#I took a day off tomorrow decided right now
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misericordieux · 3 months ago
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Can’t sleep I am having a flare up because I ate processed food today…
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autumnscribbles · 16 days ago
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truth | rc
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pairing: bsf!rafe x reader, rafe x sofia
summary: y/n overhears sofia and hollis unintentionally, and as rafes friend decides to tell him
warning: swearing, that’s about it i think
wc: 1.8k
a/n: thank you to the anon who sent this in! i’m loving the rafe angst lately, i’ve been having so much fun getting back into writing!! I legit couldn’t think of a title so for now there isn’t one lmaooo
part 2
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘
The fresh night air filled your lungs as you took a deep breath. You always loved walking at night. The air always felt better, the way everything quieted and slowed down always brought you peace. You loved to sit on the dock, listening to the crash of the waves. You watched the stars, mentally pointing out your favorite constellations as you spotted them.
You were brought out of your trance by a familiar voice coming from one of the boats in your vicinity.
“How much?”
You turned your head, leaning your body to try to get a good view. You spotted Sofia, sitting on a boat with that blonde lady you saw the other day. What was her name again? Holly?
“25, dear,” she said. “No questions asked.”
You slowly rose to your feet, trying to get a better view and be more in earshot. You had to stop your jaw from dropping when you heard the conversation. Twenty five grand for Sofia to convince Rafe to take the Goat Island deal. The well put together woman tried to make it same like it was for Rafe’s benefit, but you could tell by Sofia’s reactions that it wasn’t. She just wanted the money, she didn’t care how.
“What the fuck,” you whispered to yourself.
You saw Holly…Hollis! That’s what it was! She handed something to Sofia, and you caught a glimpse of what looked like cash inside. The conversation started wrapping up and you quickly picked up your pace, walking in the opposite direction and off the dock so neither of them saw you.
The sound of your shoes on the pavement sounded too loud in your ears as you hurried back to your house. You knew you weren’t supposed to overhear the conversation, but what were you supposed to do with that information now that you had it? You had to tell Rafe, right? He was your friend. You couldn’t let him get screwed over, especially not when he thought Sofia had good intentions.
You sat on the edge of your bed, breathing shallow as you went over everything you heard. You let out a mix of a sigh and a groan as you flopped onto your back, staring at the ceiling. You’d sleep on it, and decide how to go about telling Rafe tomorrow. You were supposed to meet him at the beach, maybe you could catch him alone before that.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘
The sun was bright and unforgiving, your eyes squinting automatically as you walked down the street. You decided you’d meet Rafe at his place before going down to the beach together. You needed to catch him alone.
You already felt the sweat forming on your forehead as you approached his front door, knocking urgently. When he didn’t answer, you knocked again. Eventually, the door flung open, his eyes half closed once the sun hit his face.
“Can you chill out?” he groaned, shielding the sun with his hand.
You could tell he had just woken up. Usually you’d feel bad, but honestly, you didn’t care. You needed to talk to him, to tell him what you heard and saw last night.
“Rafe I need to tell you something,” you said. “It’s important.”
He groaned slightly before stepping aside, silently inviting you in. He disappeared for a minute or two, arriving back with two mugs of coffee in his hand. You let him take a few sips, waiting for the caffeine to be in him before you started explaining. He needed to be alert and awake when he heard it.
“I was out at the dock last night, just clearing my head,” you started. “And I overheard something I think you should know.”
He stared at you, urging you to continue. His bright blue eyes were fixated on you now, fully awake.
“I saw Sofia and…Hollis?” it came out as more of a question. “I heard Hollis telling Sofia that she would give her 25 grand to convince you to sign the deal.”
“What?” Rafe said, his eyebrows ruffling together and his head shaking as he set his mug down on the coffee table beside him. “You must have misheard.”
“I saw Sofia take the money, Rafe,” you sighed. “I’m sorry, I know you really like her and everything but I really thought you should know and-”
“Just stop, y/n!” Rafe cut you off, raising a hand as if to pause you. “Spare me the fucking dramatics. Why are you trying to fuck with me?”
His jaw clenched, twitching as if he was biting his tongue. You hit a nerve, you could tell. You sat up a bit straighter, trying to show that you were serious. He wasn’t believing you. He didn’t want to think you might be right.
“I’m not!” you protested. “I just thought you should know. I think this Goat Island thing is sketchy, and she’s in on it.”
“Are you seriously that fucking jealous?” he asked, his voice raising as he stood up, towering over you. “You seriously can’t handle the thought of me being happy with someone so much that you have to make shit up?”
“Rafe this isn’t about Sofia!” you defended, standing up to match him. “I want you to be happy, but I can’t not let you know she’s being shady behind your back!”
“No, you know what y/n?” he asked, not waiting for the answer. “I’ve waited for you forever. Just waiting for the day you finally give me the time of day. For once, my attention is on someone other than you. And you can’t fucking handle it.”
You took a step back, your mouth opening slightly. You were at a loss for words. He really thought this was a jealousy issue? That you made up a whole complex story just because you don’t like Sofia? Sure, you were a little hurt when they got together. She was beautiful, and kind, and there were moments you wished he looked at you the way he looked at her. But this wasn’t about hurting her, or getting your way.
“You just loooooved pulling me around behind me like your puppy,” he continued, matching your step back with one forward. His voice lowered and his eyes narrowed, meeting your gaze. “You loved holding me close. You know how I feel for you, and you love it, y/n. You love the attention and you love how you can use it to your advantage.”
“Are you hearing yourself?” you screamed. “You’re fucking delusional Rafe. I’m trying to tell you something serious and you think this is just a love triangle? A lovers quarrel?”
“Stop messing with my head!” he shouted, tapping his temples with his index fingers. “That’s all you do, is fuck with my head! All the time!”
Your mind was reeling. Is that how he felt? Like you were just stringing him along. You never knew Rafe saw you as anything other than a friend. If you weren’t so focused on trying to tell him the truth, you would have held on longer to what he said about waiting for you. Did he mean he had feelings for you all this time? You always buried your feelings for Rafe, pretending they didn’t exist. It was easier that way. Easier to accept you’d never be together.
Rafe had always made your heart flutter, but the baggage that came with him often kept you at a distance when it came to getting closer. He was your friend, you cared for him. You never told him about how you truly felt, because you knew it would likely be a bad idea to be romantically involved. You assumed he’d never feel that way about you anyway, so you buried the hatchet.
“Fine,” you exhaled. “Don’t come to me when you find out your little girlfriend screwed you over. It’s your 400k, not mine.”
Trying to keep up an air of strength, you clenched your jaw. You wouldn’t cry, you wouldn’t react emotionally. He’ll find out the truth eventually, the truth always comes out. He’d admit you were right if you gave it time.
Until then, you walked out his door, leaving it open behind you. His earlier words still coursed through your mind. The mean ones, and the ones about his feelings for you, but as always, you swept them under the rug. You couldn’t face the truth yourself.
You felt something tug at your wrist, turning around to meet Rafe’s blue eyes once again. You thought they looked glossier, a sheen over them. Was he tearing up? No way, Rafe Cameron never cries. Not over this.
“Y/n,” he said lowly, a stark contrast from his previous shouting. “Tell me the fucking truth. Are you just saying this to fuck with me and make me question my relationship with Sofia?”
“No, Rafe,” you said honestly. “I know what I saw. This isn’t some ploy to get you to break up with her or be with me instead. I’m just trying to protect you.”
It was the truth. Despite how you felt about Rafe, you wanted the best for him. If Sofia was what was best, you’d support it. You almost wished you hadn’t seen what you saw at the dock. That way, you wouldn’t have to insert yourself in their relationship at all. You could continue to stand on the sidelines, watching his life pass with you becoming less and less present.
“Protect me,” he scoffed, mocking your words.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked harshly.
“Protect me from what, huh? My little poor heart being hurt?” he asked sarcastically. “It’s too late for that, y/n. You can’t protect me from anything when you’re part of the problem.”
You shook your head at him, at a loss for words. He clearly wasn’t done speaking, but you ran out of snarky retorts. You felt like you had whiplash from all the directions this conversation was going. He stared at you for a moment, his mouth slightly open, his hands running over his newly buzzed hair. You heard him release a quiet sigh, his head hanging down.
“No one will ever be good enough in your eyes,” he said, looking back up at you. “Not Sofia, and not me. I was never good enough for you, and Sofia isn’t good enough for me. So you can’t protect me from ‘heartbreak’, y/n. Because you are the problem.”
He pointed a finger at you, his teeth clenched together as the words left his lips. He turned around swiftly and walked back into his house, slamming the door behind him. Unable to process what just happened, you stared blankly in his direction, met with nothing but the front of his house. By trying to help, you somehow managed to make things so much worse, and so complicated.
“Now what?” you said to yourself under your breath.
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sleepyjuice · 4 months ago
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toxic!rafe will blow your phone up the second you post something on instagram that he’s ‘iffy’ about.
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you posted a photo dump which consisted of some random photos of the beach, some of your friends, one of you and rafe of course, but the one that had rafe seeing red was the last slide, which was you in a bikini. he texted you several times at first, and while you were literally typing your response, he called you. your fingers were typing so fast to respond to him that you accidentally declined the call, and he did not like that. you immediately went to call him back, but another text from rafe rolled in, saying ‘fuck you don’t talk to me we’re done’ you sighed loudly, knowing damn well he was talking out of his ass right now, so you sat back and waited for the inevitable next string of texts to roll in. which they did, only seconds later.
rafe <3: do you get off on making me mad or something
rafe <3: like i’m racking my brain trying to understand why you do the things you do and that’s all i can come up with
rafe <3: and i see at least 4 guys have already liked your post like that’s crazy to me?? thought i told you to block all the guys that followed you?? of course you didn’t
rafe <3: also who even took that pic of you??? bc i know damn well it wasn’t me so who the fuck you posing for with your fucking ass and tits out? WHAT THE FUCK
rafe <3: DO NOT PUT YOUR SHIT ON DO NOT DISTURB answer me rn.
rafe <3: nah it’s cool actually i’m gonna go hit up my other gfs so you have a good night.
you rolled your eyes at that last text, deciding to fully turn your phone off. you knew he would likely try to text or call you again very soon but you didn’t want to deal with it right now. this wasn’t your first rodeo, you knew nothing you could say to him right now would calm him down, so letting him freak out on his own was the best method to his madness.
three hours had passed since you turned your phone off. you had caught up on some reading and turned on your current favorite show, but found yourself interrupted by a knock at your front door. you expected it to be rafe, but instead it was a large bouquet of your favorite flowers and a gift bag. you glanced around to see if rafe was lurking around, but saw nothing. when he freaked out over text and was able to reread his actions, he usually waited a bit longer to show his face as opposed to a verbal argument.
you brought the flowers inside and set them on the counter before grabbing the card attached to the side of the bouquet.
sorry we argued. you are so beautiful and i love you so much. got you a little gift and sent you some money for food and i set your appointment with your nail girl for tomorrow at 10. love you forever baby -rafe
you couldn’t help but smile just a little. the flowers were beautiful and the note was pretty sweet, so you chose to ignore the part where he said ‘we argued.’ you didn’t get a word in, but you let it slide. especially after you opened the gift bag to see the new dior bag you had been wanting.
you hurried to turn on your phone, immediately seeing a $500 apple payment from rafe as well as a new text from a few minutes ago.
rafe <3: hope you like the flowers and bag baby. love you! :)
you: i love them. thanks rafe, love you too
rafe <3: good to hear. lmk what you end up getting for dinner and i’ll pick you up tomorrow to take you to your nail apt. can’t wait to see you baby
you would order yourself dinner that was obviously way less than $500, but you would send rafe a picture and thank him again. you’d facetime him before bed and conversation flowed like nothing had even happened just hours before. he’d ask you what color nails you were getting, tell you funny stories about the old men at the country club and excitedly plan what you two were going to do the next day. the cycle seemed like it would never end, but you often forgot about the bad when he was talking so sweetly to you and all you could think about was how excited you were to see him tomorrow.
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ssahotchnerr · 29 days ago
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aaron’s wife going into labor on his birthday or the day before and gives birth on his birthday?
only more reasons to celebrate
happy birthday aaron 🥰 & the abridged version of ellie's debut!! (now it's official she and aaron share a birthday <3) cw; fem pregnant!reader, (sad) references to 9x5 and takes place end of 9x6, vague childbirth talk with no specific details, fluff!!! wc; 1.3k
"Happy almost birthday. I'll keep it on the DL." You heard Penelope utter to Aaron, faintly as she walked past him.
"Thank you." He replied, finding your eyes and offering a wink.
Come tomorrow, he was confident it would be anything but on the down low. He knew you, and although you were about ready to pop, you would go all out for him as much as you possibly could.
And he was right - you and Jack had already planned his day out to a T, beginning with a birthday banner and all.
"Okay everybody, I guess it's time-" Penelope spoke to the group, embracing her role as hostess, holding the team's very first Day of the Dead party.
You smiled to yourself at their brief exchange, your eyes flicking between the two of them. Your heart warmed, especially when Aaron sidled alongside you, a hand finding your lower back.
After the last few weeks, after what Aaron had endured, there was only more of a reason to celebrate. His close proximity; the heat radiating from his body, the smell of his cologne, choked you up immediately.
Sole reminders he was in fact, here.
Undergoing emergency surgery, fighting for his life - all of which nearly sent you into an early labor - once again he had defied all odds. It could've been very likely you could've been celebrating his birthday without him, talking to him through a candle as he and Jack did to Haley.
You immediately pushed the thought from your mind. It petrified you. Losing him. Bringing your baby into the world without him. Jack losing another parent. Life without Aaron. You couldn't afford to think like that.
And now, with that in the past, it finally felt as if life were settling back down. As much as it could, at least. The newest Hotchner addition soon to make their arrival into your family.
"Hey," You said softly, mumbling underneath Penelope's spiel. "I love you."
His hand moved from your back to your shoulder, offering a comforting squeeze. "I love you."
But despite your want for a bit of normalcy, it was interrupted by twinge erupting in your body. It wasn't your first little pang either, but you figured - it couldn't be. Not yet.
JJ, on the other hand, was keyed in onto you. She's been studying you all night long, throughout all of Penelope's planned extravaganzas - appetizers, the remembrances, enjoying the party. From every movement, reaction, facial expression.
It wasn't until the strongest contraction hit, and when you were beginning to seriously question it. She, out of all people, would know. She nearly did the same thing herself.
"What?" You innocently asked, despite the fact you knew, as her intensifying stare hadn't lifted from you in a fair few minutes. You flinched slightly, pain written across your face. You lowered your hand, deciding against the hors d'oeuvres you had been reaching for.
"How far apart are they?"
That was all JJ had to say, causing an instant standstill in the room. Aaron's eyes widened as they shot to you, realization filling them within a second. The rest of the team's conversations came to a halt, anticipating eyes on you. An excited squeal escaped Penelope.
Everything after that was a blur. Aaron getting you to the car in a frenzy; a very calm, and collected frenzy. Getting to the hospital, checking in, and experiencing the highs and lows of childbirth. At one point, you certainly cut off the circulation in Aaron's hand.
Come mid morning and an epidural later, she was here.
"Sorry for overshadowing your birthday." You took a break from admiring the little one swaddled in your arms to glance at your husband. It was hard to tear your gaze away. She was perfect.
And not only did you feel an outpouring amount of love for her, but Aaron as well. Viewing him in a different, lovingly light. It felt as if your chest could burst with infatuation. She was half you, half him. The two of you brought this bundle of joy into the world, together.
"Are you kidding?" Aaron gave you an almost offended look from where he was seated beside you, before a smile overtook his face. He pressed a kiss to your temple, gazing at your daughter too. "This is easily, easily the best birthday I could ever imagine. You've given me the greatest gift. Thank you for making it even more special, sweetheart."
The happiness on your face grew, and he immediately gave you a kiss. You could feel his smile.
"Thank you for making me a Dad again."
Later in the day, Jack's head poked through the crack of the door, a grinning Jessica behind him.
"Hey," Aaron beckoned the two of them in, both entering slowly. Jess had a plastic tray of cupcakes in hand. Celebrations were in order, times two.
"Hi Mom, Dad."
Jack hesitantly approached, surprisingly shy. You imagined Jessica had given him the quiet talk on the way up. Either that, or maybe he was still a bit weary from when he visited Aaron in the hospital a few weeks ago - there was the smallest bit of worrisome furrowed in his brows.
Jess stepped off to the side, allowing the four of you to have your moment.
"Hi buddy." You greeted as your eyes immediately welled up, the emotion clear in your voice; overwhelmed from enduring childbirth, your hormones everywhere, and the pure happiness coursing through your veins. "Wanna meet your sister?"
It was surreal too; Jack finally meeting his little sibling. After months of excitement, preparation, talks of what life would be like with a new addition. The time had finally arrived.
Right now. Right now was the beginning of their bond that was sure to be the most special thing.
"Sister?" His face lit up, any remaining hesitations aside as he made it to your bedside, attempting to lean over to get a clearer view. "She's a girl?"
"Here, careful." Aaron's hands extended forward, helping him onto the hospital bed. You were sore, multiple IVs were poking into you, and to make certain the baby wasn't disrupted by any of the movement.
Jack nestled gently into your side, peering at her in absolute awe. The smallest of breaths left him, you could feel his exhale on your arm. "I can't believe that's really her. She's so tiny."
"Isn't she? Can you believe you were this small once?" You asked, adjusting the blanket to expose a bit more of her face. At the action, Aaron's posture straightened, ready to assist if needed, or to simply do it for you. He was definitely worried you'd somehow overexert yourself. "Are you up for holding her?"
Jack's expression widened, nodding vigorously as Aaron did help this time - moving her from your arms to his, and ensuring the back of her head was supported. The classic pillow-under-the elbow strategy.
Once settled, her eyes opened for a moment, blinking up at her big brother, as if she knew she was being held by him. Jack's gaze lifted in shock, glancing between you and Aaron. Once again, cue your tears.
"What's her name?"
"Eleanor." Aaron answered proudly, another smile tugging on his lips. You met his gaze, grinning.
"She shares a birthday with you Dad." Jack stated, using the side of his index finger to brush her cheek. "That's so cool. You guys are like twins."
"Yeah well, we'll see how much Eleanor likes it as she gets older."
You playfully rolled your eyes, your reaction causing a chuckle to exit Aaron. His hand found the back of your head, lovingly smoothing your hair down.
"It's very cool." Aaron still confirmed, his heart full. "I was just telling Mom, this is one the best presents I could ever receive."
"And two birthdays mean two birthday cakes." Jack looked up at his father, grinning from ear to ear. "Ellie will love it."
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rambling-at-midnight · 3 months ago
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Please Come Home
Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader
Summary: You never realized how many places there were to hide in your apartment, but you’re pretty sure someone else is in here with you. Whatever they want isn’t good.
Word count: 3.3k
TW: home invasion, violence, curses as insults
Your spare key is missing.
Fuck. You always keep it in this drawer. Where the fuck is it?
When you told Jason he could just grab your keys to take your car instead of his bike to the store, you’d been relying on using your spare to lock up the apartment when you left for work. You never, ever moved it, but it was gone all the same. Did he take it instead of your keychain? Nope, that’s missing from its hook next to the front door.
When was the last time you used it? Not too long ago. Had you been careless about putting it back?
You text Jason, Did you grab my spare key?
Shit. You had to leave for work, like, five minutes ago, and you have no key to lock the front door.
At least you have a fire escape. You bolt the door from the inside, then slip out the window. You can’t latch it from the outside, but it’s a little harder to break in through the window than the front door.
You’re only two minutes late to your waitressing shift. Your manager swipes you in, lets you know that a server called out so you’ll be handling two sections today, and the host runs up to tell you that you’ve already been sat.
In the middle of the shift, when you have a minute to catch your breath, you check your phone. Jason had texted, No, I took your keychain. Is your spare missing?
I think I lost it.
I’ll look for it when I come home before patrol. Will I see you before heading out?
Not looking like it. Things haven’t slowed down at all.
I’ll see you when I get home, then. Don’t wait up.
I’ll have dinner in the fridge when you get back. Gotta get back to work. Love you
I love you, too.
A couple hours later, Jason texts that he has no luck locating your spare. Since he’s paranoid, he’s going out for a new lock tomorrow, but there’s important business with a drug ring that he can’t miss tonight.
That’s okay. It’ll be a pain to climb up the fire escape, but you don’t really mind that much. You’ve been meaning to get more exercise, anyway.
You finish work at six and the walk back to your apartment building is pretty peaceful. Unusual for Gotham.
It lulls you into a false sense of security.
You’re not really in the mood for leftovers, and not really in the mood to cook. You stare between your phone and the pantry. Takeout is easy. So is pasta.
With a sigh, you decide to spare your bank account. Delivery fees are getting ridiculous nowadays.
You text Jason just to see how his night is going. You’re not sure he’ll respond; sometimes, like during stakeouts, he turns his phone off completely so the sound or vibrate doesn’t reveal his presence. He doesn’t respond after a minute, which means he’s busy. You sigh and set down your phone, then change into comfier clothes. As soon as you’re out of your room, you grab a pot and box of pasta. You can’t sit down, or you’ll put off dinner for at least another hour.
The water is set to boil when you turn around to look at your phone, vaguely hoping Jason has responded by now.
Your phone isn’t on the counter.
You frown. You’re pretty sure you left it there.
Maybe it’s in the pantry when you grabbed the pasta?
It’s not.
You must have left it in your room when you changed. You check, and it’s sitting right on your bedside table. “Jeez,” you mutter, picking it up and slipping it into your pocket. After a long day, it’s okay to be scatterbrained, but this is a bit much.
Still no response from Jason.
You walk out of the bedroom to see that the stove turned itself off and the pasta water is barely warm. “Gotham appliances are such pieces of shit,” you mutter. You know what, fine. A shower and feeling clean will make you feel better to try again. The saying is that a watched pot never boils, but hopefully a watched Gotham stove never turns itself on and off randomly while you cook.
The apartment’s a bit chilly, so you take your pajamas with you into the bathroom and sit under the water spray until all the grime of the day washes away. It’s a bad habit, but you bring your phone with you in the shower to scroll through social media until your skin starts to get pruny. You step out, wrapping the towel around yourself in a vain attempt to stop shivering, and… your pajamas are gone.
The pajamas that you’re sure you took with you. You distinctly remember putting them on the sink counter.
And now they’re gone.
Something clenches in your stomach. You text Jason, Hey are you home yet?
He doesn’t respond right away.
Jay, this isn’t funny.
Still nothing.
Is it possible you forgot to bring the clothes with you? No, you distinctly remember the thought process.
Someone moved them, and you can’t think of s single reason anyone you know would do that. That kind of prank isn’t funny.
You text Jason, I think there is someone in the house with me. Then you try calling him.
You go straight to voicemail.
You bite your lip, trying hard not to panic. Jason never sends you to voicemail. He’s answered your calls in the middle of shootouts, voice strained, “Hey, kinda busy right now, is it an emergency?”
His phone is turned off, so who knows when he’ll see your texts. He might not turn it on again for hours.
You text your best friend, I think someone broke into my house. Don’t call me. Please help.
You chew on your thumbnail.
Either she calls the cops, or she shows up with a baseball bat and her scary-ass motorcycle dude boyfriend. He’s secretly a softie, but his appearance doesn’t match his personality.
He’s a lot like Jason, actually. Who would have thought you two had the same type?
You call Jason again.
Voicemail.
Again.
Voicemail.
Your best friend texts, Omw. That’s it, but it’s the best text you’ve ever seen in your life.
Okay. Either cower in the bathroom until someone shows up, or play along with the same game the possibly-real-intruder is playing, that everything is normal.
No matter what happens next, you want to be dressed for it. You peek under the door, but you don’t see anyone’s feet.
Maybe this is all in your head, but you have a terrible gut feeling that it isn’t.
Your heart pounds, but you maintain a leisurely stroll into your room through the kitchen, palming a knife as you go, and locking the door behind you. The intruder may be in your closet, so you hold the knife out as you swing the door open.
Empty.
You throw on the first clothes you see and debate hiding in your room until your friend arrives. But adrenaline is pumping and you think you might shake out of your skin. You sit on the edge of the bed and take deep breaths.
There’s a window in your room, but it only opens three inches and it’s not connected to the fire escape, so that’s not an option. The window that leads to the fire escape is in the main room, so you’d have to walk through the kitchen to get to it, and the intruder may be hiding in the pantry.
You could try the front door, but the storage closet is right next to it: another likely place for someone to hide and jump out at you.
Your room is only as safe as the strength of the door. And the wood is pretty thin.
All of a sudden, your phone buzzes, and you drop it. You snatch it up to see an incoming call lighting up the screen with your boyfriend’s handsome contact photo.
You accept the call immediately. “Jay?”
“I’m on my way,” he rushes out. You hear the roar of his motorcycle in the background. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay.” You whisper, “I think someone is here.”
“I know.” His voice is strained. “It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be fine. I’m five minutes away. Can you get out?”
“I don’t know. I’m in my bedroom, I locked my door. I think he’s hiding somewhere in the apart—”
A hand shoots out from under the bed and grabs your ankle.
You scream.
Your phone flies away when he yanks you off the bed. You go down swinging with the knife and make contact, accidentally swiping your own ankle in the process. The man grunts with pain and lets go, and you scramble to the door. You don’t even feel the pain in your ankle, although you’re actually bleeding a lot.
He’s wriggling out from under your bed when you get to your feet and twist the doorknob. “Get the fuck out of my house, you fucking pervert!” you scream. You yank the door open and run…
Right into a stranger’s chest.
There are two of them?
An iron grip clamps over your shoulder. His other hand fists in your hair. “Well, hello, pretty. You’re not the Red Hood.”
You stab him in the stomach.
Unfortunately, that only makes him mad.
“You bitch,” he groans. The slap is so powerful it nearly breaks your neck. You can’t breathe for a second, and then the first man catches up to you. His hand is bleeding. Like, a lot. They transfer you over so the stabbed man can groan about being stabbed. It’s only in his gut, so he should be fine. “Walk it off,” you goad. It’s the Gotham in you.
The first man digs his bloody knuckles into your cheek. “Fucking whore cut me,” he says. “Where’s the Red Hood?”
“He’ll kill you both,” you spit. “He’s on his way to shoot you in the head.” The threat should have scared them, but they were dumb enough to break into the Red Hood’s apartment and beat his partner. They had not been blessed with many braincells.
“Good,” he says. “He’ll get here just in time to see his pretty pet die.”
Someone pounds on the door and everyone freezes. Fear flashes over their face, but Jason wouldn’t have knocked. He would have kicked the door down or gone through the window.
Your best friend calls your name through the door. She’s trying to sound casual, but things are so far past casual.
The man holding you sees you draw in a breath to scream. “Don’t you dare,” he warns. “Do it and I’ll kill them, too.” The barrel of a gun presses to the side of your head.
Where is Jason?
You don’t think he’ll get here in time. He doesn’t deserve to carry the weight of that failure, but he will. Your Jay thinks he’s responsible for every bad thing in the world.
The man’s ugly face explodes.
You register the concussive sound of gunfire half a second later. Your ears ring. You lose your balance.
More gunfire. It’s so loud all you can do is cover your ears. Who’s shooting who?
It stops as suddenly as it started, but you don’t look up. You can’t hear anything. You don’t want to see their ugly faces anymore.
Then hands grab you again, and you shriek. Your kitchen knife is still buried in the second man’s gut, so you have no defense. A man with a gun is going to kill you in your apartment.
Despite all your attempts at fighting, he’s too strong. Iron hands pry your hands away from your head, but you still can’t hear anything. Your ears are still ringing too loud. Your eardrums might have burst.
Then gloved hands cup your cheeks.
You know those gloves.
Jason is kneeling on the ground in front of you, absolutely frantic. His mouth moves, but you don’t hear anything. You don’t even hear your sob, but you definitely feel it right before you throw yourself at him.
Strong arms wrap around your back. Jason cradles you, hugs you so tight you can’t breathe, tries to hide you from anyone that might hear you. You still can’t make out his words, but you’re beginning to hear a muffled voice.
You’re sitting completely in his lap, his legs behind you to support your back. You cling to him, trying not to shake. You’re a pretty unflappable Gothamite, but a home invasion is enough to rattle anyone. You’re supposed to be safe here.
Jason pulls away just enough to kiss your forehead. His green eyes squeeze tight like he’s in pain, and a single tear slips from the corner of one.
You wipe it away.
Jason wipes the blood on your cheek away.
You read his lips when he asks if you’re okay. You nod. You’re alive, and that’s what matters.
Jason holds you still when you try to look around. He says something that you can’t read. He must know that you don’t understand, because he just uses one huge hand on the back of your head to pull you forward. His mouth presses against your forehead, not quite a kiss, just relishing the connection.
You hear the banging first. Then you hear the shouting.
Oh, God. Your best friend.
You scramble out of Jason’s hold so fast he can’t stop you. You stumble past two dead bodies, both with three bullets in their heads. The floor is ruined beyond belief.
Jason helps support you. He needs to touch you somewhere to reassure himself that you’re okay, that you’re alive. You unlock the door, and barely open it a crack before your friend pushes it all the way open.
She gasps at the sight of you. “Oh, my God!” Her arms wrap tight around your neck, and you squeeze her. Jason’s hand remains pressed against your back. Her boyfriend stands behind her in the hallway, and he eyes Jason somewhat suspiciously. The two have never met before.
Your best friend pulls away, and Jason folds you against his side. His hand runs up and down your arm.
“Are you okay? There’s blood all over you.” Her eyes drift past your face and land on the bodies on your floor. Her mouth tightens, but she doesn't scream or call the cops immediately.
“It’s not mine,” you say faintly. “Well…” You look at your ankle. “Most of it.”
“Jesus,” says Jason. “They did that to you?”
"I did it to myself," you admit. "But I stabbed that one." You point.
He kisses the top of your head. "I'm going to teach you how to defend yourself. I never should have left you alone." Jason fixes your friend with a look so stern that she actually gulps. "Can you watch them for a little bit?"
"Yeah," she says. "I'll take care of them."
"Good." Jason takes your face in his hands. His eyes blaze. "I'll be back as soon as I can. You hear me? You're not gonna be alone ever again."
You nod numbly.
Jason carries you to the couch, then coaches your friend through applying pressure to your ankle. He gently places an icepack in your hand, then moves you until it's pressed to your numb cheek. Then he kisses you. Pulls back. Kisses you again. It's not sweet—he tastes like blood, or maybe you do—but it's firm, and it's real, and it's a promise.
He stands up and asks your friend's boyfriend, "You wanna help me with these?"
As far as you know, the other man's never hidden a dead body in his life. But to his credit, he hardly hesitates before nodding.
Jason's already calling someone when he walks out. One of his criminal contacts, you're sure. You don't know and you don't want to know.
They're gone for twenty minutes. You're still in shock when they get back. You know you're in shock, but you can't snap out of it. You don't think you want to.
He gently nudges your friend's hands away to peek under the gauze. "You want stitches for this, honey?"
You shake your head. The cut's too close to bone, and you don't want a needle going anywhere near your bones.
"Okay." He changes the gauze, then tapes it in place, then puts a sticky wrap over that. "I'll change this in the morning. You're gonna be okay."
"I'm glad you're all right," your friend's boyfriend offers. You don't know each other all that well, but he just helped hide two bodies that you and Jason killed, so he must be an all right dude. You nod, give him a shaky smile, try to wave.
Your best friend bends over to hug you. "I'm going to text you in the morning," she says. "You'll be okay with Jason. I'm so proud of you. I'm so glad you're okay."
You hug her back until she puts the icepack back in the freezer.
When they leave, Jason stands up from the couch. You make a pleading, confused noise in the back of your throat, and he smooths your hair away from your face. "I'll be right back, honey," he promises. "I'm gonna lock the door. No one's ever getting to you again, you hear me?"
As soon as he pulls away, you shiver. The only thing keeping you warm was his body.
True to his word, he locks the front door, then heads right back to you.
"Do you want to go to the bedroom?" Jason asks softly.
You shake your head. There was a man hiding beneath your bed tonight. It was worse than any monster you used to be scared of as a child.
"Okay," he says softly. Jason eases onto the couch, but he has so much bulk that it's impossible to lay side-by-side on your backs. Jason twists onto his side, and after a moment, you do too, using one of his massive biceps as a pillow. He smells like gunpowder. You smell like blood. You fit together like two terrible, violent puzzle pieces.
He kisses your forehead again. Pulls a blanket over the two of you, makes sure it's snug around your feet. You enjoy the fussing.
When he has nothing left to fiddle with, Jason sucks in a ragged inhale, then says, voice cracking, "When I saw those texts, I was terrified."
"I'm glad you checked your phone," you say. "For a while, I thought you wouldn't."
"I could feel that something was wrong."
Your throat hurts. "Did you mess up your mission tonight because of me?"
"Honey, I would do anything for you," he says. "I'd abandon a thousand missions to keep you safe. I'd burn this city to the ground."
Another night, you would remind him that he's a hero. That he fights for the greater good. That he is good.
Tonight, you take comfort in the vow.
"I'm so proud of you," he whispers. "You were so brave. You did so well."
Your fingers twist in his shirt. Your nose nestles into the hollow at the base of his throat perfectly, so you hear every breath he takes, every rumble in his throat when he talks. You press a kiss to his chest just above the neckline of his shirt, and his throat jumps.
Jason makes a strangled noise, then wraps his arms even tighter around you. He throws one leg over your hip, completely covering you, pressing you into the couch. You would feel suffocated if it was anyone else.
You fall asleep faster than you ever have before, secure that Jason won't let anything happen to you during the night. The last thing you register before unconsciousness is his dry lips pressed to your forehead again. Making sure you're alive. Reassuring you that he's here and always will be.
DC taglist:
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littlelamy · 3 months ago
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the one where he wants you again
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s2!rafe x reader
rafe was pissed at himself. was he really that dumb to dump you so quickly? you were his bunny, his princess; if he asked you to jump, you would ask him how high. you were his. he didn't deserve you. but, God, he wanted you so badly. he needed you not only for your perfect body but because you did what others couldn't. he'd never tell himself that he loves you, but he does.
it was almost like an obsession. something about you that made him needy for you. something that made you a guilty pleasure for him. you are the only one who has ever made him think of a future. marriage, babies, anniversaries. all things that meant forever.
but rafe was scared. he was scared that one day you'll leave him. one day you'll listen to others and think his too crazy to be with. so he ended it before you could. now his sitting at this party after 10+ shots thinking of you while your smiling and giggling with a damn pogue right in front of his face.
you made it seem like you were okay but you were feeling just as sad as him. but you'd never say it. you want rafe to learn that there are consequences to actions. it took a lot for you not to jump into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck and kiss all over him, but rafe need a lesson. you are a gift, and he needs to treat you as such.
"y/n you there," pope says snapping his fingers in you face. "are you still thinking about rafe." yes. "if you want him so bad just tell him, maybe he'll change." no, you don't know rafe. you say to yourself.
"he's special to me, pope," you groan, annoyed at how bad you want him. "i can't just jump in his lap and play house with him. he hurt me, pope," you say feeling those familiar eyes watching you. "but, God, he looks so good," you complain looking at rafe out of the side of your eyes.
rafe couldn't take it anymore. he needed his bunny back. "pogue leave," rafe says sneaking up behind you and staring daggers at pope. "kook business so go," rafe rudely commands.
"rafe, stop being disrespectful," you turn around angrily. "his name is pope, and if you need to speak to me, you ask me nicely and take me aside. but you will not disrespect my friend." you say, turning back to pope, who is shocked. "i'm sorry, pope, I'll see you tomorrow at john b's party."
"it's fine, y/n, I'll see you tomorrow," pope says, still shaken up, walking away. you turn back around to an embarrassed rafe, as you gaze upon him his cockiness returns.
"so just because i dumped you doesn't mean, you come to this party looking like that," rafe gestures to your tight, short white dress looking like heaven on earth. "i told you that you can only wear that when you come to parties with me."
"um let me get this straight," you start. "you dumped me two days rafe, two days before my birthday, with some dumb excuse that ward didn't want you to be with me," you say, getting angry all over again. "then i see ward at the country club saying that he loved that rafe decide to date me because i make rafe a better person. so if i want to dress slutty, i can and you cant do any thing about it."
before you storm off, rafe gently grabs your arm, pulling you to his chest. rafe was not going to let you leave this time. "don't do it, bunny," rafe whispers in you ear. "i messed up, baby. and i miss you. please don't do this," rafe pleads with his cool minty breath blowing in your ear. "please, princess, please." he's doing it again the begging thing that you love. everything felt so intense.
you fed up with the neediness pull rafe in by his neck and give him a quick but passionate peck on the lips. "rafe, you have to promise me, that you will try to do better," you order him, caressing the back of his neck. "i love you but you can't keep pushing me away," you say looking into his blue eyes.
rafe needs you. rafe wants you and only you. rafe gently nods his head, leaning down to give you another peck on the lips, mumbling an 'i love you.'
"come on, baby, let's go back to tannyhill and take a bath," you say to a love-struck rafe. "then we can talk more tomorrow, okay?" you finish.
"yes, princess, whatever you want," rafe agrees, pulling your hand out of topper's house. even though he messed up, you can't possibly give up on him.
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theonottsbxtch · 1 month ago
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MILLION DOLLAR WOMAN | OP81
an: i head to france tomorrow guys, today is my final day of freedom rip. this was so fun to write because imagine just finding out your partner is a millionaire fr, based off of this request
wc: 2.5k
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Oscar could see her sitting at the dining table through the floor-to-ceiling windows as he parked his car. The quiet of their home in Monaco always took him by surprise—no revving engines, no buzz of the pit crew. Just her typing away on her laptop with her usual cup of tea. She looked up as he walked in, gave him a quick smile, and then returned to her screen. Always so relaxed, even as he walked in carrying the tension of a bad training session.
"Good day?" she asked, barely looking up. He nodded and mumbled something about a corner he'd taken too fast. She listened but didn’t pry. She never did. That's how she was. She was more interested in weekend hikes than race standings, in cooking simple meals than joining him at fancy team dinners. It was a refreshing kind of simplicity, though sometimes a little mystifying. She didn’t ask about the sport or his schedule, never got jealous over the fans, and didn’t seem to care about the lifestyle that came with dating an F1 driver.
In a way, it was...perfect. He didn’t have to worry about her growing tired of his schedule, or about her expectations getting out of hand. She worked her 9-to-5, met him after, and never asked for more. The fact that she paid for her own things when they went out had caught him off-guard at first, but she’d laughed and shrugged it off when he offered to take care of the bill. "I’m used to it," she’d said. And that had been that. No strings, no expectations.
Tonight, she must’ve been finishing something for work, because she was typing away with focus. He walked into the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water, glancing over his shoulder at her every now and then, content. The glow of her screen was the only light in the room; the apartment was quiet but comfortable, like this was all they’d ever need.
“How’s work?” He asked as he shut the fridge.
She briefly looked up, “Long” she sighed but smiled at him.
As he walked past her he placed a brief kiss on her forehead and slid onto the sofa, stretching out and letting the quietness of home sink into his bones. She was already back to her typing, nodding to herself as she worked through whatever was in front of her. It was one of those things he found himself both fascinated by and grateful for—she didn’t need him to fill the silence. She seemed just fine with her job, her laptop, her little rituals that didn’t have anything to do with him.
Oscar watched her for a moment before pulling out his phone, scrolling through emails and messages. A lot of them were about his upcoming sponsorship deal, a whirlwind of numbers and logistics. He thought about calling his manager to check the final figures but decided against it. Just thinking about it wore him out.
He read email after email as he heard the scrape of a chair, he looked up to see her stand up and take a call in their terrace, something he adored about this house.
Then his phone rang, Mark, he picked up automatically. “Yeah, hey,” he said, voice still soft from the calmness of the evening. As he talked through the details with him, he realised he needed to jot something down. With no pen or paper in reach, he glanced over to the dining table where she always kept a notepad beside her tea.
Oscar rose, walking over to her seat, quietly picking up her pen. But as he did, his eyes fell onto the screen of her laptop, where her banking app was open.
It was one glance, just a flicker of his eyes, but enough for him to catch sight of the balance there. He paused mid-sentence, his own words catching in his throat.
That number didn’t look right.
Surely it was missing a decimal.
Wrapping up the conversation with Mark, he wrote down what he needed, and looked at the screen once more. In that time, she’d walked back into the room, her feet padding on the cool granite of their dining room floor.
Oscar couldn’t take his eyes off the screen.
"Hey," he said, voice a little strained, still trying to process what he was seeing. "Uh…how much money do you make?"
She blinked, the corner of her mouth lifting in that effortless way of hers. "Enough," she said with a little laugh. "Why?"
Oscar blinked, struggling to wrap his head around it. This was his girlfriend—quiet, low-key, not a trace of the usual high-gloss life he’d always associated with wealth. He’d seen people obsess over money, hover around him just because of it, make a whole lifestyle out of it. But her? She was the woman who insisted on bringing packed lunches to work, who chose thrift shops over boutiques, who still wore her decade-old watch without a second thought. She was content. Comfortable. But this…
"That’s…a lot of ‘enough,’" he said, pointing at the screen, unable to mask the amazement in his voice.
She just shrugged and closed her laptop, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "I guess I don’t really talk about it, huh? Not exactly first-date conversation."
He leaned back against the table, watching her with a strange mix of awe and curiosity. "Not even, like, fourth-date conversation."
"To be fair, I didn’t ask what you make, either," she pointed out, quirking an eyebrow at him. "Money’s not really…our thing."
He felt a laugh bubble up in his chest. She was right, and yet, here he was, dumbfounded. She’d been living in his world all this time, never asking him for anything, never trying to claim any part of the lavish life he could provide. Now, he realised, maybe she didn’t need it at all.
"So…why not mention it?" he asked, still trying to understand. "I mean, I just assumed…" He trailed off, feeling a little sheepish.
"I know," she said, her smile turning gentle. "I guess I liked that you assumed. It made things easier. It let me be just…me. No expectations, no need to fit into any box."
Oscar nodded slowly, taking that in. It made sense, but it still felt surreal. Here was someone who, from the very beginning, hadn’t wanted anything from him other than his time, his company. She wasn’t here for his lifestyle or his status, things he’d been conditioned to believe were a part of every relationship he’d ever have.
He glanced at her laptop again, unable to stop himself from wondering. “So, wait—what exactly do you do? Something like…senior management?” he asked, half-joking, his tone teasing.
Oscar chuckled, shaking his head as the absurdity of it all settled in. He was still trying to wrap his head around the whole idea—his girlfriend, his laid-back, thrift-shop-loving girlfriend, was apparently not only financially secure but really well off.
She raised her eyebrows, a sly smile creeping across her face. “Something like that,” she replied, taking a sip of her tea.
He squinted at her, suspicious. “Oh, come on, don’t leave me hanging. How high up are you, really?”
She glanced away, as if considering her words, and then said it, almost like a casual aside. “I’m the CEO.”
He blinked, the statement hanging in the air like a punchline he hadn’t quite caught. “Wait…CEO? As in, like, the CEO?”
She laughed, shrugging it off like it was nothing. “Just of a mid-sized company, Oscar. It’s not that big of a deal.”
“Darling,” he said slowly, realising dawning. “What company?”
She paused, her eyes darting away, and he could see the hint of mischief there. “Ever heard of Catalyst?”
“Catalyst…wait, as in Catalyst Dynamics?” he asked, his voice growing louder with shock. “The same Catalyst Dynamics that sponsors my team?”
She pressed her lips together, trying—and failing—not to smile. “Do they?”
“Oh, you are kidding me!” he exclaimed, grinning in disbelief. “You’ve been secretly spoiling me this whole time!”
She shook her head, looking away as though he’d accused her of something scandalous. “Oscar, it’s a sponsorship, not a…spoiling thing. Besides, that’s business. I keep it separate from…this.” She gestured between the two of them, clearly trying to play it cool.
But Oscar wasn’t buying it, not for a second. “Oh, no you don’t.” Before she could say another word, he leaned down, scooping her up and carrying her toward the sofa.
“Oscar!” she yelped, laughing, half-protesting, but she didn’t resist.
He set her down on the cushions, pinning her playfully as he hovered above her, grinning with that spark of mischief that usually only showed up on race day. “You’ve been keeping this a secret, haven’t you? The big boss lady, looking out for me, pretending you’re just this regular 9-to-5 woman…”
“Oscar, I’m not spoiling—”
“Oh, we’ll see about that.” He grinned wider, fingers finding her sides as he started tickling her, his hands relentless. She burst into laughter, twisting and squirming, but he didn’t let up.
“Okay, okay!” she managed between laughs, her breath coming in gasps as he kept up his assault. “I admit it, I admit it!”
“Admit what?” he asked, pausing, a playful gleam in his eyes as he waited for her to say it.
“Fine!” She was breathless, cheeks flushed from laughter. “Maybe I had a tiny bit of a hand in sponsoring your team, maybe. But it wasn’t to spoil you! It was just…good business.”
He chuckled, finally letting up, settling beside her on the sofa. “Good business, huh?”
She took a deep breath, still smiling as she nudged him. “I mean it. I didn’t want you to feel any pressure…or obligation. This—us—is different.”
Oscar looked at her, his heart feeling fuller than he’d expected. “Different is right.” He slipped an arm around her, pulling her close. “Guess I’m just lucky to be dating a CEO with a secret soft spot.”
She laughed, leaning her head against his shoulder, content. “And I guess I’m lucky to be with someone who never needed me to be anything but…me.”
As they settled into a comfortable silence, Oscar’s mind was still spinning, pieces clicking into place one by one. He glanced around their beautiful apartment—the floor-to-ceiling windows, the sleek, minimalist design. The place had always felt like an oasis, calm and understated, like Anna herself. But something new was nagging at him now.
“Wait…” He looked down at her, narrowing his eyes. “That’s why you won’t let me pay rent, isn’t it? You said this place was your dad’s, but it’s not, is it?”
She bit her lip, trying not to smile, but the faintest hint of a smirk gave her away. “Well…okay, maybe it wasn’t technically my dad’s. He…may not have anything to do with it.”
“Sweetheart!” he said, laughing as he sat up, staring at her in mock betrayal. “So you’ve just been letting me think I’m staying at this family-owned place when all this time you’re the one paying for it?”
She shrugged, looking at him with playful innocence. “It’s already been paid for. Besides,” she added, her smile widening, “I like the idea of you feeling at home here without any pressure.”
“Oh, no,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m onto you now. You may be this relaxed, low-key CEO, but you’ve secretly been spoiling me this entire time. Admit it!”
She laughed, a bright, carefree sound. “Fine, I admit it—I may have bought this place. Technically. But it’s still your home, too.”
Oscar pulled her close again, marvelling at how effortlessly she balanced everything—her high-powered job, their quiet, easygoing life together, her uncanny ability to make him feel like the luckiest man in the world. “You know what?” he murmured, looking into her eyes. “I don’t care if you own half of Monaco. You’re still my love.”
She grinned, leaning her forehead against his. “Good,” she whispered. “Because you’re stuck with me.”
They stayed like that for a moment, her nestled into him, the quiet warmth of the room settling around them. But Oscar couldn’t resist one more question, the thought gnawing at him.
He tilted her chin up to meet his gaze, a smirk playing on his lips. “Alright, one last thing, Miss CEO.” He paused, eyes twinkling. “Is your net worth bigger than mine?”
She tried to stifle a laugh, her eyes darting away as if avoiding the answer itself. “Oscar…”
He gasped, leaning back in exaggerated shock. “Oh my god, it is, isn’t it? You’ve got me beat!”
“I’m not answering that,” she said, biting back a smile as she pressed her lips together stubbornly.
“You don’t need to,” he replied, grinning even wider. “The silence says it all. Here I thought I was the big shot, and my girlfriend’s out here just quietly sitting on an empire.”
She laughed, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “Well, maybe I just like watching you think you’re the fancy one.”
He pulled her close again, laughing softly. “Alright, fine. But don’t think I won’t bring this up anytime you try to sneak the bill.”
She grinned, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Deal.”
Oscar chuckled, still shaking his head in disbelief. He leaned back, looking up at the ceiling as if he’d just pieced together some incredible mystery. “You know, our kid is going to be spoiled,” he said, the words slipping out with a grin.
He felt her shift beside him, and when he looked down, her expression had softened, her eyes faraway, a little spark of excitement in them. “They won’t,” she murmured, almost to herself. “Humble start, just like we both had.”
“Oh, so you’ll be the strict parent, then?” he teased, arching an eyebrow. “The one laying down the law?”
She laughed, giving him a gentle shove. “So I’m the bad cop?”
“Absolutely. I’m not budging on this.” He grinned, taking her hands in his as he leaned in close. “You’ve been lying to me for four years about practically everything. I think that officially makes you the bad cop in this relationship.”
She rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face was warm, even a little shy. “Fine, I’ll take ‘bad cop’… but only if you’re ready to be the softie who gives in.”
Oscar laughed, wrapping his arms around her, feeling that sense of joy settle in even deeper. “Deal, I was already planning on it” he whispered, his voice full of promise. And as he held her close, he realised he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Oscar pulled her even closer, his hands resting gently on her cheeks as he took in the warmth of her gaze, her face illuminated softly in the low light. The playful edge between them softened into something deeper, and the laughter faded into quiet, shared breath.
Slowly, he leaned in, brushing his lips against hers in a soft, lingering kiss that held all the words they hadn’t said. Her hands slid up to his shoulders, fingers curling there as she melted into him, and for a moment, everything—the teasing, the surprises, the whole world around them—faded away.
the end.
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rikiislvr · 4 months ago
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♥︎necklace - nishimura riki
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pairing: nishimura riki x afab!reader
summary: while on tour in the US, niki runs into you at a jewelry store, since he’s not the best with speaking english, he tries his hardest to ask you out with as many words as he knows, (and with the help of jake lol)
warnings: none!!
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you walked into the jewelry shop on the way to your apartment in hopes to find a new necklace since the one you had on now was beginning to fall apart.
you walked inside, the cool ac of the store refreshing your hot skin, you walked over to the necklace section and began to scan the different necklaces on the shelves,
meanwhile, niki and jake were on the other side of the shop,
jake forced niki to come with him to go shopping for their last day in the US, they had one more show tonight then they were leaving tomorrow morning,
and they’ve been running around all over place, store to store, buying things left and right, but they were having fun,
but now niki was tired, but since jake was taking forever looking at rings from the display, niki groaned and checked the time on his phone, “bro.” he mumbled, jake looked up and chuckled, “5 mins!” jake held up 5 fingers, niki rolled his eyes and decided to walk around to pass time.
as he walked over to the other side of the store, his eyes was stopped on what he thought, was the prettiest girl he’s ever saw.
it was you.
you were standing with two different necklaces in your hands, eyes shifted back and forth on the both to see which one you’d pick. your hair laid perfectly and framed your face in all the right ways.
he truly thought you were beautiful,
obviously, he’s seen several different pretty girls, at concerts, interactions with fans, or even when he’s casually shopping,
but you.. he’s never seen someone so beautiful like you, doe brown eyes, and your outfit was so adorable to him.
he quickly looked away not to make anything awkward if you were to look up, jake then walked over to niki and tapped his shoulder , “why’d you walk off?” he asked, niki looked at jake, then back at you, his ears going all red
jake took the hint, nodding slowly with a smile, he nudged niki, basically telling him to go talk to you, niki shook his head, “my.. my english.. it’s not the best.” niki sighed,
he assumed you were american, or atleast really good at speaking english, since they were in the US and you’re here.
“what do you wanna say?” jake asked.
“uh..” niki rubbed his neck, then shrugged, jake chuckled, “say she’s pretty.. and ask for her number maybe?” jake says, “ask.. for her number?” niki raised and eyebrow, and jake nod. niki felt his palms sweating.
“so say.. ‘hey, you’re really pretty, could i have your number?’” jake says, niki listened to his words clearly,
“hey.. you are- pretty. can i have you—?” he tilt his head, “number.” jake finished, “can u have your number.” niki nods, jake nod as well, “yup! you got it. now go do it!” jake nudged niki, niki let out a breath as jake backed away to watch from afar.
niki cleared his throat and rubbed his palms on his jean jacket before stepping up to you slowly, your head lifted, eyes drifting away from the necklaces and to the handsome guy in front of you.
and you didn’t wanna stare too much, but you couldn’t stop looking at him. he was so beautiful.
his dark jet blue hair laid perfectly over his eyes, his moles all over his face, and his fashion sense, he was so handsome.
“hey..” he says quietly, holy shit was he about to ask you out?
“may i— no.. you’re really pretty..” he says, but he sounds unsure. you immediately could tell english wasn’t his first language, but you smiled at his desire to talk to you anyways.
“thank you.” you smile softly, and he smiled back, before chuckling and rubbing his neck, “can i— can i have your.. number..?” he cleared his throat, and your eyes widened.
you couldn’t believe someone so beautiful like him was asking YOU for your number. “oh.. yes! sure.” you nod, after realizing how long you left him on ‘delivered’.
niki nod and chuckled nervously again, stumbling to get his phone from his jean pocket and handing it to you,
you stared at the phone, ‘Enter Pin’
you giggled awkwardly and showed him he had to put his pin in first, “ah.. sorry.” he face palmed himself before quickly putting the pin in and going to the number dial.
you smiled at his cuteness before typing in your number, and saving your contact name as y/n. niki tried not to stare at you as you saved your contact, but you were so pretty, he stole little glances at you whenever you weren’t looking too much.
you then handed him back his phone, he looked at the screen, eyes drifting to see your name saved at the top of the chat,
“y/n..” he mumbled to himself, “pretty..” he smiled up at you, you felt your face heat up and looked away, “thank you.. what’s your name?” you ask.
“nishi- uh.. it’s niki.” he nods, you smiled, niki was such a nice name you thought, he then looked at the two necklaces you were holding up.
he then grabbed the one with a dark brown pendant, holding it up to your eyes, “it- it’s matching your.. your eyes.” he chuckled, his smile growing as his ears went red,
you covered your face as you giggled. he was cute.
“i’ll get this one then.” you nod and grabbed that necklace and put the other one back, he nod, “okay uh.. i’ll see— it was nice talking.. meeting? ah this is too hard.” he groaned and shut his eyes, you just giggled softly watching how determined he was to talk to you in english.
“it was nice meeting you.. y/n.” he nod and sucked in his lips, “nice meeting you too niki.” you shot him a smile before walking away to check out,
as soon as you walked away, niki rubbed his temples, he felt like he totally embarrassed himself but, deep down you thought he was so cute.
jake ran up, “how’d it go?” jake says, eyebrows raised.
“good.. i- think?” niki shrugged, jake chuckled and pat his shoulder, “you got her number atleast bro!” jake hyped him up, which made niki smiled.
he got a pretty girls phone number, and he was definitely gonna look forward to texting you after tonight’s show.
with the use of google translation of course..
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a/n: hi guys!! i’m so so sorry for how inactive i’ve been, it’s been a while since i wrote anything so i hope this isn’t too bad :( if u have any more ideas for me to write, pls send me a request!
tags: @certified-ni-ki-lover @noblub-4ulolz @yourmyst4r @vixialuvs @ni-ki-ismyluv @judeduartewannabe @soobs-things @en-chantedtomeetyou @definitelynotherr @heyniki @wntersm @geniejunn @pkjay @baevsxii @k1ttylvr @geniejunn @pkjay
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lunaritex · 1 month ago
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𓏲࣪ ִֶָ ︎ִֶָ LIGHTS, CAMERA AND LOVE 𖤐. — nishimura riki
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↺ CONTENT: idol au, both reader and riki are idols, reader is female, brief tooth-rotting fluff.
↺ FROM HYE: this was inspired after watching his artist of the month video heh…
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“Hello everyone. I’m (Name) and today, I’m on the set of Studio Choom to film the video for the Artist of the Month,” you introduced yourself, clapping and bowing a little as you sat on the chair provided by the staff. 
“(Name), how does it feel to be chosen as the Artist of the Month?” 
Laughing, you shyly tucked your hair behind your left ear. “Ah, to be honest, I’m not that confident in my dancing abilities. So I was quite shocked when I heard I got selected. But thank you so much for the opportunity provided to me. I will show my best self for everyone and my fans.” 
“Can you tell us what you have prepared for us?”
Humming, you slung your left leg over your right as you rested your hands on your left knee. “I’ve chosen to perform two songs: Rude Boy by Rihanna and Work it by Missy Elliot. I have gone with hip hop and pop, as I always wanted to try dancing to these kinds of songs. And I like challenging myself to new things too.” 
“How would you rate the choreography?” 
You purse your lips, pondering over it before answering. “If you know Pass the Mic by ENHYPEN, take their choreography and multiply it by… three times? It’s quite hard and it took me a while to master it.” 
“Speaking of ENHYPEN, how long have you been dating Nishimura Riki?” 
You gasped, taken aback by the sudden question about your love life. Your face flushed red when you heard the staff laugh at your embarrassment. “We’ve been together for about six months now, and our monthly anniversary is coming tomorrow. Which is also the day the video will drop too. I hope everyone looks forward to it-?” 
You paused when you saw a familiar figure entering the place. You ignored how you were in the middle of an interview, face brightening at the sight of your beloved boyfriend entering. You excitedly waved as Riki got closer. He chuckled, leaning down to press a loving kiss on your forehead as he stood beside you. Due to him being too tall, the camera was not able to capture his face. 
“What are you doing here? I thought you’re still busy with your schedule,” you asked, having to tilt your head up to look at him. 
“We ended early and I decided to surprise you. Although, it looks like you’re in the middle of something,” he sounds sheepish, but the staff merely shrugged his apology off. 
You giggled, leaning against him and faced the camera. “Now that my boyfriend’s here, maybe we should hear some encouraging words from him. Right, Riki?”
“Huh? Why are you suddenly interviewing me?” His eyes widened, not expecting you to change the direction of the interview just like that. You laughed at his reaction, pulling at his hand. 
“Come on, just say a few words!” You begged. 
Sighing, he bent slightly to reveal his face to the camera. “Hello, I’m Nishimura Riki from ENHYPEN. Uh, I don’t have much to say but please show lots of love and support to (Name)’s performance video. It drops tomorrow and I can tell she has put in a lot of effort into making the video. Thanks.” 
“Before we end, could we have the both of you do a dance together?” 
“Aish, I knew there was something else after this,” Riki mischievously wagged his finger at the staff, eliciting a round of amused laughter from them. 
You chuckled, rising to your feet. “Sure, how about we cover Riki’s dance on Studio Choom? The Artist of the Month video and we can do the moment of the video where it's most replayed.” 
“Don’t tell me…” Riki’s voice trailed off, recognition flickering across his face when he saw one of the staff handing both of you sunglasses. 
“Yup.” 
Both of you got into position. Once the music started, the staff were amazed with how in sync you were with one another. Your facial expressions were on point, easily matching the vibes of the song. Thankfully, you did not have to perform the whole choreography and instead, only showcase five minutes of it. When it ended, you were panting and catching your breath. 
“Since when did you learn it?” Riki asked, amazed as he ran a hand through his hair. 
“It was meant to be a surprise, but I guess it’s out of the bag now,” you sheepishly scratched your head, squeaking when he embraced you in a hug, his taller frame hiding you from the camera. The staff took it as a cue to end the recording, wanting to give the couple their much-needed alone time. 
Seeing this, Riki took it as his cue to squish your cheeks with his hands. You made a noise of protest but he ignores it, sniggering at your offended expression. He could no longer hold back, leaning down to give you a searing kiss on your lips. Before you could react, he had pulled away. A satisfied smirk appeared on his face at the sight of your dazed look. 
“You’re so cute,” he teased. 
“Riki!”
Needless to say, the video did well and most of the comment sections were filled with people squealing over your relationship. 
‘(Name) and Riki are so cute together! And the way they are in sync with one another is so cool! Truly the power duo we need.’
‘Forget Riki, I want (Name) instead.’
‘The part where they threw their sunglasses at the same time… chefs kiss.’ 
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wintertime-in-june · 7 months ago
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Reverse Arranged Marriage
Colonel!König x Recruit!Reader
The Colonel.
Your Colonel.
König.
You looked at him, twisting a strand of hair around your finger, big eyes shining adorably up at him, hanging on his every word...
So you can imagine the shattering feeling you felt when he arrived back to the base after a short sabbatical back home in Austria with a woman at his side.
His fiancé.
König has no experience when it comes to women. No previous relationships, no dates, not even an attempt at obtaining one... and his parents to be quite frank were worried.
Their little boy... their not so little boy... turning 30 and not so much as an interaction with a women to their knowledge.
When he had returned to Austria for his birthday, they decided to surprise him. Waiting back home was a woman, Katharina, 'a good Austrian woman' his mother had described her as.
König, well, he didn't say anything. His parents took this as a good sign. They had everything already arranged, the two of them would stay in KorTac military housing, Katharina would work as a nurse at the local hospital and they would return to Austria for the wedding in June.
Katharina was nice enough, there was nothing explicitly wrong with her... but König felt nothing. He didn't even try to feel anything. He didn't kiss her, he didn't hug her, he didn't even speak to her.
Since their meeting they simply just walked together, around his parent's house in Austria, through the airport and now through their house on base.
It didn't take long for König to move his things over, he wasn't a very materialistic person, he helped Katharina unload her boxes from the lorry, still, wordlessly.
That's when she heard it for the first time. You.
"Colonel, do you need help with that?"
And it just progressed from there, like a high pitched drone in her ears, annoying, inescapable.
"Colonel please help me with..."
"Colonel can I show you..."
"Colonel do you want to maybe..."
"Colonel this..."
"Colonel that..."
She was sick of it, and she was sick of you.
How come he would pay attention to you? You were just some dumb little recruit, she was his fiancé and he didn't even give her a word most days.
He didn't even take that stupid mask off in front of her, but he lifted it up for you to kiss the grazes on your knees, the tiniest scratches on your arms, even a frickin' paper cut. He couldn't have his little recruit get hurt in his training sessions and not kiss it better!
They slept in their bed, on opposite sides, untouching, rigid, mask on. But if you had a nightmare, he was there in an instant, tucking you up tight in your covers only to stay and hold you when you said...
"Please, Colonel, I'm scared..."
The final straw was when you had come round to their house one evening, uninvited, to give them some Topfenstrudel you'd baked... because you just so happened you made too much... yeah right.
She didn't buy it, not for a second, you just so happened to make too much of this dessert, an Austrian dessert, an Austrian dessert that just so happened to be the Colonel's favourite.
She was seething with she had one and it was... well, delicious.
As the Colonel showered you with praises, saying what a good young lady you were, how you'd make a man very happy one day, how you know the way to people's hearts. She glared daggers into your very soul, a glare that you answered with a sweet, innocent smile.
I mean who comes round, uninvited, in their little silky pyjamas, acting all innocent and cute, she could see right through you... but the Colonel couldn't.
"It was lovely chatting with you two, see you at training tomorrow Colonel!"
And with that the door shut and you walked with a skip in your step back to the recruit's barracks.
If you hadn't been so all consumed in your own little world you just might have heard the arguing that ensured as soon as you had left...
That next morning the Colonel came in with a smile under his mask, not that you'd have known, he placed a firm hand on your shoulder, looking down. After a pause, he eventually spoke.
"Katharina had to go back to Austria."
"Oh, how come?" you say feigning worry, as though your heart didn't skip a beat.
"It seems we were not a good fit for each other."
You hold back a smile, instead putting on a look of concern. "Aw that's such a shame! I hope she finds who she's looking for."
He chuckles at your sweetness, you were always thinking of other people in his eyes.
"I'm sure she will." He said with a little sigh.
"You know, I was thinking, I still have the military housing until the end of the season, how about you come over and show me how to make that Topfenstrudel, ja?"
You smile up at him, nodding profusely.
"For sure! It'll be cool me teaching you for once." You giggle.
The Colonel may not have a fiancé but he was more than fine with that...
Besides, perhaps his parents wouldn't need to cancel the wedding plans set for June...
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jhdyuiee · 27 days ago
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unconditional
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⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ pairing: ex-bf!jaehyun x fem!reader
⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ warnings/tags: smut!, angst (first day back & i’m breaking yall’s hearts, sorry!!!), unprotected sex, oral (f&m receiving), multiple positions, multiple orgasms, cum eating, marking/biting, smacking, tit/breast play, making out/kissing, fingering, name calling (good girl) and pet names (love), jaehyun is jealous type, rough jaehyun, cliffhanger/mysterious ending (also sad)
⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ w.c: 2.7k
⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ a.n: hi, jiji is back! hm, it’s been a while. in all honesty, this abrupt break i decided to take worked out in the end bcs school has been a big pain in the ass as of late & so writing has gotten hard. i also would like to apologize once more for honestly everything. however i am back now and yes, yes i know jaehyun leaves tomorrow… sigh, let’s just say that for now bcs if not i’ll start tearing up, lol. don’t forget to stay safe guys, i love you very dearly & thank you for waiting, i will be back with so much more! 🤍
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the rain came pouring down hard and unexpectedly. you were not prepared for this at all, so you took shelter inside a cafe. you settled on waiting until the rain calmed down so you could go home.
staring at the gloomy weather made you rather gloomy as well. you never had fond memories of the rain, no dancing in the rain with your lover. instead, it was almost as if the rain brought your life some type of bad luck.
“y/n?” a male voice calls for you, causing you to turn.
your eyes widened, lips slightly parting at the person who stood in front of you.
“jaehyun?” you say lowly, low enough for the two of you to hear.
his face too changes, it’s almost like he’s trying to process it really was you who was in front of him. you took him in, noting how he hasn’t changed in the 5 years since you’d parted. in fact you’d say he got even more… hotter?
“it really is you,” he says breathlessly, to which you nod. “i-is the seat taken?” he asks as he points to the seat in front of you.
“n-no” you respond. he sits down, looking right at you.
“how have you been?” he starts off by asking.
“well… i-i suppose i’ve been fine. how about you?”
he thinks for a second before responding. “i could be better,” he says, chuckling. your heart nearly melting at the sight of his dimples, the very ones you used to adored.
he asks you more questions about how the past 5 years had gone, you too gaining insight on his past 5 years. there was never any mention if you or him were in a relationship during the past 5 years, it was almost like a forbidden topic.
you mindlessly turn to the window, noting how the rain had finally stopped but the clouds were still there. you didn’t know whether to leave mid-conversation or stay a while longer. it had been 5 years, 5 excruciating years without him… to leave him now was-
“are you going to leave?” his questions bring you back to him.
your mouth opens, then closes, and opens again but he interrupts. “don’t leave… not yet. instead, please stay with me for today y/n,” he asks.
you didn’t even hesitate, already settling on your answer before he even finished asking you. you two leave the cafe, you follow him walking alongside him under his umbrella. your head filled with the endless possibilities of how today could go and where the night would lead you.
⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆
“y/n,” jaehyun whispers into your ear in a sultry tone.
your hot breath tickled his ear as your eyes interlocked with his lustful eyes. you wanted him, he wanted you. it had been so long since you’ve felt not only his touch, but a touch at all.
“can i?” he whispers as his eyes are on your lips. you nod, inviting him in.
his lips crash onto yours, melting together as they once used to. he started off gentle, almost as if he were testing the waters before involving the kiss into something more rough and filled with desire. it brought you back to the days of 5 years ago.
his hands traveled to the back of your head, tugging on your hair. his tongue fighting its way inside you until it began crashing with yours. you started feeling weak, legs almost giving out but he held you. he pressed you against the wall, body nearly melting into yours. you could feel his hardened member as it pressed against you.
you moaned into the kiss, trying to say his name. he tugged on your bottom lip, finally departing from your lips. your eyes watery, face feeling hot all over. your dazed gaze finding jaehyun’s lustful one. jaehyun groans before sinking onto his knees. you knew where this was going, so you helped him.
you began taking off your shirt, bra, and unbuttoning your jeans, taking them off. just as you were about to take off your panties, his hands stopped you. “just open your legs for me,” he says, to which you obliged.
jaehyun gives you one last look before disappearing in between your legs. you felt his lips nip and kiss on your inner thighs, making sure to mark you up. his wet tongue licks your already soaked panties, moaning when he gets a small taste of you. a taste he has been dying to have for 5 years.
sliding your panties to the side he licks your cunt up once, getting a full taste of you now. jaehyun almost swears he’s addicted to you again. “how i’ve missed this taste,” he moans, meeting your eyes again before diving back inside you.
his tongue swipes up your slit one more time before using his two thumbs to spread your pussy lips apart. he lets his tongue intrude inside your entrance, sliding against your gummy walls. you moaned rather loudly at the intrusion, tightening around his tongue. jaehyun could feel as your walls throbbed around his tongue, his cock hardening at the thought of how your cunt would feel wrapped nicely around him. jaehyun cursed himself, finding himself too impatient.
you began chanting his name, crying it out with every fucking of his tongue. he found your voice so sweet, so beautiful like a song he could hear on repeat and never get tired of. your fingers grabbed onto his soft locks of hair, grinding yourself on his face. your clit rubbing against his nose, you felt yourself reaching your end already. jaehyun knew you far too well too, knowing you were reaching your end as well. so he grips onto your thighs, fucking his tongue quicker and when he feels your walls clench around him he pulls his tongue out.
you were left on edge, whining at the loss of sensation of not being able to cum. jaehyun didn’t look up, busying himself with kitty licking your cunt. he kissed your sensitive clit, once, twice, three times. so lost you failed to notice his two digits that already worked their way along your slit.
“j-jaehyun?” you asked hazily, looking down at the male as he already stared straight at you. “wha- oh my god!” you moaned out the last part when you felt his two digits plunge inside your soaking cunt. the squelching sound echoing in the doorway, you didn’t even worry about if your neighbors heard. you were far too focused on the way his fingers fucked inside you over and over so quickly. already sensitive from his tongue, you were close to cumming again.
“i-i’m gonna c-cum!” you breathlessly groaned, biting down on your lips so as to not shout again. jaehyun had no intention of leaving you on edge again, so he fucked his fingers into you faster and deeper. he attached his lips onto your clit, toying with it. he remembered how much you loved it when he would teasingly dote on your clit. jaehyun knew your body as if it were his first language.
you let out a gasp before you finally came all over his hand and face. you hadn’t cum like that in a while, your fingers only being able to pleasure you so much. jaehyun licked you up one more time before kissing your clit. he got up, holding your body up before you could fall onto the ground. your legs were giving up already.
he shoved his soaked fingers into your mouth, your tongue licking them clean. “you did so good, love. was always such a good girl for me,” he whispers. his way of words, too, always turned you on.
when you finally licked him clean, he removed his hand from your mouth. in a split second his demeanor changes, his eyes turning more gentle. “as much as i wanna be inside you, i don’t have a condom. so-” you interrupt him. “i-it’s alright jae, please just… i wanna feel you.”
your words too turned him on, in a matter of seconds his pants and boxers were off. his aching cock standing proud. “jump,” he tells you.
you jumped, legs wrapping around his waist. your back still against the wall. his cock rubbed along your soaking slit before his leaking tip plunged into your entrance. 
“fuck- you’re so tight, no one fucked this pretty pussy while i was gone?” he groans. you didn’t respond, already drunk stupidly on his cock that was snugly wrapped around your gummy walls. it had been too long since you’d taken anything like his.
your eyes widened when you felt a smack against your ass cheek. “i asked you a question, or are you too drunk already to answer,” he says in a rough tone.
“uh, ye-yes b-but they don’t c-compare to y-you!” you moaned loudly when you felt him thrust into you rougher, deeper.
jaehyun was always the jealous type when it came to you, you were his and his alone is what he thought. in his world, no one was allowed to have you, it was the one thing he regretted when you two broke up. he couldn’t fathom the fact that some filthy bastard would be able to lay his hands on you, someone as tasteful as you.
“no one could leave you satisfied, right love?” he asks you, to which you just repeatedly say no. his mouth forms into a smile before his lips find themselves on your shoulder. his lips kiss along them, traveling to your neck, and jaw before coming down to your tits.
he pecks one of your tits before wrapping his mouth around your nipple. he accidently bites on your nipple when he feels you clench around his cock. jaehyun mutters a small curse as he kisses his way to your other breast. it receives the same attention as the previous one, only that this time he doesn’t accidentally bite your nipple.
“such perfect tits… were always my favorite,” jaehyun mutters, kissing your tit before parting from it. “now then, are you ready?” he asks you.
“y-yes please fuck me, be rough like you used to,” you said desperately as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
jaehyun’s hands grip onto the bottom of your ass where he lifts you up slightly before plunging you back down on his cock, chucking at your choked out moan. you truly were the cutest, he loved you so very much.
he slides his cock in and out, out and in, of you. he groaned against your exposed neck as you repeatedly clenched around him. you couldn’t help it, jaehyun fucked you so deeper, cock reaching your womb with every thrust. it wouldn’t be long before you’d cum again.
crushing you to the wall, he secures you against it so he could maneuver one of his hands to your clit. he used his thumb to rub the poor thing, “cum, cum on my cock like the good old days love.”
and so you do, erupting around his cock that still fucked into you. you knew he wouldn’t stop until he came, so you waited, encouraging him with filthy words to get him worked up. it was doing the trick, you felt him twitch inside you.
“whe-where do you w-want me to cum?” he asks you, thrusting into you quickly, nearly at his release.
“in mmh-me!” you moaned, clenching around him. “a-are you sure?” he questions you.
“y-yes, i’ll buy a pill tomorrow– please, just please i wanna feel your warmth inside me~”
“fuck,” jaehyun curses, filling you up with his seeds. his lips crashing onto yours as you milked him of his cum.
he parts from the steamy kiss you two just shared to carry you to your bedroom. he still remember the layout of your apartment. jaehyun drops you on your bed, and you watch as he takes off his shirt, sneakily glancing at his still hardened member. your mouth is nearly drooling all the more.
“turn around, on your hands and knees love,” jaehyun says, watching as you obliged to his every word. he watched as you arched your back, ass sticking out nicely, leaking with his cum. he couldn’t resist smacking your ass, left and right roughly. you moaned against your bed comforter, clenching it tightly as you got smacked from behind. you feel his warm cum dripping down your thigh, you try clenching your entrance– jaehyun taking notice.
“how cute, trying to make sure it doesn’t slip out?” he teasingly says before jerking his cock, bringing it to your slit. he rubs against your juices and his cum before stretching your gummy walls once more. it was incomprehensible how tight you always were, just right for him– just made for him.
“how is it love? you always loved it when i took you from behind, didn’t you?” he continues to tease you. “i love it! i love your cock so much j-jae, so good~”
he gripped your hips tighter, tight enough to leave prints the next day. you felt as his tip touched your g-spot so clearly, reaching your womb with every thrust in. jaehyun watches as you begin to wiggle underneath, shaking your ass against him. he smirks, smacking your ass which jiggled from his touch.
a white ring formed around his cock, a mixture of you both. it oddly enough ignited him, fucking into you in rapid, deeper strokes. your tears and drool adorning the comforter. your tight walls hugging his cock tightly, and with one smack to your ass you came for a third time. you gushed all over his pelvis.
“good girl,” jaehyun mutters, continuing his ministrations before he too came once again. only this time he didn’t part from your pussy, fucking you in slow, gentle thrust.
by the time he finished, he laid on your bed. jaehyun was exhausted, and you were too but… you still had something up your sleeve. crawling to him you stopped on his side. “wh-what are you doin-” jaehyun gets interrupted mid-sentence when he feels your lips kiss his tip. he didn’t stop you, in fact he wanted you to continue.
you spit on his cock, jerking it as to spread your saliva along his shaft. your eyes traveling back to jaehyun who hungrily looked at you. going back to his cock you lower your head, opening your mouth so you could finally take him inside. you shoved his cock inside until the tip reached your throat, you gagged and groaned against his cock when you felt him twitch inside. staying like that for a while longer, trying to get accommodated. once you did, you started bobbing your head on his cock, using your tongue to lick along his shaft. never forgetting to tease his slit, something he loved.
you felt as one of his hands tugged on your hair, helping you to better move yourself on his cock. jaehyun was a mess, he felt blessed– praised the lords above. he tried thinking of the nastiest atrocities known to mankind as to not bust so quickly, but that proved to be an impossible task. i mean, how could he when you so beautifully wrapped your sweet mouth around his cock.
and so it wasn’t long before he came inside your mouth, your mouth feeling his warmth before swallowing it down. you now felt so full, unable to take anymore. jaehyun too, you milked him dry, taking all of him in you.
you crawled to him, laying beside him. he engulfs you into his embrace, kissing you so tenderly. you two were exhausted but for what it was worth, it wasn’t regretful. his hand strokes your back, playing with your hair. it was peaceful, so peaceful that you secretly wished for your days to be like this. you were almost lulled to sleep by jaehyun before you opened your eyes when he whispered into the quiet room.
“we’re unconditionally timeless, and so is our love.”
far too exhausted to reply back, you just smile. you snuggled into his body, melting into him before you drifted off to dreamland. however, it wasn’t until you woke up the next day and felt the cold that you knew. 
jaehyun was gone, gone from your life once more. the intimate night you two shared last night, his parting gift.
there was no getting back together, no peaceful nights where the two of you lay in each other’s embrace. you cried and cried that entire morning, and silently prayed for a day where you two could reunite again. for fate to align you two again because after all…
jeong jaehyun was your first love and last love.
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© jhdyuiee
2024. 11. 03
final a.n: AHHHHH, jae leaves tomorrow. i don’t know what to do guys, like my man is leaving for the next 2 years. like what do you mean my man who has served needs to serve more?! consider this story as my last jaehyun fic while he is still a free man, lol, and no this doesn’t mean i’ll stop writing abt him. instead, think of this as a new beginning (?) okay i think that’s enough… i’ma go now! i hope you all enjoyed this read (wrote it in one day, very proud of my dedication after all the chaos school has brought me) and i’ll be sure to upload lots this month! stay safe, may we jaehyun fans make it until may 2026!
p.s: the cover picture makes me go feral, i just had to include it!
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rhysazriel · 4 months ago
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Smoke & Light: Part 2 [Plug!Az]
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SUMMARY: Azriel hasn’t been able to get you out of his head, and when you agree to smoke with him and go for a drive, truths aren’t the only things that are shared. (6.6k)
WARNINGS: lots to unpack tbh, so let’s start with swearing, (male) masturbation, teasing, flirting, kissing (!!!!!), mentions of abusive families, reoccurring themes of use of recreational drugs (weed), Az driving while smoking/stoned (I do not condone that so please do not do that in real life!!)
A/N: firstly, thank you so incredibly much for all of the love on part one, I’m so excited to share what I have planned for this series!! This part is longer than the first, so maybe grab a drink and a snack hehe
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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“Why don’t we give the brownies idea a try?”
Azriel’s head felt like it may explode. For the past two hours, he’d been stuck in a discussion between his brothers regarding new ideas for new products to sell. And while Az and Rhys had no ideas to suggest (all agreeing cocaine, molly and ket were not up for discussion), Cassian was still hellbent on making weed brownies—despite knowing not a damn thing about baking. 
“Cass,” Rhys sighed, pinching sharply at the bridge of his nose. Azriel was going to lose his shit, he couldn’t go through this again—for a fifth fucking time. “We literally spoke about this last week! None of us know how to bake!” 
Cassian paid no mind to Rhysand’s clear frustrations with him and scoffed as he threw his head back on the couch. “It can’t be that fucking hard.” 
“Then by all means, buy your own shit and burn it while you try and figure it out.” 
Azriel blinked, looking between the pair. He’d barely said a word, too worried he may get a bit too heated. Cassian got like this sometimes—most of the time—and more often than not, Az got the idea he only did it to get a reaction out of Rhys, who had very little patience when it came to him.
Someone had to play mediator and devil’s advocate in every situation, and somehow, even since they were teens, that role always landed on Azriel’s shoulders. 
Deciding enough was enough, he leant forward and peered between them both. “As much as edibles would help out sales, Rhys is right,” Cassian snickered at him, “It’s not a good idea right now. Not when we have no clue what we’re doing, and especially not when we’re having problems with our supplier right now.”
It was silent in the room for a moment, for the first time in an hour. And after a few minutes passed and no one spoke, Rhys stood from the couch with a sigh. “I’ve gotta get going to the parlour. All my sketches are there and I’ve got a long day and a huge back piece to tattoo tomorrow.” 
He clapped a hand against both Az and Cassian’s shoulders before bidding them a goodbye and leaving. Cassian remained sulking on the couch, thick and toned arms crossed on his chest with an unsatisfied scowl on his face. Azriel took purchase on the coffee table in front of him, lips pursed to suppress his amusement.
Cassian often got like this if he was told no or something didn’t go his way. When they were younger, Azriel used to roll his eyes and tell him to get over it. But now, in their mid-twenties and Cassian sharing a striking resemblance to that hunky character from that one Disney movie, Azriel found his sulking the best form of entertainment. 
“Are you not working tonight?” Az broke the silence with a lighthearted question. As much as he found his brothers face amusing, he didn’t really have the energy to deal with it all fucking night. He had shit to do, people to see. And he didn’t particularly want to bring Cassian along to his drop off’s—not when Cass scared the shit out of most people. 
“Club’s closed, waiting for Nes to finish. Staying at hers tonight,” he mumbled.
Relief was quick to flow through Azriel’s blood as he let out a breath. His phone chimed from his back pocket as he said, “Tell her I say hi,” and a gentle smile tugged at the corners of Cassian’s mouth.
Az and Nesta had a decent friendship, he was closer to her than he was Feyre, but maybe that was because Nesta didn’t tiptoe around Az like most other people did. Maybe that was why he liked you so much. You didn’t shy under his gaze, and you didn’t treat him differently after noticing his scarred hands. 
Yes, he saw you watching, inspecting with hurt and curious eyes. But you didn’t say anything so neither did he. And when you purposely brushed your skin against his when you took that bag of bud, he knew you’d done it out of silent reassurance. 
And yet, he hadn’t heard from you since you met three days ago. Not that he expected you to message so soon, not after you said the 3.5 would last around two weeks, but he still felt that deep disappointment whenever he checked his phone and your name wasn’t the one to have messaged him. 
He needed to get a grip on himself, really. But you were different. So different from anyone he’d ever met or known before. You didn’t play up to any facade, you didn’t hesitate to tease him back. You were honest, painfully so when you admitted you were clueless, but that only made him find you even more endearing. 
“What about you?” Cassian’s voice drilled into his ears, abruptly pulling Azriel away from the memory of you. He quickly typed back a reply to a client that he could drop off within the hour and shoved his phone back in his pocket. 
“What about me?” Az asked. 
“Any plans?” 
Azriel shrugged, elbows leaning on his spread thighs and the oak coffee table creaked beneath his firm weight. “I’ve got a few deals to do, but that’s about it.”
Cass nodded, finally unfolding his arms and letting them drop to his sides. “Well, you know where I’ll be if you wanna come by, Nes would be happy to see you.”
Azriel raised a brow. “I saw her two days ago.”
His brother gave him a look, one that suggested ‘yeah, I know, but you’re like her best friend and she loves you to literal death’, and that was that. 
Cass left soon after, picking Nesta up from work and leaving Azriel home alone for what seemed like the thousandth night in a row. He didn’t mind it, not really. He enjoyed his own company and when Cass stayed at Nesta’s and Rhys stayed at Feyre’s, it meant Az could play around with new melodies and not be scolded for playing guitar at 4 a.m. and waking everybody up. 
Having the apartment to himself was a win-win for everyone involved. 
Only tonight, he didn’t want to sit and play with new sounds and rhythms. Not when his mind was completely distracted by you. By your smile, your eyes, by that sensual voice of yours that he hadn’t stopped replaying in his memory for the past three days. 
It wouldn’t hurt to send just one text, right? Just the one, just to check in on how you were finding the bud. As if you hadn't smoked it before they met. 
He shouldn’t. This wasn’t what he did—he didn’t chase after girls, he never had, and he most certainly did not get hooked—especially not on someone he’d known for three days. 
And yet, despite that, Azriel found himself on your messages, hovering his fingers over the keyboard and typing out a quick text and sending it before he could even think about it. 
Azriel: how’s the bud?
But it wasn’t his lack of thinking before sending the message that had his jaw slack, no. It was the fact that as soon as the message travelled from the box to the messaging thread, you had already opened it. Like you were already on the chat. Perhaps debating your own text to him. 
Those grey bubbles appeared at the bottom of the screen and Azriel made quick work to click out of the conversation. His heart should not have been stammering in his chest the way it was, he should not have felt so anxious about what you may think if he read your text as quickly as you read his. 
You: very good. And you were right. 7 joints! 
And then, another.
You: I may need a top up sooner than i thought, if that’s ok?
Azriel: what happened to it lasting you 2 weeks?? Nah, that’s fine. Did you wanna meet up tonight?
You: would that be ok?
Azriel: yes. Old tower in 20?
You: life saver <3 see u then!
He tried his damned hardest not to stare at the little heart you sent him, tried his best not to picture you thinking about texting him to meet up again. But all he tried, it didn’t work and a smirk began to tug at the corners of his mouth. 
//
His Ford Mustang parked outside the Old Tower fifteen minutes later, the engine still humming softly and his eyes flitted between the rearview mirror and his view in front of him, trying to gauge which way you’d come from. 
He didn’t expect for you to come out of the shadows in a third direction, one in the wake of the passengers side, and he didn’t realise until the door opened and you slid your body inside his car, shutting the door behind you. 
“Hi,” you turned to him with a beaming smile—eyes gently blazed with a moody pink hue. 
Azriel drank you in. Your hair was down today in what he presumed was your natural waves, face bare of makeup save for the sheen of pinky lip gloss that coated your mouth. You wore an oversized cropped olive cardigan; the large buttons done up just enough to offer a slither of a peek of the white bralette you wore beneath, and a pair of straight-legged black cargos. 
Gods, you looked even better than he remembered, but Azriel wasn’t naive to your staring either. Your eyes caught notice of his thick, muscled arms. They weren’t hidden beneath a jacket this time. No. They bulged from the black t-shirt he wore, and his brown skin was etched in intricate swirls and shapes and designs in black ink. 
You gulped, visibly so. Tattoos had always been an immediate attraction for you—not that Brandon ever had any—but the sight of Azriels and the one that hid beneath the sleeve of his top and curled up and around his neck… Gods, your throat felt extremely dry.
And Azriel noticed everything. 
“I thought you said you didn’t smoke much?” 
Your eyes finally snapped to his hazel ones and warmth coated your cheeks and chest. You cleared your throat, blinking a few times to regain some sense of composure. “I don’t,” you retorted. “Girls night. And it was my turn to host.” 
Azriel tried not to think too deeply into the idea of you having a night at home with your girlfriends, stoned and warm and cosy and all inhibitions thrown out the window. He wondered if those were the types of things you did with your friends. He’d been with a few before that did. 
He looked away as soon as he felt that familiar tightening in his jeans. “So, you want another 3.5?” He cleared his throat, lifting the compartment between your seats. 
You hummed, eyes following his movements. Your gaze lingered on his biceps for a moment, trailing down to the veins that protruded from his smooth skin. You didn’t know what was wrong with you. Oftentimes than not, you found yourself horny and riled up when under the influence, but never like this. Never so strongly at the sight of two veiny, tattooed arms. 
“Um, yeah… please.” You finally spoke. “I promise it’ll last me longer than three days this time.”
Azriel prayed to the fucking mother above that it didn’t. But he didn’t say anything. Instead, he retrieved a 3.5 baggie and handed it to you, closing the compartment again and the second he opened his mouth to speak, you were already grabbing a marred hand and shoving two twenty’s into it before forcing his fist closed. 
Perhaps it was the buzz of the joint you smoked on your way, or perhaps it was the pure arousal you felt at the sight of him and the feel of his hand in yours that gave you a surge of confidence. Whatever it was, it had you saying, “Pretty clients might get a discount from you, but incredibly attractive, tattooed plugs get full pay from me.”
Azriel was stunned for a moment, by both your boldness and the shameless compliment. His mouth blubbered open, a retort just as flirty as yours on the tip of his tongue when the sound of his ringtone blaring through the car’s bluetooth speaker cut him off. 
He disconnected the call a bit too quickly, an amused smile teetering on the curves of your already twisted lips. Azriel paid no mind to his own actions, instead turning back to you with a fire in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. 
His lips parted in another attempt to speak when that gods-dammed phone interrupted him for a second time and you could no longer hold your laughter. Azriel decided there and then that the next time he saw you, he’d make sure he heard that sweetness again. 
You didn’t give him time to cut the call off again. Instead, you reached for the door handle and offered a grateful smile. “I’ll text you when I’m out.”
His senses were too on overdrive. Too torn between wanting to stop you, even if to spend a few more moments in your presence, and the deafening sound of his fucking phone. But you’d exited the car and closed the door behind you before he could do anything about it. The cash was still stuffed in his warm hands and the incoming call continued to make his ears bleed. 
“What?” Azriel seethed the second he answered the call. It was silent for a moment, the caller caught off guard by Az’s tone but that only pissed him off further. 
“It’s Brandon,” the line paused for a moment again. “You about?” 
Azriel felt his blood boil. “If I don’t fucking answer the first time, that usually means no.”
He disconnected the call without another word, marred hands now gripping the wheel until his knuckles turned white. He hated the way he was reacting over you—over being interrupted from your presence. But he couldn't help it. Couldn’t get the thought out of his head of how sweet your lips probably tasted with that gloss. And without it. 
Azriel’s chest heaved slightly, that all too familiar sense of arousal tightening in his pants. He couldn’t stand this, couldn't understand how a tiny slip of your bralette could have his mind and body reacting like this. How a subtle smirk and a sultry gaze could have him ready to blow a load in his pants. 
Christ, he needed to sort himself out. Absent-mindedly, Azriel snuck a hand between his thighs, large scarred hand palming at his length through the fabrics. His breathing turned quicker, his moments growing needier. If he didn’t sort himself out soon he’d been in agony. 
With one hand on the wheel, he forced himself to drive—only for a moment or two until his Mustang was parked idly between two buildings and switched off the engine to not draw too much attention to himself. 
He was above this—above getting himself off semi-publicly. But he couldn’t fucking help it. He didn’t care how shameful and icky he might’ve felt afterwards, not when he was so desperate. 
As soon as the car was covered in shadows of darkness, he unclasped his seatbelt and unpopped the buttons of his jeans. He didn’t bother to pull them down, only releasing the zip and reaching into his boxers to tug his length free. 
The second he felt his skin on him, he shuddered. His slender fingers wrapped around his thick shaft, offering himself a teasing squeeze as he slowly moved. Azriel didn’t need lube or lotion—not when pearly beads of semi-translucent arousal leaked from his pink, ruddy tip. He smoothed it down his length, mewling at the contact he rewarded himself. 
And all he could think about was you. 
Your eyes, your lips, your voice.
He let his mind wander to sinful images of what may lay hidden beneath your clothes—beneath that little white bralette. Azriel quickened his pace as his eyes fluttered closed, the back of his head hitting the headrest. He throbbed in his hand, a gruff moan tearing from his throat. 
Azriel could picture you clearly in his head; on your knees in the footwell, your dainty hands around his cock as your lips kissed and sucked him. His hand in your hair, bobbing you on his length, watching your eyes water from the size of him as he hit the back of your throat. 
His breathing grew ragged, filthy images of your choking on his cock filling his brain, clouding his sensing and coaxing a release out of him. Azriel didn’t think he’d ever come so quickly before in his life, but the idea of you looking up at him with sultry eyes through thick lashes had him spurting warm ribbons of cum into his hand as he cupped his head to minimise the mess. A desperate attempt to replicate what he imagined the warmth of your mouth would feel like. 
As his breathing began to even out, the post-nut clarity hit him like a ton of fucking bricks. Shame boiled in his blood, a tint of pink embarrassment painted on his cheeks as if the shadows judged him, too. The idea of seeing you again while knowing what he’d done to the thought of you… it made his insides churn slightly. 
But more than that, it made his cock leap again in anticipation of soon being in your presence once more. 
//
“Az, what do you say? Up for a double date?” 
Feyre couldn’t hide her smile, unable to keep her emotions in check when it came to her attempts to set Azriel up. But the instant disappearance of his smile wasn’t missed on her. Nor was the way his shoulders tensed slightly. 
He sighed. “Fey, as much as I appreciate your concern for my love life, I don’t need to be set up.”
She pouted at him. Despite that always being his answer, she still held a shred of hope every time she suggested it. Even if he never changed his mind, she was willing to continuously try, even if he did find it annoying. Even if she didn’t tell him until the very last minute. 
“Who’s the lucky girl then, Az?” Nesta piped up with a wide grin from her seat in the couch, tucked closely into Cassian’s side who paid no mind to the conversation at hand. 
He rolled his eyes at her. “There is no girl.” 
“Guy, then.” Nesta scoffed, waving a hand. 
Azriel didn’t want to entertain this conversation, especially not because it had somehow brought his mind back to you. Something he’d been so desperately trying to avoid. 
Though, he supposed it was inevitable. He would be seeing you again at some point and then he’d be stuck right back where he started. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure why he was doing this to himself— why he didn’t allow himself to pursue you if that was what he truly wanted. 
His phone chimed from his pocket. 
In hindsight, it was probably a good thing that Azriel didn’t hear from you for two weeks. It gave him ample time to attempt to get his hormones in check, but it didn’t stop his blood from warming everytime he received a notification. Each time, he was left with slight disappointment to find it was just another client. 
Until today. Until now. Where your name was in fact the one on his lockscreen and all of that forgetting and willing to get you out of his mind faltered. 
You: Hey, are you free later?
Azriel: I'm free all night.
When you didn’t respond, Azriel assumed you were looking for a more direct answer. So he sent another text. 
Azriel: old tower in an hour good for you?
You: see you then.
He couldn’t help the frown that furrowed in his brows at your reply. Given, your only communication was mainly through text, and perhaps he was looking too much into it, but you didn't seem yourself. And that thought shouldn’t have irked him as much as it did. 
He barely bid anyone a goodbye, throwing a mumbled ‘see you later’ as he grabbed his shit and left. 
His first stop was to Sean, a lean Asian guy that had been buying off Azriel for two years now. He was decent enough, never tried to haggle or complain about the prices. They shared a mutual respect and minimal words were shared when Az handed him a Q and Sean gave 140 in one swift motion. 
And just like that, Azirel moved onto the next.
And then another. 
And another. 
Until he was waiting at the Old Tower and watching your silhouette approach the Mustang. You entered the car just like you always had done, though you didn’t meet his gaze this time. Instead, you kept your line of view ahead. Your hair obstructed the side of your face, effectively shielding you from his prying eyes. 
“Sorry I’m a little late.” 
Azriel absolutely did not like the quake in your voice as you spoke, nor did he like the way you seemed to cower into your body and clothes. Clothes that didn’t seem to match your usual vibe—instead, the mismatched black sweatpants and bright pink puffer jacket gave off the impression you threw on whatever was around you. 
Somehow, Azriel still thought you made it look good. On you, the outfit looked both planned and effortless. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that that wasn’t the case. 
“You good?” he asked through the piercing silence. 
You hummed, twisting the bulky silver ring on your thumb. “Yeah, just tired.” You tried your hardest to offer a convincing smile as you turned to him, but Azriel noticed the way it didn’t meet your eyes—the eyes that appeared slightly bloodshot, though he had a suspicion it wasn’t from smoking.
Not wanting to press on the matter, Az opened the compartment and pulled out a baggie of your usual amount and kept it pinched between two scarred fingers. You reached for it, the cash in your other hand but he kept his grip tight. 
Azriel raised a brow. “You’re sure you’re alright?” 
You could see the concern flood his hazel eyes, and the sight pulled on your aching heartstrings. How could someone who was a virtual stranger care more for you than the ones who were much closer in your life?
You didn’t trust your words, so you nodded and he finally released his hold on the bag. “Alright,” Az sighed. “It’s a different strain than my usual stuff, so go a little lighter with it. It’s pretty strong.” 
You were incredibly thankful for the warning, though you couldn’t help feeling a little offended. Did he really think you were so naive and new to this world that you couldn’t handle a new strain at your usual strength (which, admittedly, was very weak) without greening out? 
But as quickly as that feeling rose, it faded. He was a dealer, afterall, and he couldn’t afford to lose business all because someone thought they knew better and had a bad trip. 
“Thank you,” you muttered out, already reaching for the handle when his ruggedly soft voice stopped you. 
“You wanna smoke before you go? I can drop you back after.” 
You whipped your head to him, blinking through slightly blurred vision. With a brow raised and widened eyes, your lips parted. “Together?”
A smile stretched across his full lips, one so full of charisma and keen interest that it awakened something deep in the pit of your stomach. Something you distinctly remember feeling the last time you saw him. 
“Why not?” 
You swallowed as your hand slowly fell from the handle and made its way back in your lap. Your smile morphed into a smirk that matched his and the air shifted into something unreadable. Something palpable but not quite real. 
“Really? Do you normally smoke with your clients?” 
Azriel’s wicked grin widened. “I do with the cute ones.” 
You choked on a laugh, rolling your head back until it hit the headrest and Azriel didn’t think he’d ever seen or heard anything so fucking beautiful in his life. That laugh would haunt him in his dreams to a blissful paradise. 
“First, I’m pretty. Now I’m cute… what’s next?” 
Damn the rules he set himself. Damn the restrictions he forced when it came to someone who piqued his interest. It was about time Azriel took what he wanted for once. Even if that meant he started with no longer feeling guilty for flirting with you. 
Chewing at the inside of his cheek, Azriel started up the engine and shifted the gearstick. “Guess you’ll have to wait and find out.” 
He tilted his head to the dashboard compartment and you pulled it open. The small warm white light lit the cove, a golden hue casting on a small yellow tin. Throwing a glance to Azriel, he nodded and you pulled it out, closing the compartment and popping open his travel tin. 
It was packed with perfectly rolled joints and blunts. The smell was strong—potent—but you didn’t mind. Not as much as you had before. You picked one random of the bunch and pinched it between two fingers. It was rolled tightly and packed full, a very small twist of paper at the end and you hummed, impressed. 
Of course he could roll perfectly. And you had a feeling just two pulls of one of those would keep you warm and fuzzy for the remainder of the night. 
“There’s a lighter in the cup holder.” Azriel spoke as he pulled out of the space and began to drive further out of the lights of the city. 
You pinched the lighter. Just a simple black one, no funky pattern or engraved initials like most others had. No, Azriel’s was one that came in a pack of five and the other four were somewhere in the car or back at his apartment. 
“We can smoke in here?” you asked softly, that crack in your voice easing. 
Az hummed, taking a right turn. “If you’re comfortable to.”
You waited a moment, eyeing the joint and then him. “You drive when you smoke?” 
He seemed to notice your somewhat apprehension when he nodded again. He turned to you briefly before flicking his eyes back on the road again. “I drive better when I’m stoned. But if you’d prefer, we can park up somewhere.” 
You shook your head, warmth caressing every inch of your body. You didn’t know what it was, but something had overcome you. An overwhelming sense of pure yearning. You could admit when you first met Az that he was attractive, incredibly so. But now? Watching him, speaking with him, smoking with him… oh God’s… you had a fucking crush on your plug. 
“You wanna start it or should I?” Azriel’s voice broke you from your epiphany and you blinked quickly, willing the rising heat to just fuck off and give you a moments reprive. 
“Oh,” you squeaked. “You can, it’s your weed.” 
He didn’t look away from the road, not for a second. With a hand on the wheel and the other shifting gears, he edged his head closer to yours and angled his face just slightly with his lips parted. You were stunned for a moment, realising what he was asking you to do, and you swallowed back that bubbling arousal as you placed the unlit joint to his lips and sparked up a flame, igniting the end.
Az hummed in thanks as he took a long, deep drag. You couldn’t take your eyes off him. He was a fucking sight. Cheeks ever so slightly hollowed and eyes barely squinted as the smoke filled his lungs. 
A scarred hand left the gearstick to reach for the joint, his thumb reaching for the bottom while his forefinger grazed the top and he pulled it away with another fresh intake of breath, settling the drug further. 
You were soaked, you were sure of it. Your previous problems from today were a distant memory as you finally watched him exhale and bring the joint to his lips again for another long pull. 
The sound of the windows opening broke you from your trance and only then did you realise you hadn’t yet put on your seatbelt. You tore your gaze away to clip yourself in and when you turned back, Azriel was offering you the joint. 
With your free hand, you accepted it, the other stuffing the cash in his cup holder with the lighter. You inspected the joint, tried not to let your heart race. You’d only ever smoked with your friends and Brandon. Never with a dealer. Never with someone like Azriel. 
You slotted your pursed lips over the same area Az did, and inhaled as deeply as you could. The burn at the back of your throat was stronger than when you smoked your own joints, and as it filled your lungs you pulled it away and held back a cough that gagged to release from your throat. 
With a shaky exhale, you swallowed around the dryness of your mouth before bringing it back to your lips for another drag. When you pulled it away, the burn wasn’t as bad and you passed it back to Azriel who took another turn on the roads. 
“Where are we going?” You pondered, a certain rasp to your voice from the strength of the joint. 
Azriel took two short pulls and angled the burning end out the window, flicking off the excess ash before offering it to you again. 
“Wherever you want,” he replied. “But first, we should probably get some food for when the munchies kick in.” 
You laughed as you exhaled another breath and handed the joint back to him, waving a hand to signal you were tapping out and did not intend on smoking anymore. Five pulls of that shit was more than enough for you. You could not handle the idea of greening out in his car with him. 
Azriel stifled a laugh and finished off the rest of the joint by the time he pulled into a drive-thru. He placed his order first, turning to you with flushed cheeks and hazy eyes. You blinked a few times, your brain requiring a few moments to catch up with what was happening. 
“I’ll have the same as you.” 
He stifled a laugh as he spoke into the machine, doubling up on his order and driving through to the next window. Azriel paid no mind to you when you attempted to offer him your money—barely even looked at you as he tapped his card against the reader and then reached for the cash in the cup holder, shoving it back in your empty palms. 
“You can keep that, too.”
You knew it wasn’t up for discussion, so you begrudgingly took your cash back and stuffed it into your jacket pocket again. Az stopped in the parking lot, the two of you eating through hushed yet uncontrollable giggles at the people that passed by. 
It was the first time you’d heard his laugh so unrestricted and it spread another shot of warmth through your body. It continued like that for another undisturbed hour, where after the food, Az sparked up another joint and began the drive to your apartment. You’d told him Old Tower was fine, but he wasn’t okay with that. 
“Too many freaks around at this time of night. I’ll drop you to your door. Put your address in the GPS.”
And it wasn’t until the drive back to your apartment that you were reminded of your previous troubles. The ones that caused your teary eyes and sombre mood. The buzz off the night felt like it had dwindled away the second you thought of your situation, and you were left slumped in your seat again, fiddling with your fingers. 
Azriel noticed your change in mood almost immediately as he glanced over to you before flicking his eyes back to the road. He took another drag of the joint. 
“Do you want to talk about it?”
You pondered his offer for a few moments, weighing out whether or not you should. In the end, what difference would it make? If you divulge your issues or not, it wouldn’t fix them. But perhaps talking about it might help. 
“My sister got married yesterday and no one told me.”
Azriel blinked rapidly, almost spluttering on the breath he exhaled. “What?” 
“Yeah.” 
He waited patiently, eager for some sort of explanation as to how and why something like that was kept from you. But he didn’t know the relationship with your family, he couldn’t presume anything. For all he knew, you had troubles just like his. 
“My family and I didn’t have the best relationship growing up. I was born from a toxic relationship so I was cast aside as a kid, I guess. I thought we were past that, though. I thought things were better.”
That familiar ache sat heavy in Azriel’s chest. He knew all too well the hurt that came from being shunned by your own family. He wouldn’t wish that upon anyone. Especially not somebody like you. 
“I’m sorry.” His words held such compassion and sympathy. No pity, just pure understanding. 
You blinked back the tears, not wanting to show just how much it had all affected you. But it was no use. A single drop slipped down your cheek and as quickly as it fell, you wiped it away. 
You were agitated now, extremely so. “I didn’t even know she had a boyfriend, Az.”
“Why would they do that?”
There was a pause. And then, “because her now husband was my first everything.” 
You waited for the statement to settle into the thick night air. Your first kiss, first boyfriend, first time. First love. Azriel could understand even more now just how much it hurt you. And the fact they kept it a secret? Even your family knew what they did was wrong. 
“I’m so sorry, that’s truly fucked. But you know, families suck sometimes. I only speak to my mom.”
“Oh?” You hadn’t realised you were even on your street until he parked right outside your apartment and flicked on his hazards. 
Azriel flicked the but of the smoke out the window and held out his hands, showcasing the marred flesh and patchy skin. “My half brothers did this to me when I was eight. They didn’t like that our mom had me with another man before she had them. They said that my bastard blood tainted the family, so they wanted to taint me.” 
Azriel had absolutely no fucking idea why he was divulging such an intimate and traumatic part of himself. But he made no attempt to hide or sugarcoat any of the truth. Especially not when he looked up from his hands and caught sight of your face. 
Salty tears silvered the linings of your eyes at the truth of what had happened to him. Bile crept up your throat and hatred for his family formed. Eight years old. You felt sick. 
“Az… I’m so sorry. That’s… I can’t even…”
But Azriel waved it off with a gentle smile. “It’s awful, sure. But I’m fine. I wouldn’t have met Cass and Rhys if that didn’t happen. They may be my found family, but they’re my brothers. Blood doesn't mean shit to me.
A single tear slipped down your warm cheek, staining the skin in its wake. Azriel reached out to wipe it away, his touch gentle and soft and yet all-consuming. Your gaze met in a flickering glance of hazy eyes and fluttering lashes. 
And then next thing you knew, your lips were on his. 
Azriel was quick to kiss you back; moulding his plump lips around yours as his large palms cupped the sides of your face. He was sweet on your mouth, a hint of salt from his fries and he swiped his tongue across the seam of your lips, you almost imploded. 
Azriel was no better. The second he got a taste, he was a starved man. Your tongues met in needy strokes and Az had never tasted anything like you before. Sweet like the watermelon lip gloss you wore, and a tang of smoke that haunted your mouth. 
He was hooked, desperately fucking hooked. Your own hands reached up to hold his wrists in hopes of keeping his touch on you. Azriel kissed you deeper, licking across your teeth before settling even deeper in your mouth. 
It was needy and messy and every unspoken word of desire was poured into that kiss, your touch. He could stay like that forever, kissing you, tasting you. Azriel could feel himself stretching in his pants, and from the almost inaudible whimper that strained from the back of your throat, he was certain you were just as needy between your own thighs. 
The thought spurred him on, as it did you. Your hands trailed down his forearms to his biceps, feeling at the muscle that tensed beneath your touch, until your arms were wrapping around his neck and he was pulling you closer over the centre console. 
Azriel kept a palm caressing your jaw while the other snaked to the side of your neck, his long fingers weaving through the hair at your nape and blunt fingernails scratching at your scalp. 
In your drug and lust filled haze, Azriel was shifting in his seat. You let one arm leave his body to reach for your seatbelt, planning to unbuckle it and crawl into his lap for a deeper, richer taste of him. 
But the second the safety belt was released, the blaring sound of an incoming call through the car's speaker jolted you both apart. It was then, and only then, that the gravity of the situation finally sunk in. 
His eyes were glazed over with something you’d never seen on him before, his lips even plumper and smeared with your gloss. You didn’t look much better. Only your eyes were wider than his and your hair had been a lot more dishevelled. 
Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, the insistent ringing of his phone jarring your eardrums. For the fourth time tonight, warmth settled over you again but in the form of embarrassment. He confided in you about a trauma so deep, and you’d kissed him. 
“I’m sorry,” you apologised breathlessly. 
Too caught up in your own fear and anxiety of what you’d done, you missed the way Azriel’s brows furrowed. His confusion quickly turned into panic when the thought settled in that perhaps you had regretted it. That even though you kissed him, perhaps you felt he had pressured you. 
And that made him sick to his stomach. 
Before Azriel could utter a single word, your hand was on the door handle and you were pushing it open. “I’m sorry, I should go.” 
You climbed out of the car as you uttered another apology, and slapped the door shut without so much as offering him another glance. The incoming call died to voicemail but Az couldn’t take his eyes off your empty seat, couldn’t get the taste of you off his tongue, the feel of your lips off his. 
Frustration grew at himself. Azriel turned forward in his seat, nostrils flared and teeth grit. He’d fucked it. He’d gone and fucked it entirely. His open palm smacked against the wheel before gripping it tightly, taking a moment to compose himself. 
He looked over at your seat again. 
Despite the lack of your physical presence, you were still there. In scent and touch and taste. 
Azriel was fucking done for. 
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Add yourself to the tag list here :) | Series Masterlist
Thank you for reading!! If you enjoyed it, please give it a like and reblog and let me know what you thought!! <3
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(Sorry if you didn’t get a notification!! It doesn’t let me tag some of you guys!!)
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grandprixprincess · 2 months ago
Text
hermana part 2 || ln4
lando norris x fem!reader smau + written
part 1!
warnings: some language, slightly steamy scene (no smut but mdni!!), carlos being a protective big brother and lando being down bad
a/n: thanks for all the love on part 1! I decided to do a mix of written + smau for this part. requests are open for smau and text fics <3
landonorris posted
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liked by maxfewtrell, yourusername, maxverstappen1, and others
landonorris perfect day in the sun with the best company. getting lots of rest and relaxation before the triple header 🤙
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user1 "best company" aka just y/n
user2 wait she was with him again today??? user1 yes! f1gossip just posted the photos. they were alone all day 👀
user3 omg this means y/n took these pics! y/n.jpg when?
maxfewtrell looks like my invite got lost
user4 💀💀💀
yourusername ☀️🤗
user5 queen y/n thank u for taking these great pics
f1gossip posted
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liked by user1, user2, and others
f1gossip Lando Norris and Y/N Y/L/N were spotted getting cozy this afternoon. The two embarked on a private yacht for an afternoon filled with swimming and laughter. Eyewitnesses say the two were alone all afternoon. It seems like things are rapidly heating up with these two. The next time Y/L/N is seen in the paddock, will she be rocking red ❤️ or papaya 🧡?
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user2 LANY/N NATION WAKE UP
user3 i can't believe lany/n is real omg
user1 right?? people used to ship them during the carlando mclaren days and now it's REAL
user4 the hand placement omgggg
user5 i wonder what carlos thinks
user2 who cares? it's their lives not his
user6 y/n in papaya at the austin gp pleaseee
user5 ain't no way. she'll always support carlos first, he is basically her brother
yourusername posted a close friends story
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story replies:
yourbestfriend not the private yacht on the FIRST DATE
yourusername technically our first date is tomorrow night yourbestfriend literally stfu you know what i meant
carlossainz55 don't stay out too late
yourusername 🙄
landonorris posted a close friends story
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story replies:
maxfewtrell did you tell her that you've been secretly in love with her for like 5 years yet or
landonorris OBVIOUSLY NOT i'm trying to play it cool
oscarpiastri I think I missed a chapter
carlossainz55 get my sister back home early cabrón
landonorris leave us alone carlos carlossainz55 excuse me? landonorris NO SORRY THAT WAS Y/N SHE TOOK MY PHONE landonorris I'll make sure she gets home safe mate! 👍
You giggled as you watched Lando frantically type a message back to Carlos. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself!"
You played with the stem of your wine glass. It had been a dream of a day. You were now sharing a bottle of wine together to end the night.
"Your brother is going to have my head!" He finished typing his message out, feeling satisfied, before setting his phone back down.
Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you said, "You know he isn't really my brother, right?"
Lando chuckled. "You try telling him that."
"Yeah, yeah, I know." You swirled your glass a bit, taking another sip. "He's always been protective like that."
Lando let out another chuckle. "Oh trust me, I know."
His response and tone piqued your interest. You turned your head towards him, seeing a sly smile on his handsome face. "What do you mean?"
Lando opened and closed his mouth for a few moments, contemplating his words. Finally, he spoke. "I may have tried to ask you out in the past, but Carlos sort of, put a stop to it."
Your jaw dropped in shock. "What?!" You tried to fully understand what he was saying. "When was this exactly?"
Without hesitation, Lando responded, "During Carlos' last year in McLaren."
The shock was evident on your face. Silence rang in the air as you tried to find your words. Lando took the opportunity to speak again.
"And again during his first year in Ferrari."
"What?!" You couldn't believe what you were hearing. When Carlos was at McLaren, you were taking a few years off from school to travel. Traveling the world ended up being easy to do when Carlos agreed to let you tag along to all the races as his "assistant". Carlos was on a new team in F1 with a rookie teammate that was your age. You and Lando became friends quickly, and it wasn't long until you began to harbor a crush on him.
It was a secret only you and Y/BSF/N knew about. You definitely didn't tell Carlos, because you knew how that would go.
Once Carlos left McLaren, you went back to school and your appearances at the races dwindled down to one or two a year. You and Lando went from spending every weekend together running around the paddock, to seeing each other in passing as you made your way to Ferrari and he made his way to McLaren.
"That little shit. I'm going to kill him."
You weren't sure if it was the wine or just how carefree and fun everything with Lando was, but you couldn't stop the fit of giggles that escaped you. After a few moments, Lando joined you in your laughter. Tears began to escape both your eyes.
As the laughter died down, the moment suddenly felt very intimate. Lando's face was extremely close, the rest of the world melting away. "I'm pretty sure I started having a crush on you after that first race weekend." You suddenly felt shy, but you couldn't stop the confession from slipping out.
Now it was Lando's turn to express his surprise, his eyes widening for a moment. He searched your face for a moment, almost like he was waiting for you to tell him you were kidding. Finally, he spoke.
"I really want to kiss you."
You were grateful that the sun had fully gone down now, so there was minimal lighting to help hide the blush creeping on your cheeks. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you whispered out, "Why don't you?"
Lando's adoring gaze had you captivated. "I've wanted to do it for so long now," he confessed, "I want to do it right."
You couldn't help the sly smirk on your face as you teased, "I think we've been pining after each other long enough, don't you think?"
Lando reached his hand forward, cradling your cheek in his hand. His thumb brushed against your cheek, causing goosebumps down your arms.
You wanted to live in this moment forever; Lando being this close, his lips inches from yours. Finally, you both instinctively moved forward, your lips colliding after what felt like an eternity.
You both stilled for a moment, trying to rack your brains over the realization that this was actually and finally happening. After a few seconds, you melted into the kiss, sliding your hands up to rest around his neck.
The two of you moved in sync. It felt like your lips were made for each other. Lando's hand around your head tightened, while his second hand found its home on your waist. One of your hands slide up Lando's neck and into his hair, playing with his curls lightly.
Lando slightly pinched your waist, causing you to gasp, which allowed for his tongue to sneak in. You responded with a slight tug on his curls, causing a groan to escape out of him and into your mouth.
You giggled slightly, breaking the kiss for a moment. "You like that, huh?"
Even though it was dark, you could see how Lando's eyes darkened. With no shame, he responded, "Yes," suddenly his hands slipped down, grabbing your thighs and easily moving you to straddle his lap, "You have no idea the effect anything you do has on me."
Now you were sure it was the wine giving you confidence when you ground your body down to feel his already hard erection. "Oh, I think I have somewhat of an idea." Your hands slipped back into his curls at the nape of his neck, tugging softly.
You relished in the way that Lando's eyes fluttered shut, his hands moving to your hips, guiding them as you continued to grind your body with his.
Lando was putty in your hands. You began to feel the heat in your core. You tugged on Lando's curls again, pulling his head back and eliciting a small moan from his lips.
Bringing your head down, your lips connected with his jaw, peppering him with open mouth kisses on both sides of his face before moving down to his neck.
Lando continued guiding the movement of your hips, his hands tightening around your waist and moving them faster as he felt your lips on his neck. You couldn't hold back the moan that escaped your lips, letting it ring out right in Lando's ear.
Lando was sure he was in heaven. Your moans were music to his ears.
He let one hand leave your hip and travel to your face, bringing you back towards his lips. Your lips collided again, this time with more urgency and desperation.
You both couldn't believe that you had let all these years go by wasted, when you could've been doing this the whole time. You were kissing each other like your lives depended on it.
Lando's hand moved up and down your sides, squeezing slightly, causing another moan to escape from you, and allowing his tongue entrance again.
You moved your hands down his chest, and began to play with the hem of his shirt.
Lando suddenly broke the kiss, breaking the blissful bubble you two had been caught up in.
"We should stop."
You felt fear creep up on you. Had you done something wrong? Did he not want this anymore? As if he could read your worries on your face, he softly brought his lips to yours again for a moment.
"Trust me, I don't want to stop," he began, chuckling lightly, "but I told you. I want to do this right."
You softened at his words. "You're right." You lazily played with his curls again. "Feels like we have to make up for so much lost time, but I'm not going anywhere."
Lando chuckled. "Me either. Now that I know you want me like I want you, you're never getting rid of me." Lando gave you a goofy grin. He moved his hand up, playing with a strand of your hair for a moment before tucking it behind you ear, "I could spend all night making up for lost time, and even then I guarantee I would be leaving wanting more."
You blushed, grateful again for the minimal lighting. Words lost you. Instead, you just gazed lovingly into Lando's eyes.
"Plus, Carlos told me to make sure you're home early, so..."
Lando relished in the way you rolled your eyes and chuckled softly.
The two of you always felt deep down that you had missed out on something great with each other. Now the universe was giving you a second chance to act on it.
yourusername posted
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liked by yourbestfriend, iamrebeccad, landonorris, charles_leclerc, and others
yourusername 🌊🤙🖕
tagged: carlossainz55, iamrebeccad
view all comments
user1 not tagging lando is crazy 💀 girl we know
user2 shhhh let them cook up a soft launch user3 why would she tag him in this tho user1 that's literally lando's jolly lol
charles_leclerc hahaha the last photo
yourusername yeah that's actually me to carlos rn charles_leclerc never a dull moment with you two 😂😂
user2 her and lando used the same emoji. she posts his car but doesn't tag. he's in the likes. the soft launch of the century is about to begin. in this essay, I will-
user4 carlos in that pic is him reading these comments fr
user5 lando behind the camera of that first pic like 😍🤳
user1 we need y/n on lando.jpg stat
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As you waited impatiently for Carlos to return home, your phone chimed, signaling another text had come through. You rolled your eyes, thinking it would be another message from Carlos, but you felt your heart skip a beat seeing Lando's name across your screen.
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"Maybe Carlito thought you didn't like him, and was trying to help you out."
You stared at your sister's face on the screen in disbelief. "You're supposed to be on my side here."
Your sister laughed. "I am! I just also know Carlos wouldn't do something like this without a valid reason."
You heard a jingle at the door. "Speak of the devil, he's back."
"Call me later, don't give him a hard time, mana." She gave you a wave. "Oh, and have fun tomorrow night."
"I will, talk to you later." You gave your sister a wave back before ending the call.
You got up from your spot on the couch, walking towards the front door. You stood with your arms crossed as the door opened slowly. Suddenly Rebecca's head popped into view. You gave her a small smile.
"Your brother is behind me waving a white flag."
You couldn't help but laugh. "There shall be peace."
Carlos slowly came into view, his hands raised in defeat. He walked hesitantly towards you, waiting for you to react. Rebecca walked past you, giving your shoulder a light squeeze before disappearing into the bedroom.
"I don't want to argue, mano. I just don't understand."
Carlos stared at you for a moment before leading you back to the couch, sitting down and signaling you to do the same. "Listen, back then, you were so young and I was supposed to be looking after you on the road," he started, "and I know how it is once you get to F1. The fame, media, parties..." he paused for a moment, "The girls." He waited a beat before saying, "That's why I'm telling you to be careful with him now."
You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes. "Lando and I used to have movie nights every race weekend while you and other drivers would go out to clubs and party." You looked down, nervously playing with your hands. "And yeah, I know he does go out now and that he's been seen with different girls, but I know deep down he's still that same guy."
"You guys were kids back then, but now? Lando is usually the first to arrive and the last to leave the club now, always a different girl on his arm."
You finally looked Carlos in the eye, whispering out, "So you think I'm just another girl for him to flaunt around until he gets bored?" You felt your face get hot due to a mix of anger and shame. "I'm not good enough to be something real for him?"
The regret was evident on Carlos' face the second after you spoke. "No, no, hermana, you know that's not what I mean."
"Then what is it? Is it because he's your friend?"
Carlos chuckled. "No, no," he sighed, "I knew you liked him back then. I saw how you looked at him. That dreamy, goofy gleam in your eyes," he said, "and when Lando came to me and said he wanted to ask you out, I panicked."
You were listening intently now. "Why?" you whispered out.
"I think it was the first time I realized you were growing up. The idea of my hermanita dating anyone, nevertheless a driver, freaked me out." He laughed. "I just wanted to protect you from the craziness that comes with being with an F1 driver; I still do."
"Lando said he respects you, and that's why he stayed away back then. But now we're adults, and we're making our own decisions without interference from others." You couldn't stop the smile from creeping back onto your face. "I've always liked him, mano. I want to see where this goes."
Carlos couldn't help but match your smile. He liked seeing you this happy, and if that was because of Lando, then he was willing to be open-minded. "Okay, okay, I'm on board," he chuckled, "but I told you already. If he breaks your heart, he goes into the wall."
You rolled your eyes playfully. "You'd have to catch up to his rocketship in your tractor first."
Carlos' jaw dropped, disbelief written on his face. "I can't believe I've already lost you to the papaya army."
You let out a laugh, nudging his shoulder. "Hey, family always comes first. I'm a Ferrari girl first, papaya girlie second."
"Good, because that would be where I'd draw the line."
"I'm ready for next year, though. Blue is much more my color."
The two of you shared a laugh, before Carlos leaned over to end the moment with a hug. "I love you, hermanita."
"Love you too, Carlitos."
As you and Carlos embraced, you heard a door open slightly. Rebecca appeared, smile evident on her face, happy to see Carlos back in your good graces.
"Anyone down for a late night ice cream run?"
yourusername posted stories
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story 2 caption: making them pay for my ice cream like: 🥺 👉👈 i'm just a baby
story replies to story 1:
user1 LANY/N ANTHEM???
user2 "we were supposed to be just friends" omg omg omg
yourbestfriend dude has my girl posting love songs on main already 😭😭😭
yourusername 😂
landonorris is this what they call a soft launch
yourusername 😂🫣 maybe landonorris hmm brb yourusername huh?
story replies to story 2:
yoursister hahaha he really said here have some ice cream pls forgive me
yourusername no but fr 💀
user3 girl you can't just post that song and move on this quickly!!
landonorris posted a story
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story replies:
danielricciardo is little lando norris in love???
yourusername 🥹😭
landonorris ❤️
user1 oh ya'll are in LOVEEEE
user2 you guys ain't slick posting these back to back 😭
carlossainz55 thanks a lot, she won't stop playing this song now
oscarpiastri okay I DEFINITELY missed a chapter
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a/n: yep there will be a part 3 because I can't stop myself lol if you'd like to be tagged, let me know!
tag list: @npcmia @tinyhrry @that-one-little-soybean
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prael · 3 months ago
Text
Perks
Kinktember Day 10: Mirror
Twice Mina x male reader smut
words: 4,108 Kinktember Masterlist
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Do you ever look in the mirror and see someone who isn't you?
It was a simple question—if a rather loaded one.
"No," said Mina. "No, I don't think so. Not in a bad way, but maybe in disbelief of who I've become. Sometimes I expect to see the same person I was almost ten years ago. A simpler me. Maybe a more nervous and afraid version of me. That sort of thing."
"My therapist told me that was imposter syndrome," you said. "It's common, but it's pretty fucked up, the way we act like we're lying to ourselves."
"Have you thought of seeing her again?" Mina asked.
"God, that'd be awkward, don't you think?" you responded.
Mina paused, holding a glass midway to her mouth as if thinking, 'Between you and her or you and me?' Then she seemed to decide and smiled to herself, "Right."
Mina never erred into the intrusive or tactless. It's why you never have the impression that she is nosing around your life, because she gives you all the leeway to share only what you wish to share. And maybe that's why the both of you have lasted this long; in this arrangement, you found this unique level of trust, and you dare say it makes you damn good together.
"Our friend over there at the end of the bar looks like he can't take his eyes off you," you told her without looking up from your drink, not to draw attention. Mina chanced a discreet glance from the corner of her eye.
She quirked an eyebrow at you, "So? Feel threatened?"
You laughed into your drink before taking a mouthful of it, and then you told her, "I was about to get up, but you know that as soon as I do, he's going to come over."
"Of course, he will," Mina grinned into her own glass, then tipped her chin back to get at the last of it. "You go ahead to the room, I'll let him down gently." She patted at the front of your suit coat, above your breast pocket. It was a playful gesture. She had barely touched you all night until then.
"Early morning tomorrow, Mina, don't waste too much time now."
Mina smiled her "oh-shut-the-fuck-up" smile, before tucking a strand of stray hair behind her ear and running her fingers through the thick long black strands. You smiled to yourself and signalled to the bartender.
It's been a long day, and tomorrow will be longer still. Hotel bars had become a sort of ritual for you and Mina, you share a drink the day before you close a deal, half in premature celebration and half as a good luck charm.
And the thing is, Mina is a flirt. Through and through. Charm and wit. It works on clients, and it's an asset. The only problem is, it worked on you. It wasn't difficult to recognise your attraction for what it was, and she obviously took notice of it too. And you, well...
You're a professional, so you would never, ever let yourself act on it. This is why you returned to your room, alone, and why ten minutes later you heard the door open to her (conveniently joined) room. You're professionals, if you're going to fuck, at least you try to hide it.
The adjoining door opens. Oops, did you leave that unlocked? How silly of you.
"Sorry about the wait. Didn't want to seem rude, you know." She leans against the doorframe.
"How long after I left?"
"Barely a minute, he did the whole 'You-look-familiar' bit, so I humoured him..." Mina cocks a smile of arrogance. "For a minute. Before, you know... Letting him down gently."
"Did he go quietly, then?"
"He tried to ask me if I was sure I wanted to be alone." She shakes her head slowly as she saunters forward. "I was sure. Sure about coming up here and riding you senseless. Didn't tell him that, of course, just up and left. Anyway, for tomorrow, I was thinking—"
"Let's rewind to that part about riding me senseless, shall we?"
A playful smile takes to the corners of her mouth. "Let's."
You climb up from the bed, your shirt hangs loosely from your body, no tie at the neck and untucked from your trousers. "So, would you say it's going to be more of a—"
"If you are going to finish that with some terrible sex metaphor, I will kick your ass so hard." She kicks off her heels at the door. That long black dress she wore earlier is long gone, replaced by the lightest of sheer black chemises and a pair of little lacy black underwear.
"Kick my ass," you tell her, placing a hand on each of her hips. "Sure."
"Be quiet." She whispers it before she kisses you, deeply and softly. The sort of kiss that makes you forget yourself. Your arms circle her waist, and her arms rest on your shoulders. You savour it, the smell of her perfume, the taste of her tongue, the feeling of her hands trailing across the skin at the nape of your neck.
But in due time, that kiss breaks apart. Her hand trails down the front of your dress shirt, button by button, she has undressed you so many times now that the motion seems so familiar, and practised, but she still takes her time in doing it, as though with every undone button her anticipation is built upon.
You place your hand against the curve of her hip, thumbing gently, with feather-light touches along the black fabric, her small waist and wide hips, firm and round and so shapely in just her lingerie—your hands could have found no better resting place.
As you slip out of your shirt, Mina slips the delicate straps off her shoulders and the skimpy piece falls away from her body like petals around her feet. Mina is bare for you, save for her panties. Her tits might not be as big as her ass but your mouth still waters at the sight of them.
"Look at me." You love it when Mina demands that, love how she smiles with smug confidence when you have nothing to do but oblige her. Mina turns herself around, and your hands slide down, down the generous arch of her back and cups around her round, firm ass.
"Oh, come now," you can't help but tease her, "How very complacent of you, to think my eyes would look at nothing else but you. You know that I am a man of refined culture." You knead at the ample flesh in each palm, so soft. "I am very clearly an admirer of the finer things in life."
"How very romantic," she laughs, sliding down her underwear with a shimmy of her hips before placing her palms flat against the wall. "Go on then. Enjoy the art, like the cultured man you are."
There is something intoxicating about watching her there, propped against the wall, naked for you, your cock uncomfortable in your trousers. You unbuckle the clasp of the belt, then, in the pause, you approach, letting a single finger trace up the arch of her spine, leaning closer to her neck to whisper, "Not right here. Look over there, the mirror."
A floor-to-ceiling mirror, to be specific. She smiles a devilish little smirk. "And what of it?"
"Mina," you tell her, pressing the front of your trousers against the curves of her body, against the supple flesh of her ass. "I want to see all of you when we fuck. Every beautiful detail."
Mina purred, content. "Spoken like a poet..."
You land a solid and deliberate smack against that big ass of hers, and she lets out a groan. "Don't let it go to your head."
Mina let out an effectual moan, knowing fully how it tempts you. You roughly press your body against hers as she does it. Hooking both your arms around her naked form, you pull her to where you want her, right over to the mirror.
"That's it, take me like you want to." She presses her hand flat against the mirror, pushing back those delicious curves against your body once more. You force down your slacks and underwear until the cool air envelops you, at least until you push against her body once more. You cup both your hands at her full ass, slipping your stiffness between the cheeks and rocking back and forth. Mina is biting her bottom lip as she looks back at you in the mirror, and you look at nothing else but her deep dark eyes, her face framed by that long, dark, glorious hair.
"Your ass. This. This beautiful, beautiful thing of yours, drives men wild, drives me wild," you breathe out as she rocks herself back into your groping hands and your hard cock grinds between her cheeks, slow and methodic. "Drives me a little bit insane."
She deepens her bend, lowering her shoulders level to her ass, and her face presses against the glass. She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip again, peering over her shoulder, a shameless erotic, willing for you to take her in the most raw and depraved way. You can't deny the effect it has on you, and it has you raising your right arm, palm poised to land another satisfying spanking to her ass.
The crack rings out through the room, and she lets out a soft, sweet little, "Oh!"
You wrap a hand around her, over her stomach and down between her legs, reaching for her sweet, slick cunt, and find her soaked, wet with arousal. Wet for you.
"Fuck, you're so horny," you utter hoarsely. You drag your fingers through her juices as you drive your stiff cock over her tight asshole, so much teasing, maybe too much, perhaps too tortuous. You groan into the shell of her ear. "You get so wet for me. So wet. You need it so badly."
She moans, grinding back against you and circling her hips as if it could ease her pain. Half teasing, half goading, she says, "Maybe you should stop fucking playing around and do something about it."
She hisses when you drive your two slick fingers inside her without warning, pushing deeper in one smooth motion, as you mutter into the crook of her neck, "Impatient, aren't we, Mina?"
"Just fuck me."
In response, you slowly withdraw your fingers. She gasps against the mirror, the palm of her hand curling flat into a fist. Her words get you harder as she tries to wiggle her ass and spread herself, desperately trying to draw your dick to the slick pink centre of her sex for you. She doesn't care anymore what this does to your discipline, doesn't care at the prospect of you breaking, turning this into a savage, ravaging of her body; what matters only, at this very instant, is that she gets filled and fucked, fast and hard.
Finally, you give her that. Draw your cock out from between her cheeks, sliding the tip down between her legs, feeling the moisture that glistens on the swollen lips. You don't bother to strap up, or even ask, it's long since established that raw is how she likes it.
Slowly, you push forward. Mina sucks in a breath through her teeth. You know by the arch in the small of her back, the little trembles, that it is taking all her concentration and willpower not to throw her hips back, to force you to the hilt.
You bite the edge of her shoulder, and a shiver travels down Mina's entire body. You pull out, a little, before driving forward a little further.
"You feel..." you groan, your cock feeling like it was engulfed by satin. You sink a little further. "Fuck."
"Mhm, go on," her eyelashes flutter as you begin to take her, in this raw, animalistic way. "Tell me how it feels."
"Every time is like the first time," you continue, sliding in slow, then deeper, bit by bit, until you're all the way in and her big, round ass is pressing hard against your abdomen and her thick thighs against your legs. "You feel warm and slick and tight and wet, and oh, God..."
A sudden thrust forward as her greedy cunt squeezes the length of your shaft. A delicious whimper that sends blood to your head. A long, shaky groan slips from the both of your lips. You buck hard into her ass and watch as it ripples at the contact. "Ah! There, yes. Fuck," Mina moans.
There are two of her, perfect reflections, two Minas taking a rough pounding from behind. Each little expression on her face, each beautiful feature is visible in the reflection. And behind that her body ripples just like the one below you, and she whimpers, helpless as you penetrate her over and over.
"F-faster." She whines. "Harder. God, fuck, fuck me harder."
Mina has always liked it a little on the rough side, so you grab a handful of her hair, ball it in your fist, and pull. "Tell me, how does it feel?" You rear her head back so she has to look at herself in the reflection and tell it to herself. You pick up the pace, beginning to relentlessly pummel her from behind as you bury yourself into her tight heat as deep and hard as you can.
"So... Ah! So good." You yank her hair again, making her ass tense, making her gasp. She pants hard, short and fast as the force and strength of each thrust get stronger. "I love it when you... fuck me like this." Her chest begins to heave up and down. She raises her ass even higher for you. "When you—God, ah! Ah!—make me want to scream..."
You feel that incredible warmth building and swelling in your abdomen as her sex drips around your shaft, and it is so hard to slow yourself down when her ass slaps against you in perfect sync with your every motion, when Mina's knees shake, when her desperate moans urge you to never, ever stop. Still, you would like to do a little something before she orgasms all over your cock.
You roughly jerk out of Mina, pulling away abruptly with no warning.
"No, no! Don't stop!" She cries out immediately, her greedy body already missing yours. The flush at her neck spreading, blossoming down—her shoulders pink. "No!" She whimpers as she tries to throw her pussy back against you.
She cries out so pathetically that she doesn't protest when you roughly turn her around and lift her by her thighs, allowing her to wrap her legs around your hips and sink her to the hilt onto you. You sink her down and up and down again and again, bouncing her on and off of your aching cock in front of the mirror, gritting your teeth to keep yourself from finishing the moment her tightness wraps and flexes around you.
"I'm gonna cum so hard, I swear, I can feel it," she gasps in time with your rough pounding, arms holding onto your neck tightly, fingernails digging into your shoulders. "So close, don't you dare stop."
The harder and faster you go, the louder and harder she screams, eyes rolling back and mouth falling open. She digs her heels into your back, pushing down against you so there's nothing left for either of you but pleasure. You pound hard and heavy into her, chasing her orgasm, and when that perfect heat grips all around you and consumes you entirely, there is nothing in the entire world that compares to it—to this. The thought that very soon you will be cumming inside Myoui Mina.
It is that pure bliss, that power and sense of total control, of giving her such pleasure that you're left moaning along with her, revelling in this wonderful mess. Your bodies are sticky and tangled and you just start to let it go. Filling her pretty cunt as you have so many times before.
You grit your teeth and struggle through the overstimulation, taking satisfaction in how the trembling in her legs persists, her breathing ragged and body shaking. Doing your best to fuck your load into her—she's just so into that sort of thing—you don't think that there's anything, truly, that is better than this.
Not when Mina whimpers as she weakly presses her nails into the skin of your shoulders and when she knows not how to stop trembling. Your limits are worth pushing for a woman like her.
But even then, limits are ultimately undeniable. Her full weight in your arms, your knees weak, your legs tire beneath you and finally, as you plant a series of gentle kisses along her neck and shoulder, her mouth gasping, her nose against your cheek, you give in and fall to your knees. Mina's back leaves a mark of where it was once imprinted against the glass.
"So..." she laughs breathlessly into your ear as you sit with her on you. "Do you think management has any idea how often we fuck during these trips?"
"I imagine that if they found out it would be both of our jobs on the line." You hold a hand on her lower back, keeping her upright and then place your mouth on one of her breasts. Her nipple is firm, you suck on it and run your teeth over its delicate surface. Mina keens with her mouth falling open and her lashes fluttering, a small quiet "ah" escaping from the back of her throat.
"Guess we better stop," she jokes, breathing out in a chuckle and gently, pushing your forehead away from her chest.
You chuckle dryly into her neck, wrapping both arms fully around her naked body to pull her closer. "Something tells me you won't really be able to help yourself."
"Punishingly handsome, smart, a sense of humour—" She reaches down to where your half-soft cock is planted within her cunt. "—Great cock, excellent fuck" As though it were some sort of sales pitch. "No. No, I can't help myself."
"Is this about next week?" you ask.
"They never split us up, we're a team, so why would they send you with her instead?" Mina rocks her hips slowly on your lap. You groan into the crook of her neck.
"It's a one-off, Mina. In two weeks we'll be travelling together again." You wrap your arms around her soft, warm skin and run them down her back. "Another hotel, another set of adjoining rooms."
"Yeah," she sighs as she lazily continues her grinding. "Or, we could... See each other outside of work, you know. Like normal people do."
"We're far from normal, Mina." You let out a soft sigh as you start to harden inside her again. You pull at the small of her back, urging her on. "We're having our fun, right? It works. What reason is there to rock the boat?"
Her arms move up your chest and onto your shoulders. With that same teasing voice of hers, "There's always room for more fun. More sex." Mina pushes hard on your shoulders, and you fall back into the soft carpet. Mina is above you—over you—all-powerful beauty and you want nothing more than to grab her hips and drive up, and into her. Her hair falls over her shoulders and down her arms. Her pert little tits beg to be held. Her face, with flawless skin and those few prominent freckles, is decorated with a filthy smile.
"Two weeks, Mina, two weeks and we'll be back to doing this." You caress the silky soft curves of her sides. "Two more weeks, and then it's a real long trip. Just me and you."
She's visibly more excited, and she rides you harder now than just a gentle grinding and you hear the little wet sounds of your cock plunging into her cum-filled pussy over and over again. Her breasts bounce beautifully, and finally, you do cup one in a hand. A playful glimmer dances in her eyes, along with the lust haze. Mina's wet thighs slap against your hips, the sounds are vulgar in the best way.
"I'm going to fuck you every single morning and night for the whole trip," you tell her, and her grin widens. "Then you won't want for a thing."
Your words only seem to encourage her more, to fuck you harder and harder. She's riding your cock wildly but never has her eyes left yours. She fucks like she does everything else; with every fibre of her being, her passion is unbridled and intense. And oh, when she whimpers, it makes a hot current run straight to the end of your spine, it gets the heat in your head pulsating. That's just what Mina does to you.
"Two weeks without me. You're going to be so frustrated, Mina, so needy. You're gonna make me a promise."
"Mhm?" she gasps.
"You're going to wait for me," you say. "After tonight, for whole two weeks, no cumming."
"No," she says through clenched teeth. "Absolutely not."
"Yes, Mina, absolutely."
You clasp your hands on her hips, slowing down her speed. "Promise me."
She almost struggles to find her voice. "No way. I can't!" Her hips fight against your hold, she fights to drag her cunt over your cock and just feel the pleasure you're denying her. Mina grits her teeth, and the pain is evident on her face. "Okay! Just please fuck me now." She twists her body, trying to release from your hold.
"Promise."
"I promise. I promise. I promise!" Mina squeals, nearly shrieking as you soften your grip and thrust up into her quivering, wet heat. You let her fuck you again and she picks up right where she left off—frantic and wild. She leans in to kiss you deeply, and a little whimper spills from the corner of her lips. "Fuck. Cum inside me again."
The eagerness with which Mina rises and falls on your cock, her pussy taking in all of you, demands only one thing. Cum—the mess of you both—spilling over and running out, all over you and the floor and ruining the hotel's carpet.
"Yes," her voice cracks, high and soft, "Oh fuck. Fuck. God, I'm gonna cum."
It's good, your hands gripping her body firmly, matching her pace, and taking the chance to look behind her, at the mirror, where you can see your cock bury in and out of her again and again. Slipping up below her ass that ripples beautifully every time your hips meet.
Mina cums not even ten seconds later. With an eruption of screams louder than you've ever heard, shudders all over, and more fluid spilling between you both. She's struggling and you feel it. You slap her ass and follow with a groan of words halfway between an instruction and a plea. "Don't stop."
She doesn't stop. She sits up and throws herself back, reaching for something to balance on. A hand against the mirror, her legs spread and her body present to you, she fucks that pretty pussy down onto you so fast, she's struggling to maintain the rhythm but her nails are curling against the glass, her brows are pressed so tense together, her body shakes all over and a cry comes again from that lovely mouth.
She cums again like this as if it's a show for you and what a fucking show it is. Her legs tremble so hard they lose purchase and you begin lifting yourself up into her and the sight, the sound—her sounds—and her perfect body is making you buck and press harder into her. You've become so mindless, so desperate and hungry for her body. You can hardly keep yourself from spilling into her for a second time. But not yet, you think. Not yet and not there.
Mina's leg buckles. She fights for air. "Can't," she chokes out, breathless and shallow. Nothing left to give you. She slips from her perch, collapsing to the floor, leaning against the mirror. Her dark hair matted with sweat, her pale skin gleaming. Her expression is dreamy. "On me. Just finish on me."
On Mina, a work of art. Over her pretty face, or those luscious tits, or that soft tummy. Over that thick, firm and oh-so-perfect ass, or those equally tasty thighs. Maybe even just glaze over her messy cunt. Her eyes flicker as she looks up at you, and you have a decision to make.
"Anywhere. Cum wherever you want."
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yanderefarm · 1 month ago
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yandere crime lord x sadistic male reader
cw;; torture, burn wounds, blood, gore, stockholm syndrome, yandere, drugs, kidnapping, murder, smoking, cruel reader
here he is.... my most fucked up bby girl. i wrote this a little differently than the others... i had a different vibe in mind.
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achilles is the eldest son of a notorious mob family, the second most powerful in charge right under his father. he makes lots of big decisions, like his recent attempts to take over a smaller gang with cruelty and force. unfortunately being a sexy big shot comes with its own little vices, achilles likes smoking for instance. nasty habit especially for someone in his position, doesn't he realize how vulnerable he is when he's taking a smoke break? so easy for you to drug.
you flick some of the cigarette ash towards the man in question. he's on his knees arms tied behind his back and duct tape over his mouth. he keeps shooting you dirty looks. it's funny.
"such a waste..."
you run a red room service on the dark web. essentially, anyone with enough money can hire you to kidnap and torture whoever they want. some people hire you to make elaborate snuff videos with their desires all written out for you, other people let you and your audience decide what kind of torture would take place over your live streams. that's where the handsome man in front of you came from, the gang he'd been destroying had bought your services.
you had already explained that to him, as well as mocked him for his cigarette habit. now you were letting one of the cigarettes burn before your stream actually started, you didn't actually smoke it choosing instead to let him watch you waste it. his scowl was hot.
his screams were hotter. the first hour in, you had him covered in cigarette burns and his stomach flinching away from your touch. the second hour in, he had multiple gashes all over his trembling body. the third hour in, he had finally started to sob and his body was covered in lovely bruises.
"sorry guys, we can't kill him yet. but that means we get a toy for a little while!" you gripped his hair and brought his tear stained face up to the camera. "say goodbye to our friend!"
and that ended your first stream with your new toy. you cleaned him up and brought him to his new room.
"you'll probably be the show tomorrow unless I get another job. eat up." you gave him a nice dinner and pulled the duct tape off his mouth.
"... when will I die?"
"dunno. good work chilles, sleep well. I'll most likely kill you in the morning."
that's how it began. the guy ended up being your show about half the week for the next two months. never enough to kill him and every day you cleaned up his wounds and took good care of him. he never cursed you or complained about his place he would ask you questions and thank you for the food. it was pleasant conversation, he was a nice companion in your otherwise drab life.
it was halfway into the third month when you got news that those gang members who hired you were dead. you'd been waiting the whole time for them to pay for you to kill achilles and now it was never coming. at least you made good money from your streams in the meantime.
"you're free to go." you stood in the doorway of achilles's room.
his eyes looked at you, slowly widening as he realized what you said. "wh.. why?"
"m gonna drug you up and drop you in front of your house. you won't know where you were but I'd really appreciate if you didn't try to come after me at all. "
"why are you letting me go? did something happen?"
"you should quit smoking by the way. maybe i won't be able to get you-"
you saw something in his eyes snap. those eyes that had been practically blank the whole time even when the torture made him lose his voice from screaming. now they were dark and hazy, significantly more threatening than he'd been before. he crawled on his hands and knees to your leg and looked up at you with tears in his eyes.
"why....? am i not.. did i do it wrong? i can be a good toy."
you were caught off guard by his reaction. "uh... well uh the guys who hired me like... they died without paying me to kill you. so like... i don't have a reason to keep you?"
"how much?"
"huh??"
"how much do you need to keep me?"
you reached down and gently carded your hand through his hair. "you don't want to stay here, dumbass."
"yes I do." he nuzzled his head into your hand.
"you really want to stay here and get tortured until you die? use your brain."
his darkened eyes looked up at you with the most pathetic look. "i want to stay with you."
"fuck" he's cute? he's cute. "ok...jesus, lets do this. you go home, get reunited with your family, try to get back to normal life. and I'll contact you so if you still want to be LITERALLY tortured over living your normal life I'll bring you back. ok?"
"you'll actually come get me, right?"
"yeah. I'll get you and I won't even make you pay."
"I'll be back soon." he rubbed his head against your leg. "please get your favorite tools ready."
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pseudowho · 1 year ago
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Debellatio
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You ask Nanami Kento to help you and Higuruma Hiromi on a mission, after the events of In Flagrante Delicto (link here); you find yourself at the mercy of both men after they are struck by the aphrodisiac Curse.
An introduction to Greynami from my Post-Shibuya!AU Nanami; see Grey and Post-Shibuya AU!Nanami Headcanons
Warnings: 18+, another sex pollen fic because I'm utterly depraved and godless, threesome, I don't like to ruin surprises
(help me find the Higuruma artist in the banner, for crediting and thanks/permission!)
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"Kento. We're friends...right?"
Nanami Kento's one good eye narrowed at you, you, sat so surreptitiously on the arm of the sofa in the coffee shop you had asked to meet him at. Kento briefly considered lowering his newspaper, but decided he'd wait to see what you wanted, first. No longer working for Jujutsu High after the Shibuya incident, he did, however, stay in contact with you, one of his favourite colleagues.
"Friends?" he teased, "I don't have friends." You pouted, slapping his arm lightly, and he  continued, "Alright...what is it you want?"
You scooted next to him on the sofa, emboldened by his invitation; "It's Hiromi," you said, already desperate, almost begging.
Already on first name terms, Kento thought, a light jealousy twisting in his gut, having thought he and you always had potential together. "Higuruma?" he pressed, scarred face neutral. You nodded.
"I released him to the wild," you stated, filling Kento in, "I don't think he was ready, but he was insistent, he's been out on his own for a while now...anyway, he seems to have been alright. Alone."
You did not tell Kento how Hiromi Higuruma had spent every night over the past week in your bed, spurred on initially by an aphrodisiac Curse he had failed to exorcise. You had not told anyone at Jujutsu High, in fact. How would you tell them that you and Hiromi were...what? Colleagues with benefits? On an uncertain path towards boyfriend and girlfriend? Pleasuring each other blind every day and night, lost in each others' minds and bodies? You almost blushed, aware your underwear was damp with the seed he had left inside you just that morning.
Kento raised one thin eyebrow at your pause, imploring you to continue. You took a deep breath.
"There's a mission tomorrow, and they want to send more than one First Grade, they think it's big, apparently. They chose Hiromi, and me. But I've worked with him, and he's...he's..." you trailed off, searching for the words. Kento helped.
"Difficult? Doesn't play well with others?" he offered lightly. You nodded, hands clasped in your lap.
"Can you come with us? Just as a buffer. We won't even need you I don't think, just..." you tailed off again, hoping Kento agreed.
That familiar jealousy burned in Kento's gut again. 'We'. 'Won't even need you'. Kento kicked himself mentally, wondering if he'd left it too late to ask you out to dinner, to make his move, wondering if Higuruma of all people had showed up and pipped him to the post. His jaw clenched as he put down his newspaper, giving you a gentle reassuring smile. Of course he agreed.
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"Why is he here?" Hiromi pressed you, rolling his gavel between his hands in irritation. Nanami Kento stood a few feet away from you and Hiromi, catching up with Ijichi while the veil was prepared around a derelict shopping centre, held together by ivy and abandoned "SALE!" banners.
"Just for back-up, Hiromi. Anyway, I haven't seen him in ages. You'll be friends in no time, I'm sure of it," you cooed.
Hiromi bristled. He had heard you speak fondly of this...this...sexy pirate, Nanami Kento, and in these early, brittle stages of your relationship together, Hiromi couldn't help but feel threatened by this imposing figure of a man. Allowing himself a moment of fragile masculinity, he shook it off, reminding himself that you weren't a competition.
But that if you were, you'd chosen Hiromi and he had won anyway.
Kento smiled fondly at Ijichi, gripping his hand in a friendly squeeze, before heading over to you and Hiromi, the veil descending below him in an oily drip down an invisible dome. Kento's face remained neutral as he approached, he and Hiromi reading each other, both shrewd, calculating. You swallowed at the palpable tension, before trying to bridge the gap with a reassuring smile to them both. Kento spoke first.
"The electricity's back on, so we're not operating in the dark. We should introduce ourselves. Nanami Kento," he said shortly, offering a brief bow, his gaze piercing into Hiromi even through an eye patch, it seemed.
"Higuruma Hiromi," he offered, "I've been told you're just here as..."
"...insurance," Kento finished coolly, "as you're rather...new to this." Hiromi felt another pang of irritation, smiling tightly at Kento.
Kento turned to you, giving you a smile so warm and sincere that it cracked through his icy demeanour. When you smiled back, Hiromi gritted his teeth, reminding himself again to behave. Eyes now on you, he threaded his fingers through yours, tapping your joined hands against his thigh in an act of affection and possession.
"Come on then, my love. We'll lead the way, shall we?" Hiromi pulled you ahead of Kento as a pair, and Kento glowered silently at your backs as he followed you into the building.
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"Have you read The Day of the Triffids?" you mused aloud to Hiromi and Kento, running your hand along the network of enormous vines, some as thick as your thigh, clinging along the inner walls of the building. A hazy mist had settled within the confines of the corridors, dewy and tropical in the summer humidity of central Tokyo. Exotic and otherworldly flora popped in bursts of colour from the ceiling and floor as the corridor curved away from you.
Hiromi and Kento both confirmed immediately, competitive, flashing each other furious glances. You were oblivious, examining the tendrils and flowers in glittery-eyed fascination. Hiromi and Kento stewed, both hovering close to you, irritated by the invasion of each others' space.
"We should go deeper into the building," Hiromi stated, confident, tapping his gavel against his adjacent palm, "the main Curse body is probably hiding centrally." Kento cleared his throat, imitating politeness as he disagreed.
"Many of these Curses linger on the edges, like spiders in webs. It would be more thorough to scout inwards from the edges, first."
"Well that sounds pretty inefficient seeing as we know--"
"--well we don't know, you're just assuming--"
"--based on experience, I think--"
"--oh yes, and what experience would that be?" Kento finished, curt, brittle. He turned to you, shoulders clenched in a taut line under the clipped corners of his suit. Hiromi spun to catch your eye, anger burning low at Kento's interference. Both beseeched you, seethingly, to agree with them.
You blushed under their stares, feeling their Cursed energy rising, competing, and gulped, feeling naked and exposed.
"I think," you started slowly, "that both options are as viable as the other," both Kento and Hiromi huffed air out of their noses, lips curled in annoyance, "and so you two should decide between you."
"Either way," you continued, the air thick with tension, "we have to go this way to get to the rest of the building anyway. It will give you two time to make a decision, and maybe learn to get along?" Both men bristled at your gentle chastisement, facing each other, chins out, teeth gritted.
You continued behind Hiromi and Kento along the corridor, watching with mute horror, as conversation escalated into debate, descended into argument, spiralled into insults--
"Well you're apparently so smart," spat Kento at Hiromi, "that I probably should let you decide, even if you find out the hard way, but you're not dragging her into danger too, so--"
"--sorry we can't all muscle our way through our problems, Nanami, she probably should stay with the brains of the group, so--"
"--she's coming with me!" Their voices rang through the corridor in tandem, and you shouted in warning, as they both tripped, distracted, their legs tangling in a flower-covered vine, like trip wire across the floor.
A puff of yellow pollen shot up from the flowers, clouding Kento and Hiromi in a clinging haze. They coughed, sneezing, staggering backwards out of the cloud. Kento cleared his eye with a swift wipe, looking down at himself, surveying the damage.
But, Hiromi spun to face you, barely disguised panic in his eyes; "Shit. Shit. Not again--"
Your jaw dropped, appalled; "Again? Hiromi? Was this-- is this--"
Hiromi groaned, and leaned heavily, shivering against the wall as the pollen seeped through his pores, the yellow fading as it sunk into Hiromi's bloodstream. Kento's back was to you, but dread crept into your belly, low and hot, as you saw his shoulders roll and shudder, his scarred hand clasped over his mouth as his chin dipped towards the floor.
As both Hiromi and Kento turned slowly to look at you, hunger glowing in their eyes, you began to take tentative steps backwards, your speed gradually increasing as you spun, quickly building into a full sprint back down the corridor.
Kento was burning from the inside out; every nerve was on fire with desperate arousal, his cock rapidly hardening in the confines of his slim suit trousers, and he knew in furious desperation that if he didn't pin you down and ram every inch of himself into you, that he would surely perish in these sordid flames, and--
As Kento's legs bent with intent to hunt you down the corridor, he felt slim fingers grip around the front of his throat, Hiromi stepping into his vision, clearly suffering just as he was, but determined and steely, hooded eyes smouldering with threat.
"Not my girl, Nanami," Hiromi spat, squeezing the sides of Kento's thick throat with surprising force. Kento chuckled, full of dark mirth as he gripped Hiromi by the wrist, twisting it away from him; Hiromi held fast, hand shaking with exertion.
"You were the back-up, Higuruma," Kento rumbled, smirking, judgement clouded by wild, throbbing need, "so back off. Daddy's home now." Kento swept Hiromi's legs from under him, elbowing him to the ground, before leaping over his scrabbling form and stalking down the corridor, with surprising grace for such a big man.
Hiromi was on Kento in seconds, spinning him into a resounding thud against the wall, and Kento roared in frustration, as the two continued to scrap along the corridor, concrete cracking under their feet and shoulders as they bodied each other into the walls, trying to gain the upper hand.
You had reached the end of the corridor, the stairs blocked with a bawdry tangle of prickles and vines. You scanned the corridor, spotting a lift to the right, and you ripped fine vines away from its entrance, pressing the lift's button in a frantic panic, hearing the roars and crashes of Kento and Hiromi moving down the corridor towards you.
You had a moment of dread, fearful that the lift was now inoperable, before a tinny little ping announced the lift's arrival. Clambering over vines and into the lift, you saw a puff and crumble of rubble down the corridor as Kento was thrown into a wall, the ceiling partly collapsing above him.
You pressed the button again, again, again, your heart thick in your throat. You saw Hiromi round the corridor, zigzagging across jigsaws of vines, eyes intently on you.
As the doors grinded closed, Kento and Hiromi descended upon them, still scrapping, bloody, fighting with mindless desperation and rage. The lift stayed still, halted by your own paralysis as you caught their eyes through the glass, both begging you to let them in.
You swallowed, your belly hot with anticipation, wanting to help but utterly incapable of accepting the only means by which you could help. You mouthed wordlessly at Hiromi and Kento. You pressed a shaking finger to the lift's 'down' button, and Hiromi swiftly countered by pressing the button outside the lift doors. The lift pinged, juddered, stopped, started, indecisive, torn.
You were at a stalemate. You ran your hands through your hair.
"I can't...I can't help both of you," you cried, turning to look at Nanami, eyes brimming with apology as he rested his forehead against his fist, breathing out in a shaking moan.
"Kento, I...Hiromi and I, we..." Kento thumped his fist against the outside of the lift, the lift trembling at his strength.
"You choose him?" Kento spat, feeling precum leak down his thigh in a constant damp stream. He coughed, arousal burning through his throat, and reached down to squeeze his cock, desperate for relief, moaning softly as he bit into his fist.
"You'll-- you'll help me, though?" Hiromi urged, hopeful and throbbing, palms and forehead pressed flat to the glass of the lift, eyelids heavy and breaths hot and urgent. You swallowed, considering your promise to always help Hiromi, and nodded slowly, swallowing, memories of how desperately he took you the first time sweeping through you, your clit aching and pussy clenching around nothing.
"Open the door. Please, please, open the door," Hiromi whispered in prayer. Kento accepted, sickly, that you had made your decision, still certain he may die without relief. The pollen pulsed through him, toxic and ruinous, and he felt his vision fade into animalistic shades of black, white and red.
"I can-- I-- just let me watch," Kento forced out, begging through clenched teeth. You hesitated, eyes flicking towards Hiromi in question. Hiromi scowled, lips curled in distaste.
"Watch, don't watch-- I don't give a fuck. But I'll have your head if you lay a finger on her."
Kento snarled, lips pulled taut against his teeth-- but nodded his agreement. Your hand lowered, hesitantly retracting from the button as Hiromi calmly pushed the 'open' button from the outside, eyes burning into you with unholy intent.
As the door opened, Hiromi stepped to you, trembling with restraint, fists clenching and unclenching as he urged you backwards, caging you in against the wall with outstretched arms. Not breaking eye contact, he reached down to grab one of your hands, pressing it hard against his straining erection with a low groan, eyes closed against the enormity of the tiny relief and the promise of more to come.
Keeping your hand pressed against him, rutting into your open palm, Hiromi dipped his mouth to your neck, taking your skin between his lips in a deep, bruising lovebite.
"You know how this works," he intoned, low and slow, licking your neck as he rubbed your hand on the outline of his rigid cock, "and I know you can take it." You hesitated as Kento moved slowly into the lift space, the doors closing behind him. His eye shot daggers through you, the burned side of his face twisted in agony, until his gaze flicked downwards, staring hungrily at where Hiromi rutted his cock into your open hand. Kento's tongue darted out to lick his lips, his hand sinking slowly to undo his own belt.
As Hiromi continued to devour your neck, moaning with abandon as he pressed closer to you, humping his weeping clothed cock against your body, you felt your own inhibition fade curiously away. Your trepidation was slowly being overtaken, being seeded and overgrown by a burning hunger. You took a gasping breath, high off your own desire, head swimming--
"Hiromi-- the pollen, it's-- it's on your clothes," you urged, your brain clouding, thrumming, succumbing as yellow mist soaked into your skin.
Kento watched with erotic fascination as you became pliable, supple as water under Hiromi's mouth, your eyes half-closed with aching arousal, a desperate keening noise rising from your throat.
"Oh god yes," groaned Kento, voice gravelly with lust as he released his throbbing erection, pumping his thick cock in his fist, biting the backs of his knuckles on his free hand, "keep going, don't stop-- don't--"
Hiromi drank up Kento's begging, seethingly determined to prove his ownership of you, and grasped your top between his hands, ripping it open like paper, snapping the front of your bra so the cups hung loosely over your pebbled nipples. Hiromi heard Kento release a shuddering whine behind him as he latched his tongue and lips over your nipple, still rutting into your hand, which was joined by the other now as you worked frantically at Hiromi's trousers to release him.
Kento and Hiromi both gasped as Hiromi's cock sprang upwards, and was instantly grasped between your fingers, your first squeeze releasing a thick dribble of precum down Hiromi's length as he shuddered, moaning into your breasts, pressing his fist into the wall as you began to masturbate him. You ached to your very core, reeling with need.
"Please fuck me," you begged Hiromi, voice whispering and pleading in his ear, "cum inside me, as much as you want, I need it, I--"  Hiromi didn't need to be told twice and lifted your legs to straddle his hips, holding you up against the wall as he flipped your skirt up, ripped your tights and sticky wet underwear at the groin, and allowed you to line up his cock between your puffy, glistening folds.
Kento's hand worked harder and harder on his own cock now, stopping to circle his thumb around the sensitive head, spreading his precum, fighting the urge to throw Hiromi aside and thrust into you himself. Biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, he instead focused on where Hiromi's cock lined up with you.
"What the hell are you waiting for?" Kento growled as Hiromi paused, panting into your neck, "get inside her or I will."
With one aggressive thrust, Hiromi's cock rammed into you to the hilt, slamming you back against the wall as you cried out, clawing at him desperately. Your hands clenched the front of his shirt, gripping and ripping, buttons scattering over the floor with faint skitters, so desperate were you to feel Hiromi's skin on yours.
Hiromi fucked you ruthlessly, eyes fixed on where his cock crashed into you, hips snapping back and forth with barely controlled fury. Spurred on by your mewls and whimpers, Hiromi panted, chasing his relief, agonised cries breaking from his mouth with every other thrust.
Kento's eye had drooped closed behind Hiromi, stroking himself now to the sounds of you and Hiromi alone, feeling with agonising certainty that cumming in his own hand would do little to relieve his deadly need, but needing to chase his orgasm regardless. He felt his pleasure building rapidly as he heard you cum, falling apart with trembling cries around Hiromi's cock.
Hiromi didn't last long, his first orgasm hitting him with a wave of relief so violent, his knees almost buckled, relying on you for a moment to hold yourself up against him. Hiromi felt blinded as rope after rope of his seed spurted into you, coating your cervix, soothing your aching belly with warmth. Kento came with a shuddering gasp, streams of thick cum splattering onto the floor and coating his hand, face contorted in pain when he felt little to no relief despite his orgasm plundering through his every muscle.
You and Hiromi clung onto each other, still joined, and Hiromi's cock felt no softer at all, still rigid and held with urgency against your cervix, sucked in by your velvety walls.
"I'm-- I'm sorry I-- I can't stand--" Hiromi stuttered, dropping to his knees with your legs still wrapped around him, still pressed core to core as you wrapped your arms around his neck, straddling him, riding him as he whimpered into your mouth. Lost in your own pleasure, your eyes had drifted shut as you rode Hiromi, slippery with cum, keeping his cock jealously inside you, unwilling to let him pull out by more than an inch.
You felt a strong hand wind into your hair, tipping your head backwards and sideways, and as you gasped, you felt a droplet of salty cum drip onto your tongue. Kento's other hand, sticky with his own seed, ghosted around your lips as he stared down at you, scarred face impassive, but his eye urgently begging, and he dipped a cum-covered thumb into your mouth, stroking across your tongue.
Hiromi flung a hand out sideways, clawing with fury at Kento's thick, corded thigh; "Nanami," he hissed in warning. Kento ignored him, still staring at you, pleading, impeaching--
You nodded slowly, opening your mouth, holding out your tongue. Kento groaned his appreciation, and leant down to dip his tongue against yours as you gripped his thick cock in your hand. Hiromi scowled, thrusting you harder onto him in possessive punishment, satisfied to hear you squeak against Kento's tongue. As Kento pulled away from you and your mouth started to close, he gripped your jaw, stopping you.
"Open," he barked and you acquiesced, jolting and groaning as you felt him spit into your mouth, mixing with the drips of cum his fingers left behind. Humming lowly in satisfaction, Kento stood tall, manoeuvring your head and thrusting his full length down your throat with little warning.
Despite himself, Hiromi was hypnotised as Kento gripped you by the hair, ramming into you; Hiromi kept pace with Kento, matching his timing by slamming your hips down onto his. His eyes fixed on your mouth as you coughed and spluttered, cheeks covered with cum and saliva as you choked down wet gags, Kento barking orders at you as he slammed his cock repeatedly over your tongue and into your throat.
"Harder, Nanami," Hiromi ordered, blinded by lust as he felt your cunt clench around him, fluttering weakly as Hiromi slipped his hand between your legs, finding your clit with practiced ease, rubbing rapid circles, lubricated by the slick of your cum.
You were overwhelmed, floppy and malleable as you embraced being used by Kento and Hiromi, covered in fluids, sticky and sweating, and you shivered weakly as Hiromi dragged you to another orgasm. You felt Hiromi ram you onto him once, twice and three more times until he came with a frantic shout, legs cramping underneath him as he felt his seed shoot through him like electricity, dripping out of you and soaking the patch of trimmed black hair at the base of his cock. Hiromi whined, his balls clenching painfully, watching as Kento finished in your mouth.
Kento pulled you to him, his knuckles deep in your hair as your nose hit his neat honey-coloured pubes, gulping as streams of his hot cum trickled down your throat, Kento growling his relief-- "good girl-- good girl-- swallow now"-- as you drank him down.
Kento let go of your hair and you pulled back, gasping and coughing, his cock still rigid, sat wetly on your cheek as Kento rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck from side to side, still tense. Hiromi was wrecked, burning with need, but crippled and paralysed with a bone-deep exhaustion as he straightened his legs under you, his cock still rigid and throbbing inside you as he came down from his orgasm.
"Not-- not enough--" Kento rumbled, still desperate, devastated by the lack of relief.
"Enough, Nanami," Hiromi gasped, "She needs a--"
"'She' can handle it," you interrupted, nose to nose with Hiromi as he looked into you, glassy-eyed and worried. He nodded slowly. Kento rumbled his approval, pressing you forwards by the back of the neck until Hiromi was laid on his back on the floor, cock still inside you, and you laid down belly first on him.
Without hesitating, Kento mounted you from behind, his mouth ghosting against your ear as he bit it, relishing your squeaks as you pressed your cheek into Hiromi's chest. Lining up his cock with where Hiromi was already seated deep inside you, Kento pressed his cock into you.
You saw stars as your pussy was stretched more than it ever had been, clawing wildly at Hiromi's chest as Kento bottomed-out; Hiromi shivered with delight at the impossible tightness and slickness of you, his groans cracking as Kento's cock slid against his with every thrust. Higuruma lay unmoving at first, colours popping in his eyes, before digging his fingers into the plushness of your hips, and thrusting into you in tandem with Kento.
You were ruined, completely prone on Hiromi as you felt Hiromi and Kento's lengths bully in and out of you, your thighs shaking with urgency as your clit was shunted against Hiromi's pubic bone every time Kento rammed into you. Hearing Kento's groans, broken and velvety behind you, had you tipping over the edge, your arousal spurting out around Kento and Hiromi, your cries and whimpers echoing weakly around the little chamber.
Kento felt fire burst through his hips, back and belly as he came for a final time, barely able to keep himself from collapsing on top of you as he felt himself weaken, Hiromi's cock twitching against his as Hiromi shuddered, sandy gasps leaving his throat as his seed mixed with Kento's inside you.
Hiromi reached around you, rolling you all sideways so Kento could collapse onto the floor. You lay together, stunned, sticky and panting. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and desire. Kento chuckled, low and shaking, as you nuzzled into Hiromi, planting tender kisses on his jaw.
"Alright," he rumbled, reluctant, "so she's your girl. But I still owe her dinner."
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Hiromi and Kento at the end of this:
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The reader:
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This took me two large glasses of wine to write.
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