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#i’ve been looking forward to this all week -_-
sluttywoozi · 1 day
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April Shower | jww x f!reader
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Wonwoo meets a lot of people through his career as a travel photographer. Not one of them has ever made him want to stay in one place, until he met you.
Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~12.0k Pairing: jww x f!reader | Genre: romance, meet cute, smut, love at first sight
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Story Warnings: alcohol and food mention
Smut Warnings: masturbation mention, dirty talk, dom!wonwoo, bigdick!wonwoo, wonwoo’s cold hands, size kink, light thigh slapping, fingering, oral reader rec., overstimulation, slight dumbification, squirting, sexual health/safety talk, unprotected sex (don’t do it), cumming on tits
Reader Notes: has breasts and a vagina, like half a foot shorter than wonwoo, wap, has a cycle to track
AN: written for my bestie @sluttywonwoo’s birthday! kaili, the light you bring to my life is immeasurable and i’m so lucky i’ve gotten to grow with you over the past 7 years 💖
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Wonwoo draws in a deep, tremulous breath as he raises the camera to his bespectacled eye, wishing not for the first time that he was anywhere but the city of love. 
This is the second proposal he’s photographed today, the fifth this week, and while he’s always thought himself to be someone who doesn’t mind love, he’s starting to grow a bit… weary. 
His hotel room is obviously meant for two, as were many of the pastas and desserts he’s ordered so far. Everywhere he looks, there are people kissing or hugging or holding hands, their ages ranging from teens in puppy love to folks in their golden years shuffling down the street arm in arm, supporting each other as they have for decades. 
He’s been working as a travel writer for five years, been single just as long, but this is the first time he’s ever found himself feeling lonely. He’s usually restless, never wanting to settle in one place, and he’s almost always solo, reluctant to give himself to someone who might want to keep him. 
Lately, he’s felt a bit differently. Perhaps he’s getting old, outgrowing his bachelor lifestyle. He finds himself wanting to plant roots where before he was nearly offended by the notion of digging any deeper than surface level. 
There’s just something about Verona that begs to be shared, to be experienced with someone else. Maybe it’s the romantic music flowing from the restaurants he passes, maybe it’s the fact that he seems to be the sole single person in this city. Regardless of the cause, he actually feels alone, for the first time in years. 
It’s not a feeling he enjoys, or one he’s familiar with, and as he traverses the cobblestone streets, he almost wishes he was holding someone’s hand instead of the camera he’s carried for most of his life. 
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Wonwoo swears out loud when he feels the first drop of rain. He checked the forecast twice this morning, knowing he would be exploring an area a few miles from his hotel and that he wouldn’t be able to return to grab or drop anything off. 
With the weather appearing to be clear and sunny all day, he left his umbrella in his room and headed out to catch his taxi. 
He more than regrets that now, the rain starting to pour and his white button down beginning to soak through. He at least brought his water resistant backpack so for now, his camera is safe, but spending the rest of the day in sodden clothes sounds like actual hell. 
He looks up and down the street frantically, finding only personal residences, not a single shop in sight. 
Until he looks closer and realizes the building at the end of the row has a sign. He can’t read it from this far away, even with his glasses, but the hope is enough to propel him forward. 
He darts down the street, splashing through puddles and swearing again as he feels water permeate his socks. The store comes into view, the sign becoming clearer and clearer the closer he gets. 
Storie d’Amore, it reads. Love stories, of course. He shouldn’t have expected anything else from the city of love. 
“It’s open, thank fuck,” Wonwoo murmurs as he wrenches the door open and steps inside, his clothes dripping all over the hardwood floors. 
He feels terrible tracking rainwater into this store, but he had no other choice. His water resistant bag is only resistant for so long, and his camera is far too valuable to risk. 
He glances around the small room, looking for the owner so he can apologize and instead finding shelves upon shelves of books. He walks slowly, squelches following each step, and reads over the spines. 
He’s shocked to find novels in all kinds of languages, some he recognizes and speaks and some he doesn’t. He’s relatively fluent in five thanks to his years of language classes and traveling, and he has to resist picking up a book in each of the ones he knows. 
He reaches the end of the first shelf, gasping at the large paned window he finds and gasping even louder at the black, tailless cat lounging on the ledge. 
The cat pays him little to no mind, lazily peering at him over their shoulder before curling into a small ball. They blink their big peridot eyes a few times and let out a heavy sigh, settling into sleep faster than Wonwoo could ever hope to. 
Enchanted, he swings his bag around to his front, digging through and pulling out his camera as quietly as possible. 
Even with the mid-April shower, the light coming in through the window illuminates the subtle white notes in the cat’s fur, giving them a glow he begs his camera to capture. 
He crouches until he’s eye level with the cat, holding his breath as he brings the viewfinder up to his eye and presses down the shutter button. 
The cat doesn’t stir, too deep in slumber to register the quiet click. He takes a few more pictures, trying different angles and light settings until he feels he’s gotten every possible combination. 
Maybe it’s stupid, but Wonwoo is more excited to share these photos than nearly any others he’s ever taken. 
Which is why he balks and falls flat on his ass when he hears, “Anubis is a model, you’ll owe us royalties for those.” 
Eyes wide, he looks around wildly to find the source of the words. There’s no one in sight, the store seemingly empty except for him and Anubis. 
“Up here,” the voice calls out, drawing his eye and making his mouth drop open when he finally notices a spiral staircase leading up to a small loft. 
He doesn’t know how he didn’t see it before. He must have been too busy staring at the cat to really take in the rest of the store, and as you slowly step down, he can’t tell if you’re amused or annoyed. What he can tell is that you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, and that he suddenly wants to ask if you believe in love at first sight. 
“I can give you royalties! Please don’t make me delete them,” he pleads, far less embarrassed than he should be by the fact that he’s practically on his knees begging a pretty stranger to let him keep photos he took. 
You reach the landing and make your way toward him, your face unreadable. He’s surprised when you break into a sweet smile and hold your hand out to him. He hugs the camera close to his chest in response, making you roll your eyes and grab his free hand. 
The warmth of your touch is a shock to his system, but he holds back the shiver that wants to roll down his spine as you lean back and tug. Still confused, he lets you help him up, feeling self conscious in his damp clothes. 
He stands a little straighter when he realizes he’s over half a foot taller than you, the height difference giving him back some of his confidence. He’s not sure it should, especially with the unimpressed look you level at him when you set eyes on the trail he tracked through your store. 
“I’m so sorry, I can clean it up if you give me supplies,” he offers, fully serious and almost hoping you’ll say yes just so he can assuage his guilt. 
“These floors have seen worse,” you shrug, leaning down to pet Anubis, and Wonwoo has no idea what that means but he’s not about to ask. He introduces himself instead, shaking the hand still held by yours and repeating your name when you offer it. 
He’s only slightly jealous when you pull away and hook your hands under the cat’s body to draw him into your arms, though whom he’s jealous of, he doesn’t know. 
He would love to be holding the cat, but he has a sneaking suspicion he’d also love to be held by you. 
Your hand was so warm, and so soft, and the rest of you looks just as warm and soft, if not more. 
Anubis snuggles into your arms, his legs stretching and his toes spreading before he tucks them up against your forearm. His eyes go heavy lidded when you start to scratch his head, and now Wonwoo knows who he’s jealous of. 
He hates to admit it but it’s been years since he let someone touch him, and after just a minute or two of knowing you, he’s already hoping you’ll touch him more. He doesn’t know if it’s because you hold Anubis so lovingly, so gently, or if it’s because you have this aura about you that soothes him, or if it’s even because he feels this attraction, this draw to you. Maybe it’s all three. 
All he knows is that something about you makes him want to stay until his clothes are dry and the sun is setting, and then stay a little longer after that. Like for months, or even years, perhaps. 
He’s relieved when you ask if he’d like some tea, directing him over to the small fireplace in the back of the store and nodding to one of the chairs. When he sits, you lean down and plop Anubis in his lap, surprise painting your face when he doesn’t immediately jump down. 
“He’s usually wary of new people,” you hum thoughtfully, watching as the cat gets comfortable on his thighs. He brings his hand up and runs it over his soft fur, beaming up at you when he feels Anubis’s little body start vibrating beneath his palm. 
“I love him,” Wonwoo admits, his voice grave and his eyes open and true behind his glasses. 
You just laugh and say, “Me too,” before disappearing behind a door, leaving him alone with your cat. 
Rain is still barraging the building, the steady sound lulling him into a trance as he pets the sweet being in his lap. The fire warms him quickly, making him realize just how cold he was before, a small shiver attempting to wrack his body again. He keeps it contained to his shoulders, wanting to avoid disturbing Anubis if possible. 
He tells himself it’s just because he wants him to stay, but if he’s being honest, he also hopes that if you see that your cat likes him, then you will too. 
Before long, you return with a tray of steaming mugs, one for him and one for you. You set it carefully on the side table between the chairs, telling him, “I would let it steep for two more minutes. There’s also biscotti, and some crostini if you’re allergic to nuts.”
“Wow, thank you so much,” he breathes, his eyes wide. He’s run into some very nice people on his travels, but it’s been a while since he was met with such hospitality. Here he is, sitting in front of a blazing fire with tea and snacks waiting for him, after dirtying your shop and taking unapproved pictures of your model cat. Cat model?
“So, how much do you expect in royalties?” He asks with trepidation, knowing the magazine he works for is pretty big but maybe not big enough to pay residuals for pictures of a cat. 
You stare at him for a few seconds, squinting your eyes and quirking your head before chuckling, “That was a joke. Bubby isn’t a model, I just think he’s handsome enough to be one.”
“Ohhhh.”
Wonwoo feels himself blush, his cheeks and ears flaring red before he forces out a laugh to try to cover his embarrassment. He’s not used to jokes, usually relying on sarcasm, puns, and situational humor, and he’s a bit ashamed he didn’t realize you weren’t being serious. He stares down at Anubis, petting him softly so he doesn’t have to meet your eyes. 
“Tea should be ready,” you say brightly, picking up your mug with careful hands and kindly allowing him to recover without your gaze on him.
He follows suit, cupping his hands around the hot mug and bringing it to his lips so he can blow gently, huffing when steam fogs up his glasses. He pushes them up into his hair, thinking absentmindedly that he should get it cut soon as he takes his first sip. 
The flavors bloom on his tongue, mint, orange, cinnamon, honey, and something else he can’t put his finger on. It’s the most comforting tea he’s ever had, and he blinks over at you with misty, blurry eyes, sighing, “What is this? I need to buy four tons of it.”
“It’s called Evening Sorrento, it’s one of my favorites,” you smile indulgently, bringing your mug to your lips and drinking slowly before setting it down and reaching for the biscotti. 
He follows your lead, taking a biscuit and dipping it in his tea like you do. The first bite has him groaning in appreciation, dark chocolate, citrus, and almond blending together flawlessly, the taste only enhanced by the tea. 
“What’s the spiciness from?” He asks curiously, taking another sip to try to figure it out himself. 
“Ginger,” you whisper like it’s a secret. “I candied some and put it in the biscotti, too.”
“You made these?” He sounds astonished, he knows, but he almost can’t wrap his head around someone being able to create something so delicious when all he can do is fry an egg. He still burns it half the time, more scared of undercooking than he is of overcooking.
“Yeah, my best friend taught me how, she loves to bake,” you smile sweetly, seemingly pleased to see him enjoying the food you made. 
Anubis stirs, stretching out on Wonwoo’s lap before leaping onto the floor and up into your chair. You murmur, “Hi, baby,” and Wonwoo can’t help but grin as he watches your cat use your arm to pet himself. 
He asks how long you’ve had him, then for pictures when he learns you rescued him as a kitten, gasping softly at the tiny version of the cat as you swipe through photos. The conversation shifts to Wonwoo’s desire to adopt a cat before he explains why he can’t, and the way you look genuinely sad for him makes his heart swell. 
You ask more about his job, about the places he’s been and the things he’s seen, and in turn, he asks how you acquired all of the books in this store. It turns out you have contacts all over the world, friends who send you romance books when they come across them in exchange for a free one when they next come to visit. It seems like the perfect system, allowing you to collect novels in different languages and share them with the people you love. 
Talking to you is so easy that he doesn’t even notice how late it’s grown until you check your phone, a startled expression on your face as you say, “I should have closed half an hour ago.” 
He glances at his watch, blanching at the clock staring back at him. It’s been four hours since he burst into your shop looking for refuge from the downpour, and he doesn’t even know if it’s still raining. The sun has long since set, going down around six PM this time of year, which was over two and a half hours ago. 
He rises swiftly, nervously smoothing out the wrinkles in his slacks and thanking you for your generosity. You stand with him, hugging Anubis to your chest before offering the cat for one last snuggle. Wonwoo takes him carefully, bundling him up against his now dry shirt and smoothing a hand from his head all the way down to the nub at the end of his body. 
He starts purring immediately, the sound audible even over the crackling of the embers, making you smile softly and tell him, “Bubby likes you.”
“I like him,” Wonwoo beams, reluctantly handing the cat over when you stretch your arms out. 
“You love him,” you correct with mirth dancing in your eyes as you walk him to the door.
He peeks out, sighing in relief when he finds that the rain has stopped before turning to you. He almost doesn’t know what to say, goodbye feeling too final, too formal. He thanks you again instead, dragging his feet now that it’s time to leave. 
But he doesn’t want to be rude, or keep you any longer than he already has, so with one last wave and a scritch under Anubis’s chin, he leaves. 
You call out, “Come back soon!” and while he’s sure you say that to all your customers, he can’t help but feel like you mean it. 
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Wonwoo has a plan for the day: take the train to Venice, splurge on a gondola ride, and capture as many of the historical buildings as he can while the boat is guided through the canals. 
So why he finds himself standing outside of Storie d’Amore again, he doesn’t know. 
He managed to stay away for two days, hiking all over Verona and taking enough pictures to fill an SD card. He would have made it three if he asked the cab driver to take him to the train station instead of your place of business, but here he is. 
Some part of him wants to rationalize it. He didn’t get any photos of the area because of the rain, just of your (not) model cat, so he’s simply making up for lost time. That still doesn’t explain why he’s staring through the paned glass window at the end of your shop, hoping for a glimpse of you or Anubis. 
Obviously, you’re both here, but he doesn’t see either of you, and he also wants to buy a few books to take home, so it only makes sense that he goes into your store. 
He’s dry this time, thankfully, though he wonders if that means you won’t offer him tea and biscotti again. He can see a few people milling about, pulling books off the shelves to read the summaries and either placing them into mismatched baskets or putting them back. 
He does the same, searching for novels in the languages he knows with the intent of buying one of each. He’s gathered Italian, French, and English when he feels something rub against his leg, looking down to find a black cat staring up at him. 
“Anubis!” Wonwoo grins, leaning down to set the basket to the side so he can pick up his little friend. Holding him to his chest, he feels his heart warm as the purring starts, not even a little mad about the black fur accumulating on his shirt. 
“Oh!” 
He hears you gasp and glances up, smiling shyly at you and shifting to hold Anubis with one arm so he can send you a wave that only feels a little awkward. 
“I didn’t think you’d come back,” you say, stepping closer to him and taking in the basket at his feet and backpack slung over his shoulder. 
“You told me to,” he shrugs sheepishly, suddenly fearing that, “Come back soon,” is something you just say to everyone. 
“I didn’t think you actually would. I thought you’d be gone by now, on to the next destination.” 
He can’t tell if you’re happy to see him or not, but you haven’t kicked him out yet so he doesn’t plan on going anywhere. 
“The next destination can wait. I needed something to read on the plane anyway.” 
“Looks like you found more than just something,” you chuckle, peering closer to check out the titles he’s gathered so far. “All good choices,” you smile up at him, and he feels something unlock in his chest to make space for you. 
“Can I take you out on a date?” He blurts out, his eyes widening and his free hand flying up to cover his mouth. The words escaped without his permission, but he can’t say he wants to take them back. 
You tilt your head and look at him for a little while, like you’re searching for something, and you must find it because your smile grows before you nod and say, “I can close early tonight. Does seven work for you?” 
“It works perfectly,” he breathes after lowering his hand, his heart racing and his body feeling warm for once. 
A customer calls out your name, making you glance over before you turn back and say, “Leave your books at the register and meet me here later?” 
He can only nod, grinning too wide to manage any words. 
“Don’t take my cat, I love that little guy,” you warn him playfully (he thinks) and spin to find the source of the voice. He can hear you speaking in rapid French, easily translating it in his head without even meaning to. They’re asking for your help in choosing between two books, one a tragedy and one a comedy. 
You go over the pros and cons of each genre and offer your own personal opinions on the specific books, making Wonwoo wonder if you’ve read every novel in here. You seemed to recognize the books in his basket and you apparently know the ones this customer is talking about; maybe you read them as you receive them? 
But there are so many, there’s just no way, he thinks, letting Anubis wriggle out of his arms to follow you. He supposes that’s something he can ask you at dinner, the thought bringing a pleased little smile to his face. 
He selects his last two books and wanders over to the checkout counter, stashing his basket on the stool behind it before heading out to get pictures of the neighborhood while he can. 
He’ll be busy tonight, after all.
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Wonwoo returns to your shop five minutes before the clock strikes seven. 
He slips in without your notice, making his way to his favorite window and sitting down on the ledge next to Anubis to scroll through the pictures he took while he was out. The cat just sprawls a bit more so his feet are touching Wonwoo’s thigh, the tiny points of connection warming him from the inside out. 
He captured another proposal today, but this one didn’t leave a hollow feeling in his chest like the others. Now that he’s thinking about it, neither did any of the couples he passed. He was able to truly appreciate all of them without that sense of bitter loneliness, and he can only attribute that to meeting you. 
An unbidden smile stretches his lips as he thinks about the time he spent sitting by that fire with you, talking about anything that came to mind. It’s been months since he spent four straight hours with someone, just talking. It’s been years since he wanted to. 
A tiny part of him fears he only feels this way because he’s been so lonely, but the rest of him knows he’d be enamored with you no matter what state he was in. 
This is only confirmed when you round the bookshelf and come to a stop in front of him, an emerald green dress swishing over your thighs and a smile brightening your face. You cleared the store in the time he spent reminiscing, leaving the room empty but for you, Wonwoo, and Anubis.
The air feels tense, heavy with something Wonwoo can’t quite identify. It’s only when he rises to his feet and finds himself closer to you than he meant to be that he realizes that something is potential. 
It’s the same rush of anticipation that fills his chest when he lines up a shot he knows will be incredible, when he finishes climbing a hill and sees the perfect sunset waiting for him, when he finally finds the words to describe the indescribably beautiful. The fact that he’s feeling it now, with you, tells him everything he needs to know. 
His previous fear of meeting someone who would want to keep him has become a dream, a wish that he can only hope will come true, because now Wonwoo knows he wants you to take hold of him and never let go. 
“Can I kiss you?” He asks, his voice so full of longing, it’s almost embarrassing. 
“Before the first date? The scandal!” You say dramatically, feigning offense and lightly tapping him on the chest. He gasps at the contact and covers your hand with his, pressing it flat to his pec so you can feel his speeding heart. 
You must realize how serious he is, how desperate, because the playful smile falls from your face, your gaze darting between his eyes and his lips. He feels himself flush under your attention, his ears and the back of his neck hot as you stare up at him. 
“Yes, Wonwoo. You can kiss me,” you breathe softly, your face tilting up and your eyelashes fluttering as he begins to lean down. This moment feels monumental for some reason, like something he’ll remember for the rest of his life, and as he cups your face and carefully presses his lips to yours, he figures out why. 
Everything about kissing you feels right, as if all of his jagged pieces have fallen into place, as if this is what he was destined for, as if the fates connected him to you with an invisible, unbreakable string. 
He wasn’t restless, he wasn’t a bachelor, he was just waiting for you. 
Suddenly his smile is too broad for him to keep kissing you, giddiness flowing through his veins as he pulls back and rests his forehead against yours. He leaves his hands on your face, brushing his thumb over the curve of your cheekbone before biting back his grin and kissing you one, two, three more times. 
He feels shy when he takes a step back, letting one hand fall to catch yours and squeezing like it’s a lifeline. 
“Was that… life-changing for you too?” Wonwoo asks quietly, scared to pop the bubble he’s found himself in with you. 
“Maybe,” you whisper, vulnerability evident in your voice though your face gives nothing away. “We should get going.”
“Yeah, yes, we should,” he lets you pull away even though it physically pains him, following when you tug him to the door with the hand he’s still holding. 
He doesn’t know what just happened, why you closed yourself off, but he’ll give you the space you seem to need, sure that if he pushes it will only make you freeze up more. For now, he’ll take you to that romantic riverfront restaurant he passed earlier and encourage you to order any and everything you like. 
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You ease up a bit after a glass of wine and some shared appetizers, the smile on your face genuine again though your light still seems dimmer than it was before. You ask him a lot of questions but don’t offer up much information in return, keeping your responses short and to the point. 
It doesn’t disrupt the flow of conversation at all, thankfully; Wonwoo and you are compatible enough that it’s easy to bounce from one topic to another. There’s never a pause, never a moment where he doesn’t know what to say, and even with you being more withdrawn than expected, he still laughs himself to tears more than once. 
It’s late by the time he pays the bill and walks you home, which he’s learned is the building right above your shop. There aren’t many people out, and though he startled you when he took your hand in his, he continues to hold it the whole way back. You’ve gone quiet again, pensive, making him wonder if he’s done something wrong, or, worse, if you regret kissing him. 
You only started acting like this after he pressed his lips to yours, after he asked if it was life-changing for you like it was for him. 
He doesn’t know what else it could be, unless you figured out you just don’t feel the same way about him as he does about you. His heart drops into his stomach at the thought, his fingers subconsciously clenching around yours, making you glance up at him in concern. 
He stares forward resolutely, not ready to see confirmation of his fears in your gaze. 
By the time that big window and Anubis’s sleeping body come into view, Wonwoo has convinced himself that you feel nothing but friendship for him and simply don’t know how to say it. 
Still, he can’t help but try, one last time. 
“Do you think I could see you again before I go? I’ve got plenty of pictures and I fly out tomorrow night, so my day is clear.”
You take a second to think about it, your eyes shuttering as if you don’t want him to see the thoughts behind them, before you answer solemnly, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Oh,” he breathes out, feeling like all the air has been pulled out of his lungs. “You don’t… think it’s a good idea. Okay, I’ll, um, I’ll just go, then.”
He can’t even make himself look at you, knowing that his mouth is pinched in the way it does when he’s trying not to cry. He squeezes your hand once more before disentangling his fingers from yours, taking a step back, and turning to walk away so you can’t see him lift up his glasses and rub at his burning eyes. 
He doesn’t get far before you call out his name. 
“Wonwoo! I… It’s because you’re leaving,” you sound as close to tears as he feels, your voice plaintive and fragile. 
He stops short and chews on his lip, swiping at his face with rough hands as your footsteps sound on the cobblestones. You let him stay where he is but he feels your fingers clench in the back of his shirt, like you’re afraid he’ll still walk away. 
That touch is enough for him to turn around, his hand catching yours as it falls and his heart stuttering at the sheen of tear tracks on your face. He brings his other hand up to brush his thumb under your eye, sweeping away a freshly fallen drop. 
“Is that why you said maybe, after I kissed you?” He asks in a gentle, low tone, less fearful of the answer now. 
“Yes. This has an expiration date, I don’t get to keep you. I couldn’t admit that just one kiss had me ready to sell my shop, buy a new cat carrier, and join you on the road,” you laugh softly in a self-deprecating way, avoiding his gaze again like you’re embarrassed. 
“Y/n, when I said it was life-changing for me, I meant it. As in, I would change my life for you. I can transfer to the Italian branch, go on shorter assignments, find a place here. You can keep me.”
“Wonwoo, I can’t ask you to do all that for me. I mean, we only met a few days ago, how do you know you won’t regret this?” You sound reluctant to accept his offer, but it seems to be coming from a place of worry for him instead of a lack of feeling, and he can work with that.
“I’ve been thinking about settling down anyway, I just needed a sign. Meeting you was that sign, and getting to know you like this has only made me more and more sure. Please, all you have to do is believe in me.”
Finally, you meet his eyes, searching them like you did when he asked you out, and once again, you find what you’re looking for. A watery smile stretches your lips as you step closer to him and up onto your tiptoes, wrapping your free arm around his neck and pulling him into a hug. 
His eyelids flutter shut, his arm vining around your waist and hauling you up against his body so you can feel his galloping heart. He presses his lips to the top of your head and breathes you in, finding your scent absolutely intoxicating. 
It’s fruity like pomegranate but sweet and floral too, reminding him of the lotus flowers he stumbled across in the southern Himalayas. There’s an underlying warmth, a natural musk that makes him wonder if you’re wearing perfume or if you just smell like this on your own. 
He doesn’t really care either way, not now that he has you so close, your joined hands coming up to rest against his shoulder and your body relaxing into his. You stay like that until his heart returns to a somewhat normal pace, before he pulls away just far enough to look down at you. He tugs his hand free so he can cup your face, whispering, “I’m gonna kiss you again, okay?” 
“Please do,” you whisper back, taking in a shuddering breath just before he locks his lips with yours. You sigh it out into his mouth and he swallows it like it’s a benediction, your tongue dragging against his as he kisses you and kisses you and kisses you. 
He’s about to let out a groan when a wooden shutter bangs against the stone building above, a loud voice shouting, “Prendi una stanza!”
“É la città dell'amore, Stefano, dacci una pausa!” You break away to shout back, grinning at Wonwoo’s flaming cheeks. 
“Y/n? Vai avanti, caro!” The shutter snaps closed again and Wonwoo bends over in a full body laugh, clutching his stomach as his abs flex with mirth. You’re not laughing like he is, but you are watching with affection and only the slightest bit of embarrassment. 
When he’s finally regained his composure, he straightens and wipes at his cheeks again, crying for a completely different reason than before. You smile up at him fondly, reaching out to fix his hair and asking, “Since you’re free tomorrow, do you want to come up for some coffee?”
Wonwoo doesn’t know if you’re really offering refreshments or if the coffee is a euphemism for something else, but either way, it’s an easy answer. 
“Of course I do.”
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Anubis starts meowing as soon as you unlock the door to your shop, loping over on graceful paws and weaving between your feet. 
“You had your dinner, why are you shouting at me?” You ask as you crouch to pick him up, holding him like a baby and scratching at his stomach gently. 
“Maybe he missed you?”
You mull it over for a little bit, nodding your head in acceptance and admitting, “I don’t usually go out at night, so maybe he did.”
“Is that why your neighbor was fine with us making out as soon as he figured out it was you?” 
You lightly jab him in the stomach with your elbow and he pretends to be mortally wounded, stumbling and groaning dramatically as if he’d been hit with an arrow instead. 
He supposes he has been, but it was one of Cupid’s, not one of yours. 
Anubis twists out of your arms and you let him, locking the entrance to your store and leading Wonwoo to the back. You unlock one of the doors with a huff of exertion and a jiggle of the handle, turning to say, “Old building,” before pushing the door open and letting Anubis dart up the staircase in front of you. Wonwoo jerks the door closed and locks it with the key you hand him, following you up the stairs in near darkness. 
The room you lead him into is a bit smaller than your store, containing a compact kitchen and warm living room flanked by a wall with two doors. “Bathroom is on the right, if you need it.”
He slips off his shoes and excuses himself to freshen up, taking care of his business and washing his hands quickly. Chancing a look in the mirror, Wonwoo finds that he’s flushed, aglow with infatuation, his smile irrepressible and wider than ever. He almost can’t look himself in the eye, knowing that all he’d find is adoration for you, and perhaps a bit of nervousness. 
He doesn’t know what to expect now, doesn’t know if this is leading where he thinks it is or how to act in whatever case. But, not wanting to keep you waiting, he opens the door and shuts off the light, finding you sitting at your dining table with a full french press and two mugs in front of you. 
He wants to speed over but he strolls instead, trying to appear at least a little unaffected. That facade is broken when he stops a few feet from the table, suddenly unsure of whether he should sit next to you or opposite from you. 
Blessedly, you make the choice for him, sliding one mug across the table before smoothly depressing the plunger of the french press. 
The rich smell of coffee permeates the air as you gracefully pour, filling his cup with the steaming, dark liquid before filling yours. “Is black okay? I have sugar and oat milk, if you need them.”
“Black is great, thank you.”
He’s acclimated to the bitterness enough to appreciate the deeper notes, though it’s only because he was once too shy to ask for sugar. He sips carefully, wondering with a satisfied hum if this really is the best coffee he’s ever had or if he just thinks that because you made it for him. 
You fall into an easy chat, discussing pictures he took and customers you had while he was out and about, before you bite your lip and stare down into your coffee like it’ll give you strength. 
“Wonwoo, can I ask you something… personal?” 
Your eyes slowly return to his, and the heat in your gaze makes him want to pop open a few buttons on his shirt and fan himself.  
“Sure,” he says, with only a little trepidation. 
“What are you like in bed?”
Oh. 
Oh. You want to know what he’s like in bed. 
Have you thought about what he’s like in bed? Have you thought about being in bed with him? Have you thought about him and touched yours-
He should answer you before he lets himself get carried away.
“Um, I’m a little different, I suppose. I like to be more… dominant. Maybe a bit rougher than I may seem,” his voice is hushed, and he wants to look away from the intensity of your stare, but he finds he can’t. It’s like you’ve hypnotized him, entranced him with a single question. 
“Is there anything specific that you like?”
This conversation, he likes this conversation. A lot. He can feel his slacks tightening with it, his heart thumping far too hard to be healthy and his mind starting to offer up ideas so fast he can barely make sense of them. 
They’re mostly images, sensations, feelings, all modeled after you. 
“I like,” he begins slowly. “I like being in control. I think I’d like holding you down, making you take what I’m giving you. I like talking,” he chuckles wryly, before continuing.
“I like listening too. I wouldn’t want you to hold back, I’d want to hear every little noise I could pull out of you. And I think I’d really like using my hands first, making you cum until you cry. Or until you beg for my cock.”
You suck in a ragged breath and glance away before looking back at him. Finally, he can read you, desire obvious on your face and in the tight knuckled grip you have on your mug. 
You set it down cautiously, aware of the still scalding coffee inside, and push away from the table to stand. Wonwoo watches you walk around to his side, his gaze fighting to stay on your face and not on the way your dress moves over your thighs as you get closer and closer to him. 
You stop just a foot away, holding your hand out and waiting for him to take it with a slight air of impassioned impatience. He places his hand in yours and rises to his feet, valiantly ignoring the view of your breasts from this angle and following you when you turn and begin tugging him to the door on the left. 
“Are we done talking?” Wonwoo asks, exhilarated and aroused, his dick hardening so quickly it leaves him feeling dizzy. 
“Not even a little bit,” you breathe, pushing the door open and facing him again as you walk backwards towards your bed. 
He crosses the few steps between you, crowds you up to the edge of the bed and pushes you to lay down with a gentle hand on your shoulder. His hands won’t stay gentle for long, and he hopes you understand what you’ve gotten yourself into. 
“If you don’t like something I do, tell me,” he whispers before leaning down and taking hold of your legs, pulling them apart and filling the space in between with his hips. 
“I will,” you gasp as he grinds against you, your dress pooled at the top of your thighs, just barely exposing your black panties. “But I don’t think I’ll need to.” 
I like everything you do. 
You don’t say it but he hears it anyway, the corner of his mouth lifting in a soft smirk before he braces his hands on either side of your head and moves in close. He doesn’t kiss you yet, just watches the way your eyelids flutter shut and your lips pout in preparation. You peek an eye open when he continues to hold himself away from you, your hand rising to cup his neck and attempt to tug him down to you. 
The second your fingers come into contact with him, he shifts his weight to one hand and grips your wrist with the other, pushing it down to the bed and holding it there. You bite back a smile, wriggle beneath him to get more comfortable, and drape your other hand above your head. 
That, he likes, and he rewards you by releasing your wrist and dragging his fingers up your inner thigh instead, digging them into the warm, soft flesh and groaning when he comes into contact with your panties. They’re soaking, so much wetter than he expected, and when he cups his big, cold hand over the seat of them, you shiver and buck up into his touch. 
“How long has it been for you?” Wonwoo asks, as if it hasn’t been literal years for him. 
“Um, a while, it’s been… a while,” you admit, seemingly shy for the first time. He should reassure you, but he likes the way you shrink beneath him, likes even more the thought of being your first in however long. He plans on being your last for the foreseeable future, so it’s only right he’s the one to break your dry spell. 
“Good,” he grins wickedly down at you, pulling your panties to the side and letting his fingers glide through your arousal. You’re soft, and sopping wet, and hot, so fucking hot, just for him, and already he’s wondering if he’ll be able to make good on his words.
If he’ll be able to hold himself back from you long enough to make you beg for it. 
He’ll do his best though, for you, and that starts with not grinding himself into your thigh. He needs to forget about his own pleasure, focus solely on yours, or he’ll be balls deep inside you before he’s even made you cum once. 
That won’t do, not when he wants you writhing on his fingers and pleading for his cock. 
So he pulls his hips away from you and tucks the tip of one digit into your entrance, sliding it in slowly enough that your face crumples in impatience, a low whine escaping you when he just leaves it there and drags his thumb over your clit. 
He wants to take his time, wants to learn you with his hands and his teeth and his tongue, wants to catalog your reactions and be able to take you apart diligently, passionately, like you deserve. 
This teaches him that you don’t like to be teased, and he decides to shelve the idea of edging for another day. He’ll go with overstimulation instead, he thinks, working another finger inside and rubbing more firmly with his thumb. Your face relaxes, your mouth opening on a sigh, and Wonwoo can’t resist leaning down to suck at your plump bottom lip as he curls his fingers inside of you, not yet searching for the spot that will make you gush for him. 
He’ll find it when he’s ready, when he feels like he’s built you up enough, and then he’ll use it to push you over the edge as many times as you can take. For now, he’ll savor the taste of your noises and start stretching out your perfect cunt. 
He pulls away from your mouth, fully aware that he could get lost in your kiss and intent on talking to you more before he lets that happen. 
“You feel so fucking good wrapped around my fingers like this. You know that, don’t you? You know how your cunt hugs them, sucks them in deeper and deeper, because you touch yourself, right?” 
You nod and Wonwoo allows it, won’t make you follow all of his rules until next time, until he’s sure you can handle it. 
“Did you touch yourself for me that night? After we met?” He asks softly, rewarding you with a tap right into your sweet spot when you cry out, “Yes!” 
“Did you say my name when you came?” His fingers pick up speed inside of you, fucking in and out to the beat of his own pounding heart. 
“Yes, Wonwoo,” you whimper, your hands twisting in the sheets above your head and your eyes squeezing shut before he pulls his fingers out and lands a wet smack on your inner thigh. You gasp and try to close your legs but Wonwoo is stronger than you, holds them open with both hands before leaning in close to kiss the stinging skin and say, “Keep your eyes on me.”
You nod tearily, holding his gaze as he sinks his fingers back inside of you and hovers close enough to your pussy that he’s sure you can feel his breath. He quirks his fingers up just as his tongue makes contact with your clit, and the way your lashes flutter but don’t fall brings a proud smirk to his face. 
“You’re a good listener, aren’t you?” He murmurs into your cunt. You start to answer but then he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, and you shudder out a moan instead. The sound sends electricity zipping down his spine and straight into his cock, making it throb for you in his slacks. 
He ignores it, shifting to rest on his knees and sucking harder, grinding his fingertips up into your front wall so he can draw that same sound out of you again. He told you before that he wanted to hear every little noise he could pull from you, and he meant it, including noises that don’t come from your mouth. 
You’re getting so wet, he can hear it, his fingers squelching inside of you with every thrust, every curl. He doesn’t remember his past partners being so aroused, and he’s already obsessed, already dead set on making you fucking drench him. 
He knows all he needs to do is make you cum and you’ll give him exactly what he wants, so he taps into your g-spot with more force, fucking his fingers into you hard and fast until your cries reach a fever pitch and your back arches. He doesn’t stop, dragging you through your orgasm and pushing you further even as your cunt ripples and squeezes around his fingers, the sensation so intense he almost feels the phantom pulse of you around his dick, too. 
It makes him groan, a deep, dark sound muffled by your pussy, and that seems to be what sends you careening over the edge again, your thighs attempting to clamp shut around him. He lightly smacks one with his free hand, gripping the soft fat and pushing it up and out so he has enough room to work. The other settles on his shoulder but he doesn’t mind that, likes the weight of it, wants you to feel stable and secure as he takes you apart piece by piece. 
You’re writhing on his hand, just like he wanted, your gaze teary and nearly empty, like your beautiful brain is focused on him and him alone, and ohhhh, he likes that, he likes that a lot. He wants to wreck you, wants to leave you with nothing in your head but thoughts of him and when he’ll make you break again. 
He doesn’t know if you can, but he’s desperate to see you flood him, to make you squirt all over him, regardless of the fact that this shirt is dry clean only. He’ll scrub it out in the sink if he has to, doesn’t care what happens to the fibers if it means he can make you cum hard enough to ruin them. 
You’re getting close again, he thinks with lurid satisfaction, his hand a blur between your thighs. He pulls away to murmur, “Hold your leg for me,” waiting for understanding to spark in your eyes. You wrap your hand beneath your knee and manage a wobbly smile, and Wonwoo feels affection burst in his chest like a firework, his lips curving in response as he brings his now free hand to your cunt. 
His fingers push at the crest of your pussy, exposing your swollen clit for his thumb to cover, the pad of it pressing down and rubbing harsh circles. Your eyebrows furrow and your eyes water, your mouth stuck open on a needy moan that grows louder with every tap of your g-spot. It’s a whine soon enough, one that hitches in your throat as he fucks you with his fingers, and when he grinds his fingertips deep into you, he sees alarm grow in your eyes. 
You try to warn him but you can’t seem to speak, only blubbers of his name gracing his ears, making him grin ferally and say, “Don’t worry, baby, I want it to happen. I want you to fucking soak me, now.”
He honestly didn’t expect that to work but apparently, you can cum on command, or, as he tells himself, on his command, because you suck in a deep breath and keen for him. Your cunt flutters wildly around his fingers, clenching down on them and sucking them in before tightening to the point that he can’t move them, his fingertips locked into your sweet spot as you fucking gush. 
He can feel it spraying out onto his face and dampening his button down, arousal flowing out of you like a rushing river, making him groan out, “Fuck yes, just like that.” 
His voice is gravelly and low, desire deepening its pitch, and you shiver above him, though that may have more to do with the thumb still strumming your clit and the fingers still plugging you up. 
He could go again but he doesn’t want to push you too far this first night, doesn’t know where your limits lay or if you’re ready for him to find out for himself, so when your walls finally release his fingers, he slowly pulls them out and gently cups your pussy to help you calm down. 
He’s surprised when you speak, and even more shocked that it’s enough to make him laugh out loud. 
“All that and you didn’t even take my dress off,” you mumble, letting go of your thigh and reaching down to drift a hand over his hair, petting him like he’s an animal you’ve domesticated. 
Maybe he is, and maybe you have. You’re the only one that’s ever made him want to stay, to plant roots, to be domestic. 
Fondly, he says, “I did that on purpose. Now whenever you wear it, you’ll think about me.”
“I don’t need the dress to think about you, Wonwoo, I promise you that,” you hum, letting your eyes slip closed and missing the way his gaze fills with infatuation as he rests his cheek on your thigh and wraps his hands around your ankles. 
His glasses are splattered with you and so is the rest of him, his cock is hard and aching and leaky, and his knees are all but decimated from kneeling on your wood floor for so long, but Wonwoo has never been happier in his life. 
“Will you fuck me now?” 
His brows raise in disbelief, his fingers twitching on your legs, and he stands as quickly as he can manage, bracing one hand beside your head and taking hold of your chin with the other. You blink open your eyes to look at him, the haze in them just a bit clearer, though he’s sure your thoughts are still clouded with pleasure. 
“You still want me?” He asks in full seriousness, his dick pulsing at the thought of feeling your flawless cunt wrapped around it. 
“Yeah, you gonna make me beg?” You murmur, your gaze just a touch defiant. 
He wants to fuck that rebelliousness out of you. 
“I said I’d like to, didn’t I?” He responds slowly, greed simmering in his veins and surely obvious on his face. 
Your eyes narrow before you visibly collect yourself, finding that submissive side you seemed to lean into before. He watches as you let it take over, shrinking beneath him somehow, the expression on your face needy and compliant.
“Please Wonwoo, please give me your cock. I’ve thought about it since we met, since I noticed how built you were under that soaking white shirt. Your shoulders are so broad and your hands are so big and you’re so much taller than me. All I wanted was for you to pin me down and fuck me however you liked, and that’s still all I want.”
He sucks in a deep breath through his nose, carefully concealing how fucking wild your words make him feel. He needs to maintain this illusion of control or you’ll gain the upper hand, and he can’t let that happen. He’s already going to give you exactly what you want, he’ll die before he lets you be smug about it too. 
It takes everything in him but he manages to pull away, releasing your chin and standing at his full height, a smirk rising at the way your hands leave their place above your head to cling to him. 
“Get up. Take your dress off,” he commands stoically, backing up and giving you space to push off the bed onto your feet. Your hands tremble as you reach for the hem, and in a brief moment of tenderness, he covers them with his and lifts it with you, laughing and helping you wrench it off when it gets stuck at the elbows. 
He stops laughing when you fling the dress onto the chair in the corner of your room and stare up at him, clad in just your skewed panties and a little bitten off grin. His eyes fall to your breasts, the shape and weight of them immaculate, just begging for his mouth. He fully plans on worshiping them at the next possible opportunity, but he’s got a different goal in mind now. His hands gravitate to your hips, fingertips tucking in the waistband of your underwear and pulling them down before returning to push you gently toward the bed. 
“Lay down for me.”
Wonwoo doesn’t know why he’s being soft on you now. He’s still hard enough to cut glass but something in him just can’t be harsh when he feels like he does about you, especially after you already took what he gave you so well. Maybe it’s the vulnerable look in your eyes, maybe it’s the way his heart feels three sizes too big for his chest. 
But maybe it’s because when he looks back on your first time together, he doesn’t want it to look like his previous encounters. He wants it to look like a couple that loves each other, that knows they want to be together, that will make sacrifices for each other. 
Obviously, dominating you can still look like that, but right now his soul aches to be gentle with you. Emotionally, at least. 
He’s still going to fuck you into your mattress, he’ll just be kinder about it. 
You can tell that something has shifted in him and somehow it makes you even more pliant, your face open as you patiently wait for his next instruction. He doesn’t give one yet, reaching up to take his glasses off and wipe away the drying release with the edge of his button down before setting them on your night stand. 
He works on getting naked, swiftly unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off, carelessly letting it float down to the floor as he undoes his pants. He removes his socks next, pairing them up and dropping them to the side before pushing down his boxer briefs. 
It occurs to him that you haven’t talked about safety at all, and as he climbs over you, his thick, leaking dick dragging against your skin, he asks, “Do we need a condom?”
You swear under your breath and look down, biting your lip before whispering, “I’m not on birth control, and I have condoms but I honestly don’t think they’ll fit you. Do you have any?” 
He swears too, remembering the expired one in his wallet and sighing, “Not one that we could use. I get tested regularly and I’m negative for everything, but what do you wanna do?” 
“Um, well… I haven’t had sex since I last got tested and everything was clear, so what if you pull out? I track my cycle and I’m not ovulating right now.”
It’s risky, and sex without a condom isn’t something Wonwoo’s ever had, but he wants you more than anything, and he believes in his ability to honor your wishes and pull out when he needs to. 
“Let’s do that this one time, and I’ll get condoms for the future,” he agrees, smiling at the way your eyes get brighter when he says ‘future’. 
He settles back into his role seamlessly, though this time, he’s less domineering and more caring, to be sure. Your legs are already spread for him, but he slips his hands under your knees and tucks them up to your chest, resting your calves on his shoulders and setting one hand on the bed to hold himself up. 
The other reaches for his dick, and he fights back a shiver at the chill of his own touch, his perpetually cold hands freezing compared to his searing hot cock. He can’t help but lay it over your pussy, feeling his ears and the back of his neck tingle with a blush when he estimates where he’ll end inside of you. 
You squirm beneath him and he brings his hands back to your thighs, pulling his hips back enough to notch the head of his dick in your entrance before starting to push inside. You’re tight like this, all folded up, but your walls part to welcome him like he’s a missing piece of you, like he’s always been meant to fill you up when you’re empty. 
He moves slowly, not to tease you but to savor you, luxuriating in the feeling of your velvet heat, your perfect cunt as it forms around him. It could be minutes or hours before he bottoms out, but when he does, he almost can’t think, he’s so consumed by sensation. 
He closed his eyes without realizing it, and now he forces them open, only to find you already staring up at him, your gaze unwavering and your hands coming up to hold his where they push at your thighs. 
You seem breathless, and it’s probably partly due to the position but Wonwoo prefers to think it’s because you’re as overwhelmed as he is, so wrought with pleasure that it toes the line of pain. 
You’re still shorter than him, even like this, so he has to curve down to kiss you but it’s worth it because you bloom for him, moaning into his mouth and clenching around his cock when he glides his tongue against yours. With your lips still pressed to his, he draws his hips back a few inches, enough to feel air cling to the wetness on his cock, before thrusting inside sharply. His hips meet your ass with a loud smack, the only other noise in the room being your muffled whimpers and the wet sound of his lips moving against yours. 
Again, he pulls out, almost to the tip this time, and sends his hips forward, grunting at the feeling of your cunt embracing him. It’s perfection, you’re perfection, and he resolves to be nothing but perfect for you too. 
He swallows your sounds and categorizes them; you whimper when he pulls out far and thrusts in deep, moan when he just grinds himself into you, yelp when he fucks you with sharp, fast bucks of his hips. He follows their lead like he’s untying a knot or working through a maze, methodically dismantling you down to your nuts and bolts. 
You’re barely kissing him back when he finally derives the best combination of pace and depth, your lips quivering against his as you whine continuously, the pitch rising every time he reaches the end of you. Your eyes are open but they’re glazed over, and he can’t tell if he’s fucked you dumb or fucked you to tears but either way, it makes his lips stretch in a vicious grin. 
He loves kissing you but that’s not what’s happening anymore, so he pulls away and puts more of his weight on your thighs, using the leverage to fuck into you harder. He doesn’t go faster, knowing that if he does, this will end far sooner than he wants it to. 
He’d like to draw at least one more orgasm from you before he cums, and he can’t do that if he’s got even more friction on his cock. He’s a little surprised there is any with how wet you are, but you’re perfectly matched to his size so your walls grasp him tight every time he pulls back, the drag of them flawless on his sensitive skin. 
Your sounds are louder now that he’s not muffling them with his mouth, melodic in his ears and something he knows he’ll reproduce in his mind again and again, whenever he’s away from you and feeling particularly lonely. 
He’ll have to cut down on his traveling now that he’s got you, but that doesn’t scare him like it used to. Instead, he’s excited to have someone who makes him want to stay and build a home, build a life. He kind of feels like this is the first step, making you his and giving himself to you in return, and it’s enough to make his cock twitch and leak just a little bit of precum inside of you. 
He takes that for the warning it is, consciously veering away from thoughts of domesticity and belonging before dedicating the whole of his body to making you cum. He pushes away from you to sit up on his knees and haul your ass into his lap, your calves still resting on his shoulders and his dick just barely inside of you. 
He angles his hips and thrusts back in shallowly, no longer hitting as deep but aiming the head of his cock at that innervated patch inside of you. Your eyes grow wide and you suck in a deep gasp, your fingers clenching around his where they hold your legs, your reaction letting him know he’s got you. 
He fucks into that spot relentlessly, wondering if he can make you cum with just his cock. He stimulated your clit before too but you feel like you’re getting close, and he doesn’t want to change something trying to help only to hinder you instead. 
He doesn’t have much time to think before you’re crying out his name urgently, your tone plaintive and your voice thin. It sounds like you’re right on the edge, looks like it too, your brows screwed up in pleasure and your eyes bright with bliss. He’s almost as close as you are, his orgasm spooled up at the base of his spine and ticking like a time bomb, just waiting for him to let himself go. 
“Cum, baby,” he pants, hoping beyond hope that you’ll listen and obey just one more time. He doesn’t know how much longer he can hold on, prays that he’ll be able to endure the euphoria your climax will bring, that he won’t have to ruin it by pulling out while you’re deep in its thrall. 
But you do listen, thank fuck, you do, your eyes rolling back and your cunt clamping down on him in a vise grip, the sheer heat and wetness of you enough to pull a strangled groan from deep in his throat. It takes everything in him not to cum with you, the feeling incredible and the sight just as glorious, the impact of both beyond the realm of imagination. 
He lasts just long enough to get you through your aftershocks, his chest heaving for air as he makes himself pull out of the eden of your cunt. Blood rushes in his ears and fluffy cotton candy fills his head, his thoughts no more than paper airplanes gliding on a warm breeze. He watches his cum cover your perfect tits in white stripes, feeling as if he’s out of his body and out of his mind. 
Your hands squeeze his and you breathe his name, slowly pulling him back to you, like he’s a balloon that’s floated away and you’ve miraculously caught his string. You’re blurry in his vision and he can’t tell if it’s because he doesn’t have his glasses on or if he’s just crying, but either way he releases your legs and leans in close to see you better. 
You cup his cheeks and pull him into a soft kiss, the soothing, reassuring pressure bringing him back down to earth, back to you. He should be the one taking care of you right now, but he feels like he’s been cracked open, his soul and his heart bare, unprotected. 
“You’re okay,” you whisper, petting his cheekbones with your thumbs, and that’s what restarts him. 
He presses his lips to yours ardently, gathering up all of his feelings and pouring them into you, the intensity drawing a gentle sigh that travels from your mouth to his. He breathes it in before pulling away and focusing on you.
Lying down next to you, he pulls you into his arms, uncaring of the sticky cum that smears on his chest when your breasts press against him. He holds you for a while, until his heartbeat feels close to normal and his head feels close to clear. He’s about to drift off when he remembers how dirty you both still are.
“Do you want to shower?” He asks in a low voice, grinning at the way your face scrunches in displeasure at the thought before you look up at him and respond, “Are we going to fuck again tonight?” 
He thinks on it for a moment, weighing options and offering his opinion, “I don’t want to tempt fate too many times, so I think we should just go to sleep for now and go out for condoms and Plan B tomorrow morning. Then I’ll fuck you all day, if you want.” 
You smile serenely and nod, your eyes already half lidded with exhaustion. 
“Does that mean you do want to shower, then?” He confirms, his fingers drumming on your bare back. 
“Yeah,” you pout, obviously reluctant to get up and get clean. 
“I’ll go start it and come get you when it’s warm. Don’t worry, baby, I’ll do all the work,” he promises you, grinning when your pout stretches into a pleased little smile. 
He climbs out from under you and off the bed, walking on shaky knees to the bathroom, his soft cock hanging between his legs. He wonders if you have a washer, his shirt and boxers are not usable in their current state, but he can just use the sink if he needs to. He’ll have to go back to his hotel sometime tomorrow, to change and gather his things for his flight back home, and he’s already dreading the idea of it. 
It would be nice if he could get his film camera, maybe take a few pictures of you to tide him over until his transfer is finalized and he can find an apartment here. He feels like you’d be up for that, imagines photographing you in all kinds of positions and varying states of undress, safe in the knowledge that he can rent a darkroom and develop them himself. 
He struggles for a minute but figures out your shower eventually, turning it on and standing by until steam gathers on the mirror. He catches a glance at himself just before it fogs over, blushing at the image staring back at him. 
His lips are swollen and red, his cheeks flushed with exertion and joy, his eyes luminous for what feels like the first time in years. You’ve made your mark on him, tattooed him in gold, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever be the same. 
That’s not something he minds. He even finds himself smiling at the idea of rearranging his pieces to fit with yours, of making space in his life for you and Anubis to fill. 
When he leaves the bathroom to get you, the cat is laying on the dining table, sprawled out with his eyes closed, and Wonwoo breathes a sigh of relief. If he’s being honest, he forgot entirely that there was another being in this apartment, and he’s glad your activities didn’t seem to disturb him. 
He wants to smooth a hand down Anubis’s side but doesn’t want to wake him, so he stares at the cat for just a second longer before turning to your bedroom and poking his head through the door frame. 
You’re starfishing on the bed, his cum mostly dry on your tits and your eyes gently shut, and he can’t contain the laugh that bubbles out of his chest. 
Like mother, like son.
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Wonwoo draws in a deep, centering breath as he raises the camera to his bespectacled eye, grateful not for the first time that he’s in the city of love. 
This will be the first proposal he’s photographed today, the third this week, and for someone who’s always thought he didn’t mind love, he finds himself unbelievably excited. 
He calls your name, watches dust motes float through a shining sunbeam as you stir in the bed you share, your tired gaze finding him before it lands on the book beside you. Or, more accurately, on the ring sitting on the book beside you. 
You draw in a sharp gasp, your eyes flying to his, and he depresses the shutter button just as your face breaks into a beam bright enough to rival a supernova. 
He thinks this will be his favorite photograph yet. 
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AN: And the book was titled April Shower and it contains your love story as written by your best friend, the end 💖
“Prendi una stanza!” - "Get a room!"
“É la città dell'amore, Stefano, dacci una pausa!” - "It's the city of love, Stefano, give us a break!"
“Y/n? Vai avanti, caro!” - "Y/n? Carry on, dear!"
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gunnerfc · 2 days
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breakup with your boyfriend, I'm bored | Steph Catley x Arsenal!Reader (18+)
Summary: You and Steph, despite your past situationship ending, still have a tension-filled relationship and it eventually amounts to something during a night out with the team
Warnings: cheating, bottom steph, top reader, strap use (steph receiving), some angst, fingering (r receiving), thigh riding (steph), r calling steph ‘baby’ ‘babe’ and ‘good girl’
WC: 4.7k
AN 1: cheating bad but 🧎
AN 2: this became my longest fic ever without me planning it to be 😭 I think it might be in my top 2 fics I’ve written tho 🥴
You sighed as you got out of your car, the tough preparation for the match against Manchester City starting to affect you. You stretched your arms as you stood up fully, a small groan leaving your lips as your muscles stretched. While stitching and getting your training bag from the car, you missed when a familiar car pulled into the parking lot.
A familiar car you spent plenty of evenings fogging up the windows. 
Your jaw locked when your eyes finally landed on Steph getting out of her car. You two haven't spoken in a few weeks since the defender ended your “relationship” and started dating someone else. Your relationship with Steph was complicated, there were feelings from the both of you mixed with the excitement of sleeping together. It all became too much for Steph when some of your teammates almost caught you two during an away game. 
Without talking about it, Steph ended your friends-with-benefits relationship and moved on quickly in hopes of getting over you. The defender refused to talk to you unless it was during training or a game and she had no other choice. 
You stopped in your place as you watched her get her things, hoping she’d at least make eye contact with you. You leaned against your car door slightly just as Steph turned in your direction, freezing in her place. You two looked eyes for a moment before she quickly rushed inside, leaving you alone once again. 
You couldn’t help but feel jealous over her new relationship, you thought there was something between you two and you hated how easy it was for her to find someone new. With a small huff, you pushed off your car and headed inside, already dreading being close to Steph and not being able to do anything.
Normal pre-training things took place and went by quickly and soon you found yourself on the training pitch with a drizzle hitting your skin. You listened as Jonas and the other trainers explained the drills for the day, your eyes drifting toward Steph every so often. She caught your eye after a minute before you could look away and the look in her eye made you weak in the knees. You might have been upset she wouldn’t talk to you but she still had the same effect over you. 
You looked away first, trying to refocus on Jonas’ instructions rather than the defender across from you. You subtlety rilled your eyes when Jonas mentioned a small scrimmage, knowing you would be placed on the opposing team Steph would be on. Being a forward meant you two often went head to head on the pitch and with tensions rising between you, you were sure it would translate in your play. 
The training drills went by quickly as the rain became heavier. You tried your hardest to divert your eyes away from Steph’s soaking body knowing the thoughts that would pop into your head would distract you. Each time you looked away from her, the defender’s eyes were locked on you, though she was less subtly as her eyes scanned your body. She knew it was wrong to still feel this way for you when she was seeing someone else but she couldn’t help it.
You groaned softly when Jonas shouted the teams for the scrimmage and your suspicion was proven correct when you were handed a different bib than the one Steph received. After listening to the quick instructions from one of the trainers, you joined Stina on the halfway line waiting for the whistle to be blown. You threw a quick glance toward Steph as you wiped the rain from your face, the defender’s eyes already locked on you. 
A small surge of cockiness filled your body as you planned how to get past her, the need to show off suddenly present. You took off the second you heard the whistle go, quick to find the open area waiting for the pass from your teammates. Just as Leah’s eyes landed on you, the blonde was passing you the ball allowing you to turn toward goal. Right as you turned, your legs were kicked from under you and landed on the soggy ground with a low groan. 
Steph didn’t bother offering you a hand as she quickly got rid of the ball, passing up the field toward Alessia. You lay on the ground for a moment to collect yourself before standing. You pulled at the wet training shirt that clung to your torso which gave a nice shot of your toned stomach. Steph’s eyes trailed across your body as she watched you, her breathing picking up slightly as memories flashed in her mind. 
The rest of the scrimmage was spent similarly. You were thrown to the ground every time you attempted to get past Steph. The very few times that you did manage to get past her, you sent a cocky smirk her way as you walked past her after scoring. You were thankful when Jonas finally called the scrimmage, the rain was steadily falling from the sky and no one wanted to be out there any longer than they needed to be.
Everyone quickly made their way to the locker room, the showers calling everyone’s names. You took your time, allowing some of your teammates to shower first as you waited. You were hoping that Steph would be one of the ones to go first but as she sat in her usual cubby, you were proven wrong.
“I think after this shit show of a training, we should go out for some drinks,” Katie’s accent sounded throughout the locker room.
A few cheers of agreement were her response but none from you. You weren’t sure if going out was something you needed when you had all these pent-up feelings. Hooking up with a stranger was not something you saw yourself doing. When you heard Steph agree when Beth asked her, you were quick to agree as well. Maybe this would be your chance to get the Aussie to speak to you off the pitch. 
After a few minutes of waiting, showers were once again free and you quickly jumped up from your seat to claim one. You took your time in the shower knowing you were one of the last ones and there wouldn’t be anyone else waiting. You were too in your head to realize you weren’t alone during your shower. 
With a towel wrapped around your body, you made your way back to the locker room to find it empty. You paid no attention to the other training bag on the other side of the room with a small ‘7’ etched into it. You hummed to yourself as you got clean clothes out of your bag and started getting dressed.
Just as you had your lower half covered, Steph rounded the corner with a towel wrapped around her body, seemingly under the same impression you were. She froze when she realized it was you and that you were completely topless. The defender’s eyes closed tightly as she swallowed softly, trying her best to forget what she had just seen. You rolled your eyes when you finally looked up from your things.
It’s not like she hasn’t seen you with less clothes on before. Steph did her best to navigate the room with her eyes closed until she knew you were no longer in her eyesight. Her breathing had picked up again as more memories flashed in her mind, memories she wasn't sure she’d ever forget. “You can look y’know. You’ve seen me in less, plenty of times,” you huffed as you finished getting dressed.
“That... was different,” Steph’s voice was raspier than normal, her thoughts too loud and too sensual to process anything else. 
You quickly glanced behind you, your eyes landing on the defender’s bare back as she tied the sweatpants around her waist. As your eyes trailed down her back, your mind flashed back to all the small kisses you’d left on her skin. This time it was your breath that picked up as you quickly looked back to your bag to finish putting everything back in there.
Steph quickly threw on the hoodie she had with her, not realizing it was your hoodie that you had left at her place. When you both turned to leave, your eyes locked on the clothing she was wearing. Your cockiness returned as you smirked slightly while heading toward the door. “You always did look good in my clothes, babe,” you teased as you threw her a quick glance over your shoulder before you left her standing alone. 
A tint of red dusted Steph’s cheeks as she looked down at the hoodie, noticing the logo of the university you attended. The defender tried her best to forget your words as she exited the locker room, though your voice echoed in her mind the entire walk to her car. You were long gone by the time she sat down in the driver's seat, sighing loudly at the confusion she felt. 
You huffed softly as you sat down on the couch, your body screaming at you to rest. You had a few hours before some of the team would be heading out so you opted for a short time until you needed to get ready. You quickly set an alarm before you got comfortable on the couch, eyes falling shut instantly as sleep took over you.
You groaned an hour later when your alarm went off, pulling you from an exciting dream. Your moment with Steph in the locked room followed you into dreamland and your dreams were filled with the low moans of the defender as she begged for more. You took a deep breath before sitting up and stretching. You took as much time as you could picking out an outfit, doing your best to pick things out that you knew Steph loved seeing you in. 
You quickly sent a text in the team group chat to say you were on your way and headed out the door. Thankfully the place Katie had picked out wasn’t too far from your place and you were there a few short minutes later. You quickly parked before heading inside, most of your teammates had gotten there a few minutes early but already had a table for everyone. 
“You look hot, y/n/n,” Leah whistles as you take a seat opposite of her at the table. You playfully roll your eyes at her words before blowing her a teasing kiss. The defender dramatically acted out catching the kiss before winking at you. 
Steph’s fist clenched at her side as she watched you with Leah, a small wave of jealousy hitting her. She shouldn’t feel this way anymore, not when it was her that ended things and was dating someone else. Her mind was drawn away from you as she chatted with Beth and Lia at the other end of the table though every so often her eyes would fall on you. 
“We should go dance!,” Leah shouted to the table, though she earned a few no’s from the more introverted people. 
The blonde cheered when you and Katie stood up, the Irish captain pulling Caitlin up with her despite the Australian’s protests. Steph followed you to the dance floor, her eyes scanning over your entire body as she took in your outfit for the first time that night. You’d worn different pieces that drove her crazy and it proved successful as her chest heaved slightly. Your teammates who stayed at the table laughed at the four of you before they returned to their previous conversations. 
Steph was in the perfect position to make it seem like she was still involved in the conversation while her eyes stayed locked on you. The defender’s jaw clenched when Leah was pressed against your front as you two moved to the music. You had a very fun friendship with Leah but it would not go beyond playfully flirting with each other, which Steph knew. But seeing you pressed so close to each other as you grind against one another had her seeing red. 
Steph offered her two cents here and there as she remained locked on you and Leah, her fists clenching under the table with each passing second. It became too much for her when you leaned in slightly in what looked like you kissing Leah’s neck. 
Steph quickly stood from the table, practically scaring Lia as she jumped slightly. “I’ll be back,” the Aussie cleared her throat as she made her way to the bathroom, passing you as she did so. 
Steph was grateful when she entered the bathroom to find it empty. She leaned against the sink for a moment before throwing some water on her face to cool her down. As she stood up again, a few paper towels were seen in her peripherals. She took them before dabbing her face, her eyes locking with yours when she could see again. 
You wore a teasing smirk on your face as you leaned against the wall with your arms crossed. “You alright, babe,” you asked, your voice laced with a teasing tone.
Steph didn’t respond as she threw the paper towels away. Your eyes followed her sharply as you waited for her to say something. Steph sighed as she leaned back against the sink, her arms mirroring yours as they crossed in front of her chest. The silence in the room was tense as you could just barely hear the echo of the music playing. 
You took a small step toward her as one of your hands landed on the sink behind her, her chest moving faster when you were this close to her. You slowly moved your other hand to rest on the counter as well, giving her enough time to push you away. When she didn’t, you had her pinned softly against the counter. 
Her eyes locked on the stalls behind your shoulder as your eyes traced her features. You moved one of your hands to her chin, guiding her head up slightly and forcing her to look at you. Your eyes dropped to her lips, not trying to hide it as you licked your lips lightly. Your eyes flashed up to hers, you two have done this enough times before that she knew what you were asking. 
With a small nod from the defender, your lips were on hers. You both moaned into the kiss, your lips fighting against each other’s. Steph’s arms uncrossed and moved to wrap around your neck, her hands locking behind you to keep you in your place. You moved your hands to her waist as you pulled her flush against you, your lips still battling for dominance. 
Steph’s body rolled against yours softly, your lips moving against hers as you slipped your tongue into her mouth. Your lips stayed locked until you could hear voices getting closer to the door. You pulled away from Steph, both of you slightly out of breath as you leaned your forehead against hers. “Do you wanna go back to my place,” you whispered slightly against her lips before giving her a quick peck. 
You could see her fighting with herself before she said yes, the cockiness you felt early making its reappearance. You smirked as you pulled away from her, your hands grabbing hers just as the bathroom door opened and two strangers walked in, completely ignoring the two of you. 
You dropped Steph’s hand the closer you got to your table before explaining that Steph wasn’t feeling well so you offered to take her home since she rode with Beth and Viv. You quickly told everyone goodnight before you headed for the door, Steph’s hand back in yours when you were out of range of your teammates. 
Excitement filled your body as you made your way to your car and opened the door for Steph. The defender gave you a quick peck as a thank you before you closed the door for her. The short drive back to your place was quiet, but this time it wasn’t filled with strong tension. Once you had parked, you were quick to open Steph’s door, offering her a hand as you helped her out of the car.
You wasted no time before you made your inside, quickly throwing your jacket and taking your shoes off. Steph followed you and as she was done, her back was pressed against your front door and your lips were on her neck. “Fuck,” she mumbled as her hand tangled in your hair as your lips left scattered kisses on her skin. You sucked hard on her skin, deep bruise-like marks soon to form. 
You pulled away from her neck, eyes locking with hers before kissing her again. This kiss was deeper than the one in the bathroom, your lips pressing against hers harshly as you held her against you tightly. With your lips intertwined, you guided her to your bedroom, having done something similar multiple times before. 
Her back was pressed against your soft mattress as you hovered over her, one of your hands holding her hip tightly. You pulled away from her slightly, the necklace you had worn dangling between the two of you. “Can you be a good girl and strip for me, hmm,” you mumbled as you pulled away from her completely. 
You moved off the bed as she sat up slightly, her breath labored as she watched you move the bottom drawer on your dresser. She shook her head slightly before she started stripping, her clothes falling to your floor. When you stood from where you crouched down, Steph was completely bare as she lay on your bed, one of her legs propped up as her chest heaved. 
Her eyes dropped the strap on in your hands as you made your way back to the bed, sitting the toy on the edge of the bed. Your eyes trailed over her naked form as you hurriedly removed your clothes, tossing them to join hers on your floor. Steph’s eyes dropped down your body as she let her eyes linger on your bare chest. You took your time harnessing the toy around your body, not wanting to rush anything between the two of you. 
You stood at the end of the bed as your eyes raked over her body before leaning forward to plant a small kiss on her calf that was propping her leg up. You trailed small kisses up her thigh, crawling forward as you did so. Steph moaned when you blew softly on her dripping cunt, your name falling from her lips as her hands held your comforter tightly. You laughed softly to yourself at how worked up she was when you had hardly done anything. 
You kneeled in over her, the strap on rubbing against her thigh softly. You pushed her propped-up leg down before pushing it open so her legs were stretched open for you. You moved slightly until you had the tip of the strap-on lined up with her soaked core before you pushed the toy into her. 
Steph’s moans grew louder the more you pushed into her until you bottomed out. You moved one of her thighs to wrap around your waist as you kept the other pressed open against the bed. You rolled your hips softly, letting her get used to the size again. Steph’s head fell back against your pillows as your hips moved, her jaw slack as small moans escaped her lips.
“Faster, please,” Steph begged, her fists white as her grip on your cover never let up. Her back arched slightly as you sped up your movements. 
Your hips snapped against her skin loudly as you fucked her, your tight grip on her body sending shock waves through her. Your name fell from her lips in a broken chant as you roughly thrust into her, lewd sounds echoing off your bedroom walls. 
“D’you like that baby,” your voice was rough as you moved the hand that was holding her waist to press softly on her lower stomach. 
“Fuck.. yes, yes!,” she managed to moan in between whines as you hit the familiar spot inside her. 
Steph’s hips rolled in time with your thrusts, her back arching more off your bed as she grew closer to the edge. You could hear just how wet she was as you fucked her, the loud sounds of your strap fucking her mixed with her moans had your head spinning. 
You sped up your movements even more, pushing her leg that was around your waist open to fuck her at a slightly different angle. Steph gasped a the new feeling as her eyes screwed shut, not far from letting go. “You gonna be a good girl and cum for me, baby,” you husked, your own orgasm close.
“Yes! I’m a good girl,” the defender whined as you moved one hand to rub her hardened clit. Steph didn’t last long after that as she let go making a mess all over your strap as she came. You didn’t slow down as you continued to fuck her, helping her ride out her high. 
You slowed your movements when Steph whined at the overstimulation and you slowly pulled out of her. She whined at the loss of contact as you undid the harness around your body, tossing the toy to the floor. You let go of her leg, chuckling softly when it fell to bed immediately. You moved up her body to give her a deep kiss, one of your hands running up and down her body to help her calm down.
“You good, baby,” you mumbled in between small kisses. 
Steph took a deep breath before nodding, still slightly out of breath. You smirked to yourself at her fucked out state before placing more kisses along her collarbones. After a minute, Steph had gotten control over her breathing and suddenly you were on your back, Steph straddling your thigh. You both moaned at the contact, the defender’s breath stuttering before she was good again.
“It’s your turn, y/n/n,” she mumbled as one of her fingers traced your hip bone.
Your breath faltered slightly as she traced closer to your wet core. After fucking her, it wouldn’t take much before you came as well. Two of Steph’s fingers ran through your slick folds, earning a low moan from you in the process. Without warning, her fingers were thrusting into you. You threw your head back in pleasure, your jaw falling as low moans fell from your mouth.
The sight of you in pleasure with her fingers pumping in and out of you was driving Steph crazy. As her fingers moved inside you, her hips rolled against your thigh, chasing another orgasm. Steph’s breathing was labored as she fuck you and herself, both of your moans mixed as you both chased that toe-curling feeling. Steph braced herself on your hip as she sped up her fingers, her hips following suit. 
“I’m so close, baby. Be a good girl and make me cum, please,” you grunted, your back arching off the bed slightly. One of your hands moved to hold her waist as she listened to your words.
You flexed your thigh just as you let go, earning a loud moan from Steph as she came for the second time that night. Her fingers paused inside you as her eyes fell shut in pleasure. Both of your chests heaved as you came down from your high. Steph pulled her fingers from you, your eyes flying open at the loss of contact. 
Your eyes locked with hers as she brought her two fingers to her mouth, the defender loudly moaning at the taste of you on her fingers. Your mouth fell open slightly as you watched her lick her fingers clean, your grip on her waist tightening as the sounds she was making. Steph pulled her fingers from her mouth with a small “pop” and moved to lay next to you. 
You both lay there staring at each other as you finally catch your breath. Your eyes trace over her face, taking every part of her features in before your eyes lock with hers. “Old habits die hard sometimes,” you joked, trying to keep the mood light.
Steph chuckled softly at your words before propping her head on her hand, her eyes filled with a look you had only seen once. “Don’t say it,” you mumbled, not wanting the mood to be broken just yet. 
Steph sighed softly before finding the art piece on your way much more interesting. “This shouldn’t have happened,” she muttered after a minute of silence.
“Because of him,” you asked, even though you knew the answer.
Steph swallowed softly before nodding which earned an eye roll from you. “Tell me you genuinely like him and I’ll agree, but otherwise it looks like you don’t really like him if you’re here with me,” you scoffed as you sat up slightly.
Steph moved to mirror your position, her fingers fiddling with each other as she thought about what to say. The defender took a deep breath before her eyes locked with yours again, this time small tears welled up in the corner of her eyes.
“I love you,” she started, her eyes widening slightly as if she couldn’t believe she said that. “I love you and that scares me. I’ve never felt this way about anyone else, certainly not him. I thought this was just a fun hook-up for you and I was too scared to ever say anything because I didn’t want to lose you,” Steph finished as she blinked rapidly to hold her tears in.
You didn’t say anything for a moment as you processed her words and your silence had Steph doubting everything she had just said. Steph licked her lips as more tears welled in her eyes before you chuckled. Your chuckle turned into a loud laugh as you shook your head.
Steph’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, as she waited for you to explain. “You thought I didn’t feel the same way? Damn, I must suck at giving signals,” you joked as you made eye contact with her again. 
“Steph, I think I’ve been in love with you from the moment we first met,” you confessed as you looked at her, she could see the truth in your eyes as you spoke. “I never knew how to tell you and then we hooked up after winning some game and I thought maybe you felt the same way but the next day you acted like nothing happened,” you continued, recounting the first time you ever slept together. 
“But then we kept hooking up and I didn’t want to mess anything up so I never said anything. And then you ended and wouldn’t talk to me,” you finished, not wanting to go further about how jealous you felt about the man she was currently seeing. 
Steph took in everything you said, realizing how much suffering you two could have avoided had you just communicated. “We suck at communication,” the Aussie joked as she slid closer to you, one of her hands moving to cup your cheek.
You turned slightly, pressing further into her touch as you laughed softly at her words. Her thumb ran across your bottom lip before she pressed her lips to yours. This kiss was softer than any kiss you ever shared, more love than lust behind it as you wrapped your hand around her wrist. Steph pulled away first, her forehead resting on yours as she kept her eyes closed.
“I need to call him,” she muttered, an irritated groan following her words.
“In the morning,” you cooed, “for now, I wanna make you feel better than he ever could,” you husked as you pushed her back into a laying position. 
You spent the rest of the night pleasuring each other, a new feeling behind every action now that you both had your feelings out there. You two might have sucked at communicating how you felt before, but now, you wouldn’t make the same mistake. Once Steph broke up with her boyfriend, the two of you could pursue an actual relationship that didn’t equate to just sex.
337 notes · View notes
madaqueue · 3 days
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4.20
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pairing: suguru geto x f!reader
themes/content: roommate geto. language, smut. smoking weed, high sex, pet names (angel, baby), praise, light nipple sucking, kissing, sex. 18+, MDNI
word count: 2.4k
a/n: blah blah drugs are bad whatever anyways geto would absolutely smoke irl
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You swing open the door to your apartment with a huff, throwing your bag down in the entryway and kicking your shoes across the hall.
“Bad day?” asks the familiar airy voice from across the room.
A sarcastic chuckle leaves your lips as you take your hair out of the tight bun you wear for work, shaking your head as it falls. “You don’t even know,” you respond, eyes traveling across the room to see the source of the question, your roommate Suguru, on the couch in your shared living room.
He sits with his legs spread, only adorned with grey sweatpants, his bare chest softly illuminated by the evening sun streaming in through the nearby window. Reaching his hand out, he grabs the bong perched on the coffee table, holding it up to you.
“Then you better get your ass over here, because I’ve been waiting all day for you to get home,” he teases.
He’s always known just what you need after a shitty day, a way to drown out the agitation your coworkers seem to never-endingly bring upon you. Running into your room, you quickly change into pajamas, desperate to remove the stuffy business casual outfit that always feels out of place on your body.
Now much more comfortable you return to the living room, slouching down next to him on the couch. “You didn’t have to wait,” you hum, reaching a hand out to grab the lighter, desperate for the mental respite of melting into that familiar high.
“‘Course I did,” he purrs, “no one else around to play with my hair the way you do, angel.”
Trying to ignore the butterflies building in your chest from the nickname, you flick the lighter on in your hand as you steady yourself above the glass piece. Igniting the carefully pre-packed bud, courtesy of Geto, the embers spread as you inhale the smoke. It burns slightly as it fills your lungs, holding for a moment before you exhale, the familiar sweet taste lingering in your mouth before passing it to Suguru.
Before you know it, the constant static of noise in your mind quiets.
The sounds of whatever cartoon he picked out echoes through your apartment as he situates himself between your legs on the couch, his back leaning against your chest as your palms comb through his dark hair.
This little routine between the two of you had become your favorite part of the week, an inexplicable relaxation washing over you as you sit in silence and forget your worries for a moment.
Your fingers absentmindedly braid and unbraid his locks, the sensation sending shivers through his body. For both of you this was practically a form of self-care, a way to treat yourselves for the stress you endure.
Shifting his weight slightly, he reaches an arm out to the table to grab the bong, holding it towards you so you can take another hit. Leaning forward, you rest your chin on his shoulder as he lights the bowl for you, smoke filling it as you inhale, the glass cool against the heat of your lips.
He repeats the action for himself, and something about the way his eyes barely close as he breathes in, his eyelashes fluttering ever so slightly, makes him look so soft.
Everything in your body feels light, warm. Lazily tracing your eyes over his body, he looks just as warm; something in you wants to touch him, feel him.
Sliding your arms below his, you place your hands on his thighs, taking in the fuzzy texture below your palms as you continue watching him. He exhales, turning his head slightly to look over his shoulder at you.
“What’re you doin’ there?” he breathes, curiosity lacing his voice.
The way his skin seems to glow draws you in, placing your lips against his neck as you continue tracing your fingertips along his legs.
“Soft,” you murmur into him.
An airy chuckle escapes his lips as he leans into your touch. His hands find their way to the bare skin of your legs beneath your shorts, his thumbs beginning to draw small circles along your inner thighs.
Suddenly, it feels like you’re vibrating, your entire body pulsing with each beat of your heart. Scanning for the source of the new sensation, you notice the heat between your legs, cunt throbbing in pace. Suguru’s hands move slightly higher, only intensifying the desire building within you.
Of course you had thought about fucking him, it would be insane if you hadn’t, especially given the way he walked around in only a towel after showering, hair dripping as he strolled through the kitchen, or how he’d come up behind you and press his chest against your back when you struggled to reach something from one of the taller shelves, or when he would stroke your hair gently after a long day as you rested your head in his lap.
But at the end of the day, you both knew you couldn’t - you couldn’t risk jeopardizing your living situation (or, more importantly, your friendship).
Maybe it was the weed clouding your thoughts, or maybe it was the months of shoving down your feelings for him, but right now, you can’t bring yourself to care: you need him.
Your hands move up his legs to the waistband of his sweatpants as you paw at the fabric, mouth never separating from the crook of his neck as you begin to suck lightly on it.
He takes in a soft gasp at the sensation. “Careful, angel,” he hums. He wouldn’t admit it, but your touch is absolutely addicting, the softness of your fingertips tingling every inch of his body. Deep down, he knows that if you start, he may not be able to stop.
Yet, rather than heeding his warning, his words ignite something in you, something that needs more. You slide one hand under his waistband, but as soon as you nearly make contact with his cock through his boxers, he moves.
Before you can even realize what’s happening, he’s turned around so he’s on top of you, one knee between your legs as the other cages you into the couch. Loose strands of hair fall over his face as his dark eyes meet your glazed-over ones.
“S-Sugu?” you stutter as you try to focus your gaze on him.
Everything feels cloudy, far away. The only sensation tethering you to reality you is him, his leg beginning to press against your clothed cunt through the flowy shorts covering your lower half. A soft moan vibrates inside you as your eyes slam shut, your hips bucking up, aching for any source of friction.
His chest rises and falls, struggling to take in enough air as he looks down at you, your eyes closed as you rut against him, the sight making his breath hitch.
“God, you look so perfect like this,” he mutters, your motions never slowing.
Your teeth sink into your lower lip, trying to stifle the sounds of pleasure threatening to leave your throat.
Suguru smiles above you, laughing to himself. “That feel good, baby?”
Eyes still closed, you nod, humming a soft, “Mhm,” in confirmation as you struggle to form words, the mixture of your high and your hedonism intensifying as you find a pace pathetically rubbing against his thigh.
Your hands reach up to him, grabbing onto his biceps in an attempt to ground yourself as you approach your release. Right as you feel the tightness in your stomach, he pulls his leg away from you, a desperate whine leaving your lips.
“Not yet, angel,” he purrs, “it’ll feel better if you cum on my cock. You want that?”
Your teary eyes flutter open and meet his, pupils blown wide in lust as you weakly nod.
He leans over you, lips nearly touching your ear. “I know you’ve got some words floating around in that pretty little head of yours,” he whispers, “use them.”
Using all of your energy, you manage to choke out a broken “Yes.”
“Good girl,” he whispers against your skin, his words making your cunt throb. His fingers trace down your body until he’s thumbing the waistband of your shorts. “Why don’t you take these off, pretty,” he softly commands.
He leans back, allowing you to remove your clothes and toss them across the room as he sits up, back resting against the couch and legs spread apart. He pats the thigh you had just been grinding against, and you crawl to your place in his lap.
Straddling his waist, his eyes lazily trace over your body, now only covered in your tight tank top and soaked-through panties. One of his hands moves to your hip as the other pulls down his sweatpants, freeing his cock that nearly hits his abdomen from how hard he is.
Your eyes are drawn downward as your mouth opens in awe of his size, reaching down and gently stroking up his length. He sucks in a sharp breath as your thumb traces over his slit, dragging the precum that had been pooling over his flushed tip.
So focused on the way his cock twitches in your palm you barely register his fingers ghosting between your legs, pushing your panties to the side as he glides up your slick folds.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he murmurs as you continue absentmindedly stroking him.
Without realizing it, your hips begin circling against his hand, his palm roughly rubbing against your clit as you whine. “More, Sugu, please,” you beg, the words tumbling out of your mouth.
He chuckles lightly at your soft desperation. “Okay, angel,” he hums, mind hazy with his own desire for you.
He gently grasps your wrist to move your hand away from his base and replaces it with his own, using the hand on your hip to guide you above him, aligning his tip with your entrance.
Slowly sinking down on him, your eyes flutter shut as waves of ecstasy course through your body. Your head falls forward as you lean against his shoulder, the sensation of being stretched by him making your vision go white.
When he finally bottoms out in you, your pussy clenches around him involuntarily, eliciting a soft “fuck,” from the man as your eyes threaten to roll back.
“Y’take me so well, angel,” he purrs, “such a good girl f’me,” his words slurring in lust.
Eyes still closed as you lean against him, you begin to rock your hips forward, your motions slow and imprecise. As you find your rhythm, his cock sliding in and out of you as you circle your waist, his hands trace up under your shirt, his touch like electricity sending shockwaves through your body.
His palms reach your breasts, his fingertips setting your nerves on fire as he kneads the soft mounds. Pleasure builds in your core as you lean your head back through a moan, mouth hanging open as you arch towards him. Leaning forward he places wet kisses down your neck before lifting your shirt above his wrists, sticking his tongue out and circling your hardened nipple before placing it in his mouth.
“F-fuck, Suguru,” you whine as your hands move to his hair. As he feels your fingertips brushing along his scalp, tingles run down his back and he shivers against your body.
Pulling away from your chest he moves his palm behind your head, tilting you down to look at him. Your eyes are unfocused, a lopsided grin across your cheeks as your eyes roam his face. He looks equally dazed, a lazy smirk decorating his features.
“Wanted you so bad,” he hums, “been thinkin’ about this for so long.” He looks up at you with a fuzzy adoration in his tired eyes, the smile on your face spreading as you blush at his words.
Everything about the moment is unhurried, calm, as you lean forward and kiss him. Your lips meet messily, mouths parting as your tongues glide together.
Your hips continue grinding against him mindlessly and he starts to thrust up in pace with your motions, his cock hitting deeper and deeper into you.
You moan into him, the only sound you can make as your thoughts cloud with bliss. Tension tugs at your core as you feel yourself approaching the edge of your release.
Your shared apartment is filled with the sounds of skin against skin, the lewd wet sounds of his cock bullying into you, your whimpers and moans echoing off the walls. Both of you are otherwise silent, lost in the moment, unable to formulate coherent thoughts other than the ecstasy you share.
“M’gonna cum, angel,” he finally whispers into you. ��Finish with me?”
All you can muster is a nod, mouth loosely agape, waiting for his tongue to slot back against yours.
As soon as he does, his lips warm and moist, he thrusts harder into you, purely following a carnal need living deep within the core of his body, his muscles acting on their own.
Pushing his pelvis higher, his tip prods against the sweet spot inside you that has you completely losing yourself, the tightness inside you snapping as you come undone.
Your pussy flutters around his length, pushing him to his own release as he pumps thick, hot ropes of cum that coat your insides.
His hips slow as he imprecisely fucks himself into you, prolonging your high.
When you finally return to reality, he pulls his lips away from yours, a trail of saliva momentarily connecting you as your eyes flutter open to meet his.
“Y’look so pretty,” he coos, taking in your sweet fucked-out face: pupils blown wide, eyes glassed over, lips parted as drool pools in the corners of your lazy smile.
Resting his hand along your jaw, he brings his thumb over to wipe the spot from your mouth, rubbing it over your lower lip. Without thinking you stick your tongue out, taking his thumb into the warmth of your mouth as you suck it, eyes nearly rolling back inadvertently as his cock twitches inside you from the sight.
Moving his hand away, he instead pulls you into another messy kiss, feeling the heat of your skin against his.
Finally sliding yourself off him, you both giggle in bliss as you clean yourselves up, returning every once in a while to take another rip of the bong.
You fall asleep cuddled next to him on the couch, playing with his hair, more relaxed than you’ve ever felt before.
159 notes · View notes
redheadspark · 2 days
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Helloooo!!
May I request Benedict Bridgerton with #8?
Thank you in advance :)
A/N - Thanks for requesting this, friend!
Nonchalance
Summary - Benedict hates making decisions, whereas his wife doesn't mind
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Warning - just some fluff
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“Ah, there you are darling!”
Benedict popped his head up at the sound of your voice, you closing the door behind you to give the pair of you privacy in his personal studio.  He had a sketch book in hand, sitting at his desk that was clustered with paperwork and some ball invitations, a common custom for a newlywed couple during the Season.  Though that was not on your mind, and clearly not on Benedict’s since he liked rather stressed and anything with his charcoal in hand and a knitted look to his brow. 
You eyed him in concern, “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing highly important, my dear,” He replied in a huff, though he smiled at you as you glided over to the desk and perched slightly on the top with your arms folded, “I’m simply too stressed to draw anything.”
“Is it the invitations?” You asked him, looking over at the pile briefly to see the plenty of enveloped labeled “Bridgerton” on the top.  There had to haven been at least 15 invitations there in all shapes and sizes.  You and Benedict were looking forward to some time before as Newlyweds, initially you both going to go a holiday together away from the city for at least a few weeks before finally settling into your new life together.  But of course, society and the new season around the corner seemed to think otherwise, already sending you plenty of letters and invitations to both friends and aquaintances of your families. Although you both loved going to these balls, mainly because you two met at a ball one season ago, it was much better to be together and have that alone time.
“You know, we can always say no to these,” You admitted to him, seeing him crack a slight smile, “I bet you anything that some of these balls are going to be happening at the same time anyways.  I think some of these families are going to understand us not attending,”
You loved your new husband to death, but sometimes he was a bit of a people pleaser when it came to society and his reputation.  His family was well known throughout the town, and the last thing Benedict and his family wanted to do was to have negativity against their name.  Even when you met him and knew of his name, you heard plenty of stories and fake gossip.  But those rumors and tall tales were swept away as you fell in love with Benedict and how he slipped into your heart.  
“You make it sound very easy, darling.  But we can’t just—“ You stopped him from talking anymore as you huffed and grabbed the large pile of invitations in your fingers.  You placed them in your lap, Benedict watching with wide eyes as you were now flicking through every single envelope while looking at the label to see the family who sent it.
“Yes….not them…..their parties are mediocre…..hate that family,” You were sorting them rapidly, putting the good invitations on the left and tossing the rejected ones to the right.  Benedict’s mind was spinning, his head moving back and forth as you were still going over each other and looking rather calm and cool about it.
“Their reputation is terrible…..the party last year was a disaster….they’re lovely….I love their mother….and done!” You said in a smile, placing the last envelope on the approval pile before look over at your husband again with a shrug, “That was easy!”
Benedict was still in shock, getting up from his chair and gesturing back at forth between the two piles, 
“How….how did you..”
“Darling,” You replied, sitting up to be toe to toe with Benedict as he was grinning down at you, “I happen to know all of these families thanks to my mother and father.  After going to plenty of these balls, I tend to pick up on the good ones and the bad ones,”
“Yet you choose so nonchalantly and with ease,” Benedict comment as you laughed.
“I’ve done it before, plenty of times when I came out in society.  In fact, the very ball where you and I met was a result in me doing this very practice,” You explained, Benedict tilting his head at you as you admitted that to him. It was true, you choosing the ball to attending as a guest so long ago and making your mother go ballistic.  She thought of it as brash, too bold, and because of your own stuborness you would not be seen or eligible for marriage. 
She almost lost it from the news of Benedict asking to court you.
“I’m glad you decided to go that night, as was I since I was smitten with you and that midnight blue dress you wore,” He explained, lacing your fingers together and leaning down to kiss the top of your head with gentlest and affection, “Since then, you’ve been so good to me,”
“As you to me,” You hummed in agreement, “I do believe that we compliment each other rather well compared to our friends,”
“I don’t tend to think of other couples and other marriages, I happy to like my own marriage,” he joked, though you could see the love in his eyes and hear it in his voice.  Benedict was over the moon when you two danced for the first time, even after when you two snuck away and talked about art and going to art school.  He was surprised with your interest in art, though you were no artist yourself but you wished to learn the history.  You in return would listen to him for hours in end talking about his own love for art and how he preferred painting over sketching. 
It was obvious that you two liked one another, and the rest of history.  
“Don’t think I don’t, because I do,” You agreed, kissing him lightly and giving him a slight tug with your joined hands, “Now, let’s get to bed.  No need to think of these invitations.”
Benedict followed you willingly, leaving the stack of envelopes behind as well as his sketch that he was drawing, that sketch happened to be your profile. 
The End.
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April Prompt Session
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heartateasee · 11 hours
Text
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"Chapter Two"
Word Count: 5.6k
(Chapter two to “Cherry Bomb” - please make sure to read the TW on the “Cherry Bomb” masterlist before proceeding.)
●・○・●・○・●
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Today marks a month since my hometown show, which also means I’ve been back in LA officially for the same amount of time. I hadn’t really been out much since being here considering there was still a lot of rearranging to do with my house. For starters, it took a few weeks to get my home recording studio completely set up the way I needed it. I had also painted a lot of the walls, and worked on getting my patio to look like an oasis. 
My home was finally feeling like just that…home.
It’s been a while since I’ve had that feeling considering I was bouncing from place to place while touring - sleeping each night either in the van as we drove to another location, or a hotel if we had the time.
Having a place to call my own now is so refreshing. It finally feels like I’m settling down somewhere for the first time since I left home to pursue music. I’ve managed to make it completely me, and I’m proud of myself for that.
Another reason why I think I threw myself into renovating my house so much was due to the fact that I had seen Harry again. After five years, I saw someone who I had tried my hardest to forget.
But the sad thing was, it still wasn’t him.
I’ve made peace with the fact that my Harry is truly gone, and to be honest, I think it’s helped me push forward a bit when it comes to that healing. People really are telling the truth when they say sometimes you never properly heal - the pain just dulls. I think that’s how it will always be when it comes to the loss of Harry.
There’s nothing like speaking about someone as if they were dead when they’re still very much alive.
Regardless of me not really taking the time to see how things had changed in LA, I made myself a promise that today I’d be remedying that. I want to try to go and look for a few additional art pieces for both my living room and bathroom, and I also want to see if the old record store I used to shop at was still open.
That record store holds a lot of memories for me, and I hope to see that it’s still the same.
Looking at myself in the full length mirror in my room, I tug on a pair of black flared corduroys - pairing them with my trusty black platform Dr. Martens. I pull on a black tank top and tuck it into the waistband of my trousers before pulling on a black mesh top over that. I give myself a small nod as I fluff up my hair that I had already done, and I give my makeup one more glance as I head out of my bedroom.
With my small black purse over my shoulder, and my keys in my hand, I make my way outside and into my car. I start towards town, and I make the decision to go looking for some vinyls first since that’s what I’m most excited about.
As I drive, I take in the scenery around me, and I can see that there’s obviously been a lot of build up in the area since I was last living here. More apartment buildings, houses and shopping centers. It was the same, but it wasn’t - much like myself now that I’ve returned.
I feel a smile tug onto my lips as I see the sign for the record store, and I can’t help but let out a small laugh when I realize that’s thankfully one of the things that hasn’t changed at all. Pulling into the parking lot, I park and get out while feeling the giddiness in my stomach that at least something has remained the same.
The same old bell chimes as I step in the front door, and I look over to see there’s no one behind the counter currently. I can’t help but stop in my tracks as I look at it - covered with various bands stickers and doodles, it brings me right back to when I would come in here almost every day the summer after highschool.
“There she is!” Harry's voice bellows as I walk into the record store with a bag of Taco Bell in my hand - a drink carrier in the other. “And she brings me food?”
He dramatically looks up at the sky with his hands pressed together as if he were praying. “I don’t know what I did for whoever is up there to give me Marlowe Finch as my best friend, but I could kiss your ass right now for doing so.”
I can’t help but giggle at his words as I shake my head, and I make my way over to the counter. After making sure the bag and drinks are secure on the surface, I also push myself up onto it before dishing out the food.
“I got you the Mexican pizza combo with a Baja Blast,” I tell him as I pull out the box as well as setting his drink down by him. I make sure I also give him the taco that comes with it. “Oh, and I got you chips and cheese!”
I can feel Harry watching my every move as I set our food up for the two of us, and I look over to him once I finish - feeling my cheeks flush a bit. “What?”
Harry shakes his head as his bunny teeth clamp down on his bottom lip. “Nothing, just so lucky to have you - that’s all.”
“And I’m lucky to have you,” I don’t hesitate to say it back as I lift a hand up to fix the backwards hat he currently has on. He was growing his hair out, but was insistent on wearing hats. He looks like a true frat boy, which is a thing I always give him shit over. “Going to a party or something after your shift? You’re a little more dressed up than usual.”
“Yeah, one of the guys who’s in a local band invited me. He comes in here a lot to put up flyers for their gigs, and he said they’re having a pretty big house party,” Harry shrugs as he pulls the wrapper off his taco, slathering it with sauce before taking a massive bite.
I make a face as I watch him eat, and he reaches out to pinch my hip - eliciting a squeal from me.
“You don’t have to eat it like a starved animal, you know? It’s not going anywhere,” I tease with a wink as I bite into a piece of my chicken quesadilla. “But a house party sounds fun. Do you need me to pick you up later once you’re ready to leave it?”
“You know I’m not going to be drinking,” Harry says, pausing to take a sip of his Baja Blast. “I can just call an Uber or I can walk.”
“Harry,” I tilt my head to the side. “You know I don’t mind giving you rides, right? It lets me spend more time with you.”
I notice that Harry pauses on eating for a moment as he looks down at his feet before he speaks. “I don’t know. I just feel like a burden sometimes since I don’t have my own car.”
“Hey,” I place my food to the side for a moment, and I take his food from him to do the same before I place his hands in mine - giving them a squeeze. “You will never be a burden to me. Never. Do you understand?”
Harry purses his lips to the side, and I raise my eyebrows as if to enunciate my statement again. His shoulders deflate before he gives me a soft nod which causes me to smile.
“Good, glad we cleared that up,” I tell him as I start in on my food again. “Are they going to come and pick you up from here?”
He doesn’t answer me right away as he leans against the counter, pondering as he chews the bite he just took from his taco. “Why don’t you just come with me?”
“I don’t know, H,” I squirm slightly at the thought of being around people I’m not familiar. “It’s not like these people even have any idea who I am. They’ll probably think it’s weird if I just turn up with you.”
“Well, if they said something about it, then we’d leave,” Harry’s eyebrows narrow as he holds my eyes. “I wouldn’t want to be around those types of people anyway.”
I glance over at the clock to see he has about two hours left of his shift. “How about I think about it? I’ll just hang out until you’re done - that way I can take you anyway, yeah?”
Harry sends me that boyish grin of his that here recently has sent my heart fluttering, and he reaches over to dip one of his chips into the cheese before he’s extending it out to me. I roll my eyes playfully at him as I lean forward - capturing the chip between my teeth before letting it fall back onto my tongue.
“I think that sounds like a plan,” he tells me.
The sound of someone entering behind me causes me to come back to reality, and I immediately leave the main area of the store to head into one of the side rooms. I wasn’t even sure if the organization in here was the same as it used to be, but I just had to get away from that counter for a moment.
I spent so many days just sitting on top of that while I would watch Harry work, and half the time I’d be helping him get his stuff done so we could get out faster. All we cared about back then was playing music in my garage, so we always tried to get him out of the store as quickly as possible once his shift was through.
As I approach the section of shelves that was strictly for 80’s records, I decide that’s as good of a place to start as any. I begin to flip through the records while nibbling on the inside of my cheek as I do so.
I pull a few out that I know I’d be more than happy to have before continuing my way through the room. My attention gets caught for a moment by a blonde girl exiting out of the employee only room, and I can tell she’s heading back up towards the front while adjusting her clothes.
It’s only a few seconds later that I catch another body exiting the same room, but I keep my back slightly turned to them as I continue to sort through the vinyls.
Just as I’m about to grab a Talking Heads album, my attention is stolen once more by the sound of a high-pitched giggle, followed by a single name.
“Harry!”
I can’t help but flash my eyes over to the counter since I’ve made my way back towards that area, and I see Harry’s body wrapped around the girl I had seen just a few seconds ago.
“Stop it - you’ve already had me away from the customers for the last fifteen minutes,” the girl continues to laugh, acting as if she were trying to push him off of her, but it’s obvious she’s loving the contact from him.
Knowing I need to get out of here, I go to set the records down that I had in my hand, but I’m caught off guard by a gasp, and I can see the girl looking past Harry’s shoulder at me.
“Holy shit!” Harry is quick to look over his shoulder to see what she’s on about, and I watch his expression harden once he sets his sights on me. “You’re Marlowe Finch!”
The girl unravels herself from Harry, and she walks over to me with a large smile. I clear my throat when I realize I’m going to have to interact with her. Clearly she’s a fan, and I don’t want to come across as rude. My issue is with Harry - not her.
“Uh, hi, that’s me,” I nod, forcing a smile of my own.
“I was so bummed that I missed your show a few weeks ago, but this one was sick,” she gestures her thumb over her shoulder to Harry before crossing her arms over her chest. “So I stayed home too so I could be on standby, in case he needed me.”
I soon realize that he obviously lied to this girl about where he was that night considering he was very much at my gig, and not at home sick. He sends me a look, one that I quickly interpret as a warning, but all that does is cause me to get a bit angry.
“Funny seeing you here, Harry,” I say, raising an eyebrow at him. “Do you still work here too?”
The girl looks between the two of us for a moment - confusion etched on her face. “Wait, you guys know each other?”
Harry walks to stand behind the blonde after hearing that question, and I stifle a laugh at the fact that he hasn’t even talked about me once to her.
“Harry and I used to be best friends up until a few years ago.”
“What the hell?” She lifts her hand to hit the back of it lightly against Harry’s chest. “How come you’ve never told me this?”
I can’t lie and say that it doesn’t hurt to know that he really does just forget that I ever existed in his life. I’m actually a bit envious of him at the same time though. I wish I had the capability just to block out years of memories that I no longer wanted.
Harry remains silent, but the girl doesn’t wait for him to respond before she speaks again. “Well, I’m Rylan,” she says, extending her hand to me which I shake. “Are you staying in town for long?”
“Just moved back actually,” I nod. “I plan on being here for some time since I just finished up my tour, and I’m starting to work on my new album.”
“Oh, that’s so exciting! We should totally hang out sometime since you’re going to be sticking around.”
I can see the annoyance written all over Harry’s face as Rylan continues to ramble, and I send him a slight smirk. The one thing he wants to avoid, he simply can’t - all due to the fact his girlfriend is currently making over me.
“Well, if Harry still has my number, it’s the same, so…” I trail off with a shrug, and Rylan claps her hand. 
“I can’t believe I’m going to be hanging out with you. I feel like I'm in a dream right now,” she shakes her head before seeing the records I didn’t get a chance to put down. “If you’re all set, I can ring those up for you.”
“Sure.”
Rylan takes the vinyls from me, and she turns her back towards both Harry and I to walk towards the counter. As I walk past Harry, we allow our eyes to run over each other before I’m looking back ahead to properly check-out. I can still feel his sight on me as I hand my card over to Rylan who’s bagging up my records. She extends the bag to me over the surface - a large smile on her face.
“It was nice to meet you, Marlowe. Hopefully we can all hang out soon. I’m sure you and Harry have a lot to catch up on.”
For some reason, that simple phrase causes a knot to grow in my throat, and I force a smile. “Yeah, I bet. See you around.”
Turning towards the door, I keep my head down as I walk past Harry, and once I’m outside, I let out a breath that I didn’t even know I had been holding in. I quickly get in my car, and I’m thankful that I had parked facing away from the windows of the building as I place my records in the passenger seat. I stare blankly at my steering wheel as I take a minute to gather myself.
This was a mistake. I should’ve never moved back here.
I should’ve just planted roots somewhere else given my parents had moved, but I just felt so drawn to come back here. This was the place that gave me inspiration to start music in the first place, and I figured it would be good to write my first album here. It seems that now I was terribly mistaken. The thought of having to worry about seeing Harry everywhere I go will eventually take its toll on me. All of my years of therapy will be washed down the drain.
After taking a few more moments to collect myself, I start my car, and I head off in the direction of the art gallery I had looked up earlier today to try to get my mind off this whole encounter.
●・○・●・○・●
It had been a few days since running into Harry at the record store, and mentally, I was doing better with it than I thought I was going to. I expected my mind to race once I laid down in bed that night, but that didn’t happen. Thankfully, I distracted myself with hanging up the new art I got while playing a couple new records, and I think that helped get my mind off of it.
Kailey had texted me earlier today and asked if I wanted to go out for a few drinks later, and I agreed. I had seen her a couple times since I got back, mostly because she came over and helped me with a lot of the painting I did in my house, but this was going to be the first time that we were actually going out.
It’s exciting to me, to be honest. Yes, I’ve been traveling and going out here and there for the past few years, but I haven’t really gone out with a friend in so long - not since I left.
I went for a rather simple look tonight - just a pair of ripped black skinny jeans, a cropped white tee and my leather jacket. Of course, my platform boots were on my feet.
Since it was a little up in the air how much we would end up drinking tonight, I decided to order myself an uber, and I made sure I had my cards, keys and phone before heading out the door. I only had to wait a couple minutes for my Uber to arrive, and as I got into the back seat, Kailey sent me a text to tell me she was on the way as well.
I’m hoping that by going out tonight that it gives me a better outlook on deciding to move back to LA. After the encounter with Harry, it did have me questioning everything, even though I didn’t spiral as bad as I thought that I would. I’ve managed to keep up a pretty good relationship with Kailey, despite being gone, so I’m more than hopeful that we’ll fall back into our old ways.
I know that I have my band, and Lys, but it’ll be nice to feel like I have close friends again.
I pull up to the agreed location just a few minutes after getting in the car since it’s not too far from my house, and I step inside. I’m looking around for Kailey, but I don’t see her yet, so I decide to make my way to the bar to go ahead and order a drink. 
As I’m waiting behind a few people, I see the door open again out of the corner of my eye, and I see Kailey.
“Kailey!” I call over to the noise of the music, and I watch her eyes wander around for a moment before they settle on me.
She smiles wide, and waves her hand high in the air before she starts to make her way over to me. Once she reaches me, we wrap our arms around each other in a big hug, and I let out a small sigh at how nice it feels to have contact with someone like this. It wasn’t too common for me these days.
“How are you?” I ask as we move up a bit towards the bar, both of us with our arms now crossed over our chests.
“I’m good, just got off of work, and I came straight here. How about you? Did you finally get everything settled at the house?”
I nod, feeling a sense of pride that I have gotten myself all situated. “I did, actually. I picked up a few more art pieces earlier this week to fill some empty space on the walls that I had, but I think everything is officially in place. You’ll have to come over for dinner and a movie night sometime.”
“Oh, I’d love that!” Kailey exclaims with a toothy grin. “It’ll be just like old times.”
Eventually it’s our turn, and I order myself just a Coors Light to start. Kailey orders herself a beer as well, and then we head towards a high-top table tucked into the corner - having it be a little more secluded in the busy little bar.
“I know you’ve been super busy with the house, but have you had a chance to get out a little bit? There’s a lot that’s the same, but a lot that’s different,” Kailey says as she takes a sip of her drink.
“The day I picked up the art pieces was actually the first day I was able to do that,” I wrap both of my hands around my cool glass - tapping my fingertips against it lightly. “Went to the art gallery, but I went to the old record store before that.”
Kailey pauses her attempt at another sip at my words, and she lowers her glass back down onto the table. “You did, did you?”
“Yeah,” I sigh, shaking my head. “Saw Harry.”
Kailey’s eyes widen at my words. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Yeah, and well…that wasn’t the first time I saw him. I forgot to tell you, but I also saw him at my show.”
She stares at me for a moment with a slack jaw before she shakes her head. “Okay, wow,” she clears her throat, actually taking a large sip of her beer afterwards. “And how were both of those run-ins?”
I purse my lips to the side as I try to decide how to answer her. “Pretty unfortunate, to say the least,” I laugh sadly. “He caught me after my gig, and he pretty much just said he wanted to confirm it was me, but that he still wants to act like I don’t exist. The other day when I saw him at the record store, he was all over some girl. Rylan was her name, I think?”
“Yeah, Rylan,” Kailey rolls her eyes. “She’s something.”
“You know her?” I ask, eyebrows narrowing as I take another sip of beer.
“She hangs around with Mikey’s group of friends, and I’ve run into her a couple of times at his parties. Her and Harry have been together for a little bit from what I’ve heard,” she shrugs. “She’s younger though - 22, I think? Fucking loves to party it seems.”
“I thought you hadn’t really seen Harry.”
“Over the past few months he’s been turning up more with her, but before that I only saw him those couple times I told you about. Did he talk to you the other day at the store?”
I shake my head. “Didn’t utter a fucking word. Rylan was fangirling over me, and he just stood there…glaring. I’m sure it had to eat him up that his girlfriend was losing her mind. She wants to hang out with me too.”
Kailey throws her head back with a laugh. “I’m sorry, Marlowe, but oh my god. The poor girl is actually clueless, isn’t she?”
“It seems so. He lied to her about being at my gig. Apparently she wanted to go, and he told her that he was sick, so she stayed home in case he needed her.”
“Wow,” Kailey lifts her glass and extends it towards me. “I think we can cheers to a big ol’ ‘fuck Harry’, am I right?”
I can’t help but chuckle as I lift my glass - clinking it against hers. “You’re right.”
She hums as flails her hand in the air, as if she’s brushing the subject matter of our current conversation away. “But enough about that asshole. How’s the album coming along?”
“To be honest with you? It isn’t,” I run a hand through my hair. “I haven’t really had any inspiration hit me lately, and I know I have a meeting coming up with my label soon. I’m a bit stressed. They’re going to expect an anticipated release date, and I’m not going to be able to give that to them.”
“Well your manager, Lys, right?” I nod as she continues. “I’m sure she’s going to rally for you. She’ll make sure you get all the time you need in order to create what you want, and to put something out that you’re proud of. Don’t let them pressure you into a deadline.”
“Yeah, it’s just…it’s not a good look that this is my first album, and I can’t even get my head on straight to properly get to work on it. I’ve just been so busy with the move, but now that I have my studio set up, I’m hoping it’ll be easier to get some material together.”
“You’ve got this,” Kailey nods. “Your song writing has always been stellar, and you can come up with melodies at the drop of a hat. It’s going to all work out.”
She reaches across the table to wrap her hand around my wrist - giving it a squeeze of reassurance as we share a smile between the two of us.
Our conversation continues on, and eventually we order ourselves another round of beers. At one point, my phone lights up on the table, and I look down to see Harry’s name. My eyebrows narrow, and I swallow harshly as I stare at it. I was in need of a cigarette anyway, so I figure that answering it won’t be too much of an issue.
I can’t tell you why I’ve kept his number saved all these years. It was something I always wanted to bring up in therapy, but I never did. I guess there was a part of me that still wanted to know I could contact him in some way, if I needed to. I had also convinced myself that he probably had a new number, and the contact in my phone was just a placeholder of what used to be.
“I’m going to step out and take this call and have a smoke. I’ll be right back,” I tell Kailey as I stand up, and she gives me a thumbs up while taking a large sip from her glass.
Heading outside, I answer the phone, and I hold it between my ear and my shoulder as I pull a cigarette from my pack - placing it between my lips as I struggle to get my lighter out as well. “Hello?”
I can hear music coming through the speaker, but I don’t hear anyone speaking as I light up my cigarette. Giving it a few minutes, I roll my eyes as I lean against the building, taking a long drag before pulling the stick from my mouth.
“Harry, if you’re talking I can’t hear you.”
It’s silent again for a few seconds, and as I’m going to place my cigarette back between my lips, he speaks. “You just had to come back, didn’t you?”
I pause, the filter almost to my mouth as my face contorts. “What?”
“You heard me, Marlowe,” his words are slurring, and I close my eyes when I realize he’s extremely drunk. “You just had to fucking come back here.”
I’ve never been around Harry drunk, therefore I’ve never known what he could sound like, but right now he sounds even less like my Harry than ever before.
“Well, it is my hometown,” I scoff before taking another drag.
“Did you come back here just to torture me for leaving your stupid little band?”
I blow out smoke towards the sky before I answer him. “It wasn’t just my band, Harry, it was ours. But no, I wanted to spend some time at home. I haven’t really been able to within the past three years.”
“Why?” Harry chuckles darkly into the phone. “You don’t have anyone here anyway. Your parents have moved - no siblings.”
I bite down on my bottom lip as Harry brings up my relationship with my parents. He knows they love me, but he also knows we’re not very close. They’ve been to a few of my shows here and there, and they’ve made it clear they’re proud of me. That’s all I can really ask for.
“Thanks for that,” I try to keep my cool - playing up my sarcasm to cope with his comment. “I had completely forgotten my family dynamic.”
“I’m just saying, there’s not a single person who truly wants you here.”
“That’s funny,” I mumble around the filter of my cigarette. “Because I’m actually out for drinks with Kailey as we speak.”
It’s silent again, but I continue to hear the muffled music in the background, so I know he’s still there.
“Okay, I’m hanging up now, Harry. This call is absolutely pointless.”
“Just one more thing before you go,” Harry’s voice holds a tone that I’ve never heard before.
I wait.
“I left the band because I couldn’t stand being around your stuck up attitude. You’re so fucking full of yourself, Marlowe. So fucking selfish,” he spits, and my lips part at the harsh words he casts my way. “You going solo like you did just proves you were going to use us, and then leave us out to dry once you made it. I couldn’t stand being in the same room with you anymore because of how you were acting - how you’re probably still acting.”
I can’t even find the words to respond to what he’s just said to me. Never in my life has he spoken to me in such a way, or said such hurtful things - things that he has to know aren’t true. As much as I want to prove that to him, I know in the end it’s pointless. 
This Harry doesn’t want explanations or reasoning. This Harry is already set in his ways and his thinking. Arguing with him would be like arguing with a brick wall.
“You’re talking out of your ass right now, and you’re clearly drunk,” I toss my cigarette to the ground, snuffing it out with the toe of my boot. “I’m actually going to hang up now. Don’t call me again. Goodbye, Harry.”
My hands shake as I hang up my phone - slipping it into the back pocket of my jeans. I suck in a deep breath as I drop my head back to rest against the brick behind me. 
As much as that call should upset me even more, I think it’s not because I’ve actually come to the realization now, more than ever, that Harry is not the same person. He will never be again. I’ve already mourned who he used to be. I’ve already worked through that trauma to a point where I feel comfortable dealing with the little bit that still remains.
That man on the phone was not someone who used to be my best friend. He’s a complete stranger.
I let out a deep breath before making my way back into the bar, and Kailey sends me a smile. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, that was Harry.”
“Come again?” 
“I don’t want to talk about it. Can we just get some shots?” I laugh, and she nods as she pushes herself up from the table.
“Oh, I’m about to get you two back to back,” she says, guiding me to sit back down. “I’ll be just a minute.”
My eyes follow Kailey as she pushes through people to make her way back to the bar, and I fiddle with my fingers on top of the surface in front of me. 
I have to come to terms with the fact that I’ll probably be seeing a lot of Harry now, especially if what Kailey said is true about Rylan hanging out with people who Mikey knows. Maybe it’ll end up being a good thing - it’ll be the true closure I need to just lay it all to rest. It was already seeming to be going in that direction anyway.
It’s only a few minutes later that Kailey is back with a small serving tray with two more beers and a total of four shots.
“We’re getting drunk,” she tells me as she sets everything down. “And we’re not going to talk about that dickhead anymore.”
We each grab a shot glass and raise it in the air. “Fuck Harry Styles,” I say, repeating her cheers from earlier, but adding his last name to it - to really feel it.
Kailey smirks as she nods. 
“Fuck Harry Styles.”
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A/N: If you'd like to see what I picture Kailey and Rylan to look like as well, I've included their pictures below! Thank you so much for reading, and I'll see you all very soon for the next one.
Kailey
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Rylan
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Taglist: @daydreamingofmatilda @prettygurl-2009 @ghoststyles @lillefroe @gem1712 (if you’d like to be added to my taglist, please send me a DM!)
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slytherintothedms · 3 months
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invested in a dvd reader for my mac in order to be able to watch teen wolf because unfortunately i suffer from a devastating condition called living in the uk
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bloodfreakcastiel · 9 months
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i stay winning besties
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tripleyeeet · 10 months
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OF COURSE MY FUCKING INTERNET WOULD GO OUT DURING STORM POINT DAY
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disordersgirl · 2 years
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IMHOME time for scream :-}
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lewmagoo · 2 years
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shoutout to y’all writers who are balancing a full time jobs, personal shit, crippling college workloads, etc, all while trying to maintain a blog and find time for writing. y’all are doing amazing
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nasykuching · 1 year
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Another merch preview✨✨
You can get them on CF6, Paripiko, and Chibi-con!💕✨
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shirtlessradfahrer · 1 month
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So what do you do when your favourite rapper makes a catchy song about the hardships of life that you want to love but upon release can’t connect with at all and after a few listens almost outright dislike because none of the pain and hardship life has put you through has ever made you a better person or given you the energy/motivation to do better and it actually just did the complete opposite and you’ve lost out on precious years of your life and so many opportunities while trying to process the trauma and undo the damage
But everyone else seems to love the song to the point that you start to wonder if maybe you’re just a fucking idiot for not being able to make something good out of said trauma and hardship instead of just being filled with crippling anxiety and depression and bitterness and grief and rage
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killstreak-kritzkrieg · 2 months
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i’m so hungry rn but i’m saving room for a fucking SALMON BURGER i’m gonna have for lunch later
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mothdogs · 6 months
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Taking a solo self care day while my partner’s away to metro downtown to the art museum, wander through feeling like the main character in a movie, stop for sushi lunch on the way home, and spend the evening watching scary movies and taking a bubble bath
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sewercentipede · 7 months
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todays dnd session got cancelled so i guess ill just die
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✨🎬🍿movie night🍿🎬✨
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