what love is. She deserves a shot at a future. And I will give it to her. But that doesn't mean I haven't felt things for you. It's just... You... you and me... it's not as simple."
“I understand,” was all you replied. He had always been honest about his feelings, but it was not the answer you were expecting. You were hurt to find you had been reduced to ‘too complicated’ when you thought of him as the perfect complement. But you knew you could never be that simple, with all your duties and expectations. As much as it pained you, you could understand why he had chosen another girl. He would never have to worry about her, to question her motives or her honesty. She would be loyal and good, with no strings attached.
“Is it easier with her?” You questioned him. You were confused and doubtful. How could being an outsider from the Capitol be easy? You refused to believe him.
“Yes,” he was honest with you. No reason to hide the truth. “She’s... simpler than you. Easier to understand. She’s honest and good and pure. But our path in the Games is not that simple. And you... You’re complicated too. I’m aware of our status. I know I’m bound by duty while you’re… free in comparison.” He spoke pushing a piece of fallen hair.
Y/n stepped back, keeping a short distance between herself and Coriolanus as her heart shattered to pieces. She couldn't believe the man she loved... the man she had spent years thinking also felt the same way for her had betrayed her like this. She was lost for words and the only thing which came out of her was an uneasy breath and tears flowing down her angelic face.
"So everything was a lie, Coriolanus?" Y/n whispered, her voice shaky and broken. "Everything we admitted to each other throughout the years was a humorous joke to you?".
Coriolanus stood there, strong and proud even though the words he was speaking were breaking her heart. He said without shame, without hesitation, "Yes."
Seeing the heartbreak on her face, he softened his tone and spoke as gently as he could despite the situation. "I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry. I do care for you... it's just..."
He searched for words, and then stopped. His jaw clenched... there was nothing he could say. So he just stood there, trying really hard not to look away as her tears poured.
Y/n felt her heart break into pieces when she heard Coriolanus speak those words. She had no idea that her feelings for him were not reciprocated all this time. Coriolanus had been honest with her, but at what cost? She felt betrayed and hurt beyond measure, and the only thing she could do was let out a painful cry. Y/n could not believe that her and Coriolanus's relationship was now over. She felt like a piece of her heart was missing and she didn't know how she would ever recover from this heartache.
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As y/n lay curled up on the forest floor, she took a deep breath, taking in the tranquil atmosphere. Coriolanus's arm was wrapped around her, his breath gentle and slow against her cheek. They had found refuge from their busy schedule under this old tree, and for now, nothing else mattered to them but each other. The day's worries melted away, the stress of work and deadlines no more than a distant memory.
"What do you see in your future?" Coriolanus asked casually, brushing her hair away from her face as he looked down at her.
"Huh? Oh...my future..." y/n mused, blinking slowly. She thought for a moment, her mind wandering back to the dreams and ambitions she held when she was younger. But something changed as she grew older, and she started to feel as if those fantasies were becoming increasingly unrealistic, to the point where she no longer believed them possible. "I'm not sure anymore."
"Why not?" Coriolanus pressed, shifting so her head was now nestled on his lap. The gentle rustling of the leaves in the trees above seemed to drown out their conversation, providing them with a sense of seclusion.
"I used to dream about becoming a scientist. Or becoming a journalist. But after a while, I began to realize that the odds of that happening were next to zero. So, I settled with less..." y/n trailed off, feeling her voice waver slightly.
Coriolanus reached up to stroke her cheek, the sound of his own voice now soft and subdued. "Maybe you're not giving yourself enough credit, y/n. You're smart and capable; you can do anything you set your mind to."
"Maybe..." y/n mumbled, leaning into Coriolanus's touch. But her uncertainty remained, her voice a whisper as she spoke. Even her best friend, the boy who had supported her throughout all her life's ups and downs, believed in her more than she believed in herself.
Coriolanus seemed to notice a hint of sadness in y/n's voice and his gaze met hers, his expression one of concern. Y/n tried to hide it, but was it really that easy for people to see through her defenses?
Coriolanus studied y/n closely, his hand moving up to her cheek and gently turning her face so that their eyes met. Y/n's heart skipped a beat as she felt the warmth of his touch and her gaze quickly flitted away. After everything they'd been through, she should have been used to these moments where he looked at her with such tenderness, but it still made her cheeks flush and her blood run cold. She wondered whether he was thinking the same thing as her...and if maybe this moment was about to become something more...
Y/n felt the weight of the world melt away as Coriolanus leaned in and brushed his lips against hers, so gently and sweetly that it felt more like a whisper than a kiss. Her eyes remained shut, her heart pounding in her ears as she savored the sensations of Coriolanus's arms around her and their bodies pressed against each other, a perfect moment of intimacy. Y/n parted her lips slightly, and Coriolanus's kiss deepened as he wrapped his arms around her. The warmth in her stomach grew, her breaths coming in rapid gasps.
Y/n felt a jolt of electricity run through her body as her heart pounded harder in her chest. She had always known these feelings existed, but now they were suddenly given life as Coriolanus pressed himself closer to her, his hands brushing her hair away from her face and his breath catching in his throat. Y/n tried to hold back, but the kiss was so overwhelming that she let out a tiny whimper of surrender, her hands clutching at his shirt as their embrace became deeper and more meaningful.
Coriolanus was the first to pull away, his chest heaving as he lifted his head and stared down at her. Y/n couldn't breathe, her body still trembling from the sensations of the kiss.
"Y/n..." Coriolanus murmured, his fingers slowly brushing aside the dark locks that framed her face. His eyes were fixed on her lips as he studied her face closely, trying to determine whether she truly was as affected by their kiss as he was.
Y/n swallowed hard, unable to tear her eyes away from Coriolanus's face. How could their friendship ever be the same after a kiss like that? Yet, as she looked at him, she felt as if they were the only two people in the entire world, and that nothing else besides their feelings mattered at all.
She wanted to say something, ANYTHING to break the silence, but her thoughts were too clouded by the emotions coursing through her body, still reeling from the intensity of their kiss and every touch of his fingers on her skin.
Maybe if she broke the silence, maybe, just maybe things would’ve been different….
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starglowwos · 4 months
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canary curse things. thinking about canary curse things
i'm hesitant to say the canary curse has been broken—what, no, of course it has been, jimmy died second instead of first, and the canary curse is all about dying first— okay hear me out i swear i make sense
my thought is that patterns can change. patterns aren't always static ones. just because something new happened this time around doesn't mean the pattern's been broken, it may have just changed its rules a bit.
joel had a pattern of having no true allies up until double or limited life, where it instead became a pattern of being isolated, for example
now, before we get into the canary curse specifically, let's talk about some other patterns
scott and martyn tend to drag themselves as well as their allies up the leaderboard. they both tend to outlive their allies. grian tends to kill his allies. ...i feel like i should put more here but that's all i can think of right now
now, the way i see it, is scott, martyn, and jimmy in particular all have some sort of weight to them. positive meaning they drag themselves and their allies up the leaderboard, negative meaning the opposite. scott and martyn have a positive weight, whereas jimmy has a negative one.
what i think's happened here is that martyn and jimmy's weights have tugged on each other, and as a result, martyn turned yellow and red first instead of much later on, and jimmy died second instead of first.
jimmy's pull is strong, i think, and so he tends to die first every time. just because he tends to die first every time doesn't make that a rule, though - it just makes it a pattern, one that's been broken. the pattern that hasn't been broken, though, is jimmy being one of the earliest to die, and jimmy dragging his allies down the leaderboard with him.
jimmy died first in 3rd life, and dragged scott down to 10th, and scott finally turned yellow right before jimmy died. jimmy died first in last life, and dragged mumbo down with him, and they were a similar color pretty much the whole time. jimmy died first in double life, and dragged tango down with him. jimmy died first in limited life, and joel died quickly after. jimmy died second in secret life, and dragged martyn's color down with him.
martyn, though, doesn't die yet, because of his positive weight. he's often tugged further up the leaderboard, and so while jimmy may drag his color down and martyn ends up first yellow and red, martyn still manages to stay afloat.
martyn is stubborn is the thing, lmao. he stays alive out of spite and just because he wants to, and so he does, and he makes sure he does. now that the stakes are higher and one wrong move could mean losing everything, he's being a lot more careful than he was earlier on.
and let me just reiterate for a second - he's stubborn. once he's got an idea, he's locked onto that idea until he gets it done or literally can't anymore. martyn will drive himself up the wall before he gives up on something and even then he'll need convincing or more likely a distraction. he didn't give up on ren in third life til he died and couldn't do anything anymore. he didn't give up on trying to kill scott in last life til he died and couldn't do anything anymore. he didn't give up on getting a diamond chestplate in secret life until he got it despite how much it cost him in the end. outside the life series, even, i'm rewatching rats right now- martyn will try to climb a wall over and over and over until he gets it or something gets in the way. he'll be texturing a model and complain to chat about how painful it is and still decide to spend the next hour and a half getting the damn thing done even though he should've logged off for bedtime 2 hours ago. (yes martyn i am calling you out, enjoy)
and so martyn doesn't die! he's yellow first, he's red first, and all other red names die, but martyn doesn't. because yeah, maybe he's impulsive, but he's in this for himself and himself alone and there's no way in hell he's dealing with a wither and a warden that's just killed three people. (he did try and steal the kill though. martyn do you remember what happened last time you tried to steal the kill, you fell into the void and died)
jimmy isn't as stubborn. jimmy's a lot more forgiving, a lot more lenient, and as much as he's being more aggressive this season, he's reckless about it and impulsive and his reputation isn't helping him here.
jimmy lets things happen to him. as upset as he might act about it, he never actually does anything about it, and it gets him killed. he's afraid to break the rules, he's afraid to make people uncomfortable or upset or hurt, he starts genuinely tearing up at the thought of pulling a bait and switch on skizz, and that's the kind of thing martyn does on a daily basis lmao
jimmy is forgiving and passive, martyn and scott don't forget so easily and aren't afraid to make people upset, grian's somewhere in between.
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