#I only know it's been that long because I have a picture on my phone
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
The Birdritch's Nest part 25
masterpost
“That is a lot of plants,” Jason said. He swept his eyes over the space as he slipped his lock picks back into their little pouch.
“He has a botanist friend, apparently, and she keeps giving him plants,” Dick explained as he squeezed past Jason and into the apartment.
“Why are you here again?”
“Because I have a car which is better to carry all of Danny’s stuff in than your bike,” Dick explained. He went over to the wall of plants in front of the windowed corner and squinted down at something on his phone.
Jason pulled out his own phone to glance at what Tim had sent. “You say ‘all Danny’s stuff’ like the list was long. The guy hasn’t exactly been demanding.”
“The ‘guy’ expects to actually go home in a few days,” Dick pointed out.
“And is an adult and so can, you know, actually go home,” Jason retorted.
“Damian’s attached.”
“…I concede to your point,” Jason said once that thought sunk in. “Double the clothing asked for?”
“Basically. Make sure that he has a weeks worth, Alfred can always do laundry,” Dick said before letting out a little noise of triumph and doing something over by the plants. “There, watering system turned on.”
“Congratulations, you’re a genius,” Jason drawled. “Now go get his medication gathered up and snoop a little while you’re at it.”
“I thought we weren’t supposed to be snooping,” Dick, words a teasing sing-song as he passed by.
Jason flicked him off. “Like you wouldn’t anyways. I just want to know what you find.”
“Only if you tell me what you find in the bedroom.”
“Deal.”
The bedroom was almost startlingly normal after the plant filled living main room. It didn’t look like Danny really spent much time in it beyond sleeping. The bed was absentmindedly fixed, a black down comforter over pale blue sheets. There was a paperback on the nightstand next to a lamp and a pocket sized notebook with a pen clipped onto the bent and battered cover.
It was the first thing that Jason picked up.
The notebook was obviously where Danny made notes when he was already settled in bed. As Jason flipped through the pages there was everything from to-do lists to invention ideas to… a lot of thought about wings. Jason turned the notebook in his hands. That page wasn’t in English. The language felt like it was on the tip of Jason’s tongue but he just couldn’t get it out.
Maybe some sort of dialect?
Jason couldn’t actually read it, but there was enough to piece together from similarities that tugged on his memory. Enough to understand it was about the wings. Something about the process of change? Aging?
“Hey Jay?” Dick interrupted, scattering Jason’s thoughts. “Can you read the label on these bottles? There’s some serious printing issues happening, I can’t even tell what language it’s in.”
The pill bottle felt oddly cold in Jason’s hand when he took it from Dick, but maybe the bathroom just had shit heating in this place. It would be just like Gotham builders to mess that up.
“Oh, that’s the same thing Danny is writing in here,” Jason said passing the notebook to Dick. “It’s something about wings and getting old, I think, but I can’t really read it.”
“Read it? I don’t even know what it is. Gives me a headache just to look at it,” Dick grumbled as he flipped through the notebook. “The whole bird thing has really been on his mind, hasn’t it?”
Jason gave a little huff. “Do you blame him? The guy has wings now. It would be on my mind too.”
“Yeah… guess I really can’t,” Dick said and snapped a picture of the page with the unknown writing to send to the group chat. “Any idea what it is?”
“Nope. It’s like it’s a distant dialect or that it uses some of the same alphabet of something I learned some of once. Like how Chinese and Japanese use some of the same characters, you know?” Jason explained as he opened the side table drawer and then quickly closed it again. That was more than he needed to know about Danny. “Maybe something from when I was catatonic in the league, who knows. There were a lot of languages in that place.”
“Cass or Damian might now it then,” Dick said as he eyed the drawer Jason had now moved away from.
“Don’t, trust me,” Jason said. “Did you get the medications you needed to grab?”
“Yeah, they’re in the bag. Just a standard bathroom, really. Though he keeps his toothbrush in this old mug with a hero I don’t recognize on it, someone called Phantom.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell, but it sure sounds like a hero name. Add it to the list,” Jason said as he started on gathering up the requested clothing and extra enough to last a week. “Check the closet to see if there are any shits in there that work around wings.”
Jason rolled his eyes as Dick threw the closet doors open dramatically and focused on his task. Jeans, sweatpants, underwear, what he guessed was pajamas were all added to the bag.
“So, nothing that looks like it was made for wings,” Dick said and tossed some normal shirts and a few sweaters into the bag. Jason sighed and folded them neatly. “Maybe he hasn’t had time to find any yet? It hasn’t been that long since the bird thing and seems it all started there. Or maybe he’s just always home when he’s had then?”
“Better let Alfred know then. He’ll want to get something as soon as possible.”
“Yeah, good point,” Dick agreed.
While Dick stepped out of the bedroom to call Alfred, Jason took the time to double check the list. It really was pretty basic. Jason didn’t know if Danny was just trying to not be demanding or if the guy didn’t need much, but Jason went ahead and put the bedside paperback and notebook in the bad too. Jason slung the duffel bag Dick had brought over his shoulder (he totally could have ridden his bike like this) and took a little bit of time to snoop through Danny’s bookcase while Dick finished the call. Sci-fi, horror, old text books, and a ton of notebooks filled the shelf with knickknacks and a few figures. Jason at least had to give Danny points for having some of the sci-fi classics, even if the range of works was pretty limited.
“Okay, Alfred is on it,” Dick said. “Anything else we need to do?”
“Nah, I think we’re good,” Jason said. Something made him not want to look through the notebooks, like they had already done enough snooping. It was an odd feeling. “Let’s get going, I’m hungry for whatever dinner is.”
“You’re always hungry,” Dick said.
Jason shrugged rather than dealing with how true that statement was. “I’m a growing boy.”
“You’re a trash pit.”
“Yeah, you want to go there, cereal boy?”
“Leave my cereal out of it!”
---
AN: I do love writing Dick & Jason so much. Can you tell I have an older brother? Also sorry for the mistakes I'm sure are abounding. Guess who turns out to be anemic? This critter! Maybe getting that fixed will help...
689 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐝—𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘣𝘪𝘯 𝘹 (𝘧𝘦𝘮) 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
A Stray Kids one shot
Synopsis: You and Changbin have a deal that everytime the both of you want to get off some steam, you know who to call. The rules were simple. No strings attached. Only fucking. And damn, that was perfect...
Warnings: Mention of academic validation. Smut🔞 Friends with benefits (to lovers at the end), unprotected, rough sex, Bin's cock too big, size kink(?), praising, dirty talk, pet names (doll, baby, princess), name calling (slut. But only once), oral (f. receiving), fingering, overtsim(?), squirting, creampie, cum play(?).
Minors do not interact!!!
Note: Academic validation is my best friend but also my worst enemy. With the stress I'm going through because of college, I felt like writing this. I'd like a rough fuck as a distraction ngl.
And this is probably the filthiest one shots I've written so far— LMFAO.
If this isn't your thing, you're more than welcome to skip it. Reblogs, likes, comments and feedbacks are always appreciated.
ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪʟʟɪᴏɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴘᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴡʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ.
Word count: 3.5k
𝑬𝑵𝑱𝑶𝒀!
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
You stared at your test paper as if it had personally insulted you, which it kinda did, the big red circle with a "C-" looking right back at you cruelly.
You had put weeks, as in WEEKS of hard work for this test only for you to get a grade that felt like a slap in the face.
The dull ache behind your eyes only intensified as you crumpled the test paper in your fist, a confirmation that no matter how much effort you put in, it never seemed to be enough.
Dragging your bag over your shoulder, you walked briskly out of the lecture hall, dodging classmates who threw each other pitying or triumphant glances. They didn’t get it. They couldn’t.
You had been running yourself ragged with late-night study sessions, caffeine-fueled breakdowns, and an endless loop of second-guessing. All of it for this.
Once you were back at your apartment, you tossed your bag onto the couch and stared at the ceiling. The air felt heavy, suffocating almost.
You needed release, a distraction—something, anything, to snap you out of the vortex of self-doubt threatening to pull you under.
As if he could hear your thoughts, the need for a distraction, your phone buzzed with a notification.
Bin: Wanna fuck?
You playfully scoffed at the screen. His message straightforward as always. You both had been friends for a very long time and you made a deal one night after being dared to kiss during a party, that if in need of blowing off some steam, you knew who to call.
The kiss had your knees weak that you initiated this idea to Changbin—as a joke—but he agreed to it without a second thought. And since that day, whenever either of you needed a quick distraction or are super horny, you were there for eachother.
What an awesome agreement right?
Me: Sure. my place or yours? Bin: Mine. Be here in 30? Me: See you soon.
~
Thirty minutes later, You arrived at his place wearing a hoodie and leggings, the picture of casual. You rang the bell and the moment Changbin opened the door, the tension in the air was palpable.
His eyes scanned you briefly, his lips curving into that familiar smirk that sent a shiver down your spine.
Changbin opened the door wider to let you in, he was wearing a tank top and grey sweatpants. Closing the door, he sunk back into his large plush sofa, exhaling sharply.
"Bad day?" You asked curiously.
"Yeah. Accidentally deleted a file that contained a comeback track. Chan's not pissed but I'm disappointed." He said, cracking his knuckles.
You frowned, stepping inside and kicking off your sneakers. “Damn, Bin, that sucks. Did you try recovering it?”
He shook his head, running a hand through his dark hair. “I did, but it’s gone for good."
You made your way over to him, plopping down beside him. "I'm sorry," you said softly, placing your hand on his shoulder.
"You're tense." He murmured looking at you, his voice low, soothing, recognizing the slight difference from your usual voice.
Your throat tightened as you wanted to shrug it off, to bury yourself in the comfort of this arrangement without delving into the emotions clawing at your chest. But Changbin wasn’t letting you hide tonight.
“Talk to me,” he urged, his fingers falling ever so slightly on your waist.
“It’s just…” Your voice cracked, and you looked away, shame flooding your chest. “I’m so tired, Bin. I worked so hard, and I still couldn't get a good grade. It never feels like enough. It’s like no matter what I do, I can’t catch a break.”
His expression softened, his brow furrowing as he cupped your face gently, forcing you to look at him. “Hey,” he said softly, “A red ink on paper doesn't define who you are. Don't be so hard on yourself.”
You blinked up at him, stunned by the sincerity in his voice. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You were here for distraction, for release, not to be seen so deeply. But Changbin had a way of disarming you without even trying.
You nodded wordlessly, and something in his gaze shifted. The heat was still there, smouldering just beneath the surface, but it was wrapped in a tenderness that made your chest ache.
“We both had a bad day today I guess,” you said, attempting to brush away the tingling sensation.
“True that,” Bin scoffed, turning away from you for a second.
“Wanna get that frustration out?” you asked, your tone shifting to something more suggestive.
Changbin’s smirk returned, this time sharper, darker. “You offering, princess?”
You leaned closer, your fingers trailing higher up his thigh. “Always.”
In a flash, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you into his lap. You gasped, straddling him as his hands gripped your hips firmly, his touch possessive. His dark eyes bore into yours, his frustration melting into something far more primal.
“You’re too good to me,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. “Let me return the favour.”
Before you could respond, his lips crashed into yours, the kiss rough and hungry. His hands slid under your hoodie, pulling it up and over your head in one swift motion.
“Fuck,” he muttered, his eyes raking over your exposed skin. “You’re gorgeous.”
You barely had time to feel flustered before he claimed your lips again, his hands roaming your body, leaving trails of fire as he unclasped your bra, revealing your breasts to the cool air.
“Stand up,” he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. Normally you'd fight back, but today you obeyed, feeling your own arousal taking over so fast.
You really needed this distraction.
You stood before him as he tugged your leggings and underwear down in one motion, leaving you completely bare.
Changbin leaned back, his eyes darkening as he took you in. Already fucking you in his head as his gaze never left your pretty pussy.
"What a sight," he said, his voice rough like distant thunder. “Now, come here.”
You climbed back into his lap, your bare skin against his clothed body sending shivers through you. Before he even let you breathe, his mouth closed around your tipping nipple and sucked it, your head fell back gripping on his shoulders.
He played with your breasts, sucking and kneading them with his big hands, making your needy core grind against his clothed bulge. He released the bud with a pop, and pulled you down, crushing his mouth on yours again, slower this time.
“Feel that?” he growled against your lips. “That’s what you do to me.”
You whimpered, rolling your hips against him, the friction making you ache for more. “Bin, please…”
He chuckled darkly, his hands moving to cup your ass, guiding your movements. “What do you need, princess? Tell me.”
“Fuck me.” You gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair.
Changbin swifted you instantly, pressing your back against the sofa as he removed his tank top and slid off his pants. Your eyes trailed every detail of his muscular body, strong biceps and soft torso, the hint of dark hair going further down towards his…
Holy shit.
His huge cock jutted up, hard, leaking pre cum. And THICK. So thick, that it was impossible to take him without prep.
Changbin smirked at the look on your face as your gaze stayed glued to his shaft. His confidence was palpable, a devilish grin playing on his lips as he leaned down over you, caging you beneath his frame, making you swallow hard with anticipation.
His hands slid between your thighs, spreading you open, and a soft gasp escaped your lips when his fingers pressed against your slick heat. He chuckled darkly.
“Already so wet for me.”
“Changbin,” you whispered, your voice trembling.
He positioned above you, aligning himself at your entrance. The blunt head of his cock nudged against your folds, and your body tensed. You bucked your hips upwards but Changbin wasn't gonna let you have him that fast.
He knew your body, how it strained to take his girth. And damn he's going to have dessert first. A sweet treat for the bad day right?
Instead of pushing himself inside your aching, needy pussy, he trailed downwards, making a path of hot, wet, open mouth kisses down your body, sucking on your breasts and leaving purplish red marks behind.
Your fingers went through his hair guiding him to give you more. When he reached your core, glistening and clenching around nothing, his warm breath fanned over your velvet folds, making you shiver.
"Relax for me, doll." Bin murmured, his voice low and soothing.
He placed a kitten kiss on your clit—gosh, always so respectful—his tongue swiped through your folds, slow and deliberate, as he pushed two fingers.
Your walls clenched him instantly, the sensation was overwhelming, making you arch your back. The heat of his mouth and the stretch of his fingers combining to ignite every nerve in your body.
“Fuck, Bin,” you gasped, your hips jerking involuntarily as his tongue circled your clit with precision.
He hummed against you, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure straight through you. “That’s it,” he said, pulling back briefly to look up at you. His dark eyes were molten, his lips glistening with your slick juices.
“Let me hear you, baby. Don’t hold back.”
Your head fell back as his mouth latched onto you again, his fingers curling inside to hit that spot that made you cry out. His free hand slid up your body, gripping your waist firmly, keeping you anchored as you writhed beneath him. He was basically making out with your sloppy cunt.
So sweet and dripping so much just for him, Changbin's forehead beaded with sweat as he focused on your needy pearl, sucking and swirling and finger fucking you till you were whimpering.
Your hands found their way into his hair, tugging them as the pressure built inside you. “Changbin, I can’t—”
“Yes, you can,” he cut you off, his voice commanding. His tongue ruthlessly circled and sucked on your clit that made you squirm and tear erratic moans out of your throat.
The coil in your stomach tightened further as his fingers sped up, his mouth relentless against your pulsing bud. The pleasure crested like a tidal wave, and when it crashed over you, it left you trembling and gasping his name.
Bin didn’t stop right away. His movements slowed to guide you through the aftershocks until your body went limp beneath him. He let you calm down after the high of your first orgasm, your pussy so wet, tight and perfect, he couldn't wait till it wrapped around him.
When his fingers left you, you whimpered at the loss, but the sight of him stroking his cock with your slick arousal, made your breath catch.
Bin smirked mischievously, his chin and lips glistening with your essence, your eyes glassy with need, both your minds fogged and consumed with lust.
“Think you’re ready for me now?” he asked, his voice rough with desire as he leaned over you, his face inches from yours. He slapped the angry tip of his cock against your nub, sending jolts of pleasure through you.
You squirmed and nodded beneath him, biting your lip as the anticipation built.
"Will you let me stretch this tight pussy, doll?" he murmured, his tone dark and teasing, his lips brushing against your ear.
Your cheeks burned, but the desperation in your voice betrayed your need. "Please, Bin… I need you.”
“Yeah?” he taunted, his cock sliding through your slick folds, coating himself in your arousal. “You want me to fill you up? This little cunt can take all of me right?”
You whimpered, your hips bucking up to meet him. “I can. Please.”
He groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. “Such a greedy little thing,” he growled, positioning himself at your entrance. “Want me to wreck you till you can’t think straight, right doll?”
“Yes,” you breathed, your voice trembling. “I need it, Bin. I need you.”
“That’s my girl,” he said, a wicked smile curling on his lips.
Your legs wrapped around his waist as he began to push in. The stretch was intense, his thick velvet shaft sinking into you inch by inch, forcing your walls to adjust to his size.
“Fuck,” he hissed through clenched teeth, his head falling forward as he buried himself deeper. “You’re so fucking tight, baby. Squeezing me like you were made for me.”
Your hands gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you moaned. “You’re so big,” you whimpered, your voice trembling with both pleasure and the overwhelming sensation of fullness.
“Damn right I am,” he rasped, pausing to let you adjust before pulling out slightly and pressing back in, each movement slow and deliberate. “And I’m gonna make you feel every inch of me.”
His hips began to pick up a rhythm, the pace rough but controlled, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. “Look at you,” he groaned, his eyes locking on yours. “Such a good girl for me.”
“Yes,” you gasped, your back arching off the sofa.
He began to move a bit, you moaned softly, rolling your hips to test the way he felt inside you. The movement made him curse under his breath, his control slipping as his grip on you tightened.
“Patience, baby,” he growled, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in with deliberate force. The sudden fullness made you cry out, your nails digging into his biceps.
“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” he said, his thrusts picking up pace. The way his length appeared and disappeared back inside you, the way you writhed beneath him, it made Bin feel like he was in heaven. Literally in heaven.
When the stretchy discomfort was replaced with intense pleasure, he began pounding into you in a bruising force that did feel like he was going to wreck you apart into two.
Your mouth fell open, breasts bouncing with each hard thrust, Bin struggling to keep his balance on the sofa as he hammered into you, making you climb higher and higher in the throes of pleasure.
“You deserve an A-plus for taking my cock so well, doll,” he growled, his voice thick with lust as he leaned over you. His lips brushed against your ear, his hot breath making you shiver beneath him.
You moaned LOUDLY, your walls fluttering around him as you tried to adjust to the punishing rhythm he set. “Bin… you’re too much,” you choked out, your nails scraping down his back in desperation.
He chuckled darkly, slowing his thrusts just enough to pull almost all the way out, teasing you with the head of his cock before plunging back in with a force that made your breath hitch. “You can take it,” he said, his tone low and possessive.
“You’ve done it before and you’ll do it again.” He rasped harshly.
He leaned back slightly and pressed your legs against your chest, sinking deeper into you.
Your moan broke into a cry as he thrust deeper, his words a mix of praise and sinful promises. “Look at you,” he growled, his gaze locking on yours. “Letting me stretch this perfect little pussy like it’s mine.”
You couldn't form any words. The way he kept hitting all the spots, the way he kept calling you his, made you see stars.
The knot in your stomach was close to snapping and you needed release, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, groans and whimpers echoing off the walls of his living room.
“Bin, I’m gonna—”
“Do it,” he urged, his pace unrelenting.
His words were your undoing, and the orgasm tore through you like a storm. You writhed, body shaking uncontrollably, the thread snapping and you were unable to register the depth of your ecstasy as he pulled out, making you squirt, long and hard, shooting clear streams around him.
You made a huge mess between you two, back arching and squealing moans that drove Changbin out of his goddamn mind.
“Holy fuck," Changbin groaned, his hips stuttering as he felt the wetness that spasmed out of you coat his thighs and the sofa beneath you. His eyes darkened as he looked down at the mess you made.
“Didn’t know you could be this filthy,” his thumb brushing over your sensitive, swollen clit, making you jolt.
“Squirting all over me like a good little slut.”
The mixture of praise and degradation sent you reeling, your head falling back against the cushions as he rubbed your clit and pushed back in, picking up his pace, his cock sliding in and out of you with wet, obscene sounds.
His own release wasn't so far as he followed after you, the way your walls continued to clench around him, sent him spiralling. With a guttural moan, he buried himself deep inside you, his seed spilling into you in hot, thick spurts.
His dick throbbed uncontrollably and slowly pulled out, his cum pouring out of your hole and you squirted again. You were FILLED.
His chest heaved as he admired the sight before him, his substances sliding out of your cunt like golden nectar slipping from a comb.
“Fuck,” he muttered, running a hand through his damp hair. “Look at you, baby. Completely ruined.”
Your legs trembled as you tried to catch your breath, your body still buzzing (literally) from the aftershocks. His hands found your thighs, spreading you wider, exposing just how thoroughly he had claimed you.
He smirked, holding the base of his length, swiping the tip through the thick white mess painting your swollen pussy, pressing it back inside. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, your body arching into his touch.
“Don’t think you’re done yet, princess,” he murmured, his tone low and teasing. “I’m not letting any of this go to waste. Gotta make sure you keep every drop of me inside.”
“Too much,” you whimpered, but your body betrayed, hips rolling against him as he worked himself into you, pushing deeper. Sticky strings attaching from you to him as he fucked his cum back inside you.
“Too much?” he echoed with a dark chuckle. “You will take it, won't you?”
“Yeah, yeah…” You nodded gasping then your head lolled back, another moan escaping your lips when he leaned down, his mouth brushing against the swell of your breast, hand circling your puffy, cum filled pussy and your body trembling with overstimulation.
His voice softened, a hint of tenderness breaking through his rough words.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous like this, baby. Beautifully wrecked, and,” he nipped your sensitive skin, “Professor Bin grades you an A-plus.”
A breathless laugh escaped your lips at his teasing, he knew how much you love getting the perfect grade, though it quickly turned into a soft gasp as Changbin pressed another kiss on your skin.
His warm breath fanned over you, sending shivers up your spine despite the heat radiating between your sweaty bodies.
The weight of his gaze made your chest tighten, the intimacy in his eyes almost overwhelming. For a moment, the rough edges of your deal blurred, replaced by something raw and more vulnerable.
He reached closer, his thumb brushing over your cheek, wiping the streaks of tears that had rolled down your face.
"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" he asked, his voice low and earnest. The contrast to his earlier teasing tone made clenched your heart.
You nodded, swallowing hard as you placed your hand over his. "I'm okay. Just...a little overwhelmed. And stretched maybe," you admitted chuckling.
“I didn’t mean to push too hard, I'm sorry,” he murmured, brushing away a strand of hair from your face and leaning down brushing his lips against your temple. “I just got caught up in you. You’re…everything.”
His words sent a new kind of warmth through you, one that made you feel loved rather than overwhelmed. You smiled up at him, your hand slipping from his to cup his cheek. “I wanted it, Bin. All of it. I promise.”
Changbin leaned forward, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss that seemed to melt the tension from your body. "I’ve always got you, baby," he murmured against your mouth.
The words hung in the air, their meaning lingering even as he pulled back, going into the bathroom to be back with a warm cloth.
He gently wiped you, opposite from the man who wrecked you into oblivion a few moments before, his hands moving to guide your legs around his waist. He shifted, settling beside you on the sofa, pulling you into his arms as if he couldn’t bear to let you go.
The two of you lay there in silence for a while, the rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek grounding you. His fingers traced lazy patterns along your spine, soothing in a way that felt achingly intimate.
"Bin," you whispered after a long pause, tilting your head to look up at him.
"Yeah?" His voice was soft, his eyes searching yours.
"What...what are we doing?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly as you voiced the question that had been gnawing at the back of your mind.
For a moment, he didn't answer, his gaze dropping to where his fingers rested against your skin. Then he let out a quiet sigh, his hand coming up to cup your face. "I don't know," he admitted, his thumb brushing over your cheek.
“But I think we both know that this is more than just…casual.”
Your breath hitched, the sincerity in his voice making your chest ache. "I think so too." you said slowly.
Changbin's lips curved into a small smile. "Then let’s figure it out," he said, his forehead resting against yours. "No more rules. It's just you and me now. Okay?”
Slight tears pricked your eyes, but this time they were tears of relief, of something that felt dangerously close to happiness.
"Okay," you murmured, a bright smile blooming on your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck, savouring his warmth, who hugged you back cherishing you in his embrace.
Rules are meant to be broken. And some lines are meant to be crossed.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
Enjoyed this one shot? Consider checking my masterlist for more. Requests? Check 𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 (& 𝚁𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜)
Thank you for reading!
xx,Ivyy
#stray kids fanfic#stray kids#stray kids smut#k pop smut#changbin skz#changbin#changbin smut#seo changbin smut#seo changbin x reader#seo changbin#changbin x reader#changbin stray kids#fanfic writing#mature writing#kpop oneshots#changbin oneshot#smut writing#skz smut#changbin x female reader#changbin x you#skz one shot#stray kids oneshot#Ivyyscollection
221 notes
·
View notes
Text
pink digital camera | JJK
SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST | PLAYLIST
wc: 2.6k
notes: jk and y/n's friends meet, hyeonjae and areum crushing on each other <3, nsfw: they fuck in a parking lot, jk records y/n, jk cums in y/n (STAY SAFE PLEASE)
“Fuck I’m so hungry,”
“I’d assume so-we’ve been trying to get you out of your studio for the past 2 hours,” Hyeonjae responds to Tag with a chuckle. The two, in front of Jungkook and Jungwon, on their way to Jungkook’s car. It had been a good while since the four friends have been able to have a proper meal together so they took advantage. It took a long time to convince Tag to leave his studio but eventually they succeeded.
Finally reaching the car, the four friends get in with Jungkook as the driver of course.
“Yo JK what’s this?” Hyeonjae, who was sat in the passenger seat, asks holding a pink digital camera. Your pink digital camera. Fuck.
You must have forgotten it in his car from when you both went on a picnic late in the evening to watch the sunset near the Han River. You had commented to Jungkook how you had seen a TikTok of a girl and her boyfriend who bought a camera just to capture their dates and thought it was a cute idea. So after a quick trip to the store, and a couple thousand won later, you had started filming your dates.
Jungkook is taken away from his thoughts when he hears a jingle next to him signaling that the camera had been turned on. Hyeonjae, who was intrigued and looking at the camera’s quality, was completely oblivious to the panic set on Jungkook’s face.
“Is it yours?” Tag asks from the backseat and Jungkook is quick to grab the camera from Hyeonjae’s grasp, placing it gently on his side of the car in the pocket of the door.
Maybe he should have said something because now the three were laughing at his reaction.
“You seeing somebody, Kook?” Jungwon asks patting his shoulder and Jungkook can only clear his throat and shrug his hand away.
“I think our Kook is in love,” Hyeonjae playfully adds and Jungkook replies, “You guys are just hungry,” and turns on the car.
“Sure, that’s the reason Hyeonjae found a pink camera in your car and you got all nervous,” he laughs and leans back in his seat. Jungkook rolls his eyes and looks down at the camera that’s slightly visible. Feeling a little better now that the guys were focused on their phones.
Had Hyeonjae pressed the little camera button on the side he would have been met with pictures of you and Jungkook. It’s not something ideal right now.
“I could probably have finished my song by now,” Tag says, commenting on how long it was taking for their food to arrive.
“Hyung we barely placed our order. It hasn’t even been five minutes,” Jungwon replies laughing at the older’s grumpy state knowing he’ll cheer up once he has some good food in his system.
“Still,” Tag mutters and the rest chuckle.
“Hyeonjae?” A voice from behind Jungkook calls out, grabbing the attention of all the guys.
“Areum!” Hyeonjae is too quick to stand up and slightly bow at Areum in which she does the same. Meanwhile, Jungkook is once again panicked.
Areum was part of your friend group and here she was talking to Hyeonjae for some reason. He had no reason to worry really. He had never talked to her or any of your friends but there had been a couple close calls.
He remembers when you and Areum had to attend a study group with two guys from your guys’ class and how annoyed Jungkook had gotten because he wanted to take you out that night. He had made his way to the library that night and managed to get you to meet him in an area of the library where no one really went.
Let’s simply say you had a steamy meet up and almost got caught. Had it not been for Areum calling your name from afar, Jungkook wouldn’t have gotten the chance to walk a good distance from you while you fixed your skirt and hair.
“Uh Areum these are my friends Jungkook, Jungwon, and Taegyun but we call him Tag,” Hyeonjae, Jungkook had taken notice, was slightly fidgeting as he introduced them. Huh…
The guys all waved and she did the same, “Hi, I’m Areum,” she places a piece of her hair behind her ear, “You guys are welcome to join me and my friends. We just arrived-unless you guys are on your way out,” she says and all three guys look at Hyeonjae for his response.
Wait. Her and her friends? Does that mean you too? Jungkook knew you would be staying in a class later than usual today with a couple classmates but that’s pretty much all he was aware of.
Should he check your location to see if you’re here? Jungkook doesn’t get a chance to when Hyeonjae replies, “No, we just ordered a while ago. We wouldn’t want to bother,”
“No it’s fine! The more people, the merrier,” she says and Hyeonjae can’t say no. Jungkook sees Tag and Jungwon wanting to tease him for getting so visibly nervous.
“Okay,” Hyeonjae follows Areum to the other side of the restaurant and the guys take that as an invite as well. The three get up and follow. Jungkook, at the very back, a bit concerned. How should he act with you in front of his friends? Ignore you? No, he can’t do that very well but he knows he can’t kiss and hug you either.
The guys take notice that the area in which you guys are eating had suddenly become fancier? The chandeliers were different, the area was quieter, and the people around looked like they’ve never seen anything less than a billion won.
He hears it. That sound. One of his favorite sounds in the world. Your laugh. Your laugh that he loves so much. Your laugh that lets him know that everything is okay.
Jungkook visibly relaxes as you come into view. You’re wearing the same outfit from this morning only now you’re wearing a hoodie. You had decided to wear Jungkook’s sweater that he had left in your room a couple nights ago. Noticing that the day was cloudy you decided to be warm and wear his sweater that was too big but comfortable.
“Guys, this is Hyeonjae, Tag, Jungwon, and…uhm I’m sorry what was your name again?” Areum says looking directly at Jungkook. From the corner of his eye he sees you smile, “Jungkook,”
“Right! Jungkook! Oh and these are my friends Eunwoo, Jimin, and Y/N,”
“Will you guys be joining us?”
Hyeonjae says a simple yes and Eunwoo nods, “I’ll go request a bigger table,” he stands up and walks to an employee.
“I should go inform them we switched tables,” Jungwon says and goes up to the same server Eunwoo was speaking to.
The server is quick in telling the group to follow her and lead them to a much bigger table, enough to fit 10 guests.
Your friends on one side and Jungkook’s on the other. This…was weird.
“So how do you two know each other?” you ask pointing to your friend and Hyeonjae. Jungkook feels comfort in your voice.
“We’re partners in digital art class,” Hyeonjae says.
“Yeah Hyeonjae is really funny. Sometimes we get in trouble,” Areum says and you smile but miss the slight pink pigment in her cheeks.
Eunwoo and Jimin conversate with Jungwon and Tag leaving you and Jungkook sat in front of each other, slightly confused of how you two should act right now.
Jungkook decides to take his phone out.
Me: that’s the fourth hoodie you’ve stolen from me pretty
Your phone dings and you smile.
Y/N🎀💓: Stolen? You left this on my bedroom floor 🙄❤️
Me: it’s not my fault i’m always distracted when i go over
Y/N🎀💓: So it’s mine?
Me: when a pretty girl starts kissing my neck and talking about how bad she wants me i just can’t resist 😞
“Jungkook,” Tag nudges his shoulder and he looks up, putting his phone away and aware that the food is being served and his plate was in the server’s hand.
“Oh yeah that’s mine,” the plate is placed in front of him and the server tells them if they need anything to call her over before leaving them to enjoy their meal.
“Sorry about him, he’s been distracted lately,” Tag apologizes.
“Everything okay?” Eunwoo asks and Jungkook nods.
“Our theory is that he’s love sick,” Jungwon says and everyone at the table is quick to ask who it is like they were life long friends. You sit in your seat with your cheeks feeling warm knowing that he’s being like this because of you.
“Is it somebody we would know?” Jimin says genuinely intrigued.
“It’s nothing really,” no matter how badly Jungkook wants to gloat about you, he decides to hold back.
“He says it’s nothing but I found a pink camera in his car earlier,” Hyeonjae says and you audibly gasp.
Areum turns to you and you quickly make an excuse, “Sorry I thought I saw someone I knew,” and you grab your chopsticks and spoon to eat. Jungkook wants to kiss you so bad. You’re so cute.
“So, Jungkook?” Jimin says and Jungkook lets out a chuckle, “This food looks really good,” he starts to grab his utensils and the group lets out a disappointed sigh. You let out a small laugh and his friends make comments like ‘I bet she’s so out of his league and that’s why he won’t tell us’ that make your friends laugh.
Your group surprisingly got along with his very well. There was a couple jokes here and there but overall a ton of laughs. Jungkook always making sure to watch you every time because he loved it. You’d kick his leg gently under the table and he’d do the same. He was just ready to get out of here. It’s been a long hour of you being near him and not kissing you.
Eunwoo and Hyeonjae ended up splitting the tab afterwards and now you were all stood outside the restaurant.
“That was fun! We should do it again,” Areum says and Hyeonjae is quick to answer, “Yeah sure!” Tag laughs.
“Well I hope you guys have a good rest of your days. I’ll see you guys around campus,” Jimin comments and the rest bid their goodbyes. You making sure to subtly send a kiss to Jungkook in which he pretends to catch it and place it on his cheek.
Your group walks in the opposite direction from his and Jungkook can only smile. He’s defiantly going to kiss you nonstop later tonight.
“So Hyeonjae…when are you going to ask Areum out?” Jungwon teases as the four get in the car.
Tag laughs, “Yeah Hyeonjae. Oh Areum of course I’ll eat with you and my friends because you’re so pretty and I can’t help but blush and-” Tag is smacked by Hyeonjae but it only makes him laugh more.
“You guys are idiots,” he says but you can clearly tell his face was flushed.
“You were blushing like crazy every time she talked to you,” Jungkook says driving out of the parking lot.
“Really?” he didn’t even try to deny it this time. Hyeonjae wondered if Areum took notice.
“Yeah but she was blushing a lot too,” and this eases his nerves.
“Anyways I’ll RSVP to the wedding now to save time,” Jungwon jokes and the three laugh as Hyeonjae sighs staring out the car window.
“Hi baby-”
Jungkook couldn’t help it. He needed to kiss you. Without breaking the kiss, he closes the door behind you two and walks you two to your living room couch.
You’re straddling him as the kiss shows no sign of stopping anytime soon. His tongue slipping into your mouth and you follow suite. The kiss getting messy very quick but you couldn’t care less.
After both of your lips were swollen you pull away, intending to remove his jacket when you feel something in his pocket.
“What’s this-oh,” you take out the item from his pocket. It was your camera.
“I brought it so you could transfer the pictures and videos to your computer and send them to me,” Jungkook says trying to even out his breath. His gaze still on your wet pink lips. His fingers touch your lips innocently before they move to your jaw. He lets his arm fall to your waist to hold you on his lap securely.
“Sure we can do that,” you say and put the camera aside before leaning into him for a warm embrace.
“You looked so handsome today,”
“You look so gorgeous all the time,”
You giggle and look at him before pressing a kiss on his nose and going back to your position from before and loving the warmth, “That was weird right? My friends and yours just randomly eating together,”
“I think it was mostly because Areum and Hyeonjae like each other,”
“What?!”
“You didn’t notice?” Jungkook asks. You’re now sat properly on his lap again.
“I was too focused on my boyfriend to notice anybody else,” you says and run your hands through his hair. Jungkook closes his eyes at the nice feeling of your manicured hand just running through his hair.
“Yeah the guys were teasing Hyeonjae the entire car ride,”
“That’s mean. Hyeonjae’s cute,” you say absentmindedly and Jungkook opens an eye.
“Cute?”
“You know what I mean, baby,” you smile and he closes his eye again.
“They’d be cute together,” you note and Jungkook hums in agreement.
“By the way…Hyeonjae said he found the camera…he didn’t happen to look at the last video on it, right?” you ask grabbing the camera and turning it on.
“He turned on the camera but I grabbed it before he could do anything else,” you hum at his response.
“Okay. Good,”
“Why?” ”Did you forget what we last recorded on this?”
“Oh,”
It almost slipped his mind. Last time he filmed something. He couldn’t help it. Your moans were so pretty and his phone was too far. The camera lay on the center console as Jungkook’s dick slid in and out of you with ease. You just sounded so angelic and he wanted to capture it so bad.
“Koo please-” you were close and Jungkook knew it so he said fuck it and grabbed your pink camera you decorated in cute stickers before turning it on and pressing record with flash immediately. It’s not like anyone would see you either. Jungkook made sure to park far from others. He captured your sweet expressions and your angelic begs for him.
“Cum for me baby-fuck. Cum for me darling,” and for the second time that night you felt the warm feeling in your tummy before your release. That was enough for Jungkook to quickly feel the tight feeling and release his warm cum into you.
Your chest heaving up and down trying to regain your breathing as Jungkook, still recording, moved the camera to where his dick was slowly pulling out and his cum spilled down your ass and onto the sweater laid under you.
“Fuck darling,” he pressed the record button again to stop the video, “You’re gonna need to send me that so I could jack off to something when you’re not around,” he joked.
“Koo you have hundreds of pictures and videos of us already,” you say in between breaths.
“Yeah but this one might be my favorite,” he winks.
#jeon jungkook#jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook x reader#jungkook fic#jungkook fluff#jungkook imagine#jungkook x yn#jungkook smut
125 notes
·
View notes
Text
Room 5 - Nicholas Alexander Chavez x fem!reader
summary: (Y/N) escapes to a quaint little hotel by the beach for a few days. On the first night, she realizes that the hot guy in the neighboring room is a... loud guy, and she finds that she can't seem to escape him no matter where she goes.
warnings: 18+, voyeurism (auditory), self-masturbation, fingering, unprotected p in v, cursing
required listening: 24 Hours by Sky Ferreira
word count: 17,415
a/n: sorry this one is so long (compared to my other fics), but I just had too much fun writing this one. I honestly could've gone writing more. If anything, I can just add on, but I think I wrapped a nice, little bow on this one. I hope you guys like it, and I would appreciate any and all feedback!! pls enjoy :)
reblogs and likes are appreciated and lets me know if you'd like to see more!
The boutique hotel looked absolutely adorable, white brick on the outside and only two stories — a tiny café and gift shop downstairs and the rooms up top, just steps away from the ocean. It sat between two tall condo buildings, which mostly housed an older crowd of out-of-state tourists.
I was in search of the perfect place for a weekend getaway, and this place seemed to check all the boxes. It wasn’t near any of the busy beach accesses where all of the rowdy high schoolers seemed to hang out at, and the pictures of the café seemed like it was straight out of an interior designer’s Pinterest board. This place, The Pearl, seemed perfect.
Actually, I had been looking forward to this weekend for a long while, having booked this trip about a month ago. Funnily enough, I lived just 30 minutes away from the beach but never had the time to just get away for a couple of days — until now.
After I checked in, I carried my weekend bag and backpack up the narrow staircase to the second floor, the wood creaking underneath my sandals. When I turned on the mid-level landing, that’s when I heard a second set of footsteps coming down from above. I turned my head up, my eyes falling on the drop-dead gorgeous man carefully shuffling down the steps.
Our shoulders brushed as I squeezed by with my luggage, the warmth of his skin sending a shiver that branched out from where our arms grazed.
“Sorry,” I whispered without missing a beat.
The guy smiled politely as he turned his head back, his big, brown eyes inviting, “You’re good.”
My heart skipped a beat hearing his warm, low voice. The stranger was ridiculously attractive, his muscles bulging out of the wife beater covering his torso, his tousled brown hair elegantly falling over his eyebrows. His smile, though, was what made my skin prickle — a wide, genuine grin that showed off his perfectly white teeth behind his pink lips.
I returned a polite smile, continuing my journey up the stairs before he could notice my blushing cheeks. When I arrived to the top of the landing, I saw that the second floor was T-shaped, the rooms in ascending order the further I walked down the hallway.
I turned the corner, immediately sensing the change in atmosphere compared to the row of rooms I had just passed. This section of the hallway seemed much more secluded, quiet, possibly because, indeed, it was in its own corner of the floor away from all the other rooms.
I passed by the one other door in the hall, reaching my room — 6 — at the end where a singular window accented the softly-lit hallway. Setting my bags down, I fumbled for my phone, scrolling through my text messages with the hotel manager for the code to my door. I appreciated the fact that the rooms had a code to enter instead of a plastic key card that I could lose in the sand.
As I input the code into the lock, the wooden staircases creaked as a set of footsteps became louder and louder making their way toward me. It was the same handsome man I had brushed shoulders with earlier, a backpack slung over his shoulder as he approached the only other door, room 5.
Our eyes met briefly, a flicker of recognition in his. “Good night, neighbor,” he said with a slight nod, that same smile that made my chest warm flashing across his face as he made his way inside his room, the heavy door falling closed behind him.
I let go of the breath I didn’t realize I had been holding. What are the odds the hot guy and I were staying next to each other? 1 in 5 it seems.
Shaking off the butterflies fluttering around my stomach, I finished inputting the code and dragging my bags inside the freezing room, stopping to admire the details of what my hard-earned paycheck had managed to spoil me with. The room was quaint, a neutral island color palette — the large bathroom and queen-sized bed to my right and the 70” flatscreen tv and closet on the shared wall to my left, a built-in marble counter all along the bottom.
The bathroom was my favorite: an art-deco flair with hints of coastal influence. The full shower was astounding in the best way possible — a beautiful mosaic pattern along the whole wall, double shower heads on opposite ends, and with enough space to possibly fit maybe 5 people. I could literally walk about ten steps between the two shower heads.
I walked back out to the room, setting my bags on the counter and starting to unpack, not in any particular rush to venture outside. As I organized my stuff — bikinis, pajamas, toiletries — I turned on the tv, flipping through channels and settling on HBO, Black Swan playing a few minutes in.
Enthralled by the movie and remembering I had a few snacks in my backpack, I changed into my pajamas and dug out a box of Lady Godiva chocolates from my backpack, climbing into bed and stretching out my arms and legs, excited to start my weekend getaway.
At some point, I had drifted off with a chocolate in my hand only to be awoken by a sound. I didn’t know what it was at first, choosing to ignore it and keeping my eyes closed, hoping I’d drift back to sleep. But it persisted, and it wasn’t a sound I had expected to hear — a woman’s moans.
My eyes fluttered open, thinking it might’ve been coming from the tv. After all, Black Swan did have a sex scene. However, I found the tv to be off. Maybe I had forgotten I turned it off myself before drifting off to sleep. Then, a low, drawn-out groan rumbled through, clear as day.
Oh.
Oh.
My cheeks flushed, burning at the realization of what I was hearing. I mean, I know a boutique hotel might not have the same amenities as a more established hotel chain, but you’d think thicker walls would have been a forethought. How could somebody planning to open a hotel not have thicker walls?
Again, I heard the moaning, and there was only one other room in the hallway that they could be coming from — room 5, the hot guy. I sat up in bed, heart pounding as I processed what was happening in the room behind the tv. The sounds were so clear you’d think they were having sex in the hallway.
In fact, I thought just that. There was no way that was happening right? I walked up to my room door and carefully peeked my head out, finding the hallway empty.
I retreated back into my room, my heart racing. Any other person would’ve probably turned the tv back on, or put on some headphones, something to block out the sounds, but what I did, I couldn’t tell anyone else about. I stood frozen, listening. I listened past the rhythmic porn-like moaning of the faceless woman, instead focusing on the low rumble of the hot neighbor guy’s voice.
The closet that shared a wall with his room beckoned my name, tempting me to inch closer. Before I knew it, my bare feet were shuffling toward the closet door, quietly swinging it open. The space was small, just big enough to fit a luggage rack and a few hangers up top, but the rhythmic thumping and guttural groans just behind the plaster called out to me.
Carefully, I leaned over the luggage rack, pressing my cheek against the cold, white wall. Every sound was clearer now — the creak of the bed slowing to a stop, the huffing coming from my neighbor, and the yelps coming from the mysterious lady. I could even make out some words.
“Bend over,” my neighbor spoke, his voice deep and seductive.
My stomach twisted hearing him speak in such a commanding yet intimate manner. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that a stranger so polite in passing could be so primal behind closed doors; though, wasn’t everyone?
“You’re so huge, Nicholas,” the mystery lady spoke back.
I know I shouldn’t have been listening, but I was just so enthralled. Did they know just how thin the walls are, assuming they’d block out most sound like I did? I couldn’t imagine someone knowing the walls were thin and still choosing to have sex, especially knowing there was an occupied room next door.
The plaster was cool under my cheek, refreshingly so as I could feel myself becoming warmer and warmer. The sounds of their erotic encounter seemed to vibrate through the wall, through me. Without noticing, I had squeezed my thighs together, my hand finding its way at the band of my pajama pants. As soon as I felt my fingertip slip under my underwear, I was jolted out of my trance. What was I doing?
Before I could feel any more guilty for lingering longer than I should’ve, I pulled myself away from the wall and scampered back toward the bed, choosing to ignore what was going beyond next door, my heart racing. Grabbing my headphones from my nightstand and slipping them on, I threw myself into the sheets and turned on my white noise playlist. But as much as I forced myself to focus on the therapeutic noise, my imagination wandered, picturing the faces my neighbor — Nicholas — might be making right now as he pleasured the woman accompanying him. Before I knew it, though, I had managed to fall asleep.
In the morning, I made my way down the staircase to the hotel’s tiny café, eager to start my day with a light, sweet breakfast. As I descended down the last few steps, I looked over to the sea of tables, hesitation in my heels as my eyes landed on Nicholas sitting by his lonesome as he enjoyed a cup of steaming coffee in one hand and a beat-up book in the other.
Swallowing the thought of what I did, and listened to, last night, I walked past him and approached the café counter, the smell of warm croissants and muffins enveloping my nostrils, a temporary distraction that I was grateful to experience.
“Hi,” I politely smiled to the employee, “Can I just get an Italian crème croissant with a hot green tea, please?” I quietly asked, not wanting to interrupt the quiet, calm atmosphere for the patrons of the café.
The barista nodded her head, inputting my order into the tablet register, “We’ll send it over to your table,” she smiled.
I slipped her the money for my breakfast, smiling, “Thank you so much,” and making my way through the slew of empty tables.
I settled in at the corner table on the opposite end of the room, wanting to be as far away from Nicholas as possible to avoid any awkward conversations. Though, I may have chosen the worst table for my plan, accidentally giving myself a clear, unobstructed view of Nicholas from across the room.
His hair was damp, not purposefully styled in any particular way but still somehow falling over his eyebrows in such a perfect manner. He wore a loose flannel with a few buttons loose, the shirt billowing open to tease just enough of the gold cross chain draping over the sculpted valley between his chest.
He hadn’t noticed me yet, completely enthralled by what he was reading — Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller. I was stunned by his choice of literature. There was an old fellow a few tables down reading the newspaper to get his local news, meanwhile this guy, Nicholas, was probably on some page where the author is describing, in excruciating honesty, a night he had with a prostitute just as easily as one could describe their morning routine. In a way, I was impressed, curious.
As I waited for my breakfast, fiddling with my fingers, occasionally looking at my phone, my eyes would glance over toward Nicholas, my gaze lingering just a beat too long. The way he achingly turned the page, the tip of his finger playing at the corner of the paper, or the way he’d carefully bring the mug of coffee up to his lips — it was all so titillating.
Thankfully, though, the barista came over with a small pot of piping hot tea and my croissant, interrupting my trance and carefully setting down the items in front of me. Just as she left, my eyes flickered up to Nicholas to find that he had glanced up from his book, a polite smirk at the corner of his lips when his eyes met mine, lifting his mug in a silent, “Cheers.”
Not sure if I should wave or say hi or flash a toothy smile, I settled for a polite closed-mouth smile, lifting my mug back at him before quickly focusing my attention to the food in front of me as my cheeks grew warm. The greeting wasn’t graceful at all, but how could I focus on being graceful knowing I eavesdropped on his privacy just last night? If I was awkward at all, I figured it was my subconscious trying to punish me.
I served myself some tea and picked at my croissant as I looked out the window to the occasional family or couple walking down the street, all carrying their beach items and taking their time to get to the sand. I’d even glance around to the other patrons at the café. Though, I think part of me wanted to see if any of the girls would join Nicholas at his table and reveal herself to be the high-pitched moaner from last night. However, nobody ever did join him. Was he here alone? Or maybe she had taken the morning to be by herself.
Every impulse in me was begging me to take just one more look at Nicholas, to savor his image one last time, but I fought it. Everything except anything in Nicholas’s direction became intriguing to me. The checkered tile on the ground, the promotional poster on the window that I could barely read because of the sunshine striking through it, the older fellow enjoying his newspaper — I didn’t think I’d find myself focusing on the details of such things trying to avoid the gaze of some guy I had talked to for no more than 10 seconds, maybe less.
When I finished up, I quietly tidied the table, collecting all of the dishes and brushing off any crumbs, making my way out of the café and toward my car.
The breeze was refreshing, a nice whisper against my cheeks. I opened the trunk, staring at all of the beach gear I had to carry by myself. It was a struggle, but I managed to carry everything in both my arms — umbrella, picnic, basket, beach chair, headphones, blanket — using every crevice of my upper body to anchor something to me so it wouldn’t fall on the way over.
Thankfully, the beach access was right next to the hotel, and the path to the open sand wasn’t too long. When I got to the end of the path, I was grateful for having woken up early for the opportunity to pick a spot in an otherwise empty beach, a few umbrellas and chairs here and there from the condo occupants. I chose a spot that didn’t have any people too close by for maximum relaxation, carefully setting everything down on the sand.
I stabbed my pink, frilly cabana umbrella into the ground, laying out my beach blanket and beach chair in the shade, sliding everything else onto the corners of the blanket so the breeze wouldn’t pick the fabric up and blow sand toward me.
The water was calling my name, the light green water perfectly sparkling against the morning sun. But before I could strip my clothes off and jump in, I looked around to see if anybody would be looking as I pulled off my clothes. I didn’t see anybody particularly interested in my arrival, so I quickly pulled off my jean shorts and tee to reveal my glittery brown bikini set underneath. Before I became too hyper aware of my body, I walked toward the water, instead letting the feeling wash over me just as the waves of deliciously cold seawater did.
The occasional squawk of seagulls, the sun warming up my skin as it rose higher and higher in the sky and the sound of the waves crashing was all perfect. This moment was all I wanted out of this weekend. No distractions, no work — just me and the ocean. Needless to say, I was very excited to be able to repeat this routine for the next couple of days.
I continued walking into the water until I was chest-deep to let the ocean devour me whole. The feeling that a wave could crash over me entirely was exhilarating. The water slowly picked me up by my feet as I hopped around.
I lingered for a few more minutes in the water, splashing water around or searching for little fish before stepping back out once my fingers started to wrinkle. As I strutted out of the water, though, I saw the familiar shape of somebody relaxing in a chair just a few feet next to my umbrella — Nicholas.
I shouldn’t be surprised. I mean, he was a guest in the hotel, too, after all. Why else would someone book a room in a hotel by the beach if they wouldn’t find themselves relaxing in the sand? But did he have to set up next to me when there was an entire football field of available space?
Meekly and careful not to trip or stumble on the way over, I walked toward my umbrella, fighting the urge to steal a glance at Nicholas, but from the corner of my eye I could see he sat there with his chest exposed. I had to let myself give in; what was the harm in a little peek?
He sat reclined in his chair, his skin deliciously glistening under the killer sun as he took it in. His hair was lightly brushing across his face from the sea breeze, like Mother Nature herself was playing with his hair. Nicholas’s long legs stretched out in front of him, his feet digging slightly into the sand. Both hands rested lazily on the arm of the chair, open. It was like he wanted to take up as much space as he could. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes; I couldn’t tell where he was looking or if he was looking anywhere at all. He radiated a kind of tranquility, as if the ocean had washed away any burdens he carried, something I hoped to experience myself this weekend.
I realized I was staring, my breath caught somewhere between awe and curiosity. I darted my eyes away, afraid I might be caught, which is absolutely the last thing I want.
Growing cold from the breeze brushing my wet skin, I grabbed my towel, drying myself off and squeezing the water out of my hair, mindful of turning myself from Nicholas so as to not flick any water droplets his way or have him think I was trying to grab his attention deliberately. Maybe he just sat there without knowing he had set up next to me. After all, I was in the water this entire time.
As I settled in, I brushed my wet hair over the back of my chair and reached for my picnic basket, pulling out my headphones, sunglasses, and my current read, White Oleander. I didn’t want to distract myself with any energetic music, instead opting to listen to the White Oleander movie soundtrack for the perfect accompaniment to the book.
I read through the chapter I had left off in, but I found myself having to reread some paragraphs, even entire pages, every time I saw Nicholas shift in his seat from the corner of my eye every few seconds. Even the way he jittered his knee up and down was distracting, almost like he wanted to grab my attention. After some minutes, he stood up from his chair, letting out a groan as he slowly stretched his arms and walked toward the water, and I silently thanked the universe for finally letting me have a few minutes to myself.
Though, I couldn’t help but occasionally glance up from my book to observe Nicholas in the water. The sun accentuated his muscles in an almost picturesque way, the stark shadow falling under each crevice of his body perfectly. He cut through the water like a knife as he walked deeper and deeper in the water, splashing water over his chest and shoulders, eventually dipping himself under the water to wet his hair. When he reemerged, the surface broke with a powerful splash, Nicholas throwing his head back and brushing his hair back with his hands.
Shaking myself out of Nicholas’s trance, I buried myself back in my book, trying not to look back up to him and letting myself get lost in the story, and for a while, I did. However, the universe seemed to like playing cruel jokes. About two chapters later, a shadow crossed my face. Curious to know if it was a bird or somebody’s umbrella flying away, I looked up to find Nicholas standing in front of me with a small grin.
“Good book?” He asked, drying his hair with a towel.
Shocked, I almost couldn’t form any words, but I managed to spit out a normal-sounding sentence, “Uh, so far, yeah, but I’m more familiar with the movie.”
“I’ve never seen it,” he confessed, dragging the towel up and down his dripping torso, almost deliberately. “Do you recommend it?”
I was quiet first, trying to clear my head of any thoughts of the night before that kept replaying in my mind. My eyes drifted up from his torso to the smile on his face, his straight white teeth in full show. Thank god I had my sunglasses on
“Totally. The dialogue in that movie is…” I trilled my lips, searching for the right word, “poignant.”
“Sounds raw,” he threw the towel over his shoulder, resting his hands on his hips, his lat muscles flexing outward like wings. “Is it your favorite movie?” He asked as he sat down in his chair, shifting until he found a comfortable position.
“One of,” I replied, turning my head to face him.
“I’ll check it out then,” he smiled, grabbing Tropic of Cancer out from under his chair and spreading it open.
“There’s a movie on that one, too,” I pointed to the book in his hands.
“Really?” He cocked an eyebrow, looking at the cover of the paperback, like he had forgotten what book he was reading. But then, a cheeky grin grew on his lips, “Did you like it?”
I couldn’t help but stifle a chuckle, knowing what Nicholas had meant. “I wouldn’t know; I’ve never seen it,” I smiled, turning my head back to the book in my hands, having almost forgotten about it.
All I heard back from him was a quiet chuckle before he settled back into his chair, the both of us reading their respective books.
After a half hour, I tossed the book and my sunglasses back into the basket and walked out over to the water. I paused at the dry edge of the sand, letting the water nip at my toes, trying not to picture Nicholas behind me. He could have been glancing at me as I made my way over, but he could also be looking at the sky, or the book in his hands, or maybe even his phone. As much as I wanted to peek over my shoulder, I continued forward, letting the sea swallow me.
I lingered, brushing my fingertips over the surface as I planted myself in knee-deep water, clutching the sand underneath my toes as it dissolved under me. As the water hugged my calves, I searched the water for anything I could find — maybe a lost pair of sunglasses, some little fishes, or maybe a conch laying at the bottom of the ocean floor. To no avail, I slowly started to retreat from the water, picking my head up to find Nicholas was looking forward, hiding behind his sunglasses again.
I didn’t let the fact he was looking over to my direction affect my ability to walk properly. After all, he could be looking past me. Maybe under those sunglasses he had his eyes closed. I wouldn’t know. However plausible any of those situations were, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched.
Upon approaching my chair, I wrapped myself in the damp towel, deciding that my time at the beach for today would be over for now. Slowly, I started to pack up my things, but I honestly didn’t know how I was gonna carry everything back now that I was damp and shivering. I tried juggling some of the things in my arms, but occasionally something would slip from my grasp. I really tried not to seem so helpless, but when the umbrella slipped out from under my arms with a loud thump, I knew keeping up that ruse wouldn’t work.
“Need help?” I heard Nicholas’s voice behind me.
I turned around, catching him push his sunglasses to the top of his head to show off his crinkled eyes, smiling. It seemed to be more from amusement at watching me struggle, not smiling from politeness.
I struggled to hold onto everything in my arms, “No,” I shook my head, laughing nervously. “I mean, I managed to bring everything over in the morning.”
An exhale escaped his lips before he tossed the book to the sand and stood up from his chair, making his way over with a satisfied look, “Let me help.”
I bit my lip, debating if I should let him help or to just push him away so I wouldn’t have that constant reminder of hearing him have sex in my head. Before I could answer, though, Nicholas grabbed the beach chair out from under my arm and picked the umbrella up off the floor.
“Thank you,” I mumbled as I adjusted the remaining items in my arms, now much more manageable without having to carry the bigger things.
“No problem,” he spoke in a low tone, that same tone I overheard when he said ‘Bend over’ to the woman in his bed last night.
My breath caught in my throat. Suddenly, I felt inexplicably warm, like the back of my neck was on fire. His expression was soft, casual, like the same man I had run into in the hallway yesterday, not at all like the man I heard in his room in a false sense of privacy.
We walked back toward the hotel, the sand kicking up behind us with every step. I was too afraid to say anything to him at all after remembering the way he spoke to his late night companion.
“So, are you from around here?” He spoke up, his voice cutting the tension that only I seemed to be aware of.
“Kind of,” I replied, hiding my face behind my damp hair, “I live 30 minutes out. I just came here on a solo-trip for a few days to escape. You?” I didn’t expect the question to slip from my lips, but in a way, I guess, I wanted to coax information out of him. Maybe if I knew more about him, that pang of guilt in my stomach would leave on its own.
He stifled a chuckle, “Not at all. I’m from Colorado, actually.”
I raised an eyebrow, surprised at the answer, “Wouldn’t California beaches be closer to you, maybe even look better than this old shore?” I looked back out into the beach, admiring its charm, but even then, I know it wouldn’t compare to a California beach.
“Actually, I live in LA, so I go out there all the time. I guess, I just wanted to visit a different place,” he answered.
I was surprised at his honesty, but I scoffed, not believing that any person from out of town would want to come here willingly, “Well, you picked a different place, indeed. Not much goes on around here, except when it’s spring break.”
Nicholas stifled a warm chuckle, “Yeah, I think I read that online.”
A part of me wanted to prod. Was he single? Who was that girl from last night? Another guest? The only appropriate question that I could think of that didn’t sound too suspicious was, “Are you here on a solo-trip, too?”
He nodded his head, “Yeah, I do a lot of solo travel. There’s a certain freedom in not having to worry about anyone else except yourself.”
I glanced over to him and saw a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he looked over to me. Something fluttered in my chest, or maybe it was just the droplets of water trailing down from my head.
“Sounds liberating,” I managed to spurt out before the long pause became too awkward.
“It is, but sometimes it’s nice to share it with someone else, even for a little bit,” he said, his words hanging in the air.
I didn’t dare reply. I wasn’t sure if he was alluding to our current moment or maybe to the similar encounters of last night he has with women during his trips. Of course, there’s no way he’d know that I knew what he did behind closed doors, but what if he did?
“Yeah,” I absentmindedly agreed to his statement, eager to cut the conversation short.
We arrived at my car. I opened the trunk with my keys that were in my picnic basket, watching as Nicholas bent over to place the umbrella and chair inside, then grabbing everything from my arms and setting them beside each other, closing the trunk.
“My name’s Nicholas,” he held his hand out for me to shake.
That’s when I realized that he had never introduced himself. The only reason I knew his name was because I had my ear pressed against the wall just as his lady friend from last night had moaned it out of her lips.
I hesitated for just a fraction of a second before breaking through that one-sided tension and reaching out to shake his hand, his warm palm sending a shiver up my arm, “(Y/N),” I introduced myself, meeting his gaze for a second or two before looking down at my feet.
“Pretty name,” he smiled.
Blushing, I shyly said, “Thanks,” retreating my hand from his grasp and whipping back a strand of wet hair behind me.
Nicholas lingered a moment longer, the soft curve of his smile inviting me to hold his gaze. “Any chance you’d wanna get a drink later?”
I blinked, my mind scrambling for a response as the question hung between us. This stranger, Nicholas, was never meant to be more than just some nameless blur that happened to also be a guest at the same hotel I was staying. We were only supposed to bump into each other a few times in the hallway, never going into conversation and being fine with that. Now, here he was, asking me if I wanted to have a drink with him.
I kicked my feet nervously, looking down, afraid to look him in the eye as I turned down his offer, “Actually, I have plans.”
His brow lifted slightly, an amused look on his face. “Solo plans?” he asked, clearly poking fun at my earlier words.
I couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, despite my nerves. “Yeah, something like that.”
“Fair enough,” he said, his tone casual but with a glimmer of understanding. “But if you change your mind…” he leaned in the tiniest bit, some tiny droplets from his hair dripping onto my skin, “you know where I’m staying,” a mischievous smirk at the end of his lips.
I felt my stomach jump at his words, catching the double meaning. He lingered a bit too long, like he was testing me, before he pulled back, still smirking.
I nodded, “Yeah, I’ll let you know if I change my mind.”
I watched as he walked past, sauntering back toward the beach. The way his shoulders shifted as he walked, relaxed yet deliberate, made it impossible to look away. The nerve of him, the audacity to be this calm, this magnetic. Maybe it’s because I’m never forward with people I just met, especially if I think they’re attractive, but I couldn’t wrap my head around the swagger Nicholas oozed. It was like he was aware of the effect he had on me.
Desperate to wash away the sand in my crevices, I trotted toward the hotel entrance, going up the stairway and to my room. I felt relief when the cold air of the room hit my face, pulling my hair away from the back of my neck so the air could creep its way and bring some relief to my flustered self. My head buzzed, replaying anything having to do with Nicholas — the way he dried his towel in front of me, his soft chuckles, even the way he walked.
Get it together, (Y/N). He’s just a guy. Just a guy you won’t see ever again after this weekend. Ever.
I sighed, dragging myself to the shower and stripping the wet bikini off my body and letting it fall to the floor without a second thought.
I was grateful the shower was huge, that way I didn’t feel as suffocated with the warm water steaming up the glass. However, each time I closed my eyes to let the water fall on my face, all I could picture was Nicholas’s charming smile, all I could hear in my head was the way he said ‘Bend over’ to the girl in his bed last night, and suddenly, I could feel a tension pool low in my belly.
Fed up, I turned the faucet knob to cold, shuddering and gasping loudly the moment it fell down my spine. It might’ve been drastic, but it did help. All I could focus on was trying not to tremble under the cold stream of water enveloping me instead of focusing on a certain man.
Once I was done with my shower, I wrapped my hair and body in a towel each, padding out into the cold room, my ankles shuddering at the cold floor beneath me. I changed into a casual set of clothes, thinking I’d probably go out for a walk later. As I dried my hair with the towel, I made my way over to the window, looking out toward the beach to see Nicholas still lounging out in the sand. He was splayed out on the chair, legs wide open as he leaned back and looked out into the water.
Tired of my mind drifting to him, I jumped into bed and put on my headphones, opening up Hulu to catch up on shows. Before I knew it, hours had gone by and it had become nightfall.
I walked to my luggage resting on the built-in counter, zipping it open to pull out a bag of chips I had bought before arriving. That’s when I heard a light knock on my door. I froze at the sound, too scared to shuffle over and check who it was.
“(Y/N), you there?” I heard Nicholas’s voice call out. I didn’t answer, standing still, my heart almost pounding out of my chest. “If you are, I’m heading over to the bar across the street, if you wanna join me,” he calmly spoke through the door, his voice cool and collected.
After a bit, I heard his feet shuffle away, becoming fainter and fainter. I still didn’t dare move an inch, paranoid he might’ve pulled a fake-out and is actually still standing outside my door. I sat on the counter, debating his invitation, but I decided against it. I’m not exactly sure why; any other girl would already have been out the door by now. I just had to trust my gut on this.
Later that night, at about 1:30AM, I found myself still awake, quietly scrolling Instagram on my phone. That’s when I heard the loud giggles of a woman outside in the hall, followed by a deep shush, the giggles falling to a quiet mumble as I heard a door open and quickly fall closed. I ignored the sounds, continuing to scroll and catch up on posts I missed during the day.
Some minutes pass by, about 10. That’s when I heard the bed on the other side begin to thump against the wall, a lady slowly starting to moan. The moans sounded different, belonging to another woman. Then, the all-too-familiar grunts coming from Nicholas started to join in.
I couldn’t reach for my headphones to drown out the sounds of sex coming from the other side; my headphones had died just 30 minutes earlier, now charging on the outlet above the counter. Tossing and turning in bed, I burrowed myself under the covers, hoping it would make some barrier, but to no avail.
Irritated, I walked over to the counter, checking to see if my headphones had any juice that I could use even for just a few minutes until I fell asleep. Just as I reached to disconnect them from their charger, that’s when I heard Nicholas’s voice rumble through the wall.
“You’re so hot,” he said, his tone thick with pleasure.
I stood there frozen, my hand still hovering over my headphones. The more I heard Nicholas speak, the more I found myself inching closer toward the closet. My heart was racing, beating faster the moment I opened the closet doors, carefully stepping inside and resting my cheek against the shared wall.
I knew I shouldn’t have been listening in, again, but I couldn’t stop myself. It was this urge that I had to follow through with. I closed my eyes for a moment, listening past the girly moans and searching for Nicholas’s voice. My chest grew tighter, my thoughts beginning to spiral.
“Just like that,” he growled.
Had I said yes to drinks, would that have been me in there? Would I be the one moaning under him instead of the mystery girl inside? My stomach tightened at the thought, frustrated. I’m not sure why I was letting it get to me like that. Maybe because hindsight is always twenty-twenty. But just knowing that it might’ve been me Nicholas said all those things to had I just agreed to drinks… It drove me crazy.
“Say my name.”
My body tensed at his words. Somewhere between spiraling and intrigued by the events happening on the other side, I had closed my eyes, achingly moving my hand to my shorts, slipping it under the waistband. What if I just pretended it was me he was saying all those things to?
I clenched my teeth, feeling a heat bubbling low in my belly as it slowly rose up to my chest. The sound of Nicholas’s voice; he sounded so close yet we were separated by this thin wall. It was maddening. I slipped my fingers under my underwear, grazing them over my damp self. I covered my mouth with my other hand, proactive about not wanting to be heard from the other side just as I heard them.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” Nicholas groaned on the other side.
My breathing became deep, my nostrils pushing out all the air that couldn’t leave my mouth. As my fingers found my throbbing bud, I quietly whimpered out, pretending Nicholas was saying those words to me. I rubbed myself in small circles, bucking my hips into my fingers.
On the opposite side of the wall, Nicholas’s groaning had become guttural, primal. The more the headboard thumped against the shared wall, the more powerful his movements had become. At one point, I thought something might fall off the wall from my side of the room.
As I slipped a finger, then another, inside myself, my breathing became erratic. I imagined Nicholas taking me, right now as I am, hard at the thought that I had been listening in on his sexual escapades. Maybe he’d push me up against the wall, cornering me so that I might not escape him. He seems like the type to want to be in control, and I’d be happy to give it to him.
I pumped my fingers slowly, at first, but then picked up the speed to match the thumping on the wall. The tension in me began to build tighter and tighter. I was so close to collapsing in pleasure, but the moment I heard a loud moan escape the woman’s lips from the other side, I was taken out of my imagination completely, remembering that it wasn’t me he was having sex with.
My eyes ripped open, realizing what I had been doing. I pulled my fingers out and collected myself, shamefully walking out of the closet and reaching for the headphones on the counter. I couldn’t believe that I had been pleasuring myself to the sounds of somebody else having sex. Even more embarrassingly so, I didn’t even arrive to a climax, so I couldn’t even say it was worth it.
I climbed back into bed, trying hard to ignore the sounds coming from the other side and slipping on my headphones, putting on anything that would distract my mind.
The next day, I didn’t wake up as early as I had liked. I ended up falling asleep pretty late, almost 2:30 in the morning, which was not my usual bedtime, clearly. But it was 12PM, still enough time to enjoy a light brunch before officially starting the day.
I changed into some loose clothes, making my way down to the café. Even though I felt guilty about last night, I felt ok enough to confidently walk into the café knowing Nicholas wouldn’t be there. Either he’d be too tired from his late night drinking and stayed in, or he would’ve started his day earlier and already had his coffee for the day. And when I entered the area, I found myself to be correct. He wasn’t there.
Comfortably, I ordered the same meal from yesterday, a croissant and a pot of tea, taking my seat at the same table. What can I say, I’m a creature of habit. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.
Almost as soon as I sat down, the barista came over with my things, setting them down with a polite smile. Tired and hungry, I pulled a chunk out of the croissant and placed it into my mouth, savoring its sweet taste. I enjoyed my first meal of the day calmly and slowly, relaxed to know I wouldn’t bump into Nicholas right now. Maybe I’d have a few hours to myself before I did. But of course, my peace was short-lived.
As I picked at my food, the front door to the hotel chimed. I was too focused on pouring myself the last few ounces of tea into my mug to look up, but I didn’t have to. A familiar presence approached my table, “Mind if I join you?” Nicholas asked.
I looked up, my eyes locking onto his. He had that oh-so charming smile plastered on his face — innocent, as if he wasn’t the one partially responsible for keeping me up late.
“Sure,” I said, pulling the pot away from my mug.
He pulled up a chair from the neighboring table, sitting down across from me while his gaze flickered down at my half-eaten croissant. “You like taking your time, don’t you?”
I felt a rush of heat creeping up the back of my neck at his casual teasing. He was wearing a faded tee, not from age but one that looked like it had been drying out in the sun too long, his gold cross chain hidden under the collar. I’m sure he looked good in anything he wore.
“Don’t you?” I asked without missing a beat.
Nicholas stifled a smirk, tapping his finger against the table, “So what’d you do last night?”
I almost choked on my own spit at the question, clearing my throat. Dear god, please let me not stumble over my words. “Not much, why?”
He sharply inhaled, like he was unsure if he should answer, “I had knocked on your door to invite you out to the bar again, but you didn’t answer.”
I stifled a chuckle, shrugging my shoulders, “Why? Were you afraid I was doing something better?”
Nicholas’s fingers played at the edge of my plate, smirking. “I figured you were out walking or something,” he smiled.
“Well, I planned to,” I picked at my croissant, ripping off a tiny piece and placing it in my mouth, “but I ended up staying in.”
“Oh? You stayed in?” He shifted in his seat, thinking about his next words. “Sleeping?”
I calculated my answer. I didn’t want him to be embarrassed about the fact that I could hear him having sex the past two nights. “Yeah, early night,” I kept it short, hoping he’d drop the subject or, at least, change the topic.
I wasn’t sure if he believed me, but I didn’t care to elaborate. His presence was disarming enough without dredging up last night’s… intrusive thoughts. Instead, I took another sip of tea and focused on not meeting his gaze.
“So, then why’d you come down here so late in the morning?” He asked, a grin playing at his lips.
I stumbled on my words, trying to find an answer, Nicholas becoming more amused and entertained the more I stumbled. Was he waiting around for me? Did he know his proclivities had kept me up? Did he know I could hear through the walls?
“Lazy morning,” I shrugged my shoulders. He stifled a chuckle, accepting my answer without too much kickback. “What about you?” I asked, turning the tables on him. “What did you get up to last night?”
His grin didn’t falter. If anything, it grew sharper, and he leaned forward just slightly, resting his forearms on the table. “Me? Nothing much,” his finger twiddled near my croissant, pushing around the tea spoon next to it, “I had a drink or two. A little company.” His eyes flickered up to meet mine.
I swallowed hard, the tension between us thickening. His choice of words hung in the air, deliberate and calculated. He knew exactly what he was doing dangling that tidbit of information in front of me, seeing if I’d bite, but I wasn’t going to.
Taking a sip of my tea, I pretended to brush off his words, “Sounds like you had fun,” I spoke casually, keeping my expression neutral.
Nicholas tilted his head, watching me closely. “I would’ve had even more fun, but I had some plans fall through,” he paused, “I had to improvise.”
Oh, the calculation in his words were driving me mad, especially because I didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of baiting a specific reaction out of me. Was I right? Could that have been me in his room last night if I decided to go out with him?
I set the cup down as calmly as I could manage, but inside, I was shaking, “Doesn’t seem like you had any trouble improvising, then.”
For a moment, Nicholas’s fingers stopped tapping against the plate, that infuriating smirk returning. He leaned back into his chair, amused, “You heard, didn’t you?“
My eyes nearly fell out of my head, but I tried to keep it cool, "Heard what?"
His laugh was soft but full of certainty. "Come on, (Y/N). I heard you watching a movie the other night. These walls,” he gestured lazily toward the ceiling, “are paper thin; it was like I was in your room watching it with you.” He leaned toward me, resting his arms on the table again, “That’s why you woke up late, isn’t it?"
God, I wanted to shrivel up and die right then and there. It was absolutely infuriating how he could figure me out so easily. But my suspicions were confirmed — he did know, this entire time, and he still decided to have loud sex knowing anybody in the neighboring room could hear. And he had no shame about it!
My face burned with embarrassment, and l avoided his gaze like my life depended on it. "I didn't hear anything," I stammered, lying so poorly I might as well have just admitted the truth. “I’m a deep sleeper.”
Nicholas tilted his head, that insufferable smirk deepening. “A deep sleeper, huh?” His voice dripped with amusement. He rested his chin in his palm as he studied me like I was some kind of puzzle. “Alright, I’ll take your word for it.”
My grip tightened on the edge of the table, desperate to regain some semblance of control.
“For what it's worth...” Nicholas pushed back his chair and stood, smiling down at me. He leaned down toward me, his tone softening just enough to send a shiver down my spine. "If I'd known you were listening, I might've put on a better show." He took a small bite of my croissant, dusting the crumbs off his hands and making his way toward the door, winking at me before he exited.
Unable to fathom what had just happened, I stayed planted in my seat. Did he seriously just say that? My thoughts spiraled. Was this a game to him? Could he tell just how truly flustered I was by his teasing? Was I really that easy to rile up?
I pushed my plate and mug away from me, hoping to regain some space to avoid feeling suffocated by the remnants of his presence that Nicholas had left behind in his wake. And yet, I couldn’t deny the pull he had on me. No matter how hard I tried to push it down, to deny the heat in my cheeks and the butterflies in my stomach, it was there. Nicholas was under my skin.
I tried to avoid running into him the rest of the day, to suffocate him out of me like one would a parasite, but to know you’re avoiding someone, you’d have to be on the lookout, on your toes. Every corner I turned, I checked to see if he was there. Every room I entered, I scanned around looking for his distinct tousled hair. On the beach, I hid behind my sunglasses, scanning the shore for the familiar build of him. Finding him nowhere, I relaxed a bit, choosing to free myself and going for a short walk along the water.
I let the water lap around my ankles, rhythmically enveloping them as I slowly walked along the borderline empty beach. I picked up a few shells that caught my eye — only the colorful, unique ones. In fact, I kept walking, walking, and walking until it became evening, the sun setting over the beach, slowly but surely.
I returned to my spot, sitting back and admiring the colors of the sky. In fact, I was so relaxed, huddled under my towel, that I may have yawned once or twice. As I continued to look out into the horizon, I felt a cold tap on my shoulder, turning my head up to see who was interrupting my moment of relaxation. Of course, by now, I already knew who.
Nicholas stood there, towering over me with a pair of beers in his hand, holding one out for me. “Pretty, right?” He asked with a smile, looking out into the purple water.
I glanced at the beer in his outstretched hand before shifting my gaze to his face, the fading sunlight casting an orange glow over his sharp features. I kept my expression neutral, taking the beer from him without a word. He took that as an invitation to plop down in the space next to me, stretching his legs out and taking a sip from his can.
We sat there in silence for a while, the only sounds being the gentle crash of waves and the occasional chatter of distant beachgoers. It was… oddly peaceful, almost enough to make me forget about the tension that seemed to follow us — or should I say, me — like a shadow. Maybe, also, because I was a little sleepy.
“So, did you find what you were looking for today?” Nicholas asked suddenly, breaking the silence.
I frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”
“You were walking up and down the beach for hours,” he said, motioning toward the small pile of shells I’d collected.
My mouth grew to a smile, cocky, “You were watching me for hours?”
For the first time, Nicholas stammered on his words, and it was a sight I was incredibly amused by. His head fell as he chuckled, maybe flustered that I had finally caught him in a moment instead of the other way around, “Yeah,” he nodded his head, his cheeks pink, “I was.”
I couldn’t help the smirk tugging at my lips. Watching him falter, even slightly, was a rare treat, one I planned to savor. “I can see why you like pushing people’s buttons now.”
“I don’t like pushing people’s buttons,” he said as he brought the beer to his lips, “just yours.”
It was insane just how quickly Nicholas could turn something back onto you. The admission was so casual, yet it hit me like a rogue wave. I stared at him, half-expecting him to laugh or brush it off as a joke, but he simply leaned back on his hands, eyes on the horizon like he hadn’t just set my pulse racing.
“I’m sure you say that to all your company,” I turned to face the water, sipping on my beer and trying to hide my flushed cheeks. I chose my words carefully, wanting to see how’d he react.
Nicholas let out a low chuckle beside me. “I don’t,” he said simply, his voice drawing me in despite myself. “Only you.”
I stole a quick glance at him, but he was already looking ahead, the way his profile caught the last rays of the setting sun, casting long shadows across his features. There was something magnetic about him, and the more time I spent around him, the more I couldn’t ignore it. He was confident, teasing, but there was something underneath, something deeper that made it hard to read him completely.
A part of me wanted to challenge him, maybe even keep him on his toes. But there was another part of me, the part I kept hidden, that wanted to give in to the tension, to see where it could lead. My mind raced with the possibilities, each thought contradicting the last, until I was sure I was overthinking every moment, every word we exchanged.
I cleared my throat and shifted my position in the chair, facing toward him completely. “Indulge me. What makes me so different that you just can’t help but push my buttons?”
He smiled, like he had an answer prepared since the moment we met, “You don’t give in easily, but you seem like the type to give yourself completely once you do.”
Nicholas’s words lingered in the air, making my pulse quicken. It was strange how effortlessly he could unravel me with just a few words. I tried to maintain my composure, but the quiet between us seemed to stretch longer than I was comfortable with. His words felt like a challenge, but also like a promise. My mind kept drifting back to the night before, to the sounds of him on the other side of the wall.
“I’m not so sure about that,” I replied, keeping my voice steady, though it didn’t quite mask the undercurrent of uncertainty I was feeling.
Nicholas raised an eyebrow, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he shifted closer. “Really? Because there’s only so much pressure somebody can take before they start to crack.”
I wanted to say something sharp, something that would put distance between us, but his confidence was suffocating, almost intoxicating. I couldn’t seem to gather the words to shut him down. So, instead, I took another long sip from my beer, pretending to focus on the view ahead of me, though my mind was anything but at ease.
His smile widened, “Aren’t you cracking?”
For a moment, it felt like time stopped. The world seemed to fade into the background, and it was just the two of us, sitting there in the fading sunlight, with nothing but the sound of the waves and the sudden weight of his words hanging between us.
I cleared my throat, finishing my beer, “I don’t think so,” I said lightly, trying to mask the effect his words had on me.
“We’ll see about that then,” he finally said, his voice low and casual, though I could tell there was a hint of challenge in it.
I was almost afraid to look at him, afraid of what I might see in his eyes. But I couldn’t help it. Slowly, I turned my head, and our eyes met, the connection between us palpable. My head slowly started to move forward by itself, millimeter by millimeter, toward Nicholas. My heart raced faster and faster, it was practically thumping out of my chest when I realized that he was leaning in, too. Right as I was about to close my eyes to welcome whatever was about to happen, I heard a group of people loudly laugh as they passed by behind us. I quietly chuckled to myself, thinking that may be my cue to leave.
Satiating my dose of Nicholas for the day, I dusted myself off and stood up from the beach chair, handing him my empty beer bottle, “I guess we will,” I said, not too much of a challenge behind my words. I grabbed my chair and looked back at Nicholas with a friendly grin before walking off.
I couldn’t shake the feeling of Nicholas’s eyes on me, but I powered through, making my way to my room. The second I entered, I went to the bathroom and stripped off my sandy clothes, turning on the shower to warm myself up from sitting in the cool, evening breeze. The hot water streamed over my skin, washing away the lingering chill from the beach. I let out a deep breath, closing my eyes as the steam began to fill the space.
My mind wandered back to the conversation with Nicholas. His words replayed in my head, their weight sinking in a little deeper with each memory: We’ll see about that.
After my shower, I slipped into a cozy tee and shorts, feeling a bit more grounded. I sat by the window, towel drying my hair, watching the moonlight dance on the water. The calm of the night settled around me, but my mind was still restless.
To distract myself, I turned on the tv, not caring what was on but making sure to keep the sound at a reasonable volume to not disturb Nicholas but just loud enough that I might not hear tonight’s mystery woman moan through the wall.
As the night stretched on, I tried my best to focus on the random show playing on the screen, but my thoughts kept drifting. Every sound outside my window, every muffled thump from the hallway, made my heart race just a little faster thinking it might be Nicholas arriving to his room.
The hours ticked by. I hadn’t heard anything from his side of the wall yet — not a voice, not the creak of a bedframe, nothing. It was almost worse than the alternative. The anticipation was maddening. I half-wondered if he knew I was waiting, if he was deliberately drawing this out just to mess with me.
Finally, around midnight, I heard the faintest sound of a door opening and closing. My stomach twisted, though I wasn’t sure why. I told myself I didn’t care, that whatever he did wasn’t any of my business. There were a few thumps followed by a silence on the other side. I tried to focus on the tv but my ears seemed to be tuned in on what was going on the opposite side of the wall.
Minutes passed, and the silence persisted. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe Nicholas had turned over a new leaf tonight, or maybe he just couldn’t hook himself a lady tonight. But just as my focus started to drift back to the tv, the silence was broken by a clear, unmistakable groan — Nicholas. I half-expected it to be followed by the high-pitched moan of a woman, like it was both nights prior, but it never came.
I should’ve turned the volume up, drowned it out, or grabbed my headphones. Instead, I sat there, frozen, as the groaning grew louder — his voice, unmistakable and far too close for comfort. I hated how my body reacted. The heat in my cheeks, the way my chest tightened with every noise, the throbbing sensation between my thighs. I shook my head, trying to dispel the thought, but I let my curiosity get the best of me.
I slid off the bed and crept toward the closet, my heart pounding in my chest. My rational side screamed at me to stop, to mind my own business, but something about the sound of his voice pulled me in. But the little devil on my shoulder told me that I had already eavesdropped twice before, what’s one more time?
Opening the closet doors quietly, I leaned over the luggage rack and pressed my ear lightly against the cool surface of the wall, listening. The groans continued, low and guttural, accompanied by the light sound of a rhythmic wet slapping, sending an uninvited warmth through my body. It took a moment for me to realize there was no second voice, no telltale feminine giggle or breathy gasp. It was just Nicholas.
My breath caught in my throat. He's alone. The realization sent a shockwave through me, equal parts relief and something else I didn't want to name. He wasn't with anyone tonight. He was... taking care of himself.
I pressed my forehead against the wall, closing my eyes as his voice — raw, unguarded, and achingly intimate — filled my ears. My hand instinctively moved to my chest, clutching the fabric of my shirt as I fought the conflicting feelings that raced through me. However guilty I felt for listening in, I couldn’t pull myself away. I was entranced.
His groans deepened, interspersed with uneven breaths, and I felt my knees weaken. It was maddening how his voice seemed to reach right into me. My lips parted slightly, my breath shaky as my body betrayed me, responding to the sounds with a heat I tried desperately to ignore.
The wet slapping quickened, a whimper escaping his lips followed by erratic heavy breathing. I lost all inhibitions, slipping my hand under my underwear. I exhaled shakily, my head resting against the wall, feeling the vibrations of his voice travel through me. My fingers moved instinctively, slow and hesitant at first, matching the rhythm of the sounds spilling from him. Each groan, each sigh seemed to draw me deeper into a haze I couldn't escape.
My mind was a mess of contradictions: shame, desire, and something more dangerous — an unspoken connection, even if he didn't know I was there. I bit my lip, trying to stay as silent as possible, but the tension within me built with each passing moment, threatening to undo me entirely.
“Fuckfuckfuck,” Nicholas quickly whined out, followed by a loud moan.
I slipped my other hand under my shirt, kneading my breast, as my fingers worked my throbbing clit. I felt the rapid beat of my heart as it matched the rhythm of his breath. The heat between my legs intensified, and the sound of his voice grew louder in my ears, pulling me further into the spiral. His groans were rough, almost frantic now, and I could feel every pulse, every heavy breath reverberating through the wall like it was echoing through my very bones.
I tried to focus, tried to pull myself out of this situation before it became something I couldn't undo, but I couldn't stop. I couldn't pull away, couldn't shake the pull of him. I closed my eyes tightly, my fingers rubbing harder against my clit in frantic circles, then moving them lower and slipping my middle and ring finger inside of me. Desperate, I pulled my shorts off me, letting them land at my feet.
My own breathing became erratic, escaping through my nostrils as I tried to keep myself from making any sound, biting the inside of my cheek and shutting my eyes closed as I pleasured myself.
His voice broke through the haze of my thoughts again. "God... need you..."
The words, the desperation in them, sent me into a frenzy. I couldn’t hold in my voice any longer — a quiet, whimper escaping my lips as I pumped my fingers inside me, pretending they were Nicholas’s. I could feel the tension in me coiling tighter and tighter the more I heard him talk through his pleasure.
A high-pitched groan slipped out of him, the wet slapping quickening even more. I could almost picture him on the other side — laying down in the middle of his bed, shirtless. his legs dangling off as he tugged at himself, his eyes shut as he grabbed at his hair, giving in.
My breath hitched at the vivid image in my mind. It was a dangerous thought, but one that I desperately wished I was there to see.
I could almost hear the strained breath in his throat, as if he was on the edge, about to break. The thought alone sent an electric charge through me, spurring me to move faster, my fingers pressing deeper, matching the intensity of his own rhythm.
"Please," he moaned, his voice broken, raw with need. "Fuck..."
The vulnerability in his voice, so exposed, so real, made me lose all control. I found myself unable to think or reason anymore. I was lost in him, in the sound of his pleasure, and in the dangerous path I was walking.
His voice faltered, his groans growing more frantic, and that's when I felt it — the sudden wave of warmth, the rush of sensation sweeping over me. But just as I was reaching my peak, so was he. Nicholas let out a sound so intimate and raw that it sent a shiver down my spine. Then came a low, guttural groan followed by the unmistakable — my name.
“(Y/N)- fuck!”
It happened just as I was about to reach orgasm, but I was so startled to hear my name that my eyes shot open and I stumbled back from the wall, knocking over the luggage rack below with a solid thud as it tipped over. I tried to catch it before it hit the floor, stumbling to reach for it, but my effort was for naught. A deafening silence filled the room after the loud noise quickly settled. The only thing I could hear was the loud thumping coming from my chest, becoming faster as I realized my predicament.
My breath came in shallow gasps, my body stiff with tension, caught somewhere between shock and embarrassment. On the other side of the wall, there was a beat of complete silence. I held my breath, waiting to hear something — anything — but nothing came. Not a footstep, not a sound. My mind raced, praying that Nicholas might’ve not heard the ruckus through his climax. Don’t orgasms dull one’s senses?
And then, as if the silence was suffocating me, I heard it. A faint creak — Nicholas’s door, opening then closing with a heavy thud. My chest tightened, anxiety coursing through my veins. I stood there frozen, my legs completely unable to move as if I had stuck them in buckets of cement. I felt every inch of my skin burn with humiliation. That’s when I heard a knock at my door, not light like the day before. It sounded desperate. I couldn’t run; I couldn’t hide. Nicholas knew I was in here.
Slowly, I inched closer to the door, my hand trembling as I reached for the doorknob. I tried to swallow my nerves, but I couldn’t fight the fact that I felt like I wasn’t getting enough oxygen. I breathed heavily as I opened the door, clutching at the edge as my eyes fell on Nicholas’s heaving bare chest.
He stood there, his chest rising and falling, glistening from the thin layer of sweat that he had worked up. A slight satisfied grin played on his lips as his eyes trailed down my body, lingering on my bottom half as I stood there in nothing but my shirt and lacy underwear.
He didn't wait for an invitation, stepping inside as soon as the door cracked open, closing it behind him with a deafening click. We stood there, facing each other, the silence hanging thick in the air. I could barely meet his gaze, my cheeks still burning with humiliation. I stammered, hoping to explain myself with a pathetic excuse of a reason, but he interrupted me with a quiet shush, still smirking.
He placed a finger gently over his lips, his eyes dark with something unreadable. "No need to explain," he whispered, stepping closer, his presence dominating the space between us. My breath hitched as he closed the distance, cornering me against the wall, his body heat enveloping me, making my pulse race.
The air felt thick, suffocating, as if the room was closing in on me with every breath. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I couldn't quite figure out what to do with my hands, so I held them behind my back, pressing them against the wall.
“Were you listening in?” He asked, brushing his hand up my sides before it settled on my hip, my body trembling under his touch. It was everything I wanted him to do to me, and yet, I still felt nervous under him.
Too ashamed of myself to open my mouth to answer, I nodded my head hesitantly. Nicholas's smirk widened, but there was no mockery in it. No teasing. His hand slid to my chin, tilting my head up so that our gazes locked. There was no escape now — no way to hide.
“I hoped you were,” he murmured, his voice low and warm, sending shivers down my spine. His thumb traced the line of my jaw slowly, deliberately.
He was so close now that I could feel his breath against my skin, and I was painfully aware of how badly my body was reacting to him. His thumb brushed over my lips, and I instinctively parted them, my breath hitching as his gaze softened, darkened. I could feel the tension between us, so thick that I could almost taste it.
His other hand slid around to the small of my back, pressing me into him, the heat of his body sending waves of electricity through me. His eyes never left mine, and I could hear the rapid beat of my own heart in my ears, drowning out everything else.
Nicholas murmured, his voice dark and full of intention, "Did you enjoy what you heard?" His fingers tightened ever so slightly on my waist, as if testing my response, and I couldn't help the small, almost imperceptible nod that escaped my lips.
Nicholas's smirk deepened, and he closed the gap between us, his lips barely grazing mine. His breath was hot and intoxicating, and the world seemed to disappear around us.
“Were you touching yourself?” He questioned, his hand moving down to my hips, my body squirming the moment his finger hooked itself under the band of my underwear.
I closed my eyes, my lips parting at his touch, nodding my head again. My hands clenched behind my back, the urge to touch him overwhelming. But I couldn't seem to move, too caught up in the magnetic pull between us.
Nicholas's thumb traced the outline of my lips again, the action slow and deliberate. His gaze never left mine, and I could see the hunger in his eyes, the way he studied me like I was something he wanted, something he couldn't resist.
His voice was a whisper, low and intoxicating. "You can touch me if you want to." It was a quiet command, but there was an invitation in it.
I hesitated for a moment, but then, as if drawn by an invisible force, my hand slid up his chest, feeling the firm muscle beneath the soft skin. My fingers traced the lines of his collarbone, skimming down to the waistband of his pants before I pulled away, suddenly embarrassed by the boldness of the move. Nicholas didn't give me time to retreat too much, though. With a gentle but firm grasp, he pulled my hand back to his chest, guiding it lower, urging me to feel the hard planes of his body.
His lips parted slightly as he lowered his head, his breath hot against my ear. “Don't be shy,” he whispered again, his voice thick with desire.
I swallowed hard, my pulse racing as I let my hand roam over his body, feeling the heat radiating from him. The muscles of his chest were solid under my touch, his skin warm and soft in contrast. My fingertips trailed down to the waistband of his pants again, this time without hesitation. He didn't stop me, didn't pull away. Instead, he let out a low, approving sound, his body shifting closer to mine.
The closeness was dizzying. His scent filled my senses, sharp and intoxicating, and I couldn't help but pull him toward me by his belt loops and lean in, my lips just inches from his.
He took charge, his lips brushing mine softly at first, teasing, testing, until the pressure grew, and I found myself kissing him back without hesitation. The kiss was electric, hungry, full of that same tension that had been building between us for days. His hand slid around my back, pulling me closer, as I tangled my fingers into his hair, deepening the kiss.
My body responded to him, betraying all the resistance l'd tried to put up. I felt his hands everywhere — on my back, on my hips, his hands softly squeezing my ass, pulling me closer as if he couldn't get enough. A groan rumbled low in his throat as his lips moved to my neck, trailing kisses down the curve of my collarbone. I tilted my head back, surrendering to the sensation, every nerve alive, every thought clouded by the pull of him.
His hands slipped under my shirt, sliding along my bare skin, and I gasped at the coolness of his touch against the heat of my body. The intimacy of it all, the way he seemed to know exactly where to touch, how to make me shiver, was overwhelming. But I wasn't the only one lost in this; it was clear from his ragged breathing, from the way his hands shook slightly as they explored my body, that he was just as desperate as I was.
"Everything I did this weekend was to get your attention," Nicholas murmured against my skin. His lips pressed against the curve of my jaw, trailing to my ear, where he nipped at the lobe gently. "I've wanted you since the moment I saw you in the stairwell. I can't get enough of you, (Y/N),” his voice rough, almost pleading, “I want you.”
His confession hit me like a tidal wave, and for a second, I couldn't breathe. His words, his desire, everything he was feeling was laid bare before me, and I couldn't deny that I wanted him just as much.
"I want you, too, Nicholas," I whispered, my voice barely audible, but the raw honesty behind it made his body freeze. His hands paused where they rested on my back, and I could feel the weight of his gaze on me, as if he was trying to read my soul.
I, however, didn't hesitate. My hands found the sides of his face, pulling him back toward me as I kissed him fiercely. The kiss became frantic as our bodies collided, desperate, as though we were both starved for this connection. His hands moved quickly, pulling my shirt over my head and discarding it on the floor. I felt the cool air hit my skin, but it did nothing to dampen the fire building inside me.
I couldn't pull away. My body, my mind, all of it was consumed by him. His lips trailed down my neck, his teeth grazing lightly over the sensitive skin of my collarbone as his hands roamed lower, finding the waistband of my underwear again. I gasped as he gently tugged them down, his fingers brushing against my skin with an intimacy that made me tremble.
Nicholas was steady in his movements, never rushing, always making sure I was with him, always checking, always asking if I was okay with everything. But there was a fire in his eyes, a need that mirrored mine, a hunger that couldn't be ignored.
"I want to make you feel good," he whispered against my skin, his voice thick with desire. All I could do was nod my head at his statement, ready to give myself to him.
He wasted no time, lifting me effortlessly. I wrapped my legs around him, hooking them behind his lower back. The feeling of his jeans grazing my bare center was enough to trigger a quiet mewl out of me. Nicholas groaned at the sound, his lips crashing back onto mine as he carried me toward the bed. When my back hit the soft mattress, I felt the weight of him settle over me, his hands bracing either side of my head.
His gaze bore into mine, his chest rising and falling heavily as he paused, his face hovering just inches above mine. For a moment, everything stilled, the only sound was the rhythmic beat of our breaths mingling in the air between us. As he settled down in the space next to me, propping himself up by the elbow, his free hand reached up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing over my flushed skin with a tenderness that sent shivers down my spine. The both of us laid there, face to face.
His lips parted as if to say something but no words escaped his lips, the hand on my cheek slowly making its way down, down. It lingered, at first, over my sensitive breast, tracing slow circles around my nipple. I bit my lip at the sensation, digging my head into his chest as I quietly moaned.
Nicholas quietly giggled, amused to see me squirming under him, as he slithered his supporting arm behind my head and pulled me closer to him. His lips rested on my forehead as he slid his hand further down, enveloping my center. “God, you’re soaking,” he whispered; I could feel his smirk against my skin.
His fingers massaged my throbbing bud, then slipped his fingers into me, his touch deft and confident. I loudly gasped and clutched at his arm, arching into him. “Oh, fuck,” I quietly breathed, nibbling on my bottom lip to bite back my moans.
He smiled, “Don’t hold yourself back. Be as loud as you want,” he whispered as his fingers continued to coax me, his thumb massaging my clit.
Digging my nails into his shoulder, my chest violently rising and falling as he pumped his fingers, I shook my head. “Somebody’s gonna hear,” I stammered out through my labored breathing.
“So?” He questioned, slipping a third finger in. Nicholas's confidence was maddening, his tone both teasing and commanding, making it impossible to resist him. “Let them hear how good I make you feel," he murmured, his lips brushing against my temple.
My body arched involuntarily, my head falling back into the pillow as a moan escaped me despite my best efforts to stifle it. Nicholas was not having it. He quickened his pace, quickly slipping in and out with ease, as his thumb continued to circle around my clit. His lips kissed at my neck, his tongue licking my skin before gently sucking. I turned my head, my hand clutching at the back of his hair as I passionately made out with him, softly moaning between kisses.
I was unraveling beneath him, my body trembling as the heat coiled tighter and tighter in my core. My moans slowly became louder and louder, filling the room, and I knew there was no hiding how he was making me feel. The pleasure that I was feeling was so great that I couldn’t focus on kissing Nicholas anymore. I had to pull my head away, glancing down at his hand pumping in and out of me before shutting my eyes and burying my head into his chest again. I could barely find the strength to call out to him, my voice faltering as I moaned out, “Nic…”
"That's it,” he encouraged, his voice a low growl. "Say my name, baby,” his fingers reshaping themselves inside me to reach further
My breathing became erratic hearing him call me baby, my nails raking across his shoulder as I clung to him, "Nicholas," I cried, louder this time, no longer caring who might hear.
The sound of my voice seemed to spur him on, his movements growing even more precise, more relentless. His words, his touch, the heat of his body — it was all too much. "It’s ok; I’ve got you," he murmured against my neck, his lips leaving a trail of kisses along my skin. His gaze locking with mine, his fingers never faltering.
His words were my undoing. I shattered around him, my body arching as a wave of pleasure crashed over me, pulling me under. My cries of ecstasy filled the room, and I clung to Nicholas like he was the only thing keeping me tethered to reality. He held me through it, his embrace steady and reassuring as I rode out the high while his fingers continued to coax every pleasure out of me, slowing to a stop.
When I finally came down, my body limped against his, Nicholas pressed a soft kiss to my lips, his hand leaving my core and coming up to his lips. I watched in awe as he licked at his fingers, wrapping his lips around them as he savored every trace of me with a deliberate slowness that made my breath hitch. His eyes never left mine, their intensity sending a shiver down my spine. I buried my face against his shoulder, my breathing still uneven.
He brushed away the damp hair from my face with the back of his pinky, “You taste even better than I imagined,” he spoke softly, his voice velvety.
The weight of his gaze was almost too much, but when I looked into his brown eyes, all I saw was warmth, tenderness, and something deeper that made my stomach ache. My stomach wasn’t the only thing aching, either. The entirety of me did — my hands, my core, my soul. I ached for him.
Desperate to have him at the end of my fingertips, I trailed my hands across his chest, settling on the nape of his neck as I captured his lips in a kiss. Nicholas replied with a soft groan, his hand finding my waist and his fingers delicately digging into my skin. The kiss deepened, our breaths mingling as I pulled him closer, needing to feel every inch of him against me. My hands wandered, exploring the contours of his back, his muscles taut under my fingertips.
I pulled my lips away, pressing my forehead against his, “I hope you’re not done with me yet,” I whispered.
A soft chuckle escaped his lips, “Far from it.”
He cradled my head in his hand, angling it slightly as his lips moved with mine, urgent yet tender. Nicholas shifted his weight, moving slightly up on the bed, grabbing me by my hips and rolling himself over on the bed as he pulled me on top of him.
My legs straddled his hips, my bare skin brushing against the rough denim of his jeans. The friction sent a jolt through me, and I bit my lip, my eyes locking with his. His hands slid up my thighs, gripping them firmly as if grounding himself in the moment. His gaze roamed over me with unrestrained hunger, making my skin flush under his scrutiny.
His hands continued their slow exploration, sliding up to rest on my waist. "I could look at you like this forever."
His words sent a thrill through me, and I couldn't help but smile, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. He met me halfway, his hands tightening their grip as he deepened the kiss. I let my hands roam, tracing the lines of his chest and shoulders, marveling at the strength beneath my fingertips. His muscles flexed as he moved beneath me, his hands sliding up to cradle my back, holding me close.
My hips began to move instinctively, grinding against him, and Nicholas groaned, his head falling back against the pillow as his eyes fluttered shut. His reaction ignited something in me, a newfound confidence that made me bold. I leaned down, my lips brushing against his ear as I whispered, "Tell me what you want, Nicholas."
His hands gripped my waist tighter, guiding my movements as he let out a low growl. "I want you," he said, his voice rough with desire.
The intensity of his words sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn't hold back the smile that spread across my face. Leaning down, I kissed him again, pouring every ounce of my own desire into it. My hands tangled in his hair as our lips moved together, our breaths mingling as the space between us disappeared entirely.
Nicholas's hands slid down to my ass, his touch firm yet gentle as he guided me to move against him. The friction between us was electric, each movement sending waves of pleasure through me. His lips left mine to trail down my neck, his teeth grazing over my skin in a way that made me gasp.
"You drive me crazy, (Y/N)," he murmured against my collarbone, his voice raw, “you know that?"
I smiled, my hands bracing against his chest as I moved against him, my confidence growing with every reaction I drew from him. "I do now," I replied, my voice breathless.
Nicholas groaned, his hand digging into my skin as he bucked his hips upward, meeting my movements. His control was slipping, and I could feel it in the way his grip tightened, the way his breathing grew ragged. I continued to grind against him, trying to coax out the whimpers I had heard escape his lips when I was listening through the wall.
Nicholas's hands slid up my back, his fingers tracing along my spine as he tried to steady himself. His head fell back, his eyebrows tied together as his lips parted in a quiet moan that sent a rush of heat through me. But it wasn’t enough. I brushed my thumb against his bottom lip, slowing to a stop so he could feel the loss, teasing him with the occasional grind, “I want to hear you, Nic.”
He nodded his head, pressing me down against him as he bucked his hips upward repeatedly, desperate for me to continue. “Please, (Y/N),” he shut his eyes closed as he ground himself against me, quietly whining.
Smirkingly, I obliged, slowly continuing to grind against him. I rested my palms on his tense chest, bringing them down to the waistband of his jeans. His fingers curled into my thighs the faster I worked, moaning louder and louder.
“Fuck, I can’t—“ he threw his head back, raggedly moaning.
Looking at him in such a vulnerable state underneath me after days of having to deal with his cocky confidence, it made my blood rush. I played with the button of his jeans, undoing them and shimmying his pants and boxers off just enough for his hard length to free itself under me. I spit my hand, gently stroking him as I positioned his member at my entrance.
Nicholas let out a guttural groan, his hands gripping me firmly as I hovered over him, teasing him with my slow movements. I lowered myself onto him, taking him in inch by inch, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure coursing through my body. A sharp gasp escaped my lips, and Nicholas’s eyes rolled back, his head falling back onto the pillow again. The connection between us was electric, every movement, every sound amplifying the intensity of the moment. Nicholas's hands roamed over my body, his touch both tender and possessive.
As I rode him, I grabbed Nicholas’s hands, leading them to my chest. Even though he could barely keep his eyes open, he understood what I wanted, beginning to knead and pinch at my breasts. I moaned at his touch, bringing one hand of his up to my lips to kiss his fingertips before placing it back on my breast.
Suddenly, I felt him tense under me, arching his back toward me, "Don't stop," he pleaded, his voice becoming an octave higher, his grip on me tightening. "Please, baby, don't stop.”
I didn't. I couldn't. The rhythm between us was intoxicating, building to something that felt almost otherworldly. My name fell from his lips like a prayer, and the sound sent a surge of pleasure through me, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.
Nicholas's hands fell to my hips, guiding my movements as his breathing grew erratic. "I'm close," he groaned, his voice a mix of desperation and pleasure.
I leaned down, my lips brushing against his ear as I whispered, “Come for me, Nic." My words seemed to break the last of his restraint, and his hips bucked up into me with an urgency that sent shockwaves through my entire body.
“Fuck, (Y/N), I —“ His words cut off as a guttural groan escaped him, his body arching beneath me as he came. The intensity of his release sent me spiraling over the edge with him, my body trembling as the product of his pleasure filled me completely, some of the creamy liquid slowly dripping out me.
The aftershocks of our climax left us both trembling, our breaths mingling as we tried to regain control of ourselves. I collapsed onto Nicholas's chest, his arms immediately wrapping around me, holding me close as though he couldn't bear the thought of letting go.
For a while, we just lay there, our bodies pressed together, hearts pounding in unison. His fingers traced lazy patterns along my spine, a small, satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his lips. I could feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath me, the steady rhythm lulling me into a serene haze.
He caught his breath, “That was….” a hint of a chuckle at the end of his words, “That was fucking incredible,” he said as he kissed the top of my head.
I pulled myself off of Nicholas, lying down next to him and covering myself with the bed sheets. I thought about what he had said earlier at the beach — I may not give in easily, but when I do, I give in completely. It felt nice to finally be seen by someone who could understand me even after only knowing me for a few days compared to other people who have known me for years and still manage to get things wrong about me.
I rolled over to face Nicholas, my hand finding his. He smiled softly, intertwining his fingers with mine and kissing the back of my hand. A smile curled at the end of my lips seeing him so affectionate, “When do you check out of the hotel?” I asked, playing with his hand.
“In the morning. You?” He asked, caressing my cheek with his other hand.
“In the morning,” I replied, my eyes flickering up at him to see his reaction.
He was quiet, not saying anything at first, however, he rolled me over and pulled me closer to him, spooning me and pressing a kiss to my shoulder. “We’ll have tonight, then,” he whispered, wrapping his heavy arm around my waist and nuzzling his head into the pillow.
My chest tightened at his words, and I couldn't help but smile softly. I rested my hand above his, intertwining our fingers. Before I knew it, I had fallen asleep to the sound of Nicholas’s soft, rhythmic breathing.
A few hours later, which felt like minutes, I stirred awake to the soft light filtering through the curtains. The remnants of the previous night were scattered around — my shirt and underwear and his jeans and boxers strewn carelessly across the floor, the faint scent of Nicholas's cologne mingling with the crisp hotel room air.
The weight of his big, beefy arm draped over my waist anchored me in place. For a moment, I stayed still, savoring the warmth of his body against mine and the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath my cheek before I rotated in place so I could admire Nicholas as he rested.
We were so close that I could count the beauty marks on his face. There was one on his cheek and another on his chin. His lashes cast shadows on his cheekbones, his lips slightly parted as he breathed deeply. I softly grazed my fingers over the scar on his forehead, wondering how he might’ve gotten it, though I’m not sure if I’d ever find out. He looked peaceful, vulnerable even, and the sight tugged at something deep within me.
I let my fingers trail lightly over his chest, tracing the faint outlines of the muscles that had pressed against me so urgently just hours ago. He stirred slightly, a low hum escaping his throat as his arm tightened around me instinctively.
His eyes fluttered open, landing on me before he closed them again for a few seconds, “Morning,” he murmured, smiling, his voice thick and husky from sleep. He opened his eyes again, gazing at me longingly.
"Morning," I whispered back, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze despite everything we had shared. His hand slid up my back, his fingers tangling in my hair as he leaned in for a slow, lingering kiss.
“Are we staying in?” he asked, shifting his body to face me.
I smiled, running a hand through his messy bedhead. "Oh, I wish," I admitted, my cheeks flushing as the memories of the night before flooded back, "but we have to check out.”
Nicholas groaned, his forehead pressing gently against mine. “Don’t remind me,” he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He brushed a strand of hair from my face, his fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “We should get some breakfast together before we leave.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, pushing myself up and sitting on the edge of the bed, stretching my arms. I let out a small sigh, feeling the weight of the moment settle on me. The night had been incredible, but the thought of leaving was already filling me with an unexpected ache. “Breakfast sounds perfect,” I said softly, faking a small yawn.
Nicholas and I didn’t waste any time. I changed into a clean set of clothes and packed up my things, my body slowly waking up the more I walked back and forth in the room. Nicholas put on his boxers and jeans and retreated to his room for a bit, quickly throwing all his stuff into a backpack before coming back to my room and helping me carry my bags to the car.
I think I was too somber to say anything, knowing if I did, that a “goodbye” might be attached to the end of whatever I say.
The silence between us felt heavy but not uncomfortable as we made our way to the café, our movements synchronized without the need for words.
As we entered, the delicious smell of freshly-baked pastries beckoned to us. The morning sunlight filtered through the large windows, casting soft rays across the inside. The sound of light chatter and the occasional clinking of cups and forks against the ceramic plates filled the air, but it all felt distant compared to the warmth between Nicholas and me.
He slithered his hand into mine as he led us to the register, politely smiling to the worker. He ordered his meal, a coffee and a Belgian waffle. I was about to order for myself when he interrupted. “She’ll have the Italian crème croissant and a pot of green tea, please.”
I couldn’t help but smile. That first morning in the café, I could’ve sworn Nicholas was so focused on his book that he didn’t realize what was going on around him; I had no idea he was paying attention to me the entire time.
He paid the worker for our food, letting her keep the change, and waked us over to the same table I had sat in both days prior. We sat close, our knees brushing under the table as we picked at our food, the conversation flowing easily despite the unspoken weight of the situation hanging in the air. After some minutes, the worker came over with our food, and we continued to converse while enjoying our breakfast.
Nicholas looked at me, his expression soft but with a hint of something more playful. “So, at what point are you gonna give me your number?” he asked, taking a bite of his waffle.
I paused, chuckling softly as I chewed on my croissant for a moment before meeting his gaze. “What?” I asked confusedly, trying to keep my tone casual, though my heart rate had sped up slightly.
“What, you thought you’d get rid of me so easily?” He took a sip of his coffee, shaking his head and smirking.
I laughed, the sound a little nervous but genuine. “I just didn’t want to assume anything or get my hopes up,” I admitted, giving him a sideways glance. There was a warmth spreading through me that I couldn’t quite place, something between affection and the lingering thrill of uncertainty.
Nicholas’s eyes softened, and he leaned back slightly, his hands wrapped around his cup. “Well, get your hopes up,” he said, his voice steady but with an undercurrent of something deeper. “because I don’t plan on letting go of you anytime soon.”
I swallowed, feeling my heart rate quicken at his words. There was something about the way he said it — so casually but with an intensity beneath the surface — that made me realize just how serious he was. And maybe how serious I was about him too.
“Alright, alright,” I said, smiling, trying to shake off the sudden rush of emotions swirling inside me. “Let’s trade phones.”
Nicholas’s smile widened, and he handed me his phone without hesitation, his fingers brushing against mine as we traded devices. I typed my number into the phone app, adding myself as a contact.
“Just remember we’re in different time zones before you decide to call me in the middle of the night,” I joked as I handed his phone back to him.
Nicholas laughed, a warm, genuine sound that made my heart flutter. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he replied, slipping the phone back into his pocket then handing me mine, the screen off. “Though I won’t make any promises I can’t keep.”
I rolled my eyes playfully, but the blush creeping up my neck betrayed me.
We finished our breakfast. Nicholas quietly walked me over to my car. He walked close to me, his hand occasionally brushing against mine before finally capturing it. He leaned casually against the car with his arms crossed. He looked so effortless, so at ease, but there was something in his eyes — a softness, maybe even a hint of reluctance — that made it clear he felt the weight of the moment, too.
We both stood there silently, knowing this was our goodbye. Nicholas uncrossed his arms, stepping closer until he was right in front of me. His fingers tilted my chin up, and he searched my eyes, his brows knitting together slightly as if to say something. However, instead of resorting to words, he inched his face closer and closer until our lips grazed.
The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if we were both trying to hold on to the fleeting moment. But then, as if we both couldn’t help it, the kiss deepened, more urgent now, the electricity between us undeniable. My hands found their way to his shirt, pulling him closer, while his arms wrapped around me, his fingers pressing into my back as if he wanted to keep me there forever. Though, we pulled away slowly, our foreheads resting against each other as we caught our breath. Neither of us spoke immediately, both of us reluctant to break the spell.
Nicholas stepped back, “How about next time you have a free weekend you treat yourself to a trip to LA and come visit me?”
My heart skipped a beat at his words, the weight of his offer sinking in. I couldn’t tell if it was the sudden openness of his invitation or the quiet sincerity in his voice that made it feel so real. It wasn’t just a passing comment; it was an open door between us.
“I’d like that,” I said softly, surprised by how easily the words came out.
He smiled, his expression softening. “Good.” He reached up, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch lingering as his eyes locked onto mine.
I wanted to say more — something that could make this moment last longer, something to ease the ache already starting to form in my chest. But the words didn’t come, and instead, we stood there, wrapped in silence, our connection hanging between us like an unspoken promise.
He gave me one lingering kiss, brief but filled with everything we couldn’t put into words. When we finally pulled away, he looked at me, as if taking one final mental picture of me standing there, before speaking. “I’ll call you.”
I nodded, feeling the flutter of anticipation start to rise inside me. “You better.”
He squeezed my hand gently before opening my car door and slyly rolling down the window, watching me climb inside and closing the door for me. He leaned on the door, softly smiling, “To be continued.”
I couldn’t help but smile and give him one final kiss through the open window so I could savor his taste before starting up the car. He stepped back, hands in his pockets, to give me enough room to back out of the parking space. I slowly reversed out, waving my hand at him and driving out into the street.
The quiet hum of the engine filled the space, but the silence didn’t feel empty. There was something between us, something that went beyond just a weekend. It was more than I’d expected, more than I’d thought I was ready for, but as I drove away, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the end.
I don’t think I even left the neighborhood before a phone call interrupted my thoughts. My car’s entertainment screen lit up with the contact name in big, bold letters — Room 5.
I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head as I tapped the answer button on the steering wheel. “Hey,” I teased, my voice light and playful, though my chest felt warm at the sight of his contact name lighting up my screen.
“Hey,” Nicholas’s voice came through, smooth and familiar.
It was just the beginning.
#Nicholas Alexander Chavez#Nicholas Alexander Chavez x reader#Nicholas Alexander chavez imagine#Nicholas Alexander chavez fic#Nicholas Alexander chavez x fem!reader#Nicholas chavez#Nicholas chavez x reader#Nicholas chavez x fem!reader#father Charlie mayhew#father Charlie mayhem x reader#fanfic#x reader#Nicholas chavez rpf#nicholas alexander chavez rpf#fic-o-meter
106 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝖫𝗂𝖺𝗋, 𝖫𝗂𝖺𝗋 𝗉𝗍. 2
Pairing- Yandere Rintaro Suna x Reader
Masterlist . . . Part one
"For what it’s worth, princess, if the devil is real. It’s me.”
Contains- Serial Killer! Suna, oral (f receiving), dubcon, semi-public fingering, groping, choking, biting, manhandling, riding overstimulation, marathon sex, mentions of necrophilia/noncon, implied somnophila, baby trapping(?) A/N- sorry for the long wait guys, writer's block can be a bitch
Sleeping with him was the biggest mistake of your life-
No. letting him ‘help’ you was the biggest mistake of your life.
Ever since you two had sex, he’s been sleeping in the same bed as you. You did attempt to persuade him to sleep on the couch once again but he simply responded with
‘We both saw what happens when I sleep on the couch, sweetheart. Besides, sharing the same bed might bring back some of those ‘dear’ memories you lost.” As you predicted, it would be challenging to sneak out of your room at night, especially when Suna’s arm is wrapped around your waist, his chin tucked on your shoulder, and his stern back against your chest.
You thought about lying to him, telling him you’re getting up from bed to use the bathroom but really you’re planning to find his car keys and drive away from this nightmare. But what if you take too long and he gets suspicious? Last time you got lucky when he misunderstood your attempt to steal his car keys.
You hate that you spent the entire week with him, pretending to be in a loving marriage, kissing him sweetly, and sometimes bathing with him. But he hasn’t fucked you since the first time- well with his dick at least.
If he thinks you look too cute in a nightgown- which you always do, he’ll push you down on the bed, scrunching up your silky slip-on onto your breast and shamelessly make out with your cunt, fingers holding your thighs down and apart to keep you from squirming away. He never fails to give you an intense orgasm. You're so addicted to his touch that you don’t know how you’ll be able to cum again once you escape from him...While on the topic of escaping, you’re finding the idea of freedom too difficult to obtain by yourself. You’re gonna need help.
“ So- I remember you mentioned before that we were still friends with twins from high school” You blurted out while having dinner with your ‘fiancé.’
“ Yeah, Osamu and Atsumu. What about them?” Suna asked nonchalantly. “Well, I think you should invite them over. I think it’d be good for me to meet someone from my past” you suggested.
“ It’d be hard to contact them because the service in this place is horrible” Suna claimed, leaning back in his chair. You let out an instant “oh” with a noticeable pout on your lips.
Then you heard Suna sigh, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Okay. There is this part of the house where the service is somewhat usable. But it’s on the roof so I don’t want you following me there. Your body is still sore which makes it difficult for you to stay up there without falling” Suna pointed out.
He’s right. You’ll probably hurt yourself if you try going on that roof. So the idea of stealing his phone to call for help isn’t possible.
“You have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you, Rin” You complimented. “ Yeah well, I gotta keep my wife happy” Suna got up and kissed your forehead before retreating upstairs.
You waited impatiently for Suna to come back down. A sick part of you wishes that he’d accidentally slip off the roof, breaking his neck because then you’d be freed from this nightmare. But he only takes twenty minutes to come back down, placing his phone back into his pocket as he walks towards you.
“So? Did they say yes?” you questioned. “They said they would love to stop by. But I had to make Atsumu promise he wouldn’t bring another hookup over. I better start cooking dinner because those two guys know how to eat- especially Osamu” Suna replied, giving you an endearing pat on the head as he went to prepare for their arrival.
--
You hadn’t seen any pictures of the twins prior before they arrived, so it was quite intimidating when two muscular tall men stood at your doorstep. The dark-haired one holding a classic bottle of wine. While Atsumu opened his arms to you, giving you an unwelcomed hug.
“There is our Y/n. It’s been too long since we saw ya” The bold twin one cooed, his arms around you tightened.
“You’re one foot in and already flirtin’ with my fiance- don’t you have any shame, Atsumu?” Suna replied, subtly informing you of the difference between the twins.
So if the blonde, somewhat pervy, twin was Atsumu. The other one must be Osamu.
“I ain’t flirting. I was just being friendly to a friend who’s gotten into a terrible- just terrible accident “ Atsumu pouted.
“I decided to tell them your situation. I hope you don’t mind” Suna commented, smiling innocently.
It’s unsettling.
They’re completely lying to you- you’re not friends with them. How are they so eerily confident then? How can these two lie straight to your face and pretend that you’re Suna's fiancé?
Because you’re not. You’re not his fiancé.
Right?
Dinner with them made you even more confused. They’re doing the same thing that Suna did. Reciting old stories about your so-called past together. It’s getting more difficult to distinguish what’s the truth or not. Yet Atsumu’s words manage to slip you back into reality.
“You should really be thanking me. If I set you two up in college- y’all would not be getting married.. at least Suna wouldn’t be” Atsumu teased.
“I thought we started dating in high school?” You spoke up, pointing out Atsumu’s mistake. Rather than Atsumu getting embarrassed for making such an innocent mistake.
Atsumu got nervous.
If you weren’t already so superstitious during dinner, you wouldn’t have noticed how he blinked away, how forced his laughter sounded, and how his brother deadly glared at him.
“Would you pardon us? I think I have to remind Atsumu about some manners” Osamu asked, seeming all friendly while his jawline clenched, a fist under the table.
Suna clicked him, glancing at a nervous Atsumu and then back at Osamu.” Go ahead,” Suna replied.
You were left alone with him once again.
You and you’re fiancé-no he’s not your fiancé. You and your demon.
“You’re lookin’ a bit nervous, sweetheart. Are you feeling okay? Just say the word and I can get these idiots to leave any time” Suna suggested. “No- they don’t need to leave. I just need to go to the bathroom to freshen up. That’s all” Your laughter sounded a bit too forced, sweaty palms pushing you up out of your seat. “Don’t take too long” Suna mumbled, watching you march quickly out of the dining room.
This is your chance.
You can ask- no- you're going to beg the twins to help you because surely, they wouldn’t want to risk being an accomplice for a serial killer.
You followed their distant voices, words too unintelligible to understand. Eventually, you ended up in front of the door connecting the garage to the summer house. Luckily, they left the door slightly ajar, allowing you to hear their conversation clearly.
You were about to walk in before you heard Osamu say
“Are you a fuckin’ idiot, Tsumu? At this point, Suna not gonna let either of us have a turn with her” Osamu argued with his brother.
“Shut up- shut up. I’m a fuckin’ volleyball player not an actor” Atsumu huffed. “Yeah and I own a restaurant but I know how to keep my story straight,” Osamu remarked.
“I don’t even know why Suna cares s’much about keeping up this whole game” Atsumu commented.
“he’s just gonna kill her like the rest.”
Your heart is racing because your last hope of escaping this n nightmare just revealed they could care less about your life- fuck they could be worse than Suna. Instinctually, you step away from the door, wanting to be as far away from them as possible. But that’s when you feel a stern chest against your back, stopping you from backing away. You slowly turn your head and notice Suna behind you, his eyes glued on the view of the twins arguing about whether they’ll still get a ‘turn’ with you after Atsumu’s mishap.
“Rin-“
“Quiet. It’s always amusing to watch the twins argue, right? “ Suna replied, his hand tilting your face to watch the twins, his chin resting on top of your head, forcing you to watch the truth unfold.
“You know he does sadistic shit like this all the time. Just try to have fun with her while she’s still alive” Osamu huffed.
“I didn’t come here to play an actor. I just wanna fuck her before Suna finally cuts her up or whatever sadistic shit he plans to do with her” Atsumu groaned.
“ Yeah, well, there's no way in hell he’s gonna let you have a turn with her if you don’t play along correctly. You’d be lucky if he even lets you fuck her corpse”
Atsumu hummed, his once annoyed attitude slowly disappearing as he looked lost in thought- until he made the comment
“I wouldn’t mind that at all actually.”
You want to stop listening but Suna won’t let you. “Please, just let me go and I won’t- I won’t tell anyone” you muttered, voice cracking. Suna laid his forehead on your shoulder, you could feel his smile on his skin.
“What about our wedding?” he cooed, voice teasing, his hands wrapping around your waist, tips of his fingers sliding under your waistband.
“Rintarou, please- I-I don’t want to die. I’ll do anything just don’t hurt me” you begged.
“I don’t like when you call me by my first name, it makes me feel like I’m in trouble” Suna commented, a soft pout on his lips. This time his hands are traveling further down the inside of your pants until his fingers are tracing over your covered slit. You wish you could fight his touch but you’re too scared to upset him.
“Rin, I don’t wanna pretend anymore. I just wanna go home” You’re starting to cry and he doesn’t need to look at your face to know that tears are pouring out of your eyes.
You act like you’re strong but the second you’re faced with a challenge, you crack like glass. So easy to read. Maybe that’s why he likes you so much.
“You wanna go home? Go ahead and ask the twins for help. But I don’t if they’ll be that compliant” Suna suggested. He’s right. He’s always right.
“I like you. I don’t think I’ve ever been so infatuated with a person like this before. So I’ll give you two choices. You could either go beg the twins to take you away from this ‘hell house’ or
you can become my pretty wife”
You don't want any of that. You want to run far far away. But he’ll catch you like he did the first time and then he might actually kill you.
“So, what will it be, princess?” He repeats, forcing you to break from your silence. That nickname, it always appears when his true colors are shown. You're starting to hate that word because now you associate it with danger.
“How do I know you won’t kill me,” you ask, in the quietest voice, afraid of his answer. He chuckles at your question, raises his head from your shoulder, and smiles.
“Because I'll never get bored of you.”
That’s all it takes. You nod your head, not wanting to hear yourself agree to stay. To be his, forever.
He leans over, lips almost touching yours, narrow eyes with an unwearying stare forcing you to look at him.
“You know how to keep quiet, don’t you Mrs. Suna?”
That’s when his wandering fingers finally slip beneath your panties and you’re reminded that Osamu and Atsumu are right behind the door in front of you. “Rin, not here” you begged, squirming to get out of his grip, only for him to hold you tighter.
“Why not? Atsumu would probably wanna hear, that fuckin’ freak” Suna laughed. Just as you were about to utter an argument, you’re cut short by the painfully slow pumping of Suna’s fingers, thrusting into your cunt. You feel weak.
Instead of telling him to stop, your words cut into a breathy moan and Suna is forced to lean over to your ear.
“ Careful, princess. You don’t want them to hear you.” He whispered a reminder, tongue poking out of his mouth to lick a stripe down your neck, causing you only to tighten around his long thrusting fingers.
“ Try to argue with me but I can feel how wet you are. Maybe you’re the crazy one huh? Or maybe it’s both of us. Guess we're soulmates then” he’s talking more than he usually does. Maybe because he knows you're scared to get caught.
Or maybe he’s drunk on the success of your agreement to your engagement. Doesn’t matter because he’s only getting more confident, pulling down the neckline of your shirt as long as your bra with his other hand, groping the soft skin of your breast all while his thumb is massaging your clit.
Fuck- you’re so close and he’s so fucking hard, forced to grind his painful erection against your back.
You feel pathetic when you're uncontrollably humping his ruthless fingers, chasing your high.
When you hear him chuckle from behind you, most likely realizing your movement- he has no right to sound so fucking sexy.
“Can’t believe you were begging me to stop, aren’t you just the prettiest liar.” He mumbles.
And you’re finishing on his fingers, legs shaking, eyes tearing up, your hands covering your mouth muffling uncontrollable moans.
Suna slowly pulls his hands out of your pants, bringing his drenched fingers into your mouth, disgustedly making you clean his fingers, tasting yourself.
He spins you towards him, leaning over to wipe off your smeared make up, fixing your appearance for you because you are all too stunned by what has just occurred.
Just on time, Atsumu and Osamu are opening the door, both surprised to see you.
“ Holy fuck- how long were you two standing there" Atsumu called out. You both turn around to look at them, Suna wrapping one arm around your shoulder, pulling you to his side.
“We just walked in actually” Suna lied for your sake.
“ Well…Wow! look at the time- “ Atsumu said, checking his watch, pretending to read the time. “It’s getting late, ain’t it? I’m a bit too tired to drive…guess me and Osamu gotta stay over the night” Atsumu whistled.
Holy fuck- Atsumu and Osamu still think they have a chance with you.
You’re beginning to tremble at Suna’s side, fully not trusting him to protect you.
“I’ll call you two an uber,” Suna says blankly.
You could see Atsumu grit his teeth, not knowing why he wasn’t getting rewarded for his ‘efforts.’
“Well- can we at least visit tomorrow” Osamu questioned, trying to hint if they’ll at least have a chance to fuck your dead corpse.
Sick mother fuckers. Just like Suna- maybe even worse.
“Next time we’ll see you is at our wedding” Suna smiled passively aggressively, knowing he just pissed off the twins.
Atsumu is about to open his mouth, most likely attending to spoil the truth because Suna ruined all of his ‘fun.’ But Osamu stops him by gripping the back of Atsumu’s shirt.
“ No need to argue with an old friend. We’ll leave… just call us next time when we’re allowed to come over” Osamu sighed.
Then they proceed to leave. Not without Atsumu forcing you into a hug, his hand dangerous lying on your lower back, a final act of perversion. They leave and you’re left alone with Suna and his narrow eyes are locked on yours.
“Could fuck you here or on the bed. Pick one”
There is no option to deny him. He is going to be your husband after all.
“Bed.”
He’s not even letting you walk there, probably thinking you’ll move too slowly for his liking. So he's picking you up effortlessly because of his muscular arms, delivering you to the bedroom before and tossing you onto the mattress. He’s on top of you in a heartbeat, his hands tugging off your clothes, not caring if you’re telling him to slow down because they’ll rip.
He’ll buy you a new one- fuck he’ll buy you anything you’d want as long as he gets to fuck that tight pussy of yours.
Your heart is slipping at the sound of his belt unbuckling, too nervous to look at the sight of him sliding down any of the clothes covering his hard cock.
“Fuckin’ you raw, yeah? Doesn’t matter anymore since we’ll be married soon” Suna clicks his tongue, holding his heavy cock in his hands, pressing his leaking tip against your hole.
You shake your head frantically, “Don’t please Rin- don’t do that to me” you shuttered.
“ What? Ya afraid you’ll conceive the devil’s reincarnation? For what it’s worth, princess, if the devil is real.
It’s me.”
Without another argument he’s forcing himself into your shameless cunt causing a gasp to slip out of your mouth, not waiting for you to adjust until he’s fucking you into the bed. You’re holding onto everything but him. And he doesn’t like this- it’s not wife behavior is it?
So he leans over and painfully bites into your collarbone, “ hurt me back.” He commands.
And you give him exactly what he wants, slipping your hands under his shirt, digging your nails into his toned back, causing him to only get fuck you harder like it a competition on who can break the quickest.
You’re not holding back your moans- thankful for the lack of people near you, only giving Suna the privilege of hearing them.
Once you orgasm for the second time that night, he’s switching positions and forcing you to take him on his lap, his back resting on the bed frame.
You know what he wants you to do but you’re already so tired, you drowsily shake your head, hoping he’ll stop, and let finally you sleep.
Except all you do is annoy him, hissing under his breath as his hands grip your hips, forcing you to bounce on his cock, overstimulating your insides.
“ Slow down, Rin-“ you asked, knowing he won’t let you stop but at least the idea of slowing down seems possible.
“You wanna go slow, princess? Then you gotta do it yourself” he commented. You hesitate before nodding your head, thinking it’s a better option than letting him fuck you relentlessly.
His hands go behind his head while yours leans over on his thigh, slowly pushing yourself up, sucking in your breath and you sink back down.
Suna whistled at the sight of you fucking yourself on his cock, acting like the perfect wife.
He’s moving the hair out of your face before wrapping his hands around your neck, freaking you out as he lightly squeezes the sides of your neck. The action is causing you to stop your movement.
“Did I tell you to stop?” He asked, tightening the grip around your neck, making it harder to breathe, a growing light-headed.
Your hands are shaking as you’re lifting yourself up and down on his cock. It’s humiliating, knowing you’re getting off because of him- how easily he has control of your body
“Say you’ll stay” he pants, chest heaving, feeling your cunt squeezing on his cock because of his husky voice.
“ Say you’ll stay forever. Can’t ever leave my side, princess. Dont think I can live without this pussy” he asks, face flushed.
“ I’ll stay—Rin” you managed to croak out with the tightness around your neck.
That’s all he needs until he’s leaning over to your torso, hands moving to grip your waist, forcing you to stay still on his cock, cumming deep into your pussy.
You think that’ll be it for tonight until he’s pulling back and kissing you, tongue slipping into your mouth, hands moving to grope your breast again until he’s hard once more.
He’s manhandling you until you’re on your hands and knees. He's behind you, watching your legs shake as he guides his cock back into your stuffed pussy, fucking his leaking cum back into you.
You’re screaming from overstimulation, tears soaking the bed sheet under your eyes, hands gripping onto the bed sheet. You feel like you’re being crushed when he presses his chest against your back, his arms wrapped around your lower stomach, cock bullying your insides.
He’s never this energetic.
And you’re also never this honest, finally admitting to knowing the truth behind this charade. But you tell him you’ll stay isn’t something he believes in.
“ Bet you’re thinking about leavin’ when I’m asleep, yeah?” He huffed against the nape of your neck.
“You’d probably find a way to kill me first though. You’re not dumb enough to think I won’t find you” he uttered, talking to you as if he’s not fucking you into oblivion.
“ Doesn’t matter if m’dead or not. I’ll always be with you- every second til the day you fuckin' die, you'll be thinking about me. dreaming about me. haunted by me. So don’t you dare test me. Just be good and I’ll be good back. I fuck you good as well” he adds, his finger rubbing your swollen clit while his hips are forcing you to the edge, squeezing his cock so hard he can’t pull out to cum- not like he was going to do in the first place.
Suna lifts himself and rolls you to the side, admiring your fucked out expression, how you’re staring at the ceiling, chest heaving as you recover from your intense orgasm.
“ Maybe if fuck a baby into you. You wouldn't be able to leave,”Suna commented, the lack of playfulness in his tone suggested to you that he was actually serious about the idea of knocking you up.
“ I'm not - I not planning on leaving— I won’t do it, Rin. I’m telling the truth” you babbled, crying at the idea of going another round, hands frantically wiping down tears that felt never-ending.
Suna chuckles because for once, he believes you. He leans over and kisses your cheek sweetly.
“I’ll be nice and give you a morning-after pill I got laying around somewhere afterward, yeah? I’ll take care of you, but you gotta take care of me,” he cooed.
You are too cute. So much more innocent than Suna is- never committing the horrendous crimes he’s done. And he thinks you begging him to spare you from sex is so much more exciting than you begging him for your life.
But to you- it feels like you’re begging for the same thing. You’ll die if he fucks you again- that your body is too overstimulated and exhausted.
That doesn’t stop him- nothing will really, from getting hard, thrusting into you again. You don’t know when he stopped fucking you- was it after you passed out the third time? Or did he continue ever after that? When it’s over, you’re half awake, back leaning on his chest, his hand ushering you to take the suggested birth control in his hand. Then slowly tilt the glass of water down your mouth. While you manage to drink the refreshing liquid, you get a glance of the mess between your spread legs, cum shameless dripping out and you wish you never met him.
You’re awake and you don’t feel physically dirty, the evidence of cum wiped off your legs by Suna while you were sleeping.
If he hadn’t marked your body with his teeth and hands, you’d almost pretend last night was nonexistent. Plus the aroma coming from him cooking from the kitchen downstairs only ruins the fantasy even more.
Maybe you’ll run away one day and get away with it. But you can’t say you could ever truly escape, Suna.
Because that would just make you a liar.
taglist @fynn1issshh @kodsuken
#yandere x reader#yandere haikyuu x reader#yandere haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu!!#suna rintaro x reader#suna rintarō#suna x reader#yandere smut#yandere suna#suna smut#yandere suna rintaro#yandere suna x reader#suna rintarou
128 notes
·
View notes
Text
artist!reader and skater!suna who you first meet in college one morning when you’re running late for class, carrying a comedically large portfolio across the campus square. your head is buried deep in your phone, checking for last-minute updates on the class. that’s when an abrupt gust of wind shoots across your face and forces your head up instantly, only to see a skater soaring past with hardly an inch of space between you.
“what the hell, watch it!” you yell, immediately stepping backward and using both hands to grasp your portfolio tightly.
the skater remains undisrupted, gazing forward and only casually waving a hand back to call, “my bad!”
artist!reader with skater!suna who you see again, a week after almost knocking you over. coincidentally enough, he's sat at the exit steps to the art building, tying his shoelaces with his skateboard next to him.
"fucking prick." you walk straight past, muttering under your breath.
he must have heard you because, within seconds, he's walking by your side. "no way! you're the girl from last week. don't tell me you're still mad about the other morning! it was an accident." he throws his hands up in disbelief.
you ignore him and continue walking.
artist!reader with skater!suna who is determined to befriend you after your brief interaction. he waits at the same steps of the art building until your classes finish, skating up to you when he spots your familiar figure. he attempts to strike up a conversation by commenting on how "serious" you always look, and it's then that you bite back with a witty retort and he grins.
"took you long enough to talk to me."
artist!reader and skater!suna who both hang out at the skatepark together one afternoon. you're practicing your motion sketches, discreetly observing suna skate and using him as a reference for your drawings.
suna walks over to you, leaning on his board. “whatcha drawing, picasso?”
“you,” you say without looking up. his heart skips and he can feel his face grow warm.
“oh yeah?” he peers over your shoulder. “do i look cool?”
“you’d look cooler if you didn’t wipe out every five minutes,” you deadpan, flipping to another page.
“alright, picasso,” he says, with a roll of his eyes. “let’s see you try then.”
and that’s how you find yourself on top of suna’s skateboard, gripping his shoulders for dear life.
“relax, you’ll be fine,” he says, holding your hands to steady you.
“easy for you to say,” you grumble, eyes wide as he starts to slowly push the board.
you don’t even make it five feet before you’re losing your balance and falling. suna doubles over laughing, pulling out his phone with a sinister grin. “hold still, i need a picture of this for the archives.”
“don’t you dare,” you warn, scrambling to your feet. but it’s too late—he’s already posting it on his story with the caption: skating > art
artist!reader who gives skater!suna the nickname deckhead, after a particularly grueling painting session.
“can you please just focus for once?” standing up from your desk and tossing your paintbrush aside, you continue angrily. “i’m trying to get this done, and you’re just—”
“distracting?” suna interrupts, raising an eyebrow. “you’re the one acting like the world’s ending because you can’t paint a perfect line.”
there’s a sharp jab of irritation. "it’s not just about the line! i’ve been working nonstop on this, and all you’re doing is—"
he cuts you off again, this time with a half-smile. “i know, i’m sorry.”
you close your eyes to take a deep breath, trying to keep calm. but the words slip out before you can stop them. “god, you’re such a dickhead.”
the moment it slips past your lips, you feel the tension rise in the room. it’s silent but as if the universe had a sense of humor, you glare at his skateboard propped against the wall.
“no.” you scoff, shaking your head, your frustration turning into something more mocking. “you’re not even a real dickhead, you’re just a… deckhead.”
suna blinks, frozen for a second. “deckhead?”
you cross your arms, mouth curling into a sinister grin. “yeah, a deckhead—wandering around with that stupid board like it’s your whole personality. you just can’t be serious about anything!”
a beat.
and then he laughs. suna laughs. he laughs so hard that tears are forming in the corners of his eyes. he laughs so hard that you begin laughing too.
suna sighs slowly, dropping his gaze to meet yours. “i didn’t realize you were genuinely getting upset. i promise i didn’t mean to make you feel worse.”
you let your head rest against your desk. “i know. i’m just frustrated because i’ve been at this for hours and it feels like i’m getting nowhere.”
there’s a long pause before suna steps closer. “i’ll stop being a deckhead.”
he grins and ruffles your hair. “... but only because i care.”
artist!reader who invites an incredibly eager skater!suna to one of your artsy gallery showcases. he surprises you by showing up in an actual button-down instead of his usual baggy jeans and shirts, bringing along his skater friends who also happen to be equally fond of you. upon seeing your work, they all begin hyping you up loudly, drawing eyes from surrounding exhibitions and sticking out like sore thumbs.
at one point suna leans in and whispers, "i'm pretty sure that guy over there is trying to steal your vibe."
confused, you turn to see a very serious art critic examining your painting and it takes all your effort to not burst out laughing.
skater!suna who shows up unannounced at artist!reader's studio with a blank skate deck and a set of paint markers.
"what's going on?" you'd just woken up from a nap and suna thought you looked absolutely adorable.
"empty canvas," he breathlessly replies, distracted by his newfound urge to just shrink you and keep you in his pocket. "i thought you could make it cooler."
and he’s right because you do.
“dude, where’d you get that?” atsumu asks, pointing at the board the next time suna is at the skatepark.
“custom-made by that genius over there,” and suna proudly nods towards you, sat on the concrete of the park and deeply concentrated on a sketch.
artist!reader and skater!suna begin dating not through a grand confession, but just a subtle shift.
it happens when suna walks you to your class, a daily ritual that you've both become accustomed to, so it's almost instinctual the way he leans down and leaves a soft kiss on your cheek. you both pause, realizing what just happened, but instead of freaking out, you're clutching onto one another from outside your classroom laughing.
from then on, there's no formal conversation about it--just a mutual understanding.
skater!suna who asks artist!reader to paint his nails black for him because he saw someone at the skate park with painted nails and thought they looked cool. you nod excitedly and oblige. by the end, suna’s nails are decorated perfectly in black, except for his ring finger which you sneakily managed to paint pink.
when he notices, he glares at you, “really?”
“you wear it well,” you shrug in response.
artist!reader who stumbles across a notebook in skater!suna’s backpack when he asks you to grab his phone for him. you’re curious and can’t help but flip through it to find… doodles?
you bring it back for him, his phone long forgotten. “are these supposed to be me?”
“woah, what the fuck! where’d you find this?!” suna snatches the notebook, immediately shutting it closed before offering you a sheepish grin. “art is hard, okay? not all of us are picasso reincarnated.”
you’re flattered he’s been doodling you in his spare time.
skater!suna who gets oddly competitive when other skaters are present at the skate park while you’re there. he pulls off more tricks than usual (which is already a lot because he’s always trying to impress you), but looks for your approval after every single one.
he may have gotten a little too carried away because the next second he’s slipping from his board and now he’s landed flat on his back. he groans, embarrassed while you laugh. he watches you from the ground and wonders if he should make a fool of himself more often just to hear you laugh. he doesn’t let this show and instead rolls his eyes, getting up from the ground.
“glad you’re entertained, y/n.”
skater!suna who loves to blast his music when practicing tricks vs. artist!reader who needs the quiet to focus.
“riiiiin! can you turn it down, please? i’m trying to concentrate.” you yell at him.
“i’m literally landing this trick for you.” he replies teasingly, turning the music up even louder.
you end up compromising with a pair of suna’s noise-cancelling headphones and he begrudgingly lowers the volume—slightly.
KVROOMI © 2024, DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.
#haikyuu#haikyuu masterlist#fanfiction#haikyu#suna x reader#suna fanfic#suna fluff#suna rintaro x reader#suna rintaro haikyuu#suna rintarou#suna rintaro#suna imagines#inarizaki
90 notes
·
View notes
Text
loss of my life ( k. bakugo x reader, anxiety, depression, mourning, stages of grief, character death mentioned, some self deprecation OR your boyfriend laments the loss of his life and struggles through the reality of being the one left alive ) ( and what if i was feeling sad ) ( i’m actually so sorry omg xx ) ( play loml by taylor swift if u want this to hit extra hard </3 )
The sky was crying.
Katsuki Bakugo disliked nothing more than the rain, the whole concept of it made him feel extremely weak— useless. Not only did the heavy downpour make it harder for him to produce sweat and therefore harder to use his quirk, but being drenched made everything much slower and heavier, so cold and lifeless. He never understood what you liked about it so much.
Not until he was sitting on a bench, tears and rainwater blurring his vision, the two liquids blending together and making it hard to distinguish whether he was crying. He tilted his head back, letting the water pelt against his skin as he finally released his breath.
For a moment… it almost felt like the clouds were doing all the hard work for him, he didn’t even have to cry. A sudden crackle of thunder snapped against the sky, screaming so he didn’t have to, angry for him over life’s injustice.
He didn’t understand it. And then he did.
He could understand why you’d sit at the window for hours, staring out at the rain with a serene look in your eyes, your whole body at ease.
The text cursor blinked up at him mockingly as he remained frozen, looking at his phone, your contact pulled up. It was still favorited on his phone. He hit call after a few seconds, letting the other phone in his hands (one he paid for solely so he could keep doing this) go on and on, the special ringtone you’d picked out specifically so you’d know it was him calling played out. Over the speaker he heard it… your voice.
“Hey! It’s Y/N, I’m off saving the world right now so leave it at the beep and I’ll call back… or not ‘cause I hate phone calls… unless you’re my boyfriend… I’ll text ya! Okay bu— beeeeep.”
The recording cut off before you could fully say bye in that signature cute way that was simply so you, it was more of a buh-bye, with you dragging out the final vowel. If anyone else had said it that way he would’ve found it annoying, told them to speak normal. With you… well, he thought anything that you did endearing.
He wished he’d been strong enough to save you.
His finger twitched, and before he knew it his whole hand was shaking. He stared helplessly at it while his heart went haywire inside his chest.
Dying… he was definitely dying. He was dying and he would get to see you again—
“Kacchan?”
It was overwhelming. The tightening in his chest, the sense of nostalgia washing over him, the longing he felt for someone whose blood had run cold months ago.
A familiar voice broke him out of his reverie, Katsuki looked up to meet green eyes.
How he wished they were yours… he’d often get lost in the world behind your eyes, picturing where life would lead the both of you, together.
“What are you doing out here? You hate the rain.”
He was crying.
It was obvious to his childhood friend, even with the rain trying to disguise it. Izuku Midoriya knew him like the back of his hand, and he knew how much he was hurting with your loss.
“I know you don’t feel like celebrating right now, why don’t we go back inside?” Deku continued,“I’ll walk you to your room.”
He’d rather be in yours… a room now empty, it used to be filled with all your things— books, knickknacks, posters on the walls, photos you’d force him to take that he secretly loved being in because it meant you felt he was worth remembering for years to come… he used to love spending time in your dorm if not only for your scent, being enveloped in it made him feel warmer than he’d ever known before…
“She’s gone.” He finally spoke.
You really were gone. You weren’t coming back. You wouldn’t appear once more someday, jumping up from behind him to yell “sike” and laugh off just how good you’d gotten him. You’d never hold his arm again, or force your freezing cold hands under his shirt. Never text him from across the classroom how much you missed him despite having spent the whole morning in his room, getting ready and taking over his whole bed with your makeup. You wouldn’t whine about making the wrong shoe choice for the day and wait for him to begrudgingly let you jump on his back for him to carry you back to the dorms. He’d never hear your annoying laugh again, or stare at the little mole you had under your left eye. The days of flushing in embarrassment when you forced a bit of pda on him in the hallway before class were gone, and so were your secret moments behind closed doors. There was no more holding back, he was crying again.
He wouldn’t see you again.
Izuku gulped, frowning deeply,“I’m so sorry, Kacchan…”
He looked up, eyes somber.
You were the loss of Katsuki Bakugo’s life.
#i’m so sorry#play loml by taylor swift#bnha#boku no hero academia#mha#my hero academia#bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugo#bakugo katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugo katsuki smau#katsuki bakugo smau#mha smau#my hero academia smau#ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ#vanishingstarrs
75 notes
·
View notes
Text
"Is that a complaint I hear?" The playful gleam in her eyes in plain view as she looked at him. "And, here I thought you liked it when I don't behave." Her laugh rung out from her chest, no disagreeing there. Babygirl was indeed their proof. “She’s going to have so much family, she won’t even know where to start. Plus, her first cousin too. Imagine if they're also best friends." Like her and Juju. Hopeful, maybe. "Well, considering the badge is collecting dust somewhere on my desk, we'd be out of luck. So, no sexy rebel for you."
His question made her head turn quickly to look at him. Had she not mentioned that earlier? And, just like that, she was caressing the side of his face, her fingertips brushing against the scruff. "One hundred percent, two hundred percent even. Way too sexy, honestly it's a shock that you leave the house looking like this." Because, truly, Laurel surprised herself for letting him go each day. "With those bright eyes," her fingertips brushing his brow ridge. "Hm, and this scruff you have going. Your soft smile too. That's been sexy from day one." Laurel knew how much he liked details, and eagerly, she provided. She only nodded in response, feeling more confident in this situation's eventual resolution. It was a given that Isaac had a lot on his plate with his ex looming and Nettie's safety being compromised. That's also why she knew that pushing him now about something that happened some time ago probably wouldn't garner the best reaction. But, Eli and Isaac had been through a lot together, that much she knew. Laurel listened to the full name, how easily it flowed from his lips. Rosaline Phillips Thorn. It sounded beautiful, it fit perfectly. "It does...yes, I agree. I love it." If she wasn't so comfortable here, she could've jumped in the air with excitement. "And, she keeps her Rosebud nickname? Double bonus. Only took us this many months," she teased, knowing they had exhausted every other name book. Laurel laughed completely amused as the sight was drawn in her mind. Eli arm wrestling Juju for it, because no way she was giving up that name. "Right? It would go with our names too. Hm, you arm wrestle Juju, and I'll take Aaron," words said in between laughs, how silly it sounded.
"True, it's okay. I'm not in a rush to tell them. I like that it's just between us." Much like their promise to be life partners, before marriage even came to mind. "I'm sure the time will come up. You're giving me the convincing job? Oh, tough one." Though, perhaps less impossible. Emma had asked a few questions about how they like living here, though she hadn't mentioned to him yet. "Rosebud might be the extra push they need to move, especially now that Isaac is also settling into Texas more permanently. I think you guys would love to have them closer to home. Yes, let's bring it up casually and see what they think."
Her eyes might've been sparkling thinking of the soft tiramisu from that restaurant. But, she was definitely getting sidetracked, so Laurel shook her head and brought her attention back to him. Though, another opportunity for distraction presented itself. Words failed her as he licked the cinnamon sugar from his lips, that wasn't fair. "Huh? Oh, yes the phone number." She took his phone, and her smile instantly widened. His background, their picture from the pier. Seemed like forever ago. Quickly unlocking his phone, she smiled triumphantly. "Yup, you have the number right here. Okay, I'll give them a call. Do you think eight o'clock is okay?"
Laurel glanced down to the small piece of churro, "yeah I think I'm done." His yawn did not go unnoticed, leaning against his head slightly. "It's been a long day babe, makes sense. I'm glad too, because you need to rest. Maybe an early night for us, after dinner? I'm sure Emma has tons of plans already for tomorrow, so we'll need the extra sleep."
With that, she pressed the dial button and brought his phone to her ear to make the dinner reservation for five. Requesting a table outdoors, enjoying the Texas warmth while they still had it. "Okay, we're all confirmed. Should we go see what your siblings are up to?"
"When?" Eli asked on the verge of a laughing fit. "Have you ever behaved? Pretty sure baby girl there is proof neither of us can behave." True in their nature there were more moments where they misbehaved than actually behaved and that made him laugh. "One thing is for sure she won't be alone." Whether that was because of found cousins or not their daughter was not going to know what it was like not to feel loved. "The badge? Oh you're a sexy rebel. Let's keep your record untouched. Don't want our kid to judge you."
And I love you would never get old. He would always love hearing it come from her. The way she loved him even down to the fragments made him feel lucky that she had stuck around for the ups and downs. "Has it made me sexier though," he asked, a playful smile gracing his lips. "Thanks for the vote of confidence baby." He'd forgive Issac he knew it. Laurel knew it and deep down even Issac knew it. Their bond was just too strong to be broken by a deep misunderstanding. The guy saw past the nerdy comic book era and still welcomed him into his space. That would never not count for something. Rosaline made his head turn to her and a soft smile flashed across his features. "Rosaline Phillips Thorn." He liked the name and how well it flowed. A wide grin overtook him as he laughed. "I think that's it. That's her name. Nickname we can keep as Rosebud. But oh my god we did it. She's not nameless anymore." He made a zipped lip gesture and nodded as he waited for her to drop the name and once he heard it he smiled. "Aurora. Well hot damn I like that one too. Do you think we can arm wrestle her for it?" Eli teased knowing full well he was wise not to fuck with juju.
"Things keep getting in the way , but it also wouldn't be us if our good news didn't keep being sidelined one way or another. We'll tell them before they leave. Maybe you can convince them to stay and move." Wishful thinking on his part but also not impossible. With a niece on the way, Inez and Emma would have an excuse to not be so far away. "I do think so. Isa would have his entire family in one place and he wouldn't have to travel back and forth. I'd love them to be closer. Maybe we can float the idea at dinner with them?"
He tried to hide his smile as she got sidetracked with the tiramisu, a regular occurrence the last few months. His sleeve covered his knowing smile as he took a bite of his churro and licked the cinnamon off his lips. "I may have the number on my phone," he made his voice level as he passed her his phone for her to look at. The screen lighting up and showing off a silly picture of themselves at the pier. He had promised he'd change it but he still hadn't gotten around to it. The pass code he knew she knew as it combined all their favorite numbers.
"Are you done with this piece?" he asked as he chewed his own and covered a yawn. "Who would have thought this outing would make me sleepy. Glad I have the day off tomorrow. I don't think I have the energy to be work me walking around at the station."
#this was so so beautiful...their fluff is everything to me#they took their time but it was worth it!! 😂😂#lally cloud means the world to me
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
Finally making a gifset I've been planning since my waitressing days. 👍🏻
#I only know it's been that long because I have a picture on my phone#of the list of clips I needed that I wrote down on a piece of receipt paper in the middle of a shift#I've added a couple more since then#finally got them all together a few weeks ago but now I'm actually doing the work on it
2 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Eloise rushed through the halls, frantically looking for Lycanna, but also desperately trying to avoid open areas, trying to keep out of sight, he did not want Heath finding him again.
A hand grabbed his arm, which made the werecat yelp out a surprised meow, but the familiar voice that reached his ears soothed him.
“You okay?”
Lycanna asked, Clawdeen visible behind them, watching the best friends.
Eloise opened his mouth to answer, but his lip wobbled and tears sprung to his eyes. Lycanna hissed and smoothed a hand quickly down one of Eloise’s ginger furred ears. “Hey, hey, hey,” Lycanna mumbled. “it’s okay, it’s okay.”
Eloise opened his arms and Lycanna immediately wrapped the smaller were up in their arms, letting Eloise get his emotions back under control, giving him a squeeze before letting him go.
“Heath catch up to ya’?”
Clawdeen asked, poking her head forward. “Lycanna told me.” the werewolf said when Eloise blinked bright blue eyes up at her.
Eloise nodded, before his ears slumped back.
“Forgot about me...” Elosie mumbled, his tail lightly tapping at his heels. “Went out with Toralei instead...”
Clawdeen rolled her eyes. “How can a monster be so damn forgetful?” Clawdeen said out into the air, putting a claw to Eloise’s lips when he made to answer. “Nah, listen to me, kitty.” Clawdeen started, looking to Lycanna for permission, smiling at her partner when they nodded. “Yeah, the jerk forgot about it, but are you gonna let that ruin your weekend? march right up to that boy and make him pick! if he wants to spend with Toralei, of all monsters, then let him! but you can’t live in limbo like this of not knowing where in the dang world you stand to him.”
Clawdeen tilted her hip, her ears pinprick straight. “You gotta do something, you don’t gotta be alone, of course not,” Clawdeen pointed at Lycanna and herself to Eloise, winking at him when he turned back at her. “But you gotta do it, or you’ll be miserable, and that ain’t acceptable.”
Eloise blinked for a moment, before sighing and nodding. “You’re right, really.” the werecat said, before steeling himself. “I can’t just ignore him, and it’s just going to hurt not knowing just what was going through his head.” Eloise sucked in a breath, shaking his head. “Yeah! I’m gonna go find him!” Eloise took a step, before he stopped and looked back at the other weremonsters. “Come with me?” he asked, making Lycanna smile gently, and causing Clawdeen to laugh.
“Of course! what else are friends for!” Clawdeen said, giving Eloise a pat on the back.
Phoenica belongs to @berrisweet-panda
Kitabelle belongs to @abyssnighthawk
Lycanna belongs to @shinynymphia
#oh geez we doing this#I fully did not realize how long it's been since I drew one of these I thought it had only been a few months#but then I looked and oh my god it was almost a year?? I don't know what happened I just got distracted I guess?#anyone remember that arc (?) I was doing of toralei taking heath from eloise because she's mad at him?#this is a continuation of that! we're almost done! I promise this time! I want to finish this so bad#I only have one more picture planned if it turns into more then it'll be because I couldn't wrap it up with just that#but other than that it's just one left#I wanted it to look like lycanna clawdeen and eloise were hiding in a corner while the world went along outside of that#thus the extras but I know I didn't really make the hallway big enough vrs the corner to give that effect oops#phoenica is on the phone with cleo they be a dating~ and kitabelle and spectra hold hands because girlfriends~#monster high#fan characters#phoenica sunset#cleo de nile#kitabelle jingles#spectra vondergeist#lycanna bloodbite#eloise sunbeam#clawdeen wolf
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Twenty years ago, February 15th, 2004, I got married for the first time.
It was twenty years earlier than I ever expected to.
To celebrate/comemorate the date, I'm sitting down to write out everything I remember as I remember it. No checking all the pictures I took or all the times I've written about this before. I'm not going to turn to my husband (of twenty years, how the f'ing hell) to remember a detail for me.
This is not a 100% accurate recounting of that first wild weekend in San Francisco. But it -is- a 100% accurate recounting of how I remember it today, twenty years after the fact.
Join me below, if you would.
2004 was an election year, and much like conservatives are whipping up anti-trans hysteria and anti-trans bills and propositions to drive out the vote today, in 2004 it was all anti-gay stuff. Specifically, preventing the evil scourge of same-sex marriage from destroying everything good and decent in the world.
Enter Gavin Newstrom. At the time, he was the newly elected mayor of San Francisco. Despite living next door to the city all my life, I hadn’t even heard of the man until Valentines Day 2004 when he announced that gay marriage was legal in San Francisco and started marrying people at city hall.
It was a political stunt. It was very obviously a political stunt. That shit was illegal, after all. But it was a very sweet political stunt. I still remember the front page photo of two ancient women hugging each other forehead to forehead and crying happy tears.
But it was only going to last for as long as it took for the California legal system to come in and make them knock it off.
The next day, we’re on the phone with an acquaintance, and she casually mentions that she’s surprised the two of us aren’t up at San Francisco getting married with everyone else.
“Everyone else?” Goes I, “I thought they would’ve shut that down already?”
“Oh no!” goes she, “The courts aren’t open until Tuesday. Presidents Day on Monday and all. They’re doing them all weekend long!”
We didn’t know because social media wasn’t a thing yet. I only knew as much about it as I’d read on CNN, and most of the blogs I was following were more focused on what bullshit President George W Bush was up to that day.
"Well shit", me and my man go, "do you wanna?" I mean, it’s a political stunt, it wont really mean anything, but we’re not going to get another chance like this for at least 20 years. Why not?
The next day, Sunday, we get up early. We drive north to the southern-most BART station. We load onto Bay Area Rapid Transit, and rattle back and forth all the way to the San Francisco City Hall stop.
We had slightly miscalculated.
Apparently, demand for marriages was far outstripping the staff they had on hand to process them. Who knew. Everyone who’d gotten turned away Saturday had been given tickets with times to show up Sunday to get their marriages done. My babe and I, we could either wait to see if there was a space that opened up, or come back the next day, Monday.
“Isn’t City Hall closed on Monday?” I asked. “It’s a holiday”
“Oh sure,” they reply, “but people are allowed to volunteer their time to come in and work on stuff anyways. And we have a lot of people who want to volunteer their time to have the marriage licensing offices open tomorrow.”
“Oh cool,” we go, “Backup.”
“Make sure you’re here if you do,” they say, “because the California Supreme Court is back in session Tuesday, and will be reviewing the motion that got filed to shut us down.”
And all this shit is super not-legal, so they’ll totally be shutting us down goes unsaid.
00000
We don’t get in Saturday. We wind up hanging out most of the day, though.
It’s… incredible. I can say, without hyperbole, that I have never experienced so much concentrated joy and happiness and celebration of others’ joy and happiness in all my life before or since. My face literally ached from grinning. Every other minute, a new couple was coming out of City Hall, waving their paperwork to the crowd and cheering and leaping and skipping. Two glorious Latina women in full Mariachi band outfits came out, one in the arms of another. A pair of Jewish boys with their families and Rabbi. One couple managed to get a Just Married convertible arranged complete with tin-cans tied to the bumper to drive off in. More than once I was giving some rice to throw at whoever was coming out next.
At some point in the mid-afternoon, there was a sudden wave of extra cheering from the several hundred of us gathered at the steps, even though no one was coming out. There was a group going up the steps to head inside, with some generic black-haired shiny guy at the front. My not-yet-husband nudged me, “That’s Newsom.” He said, because he knew I was hopeless about matching names and people.
Ooooooh, I go. That explains it. Then I joined in the cheers. He waved and ducked inside.
So dusk is starting to fall. It’s February, so it’s only six or so, but it’s getting dark.
“Should we just try getting in line for tomorrow -now-?” we ask.
“Yeah, I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.” One of the volunteers tells us. “We’re not allowed to have people hang out overnight like this unless there are facilities for them and security. We’d need Porta-Poties for a thousand people and police patrols and the whole lot, and no one had time to get all that organized. Your best bet is to get home, sleep, and then catch the first BART train up at 5am and keep your fingers crossed.
Monday is the last day to do this, after all.
00000
So we go home. We crash out early. We wake up at 4:00. We drive an hour to hit the BART station. We get the first train up. We arrive at City Hall at 6:30AM.
The line stretches around the entirety of San Francisco City Hall. You could toss a can of Coke from the end of the line to the people who’re up to be first through the doors and not have to worry about cracking it open after.
“Uh.” We go. “What the fuck is -this-?”
So.
Remember why they weren’t going to be able to have people hang out overnight?
Turns out, enough SF cops were willing to volunteer unpaid time to do patrols to cover security. And some anonymous person delivered over a dozen Porta-Poties that’d gotten dropped off around 8 the night before.
It’s 6:30 am, there are almost a thousand people in front of us in line to get this literal once in a lifetime marriage, the last chance we expect to have for at least 15 more years (it was 2004, gay rights were getting shoved back on every front. It was not looking good. We were just happy we lived in California were we at least weren’t likely to loose job protections any time soon.).
Then it starts to rain.
We had not dressed for rain.
00000
Here is how the next six hours go.
We’re in line. Once the doors open at 7am, it will creep forward at a slow crawl. It’s around 7 when someone shows up with garbage bags for everyone. Cut holes for the head and arms and you’ve got a makeshift raincoat! So you’ve got hundreds of gays and lesbians decked out in the nicest shit they could get on short notice wearing trashbags over it.
Everyone is so happy.
Everyone is so nervous/scared/frantic that we wont be able to get through the doors before they close for the day.
People online start making delivery orders.
Coffee and bagels are ordered in bulk and delivered to City Hall for whoever needs it. We get pizza. We get roses. Random people come by who just want to give hugs to people in line because they’re just so happy for us. The tour busses make detours to go past the lines. Chinese tourists lean out with their cameras and shout GOOD LUCK while car horns honk.
A single sad man holding a Bible tries to talk people out of doing this, tells us all we’re sinning and to please don’t. He gives up after an hour. A nun replaces him with a small sign about how this is against God’s will. She leaves after it disintegrates in the rain.
The day before, when it was sunny, there had been a lot of protestors. Including a large Muslim group with their signs about how “Not even DOGS do such things!” Which… Yes they do.
A lot of snide words are said (by me) about how the fact that we’re willing to come out in the rain to do this while they’re not willing to come out in the rain to protest it proves who actually gives an actual shit about the topic.
Time passes. I measure it based on which side of City Hall we’re on. The doors face East. We start on Northside. Coffee and trashbags are delivered when we’re on the North Side. Pizza first starts showing up when we’re on Westside, which is also where I see Bible Man and Nun. Roses are delivered on Southside. And so forth.
00000
We have Line Neighbors.
Ahead of us are a gay couple a decade or two older than us. They’ve been together for eight years. The older one is a school teacher. He has his coat collar up and turns away from any news cameras that come near while we reposition ourselves between the lenses and him. He’s worried about the parents of one of his students seeing him on the news and getting him fired. The younger one will step away to get interviewed on his own later on. They drove down for the weekend once they heard what was going on. They’d started around the same time we did, coming from the Northeast, and are parked in a nearby garage.
The most perky energetic joyful woman I’ve ever met shows up right after we turned the corner to Southside to tackle the younger of the two into a hug. She’s their local friend who’d just gotten their message about what they’re doing and she will NOT be missing this. She is -so- happy for them. Her friends cry on her shoulders at her unconditional joy.
Behind us are a lesbian couple who’d been up in San Francisco to celebrate their 12th anniversary together. “We met here Valentines Day weekend! We live down in San Diego, now, but we like to come up for the weekend because it’s our first love city.”
“Then they announced -this-,” the other one says, “and we can’t leave until we get married. I called work Sunday and told them I calling in sick until Wednesday.”
“I told them why,” her partner says, “I don’t care if they want to give me trouble for it. This is worth it. Fuck them.”
My husband-to-be and I look at each other. We’ve been together for not even two years at this point. Less than two years. Is it right for us to be here? We’re potentially taking a spot from another couple that’d been together longer, who needed it more, who deserved it more.”
“Don’t you fucking dare.” Says the 40-something gay couple in front of us.
“This is as much for you as it is for us!” says the lesbian couple who’ve been together for over a decade behind us.
“You kids are too cute together,” says the gay couple’s friend. “you -have- to. Someday -you’re- going to be the old gay couple that’s been together for years and years, and you deserve to have been married by then.”
We stay in line.
It’s while we’re on the Southside of City Hall, just about to turn the corner to Eastside at long last that we pick up our own companions. A white woman who reminds me an awful lot of my aunt with a four year old black boy riding on her shoulders. “Can we say we’re with you? His uncles are already inside and they’re not letting anyone in who isn’t with a couple right there.” “Of course!” we say.
The kid is so very confused about what all the big deal is, but there’s free pizza and the busses keep driving by and honking, so he’s having a great time.
We pass by a statue of Lincoln with ‘Marriage for All!’ and "Gay Rights are Human Rights!" flags tucked in the crooks of his arms and hanging off his hat.
It’s about noon, noon-thirty when we finally make it through the doors and out of the rain.
They’ve promised that anyone who’s inside when the doors shut will get married. We made it. We’re safe.
We still have a -long- way to go.
00000
They’re trying to fit as many people into City Hall as possible. Partially to get people out of the rain, mostly to get as many people indoors as possible. The line now stretches down into the basement and up side stairs and through hallways I’m not entirely sure the public should ever be given access to. We crawl along slowly but surely.
It’s after we’ve gone through the low-ceiling basement hallways past offices and storage and back up another set of staircases and are going through a back hallway of low-ranked functionary offices that someone comes along handing out the paperwork. “It’s an hour or so until you hit the office, but take the time to fill these out so you don’t have to do it there!”
We spend our time filling out the paperwork against walls, against backs, on stone floors, on books.
We enter one of the public areas, filled with displays and photos of City Hall Demonstrations of years past.
I take pictures of the big black and white photo of the Abraham Lincoln statue holding banners and signs against segregation and for civil rights.
The four year old boy we helped get inside runs past us around this time, chased by a blond haired girl about his own age, both perused by an exhausted looking teenager helplessly begging them to stop running.
Everyone is wet and exhausted and vibrating with anticipation and the building-wide aura of happiness that infuses everything.
The line goes into the marriage office. A dozen people are at the desk, shoulder to shoulder, far more than it was built to have working it at once.
A Sister of Perpetual Indulgence is directing people to city officials the moment they open up. She’s done up in her nun getup with all her makeup on and her beard is fluffed and be-glittered and on point. “Oh, I was here yesterday getting married myself, but today I’m acting as your guide. Number 4 sweeties, and -Congradulatiooooons!-“
The guy behind the counter has been there since six. It’s now 1:30. He’s still giddy with joy. He counts our money. He takes our paperwork, reviews it, stamps it, sends off the parts he needs to, and hands the rest back to us. “Alright, go to the Rotunda, they’ll direct you to someone who’ll do the ceremony. Then, if you want the certificate, they’ll direct you to -that- line.” “Can’t you just mail it to us?” “Normally, yeah, but the moment the courts shut us down, we’re not going to be allowed to.”
We take our paperwork and join the line to the Rotunda.
If you’ve seen James Bond: A View to a Kill, you’ve seen the San Francisco City Hall Rotunda. There are literally a dozen spots set up along the balconies that overlook the open area where marriage officials and witnesses are gathered and are just processing people through as fast as they can.
That’s for the people who didn’t bring their own wedding officials.
There’s a Catholic-adjacent couple there who seem to have brought their entire families -and- the priest on the main steps. They’re doing the whole damn thing. There’s at least one more Rabbi at work, I can’t remember what else. Just that there was a -lot-.
We get directed to the second story, northside. The San Francisco City Treasurer is one of our two witnesses. Our marriage officient is some other elected official I cannot remember for the life of me (and I'm only writing down what I can actively remember, so I can't turn to my husband next to me and ask, but he'll have remembered because that's what he does.)
I have a wilting lily flower tucked into my shirt pocket. My pants have water stains up to the knees. My hair is still wet from the rain, I am blubbering, and I can’t get the ring on my husband’s finger. The picture is a treat, I tell you.
There really isn’t a word for the mix of emotions I had at that time. Complete disbelief that this was reality and was happening. Relief that we’d made it. Awe at how many dozens of people had personally cheered for us along the way and the hundreds to thousands who’d cheered for us generally.
Then we're married.
Then we get in line to get our license.
It’s another hour. This time, the line goes through the higher stories. Then snakes around and goes past the doorway to the mayor’s office.
Mayor Newsom is not in today. And will be having trouble getting into his office on Tuesday because of the absolute barricade of letters and flowers and folded up notes and stuffed animals and City Hall maps with black marked “THANK YOU!”s that have been piled up against it.
We make it to the marriage records office.
I take a picture of my now husband standing in front of a case of the marriage records for 1902-1912. Numerous kids are curled up in corners sleeping. My own memory is spotty. I just know we got the papers, and then we’re done with lines. We get out, we head to the front entrance, and we walk out onto the City Hall steps.
It's almost 3PM.
00000
There are cheers, there’s rice thrown at us, there are hundreds of people celebrating us with unconditional love and joy and I had never before felt the goodness that exists in humanity to such an extent. It’s no longer raining, just a light sprinkle, but there are still no protestors. There’s barely even any news vans.
We make our way through the gauntlet, we get hands shaked, people with signs reading ”Congratulations!” jump up and down for us. We hit the sidewalks, and we begin to limp our way back to the BART station.
I’m at the BART station, we’re waiting for our train back south, and I’m sitting on the ground leaning against a pillar and in danger of falling asleep when a nondescript young man stops in front of me and shuffles his feet nervously. “Hey. I just- I saw you guys, down at City Hall, and I just… I’m so happy for you. I’m so proud of what you could do. I’m- I’m just really glad, glad you could get to do this.”
He shakes my hand, clasps it with both of his and shakes it. I thank him and he smiles and then hurries away as fast as he can without running.
Our train arrives and the trip south passes in a semilucid blur.
We get back to our car and climb in.
It’s 4:30 and we are starving.
There’s a Carls Jr near the station that we stop off at and have our first official meal as a married couple. We sit by the window and watch people walking past and pick out others who are returning from San Francisco. We're all easy to pick out, what with the combination of giddiness and water damage.
We get home about 6-7. We take the dog out for a good long walk after being left alone for two days in a row. We shower. We bundle ourselves up. We bury ourselves in blankets and curl up and just sort of sit adrift in the surrealness of what we’d just done.
We wake up the next day, Tuesday, to read that the California State Supreme Court has rejected the petition to shut down the San Francisco weddings because the paperwork had a misplaced comma that made the meaning of one phrase unclear.
The State Supreme Court would proceed to play similar bureaucratic tricks to drag the process out for nearly a full month before they have nothing left and finally shut down Mayor Newsom’s marriages.
My parents had been out of state at the time at a convention. They were flying into SFO about the same moment we were walking out of City Hall. I apologized to them later for not waiting and my mom all but shook me by the shoulders. “No! No one knew that they’d go on for so long! You did what you needed to do! I’ll just be there for the next one!”
00000
It was just a piece of paper. Legally, it didn’t even hold any weight thirty days later. My philosophy at the time was “marriage really isn’t that important, aside from the legal benefits. It’s just confirming what you already have.”
But maybe it’s just societal weight, or ingrained culture, or something, but it was different after. The way I described it at the time, and I’ve never really come up with a better metaphor is, “It’s like we were both holding onto each other in the middle of the ocean in the middle of a storm. We were keeping each other above water, we were each other’s support. But then we got this piece of paper. And it was like the ground rose up to meet our feet. We were still in an ocean, still in the middle of a storm, but there was a solid foundation beneath our feet. We still supported each other, but there was this other thing that was also keeping our heads above the water.
It was different. It was better. It made things more solid and real.
I am forever grateful for all the forces and all the people who came together to make it possible. It’s been twenty years and we’re still together and still married.
We did a domestic partnership a year later to get the legal paperwork. We’d done a private ceremony with proper rings (not just ones grabbed out of the husband’s collection hours before) before then. And in 2008, we did a legal marriage again.
Rushed. In a hurry. Because there was Proposition 13 to be voted on which would make them all illegal again if it passed.
It did, but we were already married at that point, and they couldn’t negate it that time.
Another few years after that, the Supreme Court finally threw up their hands and said "Fine! It's been legal in places and nothing's caught on fire or been devoured by locusts. It's legal everywhere. Shut up about it!"
And that was that.
00000
When I was in highschool, in the late 90s, I didn’t expect to see legal gay marriage until I was in my 50s. I just couldn’t see how the American public as it was would ever be okay with it.
I never expected to be getting married within five years. I never expected it to be legal nationwide before I’d barely started by 30s. I never thought I’d be in my 40s and it’d be such a non-issue that the conservative rabble rousers would’ve had to move onto other wedge issues altogether.
I never thought that I could introduce another man as my husband and absolutely no one involved would so much as blink.
I never thought I’d live in this world.
And it’s twenty years later today. I wonder how our line buddies are doing. Those babies who were running around the wide open rooms playing tag will have graduated college by now. The kids whose parents the one line-buddy was worried would see him are probably married too now. Some of them to others of the same gender.
I don’t have some greater message to make with all this. Other then, culture can shift suddenly in ways you can’t predict. For good or ill. Mainly this is just me remembering the craziest fucking 36 hours of my life twenty years after the fact and sharing them with all of you.
The future we’re resigned to doesn’t have to be the one we live in. Society can shift faster than you think. The unimaginable of twenty years ago is the baseline reality of today.
And always remember that the people who want to get married will show up by the thousands in rain that none of those who’re against it will brave.
26K notes
·
View notes
Text
YOUR BIGGEST FAN — GETO SUGURU
✧・. on vacation with your family, you discover that your biggest fan may not be a mystery after fall.
( TW ) f!reader. camgirl!reader. stepbrother!Geto (in a plot device way, no nii-chan and stuff.) unprotected sex. cream pie. phone sex. squirting. fingering. mutual masturbation. cunnilingus. deception. mentions of bullying. misunderstandings. hurt/comfort. explicit content.
word count - > 6.6k
authors note. can you see I wasn’t creative with the username? I have a love-hate relationship with this fic because I feel like it goes from 0 to 100 real quick lmfao. This is heavily inspired by the book Eyes on Me!
“I bet you look handsome.” You smile at the black screen with the default profile picture floating in the middle.
‘Nah.’ User @Sssman72 types into the chat the takes up the left half of your computer.
“Stop! Don’t say think bad things about yourself,” You laugh, making sure your tits jiggle in the flimsy red lingerie you're wearing. “I know your handsome baby.” You reassure your favorite client. The man who alone gives you 50% of your income. He’s the one who bought you this pretty lingerie set you're wearing.
‘You look tired babydoll...how was today?’ He types.
“I’m fine, I promise, just had a long day, was on a few other private chats with some other customers the entire day.” You confess. In all honesty after this call you were planning to pass out and try to get a few hours of sleep before you had to fly out to your family's vacation home. Today on your live stream, you told your followers you were going on vacation for the next two weeks and wouldn't be online. You didn't plan to get on a call with @Sssman72 but he had texted you as you were getting ready to go to bed that he had a bad day and wanted to see you. Before you had a chance to protest, he spent you 500 and said it would only be 30 minutes. You gave in because first he was your biggest supporter and you wanted to be there for him in some way with all the money and gifts, he sends you and second, you didn’t mind chatting with him, you thought he was the sweetest and you struck lucky the day he joined one of your lives.
‘I’ll let you go then, I want you to get some rest before your flight, sorry for keeping you up beautiful just needed to vent about my ass job.’
“I’m always here for you handsome, I'll make sure to send you those pictures you requested through the week.”
‘Make sure you enjoy your break babydoll, don’t gotta worry about me. Goodnight.’
You say your goodbyes and end up falling asleep in the lingerie bought you as soon as you shut your laptop.
—
“How’s college y/n?” Your stepfather asks when you slide into the back seat of the car. Your mother fitting the last of your luggage into the trunk.
“it’s fine, some of my classes are difficult but nothing I can't manage.” You answer as you buckle in.
“Oh yeah? Thats good. You mom tells me you started a job a few months ago, how's that working out for you?”
You tense under the small blanket you’ve thrown over yourself.
“u-uhm yeah its good—yeah it’s been fun.”
“I’m sorry sweetheart, I don't remember what you mother told me you did again.” He chuckles.
“Uhm—I'm a bartender, m-my friend works there and got me a position.” You tell him the lie you've rehearsed hundreds of times. You start to sweat under the blanket. Did he buy it? What if he and your mom found out what you did? Are they planning to ambush you when you get to the house? They're going to make you drop out and chain you up in the basement when they find out. You throw the blanket off, suddenly too hot and alert. Guess that nap you were planning on taking during the drive wasn’t happening.
“Oh, that’s fun sweetheart, I remember I bartended awhile when I was in college, got fired for stealing the alcohol though,” He laughs at the memory before turning to look at you. “You wouldn’t do that though, you’re a good girl.”
You nod, thankful that your mom decided now to take your stepdad's attention away and get in the car.
“Alrighty were good to!” She cheers. Your stepdad turns back around in his seat before starting the car.
“Finally, thought we were going to get a fine parked here another minute.”
“Oh, shut up! Y/n are you excited to go back to the vacation house? You haven’t been in years!” You mom asks as you guys pull out of the airport.
“Yeah, I can’t wait to, I missed the hiking trails and the waterfalls. None of that in the big city.” You answer truthfully. You did miss the silence of the secluded house you vacationed at every summer since your mom married your stepdad. It was the company that you hated. As if your mom heard your thought, she says something that makes your heart drop.
“Suguru feels the same way, we didn't even have to blackmail him to come! That boy...”
“Suguru is coming?” You scream.
“Coming? Sweetie, he’s already arrived this morning. I’m so excited were all together as a family again.”
“Are you fucking serious mom? Turn the car around and bring me back to the airport!” You screech. You were not going to spend the next week with your bully of a stepbrother.
“Y/n!” You mom gasps.
“Sweetheart, he’s changed.” Your stepdad tells you as if that's going to make it better.
“That’s what he wants you to think! He’s the worst human being on planet earth, please don’t make me spend the next few weeks with him, please mom,” you lean over the consul. “Please dad.” You pout at your stepfather. You know he gets weak whenever you call him dad.
“Sweetheart...”
“No! You aren’t sweet talking your way out of this, he’s changed. He isn't the same teenager with a chip on his shoulder, he’s matured. He even told me the reason he’s coming is to apologize and bond with you y/n.”
“He’s lying mom! He doesn't care about me; I wouldn't be surprised if he told you that just so he could drown me in the lake. You guys own the land so nobody would find my body!” You start to tear up. You were going to jump out of the car if your parents didn't turn back around. Your stepbrother was your biggest tormentor since the day you met him. From picking on you at home to getting the girls to bully you at school. He made your life hell for four years. The day you left for college you screamed how much you hated him and told your parents that the four of you would only be in the same room again when you lay in a casket.
“Oh, don’t cry sweetheart. Your mother is right, he’s changed, I wouldn’t have allowed him around you if he hadn’t. Give us a week and if you want to leave, I promise I'll drive you back to the airport and you’ll never have to see him again, please?”
“No.” You cross your arms and look out the window despite knowing that they’ve won. You can’t jump out of the car now that you are on the highway, and you didn’t bring your own car to drive yourself back to the airport.
“We’ll give you the master suite, the whole attic floor to yourself.” They bargain. You act like you’re thinking of accepting the offer. With the master suite taking up the entire third floor you could lock yourself up there and ignore Suguru. You could also film videos and even go live because the room is soundproof. You perk up at that. You could just spend your vacation on stream and chatting with @Sssman72. He’s somehow always free for you and told you that if you get bored you could call him. He’ll make up for your stepbrother’s awful behavior.
“Fine, I’ll take the master suite.”
—
“Okay that's the last of your luggage, we’ll be having dinner in a few hours on the dock.”
“Kay, thanks.” You watch your stepdad shut the door. Once he does you release the tension in your shoulders. You lock the door before running to throw yourself onto the huge king bed. You sink down. You didn’t see Suguru when you arrived, you mom told you he was probably in town. You hope he stayed in town for the next two weeks.
After laying it bed thinking about how much you hate Suguru with a passion you pull out your phone and open the porn app. You click on messages and open your chat with @Sssman72.
‘Hey...I know I told you I was on vacation but I already wanna go home. You don't have to answer lol.’ You send. He immediately starts typing.
‘Of course, I'll answer you babydoll. What’s wrong?’ Your face heats at the pet names. You wish you knew what he looked like, all he told you about himself was that he was in his twenties and worked for his father's company. You want to know more, what he looks like, what he sounds like. If the messages he sends make you sweat, you wonder what’ll happen if he spoke to them to you. In your head he’s a handsome bachelor who just so happened to find you and deem you worthy of his time and money but hell, he could be lying. He could be some old rich man in his eighties who likes young girls like all the rest of your viewers. The romantic part of you ignores that and is convinced he is who he says he is and that one day you’re going to meet in person and fall in and have a bunch of his babies.
‘You know that stepbrother I told you about?’
“Mm, that asshole who bullied you?’
‘Yep, that asshole. Anyways I bet you won't guess who's here on vacation with me?’
‘Are you serious?’
‘Dead serious...my parents didn’t tell me until I was already trapped and now, I have to spend my vacation away with a man who hates me for no reason.’
‘Wow that’s crazy lol. Did your parents tell you why he chose to vacation with you if he doesn’t like you?’
‘Apparently he’s here to make amends...he’s probably here to kill me so he gets all the inheritance.’
‘Well, what if he’s really there to make amends baby?’
‘You should've heard the groan I just let out. I can’t believe you’re on his side babe. When I tell you that he too evil for that I mean it.’
‘Hey, you know I'm always on your side babydoll, I'm just giving you a man’s perspective on it. Maybe he realized he’s fucked up and he feels back so he wants to apologize for all the wrong he caused you’
‘Yea well from a women's perspective he’s an asshole who doesn’t care about anyone else but himself!’
‘Don’t say the baby...hypothetically what would he have to do to get you to forgive him?’
‘Hypothetically he's going to have to get on his knees and beg for my forgiveness every time he sees me until I deem, he's forgiven. And he’s also gonna have to send every dollar in his bank account to me AND be my slave for the rest of his life...hypothetically.’
‘Lol you never know babydoll, he just might be willing to do anything for your forgiveness. I know I would.’
‘That’s because you’re perfect and care about my feelings...now I'm gonna go get some sleep before having to eat with the devil. Pray he doesn’t poison me and I survive the night.’
—
You sit at the dinning room table waiting for Suguru. Of course, he’s late, he doesn’t care about anyone's time but his. You say so to your parents.
“Y/n stop being so harsh and give him a chance please.” You roll your eyes and go back to scrolling on social media.
“Sorry I'm late.” You jump at the deep voice before whipping your head to the left where your stepbrother stands looking so...so different.
“Suguru! No need to apologize! Come sit.” Your mother points to the empty seat opposite you. Suguru glances at you and smiles before walking to the seat. You gasp. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile at you or anyone else. Actually, you know he hasn’t smiled at anyone, he was know for being so stoic. You watch intensely as he pulls out the chair and sits. He looks like a different man, his hair is long, down past his shoulders, the black shirt he's wearing stretches around a huge chest. He looks like he spends half his day in the gym. And those eyes—those eyes that always had heavy eyebags and glared at everyone that looked his way, look at you with gentle look you can’t place. They even crease with the smile that he’s wearing. Your eyes widen, he has a fucking dimple. He looks like a gentleman, he looks handsome. You can't stop staring at his smile.
“Y/n? You alright?” You Stepdad breaks through the haze you were in. You look at your parents and back to Suguru who all have concerned expressions on their faces. You feel your entire body heat in embarrassment.
‘Uhm—yea I'm fine.” You look at your parents, refusing to look back at that smile. Suguru has different plans.
“Hey y/n, it’s been a long time yeah?” Suguru says in that deep voice that has your heart beating faster. Out the corner of your eye you watch as Suguru reaches over the food, holding his hand out. Does he really think you’re about to give him a damn handshake?
...Are you seriously thinking about shaking that huge hand? No, you won’t.
You purse your lips and cross your arms over your chest. You swear you see him glance down at your cleavage but the next second, he's holding eye contact. You blink and look away with a ‘hmm’. He lowers his hand.
“Alright guys let's eat, okay?” You mom breaks the tension. Everyone grabs their share, and you eat in silence for a while, nobody brave enough to speak and you simmering with anger at Suguru. You throw glare at him every time you look up from your plate which happens more times than you’d admit.
“You got something there.” Suguru points the sharp end of the fork at you.
“What?” You ask.
“There,” He grabs his napkin and starts to reach for you. You tense suddenly locked in place. Suguru brings the napkin to the corner of your mouth and wipes it. “There you go.”
You stare at him like he's grown three heads. Maybe he’s dying and wants to make amends? Why else would he be treating you like this. Maybe someone took over his body? That has to be it.
“Uh thanks?” You mummer, unsure what to say.
“You're welcome little sis.” You choke on your spit. What the hell did he just call you!? He must be messing with you; you’re suddenly filled with rage. You glare at him, hoping he disintegrates with the sheer force of your stare.
“You’ve grown up.” Suguru says after another blinking contest, you lost.
“Yea, have you?” You snarl. He stops smiling.
“I have,” he says seriously, setting his fork down. “I want to talk about—”
“I don’t care.”
“Please—”
“No!” You slam your hand on the table, and he goes silent. You’re overcome with guilt before you remember that he bullied you for a year, that he told the entire school to bully you after he graduated. Fuck him.
—
You slam the door the door of your room speed walking to the bathroom. You strip your clothes before turning on the tub. You finally breathe when you settle into the scolding hot water. You needed to wash his gaze, his touch, off your body. The entire dinner after your conversation was awkward, your parents didn't really speak, and you refused to glance back up at Suguru who wouldn't stop staring.
You hated him. You hated him. You—you can’t bring yourself to hate him. For some unknown reason you can’t bring yourself to hate him despite everything he's put you through. Why? You shake your head. You don’t want to think of Suguru while you're trying to relax. You phone dings. You pick up and a smile replaces your frown. @Sssman72.
‘How are you babydoll, you alive?’
‘Yes, wish I wasn’t though.’
‘Why what happened during dinner?’ You sigh and send him voice message detailing everything that happened.
‘Oh wow.’
‘I know.’
‘You gonna give him a chance to explain?’
‘I don’t know I don’t want to but also, I want to hear his explanation...can we call I really don't want to type all of this out?’
‘Course, give me a second. I'll call you.’ You wait a few minutes before you hear the familiar ring.
“Hi handsome.” you smile at the blank profile. Right now, you’d do anything to see him, to hear him comfort you, to be in his arms. He could be the ugliest man in the world, you wouldn’t care.
‘HI beautiful. Talk to me.’ He types into the chat box.
“I don't know. like I said I want to hear him out but also, I don't want to hear it because what it it’s bad, what if it doesn’t excuse it? But also, what if it does and I feel like shit for being mean back—it's just so stressful.”
‘I know babydoll. I wish I could be there right now and hold you. I would do anything to take that hurt away. I'm sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.’
“Stop, don’t apologize you didn’t do anything. If anything, I should apologize for using you as a therapist when you paid to see me naked.” You laugh.
‘Beautiful girl—I would rather pay to hear all your problems and be able to comfort you than see you naked again.’
“Wow you don’t want to see me naked, I'm hurt. Just kidding, thank you for saying that handsome.” You feel your heart skip a beat at his message. Maybe you can convince him to turn his camera on tonight.
“I kinda wanna take my mind off everything right now.” You murmur into the phone before turning on your camera. You hold it above you and smile so he can see everything.
‘So, fucking beautiful, prettiest girl in the world. You gonna give me a show?’
“hm,” You use your free hand to tap your chin. “Only if you do something for me.”
‘And what is that?’
‘Can you turn your camera on? And before you say no, you don’ have to show your face—maybe you can just show your dick or something else. We can masturbate on the phone, please handsome please.” You whine giving him your best puppy face. You watch as the chat bubbles disappear and reappear. You’re about to back out but all the sudden you’re looking at a dim lit room and a huge cock between a big hand. Your eyes widen and the sight.
"Y-you probably won’t be able to type and jack off at the same time” You suck in a breath. Please turn your audio on please...
‘I’m gonna turn my audio on but I won’t talk, okay? Think you can get off on my moans babydoll?’
You nod.
‘Good girl now show me that pretty pussy, make it squirt for me.’
You lift yourself up to sit on the corner of the tub, propping one leg on tub and spreading the other that rests in the water. You flip the camera so your mystery man can watch you finger yourself. You hear him groan and spit onto his hand.
You moan softly at the sound, teasing your entrance. You wish he was talking to through it, but you’ll settle for this for now. One day...
“Mmm, wish you were the one fingering me right now,” You circle your clit before gliding your fingers out your cunt.
“Wish you were here, holding me n' fucking me.” You curl your fingers into your g-spot and moan. You look back at your phone, watching your stranger play with the tip of his long cock. It looks so big compared to his hand, you know you’ll struggle to take it. Your pussy clenches around your small fingers that do close to nothing compared to your dildos at home.
“Wan’ your cock in me so bad, it looks so big you’ll have to force me to take it, you’ll have to hold me down and make me take it.” You cry out. You watch as he squeezes his hand up and down his cock. It looks painful. He grunts louder.
“M’gonna cum for you handsome, m’gonna give you what you want and make a mess,” You speed up your fingers to match how fast he slides his fist up and his cock. You moan louder, thankful that you got the suite and aren’t in the room next to your stepbrothers, how embarrassing it would be if he could hear you pleasuring yourself.
You clench harder around your fingers. Your stranger starts to grunt and groan louder. You shiver at his deep voice on the edge of cumming.
“Please please let me cum please! Can I come for you please?” You cry, your pussy starts to squelch, spurts of liquid coming out.
“Yes, cum for me.” Your mystery man groans in an all too familiar voice but before you have time to think about it, you’re squirting, the grip on your phone loosening and falling into the water.
“N-no!”
—
“Yes, this phone is done for, your mother and I are heading into town we can try to find a company that sells phone, but you know how small towns like this are.” You stepdad stares at your phone that’s been sitting in a container full of rice since last night.
“Fuck, I need it for work! What am I going to do?” You look up at him in distress.
“What do you need your phone for bartending?” He looks down at you incredulously.
“My boss is sending me some important email and I didn't bring my computer.” You lie.
“Well, you can use Suguru’s laptop, I saw him using it this morning in the sitting room. Think he left it there before he went on his run.” Your stepdad points down the hall as your mother rounds the corner.
“Ready to go honey?” She asks your stepdad.
“Coming! Use Suguru laptop to check your email, if we come back and you haven’t got the email you can use my phone. Bye! Have fun and be nice!” Your stepdad waves before following your mother. You wave back.
Of course, you had to use Suguru’s laptop. Maybe you can just log in, tell your stranger that you’re okay and that you won’t be able to contact him until you get a new phone and then delete the history before Suguru comes back from his run. It’ll only take a few minutes...you hope he doesn’t a password.
You run to the sitting room, but you don’t see a laptop anywhere. Dammit, he always has to make things hard for you. You walk up the round staircase and down the hall until you're standing in front of Suguru’s room. You look around, as if Suguru's gonna pop up out of nowhere and attack you from going into his room. You shake the thought off and open his door. You stop and stare at the bed, you feel like you've seen that duvet. You chalk it up to a bunch of man having the same bedding before turning to scan the room for a laptop. You quickly spot the laptop on his desk and run to it. You sigh in relief when it opens to the last tab he had opened. Thank you Suguru for not caring about who gets into your shit. You click new tab and start to type in the name of the website you use before you freeze.
You only need to type in three letters before the website popped up in top hits. You stop breathing. No... He couldn’t know what you do. Is that why he came here? Was he going to expose you to your parents? Was he acting nice to butter you up before crushing you? Your vision starts to blur. All boys watch porn, maybe he just happens to watch porn on the same website you film on. You can block your account from him so that he never finds you. You swallow before clicking the tab. You shakily move they pointer over to the search bar before you spot something in the left corner that makes you dizzy.
Right where the username of the viewer is supposed to be is the username @Sssman72. Your heart stops and you feel wetness hit your hands. This can’t be real. You move to chat and cry out when you see your username. The last text he sent was asking what happened. No—this is a dream; you’re going to wake up and this is going to be a bad nightmare. You refuse to believe the man you’ve been slowly falling in love with over the last six months is your stepbrother, your bully. The man you confessed all your darkest secrets is the man who never showed you an ounce of kindness. Is this a part of his master plan? Is he going to blackmail you and hold all the nudes you’ve sent him and all the secrets you’ve told him over your head. You’re going to become his slave, doing whatever he wants of you until you die. You curl into yourself and cry harder at the thought.
“Y/n? What are you do—” Suguru stops when he sees what's on the screen. “Let me explain please baby.” He reaches out to touch your shoulder. You flinch away from his touch.
“D-don’t call me that,” You sob staring at him with such heartbreak in your eyes he wants to drop and beg for your forgiveness. “You-you, it was you the whole time.” Your voice breaks.
Suguru nods slowly trying to reach out for you again. You take a few steps away. “Was this some masterplan to hold me under your thumb for the rest of my life!?” You scream at him.
He’s grateful your parents went out of town; this would be an absolute shitshow if they were here.
“No babydoll—”
“I said don’t call me that you asshole! Stop pretending. I hate you Suguru! You win okay, you win!” You tell him before you run out of his room. He curses before running after you, you run up that stairs and into the suite but before you can shut the door Suguru shoves it open. You drop to your knees to pull your suitcase from under your bed.
“Please listen to me y/n. I wasn’t faking—stop packing and let me explain.” Suguru pleads as he watches you throw your clothes into your suitcase.
“Y/n, baby, please listen to me please” He grabs your arm, and you try to fight him, but he pulls you down onto the bed with him. He hugs you around the waist and you push in this chest trying to break free. His heart aches. He hates seeing you hurt, he hates that he was the one who made you cry like this. He hates that you only associate him with the version of himself that he created to stop anyone from seeing what he was truly feeling. He hates that you won’t accept the real version of him now that you know it was him. He holds you tighter as you scream and cry. He whispers sweet nothings as you whisper how much you hate him. At some point you stop fighting and wrapping your arms around his neck. You sniffle into his neck, and he rubs your backs and rocks you.
“Why?” You ask hoarsely after all the anger leaves your body. Now you feel numb, like you're watching your life from a third perspective.
“I never hated you, I never lied, and I never planned to blackmail you—I know you don’t believe me baby but everything I've ever told you on that app was real. Everything I feel for you is real.” You pull your face out of his neck and stare up at him. You don’t believe him.
“I have never hated you y/n. I swear it. I hated the fact that my father replaced my mother with yours not even a year after she died. Baby, I never fucking hated you. I was just a teenager who didn’t know how to express my emotions so I took them out of the person I knew I could hurt the most. It was bad I know; I feel like shit to this day. When I graduated and got away from my father, I realized how bad I was to you, and I got into therapy. I wanted to be better for myself, for you, for everyone around me. I didn’t know that the bullying continued when I left. I didn’t know how bad people had taken it until that day I came back home. When you told me off about it, I was so confused. I’m so fucking sorry. I want to reach out and apologize for everything and the day I planned to do it Satoru—my best friend, you remember him—well he sent me the link to your account and so I made an account and it all just spiralized out of control after that. I was too embarrassed to tell you it was me and then we started to form a connection, a real connection, and I didn’t want our conversations to end so—fuck I'm sorry. Everything I told you; I meant it. I fucking meant every word.”
You sit there stunned, trying to comprehend everything he said. You never knew about his mother. You thought she had passed away long before your mom and his dad had met. But you remember when your stranger told you that. God, you remember when your not so mystery man told you about his family the seemed so familiar to yours. And he didn’t tell all those people to bully you after he left? Did he mean every word? Every word of affirmation he gave you. Those times when he told you that you were capable of being loved and that you were going to find someone who would love every part of you, the good and bad. Was that the same Suguru? You try to wrap your mind around the fact that the man you love is your stepbrother.
“I know it’s a lot of information.”
“It is.”
“Do you believe me?” He looks at you with furrowed brows. You do. Despite everything you find yourself nodding. He sighs and you feel the tension release from his shoulders that your arms are wrapped around. You suddenly realize the position you two are in and feel your face heat. Your arms are wrapped around his neck and your legs are on either side of his thick thighs his cock, the cock that you saw last night, is right underneath you, if you lower yourself an inch, you’d be sitting on it.
Suguru grips your waist with one hand, the other cupping the right side of your face. You look up at him and sniffle. He leans down until your foreheads are touching.
“If you give me achance, I'll treat you like the queen you are. I’ll love you the way you’re meant to be loved. One chance is all I ask for.” He mummers rubbing your noses together.
You hesitate, one part of you wants to run away with him because he’s the man you’ve wanted for the last six months. The other part of you wants to run away from him, he’s your stepbrother, he lied, and you don't know if he would’ve ever told you the truth. But isn’t that what he came here to do? Can you blame a little boy for being mad at the people who replaced his mother?
You give him his answer by grabbind his neck and push his lips towards you. If this does go to hell at least you’ll have a story to tell your feature children.
Suguru kisses back before standing and pulling you off him. “What—”
“You said you wanted me on my knees, didn't you? I’m ready to serve you in any way you want. I can have my savings transferred to your account by tomorrow night.” He says as he drops to his knees. You stare at him with wide eyes as he holds your legs and starts kissing from knee to right where your pussy starts.
“Suguru—”
“Shh babydoll let me take care of my girl, show her how sorry I am for hurting her.” He mummers before dropping your leg and picking up the next one. He repeats this a few more times before finally asking you to lift your hips so he can pull your leggings and panties off. Suguru throws your pants behind him before standing up to pull your tank top off. You reach behind to unbuckle your bra and toss it on the floor with your other clothes. Suguru chuckles, reaching up to kiss all over your face.
“Take your clothes off too Sugu.” You giggle, reaching for his sweatpants. You get a firm grip and yank them down. His thick cock bounces out. Your mouth goes slack. The phone call didn’t do it justice. It somehow looks bigger than before and if you weren’t wet before, you are now. That thing is going to be inside you soon.
“Like what you see beautiful?” You nod dumbly as you watch Suguru step out of his pants and take his shirt off with one hand. He’s so fucking sexy.
He drops back down to his knees and pulls you until your ass is hanging off the bed. “Lay down and let me please you.” You comply and watch as Suguru lifts your legs up and buries his face in your cunt. Your hands fly down to his long shiny hair.
“Suguru!” You moan as he licks you from asshole to clit. He sucks on your clit before biting both lips. Your pussy clenches. “Feels s’good Sugu!” You grind down on his talented tongue. Suguru hums into your clit before setting one of you thighs in his shoulder and bringing his fingers to your entrance. He teases you, only pushing his fingers into the joint before taking them out. You cry out in frustration before pulling on his long hair when he finally slides two big fingers into you.
Yours definitely don't compare to his long thick ones. Your back arches off the bed as Suguru fingers jackhammer into you all the while his mouth sucks on your clit.
“S’good Sugu! Don’t stop!” You scream letting go of hair with one hand to cover your loud mouth.
“Don’t hide those sweet moans from me babydoll. If you want my cock, you’ll let me hear you scream my name as you cum on my fingers and mouth.”
You bring you hand back to hair and grind hard as you get closer and closer to orgasm.
“Gonna cum! M’gonna come!” You cry, as you release all over Suguru's face. He moans and sucks even harder before adding another finger. You cry at the sudden intrusion. It doesn't take long before you’re coming all over again, this time liquid shooting out of you and onto Sugu’s chest.
“Yes baby, that's it—what a good girl,” He praises as he slurps up all your juices. “Such a fucking good gril f’me.”
“Gimme a kiss.” You say between heavy breaths.
“Does the pretty girl want kiss?” You nod, pulling Suguru down with you by the shoulders.
“Want you to kiss me while you fuck me for the first time. Want it to be special,” You confess shyly. Suguru leans down and pecks you on the forehead, then the nose, and then both of your cheeks.
“Don’ tease meanie!” You laugh when he kisses the corner of your lips.
“M’sorry baby, can you forgive me?” He pouts.
“Hmm—I’ll forgive you only if you kiss me right no—” You don’t even finish your sentence before Suguru shoves his tongue down your throat. You kiss him back and your tongues fight for dominance. Suguru wins and smiles into the kiss. You can’t believe this is happening. Your bully, your stepbrother, your mystery man is kissing you right now. Your about to make love with said man.
“You okay babydoll?”
“Mhm, just can’t believe this is all happening.”
“Me too beautiful, you sure you want to do this right now? We can always wait.”
“No, I want to. I want you.” You raise your hand to tuck his hair behind his ear. He smiles, showing you that adorable dimple. You kiss it.
Suguru kisses your lips once more before he grabs his cock, rubbing it up and down your cunt.
“Fuck—I don’t have a condom.”
“I’m on the pill—please Sugu.” You beg, frustrated from all this foreplay. You’ve been on edge since last tight in the tub.
“Alight beautiful,” He pushes the head of his cock into you. “Fuck me—you feel so good. Always knew you would.” You feel his fist guide his long cock into you. You moan. He fits you perfectly.
“Sugu—feel’s s’good, want more!” You cry, fisting the blanket’s underneath you.
“Does my baby want more—does she want to orgasm on my cock?” You nod watching Suguru lift your legs to his shoulder. He leans down, bringing your feet to the side of your head. You whine at the stretch.
Suguru groans as he pulls his cock in and out of you.
“S’too much!” You moan into his shoulder. He just laughs and picks up his pace. The fancy headboard above the bed starts to slam against the wall. You watch with blurry eyes as the stock photos hung on the wall shake.
“Said you wanted more baby, ‘m giving you more.” he says before biting into your neck. Hard. You scream, back arching at the pain. Your hands fist the sheets even tighter, knuckles turning white. Suguru unlatches his jaw. Lifting his head to admire his mark. Now all your customers will know you belong to someone. To him. He kisses the mark.
“Sugu, It’s too much. Hurts! m’gonna cum!” You cry, tears soaking the blanket breath you.
“Oh, don't cry baby—shhh—you’re so beautiful y/n. So damn pretty.” He whispers, coaxing you to orgasm. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. You stop breathing for a second as your pussy contracts around Suguru's cock. Suguru follows in suit, spurting his cum deep inside your pussy.
“Fuck,” he draws out, collapsing onto you.
“T-that was—”
“The best sex ‘ve ever had.”
“Same.” You smile before wincing.
“What’s wrong babydoll.”
“You're about to break my damn hip if you keep my legs up any longer,” Suguru lefts himself enough to bring your legs to his sides. “And you probably ripped a chunk of my neck off with that little trick of yours.” You grumble.
“It’s not bad, promise.” He kisses the bite mark softly.
“And all the pictures fell of the wall.”
“I’ll put ‘em back up baby,” He laughs into your ear. “Just let me hold you for a second.” He kisses your cheek before snuggling deeper into you. You throw your arms around his shoulder while you both try to wrap your head around everything that happened.
#𐙚 ࣪ ˖ sugume writes#𐙚 ࣪ ˖ smut journal#geto suguru#geto x reader#jjk geto#geto smut#jujutsu geto#geto scenarios#geto x y/n#geto x you#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
honeysuckle
boyfriend!jungkook, established relationship, smut
summary : according to your boyfriend, a little competition won't hurt anyone especially when the game is his favorite. Making you feel good.
warnings : mature, strong language, heavy on the smut, a little fluff thrown in there, fingering, pussy slapping, he asks for consent, they're freaky, dick piercing, ass slapping, hickeys, sex in a jacuzzi, reverse cowgirl, riding, jungkook wants oc so bad, dirty talk, he calls oc sweetheart, unprotected sex. if i missed something, do let me know.
a/n : hi my loves, here’s your promised smutty treat. tbvh that picture has not left my mind ever since i saw it lmao. I love you guys so so much. You're so loved and cherished. Please don't read this in front of your parents. also @rpwprpwprpwprw was the sweetest to ask for a tag <33 xoxo
"Oh yeah baby, just like that"
"You fuck me so good"
'Take my cock like a good slut you are"
Any other day, you're all about sex positivity and letting your body get what it wants but today of all days, your neighbors want to ruin the peace that you so desperately craved.
Your boyfriend, Jungkook had left early for a business meeting promising you to come back as soon as he gets done with it. As much as you missed him, you had felt the need to have some time for yourself. You thrive on being Jungkook's girlfriend, it's all butterfly in the stomach, princess treatment kind of love but you can't lie about wishing for some alone time just for yourself. Finally, you were getting it. You had it all planned bit by bit.
Step 1 : take an everything shower
Step 2 : cook something delicious for yourself while wave to earth plays in the background
Step 3 : read a romantasy novel you've been anticipating for a long time.
Step 4 : if sleepy, sleep. If not, take out your pink best friend from the bedside drawer and seek your pleasure listening to Jungkook's voice recording you had him record the other day. It always works.
Step 3 and you're already at the verge of giving up. It appears the people next door didn't exactly like your plan and they wanted to make you realize how lonely you are. Screaming at your face, "Haha guess who's not getting a dick". God forbid if a girl wants to have quite and peaceful night while romanticizing the shit out of it.
You slam the book on the bed and sigh. For a second you consider calling Jungkook but stop when you realize that you'll only be hindering his work. What are you even going to tell him? that you can't read because your neighbors have been fucking each other for hours now? No, that's just stupid.
Taking off your reading glasses you make your way to the kitchen. If you can't get sleep tonight, you might as well give them a tough fight. When and if they decide to let their horny asses take a break and decide to doze off, they'd catch on to the fact that there's someone next door whose mama didn't raise a quitter. Immature? you don't think so.
Once the woman's voice on the speaker alerts you that your phone has been connected, you start off with your favorite go to song when you need to cry your eyes out. "Fuck to an emotional song now" you think.
Coming in terms with the fact that you might have to pull an all nighter, you begin making coffee. The word itself brings a smile on your face. Coffee, which got you through your med school. Coffee, which got you Jungkook.
If you really think about it, hadn't you mustered up the courage to go on a solo date that day and have a coffee all by yourself you wouldn't have crossed your paths with him. It's funny actually because how many couples do actually last this long after meeting at a random coffee shop?
After dating douchebags for almost three years you had taken a break from dating all together. It was high time you focused on yourself. Honestly, it's not like they were the only one who was messed up in your previous relationships. You had some parts you had to heal as well and the moment you caught up on that, you went on a journey. Journey to self love, journey to find yourself and a journey which will leave you not perfect but healed.
As for the dimwits you dated in the past, sometimes it was "why do you always have to be like this? how much more space do you need?" or, "What do you mean you don't want to have sex right now? C'mon don't be a spoilsport".
Spoilsport, your ass.
Standing up on your tippy toes, your hands reach out for the coffee container but before you could even settle your foot down on the floor, two arms circle around your waist making you gasp in utter shock.
The need to defend yourself takes so strongly over you that you don't even turn around in order to check the person before your elbow connects with their nose.
When you finally do, you can't stop the scream from leaving your mouth. Your face all red and your eyes as big as saucers.
You panic, "JUNGKOOK?"
When you see blood oozing out of his left nostril after he lifts his face, you mentally curse your sister for forcing you to take self defense classes.
"What's with the song, sweetheart?"
"I told you you were gonna be my death someday but who knew it was gonna be tonight"
After cleaning up his nose and giving him a cup of coffee, you both were now sitting on the couch. You had turned off the music, though. God knew it was not making the situation any better.
You take a sip before speaking, "Oh, don't be dramatic. Who comes home like this and at this hour?"
"My flight was late, sweetheart. I wanted to get to you much sooner but destiny had plans--" he gets cut off as his eyebrows crease in wonder.
"What was that?"
"The neighbors. They have been going at it for hours now" you shake your head in disbelief.
"For hours? That's some stamina I must say" he breaks out in a fit of laughter as you place your cup on the table in front of you.
Turning towards him you ask, "You find this funny? I haven't been able to sleep because of them"
Your voice comes out a bit whiny and you wonder if you're acting a bit childish.
"Oh, sweetheart. How about this, I take a quick shower and we cuddle to sleep" a mixture of warmth and concern crossing his face.
Your smile is wide when you say, "I'd love that"
Jungkook finishes his coffee and pecks your lips as he saunters towards the bathroom. However, when he turns back and says the most unforeseen thing, your silly mind doesn't even think twice.
"Actually, _____. Why don't you join me?"
Bubbles form inside the jacuzzi as smoke fills your surroundings. The smell of warm water hits your nose making it feel tingly. Your stomach is doing summersaults as your boyfriend lets you down inside the water, heart skipping a beat.
Only when Jungkook lets himself sit on the other side of the tub, you can finally take a deep breath. His eyes never leaving yours. When you're with him, there's nothing you care about. Not your horny neighbors, not the world, nothing. It's just him and his presence that lights you up. A smile that could rival the sun.
Him.
Your fingers play with the water as you try to make a conversation. This moment right here, is peak level of intimacy for you. You're both naked, exposed and vulnerable yet you've never felt safer. Not to mention how you feel like a high school girl trying to talk to his crush.
When you were young, the bathroom was the only place you could run and cry in and no one judged you. The four walled room provided more comfort than people in your life. It holds memories but when you moved in with your boyfriend, you left those at your old house. To rot, because what else?
With him, every corner, every space in your house feels pure and blissful. It’s filled with laughter, moans and him.
Jungkook's legs are lightly brushing yours every now and then, the movement sending shivers down your spine. What's happening to you?
"So, how was the business trip?"
"On a scale of one to ten, how funny is it that you wanna talk about business while looking like that and all I wanna do is fuck that sweet mouth of yours because of how much I missed it?"
You shudder, the effect he has on you is beyond belief and now with the expression crossing his face, pure lust and longing, it's as though somebody has set your whole body on fire. A mix of hot and cold feeling running through your veins.
"Jungkook"
"Come here"
"Wh-"
He cuts you off, "Come here, sweetheart. Come to me before I lose my ever loving mind'
You don't have an option other than to scoot your way towards him. He positions your body between his legs, his taut and muscular chest touching your wet back.
Wetness pools between your legs as his hardness presses at your lower hip just above your ass. Your pussy throbs with need and you stop yourself from reaching down to relieve that tension.
His fingers ever so lightly graze over your arm, frequently making drawings on it.
"How long did you say they were going at it?"
You look at him, "About three hours. Why?"
He's up to something. You can feel it in your bones.
"Do you think they're still gonna be able to fuck each other after hearing your screams through the wall, sweetheart?"
Fuck. The idea of making them listen to you while your boyfriend fucks you into oblivion doesn't sound so bad. You missed him, you missed being in his arms and you missed him being inside you as well. So, where's the harm in that?
"You wanna give them a show? Let them know how well your man fucks you?"
The moan that leaves her as she lets her head fall back heavy on his chest tells him everything her words can't.
"Jungkook, please. It's been so long" she cries out.
She stirs making herself more comfortable but that just makes him hiss through his teeth as her ass grazes his cock, the metal on the tip leaving a cool sensation. He's not gonna give in easily though. He will make her earn that release.
His hands cup her tits, fully covering them and they fit so perfectly in his hands. Heavy, full, perfect. As if they're made just for him to suck, him to cup, him to cum on, him to leave purple love bites on.
"I know, sweetheart. Do you wanna know what I kept thinking about while I was away?" his voice trails off, "I kept thinking about how bad I wanna fuck your throat"
The sound that leaves her is filled with need.
"Jungkook, baby please."
He trails his hands down her chest and stomach before it reaches her pussy. Just around her clit. His finger are soft and light, not putting pressure when all she wants is for him to give her the release she so badly craves.
Jungkook's cock is already leaking with precum and his balls ache. He missed his girl so fucking much, so much that he lost count of how many times he had fucked his hand while thinking of her while he was away. When his colleagues saw his flushed face, he had no other option than to blame it on the cold weather.
His finger slide down and back up her slit, making her visibly shiver.
Shit. He's not gonna last long if she keeps making those noises.
"How many finger do you want, _____?" he asks as repeats the same motion.
His mouth comes on her in a searing kiss, it's possessive, passionate, burning and everything nasty. He's straight up claiming her mouth as her tongue tangles with his own.
Pulling back he waits for her response, "Two. Please"
Following her command, his two fingers slide inside her. He tightens the hold on her stomach to have her stay in place when she bucks her hips forward.
She screams.
"That's my girl"
He slides his finger out before sinking it deep inside her cunt again. Crooking them in such a way that he hits her g-spot. Desperate moans fill the room mixing with the steam coming out of the hot water. Her hands ghost over his, fastening his pace.
"You want it faster, sweetheart?"
"Yes, much faster. I wanna cum so bad"
Happy to give her what she wants, he begins rubbing at her clit while his other fingers work their way in and out her wet cunt.
"Oh my fucking god"
"That's right. Get what you want. Such a good girl for me"
He's an animal at this point as he tries to mark her his more than she already is. Jungkook has always been open about sex with his girlfriend, his needs, his wants, his desires and she'd done the same. You compliment each other perfectly. It's easier that way, not leaving any room for doubts.
She like dirty talk, he gives it to her.
When her hips lift forward matching his thrusts, he smirks. Biting her slender neck as she chases her orgasm.
"Aghh"
It finally happens, her hands grasp his even more tightly, other hand gripping the edge of the jacuzzi as she lets out a scream. Her breath fastens as sweat beads her forehead, Jungkook never stopping with his praises.
When she settles back down between his legs, he takes his finger out and sucks them clean. Brown eyes never leaving hers.
"Do you think they heard us, sweetheart?"
Her laughter brings smile to his face, "You're crazy"
"And you're mine" He pecks her cheek, letting his lips linger there for a bit. Basking in the feeling of her love's skin against his lips.
At the beginning of your relationship when you were just getting comfortable with intimacy, jungkook loved kissing her cheek. It was his way of showing her that she's adored by him. Then he realised that quite frankly, it's her. He likes kissing so much because it's her that he's kissing.
He holds her for a while before speaking up, "You wanna help me with a problem?"
He doesn't need to tell her twice but soon as her next words leave her mouth, he takes a double take.
"Sit on the edge and I'll suck you off" he hears her say as she kneels before him.
"Later" he grabs her by her shoulders as he positions her back between his legs. This time facing him.
Her legs wrap around his waist and his thick cock presses against her navel. He knows how badly she wanted to take him into her mouth and he could have let her do that only if he was strong enough to resist himself from sinking deep inside her.
"Now, I wanna fuck you. Raw and nice just like my girlfriend deserves" his voice comes out breathy.
"I love you"
"Me too, sweetheart. More than you know" he assures.
Knowing he can't take it anymore, he lifts her up and sits her body down on his cock. Slowly by slowly as she moans her way through it. ____'s head falls into the crook of his neck and his grip tightens on the curve of her waist. The ampallang piercing multiplies the pleasure tenfold as you both roll your eyes at the back of your head.
Jungkook got madly drunk the other day and came back with a dick piercing which resulted in her getting mad at him and him fucking her to show how good it gets with it.
Having said that, he presses a searing kiss on her lips and his breath knocks out of his chest in the process. It's almost like he's dreaming. The feel of her body on him, his cock deep inside ____, her arms caging him. It all feels surreal. At this point, the neighbors are long forgotten. It's you and him now.
He takes one of her sensitive buds in his mouth, flicking it with his tongue. Moving it in circular motions.
The next few seconds involve him spanking her ass as if he wants to leave marks, him guiding her up and down his cock as she bounces and giving her frequent kisses. Wet slapping noises fill the entire room as his balls ache with need.
"So good, baby. You feel so fucking good. Wrapped around me like this while I fuck you good, huh?" he slaps her pussy lightly.
Thrust Thrust Thrust
As she falls back again into his arms, crying loudly with utter pleasure, he tightens his hold on her body. Hugging her close as both of your heartbeats sync together.
"Thank you for letting me love you, sweetheart. Thank you for coming into my boring ass life and filling it with laughter. Fuck"
Your sweaty and now tired bodies are wrapped around each other as you both revel in the warmth of intimacy.
He lets out a grown followed by her whine and before he can say anything, you’re both cumming together, sighing and kissing as you come down your high.
A chaste kiss is pressed on her forehead, "So perfect, my girl"
"That was…" you bite your lip.
"Amazing, I know" he says as he mindlessly plays with her black locks.
his hands rub her back. "Sweetheart, I want one more from you"
"One more?"
"Yeah, this time I wanna see your beautiful back. Will you do it for me?"
He tries to ask her as gently as possible. Pride filling his chest when he sees her nod.
Guiding her up with the support of her knees he sits her down on his lap, his balls brushing against her clit as he sinks back inside her. A man can only take so much before he snaps. This was the moment for him. His girl's back glistens in the most beautiful way ever. Sweat droplets mixed with water dripping down her spine that he can’t help but kiss.
"Fuck baby, you look like a goddess right now." he halts,
"So warm"
Trailing his hands up the back of her neck he threads his fingers through her hair, gripping it lightly but also putting enough pressure just so she can feel a sweet pain.
His heart skips another beat when she starts moving forward and then backwards, teasing him. Her movements are painfully slow. He wants to ask ____ to move faster but at the same time, he also wants to make this special for her.
So, he waits and watches her back arch as he feels like the luckiest man in the world.
"Jungkook" she moans his name, holding on to his thigh as he pounds into her from the back. It’s even deeper now, his cock hitting places he’d never hit before. Jungkook mentally thanks himself for trying out this new position because he’d just about take any chance to feel more connected to ____.
Just when his stomach contracts and hardens, he asks, "____ I’m gonna need you to spread those ass wider. I’m very close"
When she hums in response he gently pushes her upper body so that it’s flat on his legs, immediately letting him see more of ____'s ass. Her asshole clearly visible to him. It’s such a vulnerable position that you’re both in. Her more than him.
He has to ask her, "Sweetheart, if you don’t feel comfortable we can always stop, alright? You just have to ask"
Her whiney voice reaches his ears, "I’m okay, baby. Just- Just fuck me"
So, he does. His hips thrust forward as he fucks her mercilessly, letting her have the pleasure. She moans, he moans, she cries out, he groans. It’s unbelievably perfect. His hands roam over her smooth back, her ass and even down to her pussy. Both bodies working in a graceful sync.
Suddenly, it’s like the earth comes to a stop. His hands grip his hair while the other one grips hers. His stomach hardens, balls tightening and the moment _____ clenches around his cock, he cums inside of her. Filling her up with hot, white liquid. She follows him soon enough.
"I fucking love this body of yours"
She straightens up and lets her wet body fall heavy on his chest seeking warmth and his arms around her. He’s more than happy to do so. His muscular arms bring her closer to his chest as he relaxes.
Before the next words leave his mouth, he has to make sure ____ is sound asleep.
"I can’t wait to ask you to marry me, sweetheart. I can’t wait to see you in that white dress walking towards me like the angel you are"
He hopes she says yes, he hopes the ring brings the biggest smile on her face.
He hopes.
#jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook#jungkook#jungkook fanfic#bts#jungkook scenario#jungkook smut#jungkook scenarios#jungkook x you#bts x reader#jungkook imagine#bts scenario#bts fanfic#bts scenarios#bts smut#bts jungkook#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook drabble#jungkook series#jeon jungkook x reader#jungkook oneshot#fluff
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
three cents
you butt dial your boss during a girls night … the girls night where you told them you’d fuck aaron hotchner for three cents.
Girls' night out was wild, no one knew where you would end up. One night, you ended up on a boat and the next you were on a train to NYC. After getting thrown in jail with Emily, JJ, and Penelope during another night out, you all vowed to keep whatever happened during the night a secret from everyone, specifically Derek Morgan. Derek Morgan who had bailed all four of you out of jail, Derek Morgan who teased you relentlessly for weeks after.
After a long case, Emily suggested another girl’s night which all of you agreed on, desperately needing a celebratory drink after saving a little girl. It was around one in the morning when you got back to Quantico and though Aaron gave you the day off for tomorrow–or well, later today–all four of you decided to crash at Emily’s and drink to your heart’s content.
Popcorn and Hersey kisses lay on Emily’s coffee table, bottles of half-empty wine and jello shots litter the floor and you’re all giggling about whether to prank Derek by getting phone cases with a picture of him shirtless. You’re all on board and Penelope is getting them custom-made through a website she’s found.
“Speaking of Derek’s abs.” JJ drags the ‘s’ creating a hissing noise. She turns to you, grinning. “I’ve wanted to ask ever since you went to that Doctor Who convention with him. Do you like like Spence?”
You giggled, taking a small sip of wine, thinking about the genius. “Noooo. Spence is my friend. And he runs with his gun like it’s weighing him down. Besides, I only went to that Doctor Who convention because he went to see Barbie with me. He’s, like, too young for me, too.”
“He’s older than you.” Emily points out, smirking, knowing full well you liked older men. “He’s adorable and sweet.”
“Spencer is definitely cute and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t had a sex dream about him,” you confessed, smiling as the girls burst out laughing. “But he’s too … inexperienced. I like my men like I like my wine. Old.”
Your phone had been on mute since you entered the plane, not wanting to abruptly wake anyone up if they were resting, so not a single person in the room had heard your phone ringing or Aaron’s multiple “hello’s” trying to get your attention. All of you were oblivious to your boss listening in to the conversation.
“Is Rossi too old for you?” Penelope asked, inciting another round of giggles.
You nodded, finishing off your glass of wine. “Just a bit. I’ve seen pictures of him when he was in the Marines though, and I definitely would’ve been the fourth Mrs. Rossi back then.”
Emily cackled, a bit of red wine spilling from her full glass. “Okay, I have a question. Would you guys fuck Hotch for ten million dollars? Be honest here.”
“No!” both JJ and Penelope spit out. They all turned to you, grinning like madmen.
You shrugged, filling another glass. “I’d do it for three.”
“Damn, three million? That’s–“
“Nope,” you smirked, taking a sip.
Emily paused, head tilting in confusion. “Three … hundred thousand?”
“No.”
“Three thousand?”
You shake your head, grinning at the confused woman. “Nope.”
“Three hundred?”
“No.”
Emily’s eyes widened, jaw-dropping a little further as you denied her guesses. “Three dollars?”
“No.”
“THREE CENTS?” JJ was the one to shout, mouth dropping open when you giggled and nodded.
Penelope threw a pillow at you, and you giggled, dodging it, nearly spilling your drink in the process. “Hey! This is supposed to be a judge-free zone. I’d suck and fuck Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner for three measly cents.”
“Okay, I’d understand if you said Derek but Hotch?” Emily exclaimed, shaking her head at the thought. “He’s like twenty years older than you!”
“Exactly! That’s part of the appeal,” you replied. You were sure by tomorrow no one would remember your confession–though you were positive you wouldn’t either–and that they wouldn’t tease you too much over it. “He’s the literal definition of a DILF.”
The girls laughed at your words, JJ having to clutch onto a pillow to control herself.
“And!” you continue. “I was working out with Derek once and Hotch came in the gym with gray sweats and his dick looks humongous. It was a huge fucking bulge. I think I saw it twitching.”
Penelope slaps her hands over her ears, playfully grimacing at your words while Emily chugs the remains of her glass, absolutely baffled. You didn’t mind, sex and boys were common conversation topics during girl’s night (and sometimes when Emily would catch you making eyes at someone.
The rest of the night continued the same, though less talk about Hotch’s big dick and more on whether you all should make more jello shots. By the time you’re coming up with an answer, it’s five in the morning and all four of you are knocked out from the alcohol in your system. Even in your drunk state, you knew you’d wake up to a pounding headache.
When Derek calls in the morning, telling everyone about a new case, you’re all moody and grumpy. Hotch wanted everyone in even though he had given the day off, so no one was jumping for joy especially not in your hangover state.
Despite drinking the most, Emily drives the four of you back to the BAU, mumbling obscenities under her breath on the way. When you enter the elevator, Derek is there, causing all of you to groan at his presence. One look at you and he laughs loudly, knowing what had transpired the night before.
You wish you could shoot his foot.
In the briefing room, Hotch apologizes for having you all come in on your day off, pausing to glance at you before presenting the case. Truth be told, you hadn’t paid that much attention to it, your headache taking up your attention. Fire, serial arsonist, fifteen dead, Seattle.
“Wheels up in thirty,” Hotch announces, walking across the table. As the team filters out of the room, he calls your name. “In my office, please. I want to discuss something with you.”
Confused, you follow him to his office, pushing through your headache to think about what he could possibly want to speak to you about. You come up blank, even more confused when you see him lock the door to his office as you enter. “Did I do something wrong?”
Hotch shook his head, moving past you to his desk. He picks up something and turns around. In his hands are three pennies, and he’s holding them out to you. “Three cents.”
You’re getting deja vu on the words, and it’s not until several seconds of standing in silence and confusion that it clicks. Three cents. You blush, looking at the pennies. “I don’t understand.”
“You said you’d suck and fuck me for three cents,” he smirks at your shock, placing the coins in your hands.
“What–”
Hotch unbuckles his belt, causing you to stop mid-sentence. “You’ve got twenty-eight minutes to suck my cock. Get to work.”
8K notes
·
View notes
Note
i'm a big fan of your writing! can i ask what made simon want to mail order a bride in the first place? thanks <3
mail-order bride
he's tired of staring across his dinner table and seeing nothing but empty space.
it isn't something he had thought about in the before. he's spent a long time shifting between different cots, collecting sand from faraway places and counting the bodies he dropped with tally marks against his boots.
there's a picture he keeps tucked into his vest, but he won't take it out. it sits heavy there, an invisible wall between himself and the outside world, a reality that he chooses not to believe. if he doesn't look at them, he won't think of them, and if he doesn't think of them, maybe he can pretend they were never even real.
they all have something outside of here. his sergeants are too pretty and too outgoing to stick around; they're social butterflies, and simon has seen the shuffle of pictures of some pretty girl that gaz can't stop staring at, and soap never shuts up--whenever they have a signal, he's somehow got a phone call with his cousin's stepfather's little sister, or it's his second cousin's brother-in-law's birthday, and he's got to wish him well since he missed his art exhibition last month.
even price has a pale circular shadow that is stained onto his ring finger.
it's not his fault, is it? it's not his fault he was dealt the worst fucking hand. it wasn't his fault he was born already two feet into the grave; it couldn't have been his fault that he can only get a good night's sleep when there's screaming in one ear or the rattle of a battlefield over his head.
it isn't his fault. it isn't his fault. it isn't his fault.
the cigarettes taste bland today. they're old, stale, and he can taste the bitterness already, but he lights it anyways, flicking ash into the ground, scrunching his nose until he gets used to the bite of it.
there's a shadow at his side, and he turns to snap at them, assuming it's johnny and his incessant nagging, but he holds his tongue when he realizes it's his captain.
he's got a warm cigar in one hand, and he leans against the concrete wall beside him, sighing deep, the kind of pensive weight that only a captain can bear.
price looks tired. he needs to go home.
"boys invited y'out, didn't they?" price asks, and simon chuckles lowly.
"'m olready 'ome," simon murmurs. "'n i can get piss drunk oll on my own 'ere."
price shrugs.
"ya haven't taken leave since you joined my team, simon," he says low. "can't have that. you know it."
simon shrugs.
"can try and make me go," simon tells him. "but y'know i won't leave."
"i'm not asking, simon," price says firmly. "'m telling."
"doesn't matter," simon takes a long drag of the cigarette, holding it in for a second too long before letting it out slow. "got nowhere ta go."
his captain is not blind. simon's on a one-way road, and the end of it stops at the end of someone else's gun. men like simon, the ones who have nothing to lose, they're dangerous. they clear rooms outnumbered thirty to one because no one thinks they can. they hit targets from thousands of yards away because it's the only place that never changes. they kill and sleep peacefully because the blood of a stranger is far cleaner than that of someone they know, of someone they love.
they'll never leave because war is familiar. they don't want to go home because home isn't something they know. they're nomads, taking with them only what they can carry, because the rest is baggage and an emotional weight that they aren't strong enough to carry.
but it doesn't mean men like simon don't want. it doesn't mean they don't wish for more. it doesn't mean they don't think about using their teeth for something other than baring them to show their dominance, their aggression, their insecurity.
simon's a protector. the way he shoves his men behind him says so. the steadiness of his voice over comms when the op goes to shit. the ease of his hand when he ties a tourniquet. the split second that simon never wastes, the way he uses his body as armor and the look he gives his men when they're scared. simon's died twice before, and the look in his eyes tells them that this isn't it, that this isn't death, because he'd fucking know--he'd recognize it if he saw it.
simon's unrelenting. his past, his trauma, it's tried to beat him into a shape that will bend and snap, but its obvious simon is not made of lead--fuck, he's an entire block of unmovable steel. he does not give when compressed, he does not crack when the strength of him is tested. simon's fought too hard to live to let a gun terrify him, he's endured too much torture to flinch when someone sinks a blade into his chest.
but he knows, simon knows, that there is something missing. he fought hard to live, but for what? he's endured, but what the fuck is there when he lays his head down at night?
simon's a lover. he tries so hard to convince himself that he's always been this way--alone, drifting, lost, but it's a lie. simon knows what it's like to want. he knows what it's like to look into a crowd and hope you see a familiar face. he understands wanting to pull that string taut, but he also understands what it can do to you. what it can take from you.
he understands what you can never get back.
he thinks this is a bad idea. he crumples the note paper in his hand that had the address scribbled onto it, tearing it, staring up at the house in front of him. it's quaint, a lovely little house in the outskirts of london, with a red chimney and overturned planters in the yard. there's a weathered wooden door, a porch step that needs fixing, and when he kicks open the door, he grimaces seeing a carpet that need's replacing.
"the fuck am i doin' 'ere?" he whispers to himself, sliding his mask off, running a hand over his face. his heart is pounding, but he's not sure why, but he catches his reflection in the window. what looks back at him terrifies him--he can't do this.
he makes his way back outside, rummaging through his pockets for a cigarette. he takes a seat on the steps, lighting it, and as he takes his first frantic drag, he sees the torn pages of the note still on the ground. he picks up one end of it, running his thumb over the crumpled paper there, smudging the pencil scribble there.
she needs you
it's written in price's ugly handwriting, letters all tilted to the side and barely legible, but he still can read what price didn't write--and you need her.
but simon doesn't need anyone. he barely needs himself, barely can take care of himself. this won't help him--he can't help anyone, he isn't the kind that can be this kind of thing for anyone. he's stayed in the service because at least this way, he can die with honor, he can prove them all wrong, he can at least be remembered for what he could do and not by what was done to him.
his touch is ice. his heart is buried too deep under his ribs; no one has seen it since he could finally register a memory. his face, the skin he wears--he's not a pretty man, he's a forgettable one. he isn't gentle, he isn't capable of it. he can't forgive. he's so quick to anger, likes to snap his teeth, and he cannot be the kind of thing that they all expect him to be.
he does not love himself. he will not love himself. so he cannot love another.
there is a certain kind of satisfaction he feels when he fixes the porch step. once abandoned, once a nuisance, and now it functions as intended. he feels the same kind of thing when he rips up the stained carpet, and he feels it again when he watches the seeds of the thyme leaves grow as they rest in a pot above the sink.
things once forgotten serve a purpose. with effort, they can be used again. they don't have to be replaced, they can be open anew, they can live again and breathe deeper and see through the lens of a different perspective.
when you climb the porch steps the first time, he thinks about the board that doesn't wobble any longer. when the door shuts behind you for the first time and you take off your boots, he thinks about the new carpet that warms your toes now.
and when you lay next to him for the first time, under the covers of the bed he's made, he reaches over and slips a few fingers around your wrist, thumbing at the base of it and swallowing hard when he feels the pulse of your heartbeat. it beats, warm and steady, to a beat familiar, one he knows. his heart has not been hiding under thick bone and the tar of his own blood.
it's here now. under your skin. and now it's home.
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost mw2#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost mwii#ghost x reader#cod#call of duty#order up
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Danny hadn't ever been on this side of the equation before.
He stared at his old phone, the prickle of unease scratching at his neck.
Danny was the one that died. He was the one that died and came back. He'd never asked anyone how it had felt to see him die over and over again to become Phantom. Danny was starting to think that maybe he should have, if only so that he wouldn't be blindsided about what he felt now.
"Danny? Y'okay?"
Danny glanced up at the mumbled words, numbed eyes looking at Jason's sleep-heavy face.
"Hm?"
"Ya've been lookin' at that thing for an hour now. You good?"
Danny blinked at him, like the world was a sea of bittersweet molasses and he was the sailor drowning beneath its waves. "...Remember how I told you that you reminded me of my sister?"
There was apprehension on Jason's face now. It was a gentle kind of apprehension, softened by worry and love.
“Yeah…?”
Danny gestured for Jason to come closer. He opened the phone and tapped on Jazz.
“Woah. She kinda looks like me.” Jason tugged at his black hair. “Y’know, if I kept my red hair.”
Danny smiled, sad and tired. “Yeah. She really liked reading. And she always wanted to know more. Help more. Like you,” Danny’s eyes laid on the folded uniform of Robin on the kitchen table. He hugged Jason closer. “You remind me of her.”
“What… what happened to her?”
Danny hadn’t cried for a long, long time. Even when Jazz spoke to him in half remembered whispers and in Jason’s actions, he could not shed a tear. But something about today, something about those pictures, opened up a poorly scabbed wound and Danny’s face dripped with slow tears.
“She died,” he whispered. “I brought the vigilante life to her and she died protecting me.”
“Oh. That’s why you were so mad, then.” Jason looked down at the picture, blue eyes tracing the face of the woman that looked so similar to him.
“Yeah.”
“I won’t die, Danny,” Jason promised.
"Don't make promises you can't keep, Jay." Danny squeezed Jason's shoulders before wiping away his tears. He inhaled, a slow, shuddering breath, before straightening. "You are so grounded."
"But- Robin!"
"Jason will always come before Robin. And Jason is grounded because Jason lied to me about being Robin and where he was going and whether or not he was safe."
And really, wasn't that the crux of the issue? Danny didn't have any problem with Jason going out and starting fights. He had no problem with how Jason wanted to help. But the thought of loosing him- loosing his loved ones after only learning to keep them clutched to his heart before he looses them- drove Danny down a spiral that he could not afford to enter again.
How many times had Danny almost lose Jason? How many times did he come to loosing the only good thing in Gotham? How many times had he laid asleep, not knowing whether Jason was bleeding out in an alley somewhere? How close had Danny come to waking up to news of Jason's cold corpse?
It made him furious. More than that, it made him terrified. Never in his half life had he ever been afraid to this extent. Not even for Jazz. It made him want to drown the feeling with enough booze to down a speedster. But he couldn't. Not now, not with Jason. His little brother deserved better than that. Not to mention the shit his little brother would get up to if he weren't fully there.
"But first, you gotta help me with something."
"... Fine."
Danny got up and bee-lined towards his booze stash. They're going out. Right now. He shoved the bottles into a tote bag.
"Let's go. We're destroying this."
"We are?"
"I can't be drunk and teach you how to vigilante."
"You're okay with me being Robin?" Hesitant blue eyes peered up at him. Danny's heart melted, the traitorous little shit.
"Not really. But I can't stop you, so I might as well make sure you live past 25." He jabbed Jason's forehead. "And I'll be reaming out Batman the next time he swings by, now that I'm not pissed as hell. I'll make sure it hurts."
"He's not that bad."
Danny sent him an unimpressed look and Jason mimed zipping his mouth closed, twisiting an imaginary key and throwing it over his shoulder. The little shit thinks he's got jokes. (He does, but Danny's supposed to be mad with him right now, so he'll never admit he thinks Jason's funny.)
They walked out of the apartment complex and turned to the right, right into the alley.
Did his heart give a little twinge every time Jason tossed the booze? Yes. But the hopeful thrill in his little brother's countenance made up for every single penny he spent.
"So... How long am I grounded for?"
At the reminder, Danny's hands clamped around one of the last bottles a little harsher than necessary.
"You... are grounded for- till college." He gritted out, tossing the bottle.
Jason's horrified "For- till college?!" rang nicely against the shattering of Danny's booze. Danny grinned and gave Jason a noogie.
"For till college," He affirmed, joking tone making Jason grumble, struggling to get out of the hold. "Or, for like, a week."
---
"Hey, Danny?"
Danny grunted, rousing slightly from his nap on the couch. They had been watching a show in the middle of Jason's grounding when he had drifted off.
"Did I ever tell you I had a brother?"
Danny's eyes flew open. "... No. Do you want to?"
Danny swiveled his head to look at Jason, who sat with his back against the couch and his head set aglow by the light of the TV. He looked... sad. Lonely.
"His name was Danny too."
Danny's heart shot right up to his throat. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. He died." Danny couldn't help the thought that passed him. Me too, buddy, me too. "I thought you were him. 'S why I talked ta ya, even if y're drinkin'."
Danny tilted his head back, silently closing his eyes in grief. It was fate, that wily Ancient.
"Is that... bad?"
"Nah. You're as good a brother as he was."
"Thank you for telling me, Jason."
"Whatever."
Danny laid back down, the thread of a memory all but confirming his theory.
"Come on, Danny-o, Jazz was being a good sister!"
Five year old Danny pulled the blanket up to his chin, pouting. His mother laughed.
"That's right, sweetie. She was trying to make sure you didn't get sick."
"I don't want Jazz! I want- I want a brother instead!"
His parents exchanged amused looks. "Well, Danny-o, you almost had a brother."
"Really?" Danny turned around, curious.
"Really. If Jazz was a boy, we would have named him Jason!" His dad laughed, ruffling his hair.
Danny wrinkled his nose. "Ew. I like Jazz better... oh."
1K notes
·
View notes