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#like.... he called it dark lol but like he started laughing
retrobutterflies · 2 hours
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Little Dragon | t.n.
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Theodore Nott x Female!Reader
Summary: You are not a fan of one of his admirers and he thinks you are a pretty idiot.
Word Count: 2.7k
Warnings: Jealousy, Fluff, mentions of snow lol, a hint suggestive at the end if you squint
A/N: I haven't written in a while. This is just a fun little thing, an hors d'œuvre if you will.
Abigail was nothing if not brazen. It had taken you years to be comfortable in the presence of Slytherin's most exclusive group. For a while you didn't even realize Pansy Parkinson had considered you anything more than a suitemate let alone a friend until she hexed Lacy Cressilda for calling you bitch. And Draco Malfoy barely dignified you with anything more than a smirk until one night he was trashed out of his mind and proclaimed that he would help you hide a body should you ever need. You assured him you wouldn't.
It was only by 6th year did you feel fully welcomed into the friend group. Now instead of getting wary glances when you sat with them at dinner, you were getting indignant glances when you joined other friends of yours for a change of pace.
But seeing Abigail seat herself comfortably between Draco and Theo, smiling easily and joining into the conversation seamlessly made you falter. Abigail Thorn had never really interacted with your friends. Though she was a sixth year Slytherin, her group of friends never really crossed paths with yours. At least, not until last term when Abigail started sitting closer by in the great hall, tugging along unwilling friends, or switching seats with annoyed Hufflepuffs to sit next to one of you in Potions. And now, relaxing in the common room when mostly everyone else had slinked up to bed, she had found her way into the conversation, her friends long since retired. 
You watched her from your seat on the opposing couch. The fireplace was dousing the room in a dancing orange glow, illuminating smiling faces and slouched forms. Someone had tossed a cinnamon stick directly onto the firewood so the room smelled of autumn spices and smoke. Mattheo made a crude joke from his spot laying on the green-woven rug on the floor in front of the hearth and Abigail let out a laugh, leaned forward, and rested her hand on Theo's knee.
A swirling green monster crawled up your throat and wrapped its tendrils around your neck. Your eyes zeroed in on her hand, fingers flexing on the dark material of his pants, and imagined shooting out a nasty stinging hex. You glanced up to see Theo's dark eyes swoop down to the hand on his leg. He eye'ed it, eye'ed her, then slowly, delicately in the soft-quiet way he does most things, moved her hand back to her lap. You wanted to feel pleased at that action, pleased that he didn't want her touching him but she moved again, her lips moving around words you weren't paying attention to as your eyes stared at her hand creeping through his arm to lock it with hers. And then with a smile, she rested her cheek on the curve of his shoulder.
You felt like you were on fire. Heat flared up your spine, flushing your cheeks and the back of your neck. The forest-green turtle neck you were wearing was suddenly choking you and you felt like if you didn't get up in that very moment then you would self-destruct.
"I'm going to the bathroom," you muttered softly to Pansy who gave you a nod while keeping her attention on one of Mattheo's long-winded stories.
You headed straight for the common room door. It was after curfew but you didn't care if one of the prefects saw you walking around. You just needed fresh air. You needed to freeze out all the raging fire in your lungs, squash it into a piteous puff of smoke. You shot out of the nearest door and found yourself in one of the stone courtyards. The ground was blanketed in a sweep of fresh snow clear and untouched. A few stray snowflakes fluttered in the air, glittering in the firelight of scattered torches, replacing the lack of stars in the dark milky sky. You took a deep breath and welcomed the icy air that cut through your chest. It sizzled your anger until only a pile of ashy shame was left.
Theodore Nott was no one to you but a friend. You had no possessive claim to him like your body seemed to think. He could touch whoever he wanted, be touched by whoever he wanted. And you had no right to get so upset at the thought. But you were. You hated even the briefest moment seeing him with another girl. If the thought of him linking arms with a girl was enough to make you want to hex her you could only imagine the nightmare you'd be when he actually got a girlfriend.
You felt like you could be sick. You took another deep breath and then another. Closing your eyes and crossing your arms over your chest as if to shut out all of your buzzing thoughts. A swirl of wind sent a dusting of snow across your stocking-clad legs, your skirt giving you little protection but you welcomed it, hoped it would help distract you so that when you found the courage to go back inside you were less of a raging psychopath.
"Are you alright?"
His voice cut through the still of the night and sent a shock down your back. Your eyes shot open and you turned to see Theo slowly walking up to you, hands in his pockets, shiny leather shoes crunching on compact snow.
"Yeah. Fine. Just–" you breathed out slightly, hot air puffing into the cold night, arms tightening across your sternum, "hot."
His eyes were dark and gleaming under the night sky. You couldn't help but squirm whenever they stayed on you for too long as if your body physically couldn't handle their intensity. They trailed down your crossed arms, over your fluttering green-plaid skirt, and down your legs, goosebumps barely concealed through the sheer tights. Then his eyes, dark and deep and heavy, found yours again.
"You look cold," he concluded.
"I'm– Well, now . . . yes," you stumbled on your words and hoped that he thought the pink creeping across your cheeks was because of the frigid air and not your scrambled nerves, "but it's . . . good."
You wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
"It's good?" He echoed, eyebrows raising and smirk pulling up the corners of his lips. "You're shaking."
You didn't notice until he said it but you did feel a tremble in your body.
"I like it," you replied. Half true, half lie. You liked it enough to distract you but your legs were starting to feel numb and your teeth were starting to thrum together in a quiet symphony.
"You like it," he echoed again and you knew he could smell your fibs like food. Theo was a bloodhound for lies.
"I just–," your eyes flickered to his and then back to the courtyard when you couldn't hold his stare any longer, "–needed some air."
You heard him step closer, snow crunching underneath his footsteps. He was quiet for a few moments, looking out at the empty courtyard with you, watching the snow flurries and taking in the icy air.
"You're angry," he stated, breaking up the quiet. His voice was soft and low but it sent a shockwave down your spine.
"I'm not," you deflected before you could think. You could feel his gaze fall to the side of your face but knew if you met those keen eyes your facade would crack and splinter.
"You are," he assured. You wanted to argue, spit back a retort and stroke the burning anger that apparently you weren't hiding well enough.
"And how would you know that?" You replied, words as tight as the arms crossed over your chest.
"Because you're brooding," he said and you felt yourself bristle. This time your eyes met his and you frowned, narrowing them at his crinkling in the corners as his smile tugged up.
"I'm not," you tried to think of something to defend yourself, or something clever so his attention would be diverted, but all you could settle on was, "I do not brood."
"No?" He let out a hum, hand reaching into the depths of his pocket to pull out a beat-up pack of cigarettes. He slid one out, tapping it seemingly unconsciously against the side of the cardboard as he picked through the thoughts in his head. You watched as his thumb and pointer finger pinched the rim and ignited a small flame enough for it to start smoking. You'd seen him do it before but felt just as breathless seeing it again, Theo and his wand-less tricks.
His eyes flickered up to meet yours again and your heart felt like it was getting vacuumed into your stomach at their heaviness, at their weight. His eyes, dark and shining, enticing enough that they seemed to weave their own spells. You felt rooted to the spot, powerless to tear your gaze away. He brought the cigarette up to his lips, inhaling, holding the breath, then exhaling a swirling cloud of smoke into the night, his eyes keeping yours captive.
"If I look hard enough I might be able to see smoke coming out of your ears," he commented. His smirk grew at your flushed cheeks.
Finally, finally you were able to rip your eyes away, glaring at one of the weeping angel statues of the fountain nestled in the middle of the courtyard. You were silent, pushing through scrambled thoughts, trying to find a placating excuse. Enough so that he wouldn't make you admit how pathetic you were being.
"Come on, my little dragon. Tell me what's wrong and I'll make it better," he drawled, taking another inhale of his cigarette.
Your insides burned at the nick-name.
"Is–" You bit the inside of your cheek, debating, deciding, before relenting, eyes shutting tight as you forced the next few words out of your mouth, "Are you and Abigail close?"
He was quiet for a moment. You counted to ten, then ten again before daring to open your eyes and cast a wary look at him. All teasing amusement was gone.
"Abigail?" He finally said. He looked surprised, brows tugging in at the center of his face like he was trying to decipher a riddle. "I hardly know her."
The words stroked your blazing core, calming it slightly. You mulled them over in your mind but stabbing images of her arm in his, her hand on his knee had the inner flame in your chest roaring. Theo was watching you carefully, as if only now seeing your real ire.
"Right," you muttered, feeling guilt and jealously and anger and shame weave together in your gut.
"Did she," he took a careful step closer so you could smell the aroma of his cigarette intertwining with his cologne that hung on him like shadows. Dark and woodsy and spiced. "Did she say something to you?"
His tone was soft but you could hear the twinge of sharpness. The silent assurance that if she had he would be stalking off to her in retaliation. And though the thought of lying and releasing Theo's acid anger on her pleased you, you knew it wouldn't be fair. Realistically, she had been nothing but kind to you. If only she had been unpleasant. Then you'd at least feel less guilty turning Theo against her.
But you weren't that evil. At least not tonight.
"No," you admitted, keeping your hard glare facing the dark sky. He waited for you to continue, to give voice to the cacophony of thoughts he could see buzzing behind your stormy eyes. You debated waiting him out, testing his patience until he sighed and relented and decided he was going back inside. But if you were a master of the long game, Theo was the creator.
"She was just . . . being very friendly towards you. And I wasn't sure–I didn't know if you knew her like that–" you let out a frustrated huff, welcoming the icy sting of the winter air as you sucked in another breath, "I just think that if, maybe, you got a girlfriend or something you'd tell us or something or–" you huffed again, "Or you'd warn me–Us. I mean–" you cut yourself off.
"Girlfriend?" He seemed well and truly shocked now. He let out a chocked laugh, staring at you with wide eyes. "You think she's my girlfriend?"
You felt like a fool. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment and you wanted to launch yourself off the edge of the courtyard and swan dive into the depths of the Black Lake, never to be heard from again.
"She was all over you. She was laying on you–" you bristled again, invisible wings flaring. You met his gaze and glared at him but he only laughed again, a rich smooth laugh that had your nerves zapping your insides.
"You're jealous," he finally said, eyes bright and blazing as he regarded you.
"I'm–" you couldn't even bring yourself to deny it. You had said far too much. You should've stalked off to the bathroom like you had said. Then maybe you could've drowned yourself in the toilet instead of being here, facing up to this.
"You're an idiot." His words felt like a slap. You opened your mouth to respond with an equally cutting remark but he spoke first.
"Her? Really? You're daft. And blind," he took a step closer until the tip of his leather shoe nudged your own and you had to crane your neck up to glare at him, "And–"
"If you keep insulting me I'm going to hex you," you threatened.
He reached out a hand and cupped the back of your neck. His fingers pressed into the skin, circling and massaging the muscle until you felt yourself deflate.
"Aren't you supposed to be smart? How could you possibly think it would be her?" He was so close now that every breath smelled of him and his cologne.
"Theo," your voice turned pleading.
His hand moved slowly from your neck up to the back of your head, fingers weaving into the silky strands.
"This has to be a cruel game that you're playing," he murmured, face inching ever closer. His eyes were piercing yours and you felt helpless to move, helpless to even speak. "You have to know what I feel for you."
Your lungs felt like they had been filled with ice. Your mouth opened but no words came out. He was so close to you and his eyes were suffocating you and you felt like you might well and truly burn up from the inside out.
His free hand, cigarette lost to the frozen ground, curved around the plush of your cheek. His thumb swiped the velvet skin under your eye and you didn't think you were breathing anymore.
"I only want your skin to touch mine," he finally said. His voice was so low, so soft, it caressed your burning cheeks. Your hands, numb from the cold, found their way to his chest, clutching at the wool of his dark sweater. He hummed in satisfaction.
"Only you are allowed to touch me," he breathed, eyes skimming your face, darting between your eyes. "Understand?"
You nodded mutely and he hummed again. Then his lips were touching yours. Warm and velvet lips caressing your own frost kissed ones. He exhaled into the kiss, his breath tickling your face. Your hands clutched at him, tugging him ever closer as you sunk into the kiss. Your body melted, relaxing into him, a rush of relief soaking down your spine and extinguishing the flames that had been coiling up your back. His kisses turned deeper, more desperate. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip then his lips soothed the sting. The hand at your cheek pulled away and you were close to whining before he was wrapping it around your waist, hoisting you higher, closer, chests pressing together so he could deepen his kisses and steal the air from your burning lungs.
It was a while before he pulled away. He admired your flushed cheeks and starry eyes that blinked up at him. His fingers woven in your hair tightened, gripping. You couldn't ignore the flash of pleasure that erupted in your stomach.
"Next time you decide to have a tantrum, at least come get me first," he murmured, words rumbling through kiss-bitten lips. You would've glared if you could think straight. But your mind was hazy and your lips were tingling and all you could think about was kissing him again.
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larrysballetslippers · 3 months
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Me the entire day:
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eorzeashan · 11 months
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This isn't the best picture, but it kinda looks like Lana designed this armor for him and unintentionally (or intentionally) made them match, lol.
#swtor#kotfe/et#dude his armor is SO dark i couldn't see him on my screen for the majority of kotfe i thought his model disappeared#INVISIBLE...#i've also been thinking more about his role in this alliance that treats him in an incredibly utilitarian way#and since he's come to accept his role as a tool who just kills lana's enemies and nobody seems to debate that except to disapprove#he starts wandering off more and more#alternating between sleeping inside his quarters and camping outside to purposely make it difficult for people to find him lol#so they can't bother him with trivial tasks or lectures#andronikos laughs at lana and theron being irritated by it like haha. guess he doesn't like you lot after all to which they feel miffed by#but eight *is* a proud creature who can't be reigned in when his heart does not resonate with his keepers#and they decide it might be fair to let him do what he wants as long as he picks up when they call him#he ends up traveling through the rural regions of zakuul and enmeshing himself with the locals as a friendly sellsword#he just solves little problems he comes across sometimes for payment sometimes for free#and they think he's just a mercenary attracted by zakuul and they're like he's so nice...be careful sir the outlander might be out here#don't stay out too late but we'll know you'll protect us :)#they keep giving him shit like their vegetables and even a pack animal cuz he doesn't take money so whenever he comes back#the alliance is like where the fuck did you get these.#also you can't convince me the entire population of a planet is in (1) shitty city or none of them have already left for the wilds#the exiles do not count#esp since there's still remnants of life there im sure not everyone would give up their culture or way of living
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honeyed-disgraceful · 2 years
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My friends: screaming their asses off at the hyper realistic gore sfxs
Me: flirting with the actors almost kissing a vampire in a staring contest after getting grabbed by my choker too hard and shocking an acid zombie because I blew a kiss his way
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daisynik7 · 7 months
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Pairing: Takuma Ino x f!reader
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~1.7k
cw: explicit language, mentions of a popular horror movie, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl position), nipple play, blow job, mask kink, slight degradation (slut, whore), use of pet names (cutie, sweetie, baby) 
Summary: You and your new boyfriend Ino decide to watch a horror movie together in honor of spooky season. Halfway through, he notices how skittish you are, making him want to play a silly prank on you with his signature ski mask. It’s all fun and games until he realizes that you actually like seeing him in this way more than he anticipated. 
Author’s Note: Happy October y'all! What can I say, I am VERY into Takuma Ino right now and I just had to get this out of my system. This is barely edited or proofread, sorry for any grammar mistakes or typos, I really was just letting my fingers fly through this in a moment of passion LOL. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading! MDNI banner by @/cafekitsune. 
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You turn off all the lights, the only source of illumination coming from the TV screen, paused at the very start of the movie you decided to watch tonight. With a big bowl of freshly popped kernels in your grasp, you huddle beside your boyfriend, Ino, on the couch, covering both your legs with a fleece blanket. He wraps his arm around you, pulling you in closer, reaching to grab a handful of popcorn to stuff inside his mouth. “Ready?” he muffles, pointing the remote to the screen, finger pressed to the center button. 
Nuzzling your head against him, you answer. “Yup!”
It’s apparently one of those cult classic horror flicks according to Ino, who recommended it when you mentioned how you wanted to watch something scary for October. He’s seen it before, many times in fact, but he insists that you watch it. He has no clue how frightened you get over the silliest things, so tonight will be a treat for the both of you. 
The opening scene plays out: a beautiful blonde picks up the phone and the conversation ends quickly short because it’s the wrong number. Normal so far, good. It rings again, but now the caller seems interested in talking. Do you like scary movies? Do you have a boyfriend? The man’s voice gives you the creeps, and you find yourself shuddering from it, cuddling closer to Ino, who glances at you with a smirk on his face. 
You never told me your name.
Why do you want to know my name?
Because I want to know who I’m looking at.
This line gives you goosebumps and you lift the blankets up to hide behind it. “Ew, creepy!” Ino only laughs, throwing a few more pieces of popcorn into his mouth. 
It escalates from here, getting increasingly chaotic and violent. By the time you’re halfway into the film, the bowl is down to its last kernels and you’re crouched in Ino’s lap, peeking through your fingers. He pauses the movie after one particularly brutal kill. “Snack break! I’m going to make some more popcorn and go pee.”
“You’re leaving?!” you whine, clinging on to him as he tries to get up.
He chuckles. “Babe! It’s just a movie. I’ll be right back, okay?” He kisses you on the forehead, heading into the kitchen, leaving you alone in the living room. 
Of course it’s just a movie, but you can’t help feeling creeped out in the dark like this. You reach for one of the nightstands, turning on the lamp. You hear the drone of the microwave, and after a minute or so, the distinct sound of popping. Eventually, it comes to a stop, and the entire house is eerily quiet. You’re tempted to call out for Ino, wondering where he is, but you remember that he had to use the bathroom. 
Suddenly, a shadowy figure appears right behind on you on the couch, grabbing your shoulders and shouting gibberish at you. You scream bloody murder, ready to punch him and run away when Ino lifts his ski mask up to reveal himself, tears streaming down his face, cracking up at you. 
“Ino!” you yell at him, slapping his hands away from you. “You fucking asshole!”
He doubles over, cackling, wiping his eyes. It takes a good while for him to regain his composure as you glare at him, arms crossed over your chest. “I’m sorry, baby. I just couldn’t resist.” He sits beside you, stretching his arms out for a hug. “You have to admit, that was fucking hilarious.”
You shake your head, refusing. “You’re such a dick.”
“Oh, come on! It was just a little prank. Now you’ll be way more prepared for the rest of the movie!” He pulls the mask over his face again, everything covered except the holes for his eyes. “See? Not so scary anymore, right?”
You inspect him carefully, still pouting, not saying a word.
“I’m sorry, sweetie. Truly. I promise not to scare you again.” He scoots towards you, nudging you in the arm. 
You roll your eyes at him, relaxing. “Fine.”
“Can I get a kiss now?” 
He tries to lift his mask up, but you stop him, pulling it back down. “I don’t want to see your face right now. I’m still annoyed, you know.”
“Aw man! Really?”
You hoist it just past his nose, leaning in to give him a soft kiss on the lips. When you break apart, he smirks at you. “You like this, don’t you? Seeing me with my mask on.”
You shrug, a sly grin on your face, neither confirming nor denying his accusation. Sure, you were a bit upset at first, when he scared the shit out of you. But seeing his face covered like that may have sparked a desire in you that you never knew you had, until now. 
“Oh my god! You do, you do!” he exclaims, shaking your arm. “My cutie has a mask kink!”
“Shut up, asshole!” you yell at him, pretending to shove him off, smiling. 
“You’re a fucking freak!” he giggles, pouncing on you. He starts tickling you along your ribcage, causing you to squirm beneath him as he straddles you, trapping you between his legs. His fingers flutter under your arms, stroking your sensitive skin.
“Ino!” you cry out, laughing from the sensation. 
You can feel his cock growing hard in his pants, balls heavy on your stomach. Suddenly, he stops, mask still folded to expose his lips, leaning down to kiss you sloppily. He pins your hands above your head, locking his fingers with yours. He slips inside your mouth, grazing your tongue with his, hungry for your saliva. “Fuck,” he moans into you, nipping at your bottom lip. “You like this freaky shit, don’t you? Nasty slut.” His playful tone is laden with lust now, low and sultry, mouth brushing along your neck, sucking at your pulse points to mark you. 
You whine his name, wrapping your legs around his waist, grinding yourself against him. 
“Look at you, getting so fucking dumb all because of my mask,” he purrs. “What else turns you on, cutie? Tell me.”
Without thinking, you blurt out, “Spit. Your spit. I want it.”
“Oh shit,” he swears, licking his mouth. He traces the outline of your lips, beckoning you to open up, dribbling a thick wad of saliva inside you. You gulp it down, sticking your tongue out for more. 
“Oh fuck, you’re nasty,” he says, doing it again. “Makes me so fucking horny seeing you like this. Seeing my cutie act like a fucking whore.” He slips beneath your shirt, fondling your bare breasts, flicking your peaked nipples with his thumbs. 
“Fuck, Ino,” you whisper, pussy throbbing in your panties, arousal leaking through the fabric. 
“You like it when I play with your tits, huh?” Like it when I pinch them hard like this.” He squeezes them between his thumb and index finger, enough pressure to stimulate you, making you moan his name again and again.
He swears under his breath, shoving his pants down his legs, shimmying out of them until he’s only in his underwear now, erection stiff in his boxers. “You gonna suck my cock now or what, slut?” 
You nod, kneeling in front of him, knees on the carpet, spreading his thighs apart. He lifts his ass off the couch to slide out of his boxers, letting them fall around his ankles. You kiss the tip of his dick, smearing his precum around your lips like gloss before swallowing him into your mouth. 
He lets out a drawn out, “Fuck,” watching you with wide eyes as you bob up and down his shaft. Voice shaky, he asks, “Can I put my hands on you?”
Something about him in this ski mask makes you want to be submissive, makes you want to be used. You grab both his hands, guiding them towards the sides of your head, giving him free rein to manhandle you.
“Holy shit,” he murmurs, gripping you tighter, gradually thrusting his hips in tandem with you. His cockhead hits the back of your throat, teasing your gag reflex, but you resist, tears collecting in the corners of your eyes, enduring it. 
Noticing you, he pulls out, a string of spit between you. “Baby, baby. Please don’t force yourself. I don’t want to hurt you.” He reaches to his side, grabbing a tissue from the table beside the couch, wiping away the spit around your mouth and the tears in your eyes. “Come here, cutie. I want to make you feel good too.”
You strip out of your bottoms, straddling his lap, pussy wet and aching against him. He moans as you rock back and forth on his shaft, pressing his thumb to your clit, massaging it. “There we go. Now we both can feel good, yeah?”
After a few more strokes, you beg him to fuck you, lifting up to guide his cock inside you slowly, sinking down on him until he bottoms out. You bounce on him, his hands gripped to your waist, guiding you, moaning your name between expletives. 
As you approach your orgasm, you pull up his mask, placing it on his head as he usually wears it. He smiles brightly at you, nuzzling his nose to yours. “There’s my pretty girl. Can you come for me now? Come all over this cock?”
You kiss him passionately, arms wrapped around his neck as he thrusts into you, hands squeezed on your ass now. You reach your climax, moaning into his mouth. He comes with you, shooting his load deep into your womb, filling you up with his cream pie. The two of you continue to kiss slowly, catching your breaths. He caresses your back while you melt into his embrace. 
“We need to establish a safe word,” he suggests, cradling you in his arms. “I want to make sure I’m not hurting you.”
You hum into his skin, saying the first thing that comes to mind. “Popcorn."
He chuckles, stroking the back of your neck gently. “Alright. Popcorn it is.” A beat later, he exclaims, “Popcorn! I totally forgot about the popcorn!”
You laugh, giving your boyfriend a wet smooch on the cheek.
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candlewaxandp0lar0ids · 5 months
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hoodie season || Chan x Reader
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Summary: You're not stealing Chan's hoodies. He's not happy about it.
Word count: 1.4k
Warnings & Tags: Tooth-rutting fluff, established relationship, that should be it.
A/N: Wrote a silly lil one-shot for an idea I got tonight! This was literally written in under two hours, so, uh, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did lol and I apologize for any typos.
Reblogs, feedback and comments are welcome and encouraged!
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It starts, without you being aware of it, on a July evening. You and Chan have only been dating for a couple weeks then, and you feel like you’re on cloud nine. For the better half of the night, which you’re spending with his friend group, you’re in his arms, your back against his chest, his chin comfortably resting on your shoulder. Changbin and Jisung tease him about it, but he shrugs it off like it means nothing. He’s got you now, and he likes showing you off, so why wouldn’t he?
It does take you aback when he lets go of you and the cold hits you. It was hot outside all day, and you hadn’t realized that the temperature had dropped by this much. A shiver shakes you to your core, which Chan doesn’t miss, even if he’s being called away to play the guitar.
“You want my hoodie?” he asks, eyes filled with concern.
“No, I’m okay, babe,” you say with a smile. “I’ve brought a jacket.”
He nods, and that’s all there is to it.
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It comes back on a night the two of you are spending out. Chan takes you out to this fancy restaurant, and you dress accordingly, always pleased when you get a chance to impress him — and impress him you do. He does that thing that you think is adorable, where he keeps giggling throughout the meal. Under the table, your knees keep touching, and every time, without fail, his ears turn bright red. You love that you still have that effect on your boyfriend of three months.
After that, because you’re near a park, you decide to go for a walk in the night air. It doesn’t take long before you’re shivering in your small, tight dress.
“I’ve got a hoodie in my car,” Chan says, ever the gentleman. “Want me to go get it for you?”
You’re not keen on being left alone in the dark, and your high heels mean that if you go with him, it’ll take much longer than it should. Plus, it would ruin your outfit.
“It’s fine,” you say, arranging your scarf so it wraps around your shoulders. “We’ll be heading home soon anyway, right?”
“Sure,” he nods quickly, and it’s your turn to giggle, because it’s so cute, how Chan always indulges you.
He ends up picking you up when you’re walking back too slowly for his taste, and you protest, but you’re no longer cold when you get to his car.
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 The subject — which, by the way, you still haven’t realized is a subject — comes back yet again on a night you’re spending in his apartment. You’re coming out of the shower, a towel wrapped around you, and you’re going through your bag to find the clothes you’d planned on wearing for the night when something lands on the bed in front of you. You glance up to find Chan looking at you, leaning against the door frame.
“Just in case you get cold.”
You have, slowly but surely, made your way into November, but Chan’s place is warm, and you know you’ll have a human radiator, so you grin at him.
“I have a feeling I won’t be needing it tonight.”
Chan grins — but his ears turn red, even now.
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 You do a Secret Santa, a few days before Christmas, with Chan and his friend group, at Changbin’s place. It’s an incredibly nice house, but it’s big and it’s old, and you soon find yourself huddling against Chan for warm. It makes him laugh at first, and he presses a kiss into your hair, arm solidly wrapped around you as he rubs your arm. When you don’t appear to warm up as the night keeps going, he disappears for a few minutes, ignoring your protests.
He comes back from his car and hands you one of his signature black hoodies.
“You’re my savior, babe,” you sigh as you pull it over your head.
Chan beams.
His victory is short-lived, though, because you pull away from him after that — with the hoodie, cuddling makes you too hot.
You leave the hoodie neatly folded in his car when you both go back to your place for the night.
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It’s just a few days later that you meet Chan’s family for the first time. You’re all dressed-up, determined to do your best so that they’ll like you, even if Chan’s promised you that they would, no matter what, because he loves you, and that’s all they care about.
He dropped the word so easily, and you were left speechless. You haven’t stopped thinking about it since.
Even now, when you’re sitting next to him, making small talk with his mom and listening to his sister tease him playfully, you have butterflies in your stomach. The hand he’s placed over yours on the table, again making it look so natural, so easy for him, isn’t helping.
“Wanna go for a midnight walk?” he offers, later that night. “It’s kind of a family tradition.”
“Sure,” you say, voice squeakier than usual, and he tilts his head as he studies you, but he doesn’t comment on it.
“You’re not dressed warm enough,” he warns you, and before you can say that you’ve brought appropriate clothing, he’s taking off his hoodie and pulling it down over your head. “There. All good.”
It’s late when you come back, so you both wish his parents a goodnight before Chan drives you back to your apartment. You wait until you’ve made it up the stairs and you’ve opened the door to put your arms around him and pull him down for a kiss. It’s soft, slow, and filled with all of your emotions.
“What’s that for?” Chan whispers against your lips. He’s warm against you, his hands on your hips, and you feel so grounded by him. You always do.
“I love you too,” you whisper back.
The hoodie ends up forgotten on the floor.
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You celebrate New Year’s Day with Chan’s friends, again, but really, they’re your friends by now. You get at Changbin’s house early so you can help with the cooking and decorating the place, and end up teaming up with Felix and Minho in the cooking department, while Hyunjin takes over the decorations and forbids everyone from approaching him while he works.
It’s not because he’s shy. It’s because he thinks you’re all terrible.
Chan arrives kind of late minute, busy working on songs, as always, while you’re putting out the drinks you’d brought with you. You greet him with a quick kiss. You still have a million things to do.
“I’ve got your hoodie in my bag, you should put it back in your car,” you just tell him as you rush back into the kitchen.
You miss the way he pouts at you.
It’s later that night, but still with a couple hours to go until midnight, that he approaches you while you’re outside, staring up at the night sky and enjoying the fresh air after hours cooped up inside. He wraps his arms around your waist, buries his head in your neck. You lean back into the familiar touch with a satisfied sigh — until he mumbles something unintelligible.
“What was that?” you ask with a frown.
Even with the only light coming through the windows of Changbin’s house, you can tell he’s blushing when he pulls away from you.
“Why aren’t you keeping my hoodies?”
You blink at him.
“…because they’re your hoodies?”
He opens his mouth, closes it.
“Yeah, but they’re kinda… your hoodies too, y’know?”
You tilt your head slowly, and soon, you’re unable to fight the grin that’s spreading on your lips as you watch him get increasingly pouty.
“Do you want me to steal your hoodies?”
The blush spreads.
“Do you like it when I wear them?”
You’re just having fun now.
“Yeah,” he answers, before cocking an eyebrow at you. “Think it’s hot, by the way.”
You burst out laughing, and he tightens his hold around you when that takes you away from him. God, do you love that man. Once you’ve collected yourself, you reach a hand up to gently cup his cheek.
“Okay, I’ll steal your hoodies. Anything for you, love.”
He smiles, satisfied, and kisses you softly. He brings a hand to cover yours, entangles his fingers with yours.
You don’t tell him, but the truth is, you feel warm and fuzzy all over inside whenever he’s around.
So you don’t see the point in having a hoodie when you can have him instead.
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videovamptramp · 4 months
Text
i’m right over here, why can’t you see me? (2)
// when ellie’s reaction to you and abby hooking up isn’t quite what you expected, she leads you right into abby’s open arms. //
[warnings: jealousy, pining, angst, slight arguing, angry!ellie, illusions to one-sided feelings, simp!abby, fuckgirl!ellie, sexual implications]
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this is pt.2 (pt.1 can be found here)
abby was always taught to be the bigger person. her father consistently reminded her that no matter how people treat her, she should always be the bigger person. that’s most of the reason why she’s so reserved and non-confrontational. when she first started university, she knew she didn’t quite fit in. unlike a vast majority of students around here, she wasn’t here for the “college” experience. she was just here to play soccer and get her degree in engineering. she also noticed you from the first day of freshman year, but she was way too shy to say hi to you. abby’s never really been good at flirting or starting conversation with new people. she often feels too awkward, or too intimidated to say anything.
manny took a liking to her right away; the school got his rooming situation mixed up, and that’s how he ended up being abby’s roommate. it was strange at first for her; she was wary about having a guy as a roommate. but she quickly learned manny was a cool guy. he was funny, and hung up pictures of him and his dad right away. abby could relate, as she was very close to her dad as well.
manny slowly seemed to get abby out of her shell, and would invite her to various functions and parties. but he quickly learned if it didn’t have anything to do with soccer, abby wasn’t really interested. even the girls who threw themselves at the dark haired blonde, would get shot down without abby even realizing she was rejecting them. you were ironically the first person abby found herself interested in. hell, after the party yesterday, abby was almost certain she was enthralled by you.
after walking you back to your dorm, you gave abby your number and hugged her tightly. abby walked all the way back to her shared room with a dorky grin on her face. she could still smell your girly perfume, and all she could think about was your pretty smile. a part of her wondered if you’d cave and call ellie, but when you texted her after she had gotten out of the shower, she knew you didn’t.
y/n (1:34 a.m): i can’t wait to see how she reacts tomorrow, thanks for helping me haha
y/n (1:35 a.m): and thank you for keeping me company tonight, i really liked getting to know you abby 🖤
the smile that tugged at her lips after reading your message was nearly unrecognizable. as she walked out of the bathroom with her eyes and thumbs on her phone screen, manny raises a brow in slight suspicion at the peculiar sight.
abby (1:42 a.m): i really liked getting to know you too, i hope we can get to know each other better :) i was serious about teaching you how to ride a horse lol
“that’s a face i’ve never seen before.” manny states observingly, causing abby to look away from her phone, over at her roommate who was flashing her an intrigued smile. a blush coats her freckled covered cheeks as she thinks about you and your smile. “you remember that girl from my women’s history class? y/n?” abby reminds her best friend, who throws his head back and lets out a bark of a laugh. “abby you jugadora (player)! i knew you’d get laid eventually.” he taunts causing the jock to roll her eyes. “i didn’t ‘get laid’, gross ass. i finally said more than five words to her. i got her number too.” abby smirks, and mischief glints in manny’s eyes. “so nora dragging you to that party was a good thing then?” he half taunts and abby’s phone chimes, signaling that you’ve texted her again; her face gets hot, and manny chuckles.
y/n (1:44 a.m): i’ll be waiting for you to set something up when we’re not tipsy then ;)
abby (1:46a.m): i don’t think you’ll be waiting for very long <3 goodnigjt y/n, sleep tight
y/n (1:47 a.m): goodnight abby 🖤
when you wake up the next morning, your head is throbbing, and thoughts of last night begin to flood your mind. suddenly you remember all about abby’s plan to make ellie jealous. you reach over for your phone and see you have a string of missed calls, and five texts from ellie. your heart thumps as you open the text thread with the brunette.
ellie (2:20 a.m): you home??
ellie (6:34 a.m): why didn’t you call me last night?
ellie (6:35 a.m): did you make it back to your room safely??
ellie (9:35 a.m): you going to class today?
ellie (11:47 a.m) did you really hookup with anderson last night? it’s all that nora chick and her friend are talking about rn.
your cheeks heat up as you read the last message; word certainly seems to move fast around here. before you can even think about a response to ellie’s various messages, your gaze wanders to the time. your eyes widen as you gasp, realizing you slept nearly half the day away; it was already 2:30 p.m and nobody except for abby knew you were alive. you scurry off your bed, and just as your about to grab your clothes and stuff to shower, dina comes barging into your shared dorm. “dude, is it true!? did you hookup with the captain of the soccer team last night!?” dina sounds excited, and your cheeks turn a dark shade of pink, causing her to gasp.
“you did! holy shit, y/n… i didn’t think you had it in you.” she comments, sounding a bit impressed. “what? you didn’t think i had enough rizz to pull abby anderson?” you question half jokingly, causing the raven haired girl to laugh loudly. “oh no, i’m well aware you can pull whoever you want, i just didn’t think you’d move on from ellie so fast! i didn’t even come home last night, i spent the night listening to ellie rant about you and abby hunky anderson.” dina teases you mercilessly, doing nothing to ease the way your face is burning.
the raven haired girls eyes then widen, shining with pure amusement. “did you two do it in here? on your bed!?” she cackles before whistling, “who are you?” dina asks half jokingly as she begins to walk over to her side of the room, reaching for her biology textbook. “you’re leaving again?” you ask out loud, and dina nods, turning her head and flashing you a roguish smile. “yup, i’m studying with jesse till five.” she admits, and you raise your brows, offering her a disbelieving expression. “studying or fucking?” you ask her, poking fun at the slightly taller girl. she rolls her eyes, but looks away from you in order to keep you from seeing the way her face changes in color. “unlike you, i am considerate of jesse’s roommate. we wait until he’s at work.” dina’s response causes you to laugh, shaking your head in amusement.
“whatever. i’m going to shower, and change into pajamas. maybe i’ll make myself a cup soup and watch reruns of buffy all evening.” you tell her, and dina snorts. “maybe you could call anderson to join you. i’m sure she’ll be up for round two.” dina’s voice is sardonic but dripping with lightheartedness. “who says we didn’t already have round two?” you inquire challengingly, causing dina to gasp as she reaches for a pillow on her bed, tossing it right at you. you laugh loudly, as you make your way towards the door with your pajamas and toothbrush in hands. right as you open the door to rush out, you come face to face with ellie who had been debating with herself on whether to knock or not.
her eyebrows meet her hairline as she sees you, your mascara from last night a mess, and your hairs a mess. there’s a wave of hot, red anger that surges throughout the brunette as she realizes you’ve been so busy with abby anderson, you haven’t been able to answer any of her messages, or even been able to wash your face. her eyes flicker over to your bed that’s a mess, and suddenly unwanted images of abby fucking you on your bed flood her mind.
“it’s nice to see you’re alive.” ellie grumbles a bit dramatically as she pushes her way into the room, causing dina to turn around and look at you. “you knew i was okay. i was with abby.” you respond, and the mere mention of the other girl seems to set ellie off. “no i didn’t know that y/n! i don’t know a fucking thing about abby! she could’ve been a weirdo who only wanted to take advantage of you—” you cut ellie off before she can say something stupid, “but she wasn’t! abby and i are both two consenting adults who hooked up, just like everyone else around here!” you snap a bit harshly, and the words feel like a slap to the face for ellie. “so the rumors are true? you and anderson hooked up last night?” ellie’s voice sounds hurt, and you can’t even recognize the expression that’s etched onto her features.
“uh, jesse’s waiting for me, so i’ll let you guys talk.” dina declares a bit awkwardly, she can feel the tension in the room, but she decides to stay out of it and walk away. before she walks out, the raven haired girl flashes you a look of reassurance. when she shuts the door behind her, you and ellie are left alone. you shake your head, “why do you sound so angry about it? you hookup with girls all the time!” you counterpoint, and ellie shakes her head. “but i never ditch you to do it!” she hisses, while you respond with an eye roll. “yes you do! ellie, you ditched me last night for angela! you do it at every party with different girls, but the one time i do it, it’s a problem?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest.
“i was worried about you! i don’t care about your meaningless, shitty hookup with anderson.” ellie spits rudely, and you let out an angry laugh of disbelief. “shitty? why do you think i was asleep all day? it was amazing.” you nearly grimace as you realize you sound like you’re trying too hard to convince ellie. “besides, abby already asked me on a date. she wants to go horseback riding.” you lie right through your teeth, and ellie lets out a chuckle. “yeah? that sounds like complete bullshit.” she calls you on your bluff, and you raise a brow, “what sounds like bullshit? that someone could actually want something more than a hookup with me?” you ask challengingly, causing ellie’s annoyed expression to falter. “no, y/n, that’s not what i meant…” she trails off, her voice lowering slightly.
“then what did you mean? because to me it sounds like you think all abby or anyone could ever want me for is a hookup.” you reply dryly, but ellie can detect the slight hurt in your tone. she shakes her head again, “no that isn’t— it’s not you! it’s abby! girls like her aren’t actually interested in dating anyone. i mean, half the cheerleading team said she sleeps with girls and never talks to them again!” ellie points out, and you furrow your eyebrows. “since when do you listen to rumors?” you demand, making her run her fingers through her hair in frustration. “you can’t seriously be thinking about going out with her, are you?”
her question causes you to frown, “yes i am. and unless you can give me an actual reason on why i shouldn’t, then we have nothing left to fight about.” your voice is strangely stern, and something in ellie’s stomach drops because of it. “i’m going to go shower… just like was before you barged in here.” you know you sound meaner than usual, but you can’t help it. ellie was supposed to be showing you how sexy she was when she was jealous, not what a jerk she was. you didn’t even mean to lie about your date with abby; it had just slipped out. ellie had a way of pushing your buttons, and in a way you knew the more you talked about abby, the more you were pushing hers. you walk out of your room, shutting the door behind you and leaving ellie alone. she can’t help but glance over at the messy, undid bed that was taunting her. ellie hates thinking about you and abby together, but she still can’t figure out why. dina was right, the brunette might just be the most oblivious person on the planet.
you’re not as upset after getting clean. a warm shower and a fresh set of pajamas always makes you feel better. when you get back to your room, ellie is no longer there, but there's a twinge of guilt that runs through your veins. you push it as far away from your thoughts as you can. you know you shouldn't feel bad; after all, ellie has been raving about how "pretty" and "hot" angela is for the last four weeks! you shouldn't feel the slightest bit guilty for making her jealous with abby.
as your mind thinks about the honey blonde girl, a small, inevitable smile makes it's way onto your lips. though the smile falls fast when you realize you're going to have to ask abby to help you again. this time it was your own doing; you angrily lied to ellie and told her you had a date with abby. in a way it made you feel a bit pathetic, faking a date. the cruel voice in your head was telling you that ellie was right; you couldn't get a date with someone like abby... not an actual date at least. but ellie didn't really know that. as far as she knew, you were going to be riding off into the sunset with abby after your date.
ellie doesn’t text you throughout the rest of the evening or night. a part of you feels a bit bad for lying to her, but the other part of you knows you only did it because she was acting stupid. the next morning you wake up and get ready for your classes; feeling way better than you did yesterday. abby sees you walking to your second class, which happens to be women’s history with her. she can’t stop herself from approaching you, regardless of the butterflies fluttering in her stomach.
“y/n.” she greets you with that soft accent, that causes an unfamiliar warmth to course throughout your body. “abigail.” you respond back, unable to contain the smile on your face. “how did things go with williams yesterday?” she asks curiously, and your smile falls at the mention of your best friend. “not good? was my plan a bust?” she questions cautiously, rubbing the back of her neck nervously. you sigh, “i don’t know. i mean, she was really mad yesterday when she came to my room. she heard people saying we hooked up, and she said all you wanted was to hookup and never talk to me again…” you trail off, and abby opens her mouth to disagree, but you go on before she can get a word out.
“i kinda got really mad when she said that and i might’ve lied to her about us having a date.” you blush in pure embarrassment, and abby lets out a laugh. “oh jeez, i don’t even wanna picture how angry she got when you told her that.” abby’s voice is light, yet there’s a slight seriousness in her tone; she remembers the way ellie was glaring at her the other night. you shake your head, a small frown etching itself onto your face. abby can’t figure out how you look so pretty all the time; even when you’re upset. “yeah she was pretty mad… but who cares? she’s just acting like a jerk! i mean, to be jealous is one thing but she doesn’t have to be an asshole about it. she’s supposed to be my best friend. realistically she’s supposed to be happy for me.” you mutter, causing the blonde to raise her brows in amusement.
“she’s your best friend who’s in love with you. the more time you spend with me, the angrier she’s gonna get.” abby points out with a slight mumble, and you sigh, “if ellie is as in love with me as you and dina say she is, then she would’ve said something yesterday. but she didn’t. i honestly think ellie just isn’t into me like that.” you sound genuinely sad as you come to terms with this, and the dismal expression on your face causes something to tug at abby’s heartstrings. she doesn’t like seeing you sad.
“she’s just stubborn. she needs more of a push. i mean you said she got upset when you told her we have a date.” abby tries, as you both stand outside of the classroom, continuing the conversation. “yeah, but she’s ellie, she literally has anger issues. maybe she was just mad that i promised to call, and i didn’t.” you explain, and abby shrugs. “then lets go on a date. let’s see how ellie reacts to it.” the taller girl throws the idea out there, causing you to freeze. you look at her, “you wanna take me on a “date”, just so i can see how ellie reacts?” your voice has suspicion laced throughout it, as abby nods. “why do you wanna help me so badly?” you interrogate slightly, obviously not trusting the blonde.
she laughs at the way your eyes are narrowed, and she can’t help but find every expression of yours absolutely adorable. “because i like you. you’re the coolest person i’ve met around here aside from nora and manny. i’ll help you get the girl if that’s what you want. i’m a great wingman.” she winks at you, and you roll your eyes playfully, that genuine smile that causes abby’s heart to palpitate returns. “you’re also a very sweet person.” you add onto her boast; this causes the back of her neck to heat up, as she looks down at her boots and smiles. you wrap your arms around her and hug her tightly, just like you did the other night.
and just like the first time you hugged her, abby’s mind begins to race as the smell of your perfume takes over her senses. she hugs you back, and when you pull away you have this mischievous grin on your face. “i guess we’ve officially got a date then, anderson.” you half joke, as you lead abby into the classroom. abby’s sure her face is as red as a tomato, and she’s much too busy thinking about how soft you are and how good you smell to think of a good response. instead, all abby can do is follow you like a puppy to your seat. she sits down next to you, and throughout the entire class, she doesn’t pay attention once.
after the class ends she realizes she hasn’t taken a single note, and has no idea what the assignment topic for tonight is. every thought she seemed to have, circled back to you. the worst of it was, you were probably thinking about ellie while she was thinking about you nonstop.
after class, she groans to herself as she realizes she has no idea what the assignment topic for tonight is. she was too busy stealing glances at you, and thinking about your “date”.
“god, what the hell did i get myself into?”
abby thinks to herself as she walks into her shared dorm. she throws herself onto her bed, her thoughts never leaving you.
meanwhile ellie slams the door behind her as she storms into her room. she can’t help but feel more upset than ever. she saw you and abby walking to class today, and it caused an ugly green wave of jealousy to wash over her. for a moment she actually wanted to go up to abby and punch her right in front of you, though ellie knew you’d never forgive her for that. but ellie also couldn’t just sit around and watch you fall for abby fucking anderson.
suddenly, she pauses in the middle of pacing as an idea hits her; like a lightbulb lighting up over her head. ellie knows what she has to do; she’s going to ruin your date with abby, and she has a million different ideas on how to do it.
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team abby or team ellie? 👀
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i’m sorry to everyone it didn’t let me tag, some of your blogs weren’t popping up 😭 merry christmas loves, stay safe - vamp <3
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nicestgirlonline · 7 months
Text
Something Sweet
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Pairing: Sugar Daddy! Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Warnings: 18+ smut ahead!!! Thigh riding, public stuff, dirty talk, sugar relationships, power dynamics, dom/sub undertones
Word Count: 4.9K
Summary : A chance run in with a handsome stranger turns out to be the opportunity of a lifetime
a/n: for @the-slumberparty September Bingo Challenge! No bingo for me this round, I got it in JUST UNDER THE WIRE! Takes me waaaaayyy to long to write lol. Thanks for reading, I’d love your feedback! Reblogs and comments are love <3
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You placed the candy bar on the counter in front of the very bored cashier. You dug through your purse and pulled out your debit card and handed it over. A queue had started to form behind you as you tapped your hand in anticipation. 
“Declined.” The cashier said, holding out the card for you. Your stomach dropped. You were afraid this was going to happen. You were so sure that you had enough in your account for at least a candy bar. You had paid the overdraft fees from last month, so you should have been set. Your stomach gurgled a bit. You were so hungry. 
“Um, can you try it again?” You asked, hoping it was some sort of mistake, that the bank was just a little slow to catch up with your account. She let out a sigh and placed it in the machine again.  
You could feel the stares behind you. You looked back at the line; directly behind you was a tall man dressed in a suit, checking his watch. He looked like he must be very important. He had dark brown hair that was neatly styled and just a touch of a five o’clock shadow. It was incredibly handsome. His icy blue eyes flicked from his Rolex to you, making you quickly turn back to the cashier. 
“Declined. Again.” The cashier handed it back this time with a look insisting you take the card from her. Humiliated, your cheeks began to turn red. 
“Sorry.” You mumbled as you shoved your card back into your purse so you could clear the shop as quickly as possible. In your haste, you accidentally ran into Mr. BusinessMan. You collided with his body like a brick wall. “Sorry! I’m so sorry! Fuck I’m a mess.” You cried out as you ran past him this time. 
You ran directly out onto the street, the cool air filling your lungs. You dropped down onto the curb to spend a minute catching your breath. You could feel your heart still racing, your body going into fight or flight mode. 
Money, money, money. It all always came back to money. If you didn't have the money for a god damn candy, how were you going to make rent in less than two weeks? Tears threatened to escape your eyes and you squeezed them shut. 
Here you were, no food in your stomach and soon to be no roof over your head. You looked at your phone, a flip phone from 2013 that miraculously still worked. The last text you had gotten was from your mom “Fridge broken. Send more this month.” 
God fucking damn it. 
“Hey! I think you forgot this.” A deep voice called out behind you. You turned to see the business man from the shop! Confused, you grabbed your purse and checked to make sure you hadn’t left your keys or something. The man held the bar you had left at the counter. He held it out to you. You didn’t go to grab it, you just stared.
“Oh. Um, you didn’t have to…” You began but he squatted down next to you and placed the candy on your lap. 
“We all have bad days. Doesn’t cost me nothing to be nice. You look like you deserve something sweet.” He had a very kind smile on his face. It did cost him something though, it cost him more than what was currently in your bank account. “You ok?”
“I’m…I’m ok. I’m going to be ok. Thank you, really.” You could feel the tears spilling over and you started to wipe your face so he wouldn’t see.
“You must really like candy to be crying over it.” He lightly joked, which only made you want to cry more. You let out a little laugh that sounded more like a strangled gasp. It was so overwhelming, the simple act of charity.
“It’s just…really really nice of you.” You gasped, the tears finally flowing freely. “I don’t remember the last time anyone has ever given me something…I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
“Hey, hey, hey, you’ve got nothing to apologize for.” He reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder to comfort you. “I’m James.”
You gave him your name, finally ceasing your tears. You took a deep breath, you couldn’t just fall apart in front of this kind stranger, he was probably running late to some sort of business meeting anyway.
“You have a way to get home?” he asked, he pulled out his phone and began to tap on it. You nodded your head. 
“Yes, yes I do. I have money left on a bus card, really thank you so much James.” He smiled at you when you said his name. He placed his phone back into his suit jacket. He took your hand and helped you up.  With your spiral into darkness slightly stalled, you took in your savior. He was so classically handsome. When you looked into his blue, blue eyes you felt like you were drowning in them. He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, your heart raced. 
“Get home safe, alright doll?” You nodded, clutching the candy bar to your chest. You took off down the street after giving a soft goodbye. The kindness of strangers had given you more hope than you had in a long time. 
You idly wondered about James as you ate on the bus. Your money problems were still lingering in the back of your mind but your thoughts were clear. 
You tore open the candy bar, taking a bite of the delicious treat. The chocolate melting on your tongue, the sugary sweetness coated your mouth. You got a rush from the sugar and let out a sigh. 
Maybe things were going to be ok, it was a sign that the universe was on your side. 
{}{}{}
You put on your waitress face and did your best to keep up the highest energy tonight. You were all bubbles and giggles throughout the shift. You would smile and laugh at every lame joke a customer would tell you.
Half way through your shift the place was packed. You should be grateful it was busy, you were getting good tips but hadn’t had a moment to breathe since you walked out onto the floor. You carefully balanced a tray of shots and an order of bacon-wrapped dates to drop off before you made it to the party that just sat down in your section. The hostess had put them back in the booth that was partially tucked away with velvet curtains. Big spenders for sure. You smoothed down your dress and tossed your hair over your shoulders as you made your way over. 
“Hiii how are we doing tonight Gentle--” You began your usually bubbly opener, voice high pitched and energetic but as you took in who was sitting in front of you, you stumbled. 
James. Your candy savior. The bodega hero. Him and three other men were waiting to be served. He was wearing a new suit, this one with no tie and a few buttons undone from his shirt. Damn he could really rock a suit, he filled this one out perfectly too. FUCK.  
“Ahem, excuse me gentlemen. So what can I start you off with?” You quickly recovered, grabbing your pad and pen and focusing your eyes on the paper. You prayed that with your heavy makeup and fluffed up hair that maybe he wouldn’t recognize you, or maybe just wouldn’t even remember. 
“Hey there sweetheart, hope my good looks didn’t startle you.” His charming grin grew as you bashfully waved your hand at him.
“Oh I'm used to handsome, it's just a little busy in here tonight. Are we just starting out the night? Maybe with some shots?” You offered with a grin of your own. He seemed pretty pleased with your flattery. James was silent as the other two ordered a round of shots, his gaze was fixed on you. You went to turn to put the order in but as you went James’s hand shot out and he grabbed your wrist. 
You froze and stayed.
“Hold on a minute Doll, you didn’t take my order yet.” His voice was low and easy. You lightly moved your hand out of his grasp to put pen to paper. You nodded to him hoping to get his order. “I want a whiskey. Neat. And bring the whole bottle out.”
“Whoa, we’re getting bottles tonight?”
“Sounds like you guys are going to have some fun!” You said quickly writing down the order with a flourish. This time you managed to escape to put the orders in. As you waited by the bar for the orders you felt your heart racing. It wasn’t just the adrenaline of the fast paced night. Seeing James again had put you completely off kilter. It was humiliating, the last time he saw you, you were crying in the street. He must find you so pathetic. If he even recognized you?
James and his party stayed practically til closing, ordering more and more. The bill they were racking up was so notable that Jeremy himself came out to thank them for their patronage. The other girls were all playfully jealous, it wasn’t you who could normally hook in the big spenders like that. 
“Sadly, it seems we’ve got to end it here. Little guy can’t hold his liquor.” James said motioning to the one you learned was named Sam.
“M’fine.” He slurred. The blonde man who was called Steve laughed and threw an arm around him as he swayed. The two made their way to the exit leaving you alone at the table with James. He smiled at you expectantly. You just wanted the night to be done with. 
“Whenever you’re ready!” you placed down the bill on the table. 
“Hold on Doll, I’m ready now.”  He pulled out a shiny black card from his wallet, and quickly scribbled down on the receipt. You took the card with a smile, ready to go charge it. You glanced down on the tip and your eyes nearly fell out of your head. 
He had given you a 100% tip.
“Problem?” He asked, innocently cocking his head to the side. You glanced at the bill again, rereading it as slowly as you could to try to make sure you weren’t mistaken.
“I think you might have mixed up the tip and the total-” 
“No mistake. I’m tipping for the fantastic service.” 
“I really don’t know how comfortable I am with that James. Is this because of this morning?” Your voice was pathetically small. 
“Oh so you do remember me?” He asked flatly. You looked up at him. His sudden tone made your stomach clench. 
“I mean…of course I do but that’s not very professional of me. I’m sorry-” You immediately tried to amend the situation. This was somehow your fault, you could tell. 
“You apologize a lot. You don’t have to be sorry for getting something you want.” James’s tone was no longer angry. 
“I don’t need pity.”
“It's not pity, Doll. You gave me a service and now I’m paying you what I think is fair. I know you probably aren’t used to people giving you what you’re worth. You probably don’t even know what your worth is, do you?” When his icy blue eyes met yours it was like you were really being seen for the first time. You loved it as much as you hated it. 
“I’m not…I’m not worth anything much. Here’s your card sir, have a good night.” 
You ran off, your face hot with humiliation. 
{}{}{}
You had hoped that would be the end of it. Even with the insane tip from James you were still on the outs with your money. Now that rent could be made there was the electricity, gas, and water. Then the money you would send back to your family, oh and food for yourself. You couldn’t forget that. You kept all ten shifts that you had managed to beg Jeremy for. The big night with James made him much more amenable to your requests. 
It was only for a split second but you saw him at the hostess table. With two different men at his side, there stood James for the second night in a row. You whipped your head around and scurried to the back. 
“Wanda, he’s here again. Again!” You squealed to your co-worker who was just preparing to start her shift. 
“Who, Mr. Moneybags? Well aren’t you lucky.” She said, giving you a playful glare. 
“I don’t want to deal with him again. Please take my table?” you pleaded. 
“Don’t need to ask me twice, I’ll be getting that nice tip tonight.”  She tossed her coppery hair over her shoulder and smoothed down her dress one final time before strutting out onto the floor. 
He wasn’t here for you, you told yourself. You were just being paranoid. Wanda was going to have all of them eating out of her hands by the end of the night, you told yourself as you started out towards your first table. You pushed it from your mind. 
But you couldn’t help but glance over to his table, and the glance was more than enough to see that James was not happy. Wanda and her incredible curves didn’t seem to distract him at all. You could see her laughing and chatting but James was a dark cloud.  
Fine, who cares, he was going to give Wanda a ludicrous tip because he was a generous tipper. He wasn’t pitying you, he wasn’t trying to give you charity, that's just who he is. You scamper towards the kitchen to put in your orders and hopefully hide out a while. 
Wanda came back towards the kitchen, placing her orders and grabbing the food that was ready. Her beautiful smile fading into a line when she made eye contact with you. 
“They were really really insistent that it has to be you tonight. Even just to go over and say hi. ” She said, her tone was dry. Nervous butterflies erupted in your stomach. You bit your lip. What could this possibly mean? 
{}{}{}
You were normally pretty steady in your heels, but the floor was suddenly uneven as you approached James’s table.
“Well hi there, gentlemen. I-I can take your drink orders tonight. Give Wanda a hand.” You babbled, trying not to flub over any words. 
James smirks at you victoriously. He doesn’t need to say anything, his eyes say it all. He had gotten his way.  
The party once again racked up a ridiculous tab.  Nothing was stopping him. The rest of the table had cleared out quickly, leaving just you and James. 
He opened his wallet and laid out the tip, bill by bill. He pushed the fat stack to you, not breaking eye contact once. 
It was multiple hundred dollar bills, but you were too stunned to count. The anxiety that had been building since you first caught a glimpse of James again finally came bursting out of you in a tidal wave. You tossed the cash back on to the table. 
“Please stop. I can’t…I can’t keep doing this, I don’t know what you expect from me.”  You gasped, allowing your facade to crack as you stared up at him with tears wetting your eyes. 
You weren’t scared. But you were confused. This sort of attention must have meant he wanted something from you and…you were fairly certain of what that was. 
“This is how this business works, you did something for me, and I paid for your services.”
“I -- I--” Your breath was caught in your throat as he leaned closer to you to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. 
“Poor thing, you’ve never been treated well in your whole life, have you? I know why you’re so nervous. You’re not stupid, you're really smart. I don’t expect anything from you tonight.”
He took a breath and it was like he was stealing the air right from your lungs. “But. I would like to make an offer, if you’d be interested. I just want one hour of your time.” 
“I’m not a whore.” 
He caught your chin in his hand and made you look back at him, his eyes dark and humorless.
“What an ugly word. Nobody’s calling you that doll. Have dinner with me.” His thumb traced over the apple of your cheek.  
{}{}{}
One hour of your time. You kept thinking about it over and over again. It was just one hour. This ostentatiously wealthy man was paying you to have dinner with him. It’s not a crime. But it felt so dangerous. Sneaky and dirty. Part of it was terrifying but it was also…exciting. 
This restaurant was leaps and bounds above your place of work. It was all very classy. You tugged on your skirt just a bit, hoping you weren’t going to stick out. You were brought through the restaurant, up some stairs to a private party room. It was a huge table, with only two places set,  a glow with dozens of candle’s soft light. The walls were all windows, looking over the restaurant the other a breathtaking view of the city. 
James was waiting for you when you arrived. He looked you up and down appreciatively, his eyes lingering. He stood up like a gentleman when you got to the table. He pulled the chair out for you. 
“Oh um, thank you.” You said as he pushed you into your spot once you were seated. 
“No thanks necessary, Doll.” He placed the napkin from the plate on your lap before returning to the seat across from you. The waiter who brought you up took your drink orders before leaving you alone. 
The door clicked closed and suddenly there was a tense silence between you two. What was next? Were you supposed to say something? Or should you wait for him? 
“I trust the ride over was pleasant?”
“Yeah, um, no issues at all. I’ve never been here before, any recommendations?” Why were you so awkward? Should you be seductive? Should you be professional? Was this a business transaction or a date? Every time your eyes met his he looked hungry. For you. It made you flush. 
“You can get anything your heart desires. Pick out whatever has the most zeros next to the name.” He grinned. “The seabass is pretty good too.”
You wrinkled your nose a bit. “It's not too…fishy is it?” 
“Well it is fish.”
“But is it fishy fish?” James laughed at that. 
“It's a fishy fish. The steak is good too, but it's a steaky steak. So you know.” He joked. It made you laugh a bit too. It was like a spell was cast over you, the tension was released and your nerves vanished. The conversation flowed between the two of you easily.  
Your food came, he didn’t bring up anything. He had asked for an hour of your time, because he was going to propose something to you. You had friends who had “boyfriends” who weren’t really their boyfriends. Men who would pay for the fun that night, but they got paid back in other ways. 
You never had thought of yourself as that girl. But here you were. The anticipation made you nervous but you couldn’t deny the excitement.
He ordered dessert for the two of you, champagne and strawberries with cream and chocolate. 
You glanced at your phone, there was about ten minutes left of “your time” that he had purchased. 
“I hope I’m not so boring that you’re counting down the minutes.” James commented as you put your phone back in your purse. You shake your head.
“No I just…we have some things to discuss right? And an hour is what you asked for…”
“I am willing to pay overtime, if you’re still enjoying yourself. But if we’re down to the minute here, we should talk.” He folded his hands on the table. 
“I like you, I think that we can make something together. You seem like you need some help and call me old fashioned but I just can't resist a damsel in distress. I’m a busy man, with a lot of work and a full schedule, not really much time for dating. Not a fan of the apps either. What I am looking for is an arrangement. I want a companion and can keep you very well compensated for it.”
“So you’ve had…arrangements like this before.” You asked slowly. It didn’t make much sense to you. He was so unbelievably handsome. How could he have trouble finding anyone to be with?. He filled out his clothes so well, his strong square jaw made you want to swoon. How could it be you that he wanted? 
“Yes. Does that bother you?” 
“I-I’ve never done anything like this before.” You admitted. You cleared your throat. “What sort of things are you looking for from your…companion.” Your eyes were suddenly very focused on the bowl of strawberries in front of you. You hadn’t had a boyfriend before, but you’d been with men. Your idea of a sugar daddy was always a creepy old man, desperate for a young thing to fuck. But he didn’t seem desperate at all. The way he pinned you with his gaze was making you feel desperate for him. 
James reached out and placed his hand over yours.
“I am looking for everything. I want someone who’ll keep me company at home, someone I can buy gifts for, someone I can take out on dates.” He squeezed your hand, rubbing his thumb in circles over your wrist. “I’d like someone who’s going to stay the night too.”
Your stomach flipped. You knew what he meant. 
“Ah, like, sleepovers?” You giggled nervously. “I was never allowed to have those, as a kid. I always had to watch over my siblings.” 
“I didn’t have any either. Romanian immigrant parents. They didn’t really…get it?” James smiled, it was different from the grin that had been on his lips all night. It almost seemed shy.  “So maybe we should make up for lost time, hm?”
“But what would it be like? Being your…companion?” You were testing the waters. He was being a bit too vague for your liking. The word sugar baby had never been said but that’s what this was going to be wasn’t it? He wasn’t asking you to be his girlfriend. But he wanted you. And you wanted him. 
Should you get a contract? Or was that only something that happened in trashy romance novels?
He picked the bottle of champagne, his veins bulged in his strong grip. He easily flicked the cork off, popped the champagne with a loud bang that made you jolt. He smirked at your reaction. He poured himself a glass effortlessly then stood, walking to your side of the table. He was completely relaxed, in total control the whole time. 
He towered above you as he poured the bubbling liquor into the champagne flute in front of you. You could smell the rich musk of his cologne. He picked it up to offer it to you.
“If you agree to be mine, I would take you out to nice places like this, buy you whatever you like and then we would keep having fun all night.” His eyes sparkled. Your heart began to flutter, his eyes making you feel like you were the only person on earth. And you could get anything you wanted. 
You took the flute from him. You took a sip of the dry sparkling wine. It tasted expensive. 
“Do you want me to quit my job?” You said plainly. 
“Being CEO means I don't exactly have a 9-5 schedule and neither does a cocktail waitress. I don’t want to have to deal with scheduling around each other. Part of this is about you being available to me. You can take a leave of absence?” He was still standing, but had leaned against the table facing you. The CEO drop gave you a slight pause. You knew he was rich but…you were nervous to ask just how rich. Did it matter? You wondered to yourself. He was so handsome, you didn’t need specifics. You needed him.
“I don’t think that's an option for me.” You said trying not to roll your eyes. 
“Trying not to seem too pushy Doll, but…I want you to quit your job. I’ll be your job from now on. I can cover any of the expenses you’d need a job for. Being mine means spending late nights at my apartment, weekend trips to Europe, I don’t want you to worry about anything but me. If you agree, of course.”
He held out his hand to you. “Or is my time up?” 
You grabbed his hand. Your fingers interlocked. You nodded your head. James smiled and pulled you out of your seat. You quickly stood, eyes looking up into the icy blue pools that captivated you. His lips lightly pressed against yours. It was so soft and romantic, you surrendered to him easily. Your lips moved against him, assuring him, assuring yourself, you could do this. 
“You know why I got the strawberries right?” He asked as he pulled away motioning to the nearly forgotten dessert. 
“Yes…I’ve seen Pretty Woman. They bring out the sweetness of the champagne” You replied smartly. He laughed again. You made him laugh a lot, and every time you did your heart would race.
“I got them because I’m pretty sure you have a sweet tooth. And I thought it could be fun.” He scooped a dollop of cream onto a berry and brought it up to your lips. You obediently opened your mouth, taking a bite of the fruit. The bright, sharpness of the berry was contrasted by the fluffy sweetness of the cream. It was so decadent you needed a minute before you could take another bite. 
He pressed his hands against the small of your back and guided you slowly towards him.
He eased down onto the chair, planting his feet on the floor. 
He gripped your hips and pulled you to straddle his thigh. He guided you down and you followed his lead. You slowly lowered onto him.Your crotch rubbed against his thigh, you grabbed onto his shoulders to try and steady yourself. His fingers went to your dress and hiked it up to your waist.
You let out a gasp, your eyes quickly darting to the door. He grabbed your chin and pulled your focus back to him. 
“You don’t have to worry about anything tonight. You just have to be mine.”  He murmured, his breath fanning over your face. Your face was burning with embarrassment, you’d never been so intimate in public before.
He began to tap his heel making you bounce up and down. His hands went to your ass. The delicious friction made you bite down hard on your lip as your arousal started to mount. 
“James ahh--” You tried to ask but pleasure started to rocket up your core. Your eyes rolled back as he continued to rock you on his thighs. He shushed you, burying his face in your neck. His hands finally left your hips and grasped your breasts.  You moaned at the sensation. You wrapped your arms around his neck, arching your back bringing his face to your cleavage. 
Your hips moved of their own volition now, faster as the sweet ache between your legs grew. 
They glided over and over his thick thighs, building in speed as you chased after your high. Bouncing up and down, no longer concerned with anyone who might see. 
“What do you want?” he gasped. Suddenly stopping you mid thrust, his grip on your ass held you still. 
“Huh?” you whined, wiggling your hips a bit, but he held you firm. 
“Tell me sweetheart, how do I close this deal, what do you want?” James whispered in your ear, letting his breath tickle you. 
“I--” You took a moment. Your panties were soaked through, you could feel your slickness on his pants. You felt so wanton, but this was what you wanted. “I want my rent paid.”
“Done.” 
“And I want a new phone.” He just nodded as his lips connected with your neck. You moaned as he lightly bit down on your neck alternating between pain and sweet kisses. You suddenly felt powerful, more powerful than you ever had in your life. “I also have student loans and money for savings a-and my sister’s starting high school this year and she’s going to need a laptop, so--” 
His lips had finally worked your neck enough and collided with your lips. He kissed you so fiercely, so overwhelmingly hot that you completely lost your train of thought and surrendered to it. 
“Deal.” he panted as he pulled away from your lips, his forehead resting against yours. You started to ride his thigh again, desperate for a release as the coils inside you wind together tighter and tighter.
“Fuck Doll that’s right, use me, ride my thigh, you’re mine now. Show you how good it is to be mine.” James grunted as you chased your high.
Waves of pleasure came crashing over you. You writhed on his thigh, your panties sticking to the sides of your walls as you collapsed forward. Pressing your head to his shoulder, you could feel him chuckling.
You liked being his. You felt small in his lap as he smoothed down your dress. He wiped some of the sweat off your brows. 
You take another sip of the champagne. It wasn’t sweet, but you could get used to it.
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josephquinnswhore · 3 months
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Red Wine & Reparation
Pairing: joel miller x female reader
Summary: you and Joel became young parents, married young and divorced young.. coparenting can be hard.. especially when you still love each other.
Word Count: 7k
Content Warnings: no outbreak, awkward divorced young couple, Joel Miller being a cat guy, flirting, awkwardness, slight implication of attempted SA. Unprotected sex, oral—female receiving, praise, pet names, tongue fucking, slight submissive Joel???? Creampie, mentions of pregnancy, and breastfeeding kink ??
Note: in this fic female reader & Joel are the same age, late 20’s in this fic!! This is my contribution for this week lol.
You were expecting a visit from Joel in a few hours; although you’d tried to be in contact with him, it seemed he was struggling to get back to you. Texts gone unanswered, calls sent straight to voicemail. It was unusual, and as clingy as you felt, it wasn't like Joel not to be in contact, especially when it came to your daughter, Sarah.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
He calls your name from the other side of the door. “Hey, you home?”
The door swings open and Joel stands on the other side of the door, you can't ignore the subsequent look of franticness in his brown eyes. “Hey.” His second greeting is a little more relaxed, if anything a little bashful. The tips of his ears are red under his dark brown curls.
“I just got a new phone, had a little malfunction at work with the other one, mind putting your number in?” You take the new phone, something that seemed way too fancy for Joel, an Iphone 13. As if your eyebrows raise of their own accord, it doesn't go unnoticed by him.
“I never took you for a man that cared about keeping up with the trends.” Your remark earns a scoff. “I just want to be able to keep up with everything Sarah’s into these days, all the facebooking and snapping or whatever she's got.”
His social unawareness pulls a laugh from her dry throat. “I'm surprised she wants you on her snapchat, teenage girls don’t normally want their parents seeing what they’re up to.”
He grunts. “How are you anyway—both of you.. I mean.”
“Things have been okay, I've taken a step back from work to try and relax a bit more, you know?” Although Joel nods, he can't relate, he’d just gone through the ringer of starting his own business with Tommy.
But Joel knows you need a break, he notices the physical telltale signs of stress. Lines beside your eyes that didn't seem visible a few months ago, the slight strain in yout voice and even your physical stance seems off. You seem to be trying to mask it, but he notices.
“Everything at work alright? They givin’ you trouble again?”
Again. How you'd forgotten about the last time you confided about how bad work had been getting. The unpaid overtime and extensive workload. Joel seemed furious at the thought of you wearing yourself thin and had even rung your workplace, that's an incident that got you a written warning.
In an attempt to dismiss his worries you wave your hand. “Ah it's not so bad, I’ve taken some time off with what little annual leave I have.”
“That’s good. You work too hard, you do.” His voice is softer than it had been a moment ago, his gaze settling on your own. He tries his hardest to suppress the memories as he stares into your eyes, he tries to forget how easy things were back then in comparison to now.
You break eye contact as you feel your kitten rubbing herself up against your legs. The little creature lets out a small mew.
Joel’s shock is evident on his face, the fluffy white bundle of fur rubs itself along your pant leg, its tiny mews echoing in his ears. “Oh my god, what in the world..” He stammers. “Is that…?”
Your entire face heats up. “I know.. I've never been a fan of cats but.. She's cute right?”
Joel can't help the instinctual reaction to kneel down onto the floor to get a closer look at the fluffy bundle of fur. He lets the small creature sniff his hand before petting her. With every stroke of his fingers along her pointed ears, she purrs louder. “What's her name?”
“Her names angel. Sarah named her.”
“Of course she would,” Joel murmurs, still petting the kitten as he looks up at you from the floor. “How'd you end up with a kitten anyhow?”
You huff at the memory. “Found her on the side of the road, I think someone dumped her.”
“God, that’s terrible. Why would anyone do something like that? Who just dumped a living animal in the middle of the road?” He shakes his head as he grumbles angrily. He strokes the kitten in a softer manner, expressing his sympathy for the little animal.
You're stewing in your own irritation at the thought. “Some jackass.”
The conversation seems to grow quiet, with the only noise being the kitten’s contented purrs. “She's a lucky kitty is what she is, havin’ two special girls lookin’ after her.” He murmurs, leaning in to tickle the small kitten under the chin with a chuckle.
“I never took you for a cat man, hell—you're looking like such a softie right now,” you tease.
“It's the one thing you never really knew then, right?” The kitten rolls on its back, purring as it scratches itself on the soft creamy carpet. “I bet you would’ve known all my soft spots had things been different back then.”
A sombre mood falls between the two. “Maybe so..”
Joel turns away with a regretful look in his eyes, it's a painful truth, and one the pair had both seemed to accept. Despite the way the two had seemed to adapt to the co-parenting situation.. They're both reminded every single day since their split of what could have been.
“Yeah.. maybe so.” He lets out a sigh, watching as the small kitten runs off, and he's left kneeling on the floor as he watches after it. He doesn't really know what to say.. And he's not sure you do either, it’s awkward to have these quiet moments between them.
“You know.. Sarah told me you went on a date last week.” You try to sound as encouraging as possible, but even as your heart cracks, it seems to break the silence brewing between you. And honestly, you’re nosey.
His face seems to redden at your playful accusation. “Damn.. she really has no filter, does she?” An awkward chuckle follows as he lets out a small groan and his knees crack as he stands up off the floor. As his gaze meets your own again, he wonders how you'll take the news. If he’s lucky, you’ll be jealous.
“She's a smart kid.. observant.” A small moment of silence briefs the conversation before you can stop yourself from asking.. “How was it? The date I mean.”
“That she is..” Joel murmurs before adding reluctantly. “The date was just.. Not a good fit. It didn't go well.” He shrugs, but you knew it would've been a massive blow to his self esteem. “I don't know why I tried… just thought.. maybe..” He rubs the back of his head and chuckles anxiously as he trails off.
It seems his self esteem did take quite the blow.
“Don't be so hard on yourself now, you're a catch, and any good woman will see that.”
Joel’s eyes narrow into a frown. “I'm hardly a catch.. Let's be real, I work too much.” He pauses. “Maybe I'm still caught up on..” He catches himself before he admits it..
Your ears perk at this. “Who doesn't love a hardworking man.” You tease lightly.
He manages a smile at your teasing. “I’m not a catch.. this..” He gestures to himself pitifully. “Is not a catch. Truth be told I’m.. I'm still pretty caught up on you and I'm not even ashamed to say it.”
“Hell—why?” Is all you manage to ask in a stutter.
“Because..” He lets out a frustrated noise and scratches his head anxiously. “Because I should have fought for you, I should have tried harder. You were everything I wanted. Still are.. Honestly.” His tone takes a solemn tone. “That doesn't just go away, all of those feelings.”
“You're right.. They don't just go away.” Your agreement to his statement has him wondering, his eyes searching your face for any sliver of teasing.
“So.. what does that mean? If I was to say.. If I was to ask something stupid.. Would you be angry?”
You're a little confused by his sudden bashfulness. “That depends on what you're asking.”
“Hypothetically..” He starts. “If I were to ask you out on a date, for old times sake..” He trails off and doesnt look back at you, there's a pregnant silence between you both..
“You want to take me on a date?” You ask in confusion.
He clears his throat and looks up to you, his eyes shifting around the room. “Is that a stupid question?”
“Well.. how about you ask me on a real date and maybe… I’ll say yes..”
His head spins in a daze, his heart doubles in size as he realises how much he wants this. “...are you serious?”
You simply nod, waiting for him to ask you on a date properly.
He's nervous, shifting from foot to foot, as if this was the hardest thing he's ever had to ask. “Okay then..” He mumbles to himself, clearing his throat, trying to steady his voice. “Would you care to.. Join me for a dinner date.. at my place?”
He actually asked..
“I would be happy to join you for dinner, Joel.”
It seems as if he's having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that you actually accepted. Even though it's what he wanted, needed.. He had somehow still expected you to decline. The look in your eye contractics his anxiety, though.
“You sure?” He asked, insecurity evident in his shallow voice. “I mean, you still remember how much I work, right? I have to finish this job for a client, he's on my ass about it, keeps asking me when I'm gonna be finished, but I told him I'm on track. Gonna put in some big hours to get this done.”
How could you forget, it was the reason you split all those years ago. His work was all consuming.
Your heart aches at his attempt to push you away–to take your pending rejection on the chin. “How about you let me know when you're free and you can cook for me, hm?”
The offer was flexible, giving him a chance to relieve himself of the pressure and try to find a day that works for you both.
Joel seemed to appreciate the offer, and his face visibly relaxed. “That sounds perfect, as soon as this project is done, and this client is off my ass, then we’ll figure out our date.”
“Sounds great, just send me a text and let me know, yeah?” You smile and tuck your phone into your jean pocket.
“Count on it.” He spoke with such promise it was hard not to get excited about what was to come.. Maybe they could rekindle what they once had. “I'll talk to you later then?” He takes a step towards the front door, his phone rings loudly, you assume it's a client of his.
“Yeah, we’ll talk later..”
As you close the door, it takes a moment to process what had just happened. A stupidly big smile resides on your lips, giddy with excitement, the disbelief that this is happening. Joel doesn’t text till late, but you’re ecstatic that he did get into contact about something other than who has custody of Sarah for the weekend.
Joel Miller 😉 10:45 pm
Hey, I'm sorry it's late, I just wanted to catch up. How's this weekend sound to you? For our date..
You. 10:47 pm
No sweat. What time were you thinking?
Joel Miller 😉 10:50 pm
Hoping to see you around 7. I'll cook dinner and we can just hang out. Unless you wanted to do something else?
You. 10:52 pm
No. it sounds perfect. 7 works for me.
Joel Miller 😉 10:53 pm
Great.. See you at 7 then.. Saturday..
You. 10:53 pm
Great! See you then handsome. 😉
Joel Miller 😉 10:58 pm
See you, beautiful. 😜😏😊
You can't help but laugh at the emojis Joel sent; he was such an old man that didn't understand a damn thing about technology, sure he was trying, but it seemed to get the better of him.
The week is slow and miserable, with your time off work and Sarah at school, you're not sure what to do with yourself for many hours of the days that slowly pass on by. You spend a lot of time reading your books that had sat and collected many layers of dust on the bookshelf in your living room, even taking your little kitten, angel, for walks on a small leash.
You find that as you become moderately okay with being alone, and in the company of naught but a small kitten, time seems to pass by much quicker than it did.
You'd been doting on what you'd wear all week–hell, you were still trying not to think too much about it. Choosing a simple lavender sundress, it was far too hot to wear anything that would stick to your skin. And whatever sin you’ve commited by wearing matching lavender lingerie is no one's business but your own.. Joel wouldn't know anyway.
It couldn't hurt to hope, right? It had been years since you been laid.
“God what the hell is wrong with me?” You murmur to yourself, one hand desperately clutching onto a bottle of red wine, as if you couldn't make it any more awkward. It's 6:50 pm. But you couldn't bare to sit across the damned street in your car a moment longer, your heart ager and anxiety running wild.
Knock, knock. Your hand raps on the hardwood door twice, hands shaking from being so anxious.
As the door opens, Joel grins. “Hey.. you're early.” Taking in his appearance, you can't help but swallow the saliva that had built up in the few seconds you’d spent greedily staring at him. Hell— it was only a brown cotton shirt and a pair of jeans, but he looked incredible.
“I know.. I hope that's okay.” His own eyes take a moment to appreciate your outfit, the perfectly fitting seam of lavender purple that fits snug around your breasts.
“Totally fine, I’m ready in here.. I made you something special.” The grin on his face is cheeky and he takes the bottle of wine from your trembling hands and opens the door wider for you to enter. “Come on in.”
He has absolutely outdone himself, it seemed Joel had managed to clean the entire house in the week coming up to this evening. The house is cleaner than it's ever been, his kitchen is full of colour of fruits and a wonderful aroma swirls around as you walk through the hallway. The counter is a little cluttered with spices and a half drunken can of beer.
“You've absolutely outdone yourself joel.” The compliment seemed to naturally expel from your lips, seeing how he had set the dining table up, in the middle was a simple summer salad and two wine glasses, as if he knew you'd be bringing the wine..
“I would be a terrible host if I didn't have something special in store for you..” As he trails off, the sound of a timer from the kitchen buzzes, and Joel rubs his hands together. “Here, why won't you take a seat?” He pulls the chair out, waiting for you to take the offer, of course you accept, taking a seat and he tucks your chair in.
“Be back in a moment with the food, make yourself comfortable.” The smell is absolutely incredible as Joel steps back out of the kitchen and sets a steaming pan of hot pasta right in front of you, sitting on the seat across from you.
“Jesus, how in the world? I remember all those years ago you couldn't even seem to grasp the concept of avocado toast.”
Joel laughs halfheartedly at your comment. “I wasn't much of a cook back then was I? Always relying on you to use your magic in the kitchen.” He grasps the wine and opens the bottle, pouring you a generous glass. “The fact that you remember that is pretty impressive though. That had to be what.. five or six years ago?”
You can't help but feel embarrassed to be caught out. “I guess I have a knack for remembering things, god.. Sarah would have been barely five back then..”
When you split..
Joel senses the tension in your voice, and serves himself some wine, taking a small sip. “Yeah, she was pretty young back then. It seems like only yesterday that she was a baby..” He takes a small pause as he reminisces. “I always liked when you carried her around in that sling you had for her. Never really understood why you didn't just use a pram..the sling seemed like much more work.”
You let out a small laugh. “I just liked having her close to me, and I hated those goddamn prams so much. I could never figure out how to use the stupid things.”
“Yeah, they were kinda bulky.. I never liked them much either, honestly. Still.. You'd spend like an hour just letting her nap on your chest, you would just carry her around the house.” He lifts the wine glass, his cheeks bare a resemblance to the dark red wine. “I always thought it was kinda adorable.”
The thought makes you stop and think, lifting the glass up to your lips to take a tentative sip. “Do you ever wish we could have a do over?”
He swallows the small amount of wine in his mouth, the smile that was on his face slowly fades. He never thought they would ever speak of this, of their past. He held a lot of guilt, that they fell apart because of him, he was the one who ruined a good thing. Now.. six years later, he had a chance to mend things, maybe even create something new between the two. “Every day.”
The silence hangs in the air between them for a few moments.. “Well.. either way. Sarah turned out wonderful, and that is something we both ought to be proud of.” Your hand meets his own for a brief moment.
Joel can't help but nod in agreement. Sarah was kind, intelligent, thoughtful and empathetic. He couldn't help but feel like Sarah was turning out more like you than him, and he was grateful for it. “But still, I can't help but want.. I don't want a do-over. What we had was good until I screwed it up, I just wish there was some way I could make up for that.”
“Hey—come on now.. You were working overtime back then..trying to keep our heads above water. I didn't.. I didn't understand the sacrifice you were making for our family back then.. You sacrificed a lot, joel..”
Joel looks up at you in surprise when you assure him of his goodwill. In a sense, he's grateful you're defending him, but you’ve always been too kind about the past, too forgiving, he doesn't know if he deserves it. “Yeah I was working a tonne of overtime.. I was trying to save up for a house, I wanted to take care of you both.. Guess it got out of hand.”
You can't help but feel a sense of nostalgia as you look around the house that you both raised Sarah in for the first five years of her life.. “You did it Joel, you got the house and.. Now you're starting up your own business. You've come a long way.”
“Sometimes I wonder if it was all worth it, I missed out on a lot of Sarah's younger years in the process… it's not time that I can get back.. and I know it was my own doing.”
“That was your sacrifice.. And it was so she could have a good childhood. That in itself makes you an incredible father. She knows what you did for us, for her, and she loves you.”
Joel knew that much was true, he concedes this as the truth. He couldn't deny that he had an incredible relationship with his daughter. There were many things joel regretted in his life and from the past, but he couldn't recall a single moment of regret when it came to how he chose to raise Sarah.
“I think we're well overdue for some more wine, wouldn't you say?” You grin, nodding toward the bottle, and with a small smirk, Joel complies, filling your glass half full and his own the same.
“That may be true,” he replies playfully. “But I'm still gonna need you to take it easy. I'm not prepared for what you'll be like once you're tipsy.”
“I'll be on my best behaviour.” You grin, almost too mischievously.
“I'm not believing that for a single second. I know you.. as soon as the wine hits, you’re gonna lose your inhibitions and start trying to charm me.”
Rolling your eyes is an appropriate response. “As if I need to try to charm you, Joel Miller.”
“See?” He chuckles, “even now, you're flirting with me.”
You are amused by his tone and can't help but be a smartass. “Hey—this is a date.. Isn't it?”
With genuine amusement in his tone, he laughs. “Well, I suppose it is. But you can't deny that if I keep pouring you this wine, you wont end up in my lap within the half hour?”
“Pour me another glass and find out.” You challenge, setting the now empty glass in front of him.
He raises an eyebrow, but pours you a third glass of wine, handing the glass back to you. “Here you go.” He wonders if he'll be right in his prediction.
You hold the glass up and take a sip, eyes closing momentarily as the warmth slides straight down to your stomach. Silently thanking him.
Joel leans back into his chair, after topping up his own glass that wasn't quite empty yet, watching you with a brightness in his eyes. “You know, even though we haven't been an actual couple in half a decade, it's still nice to be having one of these again.. as strange as that sounds.”
With a raised eyebrow and amusement in your tone. “I dont think its strange at all, I think it's wonderful.”
He hums in response, finally digging into the pasta that had been sitting there since he served it steaming hot off the stove, you follow in tow, deciding that your stomach has somehow made room for the deliciously smelling creamy pasta. You can't help but groan in delight as you chew the creamy pasta. “Fucking delicious.” You mutter.
As the two of you decide to eat, Joel notes that you’re out of wine… “I'll get another bottle.” You insist, seeing that he's digging into his dinner.
You know your way around the kitchen you'd spent years living in, reaching upward for the wine cupboard, it seems you can't quite reach, whispering to yourself.. “Goddamnit.” You don’t realise you’ve been staring at the cupboard for a few minutes until you hear him.
“Having some trouble?” You don't have the nerve to turn around at how husky his voice sounds. He decided to take advantage of the fact that he had disarmed you with his voice alone, and slips up behind you, his chest flush against your back. He doesn't bother to help you reach the wine, instead he wraps his arms around your waist.
You can't help but lean backwards into him, closing your eyes as you lean your head backward into his shoulder. Your heart skips at the sensation of him pulled taut against you, it had been too long since he held you like this.
His hand caresses the side of your neck, and he whispers softly into your ear. “How's the wine treating you baby? Seems like your skin is a little warm..” He teased boldly.
“Who said it's got anything to do with the wine? My handsome ex husband is holding me— I think that calls for some mandatory blushing, does it not?”
Joel chuckles and squeezes you tighter around your hips, his body pressing against yours firmly, your hips pressed against the bench. “Ex-husband… is that what I am to you now?” He asked, smirking.
You can't help but laugh breathlessly. “Legally, yes.”
“Legally, maybe,” he replies, his smirk broadening. “But in my eyes.. Who you truly belong to is not a matter of legality..” He leans in and whispers softly into your ear, his lips tickle the skin. “Just a matter of heart..”
You shudder as his warm breath warms your ears. “Joel Miller, the romantic.”
“What can I say, you bring out the best in me.” He replies softly, lips against your neck, his voice carries a seductive undertone. One hand slides up your arms and he grabs you to spin you around, his eyes boring into you as your back is pushed against the counter, you’re forced to meet his gaze as his hand grips the nape of your neck. “Do you want to know what I really think about you?”
His sudden manoeuvre has her shocked into near silence. “What do you think of me Joel?”
He hesitates, trying to find the right words. He can't mess this up, not with your large and vulnerable eyes watching him. “You're beautiful,” he praised softly. “You have the most kind-hearted soul I've ever known.. You're a wonderful mother… and you’ll be the only one I’ll ever truly want..”
Maybe the wine helped him be bold enough to be truthful in this moment, or oversharing. He felt like this might be the only chance he might have.
“Why did it take half a bottle of wine for you to tell me all this?” You mumble.
Joel goes quiet. He can't help but stare down at you, the smirk on his lips fades, you'd always been able to see through him. “I was scared,” a note of humility in his voice. “Scared that once you knew, you wouldn't want to look at me again. I always thought you were out of my league, ya know? I didn't deserve someone like you…still don't know if I do.”
His self depreciation was never something you would come to accept. “Don't talk like that, Jesus Joel. You really have no idea how much I love you, do you?”
“How can you still love me?” He asks, although he's almost afraid of the answer you'll give. “I hurt you, I let myself drift so far from what mattered..”
“Joel… you've done nothing that isn't worth forgiving,” you promise softly.
Joel can't help himself as he pulls you against him, chest to chest. He holds you tightly, as if it might be the last time…”But that's the problem,” he said softly. “Not that what I did isn’t forgivable…but that it didn't need to happen in the first place. It hurts me just thinking about how much I lost sight of things, but it can't have been worse than how much I must've hurt you…”
Your hands have a mind of their own as they cup his cheeks, making him look down at you. “Now you listen to me, okay? I love you. Things were not easy for us back then.. We were young parents and struggling to pay the bills, parenthood hit us fucking hard and we didnt make it..” You sigh, your eyes full of love and vulnerability. “Hell—I don't even remember half of it… but were here now, we have a chance to make things better than they were, we can start new.”
He nods as he rests his forehead against your own, a small smile on his lips. You easily wipe away any insecurity and self guilt he held for their split. You were right, of course. This wasn't the time to dwell on the past, on what could've been, not when the two of you were here… now, with a brand new start. “Let's try again, huh?” He asks in a low whisper.
Pulling your lip between your teeth, you nod against his own warm skin. “Let's try again…”
His hands are warm as they caress your cheeks, he pulls you into him for a kiss, lips meeting and you're flooded with emotion, all the doubt and uncertainty you both held washed away as soon as your lips connected. The bittersweet aftertaste of wine lingers on your warm lips. He struggled to pull away from you, but he looked down at your loved filled eyes, gazing softly up at him. “God, I've missed that.” He whispers softly.
He brushes a handful of strands of loose hair out of your face, looking down at you, you note his pupils are dilated. “You still take my breath away,” he laughs softly, caressing your cheek.
You flush at his praise. “Trying to get in my good books already?”
He was definitely trying. “You can't fault me for trying, I could really use some brownie points right now, ya know?”
Laughing at his sense of humour, you roll your eyes. “You're a crooked man Joel, and I love it.”
“Is that supposed to be an insult or a compliment?” An amused tone in his voice, his body pressing against your own. He leans down to kiss you again softly, his hands caressing your waist and letting his fingers trail up the side of your torso.
“Of course it's a compliment—other men have their heads on straight and they are just…weird. You're a little crooked, a little weird, and I like that..”
The way you accept his flaws leaves him more in awe of you, he can't complain at how endearing you find his oddities. “And so youre saying it's a good thing that I'm a little unhinged at times?” He chuckles, reaching up under your chin to trace small shapes on the soft skin.
You have a little mischief twinkling in your eyes.. “Oh you know—when you get all angry and protective. Definitely crooked, but so sexy.”
“You find it hot when I get territorial over you?” He couldn't help but laugh at her admission.
The wine flows through you, giving you a sense of boldness. You run a hand down his chest, manicured fingers tickling him through the brown cotton shirt. “Do you remember that time I was on a date with that jackass, I was drunk outta my mind—”
He scowls at the memory of that night, you, his ex-wife on a date with some chump named James. The man had tried to take you home, even though you were inebriated. “Yeah, I do,” he replied with a possessive tone to his voice. “You were wasted, couldn't even walk straight.. But I knew what that animal was thinking, I could see the way he looked at you.”
“All I could remember was how infuriated you were, the sexiest thing I'd ever seen..” Your eyes draw him in, batting your lashes at him.
Joel smirks, a light blush spreading from his neck up his cheeks, to his ears from your comment. “You thought it was sexy huh? I thought I'd lost my shit and went a little overboard..”
You can only shrug, unbothered by his reaction at that time. “Oh—maybe you did, I mean you did beat him to a pulp in that forsaken carpark, didn’t you baby? All for me.”
“That prick needed his ass kicked either way,” he growls. “There was no way I was letting him have you.. Drunk or not, that man crossed a line, and I’d do it all over again.”
Your heart doubles in size, and you can feel your knees weakening. “You'd do it all over again?”
He doesn't hesitate. “I'd do it a thousand times over.. At that moment.. in my mind, you were still my girl, being hit on by some creep. And I wasn't going to let him take you away from me.” He pauses, wondering if his explanation sounded too crazy. “You still meant alot to me.. Even after we split.. You always have.”
You run a finger down his cheek, the coarse hairs of his beard make a sound that sends a tingle down your spine. “What I wouldn't do to see that side of you again.”
Joel tilts his head slightly and takes a moment to ponder your comment. He was surprised to hear you admit how much you loved this dominant and possessive side of him. “That side of me.. You want to see it again, cause I can make it happen, baby girl. Just say the words.”
You couldn't help the way you trembled, sure that the only thing keeping you up right was Joel's hips pressing against your own, back digging into the bench. “Please,” you beg pathetically. His hand reaches up to your neck, holding you by the neck, forcing you to look up at him. He applies a small amount of pressure that has you whimpering.
The way you melt under his possessive gesture was enough for him to feel confident that this side of him was still within reach and you loved it. He leans closer to you and kisses you again, this time more forcefully. He lets his fingers dig into your soft flesh, squeezing firmly while knowing it's not causing you pain or discomfort.
Hearing your squeaking moans, and the way your body seems to relax into him as he takes control of you.. He takes this as motivation to move his lips against yours with a different kind of hunger. Feeding into the darker side of himself, trying to recapture that long-lost side of him that he's lost after letting you walk out of his life.
But he wouldn't let you go, no, not this time. He had his fingers digging into your flesh and his lips moving against yours with so much force, he shoves his tongue into your mouth..
His free hand wanders along your body, feeling the warmth of the wine and from the heat of his touch, your body reacting exactly how it used to, as if no time has passed at all. His hand gropes your breast roughly, squeezing and slipping past the two layers of fabric. He pulls away from your lips, eyes darkening. “Wearing a lace bra just for me, huh baby? Bet you've got a matching set on, don't you?” He growls.
“Y–Yes..” A feeble moan emits from your lips, smothered in his spit. The thought drives him wild, and slides down the straps to your dress and takes in the lavender lace bra you brought specially for tonight. “Fuck, you’re a naughty girl aren’t you?”
When you don't respond, he grabs at your breasts roughly, grasping the soft flesh between his calloused fingers, pinching your nipples harshly, making you cry out in pleasure, it was a sensitive spot for you, one that Joel remembered well.
He leans down, greedily sucking all the sweat off your warm skin, licking and nipping, his teeth biting down into the flesh of your neck, leaving an immediate mark, claiming his stake on you. You were his..
His lips messily kissed your breasts, tongue finally meeting the nipple where he suckled harshly, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. “Do you remember when you were pregnant? Let me drink your milk straight from the source, didn’t you baby? Fuck.. what I wouldn’t give to do that again,” he whimpers against your skin.
Your heart races, running your fingers through his dark hair. He spends his time at your breasts, alternating pleasuring the two, making sure they’re both equally as tended to as the other. “Tits are so fucking perfect baby.” He praises.
His greedy hands trail down your body, the fabric of your dress bunching at his fingers, as he slides them down your legs, he’s on his knees.. face to face with the matching lavender lace panty that covers your pussy. An involuntary moan leaves his lips, he can’t tear his eyes away at the large sopping wet patch in the middle of your panties. “Fucking hell, I can smell your need, you know that?”
Your legs tremble at his sudden growl, he could smell her arousal? The thought embarrassed her. The thought didn’t stay long in her head, he presses his face into your cunt with the panties still on, moaning against you. His large nose bumping your swollen clit through the material, and you let out a whine and curl your fingers through his hair. “Please Joel.. I need more.”
He ignores your pleas for more, licking and sucking you through your panties, he can taste you through them, he’s like an animal being teased through a cage, and he’s painfully hard, teasing the both of you with his devilish antics.
“Fuck Joel! Please!” You beg a little louder, crying out as she tugs on his hair.
Without another moment passing, his thick fingers tear the lace in half, exposing your mound. You didn’t shave, your pubic hair was trimmed but still bush enough for Joel to dive into. His mouth watered, he had always had a preference for hair down there, he’d seen it in pornography magazines growing up, and he fucking desired it ever since.
Women these days are all about shaving, being bare and having brazilians.
Fuck that. This is what Joel needed.
“Fucking hell baby you’re gonna kill me.” He groaned into your cunt. Diving face first, his arms wrap around your ass and pull you tight, his face buried into your cunt as far as he could go.
You stumble and lift one leg over his shoulder, trying to support yourself a little more. It feels impossible though, the way Joel’s tongue dives into your cunt, lapping at the juices you’re giving him, pushing his tongue as far into your hole as he can reach. His hawkish nose presses into your clit and you feel your legs trembling, like you’re about to topple over.
“Joel..” you warn breathlessly. You’re close, so fucking close.
“Cum for me baby. Fuck.. please.” Suddenly he was the one begging, on his knees lapping at your cunt, whining against you. Feeling him beg against you was all it took for you to come undone.. your legs buckle and you tremble above him, clutching onto his shoulder, as you cry out, your clit tingles with pleasure as Joel slowly rolls his tongue against it, trying to string out your orgasm.
He laps you up, all of you, not letting a single drop go to waste, his eyes are black with desire and his face is glistening with you, smeared all over his face, finally, he rises to his feet. “Turn around baby girl.” He orders, his voice husky from your slick.
You can do nothing but comply, he shoves you against the counter, your hips against the cold wood. You can hear him, his breaths are quick, he’s frantically unbuckling his belt, tying the brown leather around your wrists..
You feel his hard cock against your ass, and your eyes widen, forgetting how big he was, did he get bigger?
With one hand he pushes you down onto the bench so you’re lying, face down. “That’s it angel. You’re so fucking sweet, aren’t you baby?” He praises senselessly, the swollen tip of his cock meets your hole and you squeak out, he stretches you, beyond what you ever remembered. “J-Joel.” You whine and inhale sharply, face still pressed against the cold countertop, arms bound behind your back and his throbbing thick cock pushing inside of you, you’re helpless, completely at his mercy and you fucking love it.
Your cunt can testify the fact, it’s dripping, all over Joel, he pushes himself into the hilt of you and groans loudly, a loud grunt leaving his lips. One hand holds you flat against the counter, the other holds your bound arms at his chest.
He slowly starts to thrust, legs quaking with desire, he knows he won’t last long, fuck, he’s never had a pussy so perfect, not after you, all he knows is the warmth of you, your perfectly tight hole, sucking him in deeper.
Your moans are loud, but muffled by your cheeks squished against the counter, you can almost feel him in your ribs, with every thrust it feels like you’re running out of oxygen. Strangled gasps leave your lips as your pussy clenches around him, threatening to spill over a second time..
Joel can feel it, the way you grip him, he knows he won’t last, he grunts as he presses himself flush against you, your arms behind your back hinder his need to be closer to you, but this way.. he wraps his hand around your neck, bringing you upright, flush to his chest.
“Fuck, that’s it baby.” He growls, his cock pummels into you mercilessly, and now you’re free to cry out as loud as you can.
“Joel.. Joel.. I’m.. I..” you stutter, in between moans, your cunt clenching around him. You tense up as you orgasm a second time, creaming all over his throbbing cock.
He brings you totally upright, his hand tightening around your throat. “Fuck baby.. I’m gonna cum.. fill this perfect pussy up.” He whimpered into your ear, biting down on your neck.
You can feel him tensing, seconds later.. heavy and warm ropes of his cum spurt so far into your womb you whimper, knowing that he’s sure to get you knocked up.. again. He lets out the most obnoxious grunting as he pants heavily into your ears.
“Joel.. fuck I’m.. not on birth control.” You whimper. He keeps his cock inside of you, until he softens and pulls out of you, untying the belt that restrained your hands, as your hands fall limply by your sides, he kisses your shoulders, knowing there’s ought to be an ache.
“Good. Maybe we can have a do over after all, hm?” He murmurs softly, kissing the back of your neck. His hands find their way down to your stomach, caressing it softly. “Wouldn’t hurt to have just one more.. would it?”
After all, Joel Miller was a possessive man, a greedy man. You would bare as many children as he wished, because you weren’t ever going anywhere again. You were his.
“Might as well marry me again while you’re at it.” You tease breathlessly.
He hums against your skin, his forehead resting on the back of your shoulder. “Already thinkin’ bout it baby.”
Because Joel Miller wouldn’t let you get away, not this time.
709 notes · View notes
kakujis · 7 months
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☆ 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒...
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“...AND SHE'S FALLING ASLEEP, AS SHE'S WALKING WITH STRANGERS.”
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synopsis: satoru’s had his eye on you for a while, who other than his best friend, suguru, to help him get you home?
warnings: dark content/ageless + minors DNI. afab!fem reader, modern au, naive/shy! reader, non curse! au. yandere!satoru. drugging, dubcon, voyeurism(sort of), non-consensual picture taking/recording, dacryphilia, fingering, p*ssy slapping, creamp*e, restraints, possessive behavior, blackmail, degradation, praise, pet names (baby, princess, angel, good girl), drooling, your friends are really shitty, suguru calls u a slut like one time. suguru is mean, satoru is less mean kind of, he's probs ooc at times. that should be it, if i forgot anything pls lmk.
ft + wc: mainly gojo x reader, lil bit of suguru x reader. around 5.8k.
network: @enchantedforest-network
a/n: well. this was a doozy lol. i started it back in mid september and it's taken me around a month to get here which is actually pretty fast for me! this was supposed to be part of my first mini kinktober but u can see with the pace i'm writing at... well LOL. anyways, big thank you to wallaby for actually getting me out of the rut to write this, koca the loml for helping me w satoru's dialogue (dirty talk)!! @sxgars for the banner, and nie, the other loml, for proofreading!
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the embers burn under the twilight sky, as gojo satoru’s laugh bounces amongst the crowd. with feet buried in the sand, hands stuck in your hoodie, you stare at the bonfire. every so often, someone’ll throw another log in to keep it burning, the wood crackling like fireworks. it’s an interesting set of sounds, sights, and smells.  
your eyes flicker throughout the people surrounding you, some chatting away, some speaking only through makeout sessions, some are probably even arguing. none of them are your friends, not even acquaintances. you’re not sure why you agreed to come out tonight, coaxed by your own friends, who swore up and down they wouldn’t leave you alone this time, but ditched you when they found their hook up for the night. 
meanwhile, on the other side of the bonfire is gojo, handsome with snowy hair and blue eyes hidden behind his staple sunglasses, but loud and boisterous as he jokes with his friends, a small semi circle of individuals surrounding him. must be nice, you think before sighing and taking another sip of your watered down alcoholic drink, looking away when a voice calls out to you making you jump a little. 
“you alright?” he asks, squatting down to reach your eye level as you sit. when you look back, it’s geto suguru right in front of you, his own drink in hand, illuminated by the fiery light of the bonfire and the pale moonlight, the colors clashing against his skin. 
“i’m fine,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady, but you’re already ready to back away. you’ve always thought geto was handsome, tall, with dark hair and dark eyes, and an aura you just couldn’t read. perhaps it was the infatuation that kept you here on this sandy beach, even when your friends were long gone, eyes always finding him whenever one of you passed by each other at parties like this. “you?” 
“it’s alright,” he shrugs, pulling out a cigarette from his shirt pocket and leaning back, using the bonfire to light it up. you watch as he brings it back to his lips and takes a long drag, cheeks hollowing as he inhales, before making sure to blow away from you. “much better when there’s a pretty girl around.”  
you heat up, looking at your toes, peeking through the sand. “.. thank you,” you reply, struggling to look at him as he takes a seat next to you on your towel. “you’re not so bad yourself. you’re geto suguru, right?” 
“why, thank you,” he says, scooting closer to you, “and i am. what’s your name?” 
you give him your name, heart pounding away at the close proximity. beyond the scent of smoke, he smells woodsy, sort of like incense. you wonder if you smell similarly, your vanilla perfume mixing in with the bonfire fumes. 
“pretty name,” he says before he repeats it back, the syllables rolling off his tongue easily and straight into your stomach, “you staying out much longer?”
he makes you dizzy, and somewhat anxious, you were never planning - at least in this lifetime - on ever meeting him, let alone actually speaking to him. you’re not used to this, more comfortable with people watching than interacting.
you shake your head, “nah, i was gonna head home soon,” you glance out toward the ocean swells, waves crashing against the beach before they recede back into the tide. “my friends are already gone, so there’s not much else for me to do.”
“aw, really? that’s a shame,” he replies and you peek back, his mouth pressed into a hard line, his  thumb tapping against his cheek, before he nods, brightening up. “need someone to walk you home?” 
you pause, “um… no, it’s okay, i-”
“you’re gonna walk home this late at night?” he asks, cutting you off with an eyebrow raised, “by yourself?” 
you glance over at the darkened road, the dim lights of the city sprinkled far off in the distance. it’s foreboding and who knows what lurks in the dark? besides, wouldn’t it be better to walk home with someone? the warm amber light from the fire plays on his face as you glance back at him. 
“i don’t bite,” he continues, giving a reassuring smile as his hands come up playfully, “i swear.”  
“… okay,” you give in, nodding, “sure.” you make a move to get up, but he stops you. 
“wait,” he starts, bringing his drink up closer towards you. “let’s have a toast.”
you giggle, the tension easing out of you, before holding yours up as well, “a toast to what?” 
he smiles back, “to new friendship.” he tips his cup to yours, but doesn’t take into account how much stronger his clink would be compared to yours. the rest of your sticky drink crashes down onto you, spilling and seeping through your clothes, while suguru’s quick to mutter out, “oh shit, sorry!” 
you shake your head, “don’t worry! it’s fine!” but suguru isn’t hearing it, his cigarette dangling haphazardly from his mouth as his brow is scrunched in concentration while he tries his best to wipe at the mess with his hands. embarrassingly, your core flutters at his touch, especially when his fingers swipe across your thighs. 
“let me clean you up,” he says, half mumbled from the cig, handing his drink over to you, before unzipping his jacket. “don’t have any napkins on me, sorry.” 
your nerves continue to fire off, getting the best of you and the words of ‘really! it’s fine!’ die off your tongue. you glance around, looking for something, anything, to take your mind off of geto’s sweater dragging across your exposed skin, especially when he dips down in between your thighs dangerously close to your heat, to dab at the liquid that’s dripping off your body. 
gojo’s laugh booms again, causing you to glance over at him and you welcome the distraction. you catch his eye and he gives you an excited little wave, catching you off guard. you wonder if he can see just how flustered you are, but still, you raise your own hand back and he grins wider, before breaking eye contact as someone else calls for his attention. 
in an effort to calm your nerves, the recent memory of gojo’s affable bright smile definitely not helping, you take a big swig of suguru’s drink, forgetting it’s not even yours. his drink is stronger, thanks to the lack of melted ice, burning as it slides down your throat which makes you cough up some, scrunching your nose as some liquid runs down the side of your mouth. 
but geto uses a thumb to catch it, smirking at the way you blink up at him bewildered, “all clean.” 
you take a breath to steady yourself before speaking, “um, could you…  take me home?” you push his hands away, wanting nothing more than to hide under the safety of your covers. at this rate, you might pass out, the night’s been a bit too eventful for your taste. 
he nods, getting up and dusting himself before reaching out with an outstretched hand. you take it without hesitation, tensing when he starts to brush the sand off your shorts. you let him do that for a few moments, breathing hitching when his hand gets concerningly close to the bare skin of the back of your thighs, heart thrumming in your chest and pounding in your ears.
“just making sure,” he says, before he throws his cigarette into the pit, slinging his jacket over his shoulder. “lead the way, princess.” he grins as he steps off to the side to make room and give a small courtesy bow which makes you laugh. 
he makes eye contact with satoru and gives a small wave before leaving with you, catching you each time you stumble in the sand, marked by shoe and foot prints from excited partygoers. he lets you know that he’s got you each time while you mutter out various ‘sorry’s!’ meanwhile, gojo peers over his friends, eyes honing in on your forms before he says a quick goodbye to them and runs off. 
as the two of you are finally on solid land, you hear a “wait a minute!” and glance back. jogging towards you is none other than gojo satoru and suddenly you feel like throwing up. you’re not too good at meeting a new person, let alone two. 
“hi!” he says as he huffs, hands placed on his knees. 
“are you actually winded from that?” geto laughs, a pretty little tune that plays on your ear. 
“i drank so much, dude. give me a break.” gojo responds. 
you’re even more uncomfortable as the two of them joke around, stuffing your hands into your pockets as you stare at the ground. satoru shifts so he’s in your view, bending sideways, pretty snowy hair falling down his face. 
“anyways… hey.” he says again but softer this time, twinkly eyes on yours as the corners of his lips upturn. “i’m satoru.” 
“hi,” you say, giving a small wave, before you state your name. “nice to meet you.” 
nervously, you glance back up at geto, who smiles reassuringly back at you. with your heart definitely beating a mile a minute, you back away. “it’s this way.” you say, jutting your thumb behind you, and the two friends nod. 
“we’ll follow you,” geto says, nudging gojo to stand up straight, who in turn, elbows him back. “go ahead.” 
you nod, trudging forward, listening to their continued talk behind you. it’s just their voices, the sea breeze, and the sound of shoes on pavement as you walk. you look back towards them, taking a moment to eye them, you drink in their tall, built forms, the matching dark outfits, sweaters and all, and for a bit, you decide to trust them. you trust the easy going smiles, the laid-back banter, and the way that satoru smiles each time he looks at you does a lot to ease the tension in your body. 
it’s not too long into your walk, maybe only 30 minutes since you took the last of your drink, before you start to feel… strange. there’s a heaviness that starts to settle in your limbs, your mind going foggy. you reach out, grabbing onto one of their sleeves, who’s sleeve? you’re not sure, but you grasp it trying to dig your nails into the cotton fabric, as your knees buckle from your own weight. 
“hey? are you okay?” a voice asks, bouncing around your brain as the scenery starts to spin. you must’ve grabbed suguru’s sleeve, as you try to focus on the inky strands of hair that fall past his shoulders. you reach out with your other arm, trying to grab onto something as you continue to fall, a ring starting to settle in your ears. 
“geto?” you call, as you feel another large hand on your lower back, trying to keep you steady. “i think, i need… to go home.” but you don’t hear a reply as the void takes over you, swallowing you up, as you fall completely unconscious into the arms of geto suguru. 
the two of them are quiet, the easy-going atmosphere suddenly gone. you’re thrown over geto’s arm haphazardly, limbs limp, as they stare down at you. gojo speaks first.
“that was quick,” he says, bending down to brush your hair away from your face. “how much did you give her?” he trails his finger down your cheek, poking the skin, before tracing the outline of your lips. he has half a mind to kiss you, but decides against it, wanting his first with you to be when you’re awake.
“the usual,” geto responds and if you were awake, you’d see he feels a little colder, eyes almost vacant. “you wanna carry her? you like her more don’t you?” 
“i don’t just like her,” gojo responds, before he’s lifting you out of geto’s arms. “i’m gonna make her my girlfriend and depending on how well things go, i’ll marry her soon.. ish.” he cradles you gently, carrying you in his arms, princess-style like as he watches you with mirth filled eyes. 
geto rolls his eyes, “oh yeah, i’m sure she’s gonna wanna date you after this.” 
gojo snorts, glaring daggers at his best friend, “she’s not gonna have a choice.” 
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maybe if you weren’t so naive, you wouldn’t have ended up like this. you blink awake, body still heavy from whatever drug was, or perhaps is, still coursing through your veins. the lull of sleep continues to beckon you over, the weight of your eyelids aiding in it’s cause, but you try to stay awake. something feels wrong. 
you decide to start with your legs, wiggling them around when you realize you’re in a bed rubbing your legs against the silken sheets. you focus upwards, wanting to move your arms to prop yourself up, until you realize: you can’t.
the rope around your wrists is tight, coiled up and keeping you locked in place. even as you try your best to wriggle out of them, you’re doing nothing but giving yourself rope burns as panic starts to settle within your bones.the room you’re in looks normal enough, a desk off to the side, jacket hanging on the door, but there’s something sinister in how normal it looks. and you wonder just whose bedroom is this? 
“oh, hey, you’re up.” you hear as the bed dips under the newly added weight. it’s gojo, peering down at you. he’s taken off his top and jacket, leaving only his pants, and if you weren’t terrified, you’d probably appreciate the sight. you can see his eyes clearly now, his sunglasses sitting atop his nightstand and as beautiful as they are, you can’t be lost in them for long. 
“gojo?” you try, voice barely louder than a whisper. 
“call me satoru.” he responds, a pretty smile gracing his features. 
“where..” 
“are you?” another voice chimes in, a voice that’s sweet, almost mockingly so. you glance towards the direction it’s coming from to see suguru, head leaning against his open palm. he smiles when the two of you make eye contact, the same disarming smile he gave you a few hours ago. “heyo~”
you’re still disoriented, glancing back between the two of them as you try your best to slide out of the binds. 
“hey, hey,” satoru starts, placing a hand over your wrists, “you’re gonna hurt yourself, baby.” his warmth isn’t comforting, it’s terrifying and the way that pet name falls off his tongue so easily freaks you out further. just where the fuck are you?
you can feel your tears welling up, nevermind the fact that your consciousness is still foggy. you’re exposed - vulnerable - with two men you’ve only met recently. there’s goosebumps on your skin, clad in nothing but your panties as you try to curl in on yourself, but gojo won’t let you. instead, he wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer, your head resting on his thigh. 
“gojo,” you plead, starting to sniffle, “i wanna go home…” 
“satoru.” he reminds you gently, before his hand starts to trail up and down your side, trying his best to comfort you. “i’ll take you home later, okay?” 
you shake your head, tears starting to fall, little droplets stain his pants, “why not now-”
“told you,” suguru drawls, interrupting you while his expression remains uninterested, “she’s scared out of her mind.” 
“thanks suguru, great input.” satoru deadpans, shooting him a glare before his focus is back on you. “i can’t take you home yet, but i will. i promise.” and those words shoot straight to your stomach. it’s so eerily similar to earlier, when geto promised he’d take you home and that he was safe. 
“my friends…” you mumble, “are gonna notice i’m missing.” it’s a pathetic attempt of a threat, your friends are already long gone and home for the night, but there’s the hope that when morning comes and your “i’m home” text doesn’t show up, they’re bound to notice, right? 
“hm? which ones? the ones that left you or the ones that let us take you here? oh wait, those are the same ones.” suguru taunts, snickering as the pit in your stomach grows by the moment, “it’s really funny what people will do for money.” 
you furrow your brow, heart shattering at the confession, because there’s no way your friends would sell you out. but the shit-eating grin that won’t leave suguru’s face, almost as if it’s etched in stone, silently confirms your worst fears. “i don’t…” - understand is the word that should be said, but it escapes you like the sand between your fingers on that fucking beach that you never should’ve been at in the first place. 
“okay, so, don’t freak out.” gojo starts, before muttering, “well i guess you already are, huh.” on the brightside, the drug suguru gave you is strong enough that the disorientation nestled so deeply within you is able to keep your screaming at bay. 
satoru’s focus, unlike yours, is almost too sharp. he’s been chasing after you for a while, but finally having you in his headlights is driving him insane. the tips of his fingers continue tracing up your arm til they find the depressions in your neck, that he has half a mind to wrap around to see what you’d look like with his hand as a necklace. but that can wait, he’ll be soft with you for the first time. 
“the important thing is that you’re here with me. you came out to have fun right? have fun with me and i’ll take you home.” he winks, his easy-going front still on full force as he tries to calm you down, but you flinch when he gets a little too close to your lips. 
in your mind you know, there’s always a catch. “what do you want from me?” you ask, voice featherlight, but everyone in the room knows what it is he wants. 
“i think you know,” suguru chimes and if you could curse him out, you probably would. “why else would we bring you here?” 
“hmm,” gojo hums, his thumb gliding across the top of your cheek to swipe at some of your tears. “you know, you’ve been coming around to our little get togethers for a while, but this is probably our first real conversation.”
gojo’s always liked you. when he first saw you, he thought you were cute. doe-eyed and clumsily searching for an open spot to sit while you did your best to hold onto your friend’s shirt, you caught his eye. cuter still were the pretty laughs that came from you, sometimes even snorting when something particularly funny was said. 
there was a minor issue though: you’d never look at him, no matter how much he bounced off the walls, even when he’d head over and say ‘hi’ to your friends, you scampered away much more interested in your hands situated in your lap. and maybe that was the charm, you were prey he wanted to catch. 
it wasn’t long til he noticed your quick, continued glances at suguru and how you only did it when you were sure he wouldn’t notice you. he was sulky at first, irritated that his best friend seemed to take his spotlight, but who is geto suguru if not gojo satoru’s closest and greatest friend? and with enough prying, geto got the information out of him and simply laughed. gojo was a little hesitant when geto suggested a plan, something they haven’t done in a while. 
“i dunno, i thought we decided we were over that.” satoru pouted that day as he stared off, focused on the others at the park. 
“you got any bright ideas, lover boy?” suguru retorted, leaning back on the park bench, hands in his pockets. 
“nah.” he shrugged, elbows on his knees and bent forward. and so they ended up here again, except, in gojo’s bedroom for once. 
“you know your friends were pretty easy to convince,” satoru grimaces, his thumb swiping at your tears. “you should really get some new ones.” 
you’re unsure if you’re more mortified than flattered that satoru feels so strongly for you. but there are no words that spring up in your mind, there’s nothing you can possibly say. 
“listen, the goal here, princess,” suguru starts putting emphasis on the pet name as he gestures between you and gojo. “is that satoru fucks you, you’re his girl, and you guys get to live happily ever after.” 
“...and if i refuse?” you counter, but your voice is still barely above a whisper as tears continue to fall down your face. 
“dunno if you wanna do that.” satoru sighs, before he catches the phone that suguru throws over. he opens it up, before turning it towards you revealing the photos they took of you earlier, tied up and exposed. “i mean you do look really cute in these, but i’d rather they stay in our circle for now.” 
the weight of that word is heavy, because there is no universe in which you’re allowed to say no. you’ve fallen deep into their sticky web with no chance of climbing out, the only thing left is for their fangs to sink into you. the images they’ve taken burn into your mind and you steel yourself to find your resolve. 
there’s a few pros when you think about it. gojo’s handsome, a little funny, and seems to actually like you. you’re not entirely sure if it outweighs the con of fucking drugging and then kidnapping you, but what can you do with the cards you’ve been dealt? geto is whole nother can of worms you don’t feel like delving into. 
“fine.” you sniffle and gojo perks up, lips curling up into a smile. “… i’ll do whatever you want.”  
“told you she’d say yes.” he singsongs as the other rolls his eyes. “that settles it, you’re officially apart of the gojo clan!” neither you, nor suguru, have the heart to tell him that you didn’t actually agree to marriage. 
“well then!” suguru claps, making you jolt. “let’s get started, yeah?” he shifts from his spot, moving til he’s back up against the headrest. “let’s get you a little more comfortable,” he says, pulling you up til your back is flush against his clothed chest. “that’s better.” 
you don’t have time to worry about just how fast things are going when satoru slots himself between your legs, heart racing in fear mixed with anticipation when he pushes your panties to the side as his fingers flutter around your clit. 
meanwhile, suguru is pulling your thighs back, locked beneath his elbows. as much as you want to close your legs, you can’t. suguru’s too strong for you. 
“you don’t need these, right?” gojo mutters, hands gripping one side of your underwear, but there’s no reason to answer as he rips them clean apart, chucking them onto the floor. 
it’s silent for a moment as satoru watches the rise and fall of your chest, quickened in your panicked state, before his eyes meet yours. he grins, “man, you’re so fucking cute, you know?” 
you heat up under his gaze, and you try to look away, but he simply leans in, so close your noses almost touch as he stares deeply into you before looking down at your lips. your breath hitches again as his lips ghost over yours and you shut your eyes when he asks, “can i?” 
it’s an odd first kiss with your hands tied up and his best friend in the same bed as you in a tangled mess of limbs but he’s surprisingly soft. you’re falling, so deeply into the kiss that you don’t notice the way suguru pulls your knees up more so he can get better access to your chest. 
you squeak when you feel a pinch on your nipple, suguru seemingly getting bored and deciding to pass the time playing with you. your squeals soon turn to moans as he rolls the nub between his fingers and satoru uses the opportunity to slip his tongue in, spit mixing with yours as your mouths mesh together. 
his fingers find their way downward again, lightly trailing up and down your folds with feather light touches, making you twitch each time he brushes against your clit. you jolt when he sinks a finger in, encouraged by the wetness of your hole, pushing back against geto in an attempt to squirm away, but you can’t, sandwiched between two men who can do whatever they want, however they want.  
gojo’s good, adding in another thick finger to your slick heat and sliding in your gummy walls. it’s different from when you do it, your digits are slender and smaller than his. you keel, moaning and thighs trembling, but gojo’s lips stay firmly on yours as does geto’s hand which continues to pinch and palm at your breast, sending ripples of hot pleasure through you. 
“you gonna cum on his fingers, pretty?” geto murmurs, voice low as he nips at your ear. 
satoru continues to pump away, fingers curling into your sweet spot and dotting your vision in stars of white. he picks up the pace when you mewl louder, the sound rushing straight to his dick as your slick rolls down his hand. you press further into suguru, whimpering and thighs tensing before you cum messily on satoru’s fingers, bucking and kicking as much as he allows you. 
“that’s it,” suguru drawls, his hot breath on your ear, “good fuckin’ job.” he says it like he’s the one inside you, churning up your insides. 
satoru pulls away, a small trail of saliva connecting the two of you that he laps up with his tongue. he slightly groans at your pretty spit slicked lips, before he’s taking out his aching cock. he’s big. big enough to make you whimper as he rubs your juices over his cockhead, precum already beaded on his tip, before running it through your sensitive folds. he’s slow, wanting to enjoy his first time with you, as he lines up to your still twitching entrance. 
“fuck,” he hisses as he sinks inch by inch into your dripping pussy. the stretch drives you insane even with the prep beforehand and he stills when he bottoms out, hips flush with yours. “sucked me all in, huh?” 
suguru and satoru move like they’re sync’d, somehow knowing what the other wants to do. suguru’s hands are replaced as satoru pushes your knees back up against your chest as your head lolls backward onto suguru’s shoulder, mouth agape.
“ah, ah,” suguru tuts, cupping your cheeks with one hand before forcing you to look back at the other. “let him see your pretty face.” 
“s-sorry,” you manage to say before satoru starts moving, your breath getting caught in your throat as you mewl out, “oh, fuck.” 
a breathless smile falls on satoru’s face, as he watches yours contort in pleasure with each slow drag of his cock within your tight walls that seem to swallow him up with each thrust. your embarrassment is long gone, replaced with a fervent need as satoru fucks every single thought out of your brain. 
“satoru,” you whimper and he digs his nails harder into your thighs, to not blow his load right then and there, but the way you plead his name as you stare up at him with needy, glass-blown eyes almost sends him over the edge. “satoru.” 
“yeah?” he coos, leaning in and tilting his head, as he slows the pace down, “what do you want from me, baby?” 
“use your words,” suguru says, pressing hot kisses to your cheek, reminding you that he’s still there. “c’mon, i know you’ve still got some in that pretty little head of yours.” you can feel his erection pressing against your back, as his hand snakes down to your clit to rub slow, sticky circles on your sensitive nub. “or are you too dumb on satoru’s cock, hm?”
gojo laughs, spurred on by geto’s continued teasing, “aww man i think she is. wanna be my lil cocksleeve? get fucked stupid everyday?” 
he laughs harder when your eyes roll back, cunt clenching at his words, the first time you’ve been talked down to like this. meanwhile, suguru switches to hook a finger into your mouth, digging his nail into the wet, warm cavern of your cheek, hot breath puffing onto his hand. when your eyes flutter up at him, he snickers, “you good?”
you feel a tap on your cheek and shift your blurry focus back on the one inside you, buried up to the hilt while his hips still slightly grind into you. his blue eyes burn through you and in moments like this, you truly can’t read him. “answer me.” 
through the haze you nod, but it’s not a good enough answer in suguru’s book. “you can do better than that.” he chastises bringing his hand down onto your puffy clit, slapping hard enough to make you squeal and bite down on the digit keeping your mouth open.
tears prick your widened eyes as he does it again, “that’s for biting me, brat.” he hisses, and you find your words again, stumbling out ‘sorry! ‘m sorry!’ as drool runs down your chin and his hand. but suguru is fucking mean, swatting down at your puffy pussy, each hit just as hard; a stark contrast to the sneer on his features while he hooks in yet another finger to pull your cheek further out. 
although the nicer of the two, satoru can’t help but be enamored with everything you do, especially if you’re screaming and crying trapped between the arms of his best friend. his cock twitches in your cunt, “well fuck, aren’t you pretty when you’re cryin’ on me?” he groans, pulling back out just to slam his hips back into yours at a brutal pace making you squeal louder.
you’re incredibly overwhelmed, glancing back between the two of them as the tears start to leak down your face again, chest heaving. you hate that it feels so fucking good to be used like this, having absolutely no control. still, you fight against your restraints once more, trying to raise your hands just enough to push against satoru’s abs to slow down, but it’s all moot, he won’t stop until he’s satisfied.
“shh,” suguru soothes, starting to play with your clit again, trying to ease the sting. “sorry for getting carried away, you’re just so fun to ruin.” his hand once again moving to cup under your chin, smearing drool and tears across your skin and  tilting you so that his tongue is able to press against your cheek, licking a stripe to taste the saltiness of your tears as his chest vibrates with a low groan. he can’t wait til it’s his turn to get his hands on you. 
“suguru - oh fuck - ‘m sorry, fuck, ‘m really sorry,” you blubber between moans, still whining and writhing, he raises an eyebrow at you with a hungry grin, liking the way you call his name. 
but satoru’s the one who answers, breathless and groaning, “it’s okay princess, shit, don’t worry about it. just focus on me, alright?” 
you’re pliant and close to your high, easily shifting back to satoru, watching him through muddied vision and mumbling out, “mkay, satoru.” 
the sweat rolls down the side of his brow and he’s so close to letting go, but satoru’s a bit of a romantic, thinking it’d be best for you to cum at the same time. still, the way you call his name has him glaring up at suguru, letting him know what he wants. 
his friend nods in acknowledgment as the speed of his fingers quickens, expertly working over your clit. “c’mon,” suguru taunts, already caught on to how much you like it when they’re mean, “be a good little slut and cum on satoru’s cock, yeah?” 
his words run straight to your core, as you babble out “mhms,” body tensing and jerking as your orgasm is finally coaxed out of you.
“fuck,” satoru hisses, groaning out, “good fucking girl.” as he unleashes his load deep into you. 
you hiccup and whine a few more times before you go limp in suguru’s hold, falling asleep. 
“shit, i think she passed out again.” suguru mumbles before he undoes your bindings, uncharacteristically kind as he rubs his palms over your tired and sore wrists. carefully, he slips out from underneath you, letting you fall back onto the bed. “you overdid it, satoru.” 
gojo’s unresponsive, chest heaving as he stays within you, so geto takes it upon himself to do the finishing touches. he reaches over, grabbing his phone and unlocking the camera app. 
pressing the red button, he captures the scene. you’re effectively passed out at this point, arms sprawled at your sides and head lolled back. this is always his favorite part, even more so than the actual fucking. there’s just something so fun about recording the aftermath, messy and dirty and oh so wet. 
satoru swoops down into view, throwing a wink and a smile, before reaching out for the phone. suguru obliges, tossing it over to let gojo capture what he sees. 
“you stayin’ over?” gojo asks, paneling down the expanse of your skin, littered in sweat, cum, and marks. he makes sure to record when he pulls out, as slowly as he can, to show off your swollen hole leaking out his seed.
“yeah, i’ll knock out on the couch.” geto replies, grimacing as he notices the wet patch of cum and fluids on his pants. he swipes a clean pair of gojo’s hanging on the back of his computer chair before heading out. he stops at the door with a quick turnaround to ask, “let me play with her sometime?” 
“of course,” his friend responds, kneeling down between your legs, spreading open your folds to further watch his sticky cum drip from your abused hole. “i owe you big time. let me know if you need any help yeah?”
gojo’s like a kid in a candy shop, delving his fingers in between your hole and your folds to catch some of the sticky substance dripping to the floor before bringing it up to the camera with a whistle. 
suguru shrugs, hungry eyes scanning back to your sleeping form before his lips curl up into a smirk. “nah, don’t think i’ll need to.” 
and satoru’s the same, just as insatiable as his friend, tossing his phone to the floor before he’s crawling up over you again, nose burying into your dizzying scent. fuck, he should’ve asked if you were cool with somno. well, maybe it’d be alright. it’s not the worst thing he’s done tonight. 
2K notes · View notes
venusbby · 1 year
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post it, or don't ♡
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characters/pairings: itoshi rin x reader
warnings: one cuss word lol, not proofread sorry if there's any typos!!! have a good day people.
✿ summary: your tired boyfriend is not a big fan of your spam account being filled with his overly cute photos.
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"stop that—"
"stop what?"
"you're taking pictures of me."
"im not, rinnie."
you definitely were.
how could you not take pictures of him when he's sprawled out on top of you like a house cat?
although he was trying his best not to put all of his weight on you, it was impossible to control himself. especially when his body was quite sore from his new workout routine.
rin was unusually clingy today, his exhaustion was responsible for that. initially, all he needed was to lie down on the bed and let his muscles rest against the mattress— but then he realised you were already there, scrolling through your social media.
he just couldn't say no when you opened your arms and called out to him with that soft voice of yours, and he had already started to dream of the satisfying feeling of your hands running through his hair by that time.
and that's how he ended up with his face nestled in your neck and his legs tangled with yours, much to your enjoyment and his instant regret when you clicked on the camera icon and watched the mess of the dark green hair that tickled your cheek.
he didn't realise anything at first because his eyes were closed and he was actually considering falling asleep right then and there. however, the clicking sound of your phone was enough to make him groan and hide his face further.
but your laugh was so soft yet contagious, right next to his ear, and he was holding onto that one string of hope that you wouldn't record a video of his immediate complaints.
"babyyy, say hi!" you said while doing the exact thing he didn't want you to do— recording a video. it was so fun to get on his nerves sometimes.
all he could do was give the side of your bare hips a light squeeze as he tried his best to speak quietly so the video wouldn't pick up what he was saying. "you make me fucking miserable."
your cheeks hurt from how hard you smiled. "alright, okay. i've got my pictures, im satisfied. i'll leave you alone now."
rin slowly peeked up when you placed your phone on the bedside table and shot a glare as you looked down at him. "you're not posting that. i'm tired of seeing my face on my own feed."
"yeah! totally not posting that."
"y/n." it's become a daily thing for him to use your name in that warning tone. "not even the paparazzi post as many pictures of me as you do."
you rolled your eyes. "it's because i'm your biggest fan. just one?"
"no."
"rinnie, pretty please. you just look so cute. gosh, you look even cuter right now." you tried to soften his edges a bit, feeling your chest implode with love because God, your boyfriend was so effortlessly cute. especially when his tired eyes were covered with his dark strands.
all you got in return was a grunt and rin was back to burying his face in the crook of your neck. he really didn't have the energy to deal with your weird ways of convincing. he just needed sleep, and you— he had both of his favourite things now.
you knew he granted you permission once he stopped, or more like gave up, and thanked him softly.
rin hummed as your hands ran over his neck and shoulders and lightly pressed his stiff muscles. a massage to top it all off, your boyfriend was quite literally seeing stars.
"squeeze harder," he mumbled, exhaling slowly when you did as he told you to.
"so, you've been working out."
he didn't respond, waiting for you to say something more related to that as you pondered while pressing your thumb into his skin to ease out the tension.
"don't i deserve a photo or two?" you proposed, a shameless grin on your face when you heard your lover make another noise in annoyance.
"maybe if you don't post that video," rin said, planting a quick kiss against your warm neck as he continued, knowing he had found a good solution. "i'll send you some."
and a few days later, you realised that it was a pretty good deal.
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fjskfjskfndmcndkv. this is all i have to show. bye fellow rin enjoyers.
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5K notes · View notes
taevbears · 6 months
Text
Movie Night
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When horror movies don't scare you anymore, your boyfriend wants to figure out what you are afraid of.
⤑ pairing: Jungkook x fem!reader (feat. the Daegu boys) ⤑ genre: horror, mystery, suspense, one-shot ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 6.1k ⤑ warnings: obsessive behavior, stalking, depictions of kidnapping, torture, and multiple murders, hidden camera, non-explicit sex, a bit of angst, open ending. this fic gets pretty dark, so please be cautious of the warnings! ⤑ note: happy halloween! this started as a little spooky shower thought i had a little over a month ago and became this lol. i love reading scary stories, but lmao, i feel like i'm not very good at writing them. thank you @angelicyoongie for assuring me that this isn't as terrible as i think it is. also please note that this is a work of fiction and i don't think IRL jungkook is like the character in this fic at all
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“No, please! Don’t hurt me!”
The shadow of a muscular, male figure looms over the female protagonist. His breaths are heavy from chasing her around, barely visible against the chilly, October air. Finally, he has her cornered. He holds up a sharp knife in the air.
The woman trembles on the ground, sobbing and pleading for her life to be spared. Mascara runs down her cheeks, and a look of hopelessness and despair fills her eyes. She holds her hands in front of her in a feeble attempt to defend herself.
The camera pans away as the killer violently stabs the woman. Her terrifying screams of pain and anguish echoes from the TV screen as fake blood splatters on the wall.
Blue and white light bathes over you and your date in the dim living room. You try to suppress a long yawn with the back of your hand.
You’re so bored, you’re practically in tears.
“You didn’t like it?” Jungkook asks you, chuckling at your reaction.
“It didn’t scare me,” you admit sheepishly, hoping he doesn’t get the wrong idea.
You love horror movies. It’s what inspired you to become a film student. You love being on the edge of your seat from the thrill and suspense that the main character acts out. You love being genuinely shocked from unexpected twists and jump-scares. You love a good ghost story that haunts you long after the credits roll, or the paranoia of a similar terrifying incident happening to you.
But perhaps, over time, they’ve lost a bit of their magic.
Although the production of movies has become phenomenal in recent years, movies these days seem to rely too heavily on shock value and nostalgia. Once popular franchises are milking out their legacies to a newer audience. There are so many retellings of the same, old stories that you can already accurately predict what will happen before you reach the ending. Even some of the most climactic scenes of the movie are so over-the-top, they’re almost comical.
Honestly, it has nothing to do with your date or even the so-called horror movie itself. You just don’t scare as easily anymore.
Jungkook peers are you curiously, a boyish grin on his face. “Then, what are you scared of?”
“I don’t know. Probably nothing.”
“Yeah? That’s a bold statement.”
“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”
Jungkook laughs. “You have to be scared of something.”
You throw the question back at him. “Then, what are you afraid of?”
He thinks about it, rubbing his chin in thought and pushing his tongue against the lip rings on his mouth. Then, he meets your gaze. There’s a sparkle in his eyes as he smiles at you. “Hmm, I think I’d be scared to lose you.”
You find yourself smiling back at him.
“You’re so sweet, Kook,” you tell him, leaning over to kiss him.
Only recently, you and Jungkook started dating officially, and you really like him a lot. He’s very cute, funny, handsome, and perfect in many ways. Butterflies flutter in your stomach when you’re around him, and there’s still that exciting giddiness and eagerness of new love whenever he messages you or visits you in the evening.
In some ways, Jungkook is almost too good to be true.
Part of you wonders if there’s a catch.
But with his lips on yours, it’s easy to push that thought aside.
Credits roll on the screen as the movie comes to an end. His fingers glide up your thigh as yours tangle into his hair. The cool piercing on his lips presses against your bottom lip as he slips his tongue in your mouth, and a soft moan escapes you.
Suddenly, Jungkook pulls away and faces the TV. He uses the remote to tap out of the movie credits and browse through the list of recommended shows on your streaming service. Casually, trying to hide a teasing smirk, he asks, “How about we watch a different movie, then?”
You stare back at him, a bit stunned and flustered. But your own smile touches your lips.
“Or,” you suggest, grabbing his wrist to lower the remote. He turns away from the screen to look at you, eyes lingering on the sultry smile on your lips. “I know something else we can do instead.”
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When you first saw Jungkook, you thought you were being catfished.
His selfie on the dating app included a slight head tilt, a pucker of his pierced lips, and a peace sign. Big, doe-shaped eyes stared back at you from your phone screen, and you noticed the tiny moles below his lip, on the tip of his nose, and on his cheek.
The second picture was of him and his brown doberman, affectionately named Bam. The picture was taken of them outside. One of his hands was holding a tennis ball and the other was gently touching the dog’s long ears. A small, fond smile tugged on your lips when you looked between them and realized that they kind of looked alike.
The third picture was him at the gym. It was a back-shot where he was using the equipment. Broad shoulders, buff arms and back, a tiny waist. You stared way too long at his strong muscles and the ink on his arm before you finally swiped right.
Turned out, much to your surprise, he liked your pictures too. The two of you were a match.
And it wasn’t long until he sent his first message to you. In your inbox, a simple: “hey :)”
On your first date, the two of you agreed to meet at a very public, very crowded bistro. You stood nervously by the building, dressed nice for the occasion. And in case anything went wrong or if this Jungkook guy wasn’t who you expected him to be, you shared your location and had a “send help lol” message on standby for your bestie, Min Yoongi.
As you waited, scrolling through and jumping around different apps on your phone, you found yourself to be surprised yet again.
Someone who looked like the guy you’ve been chatting with called out your name. And soon, he was standing in front of you: big eyes, bigger muscles, tiny beauty marks on his face, colorful ink on his arm, a charming smile, and a simple, “Hey, I’m Jungkook.”
One date turned to a second date. Then, a third. And by the fourth date, as he laid in your bed that night and snuggled close to you, it finally started to sink in that Jungkook wasn’t some figment of your imagination.
He was real, and sweet, and seemed to really like you as well.
Jungkook, like you, had an interest in filming. He especially liked editing videos for his dance challenges, short clips, and a series he called “Golden Closet Film” on his channel. While you imagined yourself to be a big director, working in movie sets, and making scripts come to life with your vision, Jungkook told you he’d like to film a project where you’re the star.
“I don’t think I’m on-screen material,” you replied, amused by the idea. You’re not an actress. You don’t think you have the kind of beauty filmmakers seek out for their lead roles. Hell, if anything, Jungkook would be a better fit for an acting gig.
“You are,” he insisted, brushing his thumb against your knuckles. “To me, you’re perfect.”
You smiled at him then, your heart fluttering by his words. “You are to me, too.”
It was shortly after that conversation when you both decided to date each other exclusively. And it felt like the kind of romance you’d see in the movies. Picture perfect, a little corny at times, and a thrilling whirlwind of laughter, teasing remarks, and intimate touches.
“Am I who you thought I’d be?” Jungkook asks you the next morning after the movie-night bust, propping himself up on the side and peering down on you. His arm flexes, colorful ink decorating it, as the thick comforter wraps around his bare body.
“No,” you confessed, still a bit tired from last night. You keep your eyes closed as you quietly murmur, “You’re even better.”
“Yeah?”
You don’t need to open your eyes to see the pleased look on his face. As you feel him press his lips against your cheek, you ask, “What about me? Am I who you thought I’d be?”
Had you opened your eyes then, perhaps you would’ve seen it. The blank look on his face as he pulls away from you, how the light in his eyes suddenly seems to vanish, as if he isn’t really looking at you anymore.
Jungkook doesn’t answer you right away. When you open your eyes, you see him shaking his head. The same, sweet boyish smile appears on his lips.
“You’re exactly what I’m looking for.”
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The topic about exes inevitably came up early on in your relationship with Jungkook. You’ve dated casually before. Even thought you’d be getting somewhere with some of the guys you were talking to.
But none of them quite compared to Kim Taehyung.
You were a film student. He was a photography major. The two of you were bound to end up in some of the same classes together in the art division.
To you, it was love at first sight. You fell for him so hard and so fast.
What started as bumping into each other at the library and helping each other with assignments led to making out at each other’s dorms with the text books left unopened. Coffee dates between classes became anniversary dinners at nice restaurants. He introduced you to his parents, and you proposed going on a romantic getaway together.
The day you didn’t think you’d ever love anyone else was when he snapped a photo of you looking out at the scenery during that weekend trip. It was just you and him, and a natural setting that looked straight out of a movie.
He smiled to himself as he looked at the picture through his camera. That day, he called you his muse.
And in return, you told him that you loved him.
When you fell for Taehyung, you fell hard and fast. Eventually, it occurred to you that Taehyung didn’t do the same.
Sure, he cared about you. Sure, he loved you. But while you heard wedding bells and dreamed about your future with him, Taehyung was just starting to put himself out there in the world. His art was being recognized, and he was getting booked to shoot at weddings, parties, and other big events every week.
Soon, the dates happened less frequently. The romantic gestures of bringing you flowers, surprising you on nice dates or small gifts, or even renting your favorite movies to watch together happened even less. He would promise that he’d make it to a party or an important event to you, just to let you down. And it felt like him giving you a bit of affection or attention was a chore.
Taehyung was the world to you, but the petty arguments and the distance that started growing between you two made it clear to you where his priorities were. And it wasn’t with you.
Breaking up with him was the hardest thing you had to do. Both of you knew it was coming. It was just a matter of who broke up with who first.
Just as Taehyung came into your life, quickly and effortlessly, he was gone. Nothing but bittersweet memories of what once was and what could have been weighed heavily on you for months.
What made it worse was that Taehyung, a man you loved with all your heart, had moved on from you so fast and so easily.
You saw him and his new girlfriend at a mutual friend’s party. You were warned that he’d be there, that he was already seeing someone. But it still hurt like hell to see him happy and in love with another person.
But if Taehyung could move on, so could you.
It felt weird at first, but you started to put yourself out there again. You joined dating apps. You went out with the people that fancied your interest. You met Jungkook.
And from there, everything was history.
With Jungkook, you started to think about Taehyung a lot less. The plaguing “what ifs” have quieted down, and the hurt from heartbreak began to heal. With Jungkook, you started to feel like yourself again: you started to smile more, laugh more loudly, enjoy watching movies again, became passionate about cinematic ideas you’d like to create one day.
With Jungkook, you’re also cautiously optimistic.
Because like Taehyung, you feel yourself falling hard and fast for Jungkook. It’s almost scary how truly perfect he is.
“I think you’re just psyching yourself out,” Yoongi tells you, sliding into the chair opposite of you with two cups of coffee in his hands. He smells like freshly-baked cookies. A spot of flour stains his apron as he uses his fifteen-minute break to hang out with you.
“Maybe,” you sigh, gratefully taking the drink he hands you. “What do you think about him?”
“Does my opinion even matter at this point? You’re in love with him,” he drawls before taking a sip of his Iced Americano.
“Of course it does, best friend. Why else would I keep you around?” you remark, taking a sip of your own drink. “Besides the free coffee and cookies. Thank you, by the way.”
He rolls his eyes. The perks of being friends with the cookie boy at your local bakery is a free cup of coffee and getting dibs on leftover treats that didn’t sell the day.
“He’s fine. Kind of annoying. A little too energetic,” he answers as his eyes flit toward the TV screen that his boss keeps on. A woman dressed in bright, business clothing holds a microphone as she reports on the recent news. There’s a grim look on her face.
You have your back turned to it, but you can hear Yoongi’s boss turning up the volume.
Breaking news. Missing woman found dead near home. The victim has succumbed to multiple stab wounds. It is believed that she has been kidnapped and tortured prior to her violent death. The attacker is currently unknown and still at large. Local authorities advise staying indoors and to please report any suspicious activity.
Your heart sinks as you look over your shoulder, seeing police taping off the crime scene and answering what they can to the news outlets. The location is so close to where you are.
“This is the second victim,” a customer mutters with a frown.
The person they’re with nods their head and asks, “Do you think they’re connected?”
“I don’t know. I hope not. We’ll have a serial killer in our hands.”
“Hey,” Yoongi calls your attention. When you look at him, there’s concern on his face. “If you need a ride anywhere, make sure you call me. Doesn’t matter what time.”
“I’ll be okay, Yoongi. Jungkook usually comes to my place anyway.”
“Still. Just let me know that you’re still alive when I check in, all right?” he says as he stares at the screen. You don’t blame him for being worried. As you follow his gaze, you see a picture of the latest victim of the ongoing case that has the whole town on edge.
This woman, like the others, kind of looks like you.
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“If you’re with me, you have nothing to worry about,” Jungkook assures you, throwing a tennis ball as Bam hurriedly chases after it. 
The two of you are at a park with his dobermann. Despite how scary it’s been lately with the news, it’s a nice day. Children are screaming and playing together on the playground as their parents watch them nearby. A group of teenage boys are playing basketball on the outdoor court. Middle-aged and elderly couples are paired up and are getting their daily steps in.
“My hero,” you joke half-heartedly, but you’re still a bit concerned. Yoongi being worried about you makes you feel paranoid.
Jungkook turns to you. He holds out his hand as Bam retrieves the ball and drops it for another throw. “I thought you weren't afraid of anything.”
“Movie-wise, I’m not. But this is different.”
Jungkook throws the slobbery ball again. Further this time as Bam barks happily and takes off. He takes a seat next to you on the park bench. “I can leave Bam with you when I have my evening shifts. He makes a good guard dog.”
He works as an editor and cameraman for a big content creator, which gives him lots of flexible hours to work on his projects when he isn’t busy filming. Since the beginning of autumn, his boss has been giving him evening work to film ghost-hunting videos and other spooky content for Halloween.
“That’ll be nice,” you reply with a small smile. The two of them have been coming to your place so often, it might as well be their second home.
From a short distance, Bam lies on the grass with the tennis ball by his paws. His tongue is out, needing a short break from running around, as he faces you and Jungkook. Even with other dogs and kids around, he’s very well-behaved.
Just as Jungkook tells you that he’ll get Bam, the sound of small, excited barks grab your attention. A familiar black and brown pomeranian approaches you like an old friend, wagging its tail and perking its ears up when it sees you.
Your heart nearly jumps when you recognize the dog.
“Tan!”
You know that voice. How could you not?
That deep, smooth baritone has haunted you for months.
Taehyung, your ex-boyfriend, stops in his tracks when he realizes why his pomeranian took off. The two of you were still together when he adopted Yeontan, and you were there to help raise him when he was still a puppy.
“Who’s this?” Jungkook asks, drawing your attention back to him. He reaches out to pet Yeontan, but the pomeranian growls at him. Almost like he wants to protect you from him.
“Sorry, he’s mine,” Taehyung apologizes, stepping closer to you two and picking his dog up. He looks at you as he tries to soothe the agitated Yeontan in his arms. “It’s been a while. How’ve you been?”
“Good,” you reply politely. Old feelings start to pull on your heart strings that you fervently try to ignore. “I’m good.”
“You look good,” Taehyung starts, but then he purses his lips in regret. It’s obvious that he’s nervous to talk to you. Maybe he feels the same as you.
Softly, you reply, “You do, too.”
“Who’s this?” Jungkook repeats. This time, there’s an annoyed look on his face as he stares at Taehyung. 
It puts you off a bit. Jungkook is usually a friendly guy.
“Oh, this is Taehyung. We used to date,” you tell him honestly. Though, the information seems to just annoy him more. “Taehyung, this is—”
“I’m Jungkook. She’s my girlfriend now.”
His arm snakes around you possessively. He holds a steady gaze, but it’s a look you’ve never seen on him before. Dark, threatening, and angry. It’s almost unnerving.
“I see…” Taehyung trails off as his gaze shifts toward him. Yeontan is still in his arms, growling and barking at Jungkook. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the pup so aggressive toward someone. Even Bam comes over, ditching his ball to guard over you and Jungkook.
“It was nice to see you, Taehyung,” you tell him, sensing the tension in the air and deciding to cut things off. He seems reluctant to leave.
“Yeah…” he continues to trail off, finally pulling his gaze away to look at you. It looks like there’s a million things he wants to say to you. In a lower tone, he tells you, “My number is still the same. If you ever want to talk.”
You frown. After the breakup, you’ve deleted his number and unfollowed him on social media. “Oh, I don’t—”
“Then I’ll call you,” he promises, firm with his decision.
You don’t get it. You and Taehyung have run into each other after the breakup before, and he’s never had an issue with you dating anyone after him. He clearly has moved on, and so have you. 
Why now?
What is it about Jungkook that has him worried for you?
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“I don’t like that guy.”
Jungkook is still heated as he drives you home. His grip is tight around the steering wheel, and the tires screech when he makes a sharp turn. Bam stumbles a bit in the back before sticking his head out the window again.
“Slow down, Kook. You have nothing to be worried about.”
The radio blasts in the car, too much in a rush to connect his playlist to the stereo. It’s playing the week’s top music, and a catchy song from a popular artist fills the car.
Curious, you open your phone and check your followers. You’ve unfollowed Taehyung a long time ago on all your social platforms, finding it hard to look at any of his recent pictures – even just his scenic photography – without thinking about how he had once called you his muse.
But Taehyung never unfollowed you. He had always kept his inbox open for you.
“Did you see the way he was looking at me? It’s like he was looking down on me,” he continues to rant, speeding over a yellow light. He glances over at you and sees that you’re distracted with your phone. “I don’t like how you were looking at him either.”
“Are you serious?” you ask, turning your attention to him. “We barely talked. What the hell are you trying to insinuate?”
On the radio, the program is interrupted. One of the hosts makes a grim announcement.
Ladies and gentlemen, we just received unfortunate news that a third body has been found pertaining to a series of brutal deaths. 
“You still love him! You’ll go back and leave me again!” he suddenly snaps, throwing you off guard.
Silence follows the tension.
Then, you inquire, “Again?”
The third victim is a young female. Hair color and eye color match the previous victims as well, indicating that this might be a targeted attack by the killer.
Not once have you been unfaithful to Jungkook. Even when you were starting to message each other, you weren’t talking to anyone else. The two of you haven’t even been dating that long.
“Forget I said anything,” he starts with a frustrated sigh. But he realizes he’s fucked up.
“No, I’m not just going to forget it. What do you mean by that, Jungkook?”
As of now, authorities have no leads on a suspect. All victims have been kidnapped, tied up, and tortured prior to their deaths. We are led to believe that this is the work of a potential serial killer. 
He nearly slams to a stop. The seatbelt around you yanks you back from hitting the dashboard. Bam falls to the floor and you gasp as the back of your head hits your seat.
Jungkook doesn’t answer you, but for the first time, it feels like the rose-tinted glasses you have on him have fallen off. He’s always been perfect to you: sweet, athletic, talented, and kind. But the Jungkook before you is someone completely different.
This Jungkook scares you.
Stay inside. Lock your doors. Call the police if you see anything suspicious. Be safe out there, folks.
“I told you to forget about it, didn’t I?” he asks through gritted teeth and a harsh look in his eye.
You nod your head, hands trembling a bit as you hold onto your vibrating phone. The screen shows an unknown number trying to contact you.
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“Is there a reason why your boyfriend called me?” Yoongi asks you from the other line. He has you on face-time, awkwardly propping up the camera to show his elbow as he mixes a batch of cookies.
It’s been about a week since you saw Jungkook.
After he dropped you off at home, he wanted to put it all behind him. He kissed you sweetly and murmured apologies for overreacting as his hands slipped under your shirt. But you sent him home before he could convince you to sleep with him. You were still upset about how hostile he was toward Taehyung, his accusations about you, and what his outburst meant.
That hasn’t stopped him from trying to get back to your good graces, though.
The number of missed calls from him keeps increasing by the hour. Ones that you leave unanswered or send straight to your voicemail. 
You don’t want to talk to him.
At your door, you hear him rapping his knuckles against the wooden frame and insistently ringing at your doorbell. From the other side of the door, he begs for a chance to explain. 
You don’t want to see him.
Clearly, after reaching you directly hasn’t worked, he’s starting to contact your friends.
“He’s probably trying to find me,” you tell Yoongi, poking at a bowl of fresh strawberries. You’re still dressed in your pajamas, sitting on a stool by the kitchen counter.
The sound of a small dog can be heard in the background of your line. It dawns on him that you’re not at your place or Jungkook’s.
Yoongi is silent for a moment. Then, he grabs the phone and asks, “What do you mean? Where are you?”
You don’t feel safe in your own home. And that day, while you were in Jungkook’s car, Taehyung called to check up on you. He was always good at reading people, and he warned you that he had a bad vibe about Jungkook.
And you’re starting to see what he meant.
“I didn’t know where else to go.”
When you turn your phone, you reveal Taehyung busy in the kitchen, cutting off the crusts from his sandwiches. He looks over his shoulder and gives a sheepish smile at the scandalized expression on your best friend’s face. “Hey Yoongi.”
“Can you please explain what’s going on? Why are you at your ex’s?”
So, you do. You tell him that Jungkook wouldn’t leave you alone, that you needed some space to cool off but he wouldn’t let you breathe. It was becoming overbearing and overwhelming.
Against your better judgment, you call Taehyung. He invites you to stay over at his place until you’re ready to talk things out with Jungkook. Because even if you’re not together, he still cares about you. Because a part of him will always love you. And at the time, it seemed like a good idea.
“I didn’t want to be alone, especially with a killer targeting women like me out there,” you explain quietly. It feels like the murders have increased in a shorter period of time. If the town wasn’t on edge before, they certainly are now. “But I was still mad at Jungkook, and he was starting to scare me.”
“So the first person you go to is your ex-boyfriend?”
“There’s nothing going on between us.”
That ship has sailed. You know it has when you walked in and saw his engagement pictures hanging on the wall.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“I’m sure he would’ve figured out that I’d be with you,” you tell him with a frown.
“I just wanted to help her, hyung,” Taehyung adds as he stands behind you. “I worry about her too. That guy gives me and Tan a bad feeling.”
Yoongi sighs. “Listen, I don’t think this is a good idea either. You shouldn’t stay with Taehyung. It’ll just make things look a lot worse.”
“I guess you’re right,” you reluctantly agree. Taehyung grimaces, but he can see Yoongi’s point too.
“I’ll pick you up after my shift. You can stay with me until you’re ready to talk to Jungkook,” Yoongi tells you, looking rather serious. “Don’t do anything stupid in the meantime, okay?”
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Hey. It’s Jungkook.
You stare at the message on your phone. Three dots that indicate that he’s typing something, but he keeps erasing and re-typing them again. As if he’s trying to properly convey his words.
Are we breaking up?
You stare at that message even longer. It feels childish to break up with him without trying to talk to him. For the first time in a week, you pick up your phone and type back.
You scared me, Kook.
His response is immediate.
I thought you weren’t scared of anything.
You huff when you realize he’s teasing you, even now.
Movie-wise, I’m not. But this. This is different, Kook. You were really scaring me.
Again, you see the dots appear and disappear before a handful of responses appear.
I know, babe. I’m sorry. Can you please come over? I want to show you something I’ve been working on.
You think about it.
I miss you. Bam misses you too.
Yoongi said not to do anything stupid.
Please, baby. We can just watch a movie, if you want.
But, like in every horror movie, the protagonist finds themselves making a plethora of stupid decisions.
Okay, Kook. I’ll come tonight.
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Movie nights with Jungkook was one of the things you always looked forward to throughout the week. Nothing appealed to you more than a night-in with your boyfriend, food delivered at your door, and checking out new shows and movies.
You have your list of favorites, but nothing quite holds a place in your heart than a good ol’ horror movie. Tellings of urban legends, supernatural forces, paranormal activities, true crime, and slasher films. 
As you step into Jungkook’s house, it almost feels like you’re in one of those movies.
His place is dark, almost pitched black. You could barely see what’s in front of you.
“Come inside,” Jungkook says, grabbing your hand. He pulls you in and deadbolts the door behind you.
“It’s so dark,” you remark, gingerly stepping forward. You have a bad feeling about this. You almost pull back toward the door, thinking of waiting for Yoongi or going back to Taehyung instead.
But Jungkook has a firm grip on you. “I thought you weren’t afraid of anything.”
“This is different, Kook,” you try to reason. “You’re really freaking me out.”
He pulls you further inside. In the living room, nothing but the TV is on. The screen is paused on a homemade film.
This must be the project that Jungkook is talking about.
Everything is set. The living room is clean, a bowl of popcorn and a couple bottles of alcohol sits on the coffee table, the lights are off, and the show is ready to play. He sits you down in the middle and keeps an arm around you.
“You know, when we met, you were exactly what I was looking for,” he starts as he presses play.
The tape shows you. Bam lying on your lap as you affectionately pet his face and kiss the top of his head. You, holding Jungkook’s hand and leading him down a busy sidewalk. You, in the kitchen, trying to swat his hand away as he steals your ingredients. You and Jungkook, peering into the camera lens, and your bashful face as he kisses your cheek. 
A smile tugs on your lips as you watch yourself on the screen. Jungkook leans over, copying his onscreen self and kisses your face.
One thing you liked about filming is seeing things from a different perspective. In this case, seeing yourself through Jungkook’s eyes. You look so happy, so incredibly in love with him.
Like with Taehyung, you fell for Jungkook hard and fast.
But Jungkook fell for you harder and faster.
Your smile fades as the next scene shows.
The camera points to the bed, and a couple walks in. It’s you and Jungkook, stumbling in together after drinks at a bar. You’re laughing and trying to wrap your arms around him as he leads you onto the bed. The kiss you share is messy, heated. You tug off his clothes to feel more of him.
You remember that night, but…
“Jungkook. When did you record this?”
You had no idea he was filming you then.
You don’t realize it then, but he makes eye contact with the camera, as if to check that it’s on. He maneuvers you to get a good angle of your body as you busy yourself with your own clothes, wanting him to touch you more as well.
“Jungkook, stop. I didn’t—” 
You feel so sick to your stomach.
“Don’t cry, baby. Here, I’ll fast-forward.”
But you don’t want to watch anymore. You want to leave. You shouldn’t have come here.
The screen shows you and Yoongi. The two of you are at the bakery he works at, and you’re wearing an old cardigan that you got rid of . You smile and eagerly reach for one of the coffees in his hands and take the bag of cookies he’s holding between his lips. He rolls his eyes at something you say before he takes his first sip of his Iced Americano. It’s a typical hangout between you and him.
It looks like it was taken across the street. Your heart plummets even further when you realize that the old cardigan you’re wearing was a piece of clothing you got rid of before you met Jungkook.
The scene changes. You’re sitting at the fountain at your university, looking over a script you wrote for an assignment. Taehyung comes to take a seat next to you. He greets you with a boxy smile and a kiss. The two of you were still dating at the time.
How long has Jungkook known about you?
How long has he been targeting you?
It’s you and Taehyung again. This time, it was filmed from the other night. When Taehyung came to pick you up from your house. He helps you carry some of your things into his car and hugs you when he sees the distressed look on your face. 
“Jungkook, what the fuck?”
It dawns on you that you don’t really know your boyfriend at all.
You try to stand up, but Jungkook has a firm hold on you. His grip tightens when you try to resist him, and his hand seizes your neck as he pushes you down. Your heart hammers against your ribs when you quickly realize you can’t escape him. Jungkook is much stronger and faster than you are.
More images flash through the screen. It’s Jungkook this time, taking a mirror-selfie of himself dressed in all black. He has his hood up and a Halloween mask covering his face. 
It cuts to his feet walking across the sidewalk. Carefully, the camera tilts up, showing that there’s a woman just ahead of him. She’s about your height, her hair the same as yours. She doesn’t notice him as she listens to music playing in her earbuds. 
The scene cuts again, and the same woman is bound and gagged on a chair. Fear shines through her eyes as a shadow of a knife reflects from her body. Behind the camera, Jungkook demands, “Say your line.”
He removes the gag from her mouth. Her voice pitches in a high shrill as she quickly says, “I-I love you. I won’t leave you.”
You recognize her as the latest victim of the latest killings.
And the realization hits you like a truck. Jungkook and his night shifts, the increasing deaths, his interest in filming, having you as the star.
“I practiced, you know. I’ll get it right this time,” he tells you, pulling out some rope he had hidden behind the cushion. You’re trembling as he wraps them tightly around your wrist. “I’ll make sure you don’t leave me again.”
“You’re so bad,” the Jungkook on the screen says, showing what looks like an abandoned warehouse. It’s dimly lit, but you can hear someone running from him. But he doesn’t seem worried, his heavy footsteps casually echo across the concrete. In his hand is a sharp and bloody knife. Mockingly, he asks, “Where did you think you’d go?”
The victim has been let go, but she isn’t free. Ahead, she finds herself cornered as Jungkook catches up to her. Terrified, she holds her hands out in front of her, as if that would stop him.
It’s like seeing your own fate on the screen.
The woman begs and screams before her blood splatters across the floor. You find yourself quoting her, staring up at his darkened eyes. “No, please. Don’t hurt me.”
“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks, staring right at you. His mouth twitches, fighting a smile. “I thought you liked horror movies.”
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Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reviews are greatly appreciated!
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captainfern · 7 months
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Dbf!price x reader where he drunk dials her for a lil late night booty call so she sneaks him into the house while her fathers asleep and they’re trying to keep quiet but readers havin a hard time? 🫢😳
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Marigold - The End
dbf!Captain John Price x fem!reader
[“Marigold” by Nirvana]
[18+]
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• summary - a slightly drunken, late-night meeting ends in some very sober words lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 2.2k • warnings - fem!reader, dad’sbestfriend!price, established relationship?, age gap [whatever you want it to be as long as it's legal lmao], unprotected piv, light fingering, praise, fluff, strong language
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You woke up with a start, your phone on your nightstand vibrating loudly into the darkness of your room. You reached over and snatched it, squinting through blurry eyes, the little time at the top reading just after one in the morning.
Price's name lit up the screen, and you answered the call, swallowing to try and eliminate the early-morning dryness.
"Price?" You whispered into the phone.
"Hi, my pretty girl. Did I wake you?"
"Obviously," you joke, rubbing at your face with your free hand. "It's one in the morning."
"Aw, m'sorry, sweetheart. S'just... s'just I missed you." He drawled through the phone, and you frowned lightly as you listened to him.
"Are you drunk?" You asked, and you could hear faintly that he was walking, possibly outside, along the pavement somewhere.
Price laughed, and the sound, like usual, made your stomach flutter. "M'not drunk, love. Only had a bit."
"How much is a bit?"
"Hmm... about a pint and a half."
You rolled your eyes. "Liar."
"M'not lying, sweetheart," he said, and then he went silent for a moment. You heard him walking again, the light whoosh of a breeze hitting the phones speaker. Then: "Be a doll and open the door for me, hm?"
You sat up in bed, the sleep knocked from your body. "You're here?"
You heard him knock on hardwood through the phone and across the house, you heard the same faint knocking just a millisecond in front. Your eyes widened and you jumped out of bed, pulling your door open as quietly as you could.
"Don't knock!" You whispered into the phone as you crept down the stairs through the dark. "You'll wake up my dad!"
Price just chuckled as you hung up and approached the door, slowly unlocking it and turning the door handle, cringing slightly as it made a louder than normal click echo through the entrance hall. Price, in all his glory, stood on the front step, and was pocketing his phone at the same time he surged towards you, ducking his head to kiss you.
You pushed him away as his lips brushed yours, turning your head to the side. "Price!" You stepped around him to quietly close and lock the door again, and he came up behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and bending to press kisses down your exposed neck.
"What're you doing here?" You asked, hands still on the door as Price pressed hot kisses along your shoulder, bare from where your t-shirt fell to the side.
"Missed you..." He whispered against your skin, raising goosebumps. "Missed my pretty girl."
Your stomach twisted. Your core throbbed.
"I– fuck– I saw you three days ago," you told him, dropping your head to the side to give him better access. "Don't you remember?"
He chuckled lowly against your shoulder, skimming his teeth near the neckline of your t-shirt. "Oh, I remember. How could I forget, hm? How could I forget how pretty you are when you come, n' how fucking good you taste on my tongue."
"Price..." You whine, the memories of you and him in his living room three days ago making you hot.
His hands squeezed at your sides, dragging you back into him, gently grinding your backside against his front. He sucked a kiss to the curve of your neck as his cock grew hard against your arse, making you chew on your lip to stop yourself from moaning out loud.
When you felt one of his hands skim over your navel and dip towards the waistband of your pyjama shorts, you whimpered. "Price, you're drunk."
"I’m sober as a judge, sweetheart."
His fingers dripped past the waistband, just skimming the soft skin of your lower belly. You bit your lip again, body hot, a heartbeat between your legs.
"You s-said you had a pint and a half."
"S'not enough to get me pissed." Price laughed, trailing his nose up your neck until he could nip at your earlobe, continuing to grind your arse back onto his cock, painfully hard in his jeans.
"Classy." You rolled your eyes, and Price's hand finally moved over your mound and down to your cunt, where he dragged two fingers through your slick folds. He groaned into your neck, and you shushed him, your hands still flat against the door.
"Besides, I walked from the pub. Fresh air always sobers me up." He said, stroking his fingers gently, almost too gently, between your folds, making you arch against him.
You gasped, both from the feeling of his fingers and Price's words. "That's a three mile walk, and at one in the morning! You did that for me?"
"Yes ma’am,” Price uttered, sucking a kiss just below your ear as he began circling two of his fingers around your wet hole, feeling the way you clenched around nothing. "And I'd do it again... Hell, I'd walk a lot further if it meant I could see you."
You whimpered when he pushed his two fingers inside you, and he groaned into your neck. It sounded loud in your ear, and it was enough to make you suddenly self-aware.
"My dad's asleep," you whispered urgently as Price buried his fingers to the knuckle, then proceeded to curl them against your slick walls. Your knees almost buckled, but he was holding you firmly against your body. "P-Price, we need to be quiet."
"I know, baby, I know," he placed a kiss to your cheek before extracting his fingers from your shorts. You turned to look at him, legs shaky, as he sucked his fingers into his mouth, his eyelids fluttering as he tasted you. He groaned, and you gave him a look. Shut it. He smiled, then dropped his fingers from his mouth. "You wanna go upstairs?"
•º•
Price deducted that the bed creaked too much with a lot of movement– something he had picked up over the last, well, several times you and him had been moving on it.
So, the fluffy rug at the foot of your bed was deemed the next best option.
Price wasn't as methodical as he usually was– he didn't make you come once, or maybe twice on his tongue like he liked too. He didn't even make you come around his fingers to prepare you for him. This time, he pumped two fingers inside you for a few long moments and, when a glimmer of your orgasm appeared in the base of your tummy, he was pulling away, and you were almost sad.
But the feeling didn't last long. Not when he was so desperate to have you: he yanked your pyjama shorts down your legs, tossing them to the side. He pulled his jeans down, just enough to free his achingly hard cock– the head red and leaking pre-cum, one of the veins down the side was prominent against the paler skin.
Then, he was pushing into you so hard that a moan was ripped out of your chest, but Price caught it with his mouth. He kissed you as hard as he fucked you: each probe of his tongue, each nip of his teeth matched each deep thrust against your cervix, each slap of his pelvis against yours.
You arched against him, hearts hammering together. He gripped your hips, squeezing tightly as he pulled you back onto him. His cock stretched you open, a delicious burn that had you mewling into his mouth as he had inched in; but now, the burn had subsided, leaving way for nothing but absolute pleasure as he fucked you against your rug.
When he wasn't kissing your mouth, he was kissing the rest of your body. The skin he could reach, anyway. Price sucked and licked kisses down your jaw, your neck, your shoulder, your collarbones. His breathing was ragged against your skin, and you felt sticky, unsure if the cause was your sweat or his spit.
His cock hit you deep, abusing the plug of your womb in a way that had your thighs shaking. Burning, molten pleasure built in the base of your tummy, tingling the very bottom of your spine, making you gasp and whine and whimper out for him, for all but him and the darkness to hear: Price, Price, John.
You were too loud. You knew that, but you couldn't find your off switch– Price had rewired your brain, and now all you could think about was him. You could smell him, too– sandalwood and pine and everything you noticed the very first day you met him. You could smell expensive cigar smoke, rich and bitter, as well as cheap beer, a lingering smell of hops. God, you loved it.
You loved him.
Price placed a hand to your mouth. He knew you were almost too loud. He could feel your cute little whimpers and whines against his palm, and it made his thrusts deepen, rolling his hips against you and using one hand to keep your hips steady.
You were so fucking wet, he could feel it and, fuck, he could hear it. Such a sloppy cunt, so fucking needy for his cock, always sucking him in so well. And your body, constantly reacting to the smallest touches of his, always wanting him. You smelt good, too– sweet, expensive, seductive. But his favourite part about you, although hard to choose, was your face– you looked absolutely regal, so fucking beautiful, so beautiful taking his cock. His pretty girl.
He loved his pretty girl.
"God, fuck, fuck–" He cursed in a low grunt. "So pretty, baby. You look so fucking pretty when you take my cock."
You whined against his hand, his cock slamming into that spot inside you that had you seeing stars in the hazy darkness; more stars then there were outside your window.
Your puffy clit, so far neglected in you and Price's hastily spurred rendezvous, buzzed with your oncoming orgasm, your cunt squeezing Price's cock like a vice. Loud, wet clicks sounded throughout your quiet room, your arousal slick against your inner thighs. The sounds made you moan, muffled by Price's large palm.
Your body was on fire, your heart was on fire. Tears slipped from your waterline as your orgasm neared, your entire body shaking against his. The fluffy carpet beneath you was suddenly burning your flesh, sweat accumulating on your lower back as you arched further and further against him, mewling and whining for him, him, him.
Somehow– you don't really know how– you managed to get his hand to leave your mouth, just enough for you to say: "I love you" as you came.
You'd confessed your love to him before, obviously. But something about tonight was different.
The way he fucked you, so full of raw want and animalistic possession had your brain in a spin, and your violent orgasm was testiment to that.
You came around his cock in a gush of arousal, dripping out and around his cock as he continued to fuck you through it. Droplets dribbled down the curve of your arse, and you didn't even want to think about the cleaning job for your rug in the morning.
You clawed at his back, pulling him impossibly closer, mouthing at the junction of his neck before you were pulling back and whimpering "John" into the darkness of your room.
"I love you too, my pretty girl," he whispered, kissing you. "I love you so fucking much. My pretty girl, my good girl. I love you–"
He stifled his groan in your mouth as he came, his tongue pressed hot to yours. His hips stilled, pelvis flush with yours as he came and filled you, stuffed you full. His release was warm, your tummy tightening as the sensation kicked some kind of fucking hormone into action inside your body, making your diaphragm flush heavy with heat. You felt as though you were glowing.
Price panted into your mouth, before slowly, begrudgingly, pulling out of you. He was quick to slip your pyjama shorts back up your legs and keep as much of his cum inside you as possible. Then, in a comfortable silence, he stripped down to his boxers, tucking his softening cock back in. He then gently guided you to your bed and tucked you beneath the covers, slipping in alongside you.
He placed a kiss to your forehead, and the two of you lay in each others arms for a long time.
"I love you." He whispered.
"I love you too." You whispered back.
More silence followed. A comfortable, warm silence that had your heart feeling full. He nuzzled his nose into the top of your head, kissing you there. His arms around you pulled you closer, tucking you against him, his chest to your back. He slipped his hands beneath your shirt and rested them across your tummy.
"Sweetheart?"
"Hm?" You blinked back at him lazily.
"I'm so glad I have you." He said, and you couldn't help but want to cry.
You smiled. "I'm glad I have you, too."
He kissed the top of your head.
Then:
"Sweetheart?"
"Yeah?"
He hugged you closer, if that was even possible.
"I'm going to marry you one day."
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the end lol x
1K notes · View notes
eyelessfaces · 2 months
Text
about time we found each other again.
leto atreides x reader
summary: even years after your wedding got called off, leto is not sure he truly really got over you.
warnings: implied cheating (I am so sorry lady jessica I love you), death of a parent, angst, probably inaccurate dune lore stuff my most sincere apologies I did my best
tags: f!reader, arranged marriage, first love, love confessions, estrangement, time jump where the second part takes place a few years before the first movie (this doesn't matter at all tbh)
word count: 2.1k
this is my first time writing for leto so I hope he's alright lol<3
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When you came to meet Leto Atreides for the first time, it was instantaneous; maybe you couldn't rightfully affirm it with conviction yet, but some deep part of you immediately knew that you desired him to be the one by your side for the rest of time. 
He had been the only other person around your age when you and your family attended a special meeting on Caladan, and you could very well feel your heart beat faster and your cheeks burn hot at each of his furtive glance thrown your way and each slight smirk over either of your faces when your gaze met his. 
Maybe leaving your home land and being sent to eventually move to Caladan wouldn’t be as bad as you had thought, after all.
And it wasn't. You quickly, borderline scarily quickly fell in love with Leto, you were sure of it by now. His manners were those of a man of respect, and he was kind and compassionate, he didn’t have the over excessive pride you would expect from a destined duke.
And ultimately, you grew to also be almost pretty sure that he felt the same way towards you, from the way he listened to you with no feigned interest whenever you shared stories with him, from the way his warm brown eyes so gently looked over at you, from the way he always made sure you were treated right.
You remembered it to be a warm evening when he officially confessed his love to you. 
You had been walking mindlessly through seemingly never ending fields, talking about anything and everything for what felt like a lifetime, eventually stopping to lay down and watch the sun set. 
Leto had settled on gently putting flowers in your hair while you told him about your childhood on your home land, smiling radiantly as he admired you lovingly, brushing your cheek with the back of his hand before he leaned in to kiss you. 
Your own hand was quick to find his dark curls neatly slicked back as he hovered over you, the tip of his fingers delicately tracing your face and neck before he pulled away from your lips when it became absolutely necessary. 
From there, the sunset and everything else became insignificant, everything could be crumbling around you and you wouldn’t pay it any mind; nothing mattered, not when Leto promised to love you until his very last breath here in the middle of nowhere. 
So when you eventually had your parents visit you on Caladan and announce to you that you had been sent there for them to agree with the Atreides upon arranging a marriage with Leto, you couldn’t be happier and it couldn’t be more convenient; you would have chosen him anyway, if given the choice.
Leto had the competence of making everything seem so easy, and he turned out to be quick to ease your worries about your upcoming future as a duchess.
Even under the looming political pressure of your marriage, this wedding meant a starting point for the rest of your life, a part you could not wait to share with him, even if it meant a lot of responsibilities and changes.
Then so suddenly, all at once, it all fell apart, everything. 
It was late in the night when you and Leto were laughing and dancing, rehearsing for the forthcoming wedding. Servants had knocked onto your shared room door, and Leto’s hand left your waist as he scurried away to answer the door, opening and making way for them to enter the room. 
They came in with a polite nod, one of them unrolling a parchment letter, reading out loud to the both of you.
The letter was from your father, announcing the news that your mother had died while on a mission, resulting in the need of your presence at your home land to take over her legacy and responsibilities for a while.
You didn’t understand what it involved right away, maybe from the shock of the sudden, dreadful news, the loss of your mother too hard to swallow.
You didn’t understand that it meant that you and Leto were bound to be no more, that either of you were now assigned to different fates and responsibilities, that the marriage was therefore called off for the moment being.
And you quite certainly didn't realize that the night you spent tossing and turning around your shared bed with eyes wide open until the sunrise was the last night by his side, that the morning you left was the last time you would see him.
Until years later, what felt like a lifetime.
When you came back to Caladan for political and business reasons, it was only because of the absolute necessity of your presence, otherwise you wouldn't have shown up.
Finding him again after so long drowned you right back again in the same hollow feeling you endured the moment you were drawn apart years ago, and while you mirrored his polite nod and smirk, you couldn't help but still feel the pain of being estranged so brutally, of seeing him again after so many years.
He was wearing the slowly appearing gray streaks of hair beautifully, and the beard suited him like he was made for it; it made his handsome face look a bit more harsh and severe, but he was a duke now, after all.
You lightly cleared your throat as you made your way to leave the meeting once it was over, troubled as you could feel the weight of his gaze burning holes through you all along. You could feel your heart pound through your ribcage the exact same way it used to when he held you when you were younger, and you ultimately came to the rotten conclusion that your stay here in his presence would be a tough, challenging time for you, and that dwelling on the past had been a bad idea, exactly like you had anticipated it to be. 
It was wonderful out there, just like you had remembered it to be. The view from the balcony offered you an endless panorama over Caladan and its lush lands, and while you loved your home land with your whole being, you couldn’t deny missing living on Caladan.
The fresh breeze of the night was nothing but pleasant, and even though you were slowly starting to feel goosebump growing over your skin, you figured the view of the sun starting to set was more important.
“I thought I could stay focused while in your presence.” you recognize his voice all too well, and you wonder if the shiver running down your spine is caused by his sudden apparition or the wind hitting you. “I was deeply wrong”
“Leto,” you chuckle sheepishly, blushing as you turn around and face him.
A bittersweet smile has quirked upon his face, and he steps further and approaches you. The years have been unkind to him, lines of wisdom and experience growing upon his face transforming him into a man hardened by duty. Yet, beneath the rough facade, you can still see the eyes and soul of the man you once knew and loved.
“Why only now?” he asks, a certain helplessness painted across his face.
“What?”
He sighs as he looks away, licks his lips as he walks besides you and grips the barrier of the balcony with both hands. You only hear the wind as you watch and wait for him to do, to say something.
“This should have been yours. All of this” he mutters, gaze fixed on the sight before him. The clouds look like cotton ripped apart and spread through the wide sky, and the sun setting over Caladan turns them into an abnormal color, one you wouldn't even be able to define. “I waited for you.” Leto declares, head turning to look back at you like he is trying to figure out how you feel or waiting for you to say something.
Your eyes close as a small exhale leaves your mouth. “Why should it matter now, Leto” you scoff, turning away to try to escape his gaze, heavier than you remember.
“It has always mattered” he declares, following your steps as you try to inch away from him. He calls your name in a weak plea, his hand coming to rest over your arm. “Look at me. Please”
You do. You turn back to him, and he looks at you like you will be slipping away from him any moment now, like you're just a ghost, like you're water in his bare hands. “Tell me you did not think of me all those years and I'll leave you alone.” he whispers feebly, face close to yours as he still holds onto your arm, and you can feel your breaths mingling from how close he is to you.
His unwavering gaze is locked on yours, desperately waiting for you to say something. Eventually, your lack of response speaks for itself, and he nods slightly. “That's what I thought.”
“Leto.”
His hands come to cup your face, holding it steady as with a sigh, his forehead rests against yours. Your eyelids fall shut under the weight of it all and you exhale softly, your hand wrapping around his wrist, stroking along his forearm.
“I have loved you since I met you. I should have found you and married you regardless.” he mutters, barely louder than a whisper. His declaration makes something flutter deep in your core, and you grimace like his words feel sour to hear. You should have done it differently, should have come back to Caladan after everything went back to normal after your mother's death.
“And your wife?” you rhetorically ask, with a dubious scoff.
“She's not– we never married.” he shakes his head, pulling away from your forehead to look back at you, your hand falling to your side again when you let go of his arm. His gaze and the way his eyebrows are angled weakly are conveying everything you need to know, confirming every conclusion you made. 
Your lips part slightly, some part of you refusing to believe in what he's indirectly telling you, refusing to believe that he gave up on some part of his life waiting for you.
“We were promised a marriage together, a life together” he continues, taking hold of your hand, fingers lacing with yours tentatively. “I always hoped you would come back and we would resume our life together where it stopped.”
“Now still?” you weakly ask, equally pained and somehow flattered that he never really got over you.
Again, the lack of answer and his previous actions prove the point, and you hold his hand tighter when you swallow with difficulty. Your other hand slightly trembles when you reach to touch his face, settling to rest at his bearded cheek, and you smile weakly as you trace the lines that you never got to witness appear. 
“We were so young” you smile, drawing one out of him. The corners of his lips turn upwards as his hand covers your own over his face, pulling it to bring it to his mouth to kiss your knuckles softly, the feeling of his warm breath over your skin taking you years back.
“Don't go back.” he begs against your hand, his voice wavering a little. There’s a glint in his eyes as his gaze darts up at you that makes it impossible for you to consider refusing and giving up on him again. “You belong here.”
Your eyebrows knit in uncertainty as you tear your gaze away from him, looking at the endless view again. You can't help but overthink every consequence coming back to Caladan is going to involve, for you as much as for Leto, and especially for his own concubine that is at this point already long forgotten by him.
This is unfair, but some part of you acknowledges your younger selves feelings and remembers how devastated you were to leave him; leaving again while knowing that he still cares after so many years and regrets not marrying you may hurt even more.
“This will make people talk, Leto.” you wince, looking back at him.
He shakes his head carefreely. “Let them.” he affirms with a dismissive scoff as his hands settle over your hips. You grin softly as he pulls you closer, and a soft exhale leaves your mouth when your arms wrap around his neck.
He takes a while to admire your face, how it has changed despite still remaining the one of the woman he fell in love with long ago.
When he kisses you, it is the exact same way he used to when you were young.
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ciy0 · 4 months
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☆*:.。.FANCALL.。.:*☆
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Summary - Like many idols Mingyu dreaded fancalls, well that was until you were on the other side.
Word Count - 2.7k
Content Warnings - 18+ Slight Sexual Language [2 be safe], Fluff, Shy/Cute! Y/n, Love At First Sight?, Sneaky! Mingyu, The Sparks Are Flying, Mingyu thinks Y/n is Adorable, Slight Innapropriate Dynamic with Fan & Idol, NDA Mentioned, Short Hair!Mingyu Appreciation, Hoshi Cameo, Mingyu gets Bricked Up lol, Shameless Flirting
a/n - this is the least dark thing i’ve written so far and it still got a lil something something but it’s very cute and short hair mingyu is indeed my favorite
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☆*:.。. .。.:*☆
Mingyu believed he had the coolest job in the world. Honestly, being able to make music with his twelve best friends and travel the world was something out of a storybook. And his mother ingrained in him from a young age to always be grateful for the wonderful opportunities presented to him throughout his life. But with all the positives that came with being a successful and attractive idol there were many negatives that he tried his best to take in stride. Stalkers, calls from saesangs all throughout the night, rude staff, endless schedules, extreme diets and that was just to name a few. But one took the cake out of all of them—fancalls.
Don’t get him wrong, he loved meeting carats more than anything in the world; accepting their sweet comments while trying to make their experience worth while in the short time allotted. Most were so kind, humorous and creative, it was always so fascinating getting to see how many different types of people Seventeen’s music reached even after all this time. But just like the duality of life there were fancalls that went so horribly it unfortunately made him dread doing them at all. Whether it went from brazen fans demanding him to strip, asking him uncomfortable questions, to hurling insults at him for not remembering them from a fan meet over 3 years ago. It really could be so draining, not knowing what type of person would be on the other side of the call but he had to do it—and with a smile.
“Bye~ love youuu,” He waved as he ended the facetime with a fan from Australia. It wasn’t one of the worst ones but the constant ‘Oppa Will you marry me please?’ question was starting to get on his nerves, the forced cute tone just making it worse. Expertly he kept swerving around the question but she was quite persistent. The timer for the call was his saving grace as he threw his head back in a deep groan no longer having to deal with the irritating fan. ‘Just one more’ he thought. One more then he could call it a night and go to sleep. He took a deep breathe just in time to prepare himself to greet the next fan.
“Hello-“ He tilted to look back down at the phone screen to check the name and—Oh? Well for starters what a pretty thing you were. “Hello…Y/n?” Voice raising at the end, checking his pronunciation.
You smiled brightly at him trying to hide the little squeak you made before nodding and greeting him back enthusiastically, “Oh my gosh, Mingyu hi!”
Many fans somehow found ways to constantly win the fancalls or fanmeets but he was confident that he’d never seen you at even a concert. With a face like that even with his bad memory he’d be sure to remember. Your face already enough to give him the boost of energy he so desperately needed.
He found himself reflecting your sweet smile at your excitement, “Is this your first fancall?”
You bit your lip softly before nodding, “Y-yeah, I’m sorry i’m just so overwhelmed right now. I’ve been a fan for so many years.” You expressed earnestly.
He couldn’t stop his tongue from lightly grazing against the bottom of his canines as he watched your plush lips. “Yeah?,” He gazed back up at your eyes, “ I’m honored, thank you for your continuous love and support…Who’s your favorite?” He asked cheekily.
You laughed in your hand at that, “You of course.” you lowered your hand as you felt a bit more comfortable to express yourself, remembering the short time for the calls despite all you wanted to say, “I had always been into kpop but Seventeen was always the most special group to me. Your music reminds me of youth and freedom and the love you all have for each other warms my heart. Watching you guys grow and flourish literally is my pick me up in life. I ended up falling for your charms seeing you take care of your members, i love your big heart! I was lucky enough to win this fancall so I just wanted to say this all from the bottom of my heart. Also your short hair is beautiful!” You ended passionately hoping you properly conveyed your emotions. You had been practicing this for over a week.
He couldn’t help the dazed smile that took over his features. Your words technically weren’t anything new. He had heard some variation in the hundreds of calls up to this point but something about yours was just different. The back of his neck slowly warming at the thought of little ole you watching over Seventeen (him) this whole time.
He thanked you sincerely again as he sneakily snuck his hand across the table to turn off the impending timer—he wanted more time with you. Hopefully you couldn’t see the little imaginary devil horns adorning his head at his little scheme.
“ Where do you live?” He asked pointedly. He watched your brows slightly raise at the sudden inquiry,” Your window—,” He pointed behind you,” It looks about the same time of day as it is for me… are you close by Korea?”
He knew at this point things were slowly heading down a road that was hardly appropriate to engage in with a sweet little fan like yourself but he felt the risk was worth. It wasn’t everyday he got to meet a girl as enthralling as you. I mean how could he not, those beautiful eyes taking him in like that, your sincere words and admiration—he may be an idol but he was still just a man at the end of the day. A weak man.
“O-oh” You looked back at your window before turning around, “Well right now, I’m actually in Korea—like as we speak. I’m here for work. I think it’s been about two weeks already…”
Korea you say? The next words slipped out before he could even catch himself, too busy examining your features. “Modeling?” As if it was a no-brainer.
You threw your head back in laughter at that but he didn’t get what was so funny. Seeing that he was expectantly waiting for an answer you wiped your stray tear and responded.
“No, no model over here but i’m working on a TV production set for a company is Seoul”
Oh? You’re in Seoul too. He’s in Seoul…and he doesn’t believe in coincidences. Don’t you think—things are aligning too perfectly?
“Such a stunning face like that behind the camera,” He whines playfully, “It’s a crime!”
His face lights up at your bashful giggle at his compliment, it made him feel on top of the world. Even though this was your fancall he just needed to know more, and flatter you more, hoping you wouldn’t catch on that the timer would’ve gone off minutes ago. Afraid that piece of information would scare you off.
“Your boyfriend back home must be missing you right now then, “ he continued shamelessly, eyes hanging low waiting for your reply.
Your eyes shifted feeling a little hot under his unwavering gaze, “It’s okay, I d-don’t have one anyways” You twiddled your thumbs.
“Yeah? You don’t need one anyways though, right? Cause I’m your favorite, “ He jokingly stated.
It took you a beat before you caught the teasing joke, not confirming nor denying. Mingyu often playfully teasing fans for looking at other men wasn’t anything new. But in those videos he’d be sporting his signature pout but right now he was completely fixated on you, mouth slightly ajar in wonder. You felt your chest get hot briefly feeling so small in the presence of a cunning wolf. You reflexively went to check the time on your phone—
“Right, Y/n?” Your breathe caught hearing your name come from his lips for the second time that day. You forgot your name was even displayed on the screen let alone expecting to hear it again, especially like that.
Mingyu wanted an answer, and he wanted you to stop checking the time on your damn phone. His eyes like a puppy’s reading “pay attention to me”.
“Of course Mingyu,” you conceded demurely, forgetting your train of thought. “You’re the golden standard honestly. There’s a inside joke amongst Carats that God made you as an apology for men haha and i can’t help but think there must be some truth to that” You said matter of factly knowing how much he loved when fans stroked his ego and just how true it was. The handsome smile you received from that was damn near blinding but as a fan it was a dream to make your idol happy and tell him the truths about himself that he deserved to hear. He was handsome, kind, talented and all of the above.
You were so cute—fuck. He had been privy to that little joke a couple months back, constantly being heralded for all his green flags he had as a potential boyfriend or husband but he couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty at hearing them from you. Because he knew he was failing miserably at stopping the nasty thoughts of him doing naughty things to the beautiful Carat he had the pleasure of meeting at that moment.
“Earlier” He started softling shaking his head out of those images,” You said you liked my short hair— which one do you like most? If you had to choose, Long or short?” He didn’t want to come off sleazy with the constant flirting and possibly make you uncomfortable so he went back to earlier in the conversation to lighten the tension. Maybe it’d help with tightness currently in his sweatpants.
He expected you to struggle before ultimately landing on long hair like everyone else would answer but your quick and confident reply of “Short” caught him off guard.
He ran a hand through his cut locks subconsciously. You were the first to say that. He liked his short hair too but it seemed like most of fans didn’t and made sure to let him know. He knew they didn’t mean harm by it but your heartfelt validation made his ears redden against his tan skin.
“Really?” His eyebrows raised before grinning childishly, “You’re not just saying that?”
You mirrored his grin, “Your long hair fits you very well but short really is my favorite. Hmm,” You tapped your chin in thought, “ You look more pretty and soft with long hair but God you look so manly and sexy with it short like a firefighter. And with your big arms and-”
You glanced back down absentmindedly just to see his shocked expression before covering your face up in embarrassment. You did not mean to say all of that out loud, worried you might’ve made him uncomfortable with your involuntary tangent.
“And?” He leaned forward head in hands tilted teasingly, “Big arms and what Y/n?”
You peeked through your fingers, “Well you know, y-you take good care of yourself and it shows.” You promptly closed your fingers again.
He chuckled at your cute antics, heart squeezing painfully, wishing he was there to pry your hands from your pretty face and get all up in your bubble.
“So you like manly looking men huh?, “ He leans back naturally spreading his legs under the table—though you couldn’t see, “I’ll keep that in mind.” For some reason when you talked about his body like that it didn’t make him feel awkward or objectified like in the past with other fans. Quite the opposite, it excited him. Were you thinking dirty thoughts about him too? God he wanted to hear them.
A ring from your side of the call rung out causing you to curse lightly before looking at him again, previous shyness leaving. You ordered food almost 20 minutes ago?! You hadn’t realized the time flew so fast talking to Mingyu. But why didn’t the timer go off? Before you could question him the restless delivery driver banged on your door.
“Mingyu it was so nice finally meeting you,” You started to get up, your smooth thigh coming into focus causing him to bite his lip and discreetly shift his leg to hide his erection, “My foods at the door so I have to go-“
“No don’t goooo,” he pouted ,” I’ll wait right here so go and quickly bring it back yeah?” He gave you his best pleading eyes, he didn’t want the call to end, at least not yet.
You pulled down your lounging dress slightly before nodding and swiftly heading off the screen, a slight “coming!” heard in the background.
He tapped away on his phone patiently waiting for you to return until he heard a knock on his door. Turning back he saw Hoshi’s head pop out.
“Bro you’re still not done?” Hoshi glanced around the room, “Everyone’s heading home soon, you need to wrap it up before management notices”
Mingyu held his hands in a begging motion, “Hyung distract them for a bit, please i’ll be quick” he pleaded.
Hoshi raised an eyebrow in question but left with a huff of ‘you owe me’ before closing the door. With a ‘hehe’ Mingyu turned around just in time for you to settle back down with your takeout in hand.
“Ooo whatd you get Y/n?” He really liked the way your name sounded on his lips.
You looked up at the sound of your name again and smiled as you took out the containers, “I got some Tteokkbokki, dumplings, kimchi of course and look,” you held up your last dish, “ The place by my apartment makes a salmon katsudon and its-“ You moan dramatically just at the thought (causing him to flinch in his pants),” It’s to die for.”
“Wahh that looks so good…” he trailed off watching your cheeks chub as you were already digging into your food, he just wanted to reach over and pinch them. You barely even noticed as he watched you quietly cause you were in your own world, obviously underestimating how hungry you were. Once you realized you were quite literally stuffing your face in front of Mingyu you haphazardly swallowed what was left in your mouth ready to apologize but when you looked up he was just gazing at you fondly.
“Is there something on my face?” You wondered out loud, putting your container down.
“You just look so cute enjoying your food. I’ll have to try that place soon” He tugged on his ear nervously, “ Hey Y/n?”
You looked back at him with wide eyes,” Hmm?”
“I really have to go soon,” He began, eyes slightly saddening at that fact,” But Seventeen is having a fan meet in Seoul next week…. If i send you some tickets through your company would you come?” He would’ve liked to give them to you personally but that might be a little to forward for now.
Your mouth dropped at that, never thinking such an outcome would come from this fancall. Really all you wanted was to convey your appreciation to the group. You nodded dumbly before giving him your companies details upon his request still slightly lost that this was all happening.
He was elated you accepted making sure to store that information safely so he could send the tickets later. “I really hope to see you then Y/n-“ he heard footsteps getting close to his room signally him he really had to let go of you for now, “I’ve taken too much of your time, enjoy your food and-“
He hesitated ending the call as he always did. Normally an easy ‘love you~’ was his go-to but for some reason it felt so intimate relaying it to you. “Thank you for loving seventeen and… I love you~” He blew a kiss, his eyes never straying from yours despite the heat in his cheeks.
You gasped quietly at his ending words. You knew he always told his fans that but right then you didn’t feel like he was telling you that as just an idol to supporter.
“Love you too Mingyu, take care of yourself Okay?”
The steps were getting louder so he initiated his melancholic goodbye before you reciprocated with a breathless one of your own; ultimately ending the call.
Just in time he got up as a staff member entered the room. Acting none the wiser Mingyu moved passed them with a bow saying he was heading home before any questions could be asked. He really needed to take care of his problem downstairs anyways.
While in the car on the way home he sent a message to his manager and gave your workplaces information to send some tickets for you and your coworkers, not to draw any unnecessary attention to you specifically . His manager didn’t question the sudden gift exchange which he was thankful for, only asking if there was anything else needed. Mingyu typed out a ‘nope hyung thanks’ in return until he envisioned that gorgeous smile of yours but this time it was within arms reach.
‘Hyung, can you get an NDA ready by next week too?’
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NDA - non disclosure agreement, can be used for various things but in this case many celebrities have the people they keep close to them or want to start a relationship with sign one to protect their privacy pls comment it inspires me (°▽°)
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darkbluekies · 8 months
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Now that you mentioned drunk Silas, I would like to know what would happen if he came home drunk, lol
And I really like your work
Like literally to die for
Drunk off of you
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mafia!yandere OC x fem!reader
Summary: Silas comes home drunk and has a need for you
Warnings: nsfw, possessive behavior
Word count: 0.8k
A/N: my very first sexual scene that I managed to complete!! I really liked it but I'm very nervous to show it so don't be surprised if I become a coward and take it down later</3
Silas fumbles through the door late at night. He grunts sluggishly. You wake up when he accidentally drops his keys on the floor. Quickly, you sit up and look at his dark shadow. 
“Oh, sorry”, he mumbles drunkenly. “Didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“Where have you been?” you ask quietly. 
“Nowhere, don’t worry about it, darling.” 
You know better than to ask questions about his whereabouts. You should consider yourself lucky that he isn’t covered in blood as usual.
He drags himself over to the bed and lies on top of your legs, hugging them. Silas presses his cheek against your knees while sighing out. By the way his fingertips dig into the covers, you can already tell just what type of drunk he is tonight. 
“Touch me”, he mumbles with his eyes closed. “Run your fingers through my hair.”
You listen. Carefully, you touch his black strands and let your fingers massage his scalp. Silas breathes out and relaxes. He snuggles closer to your legs and smile. 
“I love you”, he whispers. 
You can’t bring yourself to say it back. Telling a mafia leader that you love him will lock you into a prison you will never get out of, you know that. Better to keep those words to yourself … for now. Instead, you touch his hair again, which seem to be the only answer he needs. Silas opens his dark eyes and looks up at your face. The lustful sparkle makes you gulp. You damn the butterflies that hatch in your stomach. 
“I want you”, he says calmly, surely. “I want to feel you.”
You don’t answer. If you do, you’ll start to babble. Silas lifts himself up and crawls closer to you, until you can feel his whiskey-filled breath on your face. He glances down at your lips before meeting your eyes. The way his black eyes burn with lust intrigue you. 
“Will you let me?” he asks softly. 
You nod. Silas doesn’t waste a second before pressing his lips to yours. He breathes in your air until your lungs burn. His tongue corrupts your mouth with a taste of expensive whiskey. You can feel his fingers dig into the side of your throat and jaw. He wants you closer.
Silas’s every movement is careful — as careful as a wasted person can manage. Your bare body press against his much warmer. Silas wraps his muscular arms around your waist, holding you close. He wants you pressed up against him — be one with him. 
“Doing okay?” he breathes out and pulls back to look at you. 
You nod. Silas smiles lazily and dives into you. For a moment you’re certain that you can see sounds and hear colors. Suddenly you can feel every single fiber in your body. You hide your face down in Silas’s shoulder, trying to come back to reality. Silas chuckles and runs his hand down your back. 
“You flatter me, darling”, he smirks. “Do you need a moment?”
You nod against his shoulder, feeling more flustered than you’ve ever been. Silas laughs lovingly and kisses your cheek. You can feel how he draws circles on your back while whispering sweet affirmations in your ear. 
He takes your hands as he starts to move, squeezing them harshly. You're not sure if he does it to soothe you or himself. In reality, he feels as overwhelmed as you. There's nothing he likes more than to be filled with you. You, you and only you. His darling. His sweetheart. His reason to live. His. Silas loves to call you his. You're his and no one else's, will never ever be. He's the only one allowed to be inside of you, and the very thought of it makes his brain jump. He wants to show you off and brag to the world and at the same time keep you all to himself. 
You don’t know what to do with your body, you can’t control it. Silas grabs your hands and holds them above you in an attempt to stretch you out and keep you on the mattress.
“Feeling good?” he whispers in your ear and you nod quickly. “Good.”
He continues to talk and talk and talk, until his words turn darker and darker. From sweet nothings like ‘you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me’, ‘you’re doing so good’ to husky promises of ‘I will never let you go’ and ‘you’re mine only’. The more the alcohol leaves his body, the drunkness of you enters — and that’s much more dangerous than any kind of drug. Despite his words turning more and more possessive, his body language stays the same.
Maybe that’s why you can’t seem to hate him. Despite his actions, he will always be sweet to you. But even if he wasn’t, he said it himself: he will never let you go, you’re his only.
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