#Custom Table Covers and Throws
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thespotforprinting123 · 1 year ago
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signagebuzz · 15 days ago
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lokissweater · 2 months ago
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little mouse
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{toge inumaki x f!reader}
summary: toge inumaki, the barista at your local campus coffee shop, is the cutest man to ever cross your life— the both of you clicking fast and becoming the best of friends as the years flew by together… but you were in love. uncertain of crossing that line between friendship and lovers as you focused mainly on trying to see if he even liked you back. but as for toge? he was focused on trying not to burden you for the rest of your life because of his inability to speak, wanting you and only you, but juggling and tormented over his labored silent existence, hurting you in the process.
warnings: MDNI. afab!reader, college!au, FLUUUFFFF SO MUCH, pet names, TOGE LOVES YOU BROOO, angst!!! but with comfort!!, happy ending, SMUTTTT, p in v sex, fingering, creampie, doggy hehe, mentions of alcohol and drinking, sorority party, toge is a barista ouuu, cursing, best friends to lovers trope, reader and toge argue, all characters are aged up.
word count: 15.2k
authors note: YEEEOOOOWWWWW this fic was originally NOOTTTT supposed to be 15k but i’ve said it once and i’ll say it again I CAN NEVA STOP YAPPING MY GOD??? i hope you guys love this one as much as i do though it is SOOOOOO CUTEEE man :(( thank you SO SO MUCH for your love and support as ALWAYS, AND I LOVE YOUUUU AHHH MWAH MWAH HAVE A GOOD DAY OKAY <333
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anyone that was a regular at the shop knew toge inumaki didn’t really ever speak.
and it was something you found out on your first day of college, running to the nearest coffee shop at eight-thirty in the fucking morning looking for something to snack on and wake you up before lecture, choosing to go to the one just around the corner from campus through a recommendation of a friend— but not knowing at all that you were about to run into the cutest man to ever plague your god damn existence, as well as your bestest friend in the entire world.
toge was the main barista and cashier at the shop, his mixology skill incomparable as no one else on the floor could replicate it successfully without errors the way he did— ringing customers up while simultaneously throwing coffee bases and syrups in a blender, topping each corresponding one with whipped cream on various orders before sliding it over to the pick up counter, all without even breaking a sweat through the times that you’ve shamefully watched him work from your little table before or after classes.
the first time you met him, you thought he was just having a bad day… and that he also hated you.
you had politely told him your order while at the same time ogling his handsome face— a small and simple sweet vanilla cold brew drink with a little blueberry scone on the side— when toge didn’t even spare you a glance and just tapped in your order on the screen, turning the tablet over to showcase the total before moving to the back to get started on your drink, not a single word leaving his scarf covered mouth as you silently paid and got a table.
it’s not like you were expecting anything out of it, but you hoped you would at least catch the color of his eyes before you had to leave.
and it went on like that for a total of four days— you saying the exact same order but just switching up the little pastry depending on your mood (it only consisting of your usual three— blueberry scone, cake pop, and cheese danish), toge’s eyes never leaving the register or drinks he made as you waited, and him sliding over your order in record time as he got started on attending the next customer.
on the fifth day, toge finally looked up.
the way he took your order didn’t change, but when it came to placing it over the pick up counter where you stood, your eyes widened when you noticed he was already looking at you, a grin on his face as he personally handed you your drink instead of sliding it over.
his eyes were purple.
and you just about fucking screamed, your days of hopelessly coming in to try and ridiculously take longer peeks at his face whenever you could finally paying off in that moment— and not expecting whatsoever to see the sides of his mouth marked with tattooed snake eyes either.
that day was also the day you noticed toge knew sign language.
most of the time toge took orders quickly without a word and punched in requests, but from time to time when a customer had a question about a menu item or what the passcode to the bathroom was, he always had a little whiteboard next to him with a black marker to scribble out what he needed to say— regulars already knowing how he communicated and not batting a single strange eye.
but on that day, a new customer came in that you didn’t recognize to be a regular, signing to one of the confused employees at the cash register until the employee turned around and tapped toge on the shoulder, pointing and saying words you couldn’t really hear before he quickly nodded and put down the blender he was holding, going over to sign.
you were mesmerized by it, the way his hands and fingers came together and away from each other to form different words and sentences completely unknown to those who didn’t understand the language, something that was beautiful to you and made you want to actually learn so you could potentially have the liberty to talk to him some time in the future if you could.
the next time you came into the shop early in the morning, toge was at the register. and upon seeing you walk in, he smoothly looked down and started typing away already on the screen, seemingly not listening and leaving you standing there confused.
“um—” you stammered. “can i…”
you trailed off as you watched him pick up his whiteboard and uncap the marker, scribbling.
‘i remembered your order.’
you froze, your heart doing enormous leaps considering this was the first time toge actually spoke to you apart from getting your order down and smiling at you.
“oh! really?” you laughed nervously. “…do i come in here too often then?”
he gave you a friendly grin and shook his head, erasing what he had before writing again.
‘do you want a blueberry scone, cake pop, or cheese danish?’
your eyes bulged. “you know that too?!”
he laughed, the sound making your hands clammy as you giggled along with him shyly.
“i’ll do a cake pop today!” you smiled. “i’m running a little late and that’s— easy to eat.. you know—”
he gave you a thumbs up and nodded, signaling with his head for you to wait by the pick up counter as he scribbled another few words, turning the whiteboard around.
‘i’ll see you tomorrow :)’
your cheeks flushed pink.
“y—yeah!” you spoke gingerly. “i’ll see you toge.”
the next few times after that toge would absolutely beam whenever you came into the shop, having already scribbled down your three choices of your usual pastries before having it ready for you at the pick up counter once you chose, even every now and then asking you a simple thing or two about your classes and major from the register as you sat by your table, him propping his little whiteboard up for you to see.
and ever since you saw that toge knew sign language, you wanted to know too, your desire to communicate with him more efficiently a silly priority on your mind as you signed up for entry level sign language courses at your college, trying to learn as much as you possibly could so it’d be easier for him not always having to step back and write.
“wait wait!” you put your hands out one slow morning upon arriving at the shop, toge stopping mid tap on the screen just as he was about to input your order, eyeing you.
your fingers shook a little as you slowly signed your order and choice of pastry for the day, trying to remember and grasp what you practiced repeatedly the night before, hoping your efforts would successfully come across and that you didn’t look like a fucking idiot.
but his focused eyes followed your movements, carefully watching you sign with pinched brows until you eventually finished— a slow pearly white smile spreading across is face as his gaze flickered to yours before writing on his whiteboard, turning it.
‘you know sign language?’
“barely!” you sputtered. “i um.. i started taking classes a couple of months ago but i’m not very good… did you— get it though? what i said?”
he quickly nodded.
‘it was a little choppy but good! good job y/n :)’
you breathed out a sigh of relief, a hand over your hammering chest as you swallowed.
“oh thank god.” you breathed. “i was worried i looked stupid or was accidentally telling you something weird.”
he laughed and waved you off, a slight tint to his cheeks as he wrote.
‘how’s learning it overall?’
“hard as fuck.” you mumbled, but peering up at him with a smile. “i’m trying though! i really love the language and i love learning it… it’s just hard because my professor kind of sucks and teaches it too fast.”
he hummed, moving around in the back while preparing your order before coming around through the little swinging door and over to your usual table, you standing dumbfounded at the register still as he stood there with your pastry and his whiteboard.
toge pointed to your seat.
“oh!” you gasped, walking over and taking a seat, smiling gratefully once he placed your coffee and cheese danish down for you, but stiffening once he scooched the chair out across from you and sat, your cheeks ablaze again.
“you wanna—” you looked at him with furrowed brows. “you wanna sit with me?”
he laughed a little and nodded.
“but the…” you pointed to the cash register.
he uncapped his marker and wrote, turning the board over.
‘it’s a slow day. if someone comes in i’ll just go.’
“oh— okay!” you breathed out nervously, wringing your fingers together as you kept them on your lap.
your thoughts were speeding across every corner of your mind, not knowing exactly why toge chose to sit with you right now but hanging on to the moment anyways, you anxiously trying to come up with things to say to get to know him a little better.
“i like your um..” you pointed to the corners of your mouth. “—your tattoos. did they hurt?”
he smiled and wrote.
‘thanks :) and not really, my throat hurts more than the tattooing itself hehe.’
your eyes snapped up to his.
“your throat?” you asked softly. “is it okay?”
‘oh it’s fine!’ he wrote. ‘well no but it just hurts a lot when i talk so i just don’t.’
you hummed in understanding, the missing puzzle as to why exactly toge never spoke out loud to anyone in the first place finally clicking into place.
“i’m sorry toge…” you expressed sweetly. “have you tried— well i assume you have but… like getting it checked out? or maybe honey with lemon or—”
he turned his board around.
‘yeah :P nothing really works. L for me.’
you giggled, and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth in a smile.
‘can you show me what else you know in sign language?’
“ohhh this is it.” you swallowed. “you’re about to laugh in my face and think i’m stupid.”
he laughed and gave you a look.
‘you’re silly. just show me.’
you huffed before timidly showing him very basic simple phrases that you managed to pick up from class out of the millions that were shown— short choppy kiddy words that didn’t even serve to get by in a quick conversation, but enough for simple one worded responses.
“oh! and i like this one the most!—” you put the bases of your palms together and rubbed a little.
toge let out a squeaky cute laugh as he watched you before quickly picking up his marker and writing.
‘cheese? your favorite thing to sign is cheese?’
“yeah!—” you giggled shyly. “it’s funnn! and i never fuck it up.”
he nodded with a gleam in his eye.
‘i could teach you sign language if you want.’
you froze, eyes wide as you looked at him.
“seriously?” you quickly leaned forward. “are— are you sure? you definitely don’t have to at all toge… i don’t want to burden you or anything.”
his eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head.
‘not burden at all.’ he wrote. ‘i’m a lazy fart i don’t do much besides this so it’s fine.’
you giggled and nodded excitedly, a hopeful shine in your eyes as you looked at him.
“o—okay!” you agreed. “i’d like that a lot… thank you toge!”
he was so nice.
and just as he was about to write something else, a customer came through the doors and up to the cash register, toge quickly scribbling something down before standing and showing you, walking backwards.
‘i’ll talk to you later little mouse :)’
you laughed loudly, a hand flying over your mouth as you did.
that nickname stuck.
“bye toge!” you responded kindly, gathering your things before heading out for the day with your coffee and pastry.
unfortunately for you, midterm season came and knocked the absolute shit out of you for a week, you unable to go back to the coffee shop to see toge until it was all fucking over, your heart heavy over the fact that you literally failed your sign language test, but giddy and excited nonetheless to finally see him after a while and go back to your usual happy routine.
and as for toge, he was left utterly confused.
was he too forward? did you think it was weird when he called you little mouse? did you think he was weird?
was it something he did? why had you stopped coming into the shop after going in continuously for like weeks at this point?
and he had just gotten the courage to look you in the eye too.
toge literally had your order ready every single day with your three pastries warmed up and toasted if need be, your sweet vanilla cold brew drink ready to go the moment you walked through those doors at any given point and time… but you just didn’t come. him leaning on the register counter bored out of his mind and dejected over the disappearance of the pretty nice girl that always came in and talked to him at his work, ending up always drinking the coffee he made for you silently and munching on the three pastries you chose between when it was time to close.
but when you finally came in, early in the morning like you always did and looking forward to seeing him again— toge was hunched over the counter with his chin propped up on his hand like he had been for the past week, you unknowing of that as you walked over with a smile.
“hi toge!”
he shot up, eyes wide with his palms flat on the counter.
“y/n!—”
he spoke.
toge spoke and he immediately cowered over in a fit of painful sounding coughs that racked through his body, his mouth shoved into his elbow as he quickly pushed through the doors and walked to the back, leaving you there wide eyed and completely fucking shocked.
he said your name.
“toge..?” you called softly, timidly as you leaned over the counter to try and catch a look at him from inside the employee break room, still hearing faint coughing. “hey— are you okay?”
he returned to the floor chugging back a bottle of cough syrup like nothing before tossing it into the nearest bin and swallowing, snatching his marker to write on the mini whiteboard, holding it up.
‘where the fuck have you been?’
you looked at him with an apologetic little face, your eyes soft.
“i’m sorryyy!” you whined. “i’m so sorry it was midterm week for me and i was grinding so hard and i just didn’t have time to come in… it was torture.”
you guiltily bit your lip. “…are you mad at me?”
he shook his head slowly, his shoulders visibly relaxing at the confirmation that it wasn’t anything he did that could’ve potentially put you off.
‘not at all mouse :P.’ he wrote before reaching to the side and sliding over your already made coffee and three pastries, lined up.
and surprise crossed your face.
“you had it ready?” you gasped. “toge! thank you!”
you quickly opened your book bag and he placed a hand over your arm, stopping you and shaking his head ‘no.’
“no?” you asked softly. “what do you mean? i’m just gonna pay.”
toge only shook his head again with a small smile, nudging his head over for you to sit at your usual table.
your shoulders slumped. “now what would you do if i just burst out crying right now.”
he laughed loudly and let go of your arm to write, leaving a burning fuzzy feeling on your skin in return.
‘cry? why?’
“because you’re so nice!” you whined. “please let me pay. i already feel bad not coming in for a week… especially after you offered to teach me sign language.”
‘go sit down mouse. i’ll sit with you in a little bit.’
you begrudgingly stood in place before nodding and taking your drink with your bag of pastries, walking over to the side and plopping down on a seat.
toge had a bit of a rush in and couldn’t join you for nearly an hour, him constantly shooting you apologetic looks and you frantically waving him off and reassuring him that it was okay, you astronomically thankful that you didn’t have class that day until later in the evening.
but when the rush was eventually over, toge dropped down on the seat across from yours with a big tired sigh and his whiteboard, head down.
you gently poked his arm then, and he looked up.
“is your throat okay?” you asked, face serious. “and you?”
he nodded, giving you a warm smile before grabbing his marker.
‘it happens sometimes, i just slipped up. L for me again.’
you smiled sadly and retracted your hand from across the table to settle back over your lap.
“i like your voice… if that makes you feel any better.” you spoke shyly, looking down at your fingers.
toge bit the inside of his cheek and smiled cheekily.
‘thanks mouse… but i know something that’ll make me feel even better hehe.’
“what?” you asked curiously.
he wrote.
‘give me your number before you disappear on me again you little rat.’
“hey!” you whined. “i thought i was a mouse..”
he chuckled cutely and nudged your foot gently from underneath the table, erasing and writing again.
‘i’m just kidding. we need to set up those sign language lessons soon though :D.’
and at the reminder of that you groaned, body slumping over the table as toge eyed you confusedly.
“you’re gonna laugh. or be mad. or disappointed. or all three..” you mumbled, voice slightly muffled.
he poked your head repeatedly and you lifted it, chin resting lazily on the table as he looked at you expectantly.
“i failed my sign language midterm.”
toge snorted but quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, and you whined again before shoving your face back down as he quickly shook you by the shoulders, trying to get you to look up again.
“no no no i’m a disgrace i’m a failure i studied so fucking hard for nothing it’s over i’m not cut out—”
he kept shaking and delicately pinching you before you finally looked up again.
“what.” you mumbled, eyes dragging to his propped up whiteboard.
‘i’m sorry i laughed… but don’t worry you’ll pass the next one. you’ll be okay.’
“and how do you know.” you grumbled.
‘because now you have delicious me, duh :P’
you giggled softly and lifted yourself from the table, leaning back against your chair.
he gave you a warm knowing smile before writing again.
‘cheer up mouse… i promise i’ll help you.’
a slow cutesy grin spread across your face, one that made him swallow hard as you looked at him through your lashes.
“thank you toge… do you— do you work tomorrow?”
his gaze flickered up in thought before he shook his head, eyes landing back on yours.
“maybe we could start… tomorrow? if you’re free? and if— if it’s okay of course!” you stammered nervously, gnawing at your bottom lip as you waited for his response.
his cheeks fluttered pink a little before quickly nodding.
“okay!” you breathed excitedly. “great! we could do it here? or—”
he frantically shook his head no and uncapped his marker.
‘my dickhead manager will pull me to work if i’m here on my day off.’
you laughed and nodded. “okay not here then.. where? we can try my place but i already know my parents are gonna be annoying about bringing a guy over so..”
he smiled and looked down to write.
‘we can do my apartment mouse. i live alone.’
your eyes widened. “you have your own place? really?”
he slowly nodded.
“that’s so cool toge! oh my goodness i can’t wait to see it now!”
you bounced enthusiastically in your seat and he chuckled, perplexed as to why you would ever be excited to see something like that, but choosing not to question it.
‘it’s kind of small, and i mainly just sleep and be lazy if i’m not working or streaming.’
you tilted your head. “streaming..?”
he pursed his lips and looked down again to scribble, an embarrassed undertone to his face before propping the whiteboard up.
‘i play games and stream to earn extra money on the side like a little loser.’
you giggled, your eyebrows slightly furrowing before relaxing. “why would that make you a little loser toge? you’re making money while doing something you like… i think that’s really fun!”
an eager attractive grin ran across his face before quickly writing again.
‘i’m glad you think so :) but give me your number neow.’
“oh that’s right!” you beamed, taking his offered whiteboard and marker before quickly writing down your number with a heart in the corner, passing it back.
“just text me whenever and we can set a time for tomorrow okay?”
he nodded, his eyes trained to the heart you drew.
for the rest of his shift, toge spent it bouncing around between your table and back to the cash register to take orders and make drinks, seemingly finishing each beverage ten times fucking faster than usual just so he could come over and talk to you before you had to leave again for your evening class.
but you didn’t want to leave whatsoever, and you even juggled the possibility of skipping class to stay longer with toge, but the next class happened to be sign language, and you didn’t want to fail another fucking midterm by not showing up and missing material.
you threw your trash away before grabbing your book bag and slinging it over your shoulder once it was time, you slowly and timidly trying to get toge’s attention as you walked to the exit.
your shy raised hand caught his eye in between him blending and pouring drinks, toge quickly putting everything down and reaching for the whiteboard from the register, erasing whatever he had from a previous customer to write and flipping it over with a silly smile.
‘bye mouse!’ it read. ‘i’ll see you tomorrow! :P.’
and that was nearly two and a half years ago, the heart you drew in the corner of his whiteboard still there to this day as he answered questions, responded, or scribbled directions in any given situation with it no matter if it was in or outside of work— always wanting to have a little part of you with him wherever he went.
toge also kept his promise and taught you sign language, you trying so so fucking hard every waking day you spent with him at his cute little studio apartment— learning phrases and properly constructing it into sentences that actually made sense as you both sat sprawled on the floor for hours on end, him patient and kind as he watched you shakily sign and accept his gentle corrections with an open mind.
but although your sentences were continuously choppy and a little off at that point in time, they were definitely in way better condition than when you tried to study and learn it on your own… and toge was unsurprisingly a really good teacher— ten times more helpful than your literal freaking licensed professor whom you had started with, as toge would actually take the time to write and explain each concept in the best way he possibly could for you to understand.
now you were comfortable enough with it to respond in very simple sentences and phrases, but stronger at understanding it whenever toge signed to you, a plus when he clumsily forgot his whiteboard somewhere or when he just didn’t want to use it.
and ever since that first day you went over to his place to learn and study, you literally never went a day without going back again, your cute routine with him being going to his apartment every second of the day to hang out with him or do the things that you needed to do— some that could easily be done in your own space and home and room, but you refusing to for the sole purpose of wanting to be with toge all of the time, him feeling the exact same way and going as far as to giving you a copy of the key to his apartment.
(toge :D): MOUSE
(toge :D): MOUSE
your phone buzzed repeatedly just as you were walking up the steps to toge’s floor, you nearly dropping it over the uncontrollable buzz.
(toge :D): LITTLE MOUSE
(you): YES <3
(toge :D): ouuu a heart?? i didn’t know we were married :P
you let out a giggle and quickly typed a response, your face hot.
(you): mmm i don’t know my ring finger is quite literally bare right now :/ maybe next time!
(toge :D): YOOOOO
(toge :D): it’s because it’s gonna be under your pillow
(toge :D): like from the tooth fairy
(toge :D): a big shiny cock
(toge :D): I MEAN ROCK
(toge :D): ROCK I MEANT ROCK SORRY
you burst out laughing as you readjusted your book bag on your shoulder and turned the corner, nearing his apartment number.
(toge :D): …please still come over
(toge :D): oh wait that’s why i texted you! :P
(toge :D:) WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU
(toge :D): YOU’RE LATE MOUSE
(you): LMFAAOOO
(you): IM COMMINGGGG i’m literally down the hall sir
(you): but now that you yelled at me HMMMM i don’t feel like going today <//3
(toge :D): NO
(toge :D): i’m sorry i’m on my knees
(toge :D): i’m begging
(toge :D): i even brought you a blueberry scone from work
(toge :D): and i’ll buy you whatever you want
(toge :D): FUCK COME OVER NOOOWWWWW
(you): SAY PLEASE AND ADDRESS ME CORRECTLY
(toge :D): PLEEEAASSEEE MOUUSEE
you bit your lip in attempts at suppressing your giddy smile, it not really fucking working as you arrived at his door, pulling your keys out from your bag and shuffling through them to find his— one that had a tiny onigiri design on it.
(you): coming!! <33
(toge :D): so you’re saying we’re married again :P
the door clicked open upon you twisting the key in, stepping inside before closing it behind you while juggling your textbooks and locking it, toge seated on his little gaming chair when he swiveled around and waved at you with a big smile, standing.
“toge!” you gasped exhaustedly, stepping over to him. “you have got to help me please my god—”
he grabbed the textbooks from your arms and walked over to his desk, setting them down before turning back around and giving you a curious look.
‘what’s wrong?’ he signed.
“everything! everything is wrong sign language two is not for the weak oh my goodness gracious—”
you flopped down with your back flat on his bed, eyes shut in agony as he watched you amusedly.
“my professor’s teaching us grammar now and it just gets harder! i don’t know where to properly put anything or— or sign anything.”
he giggled softly and you peeked an eye open, looking at him.
‘i’ll help you mouse.’ he signed, stretching a hand out and you taking it, letting him pull you up to sit as you lazily did so.
“but i ask you too much.” you pouted. “and i feel bad every time i do, especially when you’re playing.”
he snorted, going over to his little dining table and pulling out a chair, lifting it over to his desk gaming set up area and placing it down before ushering you over with his hand.
“nuh uh.” you shook your head.
toge gave you a half lidded look and sat on the dining chair, him always saving his big comfy gaming chair for you whenever you sat with him at his desk since the first time you came over— his eyes expectant.
you deeply sighed and stood, trudging over to his gaming chair before plopping yourself down.
“you don’t have to toge… it’s okay.” you spoke gently. “you’ve been teaching me for like— two years already. my new year’s resolution was to stop bothering you about it and let you live.”
he slid his little whiteboard over and erased what he previously had, uncapping his marker and writing.
he showed you.
‘i’ll always help you and you know that :( and it doesn’t bother me you rat, i do it because i want to.’
or because he’s in love with you. either or.
you giggled and lifted your hand, your index finger erasing over the word ‘rat.’ “—it’s mouusee toge. it’s like you get off on abusing and hurting your bestest mestest friend.”
he laughed boyishly and put down his whiteboard, sliding over one of your textbooks from across the table to him and flipping through several pages, reading to try and see exactly where you were at by the sticky notes you left behind in the margins.
“don’t you have to stream today though?” you asked timidly. “like right now?”
he simply shrugged, turning a page as he reached over to write again on his board.
‘i can stream later tonight—’
he quickly turned it around again to add something just as you had finished reading, him flipping it back over.
‘—with you asleep on my bed. because you’re sleeping over. and that’s FINAL.’
you laughed loudly while leaning forward, your cheeks brewing up a little flush at the request even though you’ve slept over at his place plenty of times before— the thought of him actively wanting you to making your heart bounce around erratically in your chest.
“fuck i don’t know…” you feigned concern. “i’m not sure if i can toge i’m sorry.”
he slumped, eyes so sad that it made you almost sick to your stomach as you struggled to commit to the small bit.
‘why not?’ he signed.
“because i’m missing something.” you pouted.
‘missing?’ he signed again. ‘missing what?’
you snickered.
“my ring!” you extended your hand to him and wiggled your little fingers, you poking the tip of your tongue out to the side cutely. “the one you promised me over text.”
toge breathed out a laugh and nearly dropped dead at your cute expression, him mimicking you and sticking his tattooed tongue out before picking up his whiteboard from his lap to write.
‘i told you the tooth fairy has it :D you have to be patient little mouse.’
you giggled and put your arm down, giving him a stern silly look.
“kayyy thennn!” you dragged, sitting up in your chair and looking over your textbook. “i’ll be expecting my big shiny rock under my pillow in the morning sir.”
he saluted you and you grinned, the rest of the time being spent with toge trying to teach you as best as he could with you hopelessly following along, feeling like the dumbest bitch alive and embarrassed whenever you got something wrong.
but toge never minded, not one single bit— even when you made the same grammar mistake literally three times in a row and him correcting you each freaking time the same exact way, no sign of annoyance or frustration on his face as he worked with you.
and that’s one of the biggest reasons as to why you loved toge so much. since the moment you met him all he wanted to do was just help you, regardless of the fact if you were a stranger or not as he generously always put the things he needed to do aside for you— making sure you were always okay and getting the things you needed no matter how many times you told him he didn’t need to worry, you feeling special and appreciated whenever you were with him no matter what.
you hoped to god he felt the same… and you hoped you weren’t being straight delusional when you noticed the way he looked at you a little longer than he should have at times, or when you read too much into the casual little pecks on your head from him, or when you had told him how much you loved just studying on the floor beside him while he streamed but made a joke that sometimes you couldn’t see because it was so dark in his apartment, toge literally the next day buying you a little flower lily lamp to set and prop up right next to you so you could comfortably study, him laughing and wiping your tears when you ridiculously cried over his consideration.
so did that mean he loved you too?
“toge…” you murmured in the midst of him fixing a signage error of the word ‘before’ with his fingers.
he pointed to your hands so you could take note of the alteration he made, waiting for you to carry on then.
you smiled softly in gratitude before continuing.
“have you ever—” you pursed your lips. “have you ever um… well— actually nevermind—”
he blinked before slowly lifting his hands.
‘have i ever what?’ toge signed, and you quickly shook your head.
“nevermind! it’s okay.”
he gently nudged your foot with his, beckoning you to tell him as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
fuck.
okay if he kisses your head right now then you’ll tell him.
“i forgot toge.” you lied. “that’s why i said nevermind… oopsie!”
he laughed and leaned forward, pecking your forehead before reaching a hand up to ruffle up your hair.
fuck!
no you take it back you can’t do it you can’t—
‘silly.’ he signed, turning his attention back to your textbook and flipping a page.
he wondered what it was, but figured it would come back to you eventually and you’d tell him soon after.
by the end of the day, it was like there was an actual fucking light at the end of the tunnel for you and your sign language two class— you going from being over a thousand percent sure that you were about to pathetically fail the entire course, to having a shiny little sliver of hope because of toge’s ability to get anything through your big head and make you understand, feeling eternally grateful for him in many ways than one.
and you wanted him, so fucking bad, ever since you saw him at the coffee shop, that you thought in that moment while toge set up his bed for you to sleep in while you sat on his desk chair, dressed in his big white t-shirt and pajama pants, that if you just— maayybee tested the waters and crossed the line a little bit without it being too drastic, that you’d get your answer.
but did you want to know? what if he didn’t love you back? what the fuck were you supposed to do then?
cry and wither away, that’s what. you don’t think you’ve ever loved someone as much as you loved toge.
you hear the familiar squeaks of his black marker streaking against his little whiteboard, the sound pulling you from your thoughts and you looked up.
‘you’re so spacey today pretty. are you still worried about your class? :(‘
pretty.
“oh!” you stood. “no toge i feel a lot better about it actually because of you… thank you.”
he grinned, nodding before walking and leaning over his pc to set up his streaming session, mouse clicking away.
“toge—”
he looked over at you with his gorgeous purple eyes and you froze, cheeks heating up as your wobbly lips struggled to come together and fucking speak.
“nevermind nevermind—”
his eyes narrowed, snatching his whiteboard and quickly writing.
‘you did this earlier today too. tell me what’s wrong.’
“no.”
‘no?’ he signed. ‘tell me y/n.’
“no! not my name!” you dived dramatically on his comfy blanket filled bed and groaned. “you only call me by my name when you’re mad and i don’t like it.”
he sat next to you on the edge of the bed and pulled on your shoulder slightly, you fully turning around on your back and looking at him anxiously.
toge wished he could continuously beg you and ask you what was wrong so you’d just tell him— him at times sick of constantly having to pause and make you wait so he could get his point across, a painful fact that never left his mind and made him feel like the biggest burden in your life.
that’s why he never wanted to cross that line you both always seemed to lean over without meaning to. the line that’s kept you both on this limbo of half best friends and half more as he sometimes hugged you a lot longer or snuck in a couple of self indulgent cheek and hand kisses to your skin… but that’s as far as he’d really let himself get. toge didn’t want to permanently have you drag him along in your life no matter how much he wanted to be in it as something way more.
you deserved noise, you deserved loud love, you deserved someone who could actually speak to you— things he mourned over that he could never give you.
and he knew this. he’s known from the moment you walked into the coffee shop the very first time even though you swore up and down that he noticed you later, you unaware that he actually saw you right off the fucking bat on the first day and couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eye— knowing you were going to be the biggest heartbreak of his life and ruin him if he so managed as to let you in when you kept coming back.
but toge was selfish, and he couldn’t help himself.
so he tried to compromise.
there’s nothing wrong with being just friends… right? a casual conversation between two people while he was at work? to then bid goodbye and say hello to every now and then?
except a quick conversation with you turned into ones that lasted almost his entire shift sometimes, and then casual meet ups turned into sleepovers at his apartment when he offered to teach you sign language, and then little hugs of farewell and hello’s turned into him kissing you practically fucking everywhere that wasn’t your mouth with the tightest embraces, him completely going against what he swore he wasn’t going to do and damning himself for life.
and even more so when you had joked about wanting a ring that one day, him actually going out the next day and buying you matching ones even though he didn’t even know if he was strong enough to actually give yours to you.
but toge was still freaking selfish.
because as you looked at him now, your gorgeous face anxious and thought-filled about things he wished you would tell him without worry, the outline and shape of your plush soft lips burning his pupils in such a way that it felt like a privilege, your body in his clothes—
made him want to speak the three worded phrase he was only allowed to say in his sleepy dreams if he was lucky.
“what toge?” you spoke softly, reaching a hand up to delicately card through the front pieces of his pale blonde hair, soft and silky as the outline of his tattooed snake eyes made you a little fuzzy.
he slowly shook his head, a far off look in his eye as he leaned over you, his face close and strained that your eyebrows pinched a little at his expression.
your hand proceeded to gently smooth down from his hair to the side of his cheek, cupping it and caressing over it with your thumb so lovingly that he nearly broke his oath.
if you said that you loved him… he wondered if he would crack. if you confessed and told him that you felt the same way, he juggled the possibility of ruining his own life by giving in and letting you take on the burden of his existence just to have you like he’s always wanted—
“i love you.” you told him.
toge’s big wide afraid eyes stared back at you as you smiled sheepishly, his breath caught in his throat.
“i—” you hesitated, playing with the hem of his shirt. “i really love you. like in the way where i want you to like— kiss me and stuff in your free time…”
he huffed a shocked breath, his face still just alarmed and strained and you started to believe that maybe you actually were delusional and misinterpreted things, his lack of anything making you second guess.
“i’m sorry.” you blurted. “i’m sorry i thought—”
and toge was still selfish as he let his lips fall down and crash against yours, moving so feverishly and hungrily that you couldn’t keep up as he dug his arms underneath you and around before pulling you up flush against his body, wanting you as close to him as humanely fucking possible incase he never got to do this again with you, the possibility horrifyingly still there.
“does this mean—” you spoke in between kisses, breathless. “does this mean you love me too—”
toge broke apart momentarily and quickly nodded, eyes ditzy and clouded as he panted against your lips, drunkenly lowering his head and linking his wet lips with yours again as he sloppily kissed you, laying you back down while you wrung your arms around his neck, you giddy and absolutely fucking enamored with him and that he was finally yours.
except he technically wasn’t… yet…
even when three full weeks had passed.
you still visited toge at work in the coffee shop in the mornings or the afternoon like you always did, ordering the same thing and going in to chat as he wrote his responses on his whiteboard— except now whenever rush hour would conclude, toge would greedily sneak in kisses with you at your table or hold the back of your hand to his cheek as you talked about your classes and your plans for the weekend, his conflicted mind putting his oath on the back burner for now as he tried to relish in the love he’s been wanting for so long.
and you were a little confused as to why toge hadn’t taken the initiative that night and asked you to be his girlfriend, but you didn’t complain, you too caught up in the moment when he would make out with you at his apartment in between study or streaming breaks with his hands literally all over you like a man starved, groping and squeezing at anything he could but never going over that last jump to do something intimate with you, your lovesick mind too in it to care at the moment.
that was the next compromise he made.
if you both just— just stayed this way. no official title no matter how much it pained him just so that he could continue doing these lovely lovely things with you whenever you both wanted, his mind thinking that since you both weren’t technically together that he wasn’t burdening you for life just yet, wanting to keep it this way for as long as he possibly could because toge didn’t fucking know what he was going to do when the time came for making it official.
well yes— he did know. but what he wanted to do and what he should do were two completely different things.
“togeee!” you bounded into the shop one morning, thankful that it was empty as you quickly leaned over the counter and pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek, him smiling wide with a flush to his face in response.
‘hi mouse :) <3’ he wrote on his whiteboard. ‘have you had something to eat yet?’
“i’m good im good! wait i haven’t ate but im good!” you spoke excitedly. “i come with newwsss. really fun news!”
he hummed and nodded, motioning for you to continue as he moved around in the back to get and warm up a breakfast sandwich for you.
“one of my friends from sign language told me she’s throwing a party at her sorority house and invited meee!” you beamed, hearing a little oven ping and then following him to your usual table so the both of you could sit.
toge gently slid your sandwich over upon scooting his chair up, warm and yummy as it sat pretty on a little pastel green plate and him signing ‘eat please’ as you grinned.
“and i know you told me once that you’ve never been to a college party, so i was wondering if you wanted to maybe.. come with me?”
he smiled softly.
‘when?’ toge signed.
“tomorrow night!” you responded, taking a bite out of your breakfast sandwich.
he nodded, thinking a little in his head before sliding his whiteboard over to write.
‘of course ill go mouse but it might be better without me.’
you faltered, swallowing. “without you? why?”
he erased and wrote again.
‘because i can’t talk. your friends might think it’s a little odd.’
“no they won’t.” you countered. “and that’s totally okay, toge. just bring your whiteboard.”
he snorted, shaking his head.
‘i’m not bringing my whiteboard silly that’s even worse.’
“but you’ll be with me.” you reasoned. “and i don’t really talk to anyone at school either besides her so it’s literally just you and i hanging out.”
you wiggled your brows. “and drinkinggg ehh?”
he laughed and eventually nodded, reaching across the table and taking your hands in his as he agreed to go, caressing his fingers over your wrists.
the familiar scent of coffee beans and vanilla— a scent you’ve come to know for almost three years now wafted and swirled around through your nose comfortingly, it permanently reminding you of toge and the time that you’ve spent with him.
he let go of your wrists to write.
‘how was sign language yesterday? are you still good?’
you swallowed the bite you were chewing on and held back a grimace.
“oh i’m doing horrendously again… but it’s all good! ignorance is bliss and i’m choosing hardcore ignorance right now.”
toge’s jaw dropped before he laughed in disbelief and picked up his marker.
‘you’re sleeping over at my place again so i can help you no exceptions sorry about it :p’
you giggled and nodded— saluting him, a mannerism you picked up on from him as he smiled brightly.
“but i do know this!” you exclaimed excitedly as you pressed the bases of your palms together and rubbed, signing the word ‘cheese’— your favorite.
toge laughed cutely and signed the same word back, unable to do much else as the doors chimed to the shop then and a group of students came in, toge’s chair scraping against the floor as he stood before giving you a quick kiss and a ruffle to your hair, his whiteboard in hand as he started making his way to the back.
‘i love you.’ he signed and you bit your bottom lip in a smile, your heart swelling obnoxiously as you watched him shuffle on and tap a few things into the register, nodding along to the groups order as you soon after gathered your things for your afternoon class.
and that night after toge taught you a little more sign language and helped you work on the things you were struggling with, you fell asleep rather earlier than usual on his bed— him reaching for one of his fluffy blankets and draping it over your sleeping gorgeous self and staring, slowly leaning down and pressing the softest kiss ever to your little warm cheek— his chest twisting and contorting with the desire to just fucking give in and stop his stupid ridiculous suffering, to just be selfish one last time and ask you to be his.
and maybe he could.
maybe toge could allow himself this one tiny thing— the most important pretty thing of all, he felt.
just once.
“toge?” you murmured sleepily, eyes pinching a little as you lazily reached out for him.
but what if you grew tired of him? of the silence?
he delicately took your outstretched hand and hummed in question.
“come sleep.” you mumbled. “with me.”
his eyes softened, the corners of his mouth curving as he carefully tapped his index finger against your cheek repeatedly, you straining your eyes open.
‘look under your pillow.’ he signed.
your groggy eyes narrowed in confusion, barely making out what he was signing in the dark but catching key words.
“under my pillow?”
he nodded, pointing.
you breathed in and propped yourself up on your elbow, lifting the pillow you were laying on and suddenly snapping the fuck awake.
a ring.
you shot up, sitting up fully as you looked at him.
he stood and reached over for his whiteboard and marker, uncapping it and writing for a moment before flipping it around and showing you.
‘i got us matching bestest mestest friends but also in love at the same time rings :]’
you picked it up, a dainty thin silver banned ring with a milky white heart in the middle, iridescent as it glowed against the moonlight streaming through his open window.
“toge—” you breathed out. “you actually… you actually got me a ring?”
he wrote, a sly little grin on his face.
‘the tooth fairy did mouse.’
you giggled then, a vibrant pink glow to your cheeks and still a little shocked as he took the jewelry piece from you and gently grabbed your hand, sliding it over your ring finger smoothly, his ring finger already having his shiny silver band on.
he put your hand down and grabbed his whiteboard again.
‘that ring is me promising to help you and love you and kiss you until i die.’ he wrote. ‘okay?’
you quickly nodded, absolutely cheesed as you threw your arms around his neck and pulled toge in— feeling so so happy and fresh and loved, like everything was officially falling into place after nearly three years of semi crossing lines and stolen glances and unanswered questions about what exactly you both were for the longest.
your pretty pretty face had toge in a daze as you looked at him like he carried the world on his shoulders, his mouth slowly coming closer and closer to yours before softly pressing against them— slow and tender as you tugged him down to you by his shirt until he climbed in and was in between your thighs.
each kiss exchange was sensual and a mouthful as you helped toge tug his shirt off over his head, your palms running over his bare skinned chest and back as he deepened his kisses, your hands quickly pulling your shirt off and his eyes bulging at the sight of your puffy tits snug and pretty in your bra.
you were desperate for him and didn’t even have to think twice about something like this as you reached and tugged a little at his jeans, signaling him to take them the fuck off—
‘baby.’ he signed shakily, not even sure why he was asking since he doesn’t think at this point he could stop, but needing to check in with you first. ‘are you sure?’
“fuck yeah i’m sure.” you whispered quickly and unzipped his pants, toge smiling big as he kicked his pants and everything else off, carefully helping you do the same until you were bare and vulnerable in front of him.
toge moved to place a hand on your thigh and you squeaked, suddenly bashful as you shyly covered your arms over your chest and squeezed your thighs together.
he leaned down and placed gentle soft kisses on your cheeks, patting a comforting hand over your head.
‘it’s okay mouse. you’re okay.’ he signed.
you nodded, comfort washing over you as you slowly let your thighs spread and your arms reveal you, his spit catching in his throat at the sight of your gorgeous fucking body beneath him, his dick embarrassingly already leaking a little bit of cum as you watched him pump it a few times.
‘you’re beautiful.’ he signed, and you blushed.
he drooled some spit over his fingers and slid it gently in between your folds, your bottom lip coming in between your teeth as you tried to hold back your moans, his digits prepping you while slipping through your hole deeming it fucking hard as he was completely lost in it, unaware of the way he was riling you up and already building up that familiar sensation in the pit of your tummy.
“t—toge—” your pussy clenched at the way he was fucking you with his fingers, keeping your thighs apart with his other arm as he was completely drowned in the gushy sticky sounds of your hole.
“you’re gonna make me cum and i—” you panted, cute whines slipping from your lips as he looked up at you. “—i wanna cum when you’re inside—”
his cock spasmed and a drop of cum drooped out at your yummy plea, his breathing trembling as he quickly nodded and squeezed your thigh endearingly, slowly slipping his fingers out and stuffing them into his mouth to suck your juices as he pumped his cock while lining it up with your hole.
toge sunk in his dick then, the both of you groaning at the way he filled you up so fucking nice and stretched you, your pussy literally grabbing his cock and sucking him inside easily as you gripped his shoulders tight.
“mmm!—” you whimpered, toge now slowly pumping his cock inside of you as he leaned over and propped himself up by his arms, hips tenderly and deliciously rolling in as he panted and softly whined in your ear.
you were so god damn tight, his throat literally closing at the lock you had around him as he fucked you slow and breathless, one of his hands coming down to grip your waist to try and keep himself grounded and from snapping his hips into yours brutally— him wanting to make love to you and not do that just yet.
toge ducked his head down and licked over a perky tit, your breath hitching and subconsciously spreading your legs wider as he closed his lips around your nipple— suckling and laying a flat tattooed tongue over it as you moaned.
“faster—” pant! “faster please baby—”
with a mouthful of your tit he snapped his hips up, you choking as he started going a lot quicker than you anticipated as your hand flew to your mouth to keep your moans in, your tits bouncing with every fuck.
“oh my god oh my god—”
toge suddenly pulled out and threw you over, tummy to the bed as he hauled your ass up and lined himself at your entrance again, wasting no time in pushing in and screwing you in the same pace he had before.
but this new position was an absolute delicacy as you drooled over his sheets at the way he rammed his cock, the recoil of your ass sending a shiver up his spine and roughly gripping your hips and ass in anyway he could, you screaming and whining into his pillow as a series of slaps to your ass cheeks from him echoed through his little studio.
toge was about to dump the biggest fucking load in you that it was embarrassing.
you reached a hand behind you and he quickly grabbed it, his thumb running over your skin soothingly as he pistoned roughly into your cunt, him groaning and whimpering over the squelching and leaking of your hole as he felt his dick harden— his cum on the brink of release.
“fuck fuck fuck—” you hiccuped into his pillow. “baby i’m gonna cum i’m gonna cum hah!—”
he gripped your hand harder and leaned down over you, rutting into your pussy as he heaved and pressed his lips up against your ear, choking out the word ‘cum’ so softly that it bypassed the confines of his situation, your eyes squeezing shut as the hardest fucking orgasm you had ever had in your life hit you like brick.
you felt toge’s hips snap up and still as his hot milky cum spilled through your walls with a grunt, gooey and slimy as it filled you up and left you squirming at the weight of it.
his breath fanned against your hair as he tried to calm it, his hand moving soothingly up and down your back as you weakly tried to gain back some consciousness, the both of you sweaty and spent with his softening dick sliding out slowly.
toge carefully nudged you back over and kissed you tenderly, his hands traveling from your back over to your tummy and smoothly caressing every part of you down to the sides of your thighs, eyes swelling in utter worship over you as he leaned back to look at you.
‘i love you baby.’ he signed, and you beamed.
and just as toge had finally decided to ask you to be his girlfriend then, to officially let go of the fears he had and let himself have you— there in your arms as you peppered sweet cute kisses all over his face and over his tattooed markings on the corners of his mouth, pulling him further in to rest and sleep?
toge had a horrendous day the following morning that threw it all away.
horrendous.
it started in the morning when he left your sleeping figure quietly with a kiss to your head for his shift at work that day, excited and in a never ending state of bliss from the night before as he drove to the shop.
except he had forgotten his whiteboard at home.
toge had realized when he was already fucking halfway into the drive, a full fledged twenty five minute one that he didn’t have time to go back and repeat as he pulled up to the parking lot— cursing himself for being such a dumbass and wondering how the fuck he was gonna answer specific questions from customers, especially since he was the only one really working today.
he figured he should be fine… right? usually the people that come in already know what to get and they just read it out to him.
but there’s always a few every single day without fail that ask questions toge needed his whiteboard for. and you didn’t have class that day— so the means of you coming down there were for nothing, at least not until the party later that night.
and he didn’t want to ask anything of you…
but he really needed it.
(toge :D): hi pretty mouseee i know you’re asleep i’m sorry but is there anyway you could come to the shop when you wake up and drop off my whiteboard please? i left it on the desk like a stupid fucking idiot EL OH EL
“inumaki.”
toge froze on his walk to open the shop and looked up from his phone, eyes blowing wide.
there his manager stood, who was also the owner of the coffee shop itself, a stern look on his face with crossed arms as they both stood in front of a shattered door and windows, shards of glass twinkling on the floor.
“did you lock up last night?”
toge nodded, eyebrows furrowed as he scanned the ground.
“everything?”
he went to nod again, but stopped.
he did… he did truly he did—
…oh.
he forgot to lock up and cash in the register.
toge quickly stepped over the glass and swung open the shattered door and over to the front counter, sure enough finding the register wide open and battered with not a single fucking penny left inside.
he groaned, his hands shooting up and digging the bases of his palms into his eyes as he leaned back, lips in a thin line at how utterly fucking stupid he was for forgetting to lock up the register and take in the money— the number one thing he was always supposed to do.
“what happened?” his manager asked, hands out. “have you been not locking it up?”
toge scrambled for his phone and pulled it from his back pocket, the thought of his job literally on the line because of this sending him for a fucking ride.
‘i always lock it up, honestly.’ he typed and showed his phone. ‘but i stupidly forgot last night and i can’t express enough to you how sorry i am.’
his manager sighed deeply and dropped his hands, looking over at the open register.
“you’ve consistently been one of my best.” he spoke. “but a mistake like this isn’t something small like forgetting to properly close and wipe down everything or put up the chairs.”
toge nodded understandingly, arms tightly crossed over his chest as he shamefully looked to the side, feeling like the biggest pathetic loser for doing something like this that could’ve been entirely avoided if he just did his damn job correctly.
“it’s alright.” his manager reached and patted a heavy hand to his shoulder. “it happens. it’s just unfortunate that we got broken into right when it did.”
toge looked at him.
“we can’t open today because there’s glass everywhere… so if you can stay and call up the insurance for the shop—” he pointed to the wall, their number amongst others typed and labeled. “—and file an insurance claim in any way you can for me that’d be great. i’m gonna go down to the police station and report.”
toge quickly nodded, typing again on his phone before showing him.
‘okay sounds good. i’m really really sorry and this won’t happen again.’
his manager waved him off with a smile. “don’t sweat, inumaki. i’m pretty sure i did this too when i was working except it was my works safe and not the register…”
softly chuckling, toge nodded once more and gave his manager a tiny wave as he patted his shoulder again before stepping around the glass, leaving.
regardless of being lucky enough to have such an understanding boss, toge still felt like complete and utter shit as he stood behind the counter slumped over after, on hold with the insurance company for thirty minutes now as he stared at the broken shards and the register.
you had gotten toge’s text the minute you woke up and quickly got up to get ready, not even bothering to change into anything different as you left with his pajamas on you and his little whiteboard, hopping into your car and speeding off knowing how much he needed it for work sometimes.
and when you pulled into the shops parking lot, confusedly already noticing scattered glass on the concrete walking up, you froze in front of the coffee shop upon seeing the windows and doors completely shattered— toge propping his forehead up with his palm on the counter solemnly.
“toge?”
he looked up.
“what happened?”
his shoulders dropped in relief and he slowly came around the counter, opening his arms a little and pulling you in as he buried his face into your hair, sighing.
you hugged him back. “are you okay? did this happen right now?”
he shook his head and stepped back, taking the whiteboard from you.
‘someone broke into the shop last night. but i forgot to lock up the register and cash in the money so they stole that too.’
“oh my god!” you gasped, hands flying over your mouth. “fuucckkkk was your manager mad? don’t tell me he fired you—”
toge erased and wrote before flipping the board over.
‘no just disappointed. but i still feel like such a fucking moron for forgetting and i hate that i did.’
“toge..” you sighed sadly, running your hands over his upper arms. “it’s okay you’re human baby. these things happen so don’t feel like that please..”
he nodded a little before ducking down and pressing a soft kiss to your lips.
you smiled and looked around.
“seeing the shop like this is nuts.”
he hummed in agreement.
toge stuck around for a little while, you next to him behind the counter still waiting on hold with the insurance company, feeling awfully bad for keeping you here when he knew you wanted to go shopping for a dress for the party, but him stupidly forgetting again that he couldn’t speak— too caught up in trying to make it up to his manager for his fuck up to think about how exactly he was going to talk to the insurance company on the other line, you demanding to help him.
sometime down the line when the insurance claim was filed, toge’s manager told him that if he wanted to open up the shop for the day he could, and to just sweep up the glass a little from the ground and fix up the place a little so it didn’t look like they just got robbed.
and because toge was still in his self dreaded state of guilt and shame over what happened, he immediately agreed to, trying to make up for his mistake and see if he could double the shop’s earnings for today.
“i could stay toge let me stay.” you pushed, but he only shook his head and sent you off to do the things he knew you needed to do with a pat on the head and a kiss on the cheek, telling you he’d see you at his place to get ready for the party.
but maybe toge was better off telling his manager a bit fat no and going home with you, because it was like everybody that came into the shop following that had eaten a big bag of dicks and salvaged the biggest fucking attitudes out of it to spit back in his face.
no one was understanding him. no one. not a single soul. even when he used his whiteboard to explain everything that certain customers needed, for some reason the extra effort of them having to just read putting them off and yelling and making toge’s shift a living hell.
and it’s not like he’s never managed shifts on his own either— never having an issue and still putting in and preparing orders efficiently like he was supposed to, but he figured the debacle from this morning was setting him off since he couldn’t do anything right at the moment, the attitude he was getting from literally every single fucking customer leaving him wishing he at least had one more person on the floor with him.
but toge was still blaming himself.
why couldn’t anyone understand him? why couldn’t he just speak? his life would be so much easier if he could… and you would’ve been his a long time ago.
so as toge sat there tiredly after work with his eyes closed on a stool next to you in his bathroom, you applying the finishing touches to your hair and makeup— you could practically feel toge’s exhaustion, frustration, and sadness seeping into your skin and insides over the shift he told you he had, your eyebrows pinching anxiously.
“we don’t have to go baby…” you murmured, looking down and playing with the rings on your fingers. “i would much rather stay here with you so you can relax for a little…”
he slowly peeled his eyes open, the sight of you standing there in front of him— so fucking beautiful in your dress and heels and dolled up in the way that you were, made his cheeks buzz pink as he slumped forward and mushed his cheek up against your tummy, wrapping his arms around you and shaking his head.
“are you sure?” you asked gently, running your fingers over his soft hair. “i don’t mind what we do toge… as long as with you i’m okay.”
his heart jumped as he looked up and gave you a cute smile, nodding.
you’d decided to meet in the middle and just go home early so toge could have enough rest for his shift tomorrow, him driving you both to the sorority house and parking a bit down the street amongst dozens of other cars, a little nervous and apprehensive and wondering what he was gonna do if any of your friends came up to talk to him— but the desire to make you happy and accompany you to something that you were so excited for far, far greater.
the night went smoothly for the most part, you in no time at all spotting your friend that initially invited you through the crowd along with some of your other friends that you had no idea were coming in the first place, introducing toge to each one and him giving a small smile and wave in response as he interlaced your fingers and gladly let you lead him to wherever you wanted through the dark and blue lit house, taking sips occasionally of the tequila orange liquor mix from his red solo cup and funnily from yours too— since you had gotten a different punch like flavor that he liked better.
“y/n? i didn’t know you were coming!”
your head snapped to the voice just as you were talking to toge, your eyes widening and a huge smile spreading across your face.
“oh hey! i didn’t know you were either!” you quickly turned to toge. “he’s in my sign language class the one i told you about that teaches us how to cuss—”
your friend laughed, “you talk about me y/n? interestinggg.”
toge quirked a brow.
“not like that—” you slapped his shoulder. “i talk about you so i can build up the stamina to rat you out.”
he gasped dramatically. “says the one who bothered me last class to teach her how to sign the word cunt.”
“no i didn’t— wait actually i did.”
your friend laughed again but diverted his attention momentarily to someone pulling on his arm a bit.
toge nudged you gently and you turned.
‘i’m gonna go get a drink mouse.’ he signed.
“okay!” you nodded. “i’ll wait for you here.”
he nodded, kissing your head before leaving— the kitchen not too far from where you both were originally at as he walked and threw away the drink he had initially and scanned the counter, looking for the fruity punch one you got before spotting it and picking one up from the rows of others, the smell of alcohol filling his nostrils.
“hey sorry to bother, which flavor is that?”
toge froze and looked over, a girl standing there and pointing at his cup.
oh shit.
toge pointed to his cup.
“yeah, which flavor is that one? i’ve tried the others but not that one yet.”
oh fuck.
why couldn’t he just talk?
the girl quirked a brow at his silence, and just when she was about to say something else, someone came through the kitchen.
“i think that one’s tutti frutti but i could be wrong.”
she turned to the other person and nodded, giving toge an awkward look before walking around him to get a cup for herself.
toge covered his eyes with a hand in complete fucking mortifying embarrassment, cheeks warm as he leaned against the kitchen sink in the lowest low he had ever lowed.
or so he thought.
because the sound of your loud pretty laughter had him slowly looking up and taking his hand away, you conversing so— so openly and freely with your friend from sign language triggering a hint of jealousy and bitterness in his chest. bitter as to why he was cursed to deal with something like this, bitter over the loser that was blatantly obviously flirting with you… but jealous of him that he was able to open his mouth and speak to you in whatever words and phrases he wanted, syllables flying out without any sort of pain or blood as a paying price like he had to.
that’s what you needed… that’s what you should have. not him.
not his inevitable silence and whiteboards and constant pauses, his lack of being able to tell you how much he loved you and how much you meant to him whenever, wherever… without being tied down to a marker or a phone.
his mixup from this morning, his customers not understanding him, everybody else not understanding him, has led him to believe that someone as beautiful as you shouldn’t carry the burden of even trying to.
toge knew from the very first time you came into the coffee shop that you were going to unknowingly break his heart if he let you in because of his situation… and fuck did he let you in.
and now he had to break yours so you could find and be with what you deserved.
toge walked over to you then, head down with his jaw tight and mind fogged over as you doubled over in laughter over something your friend said.
���wait—” you gasped. “wait toge he just told me that—”
“is he your boyfriend?” you friend asked, pointing to him.
well, toge still hadn’t really asked you… but he gave you a promise ring, and you were both wearing them tonight so—
your eyes snapped to toge, who was shaking his head no.
…no?
your brows furrowed.
“oh! i thought you guys were together, my bad.”
toge twitched over the way your friend sounded relieved, but you didn’t notice a thing, still looking at him with the most gutting look that made him want to scream.
“yeah.. my bad too.” you mumbled, your friend not catching it as he then got pulled by the shoulder to a different crowd, him calling over that he would come find you later on in the night.
“no?” you repeated to him.
‘come with me outside.’ he signed before slowly walking and leading you back to the kitchen and through the backyard doors, the chilling cold night air a refreshing break from the stuffiness inside.
“if this is a joke it’s not that funny toge.” you mumbled, hugging yourself as you closed the door behind you.
he looked at you sadly.
‘you shouldn’t be with me mouse.’ he signed.
“what?” you breathed out. “what are you talking about?”
‘i can’t give you what you need.’
“what i need?”
he nodded. ‘it won’t work. you and me.’
“toge—” your chest picked up speed, tears prickling a bit at your eyes. “you’re telling me all of this yet no answers— why won’t we work.”
‘you should be with someone that can talk to you and tell you that they love you and say anything without all of this baggage—’
“wait wait slow down i can’t—” you put your hands out. “you’re signing too fast i can’t understand you—”
you couldn’t understand him.
and toge realized that the reasoning he had would be something that you would counter and fight for, and something he would more than one hundred percent give in to you winning just so he could have you again.
he needed to make you hate him so it would be easier for you to move on.
toge dropped his arms, a defeated look on his face as he shoved a hand in his pocket for his phone, typing out a message to you.
you received it on the other end, your phone illuminating your face as you opened it.
(toge :D): i realized after we confessed that this isn’t what i want anymore and im sorry
your jaw dropped, eyes narrowing as you looked up at him.
“what the fuck do you mean.”
his thumbs shook as he typed, his heart pulling and screaming at the muscles and nerves tied to them for him to stop.
(toge :D): we’re better off as just friends. i’m really sorry that i realized after the fact. you deserve someone better anyways and i just don’t think it’s with me.
you let out a sob that ripped him to shreds, hand coming over your mouth in disbelief as you stared at the blurry screen in your grasp.
he realized this after the fact? after messing around with you for almost three years? after confessing to you and saying he loves you? after being intimate?
you felt fucking used.
“you’re realizing this now?” you shook your head. “toge— you realize we’ve been flirting like this for as long as we’ve known each other and all of a sudden you’re pulling back? after you got your fucking fill? after kissing me and telling me that you love me, and— and after—”
you ran an exasperated trembling hand through your hair. “toge we had sex and you’re telling me this isn’t what you want?”
god this is everything he wants.
but toge bit his tongue, him strained all over with a locked painful jaw as you yelled at him, his eyes glossy over how much he was hurting you as he stiffly nodded.
you stepped closer, jabbing a finger to his chest. “look at me in the eyes right now and tell me if our entire fucking friendship before leading up to our bullshit confessions was all a lie. tell me right now if this—” you held your hand up, the promise ring he gave you shimmering under the fairy lights of the backyard. “—was a lie when you promised me that you would always help me and love me.”
toge breathed in and out shakily, swallowing thickly as he slowly nodded, his entire body in absolute detriment.
holy fucking shit.
how long had you been this stupid for you to not realize the kind of person he actually was?
but— but it didn’t make any sense. this wasn’t toge. this wasn’t toge at all you didn’t know who the fuck you were yelling at right now because toge would never do this to you.
“do you know why i’m learning sign language in the first place?”
toge blinked back tears, shaking his head no.
“i started taking sign language for you, asshole!” you sobbed. “when i was stupidly crushing on you at the shop before we talked for the first time, i noticed you knew sign language and i signed up for you so it’d be easier for you to communicate with me without always having to use your whiteboard.”
he felt a pang to his heart, harshly wiping his eyes.
“but even then i don’t fucking care toge! you could have absolutely nothing to talk to me with and i’d still love you and do anything for you because that’s how much i’m in love you!”
you sobbed as your shoulders shook violently, hands covering your eyes.
“glad to know the feelings not mutual.”
oh he takes it back.
he takes it all back.
toge reached for your hands and you pushed him away.
“you’re so full of shit toge.” you sniffled. “if this is what you want then fine. take this fucking—”
you slipped the ring off from your finger and threw it at him, the feeling of it thudding against his chest and clinking to the ground beneath his feet close enough to a damn bullet.
he shook his head frantically, picking up your ring and following you up the steps of the porch, grabbing your hand and pulling you back, but you only shaking it off and trudging on forward.
“mouse—” he spoke. “please stop—”
the sound of his rare voice made you freeze in place, unmoving and feeling guilt pool in your stomach at the sound of him reeling over and coughing violently as a result.
he spoke to you… but his dreaded words from earlier still lingered in your mind, betrayal etched into your chest like a tattoo.
“don’t call me that.” you mumbled over your shoulder, swinging the door open to the kitchen and slamming it shut.
toge heard nothing from you for four weeks.
even through all of the calls and texts he sent you, he started to conclude that you actually blocked his number the moment you left him that night, unable to see his actual explanation through the masses of messages he sent you and still continued to even after confirming the thought that you had blocked him.
he couldn’t believe himself. he couldn’t believe he actually hurt you and drove you away like that.
and toge had never felt so much self hatred, missing you like fucking crazy throughout those weeks— it reminding him of that one time when you first started getting to know each other where you disappeared for a week, except far far worse now that you had both built so much together over the years.
his life felt empty now that you weren’t in it.
and funnily enough, his job— something he had gotten before you, now solely reminding him of you as he tried to work without throwing something over the random flashbacks he’d have of that night, blending and serving drinks and sliding them over the pickup counter all meaningless if you weren’t there at your usual table to give him a cheeky smile and sign the word ‘cheese’ to make him laugh on the other side.
his little mouse.
and toge silently cried almost every night at his desk, him clutching your ring.
you were basically the same way as him, if not fucking lower as you were the one that was practically presumably dumped and used, you unable to sleep for hours on end in your bed and your parents wondering what the hell happened between the two of you as they tried to console your tears through your restless nights, you half in denial that this was your reality and toge was out of your life.
after some time, you realized that you had left nearly half of your things in toge’s apartment, it settling into your mind how much time you actually spent with him and not at your own house as you constantly found yourself needing things but couldn’t have them because they were over there— one of those things unfortunately being your freaking sign language textbook.
there was absolutely no way you could get it, and you opted to borrowing your friends for the longest time… but by the time you reached the beginning of the fifth week without toge, you started feeling really bad for continuously bothering your friend for her book when you could just suck it up and get yours.
so you made your jumbled mind up and reached for your phone one day after your morning class, going to toge’s contact number and unblocking him before texting.
(you): hi. sorry to bother but i left some things in your apartment that i need. i was wondering if i could come by today to get them.
toge nearly jumped out of his skin at your pretty name flashing across his phone while he was lazily and depressingly laying in bed, scrambling to type back not even a minute later.
(toge): yes of course
(toge): i’m home right now if you want to come
(toge): and you’re never a bother
you pursed your lips, a lump building in your throat.
(you): okay. i’ll be there in a few minutes.
toge flung his scattered clothing inside his closet or literally anywhere that was out of eyesight, trying to turn his rut of a room back to how it looked like when you were always here, shaking out a big garbage bag and throwing all of his trash in there (along with all of the cake pop, cheese danish, and blueberry scone wrappers…), opening the blinds and straightening out his sheets.
you pulled into his apartment complex parking lot and parked not too long after, your hands drenched in sweat and your body rigid as you came up to his floor and over to his apartment number, knocking even though you had the key.
you almost turned back to leave once you heard his padded footsteps, but decided against is as he was already opening the door.
and my god, seeing him hurt a lot more than you thought it would.
his eyes were soft as they looked at you, and red like yours, him quickly stepping to the side to let you in and you doing so with your head down, not saying a single word.
“i think—” you shakily spoke, eyes already watering as he closed his door with a click. “i think i’m just gonna get my sign language textbook for now i’ll come back some other time for the rest—”
you felt a little tug at your hand, and you turned, his shoulders slumping at your teary eyes, stray droplets slipping down your cheeks already.
‘please don’t cry.’ he signed. ‘i’m so sorry for everything.’
you snorted, shaking your head as you reached behind you to get your textbook.
“sorry for stringing me along and using every part of me until you were bored? sure.”
he frantically shook his head no, panic rising in his chest as he watched you step around him and head for the door.
he couldn’t let you leave.
because he had a feeling if he did, he actually would never see you again.
toge quickly grabbed your wrist and tugged you back around.
“what toge—”
‘stay for a bit.’ he shakily signed. ‘please just stay and let me explain.’
you followed his signage, and your eyes narrowed. “explain what? there’s nothing to explain—”
toge swiped his phone from his bed and opened it, going to your contact to type out a message.
you hesitantly pulled yours out and waited, your phone vibrating against your hand once he sent it over.
(toge): i lied about absolutely everything i said that night. i don’t think any of those things at all. i’ve wanted you so fucking bad from the start y/n, i’ve been ready to be with you i don’t think for a second we’re better off as friends i want more with you always and for the rest of my life.
what?
he sent another message.
(toge): i said what i said because throughout our friendship i told myself like a fucking idiot that i couldn’t let you all the way in because i can’t talk. i kept thinking that you needed someone who you can talk to you whenever you want without having to always step back and read or write like you have to with me. i didn’t want you to carry that baggage and deal with me and i just felt like a burden, and i love you so fucking much that i wanted better for you.
you sniffled and wiped your cheeks, you rubbing away lonesome tears that landed on your phone screen.
(toge): but i’m selfish baby i’ve BEEN selfish. i said those horrible things to you so it’d be easier for you to move on and im so sorry. none of them are true. i don’t want you to move on from me. i didn’t use you i could never and that night we had sex was the most meaningful experience of my life. i love you more than anything in my life, and im gonna be selfish again and please ask you to come back to me. you’re my best friend and more, and i still believe that you need someone better and that can give you more than i can, but i just can’t let you go man i’ve been physically sick for four weeks without you.
you cried still and he typed again.
(toge): i’m selfish and i’m in love with you mouse. i’m sorry.
“toge!” you cried and chucked your phone to his bed, flinging your arms around his neck and pulling him in a tight embrace— the weight completely lifting off both of your shoulders at the feeling of your bodies pressed against each others like a perfect little key in a lock, toge hugging you back so so fucking tight with his face in your neck that he practically squeezed the air out of your lungs entirely.
“i love you.” he spoke, his words incredibly powerful in your ear even though it couldn’t have been more than a mere whisper, the sound and depth of his voice ringing through your head and one you wanted to remember forever and ever, feeling so incredibly loved over the fact that he’d use his voice for you even when it hurt him so much.
but he really didn’t need to. you just wanted him.
and you’ve never been so happy to hear someone tell you that they lied.
toge pulled back a bit and turned his head to the side, stuffing his mouth into the crook of his elbow and coughing.
you pressed your cheek against his once he was done, kissing it a few times beforehand and him closing his eyes at the feeling of your lips on his skin after so long.
“you okay?” you murmured softly, and he nodded.
“i love you too, toge.” you tightened your arms around his neck. “please don’t ever think that you’re a burden or giving me baggage to carry. i’ve never ever felt that way and neither should you.”
you stepped back and cupped his cheeks.
“i need you, baby. i don’t need anything or anyone else but you. someone that has the ability to talk can’t give me even ten percent of what you’ve been giving me. i’m happy with you. the happiest i’ve ever been is when i’m with you… okay?”
toge grinned, huge and shiny as he nodded and leaned forward and captured your lips in a kiss— the both of you utterly deprived as your mouths smacked and moved in haste, his hands running and squeezing over your body with labored breathing between the two of you.
he pulled apart for a second and you stopped.
“what baby?” you breathed, watching as he raised his arms.
‘please be my girlfriend mouse.’ he signed. ‘or i’ll die.’
you giggled cutely and a blush rose on both of your sore cheeks from smiling so much, you happily nodding and roughly pulling him back in to continue.
and how lucky was toge to have such a sweet little mouse that cared for him this much? for someone who couldn’t even speak? who had the greatest level of patience and not once ever complained about the burden she had to carry?
you learned sign language for him. solely for him. the reasons he was thinking about how he’d be baggage to you, was amazingly the total opposite on your end, as you didn’t want to be baggage to him when it came down to communication with you— as if something like that were ever even possible.
and you learned sign language for him— a totally beautiful and different and complex language that was iterated through the feeling of arms and body, to be read across with purposeful moving hands and symbols and diligent fingers— somehow looking even more beautiful when it was you that was doing it.
silence was toge’s greatest form of love… one that you received with open arms and acceptance without a twinge of judgement in your heart, and one that toge only ever wanted you to receive.
you.
his little mouse.
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taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):
@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @fushigurioo @wil10wthetree @jameinfrau @pancakeszs @drftnzume @k0z3me @k4zivy @dindjarins1ut @starrnai @tinyray-lovesfood @iloveoldermenn @dazqa @applepi25 @aria-chikage @blu3-l0v3r @rose-tlnted-kalopsia
if you asked to be on my taglist but i missed you please let me know!! and also let me know if i accidentally tagged you but you didn’t ask GAHAHA LOVE YOUU
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jymwahuwu · 8 months ago
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-You play a stripping game with Aventurine! See how much you can win?
cw: yandere, dub-con, manipulative behavior, naive, drunk reader, reader has female reproductive system, creampie, getting stripped naked after playing games
"What? Did that customer really say that? This is so silly!" You held a wine glass with ice in one hand and giggled drunkenly. And Aventurine is sitting next to you now. He confirmed your question, causing you to snicker again. He adds the sweet golden liquid to your cup. "That's right - I always advised them not to… Who would have thought that that business would become so exaggerated?"
"Hmm, that's enough, that's enough…" You took another sip of wine, leaned on his table, turned your head, smiled, and looked at the outline of his face. It's been weeks since you talked to Aventurine like this, in his villa. But once you meet him, there is an endless stream of things to say, maybe this is the precious friendship.
"Anyway, how about playing a game when you have free time?" he suggested.
You got interested and asked him what his game was. Aventurine held up your palm and explained the rules to you several times. You nodded, but you didn't really understand. "Okay, okay, how many credits should we bet?"
"It's vulgar to talk about money all the time, my friend." He smiled and held up a finger. "How about taking off one piece of clothing after losing a round?"
"Take off… clothes?" You tilted your head… closed your eyes and shook your head. "ah?"
Aventurine said in surprise. "It's a popular game. Didn't you know?"
"I-Of course I know!!" You raised your voice, pretending you already knew everything. Thinking of the value of his outfit… "Hmph, I can take away your hundreds of thousands of outfits soon."
"1, 6, 2!"
"6, 6, 6!"
"It's time to take off your clothes." He raised his chin and reminded. You snorted, removing a jacket and throwing it on his couch.
"4, 5, 6!"
"6, 6, 6!"
"What?" You picked up the three dice, checked and struck them from different angles, but there was nothing strange about them. "Did you cheat? Why are the results always so incredible?" Aventurine chuckled and shrugged. "I told you before that I'm very lucky, don't you believe me?"
"Ah, okay…" You reluctantly stared at his exquisite attire, which he had never taken off, and then looked down at your own graphic t-shirt and shorts, which were pulled up so that the bra and the breasts wrapped inside were exposed to the air. Embarrassment tugs at your heart and you try to fight back. "Next round! I don't believe you can beat me!"
2, 1, 1.
6, 6, 6.
If question marks could pop up in reality, a thousand question marks would have popped up above your head. You stare at the results in disbelief. How could Aventurine be so lucky? You can't even take one of his watches or rings? And are you so defeated now that you have to take off either your bra or panties?
"I-I won't play anymore. Boring game!" You bluffed, asking to get your clothes back, but Aventurine raised his eyebrow. "Awwww, it seems there is a coward here…"
"Who are you calling a coward?"
"You didn't keep your bet."
You are not a coward! You took back the hand holding the clothes and tremblingly touched your underwear and bra. Which one should you take off? If you lose again, will you really be completely naked? How do you get home? In the midst of your thoughts and drunkenness, you settled on a bra, but then covered your bare breasts with your hands. "Humph, now is the beginning of my victory!"
Victory? Aventurine almost laughed out loud, holding back the ridicule rising in her throat, knowing that you might leave in a huff, and all the previous arrangements would be ineffective. You open a dice simulator from the Internet to avoid possible cheating from Aventurine.
5, 1, 3.
6, 6, 6.
…It’s really…BEYOND WEIRD. How on earth is this possible? Is Aventurine walking on some lucky path you don't know and being protected by the lucky Aeon? But anyway, now you have to take off your panties and keep your promise. Now you were completely naked, in his villa, in front of your friend.
"Hey! You... don't have to do this... " You watched as Aventurine put them all in a box and locked it up. These clothes…are no longer your property. "There's no way I'm going home naked!"
"Didn't someone just say they were going to take my clothes away? I thought you were serious?" He chuckled, pulled your arm, and guided you onto his lap. With your brain like a drunken fog and embarrassment, you knelt on the sofa in confusion, your legs spread apart, and the luxurious sofa sank. A gentle kiss. Bring some hot air. Like an electric shock. "Umm…"
"Too bad your clothes won't come back, but you can win a new set by…"
Aventurine's thumb rubbed against your hot cheek for half a minute before he reluctantly unbuttoned his pants and took out his long, swollen and erect cock, the glans teasing your slit. You whimpered, placing your hands on his chest, and the glans stretched your folds and the warm inside of your vagina. "I…"
This is really more incredible than these rounds of dice. You were bouncing on his cock, moaning and sobbing in ecstasy. His hand cupped your ass, occasionally slapping it in exchange for you squeezing his cock unconsciously, while rubbing your clit with his other hand.
As the cream spurts into your body, ecstatic bliss fills you. You tighten your limbs, your butt trembles, and you wrap your hands around his neck, gasping for air.
"You win. I'll give you a new set when you wake up, okay?"
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princessbrunette · 10 months ago
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the guys dont believe that bunny!reader is always looking for dick from rafe all the time until one day when topper throws a party him, rafe, reader, and kelce are all sitting down somewhere and reader is like all over rafe. im talking kissing him all over, straddling him, lightly humping him and rafe isnt even batting an eye at her. the only people distracted are the guys because they didn’t believe she was like that !
-🏹
⊹ . ⁺ 🐰⋅˚₊𐙚
rafes busy dealing, and he’s so used to your clingy antics that he doesn’t feel the need to stop what he’s doing to attend to you when really you’re more than happy to attend to yourself!
he sits round a table with his friends at a party, lines of coke splayed out and a couple of customers hovering around them as they talk. as rafe counts the wad of cash in his hands, you appear silently beside him, all tipsy and pliant as you straddle his thigh.
“theres the princess.” topper grins, and there’s more greetings in tow but you don’t pay them any mind, focusing on wrapping your arms around rafes neck, pressing glossy kisses to his jaw. rafe barely reacts of course, shifting you effortlessly to be out his way where you sit and continuing to count.
“fifty…sixty—” he mutters before speaking up, locking eyes with the crowd once more. “you know if you really want that good shit you’re gonna have to cough up a little more than that. i don’t think you’re gettin’ it, this is the best fuckin’ yayo around — like, you’re not gonna find better in this part of the island. trust that.” he talks it up, doing his thing as the party goers start to dig into their wallets, your boyfriends charismatic ways having sold them.
you wiggle on his thigh, pressing your covered cunt harder into the crevice and letting out a soft needy groan against his skin, hands running down his chest. rafe’s eyes flicker down to you once he was sure he’d made the sale, gently adjusting you on his lap. “don’t care ‘bout an audience, do you bun? jesus.” he mutters the offhand comment, patting your ass before continuing.
kelce snickers, nudging toppers arm as the two shake their head in disbelief at your antics. “i need to get me one of those freaks.” kelce decides, making rafes head perk up, turning towards his friend as he leans across slightly, taking money from one of the other party goers wanting to chip in.
“yeah good luck with that, my girls a one of a kind. should be keepin’ your eyes to yourself anyway.”
⊹ . ⁺ 🐰⋅˚₊𐙚
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bluecollarmcandtf · 2 months ago
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Dating a ghost isn't easy...
I love my boyfriend. I really do, but his death has put a strain on our relationship. At least Halloween is close which means his spirit is close too. Like always, I spend lunch alone at our favorite cafe, waiting for him to fill the empty seat next to me. I jump when a burly worker throws his heavy frame down, blaring a husky, "Hey sexy! Give your man a smile!"
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"Danny?" I ask, shaken by the guy's abrupt arrival and more-than-rough countenance.
"The name's Gordon," he bellows back, draping his dirty arms and legs aggressively outward, "But yeah, it's me sugar, your dead boyfriend. I thought you'd appreciate me showing up in a hunky body of the working man!" He flexes one of his thick arms and flashes challenging looks at some of the nearby customers.
His crass words make me shudder. My Danny was soft-spoken, charming, and thoughtful: nothing like the rude, stinking gorilla in front of me. Sure, a big hairy construction worker like this is great to fantasize about, but it's less exciting when that hulking body is sitting right there. His cocky mannerisms, sour body odor, and wandering eyes that seem to undress everyone they land on: it all adds to the growing pit in my stomach.
"You just gonna stare, sweet-lips?" he goes on, snickering with Gordon's deep timbre, "Spent the morning jackhammering the sidewalk, but now I could hammer your organs out!"
"Danny!" I blush, checking to see if anyone overheard. They're already staring, probably wondering why this guy sat down at this nice cafe caked in mud, "Can you cool it with this Gordon-the-macho-construction-worker vibe? I know you can't help it, but it's a bit much!"
"Fuck! Just shut up and kiss me already," he grunts, leading his heavy body covered in sweat with puckered lips in my direction.
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"Danny sto-OH!" I can't help but melt into the bulky embrace. With arms like Gordon's, I don't have much choice, and though his breath smells like cigarettes and his skin is slick with sweat, I enjoy finally kissing my boyfriend again even if it is through the mouth of some ridiculously unmannered construction worker. At least I've got my boyfriend back!
"That's my boy," he growls low in my ear, and I feel a strong hand squeeze my ass tightly through its filthy work glove. Fuck! Danny is so assertive inside this Gordon character.
"Babe, please not here," I wheeze from the effort of escaping the intensely strong grip, "And not with Gordon. Aren't you tired of being an dumb, hairy ape yet?"
"Not at all!" he announces as he reclines in his seat, almost yelling with Gordon's loud voice.
I shake my head, admittedly feeling more and more amused by this rough-around-the-edges giant. Ever since Danny passed away and started possessing people, I realized hopping into bodies wasn't like the movies. He didn't just jump into some dude and take over, his soul became entwined with that other person. All of his hosts have personalities, memories, and habits that bleed into Danny as long as he's wearing them. Honestly, more of the host shines through than my actual boyfriend does, but regardless of who he possesses, his love for me is never affected. I suppose that's enough to put up with some of the more unpleasant quirks of each guy he takes over.
"I don't mind walkin' around in Gordo's boots," he grins at me, obviously at home in the man's sun-dried skin, "But lemme see if I can find a cleaner stiff to hop in for ya."
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With that, Danny hoists himself off chair. I swear every move he makes in that body is startling, shaking the table with the ruckus of his tool belt being carelessly whipped around. Seeing the burly worker stand there with his hands on his hips makes me almost regret suggesting he swap out of the body. Sure the mud, sweat, and body hair makes my skin itch, but imagining that thug attacking me with his careless dominance is turning me on: not to mention the tight ass beneath that denim.
"Lunch break is almost over. Needa head back to the yard," he growls and then catches himself, "I mean Gordon does. I'll be back in someone else to finish this fuckin' date!"
"You're a real working man, Gordon," I tease, understanding this character a bit better "I'm sure you're the big boss on site."
"You bet yer ass, I am," he thumbs his chest proudly, "Someone's gotta keep the guys runnin' smoothly. Who else gonna do it?"
"Well I'll let you get back to work. Hopefully I'll run into you again. Maybe at home tonight?"
"Hell yeah!" he bursts, "I'll hop in this guy later, so I can take a look at your plumbing. Anything you need! ...I'll be your handyman, baby!"
"Hope you don't mind getting your hands dirty," I wink, and he flashes me one last wild grin from Gordon's face. That grin falters, and the construction worker shudders. His eyes still stare at me, but I can tell they don't recognize me anymore. Danny's left his body.
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"Uh, sorry 'bout that," the real Gordon mumbles, "Dunno what came over me."
"Don't worry about it."
"We know each other?" he asks, pawing at his head in desperate confusion, "We been chattin' like we do. Only just realized I don't think I know you like I thought I did." The poor guy's mind is probably racing with conflicting ideas.
The laborer chuckles nervously. I can tell Gordon is completely unsure about what he's been doing. Danny seems to have that effect on his hosts. Understand that they're still conscious while he possesses them; his thoughts just merge with their own. So, right now, Gordon the rough-neck construction worker is trying to reconcile the fact that he's been thinking of me as his boyfriend for the last twenty minutes. The poor guy's probably never had a gay thought in his life! Yet he just spent his break flirting with some random guy at a random cafe. He even kissed me, and I'm pretty sure Danny was imagining some rather homoerotic things with that guy's head.
"Sorry, man," I shrug, pretending to be just as clueless as he is.
"Fuckin' queer," his face hardens into a glare before he leaves our inexplicable lunch date.
"See you tonight, Gordo!" I call lightheartedly.
The construction worker gives me an intense scowl, but I can see blushing cheeks under that matted beard. Danny definitely had some sexual thoughts while possessing that guy, and Gordon seems completely embarrassed that those thoughts were in his head. Well, his opinion on the subject will completely change once again tonight when Danny hops back in.
"Afternoon, sir," a voice hums to my right, "Got some time to thank me for my service?"
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"Danny?" I immediately gasp.
"In the flesh," the policeman flirts with a cool voice, "At least, in your hometown hero's flesh." Danny enjoys a sip of coffee and shoots me a smile from the man's sparkling white teeth.
"Uh, are you sure you should be inside a cop," I whisper, leaning in so our fellow cafe-goers won't hear. They were already staring when a big blue-collar bear sat opposite me, but now their intrigue is growing from this man of the law. It doesn't help that this cop is a local celebrity! Nearly everyone's seen him on the news. With a face like that, it's no wonder the force chose him for public relations.
"Allow me to introduce myself," he extends a capable hand, "The name's Officer Steele."
"Well, officer," I try not to swoon too hard as Danny forcefully shakes my palm, "I'm-"
"You're my lover," he interjects warmly, "I know you like a man in uniform, sir. Why not enjoy the best guy this town has in uniform?"
"Wow, I..." I fumble, "...yup. Are you sure I'm not keeping you from anything important?"
"I've got patrol duty today," he nonchalantly answers, "But the town’s quiet. Besides, a guy’s gotta take a break sometime, right? Can’t be all work and no play." The officer's sneer is dripping with pride, clearly keeping a high opinion of himself! I doubt this man would be so open if Danny weren't in their making Steele think I'm his lover. Who knew the cop was as arrogant as he was charming?
"Aren't your fellow police counting on you to protect and serve, officer?"
"Oh sir, I can show you how well I protect and serve. And my men know better than to question me. I mean, look at me. Who else is gonna chase down the perps? Certainly not those doughnut-loving desk jockeys.” Steele stares me down with a confident, haughty look as he rises out of the chair. It's hard to do anything but listen and watch when Danny's wearing a guy like this. His eyes grip me in a trance while his fingers undo his shirt buttons.
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"Like what you see, sir?" Officer Steele smirks.
I can only answer with a dumb nod as I drink in the sight of his chiselled torso. Somehow the dusting of blonde fur only defines his perfect musculature further. At this point, everyone in the cafe has stopped to gawk at the cop stripping in the middle of their lunch.
"You make one hell of a cop, Danny," I breathe.
"It's Officer Steele, remember?" he winks, and bounces his pecs, rippling the fabric dangling off his shoulders, "I work out twice a day, before and after my shift. Sure it helps keep the town safe, but I also just like the citizens of this town to see me as the hot, muscular cop of their dreams. I love their eyes on me when I pull them over or walk past on patrol. They're always intimidated, jealous, or turned on."
With this Danny looks around at the people around him, matching their stunned expressions. I'll admit that I'm a little surprised by how vulnerable my boyfriend is getting with this cop's inner thoughts. Maybe this is all how Steele actually feels, but I doubt the officer would want to share it with the world!
"Maybe we should slow down," I suggest.
"Do I need to get out my handcuffs, sir," the cop purrs, his tone sharpening as he steps closer, "I'm used to having a good girl waiting for me at home, but I want that to be you tonight. Men are a whole lot more capable than women afterall. I'll be late from the gym, but I'd like supper ready. Think you can handle that?" His big hands hold me squarely at the shoulders while he stares down in my eyes. For a second I'm lost in the proximity of his handsome face and statuesque muscles.
That's when I notice the ring.
"Jesus, Danny!" I chastise.
"It's Officer Steele!"
"No! Jump out! You hopped into a married man!" Honestly, part of me is relieved to find something wrong. Officer Hadley was starting to freak me out, and now that I know he's married to a woman, his sexist comments are starting to make a lot more sense.
"Oh, come on," the cop rolls his eyes, "She doesn't have to know. You're my boyfriend, anyway! You won't find a hotter guy than me!"
I put my foot down and give Steele a look, appealing to the Danny I know is somewhere inside him. Like I'd hoped, he relents and let's out one more sigh of frustration. Then the cop's meticulously trained body shivers and his eyes lose their intense focus. In seconds, Danny's spirit slips out of the cocky cop.
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"Woah!" Officer Steele gasps, "Why did I do that?" He looks just as confused as Gordon did, frantically trying to button up his shirt and lose the attention of everyone in the cafe.
"Beats me," I play dumb, "Hope your wife doesn't hear about this."
"No!" the cop stomps over, "That wasn't what happened. I wasn't...coming on to you or anything. I'm not even into men!"
"Seemed like you were..." I press.
"I don't know what I was thinking. I'm going home to my wife tonight. You are not..." Steele glances around warily before whispering, "...my boyfriend. Got it!"
"Of course, Officer," I assure him, enjoying the rapid crumbling of his confident swagger.
The policeman lingers around the cafe to collect himself and straighten up his uniform. I can tell he'd like to say a few more words before leaving, but he thinks twice with the crowd of witnesses and strides off forcefully. I wonder if a guy like that would lash out if we weren't in such a public place. His poor wife better watch out tonight. I can't believe my Danny was inside a guy like that! The thought of his good-natured demeanor mixing with that man's entitlement and aggression makes me sick; not to mention his antiquated ideas about gender roles!
That's what's always so tricky about dating my boyfriend through a neverending series of hosts. Sure, I get to sleep with a rotation of the hottest characters I want, but the bad gets mixed in there too. I have to put up with his body's offensive ideas, mean comments, and weird behavior. I know I can't blame Danny for it, but while he's possessing those guys, those are his thoughts as much as they are theirs. It's just unsettling.
"Sorry about that," I hear behind me.
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"You're in the waiter now?" I feign a smile, unable to hide how tired I've grown.
Now that the cafe is rid of the policeman and construction worker, the atmosphere of the place seems to go back to normal. People turn their attention back to the food on their plates or the screens on their phones.
"Can I get you another cup? It's on the house," the cafe server tries to lighten the mood.
"Danny, I'm just tired..." I admit, "Wait, what's the name now?"
"It's Josh," the waiter replies, "But I am sorry about being inside that cop. I just want tonight to be special you know. That's why I've been combing the town for the biggest, hottest guys to jump in. You deserve the best!"
"Josh...Danny, you don't need to give me the best. Sure it'd be fun to mess around with you inside Gordon or Officer Steele, but right now I want you to be in someone that makes me feel like it used to. I miss you, the real you."
"I guess I really did pick some bad ones today," the waiter chuckles, smiling with dimples in his cheeks, "I felt so manly and tough in Gordon; like I didn't give a shit about anyone except my man. In Steele I felt so cocky and sure of myself, and honestly a little too entitled to you. It's hard to realize if I'm in the wrong with each of these guys. In their heads, they all believe themselves to be right, and I can't help but think the same in the moment."
"I know," I sigh, frustrated by the influence these guys have over my ghost boyfriend, "How do you feel in Josh the waiter."
Danny perks up in the cafe worker's body. I have to admit that this guy's energy is infectious, and he's far from bad looking. His broad shoulders look perfect for hugging, and he smells faintly of coffee. I don't know how I never noticed him working here before. I must've been preoccupied, looking for ghosts, to miss a charming barista like Josh.
"I have to admit something," Danny says with Josh's sweet tone, "I've got a crush on you. Had it for awhile. You're the hot guy that always sits here during lunch."
"Well, I'd hope you have a crush on me. You are my boyfriend afterall," I snort.
"No, I, Josh, have a crush on you," he smiles.
"Oh," I'm at a loss for words. Somehow this feels like a whole new can of worms. I'm flattered, but unsure. Is it weird if I flirt with someone that has a crush on me while my boyfriend is inside them? They're both conscious right now, so it's genuine right? But am I really flirting with Josh as long as Danny is in there too. Does flirting with another guy while your boyfriend is possessing him count as cheating? I can't even keep track anymore.
I don't have time to think before Josh/Danny has rushed over and pulled me into his arms. It feels just as good as I imagined to be in the waiter's embrace, and it feels even better to kiss. This guy, this Josh, seems romantic, kind-hearted, and gleeful; he reminds me of what it was like when Danny was alive. Before I know it, my boyfriend/new crush is clocking out of work and leading me to his car, holding me close, and whispering in my ear, "Happy Halloween, babe."
I love the spooky season.
493 notes · View notes
lisired · 9 months ago
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where angels fear to tread
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pairing: jaehyun x (f) reader
genre/warnings: fwb to lovers, fluff, implied smut, angst
summary: Three years ago, you had a summer fling with Jung Jaehyun, and what was simply sex turned into more after you caught feelings for him. Then, you find out he has a girlfriend, and decide to call it quits. Three years later, he's back in town, trying to come back in your life, and most importantly trying to come back into your heart, but you're a little hesitant to let him.
word count: 14.5k
a/n: i think this was my first jaehyun fic? LOL… as always, feedback is appreciated!
“Not fair.”
“It’s very much fair, Jaemin.”
“How come the blueberry head gives you shit on the house? I asked him for a free coffee and he told me the only way I was getting coffee for free was if he splashed it on my face. Very unprofessional. I demand the manager.”
You want to tell him that the manager would just suck up to Taeyong in private because the customer is always wrong, but something in you tells you to be quiet.
“Saved his life,” you shrug, digging a fork into your pie.
“Saved his life?” Jaemin repeats, wide-eyed, “you just said that like it was the most normal thing ever.”
“I don’t think he would have actually died,” you mutter, but decide to tell the tale anyway, “You remember when I told you I was taking a two-week vacation out of town because Yeri invited me and some of her friends to her stepdad’s beach house?” Jaemin nods, “Well Taeyong was one of those friends. Saved him from drowning in the pool, and ever since he thinks he owes me his life, so he gives me a lifetime worth of stuff on the house.”
You consider Jaemin your best friend, although him not physically being with you for the past two years was the reason why he’s unaware of some minor details of your life during those years. Of course, he knew about the vacation—you had so much fun that you told him nearly every damn detail of it—but there was still some things you kept to yourself. Such as how you saved Taeyong from drowning. You thought that you’d look like a praise-seeker for bringing that up anyway.
You scan the room for Taeyong (the blueberry head) and once your eyes find him, you wave and wink. He waves back and smiles bashfully, before tending to one of his customers. You also think that Taeyong might have a little crush on you, but that’s not relevant at the moment.
“Oh wow. I guess not all heroes wear capes. Some heroes wear pie crumbs on their mouths.”
You wipe the corner of your mouth with a napkin then squeeze it into a ball to throw at Jaemin, making him gasp dramatically and start rambling about how you shouldn’t treat the best friend you haven’t seen in two years like this, but the chime of the cafe door distracts you. Your face falls in horror, and you’re still as a statue as it all races back. The pain, the memories, the emotions, everything you gave him that you can’t take back.
“I have to go,” you say, but Jaemin grabs your wrist.
His voice is filled to the brim with concern, “What’s wrong?”
Where you do even start? You sigh, ducking your head on the table in an attempt to cover your face the best that you can. The past is intertwining with the present and you do not enjoy it one bit. Fortunately, he sits away from you and doesn’t seem to acknowledge your presence in the room, but it’s just your luck that for the first time you’re seeing him in almost two years, he chooses to show up right here, right now.
“See that guy that just walked in?”
Jaemin nods with reluctance, subtly scanning said guy with his eyes, “Yeah, what about him?”
With a deep breath, you brace yourself for uncovering a part of your past that you’d rather keep ancient history, “Remember that fling I told you about from the vacation? That was him. And I never told you this, but we didn’t exactly end on the best of terms. I called it quits when I found out that he had a girlfriend.”
Another one of the vay-cay details that you kept to yourself. Technically, you did tell him about the fling, but it was nothing too specific aside from the fact that you were getting dicked down. You never told him about the way things abruptly ended, and you sure as hell never told him that you caught feelings for a cheater.
Jaemin’s face falls, and you’re not sure why. You think that he’s offended because you never told him about something so huge (and he is, but the two of you have bigger fish to fry at the moment so he decides it best to complain later).
Eyebrows furrowed, you ask, “What’s wrong?”
“Jaehyun is…” he pauses, and your lips part to ask how he knows his name until, “Jaehyun is my roommate.”
If you had the energy, you would sigh. Of course, Jaehyun also happens to move back in town and ultimately transfer back into your college for the second semester. You had to be a criminal in your past life, what else could you have possibly done to deserve something like this?
Taeyong walks over to your table, wearing a discontent frown, “Jaehyun’s here, do you want me to distract him so that you can leave without him noticing?”
“No way the blueberry head knew about this before me.” Ah, there it goes.
Taeyong glares, but he doesn’t say anything, instead locking his eyes on you to catch your response and his face softens when he does.
“Please,” you sigh in relief, “Thanks Tae, you’re a lifesaver.”
Taeyong smiles at the weight of your words, “It’s the least I could do. Now you two get out of here.”
It isn’t something that you need to be told twice, Taeyong goes to distract Jaehyun and you two bolt the fuck out of there. Though even out of sight, Jaehyun isn’t out of mind. In the beginning you knew it was nothing serious, Jaehyun had other girls that he fucked. But the fact that he was cheating on some poor, innocent girl was more then you could handle, and it would be selfish of you to risk getting caught up in that mess.
For a while, you and Jaemin ride in near silence. It’s your car, but he claims you aren’t in the right headspace to drive and you didn’t argue. You don’t feel the best at the moment.
“Is this a bad time to invite you to my roommate’s Summer Break Kick-off party this Friday,” Jaemin asks over the radio, his voice cutting through the SHINee song playing lowly.
“Kinda,” you snort. “Is he coming?”
“Probably, yeah. I mean, he was invited. But my roommate’s other house is pretty big it’s been forever since we last partied.”
You blink. Why does your roommate…
“Don’t question it. I don’t know either.”
You fight the urge to laugh. Instead, you weigh out the pros and cons. Technically, you and Jaemin could always find another place to party if you wanted to so bad, and even if the house was big, there’s still a fair chance of you running into the one man you dread ever seeing again. You aren’t too sure if that’s something that you’re ready to risk right now.
You sigh again, pressing your face against the car window. “I’ll think about it.”
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You haven’t stepped foot in a place this expensive-looking since Yeri invited you on that little summer vacation to her stepdad’s beach house (two years ago.)
Jaemin somehow managed to convince you to show up by pinky promising to do a week’s worth of your assignments next semester, and you’d be a fool for turning that offer down. It isn’t clear from the outside, but academically Jaemin is sharp. So now, you’re searching for Jaemin in a sea full of red plastic cups. He was right, the house is humongous, and now you’re really beginning to question why someone with this kind of fortune at their fingertips lives with three presumably broke college students.
At least they’re playing SHINee. That way you can sing along to your favorite boy band while you simultaneously search for your best friend.
It might be harder for him to spot you. You chose to wear something dull, deciding against standing out too much just in case Jaehyun wanted confrontation, so looking for you is like searching for a needle in a haystack. You two could have just spent the night karaoking with Jaemin in your living room just like the good ‘ole days, for heavens sake.
Na Jaemin, when I find you, you groan. He doesn’t answer your calls or texts, and just for this you should make him do your homework for two weeks. Three if you bump into Jaehyun. You stop at an empty spot to catch your breath.
“God, what are these guys’ parents? The CEO’s of Samsung?” you mutter, to yourself.
“Aw, so close.”
Not expecting an actual answer, you jump and turn in the direction of the voice. You find a tall, handsome man smiling at you. His teeth are so white that it looks like he eats Colgate for breakfast.
“Kai, I’m the host of the party,” he grins, yet then his expression falters, “do I know you from somewhere?”
“I was thinking the same thing!” You laugh, analyzing his face. He does look a bit familiar.
You tell him your name, and the way he repeats it once more then blinks a few times concerns you a little. It’s not that you have a bad reputation, but did he know you from something bad?
His eyes widen. “You’re Johnny’s ex-girlfriend.”
That, you are. Back in high school you and Johnny dated for some time, broke up after a while since you drifted apart from one another, but agreed to stay friends so you’re both cool. You’re relieved that’s all, but you still don’t remember where you know Kai from, and you’re almost one-hundred percent sure it isn’t high school. You don’t even think you went two to the same high school.
“That’s me,” you confirm with a nod, “I still don’t know where I remember you from, though.”
If this were a cartoon, Kai would have a thought bubble above his head, and moments later it would transform into a lightbulb, “Are you friend’s with Yeri?” he guesses, and you nod, “she’s my step-sister. She probably told you about me.”
Oh. Well now the dots are connecting. Yeri did in fact tell you about him, mentioning that his family is the one her mom married into when explaining how filthily rich she became—because her brand new step-dad is indeed a CEO.
You make an O with your mouth, “Small world.”
“I know, right?” Kai, or as you know him from Yeri (also why you didn’t recognize him immediately), Jongin, laughs, “Care to dance?”
At that, you frown, “I’d love to, but I should really find Jaemin. He’s my best friend and we’re supposed to be spending time together because he just moved back in town recently.”
Kai looks a little sad by the rejection but handles it well, nodding in understanding, “Good luck. Last time I saw him he was over there,” he points, “losing a drinking game.”
That could mean nothing good. That meant wherever he was, Jaemin was more than likely going to be shitfaced by the end of the night. You sigh internally, almost wishing he’d go back to being the shy and introverted boy you knew in high school.
You met Jaemin in your sophomore year, at a party his friends forced him to go to, and you had a couple of mutual friends, but until then you two were nothing more than strangers. Speaking of which, that’s how you bonded, even though it was a fight getting him to say more than five words at a time. You were sure your friends Sicheng and Yuta had a thing for each other, whereas he hadn’t suspected a thing. So you made a bet, and only a couple minutes later, they were found making out against a wall. He owed you 50 bucks.
When Jaemin is still no where to be find, you’re ready to cave in to defeat. You feel like you’re in a maze, walking around in circles and it shows in the ache in your feet. You’re about to give up and turn around, until you walk into something, or someone, and all audible to you is the sound of splashing before someone yells shit, I’m sorry!
Oh, you’ll make sure they’re sorry. You’re not sure what you should focus on. How your top is now soaked, or how familiar their voice is. Until you look back up and see a walking, breathing and unfortunately talking, nightmare.
He calls out your name.
Like before, you turn and walk away.
He says it again, louder, and follows you.
“I don’t want to talk to you, Jaehyun.”
Still, he tails behind you like a lost puppy, despite you obviously trying to stay far, far away, “Can’t you hear me out? It’s been two years.”
“Two very peaceful years,” you stop dead in your tracks and finally turn to face him. It hurts you to look at his face, because the memories wash over you like waves, yet you do it anyways. You want to show him that you’re strong without him, not weakness and vulnerability, “and I told you two years ago that I want nothing to do with you.”
Jaehyun’s no good for you, you know that. You know that all he’s ever wanted to do is get inside your pants, that he’s never cared for you. So why are you tempted to hear him out?
No, you refuse, you will not let nostalgia win you over. That’s all it is. You miss what you had, but you don’t know if you miss him as a person.
“At least let me help you dry your shirt, it’s my fault that it’s ruined,” he tries again, but you’re hell-bent on making him feel as miserable as he did you.
“No.”
“Y/n—”
“No means no, Jaehyun,” another voice cuts in, and while it isn’t the one you’ve been looking for, you’re thankful nonetheless. Beside you stands Kai, tall, angry, and intimidating, “you gonna make her tell you to fuck off?”
Jaehyun glances at you, and you see the emotion in his eyes, but you don’t fall for them. Not anymore. He’s already caused your heart to feel enough pain that you can’t bother to try and carry the burden that is his own. So he gives up and walks off, finally leaving you alone.
And you let out an exhausted breath.
“Show’s over, mind your business,” Kai tells the audience you hadn’t even known formed, and not willing to risk going against him, everyone returns to their previous activity. He looks at you, and all the anger is washed with concern. “You okay?”
Are you okay? You don’t know anymore. Nostalgia is kicking your ass, and though you try not to think about him, you can’t help but reminisce.
“Yeah,” you say, but you’re not too sure. “Thanks. A lot.”
Kai shrugs, “No biggie. Do you think you and Yeri match sizes? You can use the bathroom in my bedroom to change because no one’s dumb enough to go in there.”
You sigh in relief. Chivalry isn’t dead. “Yes. Thank you.”
Kai leads you upstairs to Yeri’s room, or at least the one she stays in when she’s here, and let’s you choose a shirt. It isn’t an easy decision with Yeri being the epitome of fashion, but you pick quickly to spare Kai’s time, even though he tells you that he doesn’t mind. He then takes you to the bathroom in his room because according to him, Yeri’s one is under repair.
Even though Kai is guarding the door with his life and you know he wouldn’t just barge in there without your say-so, you lock the door. You meet your gaze in the mirror, eyeing yourself closely. Everyone is insecure sometimes, but after things ended between you and Jaehyun, you were extremely self-conscious for months.
To anyone who had never been in your shoes, it might’ve made more sense than anything for you to feel better about yourself knowing that even though Jaehyun had a girl, he kept coming back to you. Yet who’s to say you were the only one? To this day, you’re still convinced that the only reason he keeps trying to win you back is because him losing you plus you being the one to end it put a major dent in his ego.
You hate that he had that kind of power over you, to the point where he made you hate yourself. You hate that a man like him made you cry so many goddamn tears and now he expects you to dry his own.
Reminding yourself that Kai is waiting, you tear your gaze from your own before tears have the chance to spill, and wipe yourself dry so that you can put on your - or Yeri’s - shirt. Now that you think about it, it’s too cute to return. You might take it. She’s too rich to notice, and even if she does, she’s still rich. She can easily replace it.
Kai greets you with a smile as you step back inside his room, and you find yourself smiling back at him. He’s been treating you so kindly this whole time, and now that you think about it, you’ve never heard a single bad thing about the man. Yeri clearly doesn’t mention him very often, but it’s never been anything bad when she does, and even when Jaemin was telling you about his roommates, he described Kai as “the funny one that called his mom a lot.”
“Ready to join the party?”
And then you frown. “I don’t know.”
Kai quirks a brow, “Well don’t tell me you look this good just to not show yourself off.”
Amused, you scoff. Kai’s been smooth from the beginning, yet now he’s unabashedly flirting with you. “Are you flirting with me, Kim Jongin?”
Confusion spells itself out on his face. You have never once said his name tonight, and the one time you do, it’s his government. “How do you know my name?”
“Yeri,” you shrug, “but if you want me to just call you Kai then I understand.”
“Well, usually I reserve my real name for my close friends and family,” he grins, and God he looks devilishly handsome when he does, “but it sounds so nice on your tongue that I’ll make an exception.”
It’s painfully obvious that you don’t know how to react, eyes a little round and your lips parting, yet nothing coming from in between. It makes Jongin laugh.
“And yes, I was flirting with you,” he winks, “but anyways, if you really don’t wanna go back out there, which is totally fine, we can just chill in here. You seem like a nice person, and I’d like to get to know you.”
“Get to know me?” You quip, finding enough balance to play into his game after being knocked down by his charm briefly, “or my body?”
He arches a brow in amusement. “That feels like a trick question.”
You shrug. “Be honest. I might feel the same way.”
Maybe it’s a good thing that tonight didn’t go as planned. Kai’s had you since the moment he introduced himself, and it seems every five minutes he gets better.
“Well, I don’t see why I can’t multitask,” He purrs, taking your words as an invitation. An invitation that he was accepting.
You giggle. He eyes you gently, noticing the way you slowly inch closer to him, “I like you.”
It’s an initiation, turning the keys and putting the car in drive, and you want to see if Jongin will take the wheel. And it seems that to your fortune, he does.
“Guess it’s a good thing I like you, too.” Jongin chuckles, and he’s so close. You can feel his breath on your skin, tickling your neck, and it makes something in you crawl with arousal.
And the gap between you closes.
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You already liked Kai last night, but you definitely like him this morning.
You woke up to the smell of pancakes and bacon, and not just any kind of pancakes, but chocolate chip pancakes, your favorite. If anything can make you like someone, it’s chocolate chip pancakes.
“How’d you know chocolate chip was my fave?” you giggle, not expecting a serious response, but after the whole scenario with him yesterday, you should have already known he would have one.
“Yerim’s told me about you, too, you know,” Jongin replies, “It wasn’t even too long ago, it was winter break. We were all staying at my dad’s house for a couple of days, and she invited you over one morning. Everyone was gone but me and her when I went downstairs, and I saw her making chocolate chip pancakes. It blew me, because she’s an avid hater of chocolate. Then she told me they were for her best friend, because you love them, and after last night I learned that the best friend in question happened to be you.”
You and Jongin learned a lot about one another last evening. After you had sex, you didn’t expect to hit it off like you did, yet you spent a great deal of the night talking on his silk sheets. For starters, he’s a wonderful man. Funny, polite, respectful, thoughtful, caring, and he has an amazing personality. The sole flaw you could find in him was that he likes Hawaiian pizza. What kind of sick person enjoys Hawaiian pizza?
And you fell asleep in his arms. It was perfect, almost too good to be true. You considered the possibility of a relationship with him, you enjoyed his company and he was shameless to admit that he enjoyed yours. And yet still, you couldn’t help but think of Jaehyun.
The way he had also made you feel the same way, all those years ago. How he never fucked you and then shoved you away, but he talked to you until the sun came up, or spooned you to sleep. It was ridiculous, and you can’t believe that one encounter with Jaehyun had you acting like a teenager in love for the first time again. Not to mention the encounter in question was horrible. Jaehyun isn’t good for you, but for some reason your heart seems to still want him.
“If you want know so bad, just ask.”
“What?” Kai blinks, unaware that you’ve noticed the way he looks at you, not just now but ever since that encounter with Jaehyun. The longing in his eyes to say something, yet he resisted.
“I know you’re curious about me and Jaehyun,” truth be told, it isn’t just for him, but for you. Maybe if you remind yourself of what Jaehyun’s done to you, hear it aloud, you’ll snap out of it and shake this weird feeling. “So go ahead. Ask.”
Jongin’s surprised at how well you read him, and you can only hope that he doesn’t read you just as well.
“I figured you didn’t want to talk about it, and I didn’t want to overstep my boundaries.” How utterly Kai of him. And honestly, he’s right. You don’t want to, but at this point it’s a need.
“It’s okay,” you assure.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“If you don’t want to talk about it, then that’s okay, you know. I understa—”
“Kim Jongin,” you say, and he pauses, a part of being because he still hasn’t gotten used to you calling him by his government name, yet he loves it when you do, “I am not about to beg you to ask me. I promise you, it’s alright.”
Jongin hesitates, but gives in reluctantly, “Okay, so… what happened for Jaehyun to be so intent on talking to you last night? Break-up?”
“Not really,” you say, trying to keep your voice level and flat. You weren’t the girl Jaehyun was in a relationship with, “It wasn’t a romantic relationship. Just sex, no strings attached.”
Jongin nods, “Ah, so a fling?”
“Mm-hm. I met him when Yeri invited her best friends to your dad’s beach house for a fun summer vacation during break. We hit it off well and it wasn’t much longer that he had me in his sheets. It really was fun, so we agreed to keep fucking around. And then some months later, I found out he had a girlfriend the whole time.”
He makes an understanding face, familiar with Yeri’s Pal-Cations (as she likes to call them.)
“Yerim didn’t tell you he was dating someone?”
“No one knew about us. He wanted to keep things secret,” you chuckle softly, “and that’s when I found out why.”
Silence falls over Jongin, and you sit there and let him ponder. Being able to say it all like this makes it seem so simple, and perhaps it should be. Jaehyun fucked up, and you owe him nothing. If he broke up with his girlfriend, maybe things would have been different, but he didn’t and that’s why he should leave you alone.
“Do you think he’s changed?” You shouldn’t ask. It doesn’t matter what Kai thinks, he doesn’t know Jaehyun like you do and he hasn’t known him for nearly as long. His opinion doesn’t matter.
Kai blinks. “I mean, you know what they say. Once a cheater, always a cheater.”
“But I’m asking for your opinion.”
You’ve never seen Kai so speechless. He’s always had something on the tip of his tongue, always. That’s when you consider that you’re probably dumping a shit ton of unwarranted info on him, especially since you had to practically coerce him into even asking you about Jaehyun. Before you have the chance to apologize, he answers.
“I don’t know him nearly as well as you probably do, but from what I’ve seen in the past 2 weeks, he’s nothing like some stupid, immature fuck boy. He carries himself well, cracks his jokes but he’s respectful and doesn’t push his limits, and I’ve never seen him with a girl,” Jongin says. “Come to think of it, he’s single. The boys discussed our dating situations and relationship statuses just so that we wouldn’t be surprised if we got up in the middle of the night and saw some stranger. Said he was single and wasn’t looking for sex.”
And you sigh in defeat, because the only thing that’s changed about Jaehyun according to that description is that he’s apparently single now and isn’t looking for sex.
Or maybe he was some stupid, immature fuckboy. You don’t know. And ever since you found out about her, you haven’t been sure if you’ve ever known him like you thought you did. You haven’t been sure about anything.
“Do you want him back?”
The questions catchs you off-guard. It isn’t exactly new, but you’ve never had anyone ask you this other than yourself. It’s all that you can think about. Do you really want him back? Or do you just miss what you had? What if it’s both?
“I don’t know,” you answer. And trust, you’ve been thinking about it since that whole ordeal at the café Monday. Even if you do, you shouldn’t. You don’t know Jaehyun’s motive, and there are plenty of other guys that can provide you everything he was giving you. One is literally looking you dead in the eye. He’s replaceable, you tell yourself. You don’t need him.
But that sure as hell has nothing to do with you wanting him.
“You don’t know?” Kai lifts his brow, “Or are you simply in denial?”
You feel like he’s your therapist, and the thought almost makes you laugh. Everything reminds you of Jaehyun. How sometimes, you’d play therapist for each other after you had sex, either directly afterwards or in the morning like now. It was so much more than sex, you think. To you, anyways. And that’s likely how you caught feelings.
Oh, dear god.
Even after two years, maybe those feelings you had for him still linger.
“I realized something,” you really don’t have to say anything, it’s written all over your face.
Jongin makes the conclusion, “You want him.”
Slowly, you nod. You think that you shouldn’t, but you do, and Jongin was right about you being in denial. You guess he really does read you just as well as you do him.
“I’m not gonna sit here and tell you what you should or shouldn’t do because it’s your choice to make at the end of the day, but let’s take everything into account,” Jongin starts, voice sterner than it’s been all morning, “I’m not saying age is an excuse, but he was eighteen. All eighteen-year-old boys are stupid. Take it from someone who’s been there. But he’s twenty-one now, and it’s been years. That’s plenty enough time for him to grow and change.”
You nod along. That’s true, and while you could never be too careful because who’s to say he’s changed, who’s to say he hasn’t?
Kai adds, “If you want to take the risk, take it. If you don’t, then don’t. He made an inexcusable mistake. But he’s human, and all humans make mistakes. You dont owe him anything, especially not forgiveness, but be a little open-minded.”
The decision is yours. You can hear Jaehyun out and try to salvage your relationship, or you can continue to shut him out. You don’t owe him a second chance, but god, you must admit that you’ve always secretly longed to give him one, just so that you could go back to what you had.
Whenever you contemplate giving him a second chance, you think about her. You try to put yourself in her shoes, wondering how she must’ve felt, if she ever knew that the man she loved was fucking around with another woman. Maybe that’s how they broke up. Days ago, the thought would have made you run further and further away from him. But now, it’s almost like you’re rooted in place, bumping into dead-ends.
If you were her, you’d be unforgiving. But you’re not her, you never will be her, and that makes you want to be a little more selfish.
That makes you want him.
“Thanks, Kai,” you say, truly grateful to have his unbiased opinion. Usually you wouldn’t trust people you met less than twenty-four hours ago with your personal business, but all the shit you and Kai exchanged last night makes you willing to permit an exception. And then, you feel bad because even after the kind things he’s done for you since last night, he’s still sitting here advising you on your complicated you-problems. “And I’m so sorry for dumping all my problems on you, you’ve been so sweet and the least I could do—”
“Hey, no worries. If you ever need to talk, I’m here,” Kai interjects, “and if you want me to do a bit of snooping around…”
You shake your head. “No way. You’ve already done enough for me, and I don’t want you to get caught up in my drama. I can handle it.”
“Sure, you can. But I don’t want a girl like you to wind up heartbroken, especially over a possible jackass, and at very least you should see if you can trust him before you, well, trust him,” As though he can sense you about to object, he adds, “No buts. I’m going to keep a few tabs on him and alert you if there’s anything suspicious.”
You sigh, and don’t argue because it’s obvious he isn’t changing his mind. You’re grateful.
You smile. “Thank you.”
“Of course. And if he breaks your heart, I’m here.”
You scoff, “Flirting with me again, Kim Jongin?”
“Oh, baby,” he growls, “Keep saying my name like that and I’ll make you forget he ever existed.”
Ten minutes ago, that would have been tempting. But now you know what you want, and you’re determined to have it.
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Yeri thinks it’s a bad idea.
Taeyong thinks it’s terrible idea.
Jaemin thinks you’ve had better ideas, but he’s willing to cooperate nonetheless.
“I don’t get it,” Taeyong shakes his head, “That guy broke your heart.”
“He wasn’t trying to,” you mutter.
“And he still did, that’s the crazy part.”
“It was two years ago. To be fair, all of us were stupid at eighteen.”
“Not all of us were cheating on our partners with a girl we met on summer break, though,” Taeyong quips, incredulous that he’s even having this discussion with you. You’ve always been on the same page, what changed?
You groan, “God, Taeyong. Sure, he cheated. Duh, he was in the wrong. But it wasn’t me that he cheated on and it’s not like we were ever in a relationship. He couldn’t have known how I felt about him when I did everything in my power to hide my feelings. And what if he’s changed?”
“And what if he hasn’t?” Taeyong retorts quickly.
The silence in the room is deadly. Taeyong can’t believe that he’s having to talk some sense into you, all while your other two friends sit quietly observing your argument. Is he the only one thinking around here? Why aren’t they helping?
Then, Yeri speaks up from the other side of the room, “Instead of arguing, let’s just put Jaehyun to the test.”
“And how do you plan on going about that?” Taeyong grumbles.
“Letting her talk to him, dimwit, how else?” Yeri rolls her eyes, “I know that you probably think that allowing him within a ten-foot radius of her is going to break her heart, but you’re greatly underestimating my best friend’s strength. She isn’t stupid, she can identify red flags.”
“Ease up on the fighting words,” Jaemin chuckles, “but I dunno, Yeri’s right. The only way she’ll know if he’s changed is to see for herself. If she notices anything odd, she can give him the boot. It’s not rocket science.”
You glance at Taeyong. Truthfully, you don’t need his permission, and both of you know that. But it would be nice to feel validated by your best friends, especially the overprotective one.
Taeyong glances back at you, and his expression softens. He’s always had a soft spot for you, and it’s hard to tell you no. Plus, he doesn’t want to be the token villain when everyone else is telling you to go for it. To chase what you want.
And in all honesty, Taeyong wishes he could chase what he wants. But the last thing he is is selfish, so maybe now is the time he lets you go.
Finally, he groans, “Alright, fine. Whatever. Talk to Jaehyun, see if he’s really ready to commit. But if this guy breaks your heart, I’m going to quote-unquote accidentally spill the hottest coffee on his face, just to give him a taste of the fire that is hell, where he will burn for eternity.”
Jaemin shivers, having flashbacks to the first time he spoke to Taeyong, “You love a good coffee threat, don’t you? So many fighting words.”
Taeyong doesn’t reply, just glares at Jaemin sharply.
“Hostile, but I’m with him,” Yeri nods, “Mark my words, that man will die a slow, painful death if he makes one more mistake.”
“Yep!” Jaemin agrees, “Don’t worry, babes. We got your back.”
At that, you smile. Your friends are on your side. Now, here comes the real trouble.
Mustering the ability to talk to Jaehyun.
Fortunately, Yerim’s annual Pal-Cation was right around the corner, and would extend until the end of the week.
Last year, Jaehyun didn’t attend.
Correction: he wasn’t invited.
Yeri and Jaehyun haven’t been on amazing terms since she became aware of everything, which put a dent in their relationship. This year, she’s invited him in favor of playing Cupid.
You’re a little nervous, anxious about being in the same space as Jaehyun for more than three minutes after all these years. You’re scared and you’re not sure of what, because if Jaehyun’s really as changed as he implies he is, the result should be predictable.
Then again, you don’t really know Jaehyun’s reason for wanting to talk to you, and that makes you all the more panicked. Of course, he wants you to hear him out, but what does he want to come out of that? A second chance? At what?To you, your relationship was so much more than sex. But what if it wasn’t to him? What if he just wants to get inside your pants?
“Girl, please,” Jaemin scoffs, crashing against your hotel bed like he owns the place. He’s in comfortable awe, and probably wouldn’t think twice if someone told him the beds were made out of marshmallows, “you were defending his life choices like yesterday—god damn, these beds are soft—and now you’re having second thoughts? Since when do you back down from things?”
You throw a pillow at him, “I was not defending him!”
“I talked to him earlier, when he asked me if I was sure about wanting him here,” Yeri states, sitting on the seat in front of the mirror. “Told him that there’s no way in hell he’d be here right now if I didn’t want him to be. He laughed and promised me he wouldn’t do anything stupid, and I told him know, because if he does do something stupid it’s off with his motherfuckin’ head.”
Jaemin smiles, satisfied, “Yeah, that should do it. I’d be scared half to death, you could probably pay someone to kill him and no one would suspect a thing.”
“Enough about killing him,” you grimace, “I’m just, I dunno, nervous, I guess. What if he just wants to get in my pants?”
“Guess you better go found out, and tonight is the perfect opportunity. I reserved the pool, so we have the entire area to ourselves until midnight.”
“Yeah, and that wouldn’t be too bad anyways. When was the last time you got laid?” Jaemin adds.
You sneer and flip him off, “For your information, I got laid at that party Friday night when you left me for dead to go get drunk. And that’s why your ass was hungover. And Yeri, you never told me that your step-brother was so fucking hot.”
Yeri exclaims, “You slept with Jongin?”
“You slept with her brother?”
And that’s where you conclude that you’ve overshared, and it’s time for everyone to have some time to themselves, “Alright, everybody out,” you push and pull them both out, until they’re standing outside your door, “I’ll see you guys tonight.”
Then you shut the door, and lie on your bed, sighing with comfort. Jaemin’s right, the beds really are comfortable. You’re feeling drowsy already and decide to rest your eyes. There’s hours until it’s Pool Time.
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Pool Time comes faster than you wished.
You’re antsy, but Yeri has SHINee’s Punch Drunk Love playing, so you feel more at ease. It also serves as a reminder that you’re going to need a drink or two to get through the night.
It doesn’t help that you had a dream about Jaehyun while you were trying to rest your eyes, about the night when you first you met him. You were at Yeri’s step-father’s beach house, and the dream was specifically when you made out in the middle of the pool. I’ll never let you drown, baby. You shake the memory away.
You glance around, and see everyone’s here. Yeri’s talking to her friend Mark who obviously has a crush on her, Jaemin’s engaging in conversation with Taeyong who for once doesn’t look like he wants to rip Jaemin’s head off, Yeri’s other friends are playing in the pool, and—Jaehyun.
Jaehyun’s seated at the bar, looking dead at you, which is exactly where you need to be but your lunch and your stomach seem to not be getting along suddenly. You tear your gaze, and glance back at Yeri. You need her help, one last push or words of encouragement, but you’re not selfish enough to interrupt Mark’s attempts at flirting with your friend and getting some.
Well fuck, you groan. You’re all alone this time, and deciding you look stupid standing there by yourself, you march to the bar and hoist yourself on the stool beside Jaehyun, ignoring the increasing speed of your heartbeat. It doesn’t help that this place only has two barstools.
“What can I get you, sweetheart?” The bartender asks you. She’s pretty, got long dark hair and a nice face. You wonder if Jaehyun flirting with her is the reason she’s been smiling so hard since before you sat down, trying to stifle a giggle.
And you frown at your own thoughts. Leave it to you to automatically assume the worst.
“No idea. Suprise me,” you sigh, and with a nod she gets to work.
It’s difficult, more like impossible to ignore Jaehyun’s presence beside you. He isn’t saying anything, isn’t doing anything as far as you can tell without looking at him, but the knowledge that he’s there has you on your toes.
The bartender brings back your drink, tells you to enjoy and you say thank you before having a taste. You need this before you dare say a word to him.
And then he dare speaks, “Hi.”
You can feel your heart racing and you don’t know why, but you do know that you don’t like it. There’s no reason to feel like this, you heard Jaehyun talk at the party. You somehow manage to chirp back quietly, “Hi.”
“Aren’t you gonna look at me?”
It feels like he’s challenging you, almost to say you’re too much of a pussy to look him dead in the face, and you know you’re more than likely making that up but Jaehyun’s the first person to know that you’re last person to back down from a challenge, so you do turn to look at him.
It takes everything in you to stay rational when you do. You get the chance to look at him, to really look at him, and you’re taken aback by his features. He looks the same, but different all at once, obviously a little older.
Beside you is no longer the teenage boy with the cute, high-pitched voice, but a man with a deep and matured sound to his voice. He’s smiling a little wildly at you. It’s the first time you’ve seen him smile in years.
You take a sip from your drink so that you don’t smile back and say, “I’m looking.”
“See something you like?”
“Nope,” you lie, as though you weren’t obvious checking him out seconds ago, “just you.”
“Aww, don’t be like that,” Jaehyun grins playfully, “smile a little, won’t you?”
“Let’s cut to the chase, Jaehyun,” you change the subject. You refuse to let his little games work on you. “Didn’t you want me to hear you out? Hop to it or I’m leaving.”
He blinks. “Here?”
Well no one can hear you other than the bartender, but it’s a personal issue that deserves the utmost privacy and it’s not like you’re willing to share your personal business with a stranger, so you agree to walk around the pool with him. Close enough so that you’re not bumping into walls, distant enough to not be overheard.
You glance at him, “So?”
Jaehyun sighs, “Rather than defending myself, I think I should apologize. For not telIing you I was in a relationship, for risking dragging you into drama, it was selfish. I was selfish.”
It was selfish. He couldn’t have been thinking of your feelings, or even her feelings.
“There’s no excuse for what I did, and I can’t imagine how belittled it made you feel. You don’t have to forgive me, and I know you’re probably gonna hate me forever for this and I don’t blame you. But I want you to know that I’m sorry,” he gives you those emotional eyes, the same dejected gleam in them, “Sincerely. And if there’s anything I can do to make it up to you…”
“Tell me why,” you want the answers that you’ve been searching for all these years. Not exactly closure, but you don’t want to live in doubt, wondering maybe you were never enough, and that’s why you were always the side piece.
“Why I did it?”
You nod, and he’s silent for a moment.
“I mean, I don’t know. I don’t know why eighteen-year-old me did the shit I did, but I know that I did it and I can’t take it back. I’ve looked back so many times and I still can’t fathom…” Jaehyun trails off, then starts shaking his head, “you know what? Maybe I do know why.”
Don’t cry, you tell yourself. You’re stronger than this. You’re blinking back tears, attempting to keep your voice level as you whisper, “Why then, Jaehyun?”
“It’s not the shocking, life-changing reason I always thought it would be,” he chuckles sadly, “it’s because I was stupid. And careless. I wasn’t thinking, but at the same time I thought I had the world at my feet, and I guess I did but then I…” Jaehyun stops to take a breath after he realizes he’s rambling. “But then I lost you. And that’s when I realized that this, the lying, the cheating, the going behind your backs—it was stupid.”
“It was stupid,” you agree, and he laughs a little more. “But let me ask you one more thing…” you say. He doesn’t reply, but his eyes tell you to go ahead. “Did you love her?” Or did you love me?
Jaehyun nods lazily. “At one point.”
You bite your lip, unsatisfied.
“Did you love me?”
That catches him off-guard. You almost expect him to stop walking the way he’s frozen, and you feel your stomach churning in regret.
“Nevermind, forget I asked that—”
“When you first left, I was unaffected,” Jaehyun interjects. “Like I said, I thought I had the world at my feet, so I thought you were replaceable. I tried replacing you. But it wasn’t the same, no matter how many times I tried, it was never, ever the same,” his eyes muse at you, “No one looked at me the way you did, no one talked to me all night and made me laugh like you did, no one ran circles through my mind like you, no one was like you. So I knew I needed you back, but by the time I realized you were already gone. And that’s when I knew I had fucked up.”
He adds, “So, yeah. I did love you. Maybe it was at the wrong time, maybe it was too late for me to love you, maybe I wasn’t supposed to, but I did and I don’t think I’ve ever stopped.”
Jaehyun’s thumb runs over your eyes, wiping a string of tears that you hadn’t even know you cried. He doesn’t say anything about it, just pulls you closer to his chest.
“What about you?” He asks.
“What about me?”
“Did you love me?”
Now it’s your turn to freeze, and then you almost laugh. Of course, you loved him. You were in love with him. Hopelessly.
“Can I be honest?”
Jaehyun nods. “Mm-hm. That’s what this is all about, right?”
You exhale a sharp breath, preparing to tell one of your deepest, darkest secrets to the one person that was never supposed to know, “When I told you the reason I wanted to end things was because of you cheating on her, that wasn’t the whole truth. It was part of it, and though I’m no homewrecker, there’s another reason. I was in love with you—hopelessly, helplessly, utterly—and I couldn’t stand the thought that you never felt the same, that I was just a plaything to you.”
“Y/n—”
“Let me finish,” you order, “I left to take care of me. I thought it would have been disrespectful towards myself to stay in that position, when from my understanding, I loved you yet you loved her,” you feel another trail of tears coming, and wipe them away before they have the chance to spill. “At that moment, when I found out you already had someone, I felt like I didn’t know you anymore. I thought that maybe you never really cared, and I was the only one that felt it.”
It, the love. The spark. The connection. The butterflies in your stomach when he held you close, or called you cute pet names. The emotion whenever he was deep inside you.
“It felt like I had given my heart to a stranger,” you laugh humorlessly, “because for all I knew, who’s to say I was the only one you were fucking behind her back? I felt so, so stupid. Like I was never enough. And when I first saw your face again after all these years, all of that hurt came back. But at the same time,” you look him in his eyes, “all my feelings for you came back, too.”
It’s silent for a moment, but it isn’t awkward. You’ve just confessed your feelings for one another, not only now, but for the you of two years ago. For the you of eighteen who never thought you’d ever have this chance.
And you can’t believe Jaehyun’s actually had feelings for you, too. It always seemed like some fairytale thing, but hearing one another out like responsible adults instead of immature teens changes things.
“Wow,” Jaehyun whispers in surprise, “Wow. I was such a fool. I made a simple thing so fucking complicated. Imagine where we’d be if I would have just broken up with her and realized my feelings sooner.”
Together. You’d be together, as one.
“Could’ve, would’ve, should’ve, didn’t,” you say lightheartedly, “There’s no use in worrying about that. You’ve apologized. And I forgive you.”
“You forgive me?” Jaehyun gawks. “Why? I thought you’d hate me forever or something.”
“I kinda still hate the you of two years ago, he’s an asshole,” you giggle, “but the you standing next to me right now, today, is a changed man who knows his mistake and won’t do that shit ever a-fucking-gain. Or else.”
Jaehyun snorts. “Of course not. I wouldn’t dare.”
You smile, “Good.”
“Good. So do we address our relationship too, or…”
“Later, please,” you groan. “Come sit by the water with me.”
Jaehyun agrees, and so now you’re sitting at the edge of the pool, your head resting on his shoulder.
“Is SHINee still your favorite band?” He asks.
“Yeah,” you mumble, heart warming at the fact that he even still remembers that.
Then he teases, “Do you still swoon over Lee Taemin?”
You give him a very, very icy glare, “Shut up. I’ll push you into the pool right now.”
“You wouldn’t,” Jaehyun challenges.
Wrong move, you smirk. You love a challenge.
So in one swift movement, you do push him into the pool, and the sound of him yelling and the water splashing is like music to your ears. You giggle, watching as he comes back up, hair heavy and soaked as it sticks to him like a second skin. You also take notice of his white t-shirt, or his abs through the soaked cotton. Six pack. Toned. Stupid dumb crazy hot. Damn, sometimes you forget why you kept coming back to him.
He sneers, unamused. “Not funny.”
“It’s a little funny,” you disagree with a smile.
“Oh yeah?” he says, “Look, Lee Taemin!”
You turn without fully processing his statement yet, “Wha—agh!”
In an even swifter motion, Jaehyun’s pulled your ankles, and now a distracted you falls into the pool with a splash. Not to mention, your bikini cover-up is still on. This, unfortunately, is karma. Inconvenience aside, you’re getting deja vu, a distant memory seeping back into your mind.
You whine, “Not fair.”
“It’s a little fair,” he mocks, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.
“You’re lucky I know how to swim,” you wringe out your hair, “You would have had an lawsuit against you if I didn’t.”
You wonder if he’s taken the hint, if he’s gonna say it. You remember that exact moment, being so close to his face and feeling so warm. I’d never let you drown, baby.
And like a rehearsed line, he says perfectly, “I’d never let you drown, baby.”
“You remember.” Your tone is like a question, but it’s a statement.
“I remember a lot of things about you,” Jaehyun states, and perfectly timed, the current song fades into your all-time personal favorite—SHINee’s 1 of 1. “For instance, is this still your favorite SHINee song?”
One glance in Yeri’s direction confirms your suspicion that this is all her doing, as you see her giggling at you, phone in hand. It was already suspicious of her to play SHINee when she’s an Ariana Grande girl, but now you definitely see her her crystal-clear intentions.
“Yeah,” you mutter, but as you turn back around you notice he’s definitely close enough to hear you. Your noses are almost touching, and you can feel your heart racing. You feel like a teenager in love all over again, blood pumping, your heart beating in your ears. Deja vu.
Jaehyun must be feeling it too, because he asks, “Can I kiss you?”
Yet again, you blush. “Sure.”
And on cue, his lips are against yours. Jaehyun’s still an amazing kisser, he feels gentle yet he’s so fierce, gripping your waist as your fingers tangle in his hair. You know for a fact he’d be even rougher if you weren’t inside of a pool.
His lips feel better than you remember, and then he bites your lip. You moan, lips parting and he darts his tongue in your mouth. You can taste his drink on his tongue, faint remnants of whatever he had in his cup.
Fuck, you forgot how high kissing him makes you feel. It’s like an addictive drug, and you can feel nothing but your heartbeat and his lips on yours. You don’t want him to stop.
And then, to your misfortune, he does stop. You whimper, not really taking notice of how out of breath you are as you’re overcome with greed.
“Why’d you stop?” You frown.
“You need to breathe, babe. You wanna almost drown in the pool like Taeyong?” He laughs.
Speaking of Taeyong, you check on him with your eyes. To your surprise, he’s still talking and laughing with Jaemin, the pair obviously hitting it off and super into one another. It makes you smile. That boy’s had a huge crush on you that you both know you can’t reciprocate for years, and it’s time he lets you go.
“Hello… Earth to y/n? You look like the cute puppy eyes emoji.”
Your eyes snap at Jaehyun, “Shut up,” you reply, “And kiss me.”
“Bossy,” Jaehyun teases, but he must like that about you, because moments later he’s kissing you again, even more passionately than before.
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“Oh, c’mon!”
Yeri giggles, “Sorry, y/n. The majority rules!”
For the second day of your California vacation, Yeri’s decided to take everyone to an amusement park an hour out from the hotel. You asked her why she didn’t do Disney Land this year, but she said it was reserved for her first Bae-Cation.
You roll your eyes. What happened to chicks over dicks?
The point is, you wanted to separate into groups, considering it would be easier to keep up with everyone. However, everyone else wanted to do pairs, arguing that there was more freedom and it’d be easier to come towards a mutual decision instead of arguing over what to ride.
So everyone grabs their partners, and you’re shocked when you see Jaemin and Taeyong step beside one another. You’re incredulous. Jaemin’s just been abandoning you left and right ever since he came back.
“You two in love or some shit now?” You fold your arms, eyes pointing at them accusingly. “What happened to those coffee threats, Yong? I thought you said Jaem was annoying. And Jaemin? You said he was scary!”
Jaemin shrugs coolly. “He was, but then I realized something. Taeyong’s like an egg, he has a hard shell—” Taeyong glares, “—nevermind, he doesn’t like that comparison very much. Taeyong’s like a smore, hard on the outside yet warm and soft on the inside. Oh, and very deli—ow!”
Jaemin holds his stomach dramatically, looking at Taeyong who stands with a satisfied grin on his face. Perhaps, Taeyong still is a little scary.
“Jaem! Yong!”
“Ooh, that reminds me,” Jaemin eyes twinkle, “I think our ship name should be Jaeyong.”
Taeyong disagrees, “No way. It should be Taemin.”
“First of all, you two will never be Taemin,” you interject with a scowl. “Anyways, you two figure that out. I’ll go be with my partner.”
And you stomp away to spot Jaehyun waiting for you with a cheeky grin. You’re optionless, you suppose. Yeri’s with Mark again, Taeyong and Jaemin are obviously a thing now, Seulgi’s with Winter and Jennie’s with Nayeon.
It’s not even like last night ended poorly. Last night couldn’t have been better, you spent your time making out and drinking with Jaehyun in the pool until midnight. It was too good to be true, you felt like Cinderella, having to slip back into her normal life by the time the clock struck twelve.
Now though, you have to be alone with Jaehyun. Okay technically, you’ll be surrounded by hundreds of people, and depending on where you go your friends may or may not be accompanying you, though still. It isn’t that you don’t trust him, but isn’t it natural to feel uneasy?
Jaehyun calls, “C’mon, princess! Let’s go get hotdogs. I’m hungry.”
“We ate at the hotel,” you snort.
“So? That was an hour ago. Plus the time it took for us to get through that crazy ass line. If you’re not hungry, I’ll buy you a lemonade or something.”
A lemonade does sound good, you ponder. It’s summertime, and no amount of sunglasses and mosquito-repellent sunscreen is going to help you beat this heat. It’s ninety-something degrees.
“Fine,” you give in, and an eternity later (curse these never-ending lines) you’re sitting down at a bench, you sipping on your humongous cup of lemonade and Jaehyun eating a hotdog.
To be honest, you really didn’t need the largest size that they had. You were just testing his reaction for the fun of it, expecting to have a giggle or two, but he totally surprised you, buying it and insisting you should have it even after you told him that you were just playing.
The Jaehyun you knew three years ago was many things, and rich was not one of them.
“Let’s talk,” he says after discarding his hotdog in the bin. Oh of course, Jaehyun’s brain cannot function when he’s running low on food.
Playing dumb, you ask, “About what?”
“Us,” he answers simply.
“In the middle of an amusement park?”
“It’s important,” Jaehyun grins, “You don’t trust me.”
Perplexity is written all over your face. You trust Jaehyun on the basic level, you feel safe around him and in his embrace. But you’re not sure if you trust him with your heart just yet, and after everything he did, you have the right to be scared.
“And I understand why. I hurt you once, you’re scared I might do it again. So let’s start over,” he concludes, and you blink. “From scratch. Past aside. I want you to get to know me, and I wanna get to know you. I’m sure there’s plenty of things I don’t know about you now.”
I mean, you know the gist. You didn’t say that aloud, of course. Through a discussion last night, he still knows your favorite color and your undying love for pie and SHINee, especially Taemin, your birthday, your mom’s birthday, even your dog’s birthday—okay, maybe he knows too much. Or you overshared. Who knows.
And you still remember a lot of facts about him, but at the same time, there’s still so much you don’t know about one another.
“Right,” you agree, “So by starting over, you mean…”
“Completely,” he answers quick. “Let’s re-introduce ourselves.”
Your lips don’t quiver, drawn into a line. “You gotta be kidding.”
“I’m serious!” Jaehyun claims. “C’mon, I’ll even go first.”
“Jaehyun—”
“Aht, aht! You’re not supposed to know my name,” Jaehyun chides. “Hi, my name’s Jaehyun, I’m twenty-one, and I like Cigarettes After Sex. The band, I mean. I don’t smoke.”
You roll your eyes. There was no need for him to explain, because literally everybody knows Jaehyun likes Cigarettes After Sex, the same way everyone knows you like SHINee. But for the sake of placating him and getting this over with, you refuse to make any comments.
“This is so corny.”
“The longer you wait the longer it takes.”
Reluctantly you give in, but not without a groan. “Hi, Jaehyun. My name’s y/n, I’m also twenty-one, and I like SHINee.”
Jaehyun claps dramatically, “Bravo! Was that so hard?”
“Yes, actually.”
He giggles, tells you to stop being dramatic and you two begin your mission to ride every ride that you can within the span of a few hours. You get more snacks in between, sharing a container of butter-y delicious popcorn and double-dating some rides with the other pairs (which unfortunately happens to lead to you witnessing Mark throwing up in a bush).
Unfortunately, time flies by fast when you’re having fun, and when Yeri texts the Pal-Cation Pals group chat to meet up by the first popcorn stand in fifteen minutes, you know you have little time remaining, enough for one last ride.
The Ferris Wheel.
Last but not least, the Ferris Wheel. You and Jaehyun have been saving it for last, agreeing the full experience is at dark night, when the colorful lights illuminate the indigo sky.
“Let’s go!” You pull him into a cart, and he laughs at your enthusiasm.
When the ride starts, Jaehyun holds your hand and you rest your head on his shoulder. It feels nice and comfortable, and you quickly realize you miss having him like this. Close to you. And it’s silent for a moment. You and Jaehyun have always had these moments together, where you’re not talking one another’s ears off, but holding each other in warm silence. You have always valued the other’s company.
You watch as the world gets smaller underneath your feet, how the Ferris wheel lights twinkle in vibrant colors, and shine on its surroundings. You see how the other rides glow in the dark, appearing so close yet so far away.
It’s beautiful. Your eyes flare different colors—red, blue, pink, green—as you gawk in wonder. If you could, you’d stay like this forever, watching this astonishing sight with Jaehyun at your side.
“You look pretty in the light,” Jaehyun marvels, snapping you out of your daze. The butterflies and their flapping wings come back, and he’s always been able to make you feel like this so easily.
Warmth fills your cheeks, and you turn around so that he doesn’t notice. “Don’t I always? Or are you saying I only look pretty in the light?”
Jaehyun rolls his eyes, “You’re still impossible. I’m trying to flirt with you.”
“Then do so,” you smile. “Keep telling me about how pretty I am.”
“Look at me,” Jaehyun whispers, but it’s loud and clear to you. Slowly, you do look at him, noticing the way his lips curl into a soft grin, and how the purple light casts on his gorgeous skin and features. “Your lips are pretty, too.”
Next, he’ll call your bones pretty and you’ll still feel your face flush with heat.
Jaehyun kissed you for hours last night, but when his lips collide with yours again you know that you’ll never get used to the feeling. Your fingers card through his hair while his gravitate towards your skin, cold hands sending a shiver down your spine as they mesh with the evening warmth.
You bite at his lip this time, wallowing in the sound of his moan as it tumbles from between his parted lips. He can feel you smiling, the corners of your lips spreading apart as you stifle a laugh.
It feels like fire consumes you, like you’re melting, melting into his touch, like candle wax as his fingertips trace your skin. Like a bomb’s ignited inside you, like you’re exploding, and the more you feel him the more you desire him. The more you crave him, the more your body yearns for him.
You know you have him when you move for his neck, marking a trail of red lipstick stains that look purple in the light. He takes it as a challenge, retaliating with a bite at your neck that makes you sigh in pleasure, and this is definitely why you get along so well—you’re compatible.
“When we get back,” you gasp, ignoring the complacent look he casts at you, “Meet me in my room.”
“What about the others?”
“They saw us making out in the pool, Jaehyun, literally nobody cares,” you roll your eyes. “No more sneaking around shit, right?”
He smiles, “Right. Can’t anyways, your lipstick is all over my throat.”
You giggle, and bring him back in for another kiss as the ride begins to slow to an end.
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The next couple of days are equally eventful, yet fly by far too quickly for your liking. You hit the beach and unfortunately witness a woman being stung by a jelly fish, visit some museums, the zoo, and even hike near the Hollywood sign. You also make sure to spend Yeri’s money on some souvenirs, and Jaehyun buys you matching necklaces. You have his J, he has your first initial.
Today is Saturday—already. Tomorrow you will return home, and you’re not sure if you’re ready or not. You sigh as you scroll through your camera roll. You’ve had so much fun this week, there’s the pictures of Mark’s scared face on the roller coaster, Taeyong buried alive into the sand, Yeri and the girls trying on humongous sun glasses at the mall, and the video of Jaemin and Jaehyun arm-wrestling to determine who’s the better Jae to prove it (Jaehyun won).
Like a normal Saturday, today’s the one chill day. The whole week has been chaotic in a fun way, but Yeri had nothing else planned, so she told everyone to take a day to wind down and feel free to venture out to wrap up the vacation.
Which leads you to now.
Jaehyun and you agreed to visit the park, just walking around and talking, and perhaps doing some making out in between. You’ve been doing that a lot lately, and you’re pretty sure you’re addicted. It’s like there’s crack in his lips that cannot simply be fixed with chapstick.
“It’s hot,” you complain.
Jaehyun snorts. “We’re in California, babe. Imagine Yeri took us to Florida.”
You wince. You’re barely beating the Californian heat, there’s no way you’ll survive down south in Florida. It doesn’t even snow there.
“I thought you were gonna say some fake-romantic shit, like I’ll reach into the sky and throw the sun into the freezer, princess, just say the word,” you mimick his voice exaggeratedly.
Jaehyun rolls his eyes, but laughs nonetheless, “No can do, princess,” he teases, “but I can get us some ice cream from that stand over there. Stay put, I’ll be right back.”
“Wait!” You shout. “You even know what I want?”
He says your favorite flavor, and even your preferred container to consume it in, “Right?”
A smile spreads on your lips, and your heart flutters. He remembers. “Right.”
Jaehyun shoots you a smile then jogs over to the ice cream stand, pulling his wallet from his pockets. You gotta remember to ask him where he’s getting all this money from, this man could be a drug dealer for all you know.
Nonetheless, you sit at a nearby bench and pull out your phone. Nothing beats checking up on your Animal Crossing island while you wait.
You notice the presence of someone sitting beside you but don’t bat an eye, knowing without looking that it isn’t Jaehyun. And who are you to shoo away a stranger if they want to rest their feet?
“You must be y/n,” hearing your name, your eyes snap to the side instinctively.
And that’s when you realize that this stranger may not be as unknown as you initially thought.
Your eyes widen, “You…”
“I am, Jaehyun’s ex-girlfriend,” she, Victoria announces proudly, like it’s some achievement to be clipped onto the fridge.
You never met her, but you’ll never forget her name, or her face for that matter. It’s kind of stupid, how you found out. You were on Instagram, and you saw Jaehyun’s account in the replies of Yeri’s post. You clicked his profile, because you had never exchanged accounts before, and you quickly saw why.
He didn’t post her often, amongst all the flaunting images of himself, but when he did he made it crystal clear that she was his girlfriend, and what sole other woman would he continuously post onto his page?
“What are you doing here?” You ask, an obviously bitter edge to your voice. It isn’t she that you should be bitter towards, but you can’t help but feel slightly defensive.
“Relax, darling, I’m not stalking you on whatever summer vacation he’s had the courtesy to whisk you away on,” Victoria giggles. Of course not, that would be obsessive. “It’s actually a coincidence to see you, but since we’re here, let’s talk.”
Disinterested, you reply, “There’s nothing for you and I to discuss.”
“Of course, there is! You were fucking with him while he was with me, right?” she gives you a picture-perfect smile that makes you want to grit your teeth, yet you compose yourself. She sighs, “You know that, and yet you’re like what, dating him now? I’m telling you now, once a cheater, always a cheater. You might think he loves you now, but I promise you, he’ll stab you in the back the moment you aren’t looking.”
Victoria misjudges your silence as you giving her the go-ahead to continue, “I know that you know, and I know you’re trying to convince yourself that he’s changed, but he’s still the same old bastard he was three years ago. I mean just look at him, he’s even flirting with that lady now.”
With furrowed brows, you turn in Jaehyun’s direction, eyes finding that he actually is flirting with the ice cream lady. You can’t believe your eyes. Really? The fucking ice cream woman? He isn’t trying to be subtle with it, either.
She tilts her head as she speaks in your ear, “See? He doesn’t give a fuck. Not about you, not about her, not about any of us. You’re just yet another notch in his belt.”
And suddenly, all those doubts come back, the ones that you had pushed away and replaced with your growing feelings for him. Yet now that they’re existing within the same space, it’s even more terrifying, it’s exactly what you feared.
What if Jaehyun never really cared? What if all this is just some big act? What if he’s just been playing with your emotions this entire time? What if you don’t really know Jaehyun like you thought?
You want him, but what if he doesn’t really want you?
Jaehyun walks over, seemingly not noticing his ex-girlfriend’s presence, “I got the ice cream. Who’s th—Victoria?”
“Hello, Jaehyun,” she waves, offering him a smile. “We were just talking about you.”
“What the fuck did you tell her?” Jaehyun scowls, taking notice of your silence and the empty, unhappy gaze you shoot him. You don’t even smile, hardly even blink.
Victoria shrugs. “Nothing she doesn’t already know.”
“I’m walking back to the hotel,” you announce, sliding your phone back into your pocket and peeling yourself off of the bench.
“Wait!”
He calls out your name.
For the third time, you turn and walk away.
This time, though, he’s not letting you walk away. Not without putting up a fight first.
“Why are we doing this again?” Jaehyun yells. “Why? Did I do something? We can just talk this out, you know. What happened to no more secrets?”
You retort, “You fucking tell me, Jaehyun! How am I supposed to know that you don’t have secrets?”
“The same goddamn way I know you don’t have any! Trust!” And the realization hits him hard. He knows that it’s only been some days, but what could Victoria have said to make you back out so hastily? “Is that what it is? You don’t trust me?”
Tears sting your eyes. “Trust you? You want me to trust you? With you being the kind of person you are? You’re out of luck.”
That burned Jaehyun. After all of the bonding you’ve done lately, he would’ve thought that you would trust him a little more, but he sees clearly now. He sees that he’s done all he can do, and now it’s time for you to do your part.
“What kind of person am I, y/n?” He asks coldly, shoving his hands in his pockets.
You spit, “You’re an asshole.”
“Yeah?” Jaehyun laughs tonelessly, “Well frankly I think you’re an asshole, too. So when you’re ready to be assholes together, let me know.”
And this time, Jaehyun’s the one that walks away. This time, you understand his pain, as you have those tear-stung eyes and that quivering voice. That empty feeling inside, the pang in your heart. The way it’s killing you inside, but you don’t have it in you to move, to chase him. All you can do for now is let it eat at you slowly.
Maybe Victoria was wrong. Maybe you’re planting the knife in your own back.
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Sunday comes slowly, and you’re glad you didn’t ride the same van as Jaehyun. You still have to deal with the curious stares your friends shoot you, but it’s better than confronting your emotions, or at least you think it is.
You’re not ready yet.
When you get home, the first time you do is order Panda Express via Uber Eats so that you don’t starve as you rot in your room. The next thing you do is flop against your bed and and sob.
A few days go by like this, in pure brutal agony. You drowning in your thoughts, the maybes and the what if’s. You feel like a teenage girl experiencing her first break-up, lost and confused and unsure of how to deal with the hurt. It’s no one’s fault but yours though, and it’s your job to fix it or forever hold your peace.
Love is hard. You know that. You accept that. If you couldn’t, then it would be wrong of you to try be in a real relationship. But loving, as a verb, is easy. Too easy. So easy, to the point where sometimes, you don’t realize you’re doing it until it’s too late. What’s harder is accepting the fact that love isn’t a choice, but a feeling. If it was, you would have chosen to stop loving Jaehyun years ago. You would have chosen to fall in love with Taeyong, or maybe even Kai.
But your heart chose Jung Jaehyun, and it must have a mind of it’s own, because no matter how much you tell it to let go, it doesn’t listen.
That’s why as the days go by, they’re slow and empty. Because Jaehyun’s not there. Not with you. And a little voice in the back of your head is saying he’s with another girl, but your heart is telling you to have faith. You are severely conflicted.
Just when you think you might just spend the rest of your life rotting here, you’re quickly proven wrong by the dedication and genuine care and concern of your best friends.
“Hey, bitch,” Jaemin strolls in casually, as though this is his room, “New guy already?”
“What?”
“Some guy opened the door,” he replies, flopping against your bean-bag cough.
You blink, gears turning in your mind as you try to decipher what man could possibly be inside of your house—oh. You roll your eyes, “That’s my roommate’s boyfriend, you dumbass.”
“Oh,” Jaemin mumbles, then his eyes twinkle as he makes a move for your desk, “Ooh, Panda Express.”
Suddenly, Yeri storms inside your bedroom, flickering on the lights inside your very much dim and deprived of life, sunshine and happiness room, chanting vigorously the lyrics to Ariana Grande and Nicki Minaj’s The Light is Coming, “The light is coming to give back everything the darkness stole!”
You groan, yanking the sheets and comforter over your face to block out the light like a vampire, “You guys, please leave me alone.”
“Nope,” says Taeyong, who follows suit after your other friends, venturing into your room. You fight, you tugging the covers towards you while he attempts at pulling them off. It’s a quick battle which you lose, and you soon accept defeat. “You’ve been suffering in silence—and darkness—for far too long. So, fess up. What did that punk do? Do I need to prepare the coffee?”
You sigh, Saturday seeping back into your memory. “He didn’t do anything.”
Jaemin blinks. “What do you mean? Why else have you been sulking in your bedroom for the past four days like a divorced man who’s ex-wife took the kids and the TV? Shit, all you’re missing is a bar and some alcohol at this point.”
You roll your eyes, “I mean, I was the one that fucked up this time.”
“What?”
“What?”
“What?”
They all gasp involuntarily, and if you had it in you, you would roll your eyes at the chorus of what’s.
That day rewinds in your head, how it was so warm then so cold within a matter of moments. Your eyes water as you recall everything that happened, Victoria, your public altercation, walking back to the hotel alone while it felt like there was a rain cloud above your head, despite the piping hot conditions outdoors.
It isn’t like you don’t want to let Jaehyun in. You do, but you’re terrified of granting him that permission, of giving him your heart when he’s broken it before. But this way, you’re only breaking your heart more, and breaking his, too.
“I did something stupid. I assumed the worst when I shouldn’t have, and then I got scared. So I ran,” you want to bury yourself underneath the covers and sink into the earth to be forgotten, but you have to deal with your mistakes. “And I broke his heart. Now I need to fix it, but I don’t fucking know how.”
Yeri thinks you’re dumb.
Taeyong thinks you’re stupid.
Jaemin thinks you’re out of your fucking mind and an absolute fool for letting your thoughts destroy you, but he’ll do whatever he can to help.
“Talk to him, duh,” Yeri says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and it is, but easier said than done.
“How? I bet he doesn’t even want to see my face.”
“Are you kidding?” Jaemin gawks. “He’s been moping around the apartment like literally all week, and me and Jongin haven’t said anything because we thought it was his fault! He also has divorced man syndrome!”
Oh. You feel extra stupid now, and you can’t believe you let Victoria get in your head. Collapsing onto your pillow, you groan, “I really am an asshole.”
“Maybe, yeah,” Taeyong agrees, “but so is he, you guys are a match made in heaven.”
“Or hell,” Jaemin chimes in.
Taeyong glares. “With that being said—and I mean this in the friendliest way possible—get your head out of your ass and go talk to him.”
And you smile softly at that. If Taeyong’s giving you the push, you know that everyone’s right and you need to do something. Now.
You nod and whip out your phone with a sigh, opening iMessage. Can we talk?
(Delivered.)
(Read.)
Sure.
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Antsy, you’re fidgeting. Your anxiety is spiking and you can feel your heartbeat directly in your eardrums, but this time your fears won’t scare you off. You wait for Jaehyun, feet tapping against the ground restlessly, until you see him nearing.
He walks over to your side, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets and you feel your heart wrenching a little when you notice that he doesn’t give you his wild grin he usually shoots whenever he sees you. His face is inscrutable, and you bite back the urge to run, because you know now that no matter how fast you run, you’ll never be able to hide from your feelings.
“Hey,” your voice is giving up on you, but you refuse to let it. Get a grip.
“Hey,” Jaehyun whispers back. His eyes are dark and empty, and that’s how you know you cut him deep. There’s always a gleam to his eyes, whether sad or blissful.
You can do this, you tell yourself. You’ve talked to him about much worse before, this should be nothing. But still, it’s never been quite like this. You’ve never made this bad of a mistake.
“About Saturday,” you begin, still fidgeting but managing to look at him, “I’m sorry. I jumped to conclusions instead of asking you, instead of trusting you, and I let Victoria get in my head—”
“Yeah, what the hell was that about?” Jaehyun interjects. “Sorry for interrupting you, but I’m still confused. Did I do something?”
“She pointed out that you were flirting with the ice cream lady. What was that?”
Jaehyun blinks, processing your statement, and when he does he begins shaking his head, “Seriously? You’re telling me this is all over the fucking ice cream? I was only flirting with her to get free ice cream! You know they was trying to charge me fifteen dollars for 4 scoops?”
“It’s not just that!” You exclaim. “Like, yeah, that triggered it, but—fuck, Jaehyun, I was scared, I was so fucking scared. I was overthinking, and all my doubts and fears came back, that what if you never cared, what if you don’t want me like I want you, what if I don’t know you like I think I do? I was scared to trust you, scared that I love you because I don’t want to lose you again—”
If Jaehyun was a dog, his ears would perk up. “You love me?”
“Yes,” you answer boldly. “I love you, Jaehyun. I’m in love with you, and up until now that scared me half to death, because I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to know that you love me, too,” and especially enough to stay. “But now I know. I trust you, Jaehyun. I love you, I want you, and I’m gonna be honest, I’m still a little scared. But that’s what love is, trusting someone to not break your heart. It’s a risk I’m ready to take for you.”
Jaehyun is silently stunned. He doesn’t have much to say, taken aback by your confession and the fact this actually happening. “You mean that?”
You nod, smiling. “Every word.”
In seconds, Jaehyun has you pinned to the wall, his lips against yours. God, you missed this feeling. The feeling of his plush lips against yours, his hands on your body. You miss kissing him irresistibly, every hour of every day, for moments at a time until you were breathless.
Jaehyun seems to have missed it just as much, kissing you with a passion—hungrily; greedily. He kisses you like he can’t have enough, like his lips have an insatiable hunger.
And you can’t believe you’re making out with him behind your apartment, but you’re willing to try new things for him.
Jaehyun taps your thighs, and by now you know that that meets to jump, so you do, shrieking a little, yet he doesn’t let you fall. “I got you,” he whispers in between kisses, breath tickling your skin, “and I won’t ever let you go.”
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It’s been five days. You’ve been trying not to think too hard about the label thing, maybe Jaehyun is planning something, he wouldn’t just forget to ask you to be his girlfriend.
You’re walking back to your apartment when it happens.
“Excuse me,” a stranger with an oddly familiar voice calls at to you, and when you whirl around, the last person to see is…
“Taemin?” You nearly scream. He points his index finger to his lips, gesturing for you to be quiet, which makes sense because you’re in public but there’s literally no way the man standing before you is the Lee Taemin. You’re dreaming.
You even pinch yourself, much to his amusement, and come to the realization that this is very much real. You could faint. Taemin? Lee Taemin? From SHINee? There’s simply no way.
“I believe this is for you,” Taemin holds in his hands your all-time favorite SHINee album, The Misconception Of Us. You take it, staring at the album in disbelief. You’re gawking. “And one last thing. Come with me, please?”
Okay, what the hell. He has to be trying to kidnap you or something, it’s perfect bait. Who wouldn’t agree to follow their favorite artist after they randomly pop up behind you and offer you your favorite album for free? You’re lucky it isn’t some kidnapping scheme, because you ultimately end up following him despite your doubts.
He takes you to the cafe, which, to your surprise is empty. At least you think it is, until Jaehyun slips out of hiding, walking up to you with a smile.
“Jaehyun,” you can’t help smile back, “What the?”
“Flip it over,” he says, gesturing towards the album, and curiously, you obey. To the back is attached a sticky note that says, To my 1 of 1 girl, will you be my girlfriend? It’s cheesy, but it has you smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.
“Yes!” Instantly, you crash into his arms. “Yes, yes, yesyes yes—” he has to cut you off with his lips, and you melt into kiss.
You pull away the second you hear the intro to your favorite song, 1 of 1, and look onto the cafe stage (yes, the cafe has a stage for Friday through Saturday night performances) to see Taemin beginning to sing and cover the other members parts.
You’re mind-blown. A part of you is still convinced that this is a dream, because how the fuck did Jaehyun get a man as busy as Lee Taemin to do this? You forgot to ask him who he works for, but do drug dealers have Lee Taemin money?
“How did you—”
“Shh,” Jaehyun pecks your lips, “Taemin’s singing.”
You roll your eyes, yet giggle. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Jaehyun engulfs you in a warm, comfortable hug, “And only you.”
When he says it, you trust him. You believe him. Because the Jung Jaehyun you know and love today is a man of his word, and that means you get to love him with no fears, and no worries.
Love is a challenge. And in this moment and the next, it’s safe to say you’ve won.
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poptheweasel · 7 months ago
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Turkish Delight
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Cory quickly realised he’d made a mistake.
He just couldn’t help it. Cory was enjoying an evening coffee at one of those small classic neighbourhood coffeehouses in Istanbul, the kind frequented mostly by aged locals, not young tourists like him. He felt and looked out of place, sure, but it was fine. Sitting at a far corner of the cosy establishment, no one bothered him and he bothered no one. It took him a little while, but Cory was just starting to feel at ease.
And then he entered. Clearly a regular, judging by the way he swaggered in and interacted with the owner and other customers. But he stood out among the others in that he wasn’t old like the rest of them; in fact, he and Cory seemed to be the only men under 40. He sat at a table at the other end of the place, placing him on Cory’s line of sight.
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Cory was immediately captivated by this stranger, not fully understanding why. Maybe it was because the guy contrasted so strongly with himself. Not that Cory wasn’t attractive — of course he was — but something about the man transfixed him. “Fuck, he’s hot,” Cory thought. Maybe it was the gleaming light brown eyes to Cory’s own icy blue, or the meticulously-groomed heavy stubble the guy sported that accentuated his sharp jawline; maybe it was his athletic physique, his well-defined body betrayed by a shirt that was clearly a size too small, or maybe it was how hairy he was, the dark hair very conspicuously thickly covering his sturdy legs and arms offering a stark contrast to Cory’s blond hairs barely visible from a distance… Whatever the case, Cory just couldn’t take his eyes off that Turkish guy. He wanted him, to feel him, to taste him, and imagined all sorts of scenarios.
That’s when Cory realised: he was shamelessly ogling the man. Snapping out of his reverie, he noticed the hairy hunk staring right back at him, completely emotionless. Shit. Flushed and embarrassed, Cory hurriedly paid for his coffee and left, all the while the man continuously and intently observed his every move. Just as he exited, the guy whom he mentally violated also got up to follow him.
His cheeks still ruddy and warm from the unfortunate encounter a while ago, Cory briskly made his way through the labyrinthine streets of the hilly city, desperate to return to his accommodation. The Turkish guy wasn’t too far behind him; Cory meanwhile sensed he was being pursued so he quickened his pace. In an attempt to throw him off the trail, Cory turned a corner into a quiet narrow alleyway flanked by an empty lot and vacant buildings.
Right then, a deep voice called out from behind Cory.
“Hey, you.”
Cory froze, his face drained of the redness. He stood in silence, not knowing whether to respond or run away. He was terrified and felt faint. Only the fresh cool evening maritime breeze kept him on his wobbly knees as he shuddered, half because of the chill, half because he feared what would happen next. Ultimately, after a tense while which felt like an eternity, Cory turned around to see the man approaching him. Although Cory still was scared, he weirdly felt an emergent sense of excitement as well.
Soon, Cory stood facing the Turk. A dimly-lit streetlight was the only source of illumination through which Cory could better appreciate the figure before him. He noticed how the guy was even more hirsute than he realised, with chest hair spilling over his too-tight shirt. Cory’s cock twitched.
“I saw you look earlier,” the guy drily said, maintaining intense eye contact with Cory.
“Ye… No! I mean, yeah, I was…” Cory stammered sheepishly. Fuck, why was he getting turned on all of a sudden?
“Like what you see?”
Cory gulped and nodded. His knees were about to give in when the hunk suddenly grabbed Cory by the shoulders with his hairy meaty hands and yanked him close to give him a forceful yet passionate sloppy kiss. Cory was taken aback and screamed internally, but at the same time, he liked what was happening. Wasn’t this what he wanted in the first place? He didn’t resist the surprising advances; he simply couldn’t resist. He reciprocated, their tongues roaming each other’s mouths. As the Turk continued to shove his tongue in him, Cory felt like putty — he’d let the guy do anything to him, he’d be happy to be used by this gorgeous hairy man in whatever way.
The man’s stubble scratched and tickled Cory’s soft skin around his lips moistened by the wet kisses. Cory felt strong itching sensations in the same area. He normally kept himself clean-shaven, mainly because he could only manage to grow some wispy hairs on his face. As the Turkish guy momentarily pulled away from the kiss though, the area around Cory’s mouth was substantially darker than it was just a minute ago, the beard growth process being accelerated. Cory ignored the itch and continued making out.
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After a while of spit-heavy lip-locking, the Turk pulled down his shorts and grabbed Cory by the shoulders, pushing him down to his knees. Cory, at eye level with the guy’s cut 8-inch cock, was completely mesmerised by the sight and especially the scent; the pubes were so dense, they trapped and collected all the musky sweat and oozing precum. The smell was rather pungent but Cory didn’t mind at all. If anything, the odour had a simultaneously captivating and relaxing effect on him and he felt compelled to inhale it more.
Cory piggishly sniffed the ridiculously hairy crotch, even licking the beads of moisture off individual strands of pubes. While doing so, the hair on his temple grazed the guy’s leaking member, some of the precum sticking onto his blond hair. His hair absorbed the pre almost instantly and began to darken, the change in colour spreading from where the precum had been smeared. The hair on Cory’s scalp lost its sandy hue but retained its sheen, turning browner and darker as the pigmentation spread from the roots to the tips. His face still buried in the thick pubes, Cory felt the man jerk himself, squeezing out more pre from his throbbing cock. “Suck,” he commanded. Cory swiftly obliged.
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Cory was dazed; the public setting, the man’s body and scent, his own eagerness… all that was happening was wilder than anything he’d ever dreamt of. After admiring the juicy rod bobbing up and down in front of him, Cory closed his eyes and got to work, savouring the taste of the musky cock with a faint taste of piss. He took the whole length in his mouth and down his throat, blowing to the best of his abilities. He eagerly lapped up the copious amounts of pre from the Turk’s slick pulsating member, coating his tongue.
The more he sucked and swallowed, the more hairs grew on his face. The itch intensified above and below Cory’s lips, little needle-like black hairs pushing out from his smooth skin and multiplying below his nose and on his chin. The beginnings of a luscious beard then steadily migrated outwards, short pointed hairs breaking out all over Cory’s cheeks and linking with his tapered sideburns. By now, Cory had grown a remarkable designer stubble which grew in thicker by the minute and slowly crept down his chin. At the same time, his face took on a slight tan, darkening independently of the hair growth that took over the whole lower half of his face. Cory’s jaw looked more rugged too, becoming more square and masculine.
Cory carried on blowing his new acquaintance, completely oblivious to the changes affecting him. “You like?” asked the man. “Mmhrrrgggmm,” Cory could only nod and let out a gurgled hum of approval to affirm. The Turkish guy then forcefully rammed his cock down Cory’s throat, making him gag. Just as he did, Cory’s Adam’s apple jutted out more prominently. He opened his wet eyes to look up at the hunk; as he blinked away the tears, his blue eyes lost their iciness as the colour shifted from a cold blue to a warmer mixture of green and brown with flecks of gold. With his new hazel eyes, Cory saw the guy with a smirk on his face for the first time.
Cory’s body continued to change. He felt bulkier, the clothes he wore starting to strain against the muscles growing on his formerly slim frame. He also felt so much warmer despite the breeze; he felt heat radiating all throughout his body from the pit of his stomach and was sweating profusely as a result. He also felt his whole body itching uncomfortably by now. Watching the Turk strip and bare his gloriously hairy body, Cory did the same — he certainly wasn’t as hairy as the guy. Yet. The hair growing on Cory’s face continued to travel down, prickly hairs sprouting on his neck, past his collarbones and on his chest. Cory initially only had a faint patch of barely-visible hair right at the centre of his chest, but as the hairs darkened and thickened, they fanned out towards his pits, forming whirling patterns around his nipples and covering his whole chest with stubbly black hair, like a freshly-mowed lawn. The prickly sensation migrated south to his midriff, a trail of nascent coarse hairs sprouting from his chest down to his navel and then his crotch. From there, the newly-formed treasure trail widened and began to spread outwards in all directions, hairs multiplying rapidly until Cory’s whole torso was blanketed in a field of short hair which connected his stubble and still-sparse pubes.
After a few minutes of Cory sucking, slurping and gagging on the fat Turkish cock, the guy made him stop. Cory reluctantly agreed. The guy then grabbed Cory by his wavy, shiny black hair and got him up back on his feet. Cory was in a state of utter bliss, drunk on pre and musk, drooling uncontrollably. The Turk lifted his arm, exposing his smelly pit completely covered in tangled wiry hairs. The dark hairs were so incredibly dense and tightly-spaced that Cory thought he was staring into the void. “Sniff and lick,” he told Cory. Who was Cory to say no? He stumbled forward, faceplanting right in the sweaty jungle of pit hairs. The pit musk was surely at least ten times as potent as the musk from crotch! The pungent scent was overwhelming; it burned Cory’s nostrils, and yet his cock throbbed even harder, dripping pre all over. What would have been torture felt more like heaven to Cory. He grunted as he took a deep whiff of the rank musk and licked the matted hairy mess soaking wet with sweat. It was absolutely acrid, and the sharp sourness also scalded his throat, making him cough. Cory was immobilised though, his head held in place in the Turk’s reeking hirsute pit; he let out muffled moans, struggling to breathe. Inhaling the musk and gulping down obscene quantities of rancid sweat accelerated Cory’s changes.
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Cory’s body ached all over as he increased in size, growing a few inches and gaining muscle mass. His muscles pulsated and expanded; it really looked as if someone was blowing air into him. His chicken legs inflated to become sturdy trunks, with hard thighs and bulging calves. His arms too grew larger, the veins protruding, his forearms thickening along with his biceps and triceps which doubled in size. Cory’s shoulders and chest broadened, providing him with a more robust, rugged physique. His abs also became prominent, the tight muscles emerging with several popping sounds. Cory was granted a temporary reprieve from piggishly eating out the Turk’s pit, leaving him to gasp for fresh air. The guy then tugged sharply on Cory’s nipples, making him let out a simultaneous yelp and low moan. As if some mechanism had been activated, Cory’s pecs ballooned and jutted out forward, his nipples looking thicker, longer and juicier than the goose-pimple ones he had before. Along with his pecs, his ass also expanded; what was once fairly flat and sad-looking was now globular, the firm cheeks jiggling with every move.
Cory’s puppeteer shoved Cory back into his other, equally hairy and musky pit. With his face buried in the nasty armpit, Cory panted and grunted as the intoxicating scent continued to work its magic. Cory’s brows became wider and bushier. The stubble on his face grew darker and thicker, the hairs coarsening and lengthening as well as multiplying in greater numbers. Starting from under his nose, more hairs poked out to give him a moustache which covered his whole upper lip. The hairs on his chin grew out in all directions, growing unruly and tangling up as Cory rubbed his face in the Turk’s manly pit. His cheeks underwent the same treatment, thick beard hairs pushing out from the follicles and cascading down, following Cory’s rugged jawline and covering the entire area of his face below his nose, the new bushy growth connecting with the moustache and the hairs below his lips. The growth continued to give Cory an incredibly thick medium-length beard that he’d only ever dreamt of having, now coated with a layer of musky sweat and Cory’s own saliva owing to his ravenous worshipping of the Turkish man’s pits. The man held Cory firmly in place, as if to cure the scent onto him.
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This second explosion of hair travelled down Cory’s heaving body. Where the first wave of hair growth resulted in hairs which looked trimmed, the wiry, curly growth this time gave him a natural look, the hirsuteness of a man who had never shaved in his life, possibly unable to, due to how densely and much the hair grew. Coarse hairs burrowed their way out of Cory’s shoulders, leaving a forest of curly fur surrounding his neck, and flowed down his swollen upper arms and to his forearms, forming whirls and wave-like patterns, the wild, dense growth of black hair obscuring the view of the skin underneath — his arms looked as if they were wrapped in steel wool. Cory’s hands cracked and popped as they grew meatier and burlier, his fingers rough and calloused and speckled with thick hairs, giving him an almost beastly appearance.
The rapid growth of hair continued unabated, Cory feeling an intense itch under his arms. Soon, dark pinpricks appeared in his shaven pits, increasing exponentially. From those black dots, long wiry hairs shot out, growing thicker and longer, seemingly watered and fed by the sweat that had accumulated in his pits all this time. Radiating from the centre of the pits, the hairs blanketed a larger area, connecting with the hairs on Cory’s chest. Much like the Turk’s pits, Cory’s pit hair grew unwieldy and matted, the strands twisted and twirled from both the growth and the dampness. The moisture trapped under the massive tufts of pit hair emanated a smell. Indeed, accompanying the growing hairs was a stink, the same kind of rank smell that Cory had been inhaling for some time now, which grew increasingly more powerful as the fur grew in. Cory’s chest hair also began to lengthen at the same time, the hairs coiling out and curling and bunching up. Any remaining empty space was filled with thick wiry hair springing out in rapid succession. The amount of hair was grotesque; the eruption of wiry black hairs created a rug of fur on Cory’s toned body, completely enveloping his torso such that his pecs and abs were hardly visible at all, only his engorged nipples barely poking out from the dense field of hair.
Together with the massive hair growth and coupled with the increased pigmentation in his hairs, the light tan which had developed on his face also migrated down. Cory’s pale complexion on his face was already completely replaced by a natural tan, a light sun-kissed brown. The colour seeped down his neck, his back, his shoulders, like someone had dumped a bucket of oil on Cory. The dim orange streetlight made his tan appear darker, what little bits of skin peeking out through the dense hair glistening with the light reflecting off the sweat. Soon, all of Cory’s skin was a luscious earthy tone, not that much of it was visible under all the fur carpeting his whole body.
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Cory’s raunchy pit sweat guzzling was interrupted when the Turk made him turn around and stand facing the wall of the vacant building. “Ass out,” the guy ordered. Cory immediately obeyed, panting like a dog that’s had too much sun. He was excited by the prospect of getting railed by this hot Turkish hunk, not having realised all the changes that affected him. Beads of precum dribbled out of Cory’s aching cock, which in the meantime had also darkened to match the rest of his complexion. His balls, larger than before, also churned. Cory felt the Turk holding him from behind, grinding his wet slick cock against Cory’s ass crack filling with hair. “Ready?” asked the man. “Fuck yes,” Cory responded. The guy spat right onto Cory’s tight puckering hole. Wiry black hairs blossomed around the pink ring, spreading out alongside the hairs growing on his crack. The light dusting of hair on his bouncy glutes was swiftly overtaken by curly dark hairs.
The Turk slowly inserted his cock lubed up with Cory’s saliva and his own precum into Cory’s inviting hairy hole, making Cory emit low moans and animalistic grunts sounding deeper than the previous ones. The man thrust in and out of Cory in a rhythmic fashion, Cory’s hole wrapping around his cock, basically milking him of his pre. With every thrust and pound and depositing of the Turkish guy’s precum in him, Cory changed further. His furry mounds ballooned even more. Pound. Fuzz grew in from the area of his coccyx and crept up the entire length of his spine, connecting with the thick curly hairs on his shoulders. Pound. The same fuzz then fanned out from the backbone, coating the lower back and colonising the previously hairless area of the shoulder blades. Pound. The wispy hairs on his whole back turned darker, growing longer and thicker, thousands of individual strands unfurling as they burrowed out of Cory’s smooth skin with great strength, leaving him with an impenetrable pelt of fur on his back. Pound. The wiry hairs erupted in greater quantities on his legs and snaked down, growing all over and wrapping around his thighs and calves and shins. Pound. The midnight black hairs on Cory’s legs thickened considerably that they were now visible from a distance, in stark contrast to before when he still had barely-visible light hairs against his pale white skin.
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The pounding increased in speed, the Turk’s hairy low-hanging golf ball-sized balls slamming and smacking sonorously against Cory’s voluptuous hairy ass, also making his balls increase in size to those of tennis balls. Each frenzied slap caused Cory’s bush to fill in and spread beyond its confines at the base of his penis. He had previously kept his crotch trimmed, but that was history now; his pubes more closely resembled black fur due to how dense and tightly-packed it was. It was impossible to see the skin underneath the bush which had basically spread to the navel and also around Cory’s hips, even having crawled a little bit up his shaft. The wild, unkempt matted fur on his groin, much like the coarse tufts of hair under his arms, collected both musk and moisture, rendering it damp and especially pungent. It was only this time that Cory realised how much he reeked, with his arms outstretched to prop himself against the wall as he was fucked by his dream man. He didn’t care that he stunk; no, it turned him on, even. His dick responded accordingly, pulsating painfully — as the Turkish guy continued to thrust rigorously, Cory’s leaking cock grew larger incrementally, as did his balls which were engulfed in wiry hairs, and Cory produced more and more pre which trickled down his shaft and onto his extremely tangled mess of a bush, stinking it up even more.
Very little of Cory as he once was at the coffeehouse remained. At this point, he resembled an extremely hairy, beefy Turkish man, handsome and masculine, oozing testosterone out of every pore, blessed with the perfect manly genes such that luscious fur carpeted his body front and back, head to toe. After a few more thrusts and plunging and poking, the Turk erupted with one drawn-out growl and heavy panting and flooded Cory’s insides with his hot, sticky seed, depositing load after load in him. On Cory’s part, he too was close to cumming. As his cock reached a fully erect length of at least 9 inches, his foreskin retracted down his pulsing shaft and vanished altogether, leaving him with a newly-cut slab of meat. Cory blasted — hands-free — at the same time as the other Turk, leaving a puddle of splooge on the ground and painting a fair bit of the wall he propped himself up against. As he came, so came out the last vestiges of his former whiteness, his balls now filling and churning with Turkish cum.
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The guy pulled out of Cory with a shlorp, cum dribbling out of Cory’s manhandled hairy hole and clinging onto the thick curly hairs on Cory’s ass and legs. Both men were breathing heavily, completely spent. They momentarily stood in silence punctuated by the sounds of buzzing insects and the occasional evening breeze. The other Turkish man, now slightly smaller in build than Cory, pulled Cory close for a kiss, gently and tenderly this time, not minding the pre and drool that had stuck and dried onto Cory’s majestic bushy beard.
“What’s your name?” the guy asked, thumbing Cory’s still-hard protruding nipples. Cory opened his mouth to respond but he hesitated. He suddenly realised he didn’t remember his name — what was his name? What a strange thing to forget! He knew it started with a C… no! It wasn’t a C, silly him. It started with a K, of course, and there was an R in there. K… Kor…? Ker…
“Kerem,” he finally answered. Yes, Kerem; that was his name, the name that he’d obviously had all his life. He’d always lived in Istanbul, hadn’t he? He liked the sea and the hills, his native culture, and the men, especially the men — those hirsute and masculine like him, of course — how happy is he who calls himself a Turk!
“I’m Semih,” said the other man who had followed Kerem all the way from the coffeehouse in the hopes of having fun with him. He certainly did get lucky, even out in public like this. “Evimde bir kez daha?”
“Peki, kanka.” Kerem was so ready for round two with Semih.
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Hi all, decided to upload something original for a change. Kudos to @hairyjocktf for the encouragement!
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yulin-pop · 3 months ago
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⤷ ✧ 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬
order 85 | scenarios | Riddle, Leona, Azul | Gender Neutral
❀ NOTE: Can you guess what my inspo is? (In English class my nose randomly started dripping blood)
Small description of blood (nosebleeds specifically)
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➺ Riddle Rosehearts
It happened at the worst time, during a small tea party with Riddle. With Trey serving tea and all these little pastries you felt like nothing could go wrong.
You felt something come out of your nose and you sniffle, just dismissing it until it doesn’t stop.
“MC…” Riddle gives you a harsh look.
It was sorta embarrassing when Riddle gives you that look. “Sorry sorry maybe something triggered my allergies!” You cover your nose and then you look down at your hand, you understand why he was staring.
Riddle rushes over to you with a hand towel and presses it against your nose while he leans you forward.
“Does it hurt? Are you okay? What did you do??” He continuously asked questions one after another.
Even after you insist you’re fine and nothing in particular caused it, he’s adamant on keeping an eye on you.
“I think you need first aid…” He says while staring at you from the other side of the table.
“Riddle I’m fine—“
“I can’t let you leave, maybe you need a check up.”
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༻ Leona Kingscholar
You were talking to him, you weren’t there to talk to him because you wanted to but you just owed Ruggie a favor and he asked you to get Leona and bring him back at Savannaclaw.
He was laying on the floor looking the other way while you stared down at him. “Look, Ruggie really needs you.”
“He can wait.” He grumbled.
“He said right now. Seriously he sounded really concerned when he sent me.” You tried to reason with him.
You went from politely asking, getting angry, whining, then to just pleading. Throughout the entire time he didn’t look at you once.
In the middle of your sentence you sneezed, you felt something drip out of your nose and you quickly covered your nose with your hand.
“Bless you herbivor…” he trailed off and turned his body towards you.
“Sorry this is kinda gross.” You said while covering your nose more.
“You’re bleeding.”
“It’s alright this will go away.” But it just kept going, with his napkin you had no idea what to do.
He stared at you trying to clean your hand up and also your nose until he had enough. He mumbled under his breath before picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.
“I’m only doing this because I don’t like the smell of blood. Let’s go to the infirmary.” Though when he said that, you couldn’t see the look of concern on his face.
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⊱ Azul Ashengrotto
He was locked up in his office as per usual but you had some business to deal with. You had a temporary deal where to work for Mostro Lounge for money just for a week. Despite being a temporary employee you had the same expectations.
“Azul, please…” You bowed deeply to him. “Just let me go home early.”
“I don’t see why. It’s only been 3 hours and you have 2 more. Why not just finish off your shift for today.” He replied back with a displeased look.
“Because I have homework! I need those hours for studying.” You argued. He simply rolled his eyes and returned back to his paperwork.
“Very well, if you leave though you are terminated and won’t receive any compensation for the hours you’ve worked this week.” He said calmly with a smug look on his face.
You were about to grab him and shake him around. Until you sneezed, you covered your sneeze with your arm and held it there, feeling something was wrong.
“Your sleeve, that’s not sanitary for customers. You should get changed.” He grabbed a tissue and held it out to you. You removed your arm away from your face and stayed silent.
He almost yelled, key word almost, and stood up rushing over to you. “I don’t think this is normal for humans?! There’s so much blood…”
“Sorry I didn’t mean to get the uniform dirty.”
“I don’t care about that.” He abruptly said, “You need first aid.”
Even when you protested and guided you into his seat and pulled out the first aid kit.
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thespotforprinting123 · 1 year ago
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Buy Best Quality Custom Table Covers and Throws
Discover our Table Covers collection encompassing Table Runners and Table Throws. Utilizing state-of-the-art dye sublimation technology, we ensure premium print quality that boasts enduring and vibrant colors on fabric, providing the utmost longevity.
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tojisrealwifey · 6 months ago
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♡ MAIDS DON'T GET TIRED ♡ — s. gojo
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boss!gojo who inherits his deadbeat father's fortune and company after his father's sudden death (which he definitely had a hand in).
boss!gojo who at the ripe age of 20 was already pressured by the workload, not because of the reports or contracts, but because of the old geezers he had to tolerate.
boss!gojo who now lived alone in his 12,000 square meter glass mansion, hired 3 dozen housekeepers after letting go of the ones his father had kept.
boss!gojo who took an immediate interest in the youngest maid of the batch, her being over 5 years older than him.
boss!gojo who likes older women.
boss!gojo who starts making small talk during your working hours. he would ask you to sit with him during lunch making the other maids giggle at the boy.
boss!gojo who is excited when you agree after being asked for the 46th time.
boss!gojo who asks his chef to bring you the same meal as him, which you insist wasn't necessary. he doesn't take no for an answer.
boss!gojo who admires your unpolished table etiquette, but somehow your manners make the food on the table look 100x more appetizing, making him dig in as well.
boss!gojo who wants to spread you out and eat you instead.
boss!gojo who overhears the other maids teasing you with the name 'mrs. gojo' making you scold them with a blushed face. his ears turn red, pants gaining a sudden tightness.
boss!gojo who at late night can't stop fantasizing with his cock in his hand about you becoming 'mrs. gojo'.
boss!gojo who calls you into his office, giving you special tasks around the house. he orders you to clean his office only when he is around.
boss!gojo who doesn't hesitate to give you harder quests, such as cleaning the top shelves of his bookshelf, just to catch a look up your skirt like a perverted teenager (which he was).
boss!gojo who gets a custom uniform made for you to adorn during the time in his private office, one that is deeper on the neckline and shorter on the thighs. he can't stop ogling your breasts.
boss!gojo understands that by now you knew his intentions, not wasting any time to make a move.
boss!gojo who has you bent over his desk, panties clinging to your thighs, holding a tiny vibrator to your clit that has you dripping onto his office floor.
boss!gojo who forces you to clean his office with the bullet vibrator deep inside you, playing with the remote every time you bent over to flaunt your drenched pussy.
boss!gojo who eats you out in pathetic desperation, boxers painted in his precum. at first, he makes precise licks at your labia but he's smothering his face in your pussy seconds later.
boss!gojo who changes dynamics as soon as he's inside you.
boss!gojo who doesn't think twice about going in raw, wishing to feel every crevice of your pussy. he has you in missionary, suckling on your tits to hold his moans.
boss!gojo who is reduced to putty when you switch positions to ride him instead.
boss!gojo who can't help but cry when an accidental 'mommy' slips out of him.
"Ahh fuck you're so fucking sexy, [name]~" his head crashes onto the headboard, the squeaking of the bed loud in the room. Your thighs ached from bouncing on his ridiculously fat cock, his lap covered in your fluids. Wtih your tits jiggling in his face, he lets out a loud moan when you throw in a sudden praise. "So good, 'Toru~ Wanna keep fucking you like this, honey~!" You huff out with lust-filled eyes, your voice dripping with honey. "Please! Please, d-don't stop mommy!" You don't pause, but the kiss on his forehead makes his eyes well up, getting close to his orgasm. He was embarrassed to call you that, but your acceptance of it meant you'd be here for a good while.
boss!gojo who fucks you in every corner of his mansion.
boss!gojo who always finished inside you, birth control or not. he has enough money to provide for every baby he gives you
boss!gojo who revokes your status as a maid and promotes you to fiance in the next four months.
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a/n: wasn't gonna post this self-indulgent drabble but after chapter 261...i changed my mind for some reason. wasn't proofread!
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・❥・masterlist
・❥・requests : rules
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996 notes · View notes
nyankochan · 2 months ago
Text
Golden Hour
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synopsis: want to risk playing a game with the mob boss? if you win, whatever you want is yours. money. power. you name it. but are you willing to risk the stakes in you lose?
Pairing: Geto Suguru x casino dealer!reader
Content: afab!reader, Gojo being a menace, mean dom! Geto, dirty talk, Oral (f. Receiving), rough sex, penetrative sex (protection is used), after care, over stimulation, multiple orgasms, pet names, Geto has tattoos, size kink, I hope I didn’t miss anything but I apologize if I did
Word Count: 8.4K ಠ_ಠ
A/n: I actually have no idea how to play poker
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After working as a card dealer for Club Tengoku in the heart of Shibuya for seven years now, you’ve met your fair share of assholes and idiots. It honestly came with the job description you willing still took at just barely eighteen years old. It provided good money. Don’t get it wrong. It didn’t bring in nearly as much money as your clientele exhausted on a daily, but it still covered your meager bills and expenses.
The hardest part of the job honestly wasn’t even the few douchebags that cussed you out for “stealing their money” when they lost or the drunkards that openly flirted with you. No, it was maintaining a sense of professionalism and boundaries. No matter how bad you wanted to, you could never react the way you wanted. Screaming. Crying. Punching someone’s teeth out when they piss you off. No. You have to keep your composure, smile, and ask “would you like to play again?”
And the one time you broke that rule was because of him.
“Ughhh I hate this shitty job!” Your coworker and closest friend, Utahime, shouts exasperatedly slamming the locker door shut. “If one more creepy old bastard tries to hit on me then I may actually gouge his eyes out!”
“Please don’t get blood on the black jack tables,” you sigh, buttoning up the shirt to your dealer’s uniform. A simple black dress shirt and slacks. A gold trimmed vest with a black tie completes the look, identifying you as one of the dealers in Club Tengoku. “It was a pain in the ass to clean after that last fight you instigated.”
“That wasn’t my fault,” Utahime huffs under her breath, haphazardly throwing on her tie. You have to straighten it up for her. “Some idiot accused me of rigging the game when he lost 60 thousand yen.”
“One of these days you’ll get fired before you can quit.”
Utahime had worked at the Club as long, if not longer, then you. She had a short temper and less patience for assholes than you. Though she’s been written up a number of times for her behavior, you think the manager of the club keeps her on to keep plenty of pretty faces on staff to draw customers in.
That, and almost everyone on staff cannot quit until their debt is fully paid.
Likely if you work for Club Tengoku, then you either dumb or desperate. Sometimes both. Whatever reasons originally bring you to the Club, work, sex, pleasure, love, money, etc. you’re property of the owner, Zen’in Naoya, until he either gets sick of you or you pay your debts back. Either with your labor or with your body.
You aren’t quite sure how much Utahime owes but her contact with Naoya cited 12 years of employment. Yours thankfully was almost complete. 8 years. 8 years of work a the Club in exchange for covering the debts you gathered when your shitty ex scammed you and left you with his debts he gathered from a Host Club in Roppongi.
Apparently, the particular club had ties to the yakuza (not that you knew that at the time) and your punk of an ex skipped town after leaving you at the club by yourself. You being young and dumb, only 18, didn’t know what to do except to accept Naoya’s assistance as he happened to be there that night. In return, you had to work with him for 8 years to pay off the 100 million yen debt your ex accumulated. You’d be done in three months, finally.
You weren’t quite sure what to do after your contracted ended. You had enough money saved to move from Tokyo if you desired, but go where? You had no other friends or family outside of Utahime and your coworkers. Naoya wasn’t the worst but he had his moments. Since you behaved and kept to yourself most of the time, you never got put on his radar (not like you had any options at the time).
Maybe he’d let you stay a couple extra months to let you get back on your feet until you found another job. You didn’t really want to leave Utahime on her own either, but for the time being, you’d been searching for other opportunities.
At nine, your shift starts. You and Utahime enter the upper level where the casino is, met by the overstimulating noise of slots, coins dispensing and laughter. The scent of booze is nauseating, and gives you a headache along with the bright neon flashing lights of all the machines. Utahime is on the black jack table. Tonight, you’re at poker.
After rotating out the prior dealer, you take your spot behind the table. As usual, you take out a new deck of cards, freshly out of the package, and shuffle them, waiting for players to join your table. Two gentlemen eventually join, one of them with a woman hanging off his arm like an accessory.
“Welcome,” you say, perfectly rehearsed. “All games at Tengoku have a starting bet of 10 thousand yen. Are you ready to play?”
The first few hours honestly pass by in a blur. The first game concludes with the gentleman with the date wining 30 thousand to turn around and lose half of it the next round. Someone plays three of a kind. Another folds just to lose it all in the end.
It is long. Tedious. Full of mixed emotions from the clientele ranging from anger to grief. Nothing out of the ordinary as you quietly and discreetly manipulate the game from behind the scenes.
See, part of the dealer’s role at Tengoku was to make it interesting. So that Naoya doesn’t lose too much money, the dealers are all given special contacts or glasses that allow them to see through the cards. A slight difference in the shuffle can make a game quite interesting, to say the least.
“My, maybe this is just my lucky night, but how often do I get to see a pretty dealer at the casino?” A deep, yet suave, voice says. You fight the urge to roll your eyes as two gentlemen sit at your table. The white haired man, dressed impeccably in a three piece suit and sunglasses though indoors, leans in too close into your personal space. “Say, what do I have to do to win you as a prize?”
You fight the urge to make a face, and continue with your usual elevator speech. “Welcome. Games at Tengoku have a starting bet of 10 thousand yen. Are you ready to play?”
“Why not make it interesting?” The man smiles a charming smile. “Let’s raise and start off with 100 thousand, yeah?” Minus the gentleman that sat with him, the other three individuals at the table looked nervous. You however continue to do your job as expected.
“Understood, the starting bet for this round is 100 thousand yen.”
You shuffle the cards meticulously, discreetly folding the aces into separate parts of the deck so that when you deal them out to everyone, the white haired man is ensured not to have any high cards. When he looks at the hand he’s been dealt, you notice his eyebrows furrow, seemingly in both shock and perhaps annoyance, yet his poker face is rather good, so he doesn’t let off too much that he has a bad hand.
“Each chip is worth 10 thousand yen at this Club,” you say. “We will go clockwise starting from the dealer’s left.” Nodding towards the timid looking gentleman who sat at the end of the table to start, the game begins.
“C-check,” the man stammers, choosing not to add to the exuberant bid already.
“Raise,” said the black haired man that originally sat with his cocky-white haired companion. He slides five chips across the table, raising the bet amount to 150 thousand. He has a rather cool demeanor. You can’t tell from his composure what he’s thinking, but he seems somewhat bored, if you had to guess.
You can also tell that the man has serious money, him and his companion both. His sleek three-piece black suit fits perfectly tailored against his broad shoulders. A shiny watch glistens on his wrist as he absentmindedly rolls one of the chips across the table, only for it to fall a few inches away. And his hair, pulled back into a somewhat messy bun is the only “imperfection” to his otherwise perfect appearance.
The man notices your stare and smiles. You turn away, face warming at being caught.
“I’ll call,” the white haired man says confidently despite his bad hand, placing five chips of his own down. The last two players call, matching the current bet.
You flip over three cards: a three of spades, the six of diamonds, and the jack of hearts.
The game proceeds slowly, or at least, it seems that way, because the entire time, you can feel the black haired male’s gaze burning holes through your head. You have a rather strong poker face, and try not to let his stare intimidate you, but for some reason, it feels as if he’s reading you like an open book. I know what you’re trying to do, and it won’t work…you can almost hear him say.
Your eyes begin feeling dry from the contacts, so you want to wrap the game up as quickly as possible. But by the end of the game, he wins with a full house: two fours and three eights.
“Damn you Suguru,” the white haired man groans, throwing his hand on the table. He had an ace, a five, a seven, a nine, the jack of clubs, and a four. None of the suits matched up except for the ace and the jack. “Why are you so good at this game?”
The man, Suguru, smiles as you slide the stack of chips totaling 270 thousand across the table. Naoya will have your head knowing you lost that much, is all you can think of, so you don’t almost catch Suguru’s words that make your blood run cold.
“I just know the best way to counter a cheat, is all.” Suguru’s charming smile contorts to a chilling smirk, and you keep your gaze down, trying not to let your fear show.
“What? So one of you bastards was trying to cheat, huh?” His companion mistakenly assumes, looking between the other players at the table.
Suguru then slides the chips right back across the table. You try your best to regain your composure and hide your unease. “I’d like to play again, Little Dealer, and this will be my starting bet.”
Luckily, at that moment, your coworker comes to relieve you from your post. You quickly skitter away, like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, weaving through the crowd of the casino and disappearing just like that, missing completely the way Suguru frowns in dissatisfaction.
“Awe, I wanted to redeem myself in front of the cute dealer,” Gojo complains, rocking back in his seat so that the two front legs come off of the ground. “I had a shitty hand.” Geto stands from his seat and begins heading the direction you left. “Hey, where are you going? You left your chips.”
“You can have them,” Geto replies coldly. “I’m going to get a drink.”
“Bring me back a gin and tonic!”
Geto saunters around the casino, eyes scanning the scene. It’s far too noisy for his liking, and everything blends together, so he can’t pick out your small stature from the crowd, much to his annoyance. A headache gnaws at his temple, and a passing waitress comes at an all too perfect time with a tray of champagne, which he snags.
He knows you rigged the game. He knew from the moment you shuffled the cards. But he doesn’t know how you did it, and he was a curious yet greedy fellow. He had to know how you did it. And by a stroke of luck, he spots you coming out from a door labeled employees only, while rubbing your eyes.
“Those contacts seriously burn,” you think to yourself. Once relieved from your station, you rushed back to the employee locker rooms to take out the contacts. Though they appeared clear, no different from any standard contact, the chemicals they had in them to allow you to see through the cards irritated your retinas. If possible, Naoya preferred everyone who didn’t already wear glasses normally to wear the contacts to garner less suspicion from the guests. But after a few hours, the shits became unbearable to wear. And you couldn’t mess with your eyes without running the risk of another client, particularly Geto, catching on.
Something about that man unsettled you. He was nothing like the man he sat with, who was loud, prideful, and quite obnoxious. No, he was quiet and observed his surroundings like a predator surveying its territory before figuring out when and how to strike. You couldn’t be too sure if he caught on how you rigged the game. After all, you only intended to make winning difficult for his friend, because he got on your nerves. But even still, your sleight of hand should’ve been so slight that no one would have noticed. You’ve done it for almost eight years in a row without no one catching your little trick.
“So we meet again, Little Dealer.” You don’t have to turn around to know who the suave voice belongs to. As you’ve been trained over and over, your facial expression blanks before you turn around to face Geto after correcting your posture.
“Hello again, Sir. Is there something I can assist you with?” You say politely. Geto looks unamused. His gaze is even more intimidating up close. He downs the last bit of his drink and sets it on a nearby table.
“I want to play another round,” Geto says.
“Certainly,” you nod. “If you go to any of the tables, another dealer can-”
Geto’s grin widens and he leans in close to your ear, just barely a whisper against the deafening slot machines. “I want to play again with you, little cheater.” The crucial error on your part is when your expression wavers, and much to Geto’s surprise, you look terrified. Nonetheless, he knows he has you in the palm of his hand. You take a step to turn and book it, but Geto’s quicker, grabbing your wrist before you get too far.
You try and fail to wrench your hand free. “P-please don’t tell,” you muster up a whimper.
Geto’s smile falters briefly, a strange shiver running down his spine. It was strange to see the seemingly cool headed and composed dealer look suddenly so…helpless?
“My, my, is there a problem here that I should be aware of?”
Your eyes widen, and you quickly and this time, more forcefully, snatch your arm away from Geto. You turn and bow towards Naoya, who seemed to appear out of nowhere. His usual “secretary” stands at his side (though you and Utahime are 99% sure they’re fucking), and he wears a sickeningly fake smile that you can’t stand. You know he’s pissed, but is just trying to put on a facade to keep up appearances.
Geto is startled by the man’s sudden appearance. He came up right behind him, yet Geto didn’t detect his presence at all. And for you to suddenly submit so willingly…
“There are no issues, Mr. Zen’in,” you say, trying to hide the quiver in your voice. “I-I was just returning from my break, when this gentleman here approached me, inquiring about playing one of our games.”
Naoya’s eyes narrowed slightly. You feel your chest constrict as the sound of your heartbeat resonates within your ears. You hold your breath and try not to cry. If he found out you, inadvertently or not, revealed one of the club’s greatest secrets, you were as good as dead. Forget leaving the Club in three months. You would be Naoya’s until the day you die.
“Y/n, look at me,” Naoya demands. You slowly raise your head only to be met face to face with his sharp brown eyes. “Are you lying to me?” He hisses, quiet and low.
“N-no sir, never.”
“I had stopped to ask about another poker table,” Geto spoke up. “The one I was playing at got a little too rowdy, as some of the other guests likely had too much to drink. I had stopped her to see if there was another table I could play at.”
Naoya puts back on his fake smile, but he leans away from you, allowing you to finally breathe, to face Geto. “Of course,” the charismatic businessman says. “I apologize for the inconvenience Mr….”
“Geto. Suguru Geto.”
“Ah, of course.” Brief recognition flashes across Naoya’s face, before his attention is turned back to you. “Mr. Geto here is a V.I.P. guest of ours, so make sure you tend to his needs with utmost respect, got it?”
You nod, bowing your head. “Yes, Mr. Zen’in.”
“And Mr. Geto, please have a bottle of wine, of your choosing, on the house, if my employee here has caused you any problems.” Naoya walks off, his secretary in tow, who gives you a sympathetic look.
Though he’s gone, your heart doesn’t stop racing. For the 7 years you’ve been employed, you’ve managed to stay off of Naoya’s radar and complete your job without incident. Why did now, of all times, did you have to piss him off? Though on the outside, he didn’t seem like it, Naoya was terrifying, heir to the powerful Zen’in family whose connections were so deeply interwoven throughout Tokyo that pissing him off almost guarantees you’d never work anywhere in the city again. He controlled your fate. Geto surely knows the influence Naoya has to be considered a V.I.P. So why did he stick up for you?
Your hands tremble still as you bow in apology to Geto. “I’m sorry for any trouble I caused you tonight.”
“Are you really sorry if you can’t elaborate on what you did wrong?” Geto nonchalantly asks, making you flinch.
“I-”
“Hey! Suguru! I’ve been looking for you!” A loud voice makes Geto sigh and roll his eyes; the many distractions were starting to irritate him. With a pretty girl wrapped around his arm, the white haired man from earlier approaches his friend.
“What do you want, Satoru?”
“You never came back with my drink,” Satoru complains. “I thought maybe you would be at least getting head somewhere, not standing in the middle of the aisle looking stuck on stupid.” He pushes up his sunglasses with a goofy grin that only widens when he sees you. “Ah! It’s the dealer! Hey, I wanna rematch. That first round was a fluke. I need to redeem myself.”
“I-I’m sorry?”
“She’s done for the evening,” Geto cuts in. “Her shift just ended, right?” You dumbly nod along. Though, it was only a little past eleven, and your shift didn’t end until one.
“Too bad,” Satoru huffs. “Another time then! I won’t lose that badly again. My pride as a member of the Gojo family won’t allow it.” Then he’s gone, pulling the woman along with him. She giggles and snuggles up against his arm.
“I must be returning back to my shift then,” you say, putting back on your polite persona. “Have a good rest of your evening Mr. Geto.”
“Not so fast.” Geto catches you by the arm. “I said your shift just ended, did I not?”
“B-but I-”
“Let’s play a game,” he interrupts. “I don’t think you know who I am, but if you want me to keep my mouth shut about your little trick, then you’ll do as I say, got it?” You meekly nod, unable to pry your arm nor gaze away from the dark haired man. “Good. Now, go grab a deck of cards and meet me in the hall.”
His commanding voice, something about it was so attractive that you felt your face heating up as you scurried away to grab a deck of cards from one of the tables not in use. Your heart…you could feel it racing, but instead of the erratic pace it beat before Naoya, it was a somewhat fluttering feeling. And it made you nauseous.
As expected, Geto waits in the somewhat dim hallway just outside the casino. He leans against the wall, flipping what looks like to be a poker chip in the palm of his hand. Now that you get a better look at him, without all the fluorescent lighting and distractions, he’s pretty damn handsome. Tall. Well built. And dashing in a suit and tie. Your heart continues to flutter, annoyingly so. Once you approach, Geto straightens up, pocketing the poker chip.
“You’re quite obedient, aren’t you,” Geto muses. “Come, I’ve requested a private room where our game won’t be disturbed.”
You say nothing as you follow the man down the hall to the elevator. He holds the door open for you to enter, before pressing the button to take you up to the twelfth floor.
Club Tengoku doubles as a hotel, but the average cost of a room for one night is more than what you make in a year. It’s in the heart of Shibuya, so Naoya can charge whatever he wants, you supposed. The first three levels are all kinds of gambling rooms and bars. The first level of the basement is one of the Clubs. The B2 level…you’ve been there once and it’s not your scene.
“You look quite young to work at a place like this,” Geto comments, watching the number slowly climb higher.
“I just turned twenty five,” you mumble.
“Like I said, quite young.” The elevator opens. Geto exits first and you dutifully follow along, eyeing your surroundings with apprehension and curiosity, as your job never takes you anywhere besides the casino, and occasionally, the club. Everything looks expensive, even more so when Geto unlocks room 1205 to reveal an impressive suite so big it looks like a miniature apartment instead of a hotel room.
A large kitchenette connects to the living room where glass windows overlook Shibuya Scramble, which looks dazzling and dreamlike in the dark of night, still bustling as the name implies. It seems like there are at least two other rooms, but you don’t want to appear nosy and stand awkwardly by the door.
“Take a seat and make yourself comfortable,” Geto says, shedding his jacket. He takes two wine glasses out from the cabinet. “Do you want red or white wine?”
“I-I’m not allowed to drink on the job,” you reply, sitting on the edge of the leather couch.
“That’s not what I asked. Red or white.” Geto’s firm voice has your knees feeling weak, and you mumble white. Geto pours each of you a glass, setting the drink before you on the small table beside the couch. He sits directly across from you, swirling the wine within its cup.
You don’t quite know where to start, drumming your fingers against your legs while keeping your head down to avoid eye contact. Naoya would kill you knowing that you’re in a client’s private room. Not that some of your coworkers didn’t have intimate relations with some of their clients. It was quite common in fact. But that behavior was saved for the private rooms of the club. The hotel was off limits.
“Do you have a preference for what game we play?” Geto finally asks, after spending a few seconds just examining you, taking in all your features and nervous ticks, from the way you play with your fingers nervously or how your ears redden with embarrassment. Quite cute if you asked him to be honest (which he hardly was).
“N-no, Sir,” was your reply.
“Then how about Go Fish?” A simple game like that? Seemed rather mundane. “But let’s make it interesting,” Geto adds. “Any time someone gets a book, they get to ask the other any question they want to know, and they must answer honestly. The winner gets to make any request of the loser.”
“Why should I agree to your terms?”
Geto sips his wine, then sets the glass on the table. “I’ll tell your little boss that you let slip a company secret if you don’t. Wouldn’t want that, would you?” He takes your silence as compliance. “Shuffle the deck. No fancy tricks.”
You shakily take the deck out the box. You carefully shuffle, trying not to do anything that would raise suspicion. Once. Thrice. Four and you’re dealing them out. Geto goes first, but you’re the first to get a set of the eights.
“Who are you?” You ask.
“Geto Suguru, or was that not made clear before?”
“No, what is it that you do?” You clarify. “Why are you considered a V.I.P?”
Geto smiles. “You need another set to ask another question, sweetheart.”
Unfortunately, he obtains the next set. The twos.
“How did you cheat earlier at the poker table?”
You knew the question was coming. There was no point in lying. “Mr. Zen’in has special contacts imported from Macau’s black market that allow us to see through the cards.” Geto stares at you, waiting for you to elaborate more to which you remain silent. He then chuckles.
“This game is going to be quite interesting.” Next, he gets all the queens. “Why did you intentionally deal Satoru a bad hand instead of all the players?”
“He was annoying. That’s all.” Luckily, you have the next set. “What kind of job do you have, Mr. Geto, that makes you a V.I.P. here?”
Geto shrugs. “I dabble in a lot of different things. It’s better to have your hand in several different pots instead of putting all your eggs in one basket, no?” That doesn’t answer the question in the way you were hoping, but you let it slide. And the next question is yours to ask.
“What brought you to the casino? Forgive me, but you don’t seem like the type of man to indulge in gambling.”
“Oh?” Geto leans back slightly. “What type of man do you think I am?”
Your face warms as you realize the implications of your words. After clearing your throat, you add, “it’s not your turn to ask a question.”
“Fair, fair,” Geto laughs. “Let’s just say, I’m very greedy, and I enjoy the casino’s opportunity for more.” He places down the four twos. “Now, why do you work here?” The man then places down all four sevens. “And what’s your relationship with that Zen’in guy?”
Him placing back to back sets throws you off. It not only puts you in the awkward spot of having two questions to answer, but it also places Geto in the lead. And your current shitty hand doesn’t have a potential match in sight.
“I…inquired some debts when I was 18,” you answer after a brief moment to collect your thoughts. Geto patiently waits for you to continue. “Mr. Naoya Zen’in covered them under the condition that I worked for him for eight years…” you pause, biting your lip, but your opponent shows no emotion towards your response and the game continues.
In the end, you hardly learn anything about Geto and he pries out much of your life story, additionally sealing his own victory when the game concludes. “Looks like victory is mine,” he says the obvious part out loud. He’s a little disappointed by how soon the game ended, not because he enjoyed it (well partially), but he didn’t quite find out all he wanted to know about you, yet. You were vague but honest when answering questions about your debts, but Geto still couldn’t understand why someone like Naoya would do anyone a favor. Let alone why you worked under him in the first place.
With the kind of work Geto did on a daily basis, he was quite familiar with the Zen’in family and often did business in other areas, but he always remained cautious to not become too intertwined with the web of a trap that was Naoya Zen’in. If Geto considered himself to be greedy, then Naoya would be insatiable, utilizing any means necessary to secure more power for himself. You were hiding something about your relationship with him, which was fine with Geto. He’d find out sooner or later.
“Now, for my prize,” Geto ponders for a moment and during the time, your breath hitches. The next moment, he’s in your face, so close that hints of his cologne tickle your nose. He’s so close that the slightest miscalculation in movement could make your lips touch. Antisly, you press your thighs together, heat burning between them, and you hope that he can’t hear how loud your heart beats. Geto grins, then backs away. “I will cash it out on another day.”
Your mouth falls agape, but no words leave your lips. Owing a debt to Geto Suguru? What game did you just become a part of?
He doesn’t tell you when he plans to claim his reward for winning the game, nor does he give you a way to contact him to inquire about it. After he escorts you to your car, because by that point it was pushing three in the morning, Geto leaves in a black Cadillac, and for the next few days, you don’t see him at the casino.
As the days roll by, work still mundane and Utahime still complaining about her clients, you grow increasingly anxious. On top of that, Naoya calls you into his office once to reprimand you about not causing any issues. You’re sure he doesn’t believe Geto’s white lie, but he doesn’t question nor bring up the contacts. For now, you’re safe, unless Geto goes back on his word and spills what he knows.
Geto’s white haired friend, Gojo, if you remember correctly, does come back every night without fail, spending upwards of a hundred thousand every time as if it were monopoly money. Must be nice to be able to waste money like it worthed nothing.
He kind of grows on you after you look past his cocky and annoying persona, keeping you company when you are not dealing for any games or cleaning up tables. You badly want to ask him about Geto, but opt out too in fear of it being misinterpreted. Luckily though, Gojo is not as tight-lipped as his companion, and often reveals too much information without you asking, especially if he’s had a few drinks.
“I can’t believe that Suguru didn’t fuck you the other night given how much he won’t shut up about you,” Gojo says out the blue, his speech somewhat slurred as he takes a sip from his third glass of whiskey. “I’ve never heard him bitch about wanting somebody so much.”
“G-Geto talks about me?” You try your best to hold your composure, but you can feel the heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck. If that was the case, then why did he avoid the casino? Or was he just avoiding you?
“Does he? That’s all I’ve literally been forced to hear about all week,” Gojo huffs in annoyance. “We were at the club the other day and he showed no reaction whatsoever to any of the dancers while I had such a bad fucking hard on I couldn’t think straight!” He rests his cheek against his fist, nearly drunkenly falling off the poker table. Hints of striking blue irises peek over the rims of his dark sunglasses. “Hmm, I guess you got a cute face. Can’t see much of a body from the uniform though. You sure you didn’t get freaky with him? No strip tease or anything?”
You recall the scent of Geto’s cologne. The subtle flex and tensing of his muscles through his shirt with each movement. How his presence alone commanded authority, yet the taunting glint in his eye would suggest something else. Something more alluring and mischievous.
When you realize you’ve yet to give Gojo an answer, who by now was looking at you with a knowing look, you quickly try to deny the accusations. “You don’t have to explain yourself,” the white haired man teases. “He’s an asshole, but an attractive one at that. Any woman would drop their panties for him. Well, probably guys too, but that’s besides my point.”
By a stroke of luck or a cruel twist of fate the devil himself appears, this time wearing a navy blue suit and a rather unamused expression at hearing his best friend’s drunken rambles. Though he only caught the end of the conversation, knowing Satoru, anything that came out of his mouth was likely sexual, inappropriate, or some combination of both.
“Don’t you have to go be annoying somewhere else?” Geto sneers.
“Not until four,” Gojo replies, trying to look down at his watch but is wasted enough that he looks at the wrong wrist.
Geto frowns, trying to swallow back the strange irritation that tugs at his chest. “Let’s play another round of cards, Little Dealer,” he turns his attention toward you.
“Ohh is that your hidden code word for fucking each other?”
Ignoring the man, Geto merely flips him off, guiding you away, a gentle hand on the small of your back, after you procured a deck of cards. As the two of you head for the elevator, you pass Utahime and another one of your coworkers. Utahime’s eyes widen and you mouth to her, “don’t tell Naoya.” Your friend merely responds with a thumbs up and an oddly proud look.
Like before, the ride up is uncomfortably quiet. Geto doesn’t even look in your direction, his jaw set and eyebrows furrowed in clear annoyance. Was he possibly…jealous that you were with Gojo?
“Um…where were you these last couple days?” You try to break the silence. Geto still doesn’t look your way, watching the number of the elevator climb to ten.
“Busy with work,” is all he says before the doors slide open.
You find yourself in a similarly designed room as the other night, back to the same set up as before: sitting across from each other with a deck of cards on the table between you two. Geto takes off his suit jacket. You try not to stare, but the action was just so damn attractive to watch.
“Shall we play another game of Go Fish?” Geto speaks once he’s comfortable. “Same rules as before.”
“But you didn’t cash out your request from the previous night, so how is that fair?” You ask.
“Hmm…then how about this. If you win, I’ll fulfill any request of yours. If I win, you’re mine once your contract ends with Zen’in.”
You freeze, blood running cold. You never told him that your contact would be up soon. You made sure to dance around the question, so how did this man find out?
“Just who are you?”
Geto grins. “Play the game to find out.”
You shuffle the cards. Geto deals them out. You look at the hand you’ve been dealt and off the bat it doesn’t look the best. No surprise when Geto gets the first set, but his question throws you off.
“What do you want to do once your contract ends with Zen’in?”
You blink in confusion, but answer honestly. “I haven’t really thought about it. I don’t know who I am outside of this job.”
The next set and question is yours. “What is your real job?”
“I guess the proper term would be Boss,” Geto hums. “But Head of the Geto Family Syndicate works just as well.”
Your heart tightens. “You’re yakuza…”
“If that’s what you want to call it.”
Just your shitty luck. Why does fate hate you so? No matter what you do, you can’t seem to get away from the mob, even though you aren’t intentionally seeking them out. Even worse, you’ve been dancing right in the palm of the boss’s hand all while ogling him while he wasn’t looking. And to make matters worse, if you lose, you will be leaving one contract just to walk straight into another.
No. You won’t let that happen. Not again.
“Why do you want me to work for you?” You ask next after securing another set.
“I never said work for me,” Geto corrects. “I said you would be mine.”
“What does that entail?”
The man grins. “You can’t ask two questions, but to answer your first, I want you because I’m greedy like that. If I find something interesting or worthwhile, why would I not try to keep it?”
His stare is intense, daunting yet enticing. Why did he have to be so tempting? You should have never agreed to play along, because you were spiraling faster than you could control.
“What are you thinking about right now?” Geto asks, placing down another set.
Before you stop yourself, you respond, “that I want you, but I can’t.”
“Says who?” Geto prods. When did he get so close? One moment he’s on the opposite side of the couch, and the next, he’s inches away from your face. His familiar cologne fills your nose in a comforting touch.
“You’re dangerous.”
“You’re surrounded by danger already from working for Zen’in. What’s stopping you now?”
Your eyes meet his dark ones, serious but oddly soft. “I’m scared that I will enjoy it more than I should.”
“Sweetheart, you say that like it’s a bad thing.”
And his lips were on yours. You aren’t quite sure who leaned in first, not that it mattered. He tastes faintly of liquor, but is otherwise gentle. However, he doesn’t linger long, much to your dismay, pulling away after a few seconds too soon to admire your flustered face.
“Let’s call the game here,” Geto says, slightly out of breath. “You were in the lead, so what is it that you want from me?” He cups your chin, forcing you to maintain eye contact as you ask.
“Can you kiss me again?”
Geto does without complaint, this time with more urgency. His scent is suffocating. Your head feels hazy, scrambled thoughts only on the man before you and the way his gentle touch electrifies your skin. A soft moan leaves your lips as Geto kisses across your jawline.
“Is a kiss truly all you want?” he teases all while loosening the tie around his neck. “You could stand to be a little more greedy, you know?” He pops one button of your vest open. Then the second. Then the last, sliding the material down your shoulders. “If you want something from me, you need to use your Big Girl words, or else I can’t help you.”
“I…” The words are stuck in your throat. What did you want? Was it okay for you to want something? “I don’t wanna…” a small whimper leaves your lips as Geto’s teeth grazes the side of your neck after unbuttoning your shirt’s collar. “Don’t wanna be selfish.”
“And I’m telling you to be. Now what do you want, sweetheart?”
“I want you, Suguru.”
The sound of his name on your lips is heavenly, and Geto forgets about teasing you any longer. He pins you to the couch with ease, using one hand to grip your wrists while the other pulls at your shirt, the buttons popping off one by one, all while his lips are on yours again, sucking on them until they’re swollen. His hands tickle your sides as he explores your body, stopping only to unclasp your bra. The cool air makes you shiver.
Kissing you was sweet and addicting, and he wanted…no, needed, to know what you tasted like elsewhere. Swiftly, Geto picks you up, the couch not spacious enough. He clumsily stumbles to one of the bedrooms, his mouth attaching to one of your bare breasts. You whimper as he bites at your sensitive nipple.
“Suguru,” you moan, tugging at his hair, pressing your chest closer making Geto grunt. You end up pulling his hair out of its bun, his black locs cascading down his shoulders. As you both tumble into the king sized bed, it tickles your nose.
“Before we go any further,” Geto suddenly pulls away, walking around to the nightstand. He rummaged through one of the drawers before finding a box of condoms. “Do you have any hard boundaries?” At the shake of your head, he nods. “Still, give me a safe word just in case I’m too much.”
You think for a moment before answering, “gold.”
“Good,” Geto says. He undoes the first few buttons of his dress shirt, tattoos peeking across his collarbone. “Cause if you need me to stop, you’re going to have to scream it, because I’m going to keep going until I have my fill of you.”
Geto grabs you by your waist, dragging you to the edge of the bed while pulling your slacks down to your ankles. He settles between your legs, bending down to give a slow lick up up your clothed pussy, tasting your wetness that’s seeped through the fabric. You gasp, back arching off the bed. Groaning at your sweet taste, Geto could feel his cock stir within his pants.
“Fuck…I’m going to savor this.” He pulls your panties down with his teeth. His hot breath on your cunt has you dripping with need. Your pretty lips are already glistening.
“Suguru, please,” you whimper.
“Whatever you want.” Pressing his tongue, he takes a long slow lick up your folds. The sensation is electrifying, high pitched moans leaving your lips which you try to cover with your hand.
Geto spreads your legs open wider, pressing his mouth as close as he can get to your cunt. He is aggressive, messily slurping up all you offer. His tongue weaves through your folds, and his harsh sucks against your clit makes you cry out, fingers gripping at his long hair.
“Gods you’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” Geto groans, the pain of you tugging at his scalp turning him on just as much as the taste of your arousal on his tongue. “Fuck, baby, pull my hair more.”
“Fuck! Suguru I’m gonna cum.”
“Then cum.”
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you pull at Geto’s hair roughly, making a throaty groan leave his lips. The built up pressure in your abdomen snaps, and euphoria rocks your body as your orgasm hits you hard. Your release coats Geto’s tongue, and he’s greedy, continuing to drink you up until your legs are trembling from overstimulation.
“T-too much! W-wait-“ you whimper, writhing away. Geto’s grip on your thighs tightens. He delivers one last hard suck against your clit before pressing a parting kiss against your sloppy lips.
“Don’t try to leave me now, sweetheart,” Geto says. He unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, sliding it down his broad shoulders. Two intricate tattoo sleeves cover his arms from his collarbone down to his wrists. They’re dark yet beautifully done, adding to his handsome appeal. Who knew tattoos could be so sexy.
“I said I’m going to have my way with you until I have my fucking fill, and merely having your taste on my tongue won’t satisfy me.” Geto loosens his belt, already feeling some sort of relief from the way his aching cock pressed against his pants. Fuck. The way he needed you was maddening. His body was hot and just begging to be inside you, to feel your walls clench around him, to have you close and crying out his name.
“Come’ere,” Geto instructs. “Crawl.”
You shakily get on to your hands and knees, crawling to the edge of the bed where he stood. Your face feeling hot from embarrassment but your body betraying you in the way you could feel your needy pussy throb in anticipation. Geto almost loses what little composure he has left when you stare up at him through your lashes, innocent and cute.
“I don’t think I need to spell it out for you. Help me out, will ya?” Geto watches while you loosen his pants so that they fall to the floor. You’re slightly nervous looking at the size of the bulge pressing against his boxers, and your suspicions are confirmed when you pull his erection free. He’s big, thick and stiff against his abdomen, twitching ever so slightly as the cool air teases him. The tip’s an angry red, leaking pre cum already, and you’re dying for a taste.
Geto himself could almost sigh in relief. Any longer and he thought he’d burst. He tears open a condom and gives it to you. “Put it on for me?” You do, rolling it over his length, teasingly slow. Geto shivers at your touch. “Such a damn minx.” He flips you on your backside, aligning himself at your entrance and kissing your jaw. “Tell me your safe word again.”
“Gold,” you reply.
“Good fucking girl.” Geto bottoms out in a single thrust, ripping a moan from your lips. “Fuckkk,” he groans. “Fucking knew you’d fit around me perfectly.”
He experimentally moves his hips, the stretch of his cock filling you deliciously all the way and kissing the deepest parts of your spongy walls. Geto curses again, folds your legs over his shoulders, and rams into you until you’re seeing stars.
“A-h f-fuck S-suguru-“ You babble incoherently. Your mind blank and the air knocked out of your lungs as his cock kisses your cervix again. And again. And again until seconds later you’re creaming around him.
“Such a messy cunt,” Geto chuckles, admiring the ring of your arousal that coats his length as he bullies into your weepy hole, not stopping just because you came. “Just listen to the sound of her sucking me in. She doesn’t want to let me go. Fuck. Gripping me so tightly I could fucking burst. Greedy. Greedy. Just fucking greedy.”
“Fuck-Suguru, s’too much!” You felt lightheaded. He’s too rough, chasing his own high. And with the position he has you in, his cock presses so deep. His face sheens with sweat causing his hair to stick to his face, and his eyes glossed over, solely focused on bringing you over the edge.
“Awe, it’s too much?” Geto taunts, dragging his cock back out slowly, allowing you to feel every inch before slamming back in. “I never said I’d be nice. Go on, give me another orgasm then maybe I’ll consider slowing down.”
You felt your stomach tightening, tears brimming your eyelashes. “S-so mean,” you whimper.
Geto grins. “Mean? I’m just a greedy fucking bastard who wants more than what he needs. I won’t be satisfied unless I have you cumming around my cock over and over until you don’t remember anything else but the way my cock molds your pussy into its shape and the name of the man who fucks you silly.”
He grips your chin, kissing into you with urgency. Your moans muffled into small whines as you arch off the bed, raising your hips to meet his that still when his orgasm hits. Geto groans, biting your lip. He releases into the condom feeling his abdomen constrict and heavy balls tighten to the point of breaking. His body rocks, his face burying into the crook of your neck as the hard orgasm hits him with intensity.
“Ugh…fuck fuck…” Geto captures your lips again, this time more gentle. “Damn I’ve never cum that hard.” He checks to make sure you’re ok, wiping the stray tears that rolled down your cheek. “You okay, sweetheart?”
“Mhm…just…blissful…” you mutter sleepily, completely fucked out to the point of exhaustion. Geto laughs.
“Wait one second.” He slowly pulls out, tying the condom up carefully not to spill anything. He disappears into the bathroom only to return a moment later with a wet, warm towel. As he wipes you down, Geto secretly admires his handy work, the hickies and marks already starting to darken purple.
“What are you doing?” You ask, wincing when you try to sit up. Your hips were on fire and your legs felt like jello.
“Taking care of you?” Geto responds as if it were obvious.
“Why?”
“Why?” He scoffs. “I can be a gentleman too, you know.” His eyes soften seeing your slight discomfort. “You aren’t hurt, are you?”
“No, it’s okay,” you answer honestly. “I liked it.”
“Good.” Geto presses a kiss to your temple, settling beside you. “Cause I intend for this not to be the last time.”
Your gentle smile turns into a frown. Sure…it was great now. But in 3 months time, who knew where you’d be at? Your contract will end with Naoya, if he doesn’t find out what you’ve done beforehand and fires you or extends your time with him. Plus, it wasn’t like you could have a relationship with Geto, or a normal one at that. With his line of work, it would be impossible. And did you truly want to get involved knowing it was how you ended up in your current situation in the first place?
“What are you thinking about in that pretty head of yours?” Geto questions. Though meant to be lighthearted, there’s underlying concern in his voice.
“There can’t be a next time,” you say. “In three months, I’m free from Naoya and can leave. So we should just say our farewells now before we get too attached.”
Geto stares at you blankly for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. “You’re so cute, trying to act all serious and considerate.” He pinches your cheek making your pout.
“Stop, I’m serious.”
“And so was I,” Geto counters. When you avoid eye contact, he turns your cheek to face him. “In fact, you actually still owe me from our first game of Go Fish. I don’t quite remember cashing in my request. So I’m using it now: in three months, when your contract ends, you are to come stay with me.”
“But I-“
“I can arrange for you to work or do whatever hobbies you want. That is not a problem. I won’t let anyone or anything hurt you, so just stay by my side. Can you fulfill this one selfish request of mine?”
His words are sincere. His touch is gentle, and you find yourself leaning into his embrace despite your better judgment. You’re surprised by how hard his heart’s racing. “Okay,” you finally answer. “I’ll go with you.”
Geto visibly relaxed. His arms wrap themselves around you. “Good…I promise. I’ll protect you.”
You’re foolish. You’re playing a dangerous game that could end up with you getting hurt instead.
But Geto Suguru is a greedy man.
What he wants, he gets.
And he always takes precious care of what is his.
305 notes · View notes
hoshigray · 2 years ago
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Now look here, it's sugardaddy! x sugar baby! reader time >>:3 So here's the rundown: the reader is a college senior who works part-time in a diner and finds out that their favorite customer, Toji, is a sugar daddy and wants to initiate courtship. Although it is a proposition you fail to see yourself saying no to, is this something you can see yourself being in the long run?
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A/n: This prompt was picked on a poll to celebrate getting over 50 followers, only for me to get to 100 right after!!?? Y'all...can I give you a hug? ;w; No, oh okay. Anyways, I won't make another poll, BUT I'll be opening thirsts/requests soon!! >:D I just gotta make myself a disclaimer list before we let those lil fantasies of yours fly, lol. But yeah, this is my first time posting a fic over 1k+, so I hope y'all like it. Also, bonus: there's art drawn by Moi (@hoshigaby)?? You'll have to scroll down to find it tho :33 Okay, I'm sorry, go ahead and read!!!
Cw: soft dom! Toji x fem! reader - implied age gap (the reader is in their early 20s, Toji's around early or mid-30s) - mating press - cervix fucking - oral (fem! receiving) - pussy drunk Toji - breeding - daddy kink - overstimulation (fem! receiving) - pet names (baby, babygirl, darlin', good girl, honey, kid/kiddo, mama, princess, sweetie, sweetheart) - praise - clitoral play (Toji pinches your clit) - reader isn't a virgin but, it's the first time you and Toji have sex.
Wc: 4.9k
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"Oh look, your favorite is here."
10 o'clock, it's closing time. All the servers and bussers are ready to buss down tables and sweep the floors, hosts at the front split up tips and head straight home, and the cooks clean the kitchen and throw out the trash. All there's left is the silence of the dining area, where not a single customer is in sight.
Well, minus the one Utahime points out to you.
You turn to the bar area, where almost all the tables are empty, and all the high-rise televisions are turned off. All but for one, which was showing a football game.
A man is watching the screen, sitting in a booth at the far end with a glass of beer on the table. He's wearing a black turtleneck covered with a denim jacket, white fur on the collar, and a silver chain contrasting the black clothing. You gaze downwards to his black jeans pants, where his left foot seems to be tapping the ground. He's waiting for someone.
Once his eyes catch your approaching figure, his deadpanned face shows a smile in recognition. He was waiting for you.
And you smile back as you walk towards him.
The familiarity with this man comes from a year working at the diner. His name is Toji Fushiguro, and he's been a regular even before you started working here. And to make things funnier, he was the first customer you served after a week and a half of training. You can recall when you accidentally put milk and sugar in his specifically requested black coffee, to which you apologized profusely ("Heh, it's alright, darlin'" He flashed a smile that was meant to reassure you. "The first time that's ever happened to me.").
It was there that you found yourself being the only person that's served him. At first, you thought of it as some sort of joke after the coffee mishap, but now, unless you're there to take his order, he'll only have a beer or black coffee with all the other servers. The crew often pokes fun at you, stating you're the older man's favorite. And you gotta admit, it makes your heart swoon knowing this is true.
"There she is," Toji watches you approach him with his foot finally stopped tapping the checkered floor beneath him. "My adorable lil' server."
You giggle as you sit on the cushioned booth seat across from him. "It's good to see you, Mr. Fushiguro. I hope life's been good for you." You wave goodbye to the guy behind the bar counter, who turns off the TV still on as Toji focuses on something else. You promised to be the last person to turn off the lights and lock the doors before leaving, so now it's just you and Toji.
"I thought I told you to drop the Mr. Fushiguro, kid." He reprimands you with his playful smile, the right corner of his lip quirking his scar upward. "And I could ask you the same thing. How's college goin', darlin'?"
An exaggerated sigh leaves your system. "It's going alright. Can't believe I'm about to be done after the next semester, but the senioritis hasn't hit me too strong yet, thank God. And I can't wait to graduate with all this debt on my back~!" You flash the fakest beaming smile with two thumbs up.
Toji chuckles at your fraud enthusiasm. "Mmmm, I bet. But I know you're smarter than me and most people who work for me, so I'm sure you'll do just fine."
"Yeah, I'd like to think so, too." Your chipper attitude dwindles, and Toji notices the change in tone.
"What's up? You don't think you'll get yourself a job?"
"Umm, well," You cough to clear your throat from awkwardness. "I tried signing up for plenty of internships. Some of them shut me down, others just haven't replied back. And I guess it's just me overthinking, but I worry that I won't get a job in something I like..."
"Aww, princess," Toji rises from his cushioned spot to move to your side, sitting close to you with his big jean-covered thigh brushing yours. He places a hand on your back to rub comforting circles. "That's just the thoughts in your head."
You groan into your hands. "I know, that's why I don't know why I'm beating myself up about it so much... But it's okay! I know I'll be fine because I still have this job keeping me going for a year."
Toji raises a brow. "You wanna be a server all your life? Wanna serve me my black coffee and BLT sandwich til my last breath?"
You hit his chest in amusement. "Well, no, but if it comes down to it, I don't mind. I'll just take up more jobs or maybe make a side hustle. Either way, I know Mei Mei will help me out. I'm sure everyone here will if they have the chance."
"I could also help you."
Your hands instantly go up defensively. "No, Mr. Fushiguro, I wouldn't want that! I'm sure you're pretty busy, and I don't want my troubles to burden you."
Toji's eyebrows knit together, his sharp eyes surveying your defensive stance. "It wouldn't be trouble if I'm the one offerin' to help you, honey."
"Yes, but even so..." You look at your lap as your fingers dance with each other to ease your anxiousness. "It would feel unbefitting to have a customer — a valuable one such as you — to help me with my financial problems. Seeing you smile at me when I serve you your coffee...I'm perfectly content with just."
Your gaze locks into your fidgety fingers, saying the last part was probably unnecessary. Yet it was true; Toji had always been patient with you whenever he stopped by, even going the extra mile by giving you a seriously generous tip after his meals. You know you didn't deserve it, but he's already at the door before you can argue with him. If his gracious action was just a mere small percent of what he could do, then he's done plenty for you than needed.
Toji, however, didn't see it that way. He hums as he leans back onto the booth seat, his hand now snaking to the back of your neck, his thumb caressing the nook of your neck and trapezius.
"Well," He breaks the silence, you're listening. "What if we take this outside of customer service?"
The brows are pulled together as you turn to him in slight confusion. "What do you mean by that?"
"I've been thinking for quite a while," with his hand maneuvering to rest on your shoulder, he sighs and straightens himself up. "Your manager, Mei Mei, right? I talked with her not too long ago, telling her how much of a hard worker you are and how even while still in school and suffering with assignments, you still smile and make sure the customers enjoy their time here."
You give him a thanks, and he continues on. "Which is why I told her about what I wanna do. So here's my proposition: I'll pay for everything for you. Your debt, bills, clothes, whatever it is your pretty lil' head is worryin' 'bout."
Toji's promise does sound comforting to the ears, but you think about your part in all this. "So, do I have to work for you?"
He chuckles. "No, baby, not working fr' me. But there is something I want you to do."
"Yes?"
Toji doesn't give you a clear answer, staring at your face with a soft smile. You wonder why he's being odd until his face leans forward, and the hand on your shoulder pushes you into a kiss. You let out a yelp into his mouth, but the shock diminishes once you succumb to his warm, intoxicating lips. He tastes like beer, definitely from his drink.
He removes his lips from you, and you faintly exhale in an unsteady breath. "Mmmm, yer too much fr' me, sweetie." Toji groans and kisses down your neck while you place a hand on his chest to grip his turtleneck for support before you dissolve into his arms. And although you shouldn't be at your work at this time of night doing this, it felt too good to end.
"I want you to be with me," Toji says in-between smooches on your neck, moving to paint the other side with his pecks. "You're so good to me, darlin', always being such a good girl." He nibbles on your clavicle, and a soft gasp rewards his eardrums. "Lemme take care of you, y/n."
All that's going through your head is the feeling of his lips on your body and the arousing throbbing sense happening in your nether core.
"Hmm, whaddya say, baby?" His lips are too close to your ear as he playfully bites the lobe. Your thighs rub against one another, and you know there's a wet spot in your panties. "Gonna be my perfect girl?"
If you don't give him an answer quick, you're bound to melt right on this seat, and being a whimpering mess to his touch is embarrassing enough.
"Haaaah...Y-yes," You finally answer in weak whispers, mind spinning and eyes glossy. "I wanna—Ahaaa...I wanna be yours."
You can feel Toji's lips curl into a smile. He lifts his head to look at you, and a hand comes up to cup your face before he gives you a soft kiss on your quivering lips.
"My good girl."
⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆
A few months have passed since you and Toji formed this new relationship. And getting used to certain things is still a challenge.
For one: covering up your new lifestyle is never easy when you're out with people you know. During winter break, you went to dinner with your friends and offered to pay for the whole table. They looked at you as if you were talking nonsense ("Girl, where the hell you get that kind of money to be covering for all of us?" "For real, is this the same diner you've been working at? Are they hiring?").
Another thing that wasn't easy to get accustomed to was Toji spoiling you. Since you're a college student, Toji only sees you every other weekend when he has time. During those days, Toji doesn't hold back in showering you with gifts and affection. Between the fancy dates in expensive restaurants, riding rides at fun amusement parks, or the bags of new clothes you bring back to your dorm, it was something you didn't expect to happen so quickly. Your roommates constantly tease you about this "mystery man" who makes it known you're his special lady.
But outside of that, the most significant change was you and Toji. To say you two got closer was too easy to put into words. Sure, the money was there, so you could finally get a good night's rest without worrying too much about your school debt or bills. However, you knew this went beyond the dollar bills and the fancy clothes.
Come to find out, Toji knows and remembers things that amaze you. There was a time he bought you a whole wardrobe worth of dresses because he remembered you had to cancel dates with your friends since you had nothing cute to wear. Or the time he got you a box of your favorite teas, even though you briefly mentioned them to him during a talk way back from recollection.
And even away from the materialistic things, you can feel how much Toji loves you. You can feel it in his eyes whenever he's looking at you. You can feel it when you try to argue yourself out of trying an outfit you don't think will be good on you, but Toji coaxes you into it because he knows — not thinks, knows you'll look good wearing it. You can feel it in his hands when they hold yours, when he places a hand on your thigh and rubs it in loving warmth, or when he caresses your cheek when he kisses you goodbye when you two have to return to your own lives.
It's a type of love you didn't see yourself being on the other end of. The more immersed you are, the harder it is to imagine yourself out of it.
Spring break is now upon us, and Toji has invited you to join him overseas for a business trip. You tried to decline, saying it's his trip and you don't want to intrude on his business. That argument was immediately shut down ("Tch, believe me, sweetheart, you're saving me from bashing someone's head in if you're close to me than not. Plus, I wanna see you wear that cute swimsuit I got you."), so he dragged you on his private jet, and now we're here.
During the day is when he's away for work, so you spend the morning either in the penthouse suite you two are staying in, outside taking pictures to show Toji later or looking around at the little shops nearby. Toji is done with work around the early afternoon, so you two spend time together exploring the country, trying new foods, and taking walks around the area while talking about how your day went until the sun goes down.
Everything goes well until Thursday when Toji texts you saying something happened at work and that he'd be at the suite later than usual. Well, it's 7:45, the sun is starting to go down, and Toji is still nowhere in sight. I hope everything is alright on his end.
You're unsure about going outside for a walk on the off-chance you stay out too late. And if something happens to you while Toji isn't close by, that'll give him more to worry about on his plate, and you definitely don't want that for him.
So, you look around the penthouse to see if there's anything to keep you occupied until Toji's return, and then what catches your eye is the swimming pool outside on the terrace which you haven't tried yet. That'll do!
You go to change into a swimsuit, a cute two-piece that Toji bought for you when you two went shopping together. After a quick shower, you enter the pool and enjoy the calm waters while watching the sunset, leaving a beautiful array of colors painting the sky over you.
Tomorrow is your last day here while Toji will do business, and then you're back to school on Monday. The fact that you'll be graduating debt free still blows your mind. Toji really fulfilled his promise and took care of your worries.
Is that to say that your relationship ends once you touch that diploma?
You lift your feet and lay on your back to allow the water to hold you up, ears covered in the water and face looking into the sky as you're lost in your thoughts.
It wouldn't be too far off if Toji wanted to close this whole thing off when you graduate, as the point was for you to not worry about debt and such. That much you understood from the very beginning. But what happens after that? Do you two just go back to being acquaintances that only meet at the diner? And what about the stuff he got you? Do they stay with you forever? And do you have to fight memories of him every time you see them?
What about all the touches, all the hand-holding, all the cuddles, and all the kisses? Are they supposed to mean nothing to you the next time you see his face?
You're thankful for the water keeping you afloat in the pool, but having these thoughts attack your brain just makes you want to sink in loathing.
Until you feel something tickle your feet, having your body react in a state of panic. No longer floating on your back, you search for whatever is torturing your feet. Only to find Toji in front of you wearing black trunks, he chuckles lowly, and your heart sinks in embarrassment.
"T-Toji," You swim up to greet him. "How long were you back from work?"
"For about 10 minutes," He watches you move through the water, following you to sit in the shallow part of the pool for you two to talk. "I saw you in the pool and thought I'd join. I tried callin' out to ya, but the water was blocking your ears."
"Hehe, sorry about that. I was thinking about something. How was work?"
His face went into a deep scowl with rolled eyes, and you giggle at his nonverbal response. "Had I not known I was comin' back here to see you, I'd probably fucked that rookie up."
"That bad?"
He hums and brings you closer to him with his hand on your shoulder. "But don't worry 'bout it. And you? What were you thinking about?"
"Hmm? Oh, it was nothing," your encouraging response is fictitious.
Toji lowers a brow. "Try again."
"No, honest! It was nothing, Toji."
"Don't make me tickle you again, kiddo." You freeze and look at his face. His sharp gaze and slight grin speak for themselves about his seriousness.
A sigh is withdraw from your lips. "I was just thinking about how I'd be leaving on Saturday and being halfway done with my senior year of college."
"And?"
"And, uhh," You gulp and avert your eyes to your lap, your fingers swaying with the pool water. "I was also thinking about me... and you?"
There's silence, the lack of response eating you alive. Then you feel Toji's hand grip your shoulder.
"Are you scared I won't be with you after you graduate?"
He hit the nail because you don't answer for a few seconds. Your eyes still avoid him.
But Toji still persists. "Do you not want to be with me?"
Your head turns to face him in haste, taking you aback at how fast you were. "No! I don't want this to end. I'm grateful for how close you and I have become. I want... I want..." You fall silent once more as your head moves back to your lap as if you'd find the words you want to express lying there.
Using his free hand, Toji grabs your chin to look his way again. "What do you want, baby? Use your words fr' me."
The intense gaze of his jade-green eyes captures your attention, practically daring you to look away from him. The warmth of your cheeks spreads around your face, and you gulp before answering.
"I really appreciate all that you've done for me. And I...I really like you, Toji. I want to be with you." His face doesn't change as you ramble on, causing you to move your eyes to avoid the awkward stare. "But I wouldn't blame you if you want to stop with where we—"
Your sentence was interrupted by Toji's kiss, and a squeak was suppressed between the two lips. You exhale in bliss as your hands find purchase on his solid chest. He deepens the kiss when his hand is posted at the back of your neck.
You break the kiss to breathe, Toji's gruff chuckles fills the warm air.
"You're too adorable, princess. Do you really think I'd want to let my precious girl away from my sight?" You open your mouth to interject, but Toji lifts your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing each knuckle. "Listen here, darlin'. I didn't offer to take care of your debt on a whim. I adore the fuckin' shit out of you, and I was gonna wait til your graduation to ask if you'd still want this thing to be official."
"But now that I hear you're interested," his big hand holds yours, fingers intertwined as his thumb brushes your forefinger. "Are ya up for it?"
You breathe slowly to ease your heart, beating at an irregular tempo. You grip his hand in return and offer a sheepish smile.
"Yes. I'd like that very much, Toji."
He smirks and kisses your cheek. "Good girl." Toji has his arms placed behind your back and under your legs. Then he stands up while picking up your figure bridal style. He grins hard when you squeal in surprise as your arms sling around his neck.
"Let's shower," he walks out of the pool and into the suite. "And then afterward, I'll show you how much I've been itchin' to make you be my girl for real."
The heat on your face grows tenfold, and Toji barks a laugh when you hide your face. You can only mentally pray for yourself for what's to come.
⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆
That little prayer did absolutely nothing!
Now you're lying on the bed nude and wet from the shower as the water droplets on your body slide down to the satin sheets beneath you. Your hands cover your mouth, trying to suppress the moans and sobs from exiting your lips.
And the cause of this is the man currently nestled between your legs. You can see the raven hair between your inner thighs, but you feel a wet muscle lapping around your vulva. The lewd noises of Toji eating you out fill the room and has you writhing in discomfort, and you try to slowly move your lower region away from his ravaging mouth.
"Aht aht, you're not goin' anywhere, mama." Toji's rough hands grip your waist and pull you back down, his nose brushing your clit as you jerk upwards. He lifts his head to look at you, and the image of your slick smeared all over his mouth and chin almost makes you faint.
"Put those hands down, baby. Let Daddy hear that sweet voice of yours." He uses one hand to play with your pussy, middle and forefinger abuse your inner lips as his thumb grinds down on your sweet bud. Your eyes shoot up for the stars, and you're forced to do what he says, hands gripping the sheets while your cries are out for him to hear.
"Aahhhh!! Haaah, T-Toji!! 'S too much, too—Ooohh!" His tongue returns between your cunt, licking and tasting the sticky fluid coating your pussy. Your eyes are watering, your mind starts to feel dizzy, and your legs can't stay still to save your life. He's been doing this for 15 minutes!!
You clutch his hair and wail out his name in pleasure, earning a moan from Toji as his grip on your thighs gets tighter.
He can tell you're close to finishing, so he helps you. His tongue slides from your wet center to your clitoris, licking and sucking on the extremely sensitive bud, his teeth lightly pressing down on the pearl.
Your release comes instantly, and your walls spasm as you cry in pure euphoria. Your head pushed deep into the pillow below you, letting your body finish reacting to the climax. However, Toji doesn't wait for you when his mouth drinks your essence. His tongue attacked your sore velvety walls, having you gasp for air.
When he's done, he finally withdraws from between your legs and kneels before you, taking in your disheveled figure. Your tear-stricken face and hooded eyes peer up at him as he wipes his face of your excess come, licking the rest from the back of his hand.
Toji snickers hoarsely. "Sorry, sweetheart, you tasted so fuckin' good I couldn't help myself. Besides," you watch his hands trail down to his dick as he places himself on your messy vagina. "Gotta get you prepped up fr' me."
He puts a pillow under your lower back to raise your hips more. Seeing his dick for the first time has you in mental turmoil. Toji notices you looking and sneers, pulling your hips to him so his balls practically kiss your opening, his dick on full display on your lower abdomen. The girth alone has your cunt pulsating in anticipation, and good God, the length of that thing. It's not the first dick you've seen in your life, but it's definitely the biggest challenge you've come across.
I hope those 15 minutes of prep were enough.
You come back to your senses when you feel the tip of his hefty member circling the corners of your folds, and your slick aids him as a lubricant.
"Ready, babygirl?" You exhale a nervous breath and nod for confirmation. "Okay, we're gonna start real slow."
Toji began to push the tip in, your folds being spread open to accommodate the foreign object intruding into your tight hole. You close your eyes and hold your breath, the pain worsening by the second. You take one breath, and Toji pushes further. With another breath, he goes further. Another-
A giant gasp takes over you as the tip of Toji's cock enters you. And Toji takes his time pushing himself further into you, using every fiber of his being not to rut into your tight walls off the jump.
"Haaah, hmmm, oh fuck," That's easier said than done with you gripping onto him like your life depended on it. Once he's pushed his whole cock into you, your words come out as a babbling mess, gripping his arms for support. He looks down at your disarranged self, chuckling at such a wonderful sight. "You look really fuckin' sexy layin' under me, baby."
"God...Toji," Tears stream down your cheeks, wincing at the pain down south. "'S too muuu-ch, too big for—Hnnngh!!" A sudden thrust of the hips has you biting down on your bottom lip.
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"C'mon now, I thought I told you about that. I already let it slide once or twice." Toji places your legs on his shoulders and leans close to you, his body weight adding onto yours as the base of his cock grinds into your sex. "What's my new name, mama?"
"Ah!! I'm sorry, Daddy." The title comes through sobs.
Toji grins from ear to ear, wiping your tears with his calloused fingers. "Good girl," he kisses your forehead as you adjust to his girthy length. "So fuckin' pretty fr' Daddy." He takes your lips with his soft ones before moving his hips in a slow yet rough rhythm.
The mating press has your body submit to him, taking in his cock as it sinks deep into your swollen core. And it only gets worse when his pace gets faster, hitting your sweet spots accurately. At this rate, you're bound to cum earlier than necessary.
Then you feel his tip abruptly touch your cervix, and the wail you let out is picked up by Toji's ears. "Oh? Think I found what I was lookin' for." His hips grind deep in you, his tip abusing your poor cervix to the point you speak in tongues. "Feelin' good, princess?"
"Fuck, Daddyyyy, please, I'm-Ahaaah, Ohhh!" His irrational pace has your brain turning to mush, his cock bullying your insides. The sound of his balls slapping against your squelching folds has you squeezing him harder. "I'm gonna cu-cumm!!"
Toji hisses into your ear, the tone of his voice dominating your senses. "Oooooh, don't grip on me like that, sweetie. Gonna end up — Mmmph! Shit, shit, shit, shit...Gonna give you a baby."
You reach to cup his face through watery eyes glazed in a haze. "Please, Daddy, I want it," You know you're talking nonsense, but why care when you're feeling this fucking good. "Inside, I want it, inside!"
"Heh, be careful with what you wish for, mama." He kisses you again as his hips become erratic, and he moves a hand to your clit and pinches it, whining into your mouth when you're cunt clutches onto him one final time.
You cum around his cock and push your head back on the pillows, your gushy walls spasming around his length, prompting Toji to cum inside you after a few more thrusts. You two moan into each other's mouths, riding each other's high until your bodies calm down.
The two of you pant heavily once the kiss is broken apart, and his deep emerald orbs take in your dazed expression. He smiles when he notices drool on the side of your mouth, using a thumb to wipe it off for you.
"My sweet darlin'," Toji kisses your cheek and sighs deeply into your embrace. "You're too good fr' me, baby."
⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆
"Did I say that I want your babies?"
You're resting with Toji, your head relaxed on his chest as you sit between his legs. The television in the bedroom plays an episode of a sitcom, anything for you two to look at and enjoy a moment of peace together.
He snickers at your question, his chest rising and falling as you lay on him feels nice. "Yeah, you kinda did."
"Wow, that sex must've screwed something up in my head."
"Yeah, my dick had you wanting to risk it all." He snorts when you playfully hit his arm. "Don't worry, we can find some plan b in the morning."
Turning to face Toji, still watching TV, you furrow your brows. "We? What about work?"
"I have tomorrow off. It's your last day, and I don't feel like going back to work, or else I'll be sour all fuckin day. Much rather spend it with you than with some morons."
You look at Toji for a little longer before you smile and kiss his cheek, catching the older man off guard as you nestle into his warm body. "Thank you, Toji. For everything."
The thanks carry a deeper meaning. Not a single ounce of doubt clouds your mind now that you've gotten the closure you wanted. Thinking about how your life brought you to this moment, you're happy with your decision to pursue this relationship and more. And it's thanks to this man for making it possible.
Toji still stares at you before he scoffs and kisses your temple.
"No problem, kiddo."
4K notes · View notes
fluentmoviequoter · 25 days ago
Text
Brighter, Sweeter Days
Requested Here!
Pairing: Tim Bradford x shy!fem!baker!reader
Summary: Tim comes to your bakery daily, and you try to brighten his day to get him to notice you. When he finally shows you he has noticed you, there's a lot you have to tell him.
Warnings: minor injuries, fluff!!!
Word Count: 2.4k+ words
Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Rules
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A wave of hot air greets you as you open the oven. Pulling the cookie sheet from the left side and a muffin pan from the right, you smell the intermingled brown sugar, maple, and orange. After the hot pans have been safely placed on one of your bakery’s tables, you close the oven and remove your heatproof gloves.
“I really hope you have more maple biscotti because there’s a really cute firefighter and I can’t slip him my number if we can’t fulfill his order,” your employee, Melanie, rambles as she enters the heart of the bakery.
“Just pulled some out of the oven,” you answer. “It’ll be about ten minutes before we can box them, though. Offer to throw in a dozen free cookies or a coffee traveler.”
“Yes, chef!” she calls over her shoulder.
“And stop watching The Bear before work every day,” you murmur as you check the consistency of a new whipped buttercream.
Several years ago, you opened your bakery in Mid-Wilshire, Los Angeles, and remain shocked at how well it has done. There have been celebrities who travel hours just to try your creations based on the good word of a few locals, you’ve had to close at lunch more than once because you ran out of food, and yet you’ve only been in the front of the bakery a dozen times since opening.
You’re shy, passionate about baking, and less of a people person than most business owners, so you spend your days in the back as your dedicated employees create a friendly and welcoming environment for your customers to come in, enjoy the atmosphere, and try a delicious baked good or slow-roasted coffee.
After the morning rush, during which you make three cakes, drizzle white chocolate on your newest biscotti, and decorate sugar cookies, Melanie returns to the back of the bakery. She sighs and leans on a table.
“How’d it go?” you ask.
“Good. Seemed busier than usual, lots of law enforcement,” she explains, peeking into a mixing bowl.
“Those are scraps from cake pops,” you tell her. “Help yourself.”
“You’re an angel,” she sighs. “A walking, shy so not much into talking, angel.”
You roll your eyes and begin folding chocolate swirls into croissant dough. “And the firefighter?”
“He thought they’d love some coffee but refused to accept it without paying. So, I slipped an angel food cake and my number into his bag.”
You nod and continue working on the croissants, but when Melanie continues to watch you, you know there’s more she isn’t saying. Turning, you set aside the spatula and raise your brows.
“My psych professor moved our exam up and I can’t come in tomorrow,” she explains quickly. “I know it’s your busiest day and I’m so so sorry. I can ask around and see if Cass or somebody can cover me.”
You wave your hand and assure, “It’s okay. I’ll cover you. Good luck on your exam, okay? If you want to leave early today to study or get some rest, do that, too.”
“Now I feel worse for leaving you.”
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Tim turns his alarm off and sighs. It’s his birthday, and he’s alone. Lucy insisted on bringing cupcakes, and Angela offered to take him to lunch. Tim appreciates their kindness, but it’s not quite the same as having someone to truly celebrate with, besides Kojo, who he wouldn’t trade for the world, of course.
As Tim gets ready, he asks himself what he’d want if he was in a relationship. What would they do that would make today so different? Breakfast in bed is one of the first ideas that pops into his head. So, Tim searches for bakeries that aren’t far out of his way. One five-star option appears on the list, and Tim reads the directions as he walks to his truck.
As Tim walks in, he notices how nice the bakery is. There’s a line, but it moves quickly. He scans the menu on the large chalkboard over the counter as he waits, but he knows what he wants when his eyes drop to the display case.
An employee places another plate in the case, a birthday cake-flavored mini souffle that makes Tim smile. When he reaches the register, he forgets about the cookie that caught his attention.
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You take another order and glance at the line. There are two times when you’re so busy it’s hard to remember to breathe, and you’re currently between those. Though you don’t love working here with customers, you do enjoy seeing the smiles on people’s faces when they find their new favorite.
Someone in the line catches your eye. He’s wearing an LAPD shirt, and you assume he’s a higher-ranking officer. He smiles as Mitch places a birthday cake souffle in the display case, and you wonder if it’s his birthday.
“Good morning,” you greet when he reaches the register. “What can I get you today?”
He hesitates for a moment, then asks for one of your jumbo cookies and two dozen chocolate chip cookies. Glancing at the menu, he also adds coffee to his order. You press the buttons for the two dozen cookies and the coffee, but make a note to include the jumbo cookie for free.
“Mitch,” you call when he passes again. “Take over for a minute?”
“Sure thing,” he tells you.
“I’ll grab that for you now,” you tell the attractive cop, whose name you now know is Tim.
“Thanks,” he replies before stepping to the side with his coffee.
You use clean plastic tongs to place thirty chocolate chip cookies in a branded box, then pull a jumbo cookie from the warmer. It’s already boxed, so you take a marker out of a nearby drawer and write Happy Birthday with a little candle drawn beside it. If it’s not his birthday, he’ll think it was the wrong box, but either way, you hope it’ll brighten his day. With the cookies placed in a bag, you hand it over the counter and thank Tim for coming in. You hope you’ll see him again. With your tendency to work in the back and the high number of one-time customers you get, you try not to get your hopes up.
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The drive to the station is spent in silence. The radio is off as Tim enjoys what he considers the best cup of coffee. His mind continues to return to you, the cute girl at the bakery, who he could tell was a little shy. Your service was great, but you didn’t quite meet anyone’s eyes or engage in small talk.
After parking in the station lot, Tim pulls his jumbo cookie from the bag. The birthday wishes make him smile, and he shakes his head as he wonders how you knew. Granted, it could have been the wrong box or something, but Tim prefers the idea that you did it special for him. The receipt is on the bottom of the box, and he pulls it away only to see that you gave him the cookie for free. Maybe it will be a good birthday, after all, he thinks.
Tim enjoys half of his cookie, then returns it to the box to save for later. Tim will most certainly be returning to the bakery because your smile and the taste of the coffee and the cookies together are pretty close to perfection.
Tim sets the cookies on a central table in the bullpen and opens the box. He can immediately tell that there are more than 24 cookies, and he shakes his head at your kindness.
“Happy birthday!” Lucy calls as she runs to his side.
“Thanks,” Tim replies, in a better mood than the last decade of birthdays combined.
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“You’re back!” you cheer when Tim returns the following morning. Melanie called to tell you her exam went well, but she had to wait for the essay portion to be graded, and you invited her to rest at home one more day while she waited. So, you’re at the front again.
“I am. Thank you for the birthday note yesterday,” Tim replies, smiling. He has a gorgeous smile, you think. “How did you know?”
“I noticed you smile when the birthday cake souffle came out,” you explain softly, shrugging rather than providing more explanation.
“I really appreciate it. My coworkers loved the cookies, too.”
“I’m glad. You want to try something else today?”
Tim smiles, and you unconsciously move your fingers to the side of the register where you can include discounts and freebies.
“What do you recommend?” he inquires.
“Our maple pumpkin biscotti cupcakes are pretty well-loved. I like the chocolate swirl croissant,” you answer. “It’s new, but..”
“Then I’ll take thirty-six of those cupcakes and two of the croissants. On one condition.”
“Yes?” you ask, furrowing your brows.
“Let me pay for it this time.”
You nod once and type in the order. As Tim steps to the side, you begin helping the next customer and whisper to Mitch to give the officer a small coffee with the excuse of preparing it too soon for a pickup order.
“I’m paying for it,” Tim insists after it’s left on the counter.
You ignore him, smiling as you take another order, and Mitch gives him the bag of cupcakes.
“See you,” Tim calls as he leaves.
“Have a good day!” you call after him.
When you return to the kitchen around 10 a.m., you sigh and set out to make something you think Tim will love.
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Over the next two weeks, Tim comes in daily. He gets something for the officers at this station or just a treat for himself, and on one busy morning, he says hello and orders a coffee. You look forward to seeing him each morning, finding an excuse to be at the front during his usual time. He is the kindest customer you have ever had, and you want to ask him out. Each morning, you give yourself a pep talk and get encouragement from Melanie or Mitch, then get shy and fail to tell him how you feel. So, you find a way to brighten his day and remind him you’re there and you see him. You slip him a freebie, give him a free coffee, charge him for a smaller size than what you give him, or ask him to test a new item and get back to you. If it’s not on the menu, I can’t charge you was your excuse for the last one.
As far as you can tell, he has noticed you. He comes in and immediately finds you or keeps his eyes on the kitchen door until you exit. Yet, he hasn’t said any more than you have. Eventually, one of you will say something… or so you hope.
You’ve slowly opened up but can’t speak more than a few sentences before you remember who you’re talking to and get shy again. Tim asks about you, how you’re doing, what your favorite menu item is, what you’ve baked recently, and you gladly listen when he tells you about himself in return. It seems like you're getting to know him, but you still want so much more.
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One morning, nearly three weeks after meeting Tim, you glance at the clock again. He’s late. Or he isn’t coming. As you leave the counter and return to the kitchen, you make red velvet cupcakes for a large order and try not to think about Tim. You didn’t say anything for three weeks, there is no reason to assume that he had any real reason to come back.
Melanie enters the kitchen, and you look up hopefully, but she shakes her head.
“I’m sure he was just running late or had to go in early. He’ll be back tomorrow,” she says softly.
You shake your head and begin portioning the cake batter into muffin tins. Getting your mind off Tim will be hard; he’s consumed every one of your thoughts for nearly a month, but you have a business to focus on and more customers than the handsome sergeant who was your favorite daily customer until today.
 Several hours later, Mitch is on the phone when the chime over the door rings. You wave to him and walk out of the kitchen, then stop behind the register.
“Sorry I’m late,” Tim says.
You remain silent as you look at him. He’s wearing a bulletproof vest beneath his shirt, there’s a scrape over his eyebrow that looks recent, and the knuckles on his left hand are darkening. Based on his appearance alone, you assume he was late for a good reason.
“What can I get you?” you ask, breathless, as you move to stand behind the register. “It’s on the house.”
Tim smiles, and you have to remind yourself to listen. He orders your favorite, then places his hands on the counter and leans closer to you. You nod, then blink and ask him to repeat himself.
“Your favorite,” he says.
“How do you…”
“You told me. I remembered.”
You lick your lips before whispering, “Why?”
“The same reason I know that you hate working at the register because you’re shy and it drains your energy. You’d rather be in the back with your recipes and music than up here with customers. The reason I know you own this place but don’t advertise it because you don’t want the attention. All of that, all of you, is why I keep coming back. And I’m really hoping that those things will be why you say yes when I ask if you’ll go out with me.”
You swallow but can’t form words yet. Your answer is yes, of course, it is. When you open your mouth, though, you ask, “Are you okay?”
Tim smiles again and says, “I worked all night and could really use some of your amazing coffee.”
“You missed breakfast?”
Tim extends his arms so his hands are closer to yours and corrects, “I missed you.”
“Yes,” you whisper. “I really want to go out with you.”
Tim nods, then thanks Melanie when she sets a coffee cup on the counter beside him. He sees your number on the side and smiles, but you drop your head momentarily to avoid the embarrassment Melanie provides.
“I promise we’ll do something you’ll like,” Tim assures as his fingers brush yours.
I’ll find the courage to do anything with you, you want to say. Deciding that is more of a second date statement, you merely nod and ask Tim, “Do you actually want my favorite or is there something else you’d prefer?”
242 notes · View notes
blkkizzat · 1 year ago
Text
ꨄ︎『YakuzaBoss!Toji』ꨄ︎
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YakuzaBoss!Toji x Black Reader
18+ Minors - DNI
CW: public sex, voyerism, cockwarming Song Inspo: Don't Tell - BIA
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YakuzaBoss!Toji, who first spots you while you are Go-go dancing at one of the nightclubs he extorts by Sōkaiya frequents in Shinjuku. He didn’t recognize you. You were the new girl, a foreigner. Yet he couldn’t take his eyes off of your curvaceous body. The strobe lights seductively illuminated your dark skin as you rhythmically swayed to the beat on a high platform centered in the middle of the dance floor. You immediately caught his attention and of course you noticed him. How could you miss the exceptionally built, tall and handsome man seated in the prime spot of the VIP section? He had been shamelessly eye-fucking you since he arrived. You winked and blew a kiss at him before then proceeding to ignore him. Not even looking his way for a few more songs in favor of the men who gathered below you as they were the ones throwing you tips. But you could sense that his eyes never left you the entire time.
YakuzaBoss!Toji, who if anything is more intrigued by the attitude you are giving him despite recognizing his crime associations when your manager nervously forces you to dance on his table instead of letting you take your smoke break. He had requested you personally and whatever YakuzaBoss!Toji wanted at this club, YakuzaBoss!Toji received. Your frown however, quickly turns 180° into a sweet flirtatious smile when you see what must be over two dozen ¥10,000 notes he pulls out of his suit jacket. His iced out Audemars shimmers against the club lights as he throws them at your feet on the table. The exchange program at your University was not cheap and this nigga was clearly loaded, so you pulled out a few tricks. 
YakuzaBoss!Toji, who whistles at the sight of you. Your short pink pleated skirt lifted as you bent over to twerk for him. This gave him an up close look at your pussy print nearly bursting out of your tiny neon pink thong. The strip of neon fabric that struggled to cover your plump lips glowed in contrast against your dark skin in the strobe lit club. Your hand snakes up your legs to cover your pussy again as you lift back up and turn to smile at him as if to tease some modesty. You wink and blow him another kiss from your red cherry glossed lips. However, the eye contact makes you shiver as he looks like he would devour you raw right on the table.
YakuzaBoss!Toji, who tells you to sit and have a drink with him after a few songs, patting the spot next to him. You weren’t supposed to drink on shift nor sit with customers but you had a feeling your boss wouldn’t object. He seemed terrified of this man. The man seated beside you introduces himself as Toji and you tell him your name, Y/N. You impress him with how well you can throw back whisky shots and how good at conversational Japanese you are. Toji listens intently as you tell him about your school, exchange program, friends and how you started working here only this week to help cover tuition costs. Toji's gaze never stops lazily roaming your body and he rests a hand on your upper thigh. From the way the scar on his mouth twitches up into a smirk you can tell how much he enjoys making you squirm underneath his touch when he decides to give your soft thigh a firm squeeze. 
YakuzaBoss!Toji, who you have to remind even though you take tips, you are not a stripper and this is not that kind of club when he requests a lap dance. Yet again you quickly change your tune when he offers you a whopping ¥750,000. With a devilish smirk, he motions down to the black leather bag on the ground by his feet nearly overflowing with ¥10,000 notes. You couldn’t lie, you were a bit nervous. You were just a Go-go dancer, you had never given a lap dance before. But this man was offering you at least half your tuition for the next semester! You also couldn’t deny how dangerously attractive he was. Especially when Toji had his expensive black suit shirt unbuttoned halfway, giving you a glimpse at his massive pectorals in addition to the tattoos that started from his neck and traveled down further past his chest. At least he wasn’t some old decrepit ass geezer, right?
YakuzaBoss!Toji, who doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself and his tattooed sleaved arms wrap around your body as you grind on him. Your hips swivel in figure 8s on his lap while you rock against him, your back to his chest. From the size of the bulge pressing into the crack of your ass you could tell he was huge and he wasn’t even fully hard yet. You bit your lip as his breath tickled your ear with crude praises and salacious suggestions of what he wanted to do to you. Your face grew warmer.
YakuzaBoss!Toji, whose large hands laced with gold rings now dig into your doughy hips. He squeezes them toyingly and kneads into them which elicits a soft moan from you. You felt his warm lips at the back of your neck and your stomach did a flip. This lap dance was supposed to seduce him. To wring this sexy rich pervert gangster for every yen he would give you. Nevertheless, his tight hold on your body combined with his scent of bergamot and cedarwood mixing with cigarettes, liquor and sweat made you dizzy. The alcohol in your system begins to hit you as well and only enhances the assault on your senses. You couldn’t help but react as you mewled against him.
YakuzaBoss!Toji, whose grin widens. You were slowly unraveling in his lap. Toji's ministrations on your body from there grew bolder as his hands greedily traversed your body. Rough hands settled to cup your tits over your matching neon pink bikini top as two fingers slipped into the sides of the thin material. Amused to find your nipples pierced, he harshly pinched your already hardened buds. You yelped as he rolled them between his fingers and tugged at the metal rings.
YakuzaBoss!Toji, who lets out a roar of laughter when his assault on your nipples has you jumping out of his lap and turning around to tell him off. Before you can really cuss him out though your face completely drops as you notice the sizable wet spot you left on the crotch of his pants. Following your gaze Toji grabs your wrist before you can run away from him in embarrassment. He tells you with a smug tone he won't pay you shit if you leave him now. You nod and swallow hard as his other hand rubs his now fully hard cock straining against the spot you soiled. He lets his fingers linger on the stain before he brings it up to his face for a whiff and comments on how sweet your cunt smells leaking on his dick. The mood shifts though as he asks you with a dangerous edge to his voice exactly how you plan on repaying him for allowing your slutty pussy ruin his brand new Armani suit?
YakuzaBoss!Toji, who you end up cockwarming in the middle of the dark but crowded VIP section. Your tiny pink neon thong soaked with your juices was pushed to the side as his wide girth split you completely open. Fuck, its too much! Your mind was racing too fast to process how exactly you got here but all you could think about was the sting from the intensity of the stretch. You weren’t fully prepared to take on his size despite how wet you were. “Come on mama,” Toji teased as his hands went under your skirt to spread your cheeks so you could sink lower onto him. “I know you can take dick better than this.” 
YakuzaBoss!Toji, whose cock smooshed up against your core as gravity forced your cervix down further smashing his fat tip. It was becoming difficult to take steady breaths. You crossed your legs together as you tried to tilt forward away from him to lift up and relieve some pressure. His fingers traced the slight bulge that protruded on your stomach as he pulled you back to an upright position and fully seated on his cock. He gave you explicit instructions to be perfectly still and not move an inch. You couldn’t help but pant, tongue peaking out of your glossed lips as your body started to crave a taste of friction despite the very public place you were in, it was torture. 
YakuzaBoss!Toji, whose turn it is to now completely ignore you (he made sure you knew this was payback for earlier) as you whined and cooed for him to reconsider. You would be good for him. He only responds by asking you to remind him of how many songs you ignored him for and doubles the amount before he will even consider letting you move an inch. It was your punishment and Toji made sure to relish in giving it to you as he took calls, barked orders at his men on standby and even brought others to his table to conduct business. He made another waitress come over and prattle off a long list of drink specials while he flirted with her and ordered you another shot of whisky. His thick cock buried in your pussy all the while. You were annoyed at his ignoring you and his flirting but just thankful that from this position no one could see him inside of you. 
YakuzaBoss!Toji, who as if sensing your fears, manspread with you still full of him. Your legs fell to the outside of his thighs and dangled as your feet no longer touched the ground. The sudden movement had you gasping as his cock shifted inside your stretched walls. You fell back fully against his chest as you heaved. The low set table did nothing to help cover you. Your short skirt that barely reached the bottom of your ass standing and had your cheeks peeking out when you sat, gathered around your upper thighs with you spread on him. It was dark in the club but it wouldn’t take more than a lingering second look from someone passing by to see your cock stuffed cunt on display. The fabric bunched on your thighs only hid the top view partially. If the people he was interacting with knew what was going on, they gave no sign. In fact they barely acknowledged your presence at all which either meant they were familiar with him pulling these kinds of stunts or they knew better than to concern themselves with anything beyond what he asked of them.
YakuzaBoss!Toji, who chuckled when you reminded him the 8th song had just ended and you only ignored him for 4. “This messy cunt can wait for one more song can’t she?” Toji wanted to make sure as many of those sniveling losers that you ignored him for now saw what you looked like impaled on his dick. You nearly screamed when his heavy ringed hand came down with a firm smack to your clit. He hushed you with two fingers shoving them deep in your mouth that you couldn’t help but gag and slobber on them. Your eyes rolled back into your head as he would give your cunt a firm tap at random intervals. It made your pussy contract around him and you felt Tojis grunts fan across your neck. “Shhh mamas... You wouldn’t want to make it even harder for the people around here to ignore how well I’m stretching this pretty pussy, now would you princess?”
YakuzaBoss!Toji, who merely snapped his fingers and as if materializing out of nowhere, your manager came rushing over, nearly stumbling on himself. 
“Y-Yes Mr. Fushiguro, what can I get for you sir?”
“This girl… Y/N.”
Toji gave your pussy another pat and it had you shaking as you turned your gaze away from your manager who you couldn't bare to look at directly.
“She no longer works at this club. Understood?” He told your manager authoritatively.
Although your manager didn’t want to lose his best new girl he wouldn’t dare question a directive from YakuzaBoss!Toji.
“Y-Yes, sir! U-understood, Mr Fushiguro sir. I will remove Y/N from the schedule immediately”, your manager replied with a bow before getting himself the fuck out of dodge as Toji waved him off.
“T-Toji- whafhefck” you mumble despite his fingers in your mouth still.
You couldn’t afford to lose this job.
“Hm, you wanna work here?” Toji questioned you running his free hand across your ribs. The calloused fingers contrasted with the gentleness of his touch yet still managed to give you butterflies.
“Or.. would you rather work for me Y/N?” 
There's an edge to Toji’s voice as his free hand lifts you a bit before he slams you back down onto his cock hard with a thrust of his hips.
“To-jisjhi!!!!” 
Your cries were still drowned out by his fingers as drool began dripping out down the sides of your mouth and down his forearm. Tears finally broke free and you trembled as your heels scraped the outsides of his legs. Your poor stretched walls burned at the sudden movement, making you near feral for more as a white ring of your juices and precum formed at the base of his cock and trickled down his balls, staining his pants even further.
“I assure you the pay and the benefits are better.” he continues to roll his hips while your eyes roll back into your head.
“Whaddya say, Y/N?”
Toji’s fingers slide out of your mouth to give you an opportunity to speak but you’ve gone all but non verbal now. You can only babble incoherently as your tongue fully lulls out of your mouth.  
“Dunno mamas, doesn’t sound like you are too interested...”  Toji teased with a huge shit-eating grin looking down at you.
You turn your head up to pout at him and your hips roll in tandem with his in a slow wine. Reaching behind you to bring his head down onto a nasty sloppy kiss. You were so horny you could combust and no longer cared who saw you, you just wanted to be fucked. It’s not like anyone here would stop YakuzaBoss!Toji from doing what he wanted with you.
Toji broke the kiss, slurping up the saliva that lingered between your lips and his.
“I should take that as a yes then?”
Cock drunk and stupefied you eagerly nod your head.
YakuzaBoss!Toji, who shifted as his arms slipped underneath your legs and brought them up behind your head into a full nelson position. There would be no hiding your cunt now as you felt multiple eyes in the room dart towards and away from you again. 
You whimpered in protest yet Toji felt your cunt gush around him at the thrill of it.
“Don’t be like that mamas. I can tell from the way you are creaming on me this slutty pussy loves an audience.”
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© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.
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A/N: I know I said next was Geto and cockwarming but this idea popped into my head and I HAD to write it. This is also inspired by this nightclub I went to in Shinjuku during my own study aboard to see my friend from school DJ where I met 2 gangsters (they were in red sweat suits so I don't think Yakuza). They had matching tats from the neck down and were fine af. Unfortunately that was towards the beginning of my trip and unlike Y/N here my conversational Japanese then was ass (and they didn't speak a lick of English) so nothing came from that. I fumbled the bag badly yo. BUT I CAN WRITE THIS AND LIVE OUT MY FANTASIES WITH TOJI LOL.
New to this writing shit so please reblog to spread if you can but likes and comments are also appreciated all the same!
Edit 9/20: minor errors fixed!
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saphiccarma · 29 days ago
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Can I request Agatha Harkness x reader first kiss? I just need fluff after the show
- Kiss me again
Relationships - Agatha Harkness x Reader
Summary - You were nothing but a simple mortal girl, one who spent most of her time working in a tavern. Agatha Harkness was a woman who made continual visists.
Warnings: Touchy men
A/N: I hope I did this request justice and thank you so much for sending it!
You were a mortal girl, one who worked at a tavern against the will of your father and served those of men who worked in the fields all day and stared at you while you swirled behind the bar. You were used to the prying eyes of men, men who were far too nosy for their own good. What you were not used to, was the scrutinizing eyes of women - after all, they hardly entered the tavern, men overrunning it with their stench and loud belches.
But then, one day, a woman walked in. One with a blue cloak that drifted past her ankles and a hood pulled up, just barely leaving two brilliant blue eyes visible. She took a seat, slouching over the counter, and despite her messy posture she seemed perfectly in control. Cautiously, although you weren't sure why, you approached her. She gave off an air of dominance, one that radiated power. She regarded you with a look you couldn't place.
"What can I get you?" you asked softly, polishing a glass.
It took a moment for her to respond, and when she did, her voice was hoarse, "Whatever's cheapest."
You clenched your jaw at her dry, and rather unhelpful response, but still just grabbed a beer from the shelves, popping the top off and dropping it in front of her. She took it with a wide swing of her arm, throwing her head back and chugging it down. Averting your eyes away from her throat as she took big gulps, you made your loops around the circular table. It was routine, making loops and checking in on everyone so you get some extra coins.
As you were passing by a group of rowdy young men, covered in dirt and eyes glazed over with pride, you felt a hand on your ass. You squeaked, jerking away, and glaring at the man who did it. It was one of the boys, messy brown hair, and a confident smile that told you he had never worked for something in his life.
"Hands to yourself," you chided, albeit a bit used to it, but there was no real bite in your voice. You had experienced it before and it was nothing new, but that didn't mean you had to like it.
When you went to make you were serving a new customer, you felt the hand squeeze your ass again, and you flinched away. Shooting a sharp, reprimanding, look at him, you sighed and continued on. It happened a couple more times that night, and despite asking for him to stop, his buddies egged him on, encouraging the behavior. He reached out once more, his hand reaching for your ass, when slender fingers locked onto his wrist.
The woman, her cloak flowing down her shoulders, pinned his wrist to the counter.
"She asked you to stop." Her voice was silky smooth, one that drifted easily into your ears, yet held so much power. Trying to pull his hand away, the boy attempted to pull his hand away, scoffing slightly at the woman.
"Hey," you interjected softly, "Let him go, it's alright."
She eyed you briefly before her gaze locked onto the boy's, "It is not okay," she said firmly, the words a clear message, "And he's going to stop."
From your point of view, you didn't the woman's fingers digging into his skin, creating little crescent marks. You didn't notice the searing purple wisps that flicked beneath the counter, no one did. No one, aside from the boy and it wasn't like he would tell, noticed the dark purple glaze in her eyes. With a confident smirk, she swiveled around to face you, her eyes sparkling with pride.
"Thank you..?" you trailed off softly, letting her fill in the blank with her name.
"Call me Agatha sweetheart."
^_____________^
It wasn't the first time you saw Agatha. Throughout the years you saw her more and more, visiting occasionally, but never staying. She would come, get upset when men put their hands on you, and then give you a flirting remark before leaving.
As time went on, you saw her change, her personality going through so many stages. Some days she was violent, her words harsher, some days she was quiet, her words a mere whisper, and some days, your favorite days, she was soft. There was still her usual Agatha flare of confidence and seeming little care for other people, but she was sweeter, kinder. You loved it when she was like that when she visited.
It made little sparks shoot off in your stomach, a warm heat pooling there as you stared into her blue eyes, oh so mesmerized by them.
Her visits were unpredictable at best, so you never knew when you would see her, but when you did it made your day better. But she only ever visited you at the tavern, which made perfect sense, but sometimes you wished that you could know her outside of it.
You twirled a flower in your hand, the delicate stem fraying at your touch, and the yellow leaves swirling in the slight wind. Sitting underneath a tree, a book delicately placed on your lap with its pages held open by a twig, you admired nature. It was all so beautiful, with the butterflies that floated by every few minutes, and the birds that sung high in the sky. While a part of you loved the tavern, its dark walls and constant noise that blocked out your thoughts, you loved being outside. Soft footsteps crunched a twig behind you, and you whirled around, utterly shocked to see a familiar face standing there.
"Agatha," the words were a breathless whisper. You fixed your blouse, tidying it up subconsciously, and flattened out your hair of any bumps.
Agatha offered her signature smile, one filled with confidence, "Hey sweetheart." And there she was again with the pet names, the ones that never failed to make your heart melt inside of you and make your blood run hot. "Mind if I join you?" Despite her question, she didn't wait for answer, taking a seat next to you.
For a brief moment, a moment of peace, the two of you sat in silence. You not so subtly admired her and her perfect features. The way her skin was perfectly smooth, her soft looking lips, brown hair that fell in wonderful waves down her shoulders, and her blue eyes. Blue eyes that held so much emotion, so much expression.
"What are you doing here?"
"Oh you know," Agatha shrugged, her tone teasing as she placed a hand above her breast, "Just visiting my favorite girl."
That sent  a fiery hot blush through your cheeks as you looked down, fiddling with the corner of your book. Silence blanketed the moment again, but this time it was more awkward, the air crackling with a tension of unsaid words. You felt Agatha shift closer, her hand finding your own that rested on the ground, and you hardly noticed how close she was until you felt her breath of your ear.
"What are you reading?" Her proximity sent a pleasant shiver down your spine.
You shrugged a bit, not bothering to read the title, "A story about love."
"Love?" Agatha hummed, pulling away a bit, "What about love?"
You risked a small glance at her to see her lips pulled into a soft, teasing, smile and her eyes sparkling in amusement. Huffing, you closed the book, placing it down next to you. Your free hands took to fidgeting in your lap.
"You're teasing me," you whined.
Agatha leaned closer again, her lips oh so close to yours, "Oh, am I?" Your breath caught in your throat.
"Agatha," you breathed, resisting the urge to pull her closer. Your eyes rested on her lips, the ones that were so soft looking and were so close to your own. The other woman chuckled when she caught sight of your gaze.
"See something you like?"
You barely had time to respond before her lips were on yours, soft and gentle. At least that's how it started out. When you made no attempt to pull away, because how could you when it felt so amazing, the kiss deepened, Agatha pressing further into you. You leaned back, allowing her to take control. She kissed you like she was teaching a lesson, but on what you weren't sure. The two of pulled apart all too soon, and a small, embarrassing, whine echoed from the back of your throat.
Agatha laughed, her finger tapped your lips, "Patience."
You pouted at her, lower lip jutting out, "I've had patience. I've wanted to do that forever." The fire in your stomach gently flared, it’s flames fueled by your emotions.
"Me too," she whispered, "Me too."
"Kiss me again," you pleaded, your eyes begging to feel her lips on yours once more.
And her lips met yours again in a tender touch, one that was slow before it slowly delved into passion, a fiery passion that would burn throughout the centuries.
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