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rafesbabygirlx · 2 months ago

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Time Loop

Masterlist

Rafe x Reader

Summary: Rafe finds himself caught in a time loop, reliving the same disastrous 2 days when everything goes wrong. He must figure out how to break the cycle by changing his choices, leading to new insights into his relationship, motives, and a self-realization.

A/N: might be a little delusional from school but I rewatched Happy Death Day on Halloween and had this idea written down. Read this over 100x and I’m pretty sure I follow through. Enjoy :)

Word count: 3k

Warnings: angst, smut at the end

Rafe’s relationship with you was a storm of highs and lows. When other couples argued over trivial things—what to eat, misplaced items, or being late—your conflicts with Rafe were on a different level. They revolved around coke, cheating, and his relentless need to please his father.

Rafe’s habit of disappearing for “errands” tied to his dad’s business, his unapologetic flirting at parties, and the lines of cocaine that constantly blurred his reality had worn you down. Three years together, and it had only gotten worse. His betrayals were countless, yet somehow, you both stayed. Amid the chaos, there was a twisted comfort that kept you to each other.

Loop 1. It was a Saturday, and Rafe was at Kelce’s party. He hadn’t responded to your texts or calls all day. Sitting in his usual spot, hunched over the coffee table with white powder all over it, he looked oblivious to everything except the high. You arrived reluctantly, dragged by your friends who insisted you shouldn’t stay home alone, overthinking. You told yourself you’d stay hidden, avoid Rafe, and just get through the night.

You led your friends to the kitchen and grabbed drinks, steering them out to the pool where Rafe rarely went. Hours passed, with each of you taking turns fetching refills. When your turn came, the kitchen was crowded, so you slipped into the living room instead. And that’s when it happened. Your eyes locked with Rafe’s across the room. A blonde was straddling his lap, pressing kisses down his neck while he smirked at you, a cold and taunting expression. Something in you snapped. Without thinking, you threw the remains of your drink at them and stormed out before he could react.

The next morning, Rafe woke up in one of Kelce’s guest rooms, head pounding and eyes squinting against the sunlight. He reached for his phone, seeing a flurry of messages from you.

You 1:46 AM – FUCK YOU, RAFE CAMERON. You never deserved me.

You 1:55 AM – I hope you snort yourself to death, you asshole. Enjoy your coke while you can.

You 2:04 AM – YOU WILL NEVER SEE ME AGAIN. I HATE YOU.

You 2:06 AM – WE’RE THROUGH. ROT IN HELL.

He groaned, a mix of regret and anger simmering beneath his hangover. He needed to talk to you. You always went to brunch at the club on Sundays, so he threw on some borrowed clothes and headed there.

There you were, sitting on the patio with your friends, your hair catching in the breeze, looking radiant and untouchable. It hit him how much he had messed up. He approached cautiously. “Hey, can we talk? Please?”

You didn’t acknowledge him, eyes focused ahead. “Please, Y/N. I need to talk to you.” You turned to him sharply. “We have NOTHING to talk about. You’re not my problem anymore, Rafe.” His jaw clenched, ego a bit strained, anger bubbling up. He rolled his eyes. “You think I wanted to be tied down with you? Always breathing down my neck? That’s probably why I cheated. I needed a break from you.” He didn’t mean it.

The lie hung between you like a knife. Your voice was icy. “You’re such a piece of shit,” you said, louder than you intended. “What was that, angel? Say it again,” he goaded. You stood up, refusing to back down despite his height. “You’re a piece of shit, Rafe Cameron. A slut, a drug addict, and a failure who will never be good enough for your father.”

The entire patio fell silent. The slap came without warning, sharp and loud, leaving him stunned. You threw down cash for the bill and walked out, your friends hurrying after you. Humiliated and seething, Rafe’s pride took over. As he left, he spotted your car. Without a second thought, he grabbed a rock and smashed the windshield, then slashed three of the tires. Adrenaline pumping, he sped off to Barry’s place and spent the rest of the day numbing himself with beer and more lines of coke. By nightfall, he was a mess, barely coherent, when he picked up his phone and typed:

Rafe 7:32 PM – baby pls I mis u dont do thiss to mee, ur al I want

Rafe 7:38 PM – bby

Rafe 7:39 PM – bbay

Rafe 7:40 PM – pls I ned you answr me

Finally, your response came, slicing through his fog.

You 7:50 PM – You should’ve thought of that before you were a complete shit boyfriend. Before you chose drugs over me, your dad over me, other girls over me.

You 7:53 PM – AND BEFORE YOU DESTROYED MY CAR, ASSHOLE.

Rafe’s rage erupted, and he hurled his phone, shattering it on the floor. “SHIT!” Barry jolted awake. “Damn, country club. What’s your problem?” He throws his crushed phone back at him. “Nothing,” Rafe muttered, tossing cash down before leaving. He considered going to your house but decided to sleep it off and try again tomorrow.

Loop 2. The next day, he woke up at noon, head heavy, stomach in knots. His phone, perfectly intact, rested on the nightstand. The date read Saturday. Confused, he checked his messages—none of what he remembered existed. Before he could think too hard, Ward barged in, ordering him to get dressed and join him on errands.

The day felt like a warped replay. He ignored your incoming texts, but told Kelce he’d be at the party, and numbly followed the script. That night, as he sat at Kelce’s, a girl climbed onto his lap, and he froze. Between the drugs, and the shock of realizing what’s happening he just sits there. She straddles his lap, grinding down onto him and kisses his neck. He looks up and sees you and gets instant deja vu. You appeared at the door, eyes wide with betrayal. Just like before, you stormed out after throwing your drink. He threw the girl off of him and tried to reach you but you slipped through the crowd before he could. He couldn’t believe what was happening. This is exactly what happened in his dream. At least he thinks it was a dream.

With the drugs and what just happened he feels like he’s loosing his mind. He heads upstairs and passes out on the guest bed. Not surprising when he wakes up to see you sent the same text messages again. He doesn’t know what to do. But he repeats the same process. Finding you at the club, trying to talk to you, you embarrassing and leaving him standing there. He walks out to the parking to see your car but he doesn’t touch it this time. Panic crept into his mind, a distressing realization that something was wrong. At Barry’s later, he tested his theory. “Hey, did I come here already?” he asked. Barry squinted. “Yesterday to pick up some for the party, you good man?” Rafe’s stomach dropped. The night had repeated itself. He left, pacing in his room later, mind racing. Glancing at his phone, he stomped it underfoot, shattering it again.

Loop 3. Rafe woke up with a migraine, instinctively grabbing his phone. The screen glowed brightly, not a single scratch, displaying the day: Saturday. His heart sank as a familiar wave of confusion washed over him. Everything was playing out exactly as it had before. The knock on the door was immediate, and soon enough, his father burst in, barking orders. His phone buzzed throughout the day incessantly with your texts, followed by Kelce’s message about the party and a request to score some coke. Rafe felt a nauseating sense of deja vu again, an unsettling lightheadedness clinging to him throughout the day.

At Barry’s place, Rafe pocketed a bag of coke, glancing nervously at the dealer, who was lounging with a cigarette. Barry was the only person who might not think he was entirely out of his mind. “I gotta ask you something,” Rafe blurted out. Barry raised an eyebrow, blowing out a cloud of smoke. “If it’s a favor, I’m not doing it.” Rafe sat down across from him, trying to still the tremor in his hands. “No, it’s not a favor. Do you ever feel like you’re stuck in a loop? Like, the same thing playing over and over again?”

Barry’s eyes narrowed. “What the hell are you talking about, Country Club?” Rafe rubbed his face, feeling his pulse race. “I’m serious. It’s like I’ve lived the same two days over and over for nearly a week now. I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s real. I can’t shake it.” Barry snorted, a half-laugh slipping through. “Man, lay off the coke for a while. It’s messing with your head.”

At Kelce’s party, Rafe felt the buzz of anticipation crackling around him. He sat in his usual spot, beer in hand, taking only a small line of coke, half-dreading and half-expecting what came next. Just as he suspected, the blonde girl approached, eyes glinting with interest. His heart raced; it was happening again. He let her sit beside him, testing the reality of the loop. Just then, he spotted you entering the room, and the recognition in your eyes shifted to anger. You threw your drink, and before you could walk away, Rafe caught your arm.

“Baby, please,” he said, voice trembling with urgency. “I need to talk to you. It’s important.” Your eyes flashed with hurt and rage. “Oh, now it’s important? Not when I called or texted you all day? Not when you’re so high you fuck anything that breaths and forget I exist? Now, suddenly, it’s important?”

Rafe pulled you into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him as the noise of the party dulled. “I know this sounds crazy, but I’m not high. I knew everything that was going to happen today. I had to make sure I wasn’t still dreaming. Please trust me. I love you.” Your expression hardened, eyes glistening. “You don’t love me, Rafe. You’re not making any sense. You sound insane. I’m leaving. We’re done. Officially, done.”

He reached for you, desperation turning his voice raw. But you pushed him away, tears streaming as you walked out. Rafe stood frozen, guilt and helplessness clawing at him. For the first time, he left the party nearly sober, trudging up to Kelce’s guest room. He threw himself face-first onto the bed,

The next morning, Rafe bolted upright and glanced at his phone. Sunday. Again. He quickly dressed and drove straight to the club, determination hardening his features. Before you could brush him off, he dropped to his knees by your table, ignoring the looks of your friends and the other members

“Please,” he begged. “I know I look crazy, but you have to hear me out.” You stood up and motioned for him to follow you out to the golf course, away from prying eyes.

“About what I said last night,” Rafe continued, breathless, “it wasn’t just rambling. The party—it’s happened three times. I’m living the same 2 days over and over. I get up, do stuff for my dad, get to the party, you find me, we break up, I come find you hear, there’s no resolve, I go to bed Sunday night and when I wake up it’s Saturday again. I don’t know why, but I’m losing you each time, and I can’t take it anymore.”

You crossed your arms, a wall of hurt and skepticism. “You expect me to believe that? After three years of lies and betrayal, you think I’ll buy into some theory about time loops all of the sudden? No, Rafe. I’ve had enough.”

He reached for your shoulders, his voice breaking while he smacks his cheek. “Look at me. I’m sober, I’m awake, and I’m telling you the truth. Something isn’t right, and I can’t let you walk away.”

Your eyes softened for a moment, but you shook your head, stepping back. “I can’t do this.” And with that, you turned and left him standing on the empty fairway, the early morning light casting long shadows. Rafe stood there, piecing together the pattern. The loop was about you. It was punishment, a reckoning for the way he’d taken you for granted. Each version of the day confirmed that losing you was the universe’s way of making him face the consequences. But if he had this chance, he’d use it. That night, he skipped Barry’s and stayed in his room, scribbling notes and plans, willing himself to break the cycle.

Loop 4. Rafe woke up early, it’s Saturday… again. His heart thumping as he texted you before you could reach out first. He asked if you’d meet him at the dock, the place where you’d had your first date. When you agreed, a rare glimmer of hope sparked inside him. When you arrived, he stood and hugged you tightly, pressing kisses to your forehead. You pulled back, a puzzled smile playing on your lips. “What’s all this for?”

“I just love you,” Rafe said, voice steadier than it had been in ‘days’. “Please, sit. I need to talk to you.” You settled on the blanket, accepting your favorite snack he handed you. “So, talk.” He took a breath, the weight of three years and three repeated days pressing down on him. “I know this will sound insane, but hear me out. I’ve been in this loop—like, I’ve woken up on the same Saturday, again and again. Every day, the same mistakes. Ignoring you, getting high, letting someone else come between us, and you leaving. When I go to bed Sunday night, k wake up and it’s Saturday again.It’s the worst pain I’ve ever felt, and I can’t lose you again. I need you to believe me. I don’t want anything to be the same. I want to change for you. Maybe it’s just a dream. But it feels so real, I can’t shake it. I can’t lose you.”

You studied his face, eyes searching for any hint of deceit. Then, cautiously, you placed your palm on his forehead, half-joking. “You’re right. You do sound crazy. But you’ve never promised to change before. That’s… something.” A sad, hopeful smile tugged at Rafe’s lips. “I mean it. I’ll do anything. I’ll go to rehab, give up the coke, anything. I just want you.”

Your lips curved into a small smile, and you leaned in, kissing him gently. “Come on,” you said, pulling him up by the hand. “My parents aren’t home. Let’s go somewhere we can really talk.”

Back at your house, you sat on your bed, facing him. “You know how much I love you, Rafe. But how much do you really love me? These past three years have been exhausting. I’m tired of giving and getting nothing in return.” “I love you more than anything. I’m sorry it took something this insane to make me realize how much I need you. I want to make up for all the time I wasted. I promise.”

You brushed your thumb along his cheek, turning his face to yours. “Then prove it. Promise me again.” You leaned in, and he whispered between kisses, “I… promise.” He lays you down on the bed, resting in between your legs. You grip his shirt trying to get it off. He sits up pulling it off and you mimic him pulling off yours. He reaches your lips again and you both fumble with each other’s pants. When you finally get each other’s clothes off, he lifts you up into the center of the bed. Kissing his way back down to lean in front of you. Leaving kisses on your inner thighs making his way to your clit. Just the simple kiss has your back arching. Rafe is never this gentle with you. It’s usually quick fucks or rough. Never soft or intimate so you make sure to take in everything. He takes his time. Making sure he tastes every bit of you. He keeps going and your back lifts off the more and more until a wave of relief washes over you. Rafe doesn’t stop until you’re back on the bed and your grip of his hair loosens a bit. He cleans up what’s left and makes his way back to you, leaving behind a trail of kisses.

He stops for a second just to stare at you. Wondering how he got so lucky to have someone as beautiful as you and how he just managed to fuck it up and take advantage of all that beauty and love. You stare back at him wondering if he’s serious, but you’re so in love with him that if he is you’ll be there every step of the way. You grab the back of his head and pull him back in to continue kissing him. Your other hand reaches in between you to line him up and you nudge him to push in by wrapping your legs around his waist. He slowly enters you, savoring each second. He moves instantly but the thrusts are different. They’re strategic and careful. You let out moans and he moves to the crook of your neck kissing it softly. He keeps these movements the entire time. You both climax at the same time and he goes to move but you hold him against you.

“You swear promise?” You ask while rubbing his back. “I promise, every bit of it. The both of you lay in bed for the rest of the day and when nightfall comes you fall asleep in each other’s arms. When Rafe is woken up by the light peaking in from the morning sunrise. He checks his phone instantly it’s Sunday. He panics a little but then he notices the weight on him. It’s you, lying on his chest. He lets out a sigh of relief realizing the cycle was broken, he’s back in reality. He pulls you in close giving you a kiss on the top of the head.

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ohimsummer · 1 year ago

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BEG FOR IT ft. BULLY! SATOSUGU

— minors dni, bully! satosugu x female! reader, feisty idk, dubcon, groping, nipple play, nipple stimulation, biting/marking, a hint of choking, teasing

wc 1.9k

You’ve heard the name Satoru Gojo whispered among males and females alike on campus. How he’s good looking and charming and oh-so skilled at everything. You think his greatest skill might be getting on the nerves of people who want nothing to do with him.

This isn’t the first time you’ve gotten into an altercation with Gojo. It seems he seeks you out for the sole purpose of one; to pin your wrists above your head and lean in close to tease, and suffocate you with his loud cologne that you’ll never admit smells delectable on him. The way this song and dance usually goes is he spots you, taunts you, wrestles you against a wall until he deems your squirming and whining “too annoying”, and then he leaves you with a “See ya later, princess!”. You don’t know why today suddenly warrants different results.

“Let go of me, Gojo.”, you deadpan at him, icy stare meeting his own. You don’t find this manhandling of you funny, you never do, and you hate the way Gojo laughs about it like your dismay is just hilarious to him.

“Make me.”, he chuckles in your face.

Fuck him. You twist against his hold again, and Gojo has to give you credit for actually managing to free a hand. Though it’s about all you’ll manage. He’s too big and too heavy for you to force proximity — it’s like throwing yourself at a brick wall. Doesn’t mean you can’t try.

“Aw, how cute.,” Gojo snickers at your attempt to push him away by the throat, grabbing your wrist and holding it away from him. “Try a little harder for me, yeah?” And he bats those stupid, long eyelashes at you.

You sigh in exasperation and squirm some more. You stamp at his foot, and he moves them at the last minute every time. You push against him to at least get away from the wall, but it’s all to no avail. He’s got you trapped here and there seems to be nothing you can do about it.

“Give up?,” he asks at your deflation.

His taunt springs you back to life, and your cheeks puff out in an angry pout. “Let go of me, I said!”

“Make me, I said.”

And if it wasn’t for your hands being restrained, you’d claw him right in his annoyingly pretty face.

You wriggle again. “You’re such an asshole. Don’t you have anything better to do with your spare time besides harass innocent girls?”

Gojo maneuvers your wrists into one hand just so he can tap at his chin. “Better than this? Don’t think so, gorgeous.” He leans forward to whisper into your ear. “And I’m not harassing innocent girls, I’m harassing you-“

“Get off me!” Your writhing and thrashing cuts off the end of his sentence, and Gojo bursts with laughter at your futile struggles.

“Oh? Who’s that?”

Both of you turn to the sound of the familiar voice. You sigh an obvious, angry breath at the arrival of another annoying man, Suguru Geto. Of all the people who could have come across you two, it had to be someone else to get on your nerves.

“My little plaything.,” Gojo answers. “Cute, isn’t she?“

Geto comes to stand next to his best friend, and something twitches in the pit of your stomach. Aggravation, yes, but something else telling you to hurry and get out of there.

You glare at the two men who steadily eye your constrained form. The look in their eyes harbors anything but good intentions.

Geto starts. “She-“

“Are you two gonna hold me here all day or….?” You have a feeling their spiteful answer is closer to yes, so since you figure they’ll keep you here, might as well be as annoying to them as they are to you.

“Such a pretty face.” You turn away as Geto thumbs at your glossy lips. “Shame you’re so rude.”

“Oh, excuse me for not being so polite to my captors.” They laugh at the scowl on your face, and you find yourself shrinking away from their salacious leering.

Geto tilts his head, and you notice his lingering gaze on your chest. “I just got here, I’m not the one keeping you in these halls.”

“Well, you’re surely not helping.”

Gojo chimes in. “You don’t wanna spend time with us, Y/-“

His grip loosened for just a second, guard let down because Geto’s around, and you take full advantage of it. You yank your wrists away from his grasp, bolting between them and heading for the nearest door to the outside. You can see it clearly, your escape: white double doors with warm sunlight flooding in through the window, a lit up path to your savior, the outside. Your fingers are grazing that first streak of sunshine, the heat of it kisses your fingertips-

There’s a jerk of your wrist, and your salvation is stripped away as fast as it came. You feel a firm heat against your back, and the view of the doors is blocked by Geto’s tall frame. Bright beams of sunlight flow around his body, giving him such a dramatic lighting. Like he’s a god or something. You have to laugh, if not for the irony then for your own sanity because your escape attempt has been so quickly thwarted.

Gojo’s hefty, patronizing laugh sounds out in your eardrum. “And where did you think you were going, hm?”

You’re so pissed off you can’t even hear their cruel mockery. Hands now pinned behind your back, all you can do is hang your head in frustration and curse them in your mind, and God knows you’re cursing the absolute hell out of them. Gojo and Geto and their stupid laugh, their stupid faces, their stupid, stupid need to always be bothering you.

Caught up in your own scornful thoughts, you don’t hear when they address you.

“Think we broke her?,” Gojo asks.

Geto hums, chuckles. “Maybe.” He steps a little closer to you and Gojo. “Let’s see.”

His larger hands hover over your sides, rising until they near your chest. Gojo eagerly studies his movements over your shoulder, watches in anticipation as his friend’s hands come to rest on your breasts.

The groping of your boobs brings you back to reality, and you snap your gaze to the dark haired man in front of you. “H-hey, wait a second-!”

Geto doesn’t stop, only begins slowly massaging your tits as Gojo speaks. “Oh? Back with us, princess?”

You’re incredulous at the absolute gall they have to treat you this way. “Stop that!”

Narrow, dark eyes meet your own, wide and brimming with newfound anxiety. Geto ignores your demands, and his thumbs move to press over your nipples through the two layers of your shirt and bra. It feels so teasing, and the ministrations are causing a wetness between your legs, but you’d never let these two see this is turning you on.

You wiggle and pull away from Geto, but that only presses you further into Gojo’s body. It’s a lose-lose situation. Geto sees the realization in your eyes.

“Gonna behave for me?,” he murmurs as his fingers dip beneath your shirt.

“St-stop—!”, you try and command him with even an ounce of authority, but it comes out as a feeble whimper.

Gojo uses one hand to keep your wrists bound, and the other latches onto your throat. He directs your wavering glare towards him, presses his lips to your cheek as he continues to taunt you.

“We’ll let you go if you beg…”, he offers.

And your immediate answer is of course no, you’d rather eat shit and die. “I most certainly will not! Let go of me!”

Geto pulls your shirt above the swell of your breasts, exposing a lacey, pink bra. He comments ‘cute’, and you barely register it since you’re too busy struggling to turn your head against Gojo’s tight grip. He presses a kiss to the corner of your lips, and while you’re reeling with what you hope is disgust, you feel the tightness of your bra loosen and the undergarment falls to the floor.

“Look at that.”, Gojo halts his teasing assault on you for a second to take a good look at your exposed tits. “So selfish hiding all this from us.”

“I’m not-!,” A squeak interrupts your statement as Geto runs a tongue over one nipple. Your thighs clench on instinct, and the look they share tells you they both noticed.

“I’m not!”, you finish your sentence. You don’t even know what else to say after that.

“Y’know…”, Geto mutters in between harsh suckles of your hardening nipples. “Perhaps if you weren’t so weak, you could’ve been out of this by now...”

The sheer audacity for him to even utter such a phrase has you struggling once again. “Weak? It’s taking two of you just to keep me here!”

Gojo promptly quips, “Only one of us is holding you, sweetheart.”

You aim to crush his toes beneath your shoes, only to be met with the floor when Gojo once again dodges your attack. Your lack of a proper comeback might as well be the funniest joke on earth the way he laughs in your ear about it. Not like it’s your fault, how are you supposed to focus with Geto swirling your nipples on his tongue and pinching them between thick fingers, and Gojo biting and sucking rough marks along your neck? You’re fighting back moans and trying to find the strength just to stay upright. If that wasn’t enough, you’re also juggling the fact that your panties are soaked straight through and, if you don’t leave soon, they’ll notice the discoloration dripping down your stockings.

Gojo gives your throat a squeeze, and smirks as you rasp in a breath.

“All you gotta do is beg for it.”, he quietly sings against your earlobe.

Pride be damned, you needed to get away before they used your arousal as another excuse to keep you around any longer. And to escape straight to your dorm for a little private time because just the way Geto was playing with you was gonna have your pussy leaking everywhere. You would not, could not afford to let them see you like that. You’d never hear the end of it.

Gojo’s hand leaves your throat and you let out a sigh. But your relief is short-lived as you feel his touch edge closer to your backside.

You’ve never made a decision faster. “Please let go of me.”

For a split second, it’s like time has stopped. Geto pulls away from your hardened nipples with a loud ‘pop’, Gojo’s hand stills on the curve of your ass. Both men look at you with matching grins, like they just won a Nobel prize.

Geto speaks first. “What was that?”

And Gojo right after. “Yeah, repeat it again?”

Your brows furrow and your gaze falls directly to the floor. “Pl…please let go of me.”

The grip on your wrists loosens instantly, and you snatch away from them both. You tug your shirt down to cover your breasts, and wrap both arms around yourself.

“See, now was that so hard?”, Gojo laughs after you who’s already heading out the door, yelling a shaky ‘fuck you guys!’ as it drifts shut behind you.

You walk back to your dorm on wobbly legs, erect buds poking through your wrinkled top. Finally able to flop down in the comfort of your bed, you realize you never picked your bra up off the floor.

No worries. It’s perfectly safe in their hands.

(aftermath)

#satosugu x reader #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader smut #suguru geto smut #suguru geto x reader #geto x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut

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buckyalpine · 2 years ago

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DBF Bucky

This turned out more debauched than i intended, my bad.

No thots just -

Dads best friend Bucky.

“C’mon spread your legs for daddy” He has you straddled on top of him, lining his cock up with your soaked cunt, rubbing the tip through your folds. You whine, sinking down on him, feeling a mix of pleasure and pain at the stretch of his length. “That’s it baby girl, lookin’ so pretty for me, God damn”

Your nails dug into his thick shoulders, thigh burning from riding him up and down, your breasts bouncing in his face. It didn’t matter how many times he had you spread out like this, it always made him feral; the one person that was off limits to him, naked and riding his cock.

“Such a good slut for me sugar, my little fuckdoll” He groaned, grabbing your hips, and squeezing your ass in his hands, loving how soft your skin was. “Dirty filthy fuckin’ slut, you love fuckin’ your dads best friend”

“M’not a slut” you pout, moaning when he thrusted up from under you, nudging against that sensitive spot only he could reach.

“But you’re my slut princess, look at the creamy mess you’re making all over me, you’re so slutty baby, you’re a dirty girl, so fuckin’ naughty” Bucky couldn’t get enough of your bottom lip jutting out, chewed raw, your skin glistening with sweat, your face twisted from pleasure. He grabbed his phone, guiding you to lean back so he could capture your whole body with his cock sheathed inside you.

“Daddy, what are y-”

“Shhh, smile for me pretty baby” Bucky cooed, capturing the way your brows were knitted together, eyes glazed over. He captured another of you looking at him with those doe eyes that drove him insane. Then another of your perfect form, white cream messy on the dark hair at the base of his cock, your thighs spread across him.

“Lean back and open those legs for me, lemme see that pretty button of yours baby” Bucky murmured, gently maneuvering you till your legs were spread wide apart, your pussy stretched around his shaft. “There it is, s’all swollen huh princess, want daddy to rub it better?”

Your felt your skin heat up, burning under his gaze while he eyed you up and down, getting more pictures all just for him.

“Daddy” you whined out, collapsing on his chest, hiding away from him. You kept your face against his neck, needy whimpers slipping past your lips, sucking on his pulse point to keep your moans down. Bucky let out a soft chuckle, stroking your hair and rubbing your back, tossing his phone aside while continuing to fuck up into you.

“All shy for me, sweets? Use your words pretty girl, you want daddy to play with your clit? Make you feel good?”

“uh huh” Your voice was muffled against his neck, crying out when he started to speed up. He slammed your hips down to meet his strokes, pulling your body to his and rolling over. He pinned you against the bed, fucking you into the mattress.

“OH-F-Fuck! Da-Daddy!” Your eyes rolled back, screwed shut from pleasure.

“Open your eyes” He smacked your cheek, squeezing them together, making your lips pout, “Keep your eyes open while I fuck you, don’t you dare close them baby, look at me when I’m deep in your pussy”

You clung onto him, legs wrapped around his waist, arms around his shoulders, taking each of his thrusts, your nails scratching angry red lines down his back. He let out a growl, snaking a hand down, pressing onto your lower belly, making you feel where his tip was hitting that sensitive spot only he could reach.

“Feel that? Feel my cock in you sweets, s’deep, so deep in you, m’making a mess in there baby, there’s so much precum, m’leaking so much in you”

You clenched at the thought of his cum filling you up, usually having him pull out and covering your face instead. Your pussy dripped around his shaft at how it would feel to have him give you his full load, his warm seed pumping you up, giving you his kids, feeling him throb-

Fuck-

“Open your mouth” You obeyed instantly, sticking your tongue out, letting him spit in your mouth, humming in satisfaction when you swallowed. “You’re such a good girl for me baby, makin’ it hard for me to pull out”

Then don’t.

“I gotta pull out, huh? Better ease up sweets, choking my dick, I don’t know how long I’ll last with the way your squeezing and milking me”

Then give me your milk, daddy.

You whimpered, clenching your thighs around his waist, not wanting him to pull out. You shook your head while he let out a moan almost as if he was in pain, his body weight dropping on you.

“S’not fair princess, you know I can’t”

He couldn’t.

You were his best friends daughter.

Your dad would kill him if he knew.

He couldn't

“Ease up sweets, you’re gonna make cum in you” Bucky warned as best as he could, his pace growing sloppy.

“Put a baby in me daddy!” Your legs wrapped tighter around him, your ankles locked at his lower back. You bit your lip, looking at him with desperate doe eyes, clinging around his body, “Wanna have your baby”

“Oh God” Bucky could feel his cock swell, his balls painfully heavy, the veins running along his shaft throbbing. He worked his hips faster, giving you harsh, slopping thrusts, his feet slipping against the sheets. “You want a baby? You want my baby? I’ll give you a fuckin’ baby” Bucky moaned, pounding into you until the headboard slammed against your wall.

What the hell was he doing, he couldn’t-

“Get me pregnant daddy”

Fuck, yes he could.

“You’re gonna be a good. little. mama, n’I’m gonna be your baby daddy, n’you’re gonna be so gorgeous with that round belly and so much milk for our baby” You cried out, feeling pleasure building higher and higher, just ready to tip over as he slammed into you, his hands fisting the sheets by your head. “You gonna feed me baby?” He sucked your nipple into his mouth, his pace faltering further at the thought of your sweet milk flowing into his mouth, “Gonna give me mommys sweet warm milk?”

“Daddy, m’cumming!!” Your orgasm ripped through you without warning, clenching and squeezing his cock, making his balls tighten. Bucky let out a pornographic moan a the feeling of your scratches, legs locked at his waist not letting him pull out. His cock was rock hard, swollen beyond belief as he finally caved, letting pleasure burst through his cock.

“FUCKK” He roared against your neck, the sheets tearing under his grip as he started to pump ropes of cum into you, “That’s it, take all of my cum in that pussy, take my kids pretty girl, my filthy little baby” Bucky stilled, still dribbling into you while you panted, your body pliant underneath him. He softly stroked your hair, gently kissing your temple, your eyes growing wide when you felt his cock some how harden again almost instantaneously.

“Better have an excuse for your dad baby, cause I’m not leaving this bed till you make me a daddy”

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rimunagenius · 8 months ago

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Good Game

ʚ pairing: Kate Martin x Cheerleader!reader

ʚ word count: 1.3k words

ʚ warnings: RPF!! , otherwise none.

ʚ request: anon ask; “are you down to make a kate martin x cheerleader reader?��

ʚ rimunagenius speaks: here’s another request! i love that you guys are sending requests, and i’m glad that i’m the one you’re choosing to ask to write them! thank you so much for liking what i write, truly unbelievable. Also, I’m making my way through my inbox so from now on, my fics will most likely be request, so feel free to drop some more, but also, please be patient as i continue to do so! enjoy!

"Good job, Martin!" You yelled at you waved your pom poms infront of you, engaging in your cheer, but looking to the side as the Iowa women's basketball team ran down the tunnel for half time.

You gave her the biggest smile, getting one in return. "Thank you!" She grabbed a cup of water and ran down the tunnel following her teammates.

Usually that's how all of your interactions went. A 'good job' or 'you're doing great' here and there. Kate was your favorite on the team. She was tall, pretty, kind, and really damn good at playing ball. What's there not to like about her? You always mentioned her to your cheer friends; they evolved to trying to start up conversations with Kate and bring you into it.

It helped that one of your bestfriends was on the basketball team, too. You and Kylie met on your first day at Iowa University. You two have been inseparable since then.

So every game, you'd get to just a little bit early, hitching a ride with Kylie, and she knew full well why you did it. There was the off chance that you'd talk to Kate. They normally had shoot around, and the cheer team would get there just a half hour later to start warm ups and make sure the music was working.

You valued your time before every home game. That's why Kylie made sure to make you bump into Kate on your way into the big game tonight.

"Hey, Kate!" Kylie shouted to the blonde ahead. She turned around, her long blonde hair twisting as she turned to look at you and Kylie.

"Hey! Oh, Hi!" Kate greeted her teammate, and then greeting you, with a side hug. She was much taller this close than from the sideline to baseline view. Your knees were weak.

"Hey! You excited for tonight?" You beamed, you were also excited for tonight. The big Iowa vs. UConn game for the final four spot.

"Yeah, super. Your cheering tonight?" Kate knew the answer, she just didn't know what to say because you made her nervous. You could tell by the way her cheeks reddened immediately after asking.

"Yeah, I am. That's why I came with Kylie." You turned to point to your friend, only to find she left. You look up ahead and see her walking with Sydney down the hall towards the lockerroom. "Oh, nice." You whispered as you turned back to Kate.

Your cheeks turning pink just by the sheer height difference. "Nice, you're gonna cheer for me right? Your favorite on the team obviously." She bumped your shoulder, making you laugh.

"I will cheer for you, but only out of obligation. Y'know, I didn't get a full ride for nothing." Your sarcasm eliciting a small giggle from the tall blonde.

"Haha, very funny." Kate looked ahead, catching Kylie peak her head out of the lockerroom doorway, immediately blushing harder.

"Kylie's actually my favorite, but i'll make an acception for the cute golden retriever." You smiled up at Kate, tossing a small strand of hair up playfully, her smile widening some more.

"Yay, the cute cheerleader loves me." She bumped your shoulder again, both of you walking into the lockerroom like big grinning idiots. Kylie definitely texts you after you walk out with your headphones she had in her bag, asking how it went.

You walked onto the court, a couple of your teammates here already, smiling at your phone while you told Kylie what happened. You then didn't fail to talk about it all the way until the girls started warms ups. You didn't want to get caught talking about a minor interaction between your literal crush.

"Wait, stop. I think Kate likes you, babe." Your teammate literally stopped you dead in your tracks. You didn't know if you heard that correctly. You hoped you did.

"No, stop it. No she doesn't." You looked over, and sure enough Kate had been looking at you. You both gave eachother a small smile before resuming to your respective duties.

"Girl, she's been looking over here every thirty seconds. Of course she likes you." You smiled softly, thanking the cheer gods that your uniform looked so good on you. Seriously, you were glad you were confident enough to strike up a conversation. She was so pretty you didn't think you'd be able to do it.

"Okay, stop telling me that or that's all i'll think about all night, and I don't want to forget our cheers. Especially the half time performance." You sighed as you walked off the court, to do stationary stretches, while the girls used the full court to do warm up drills.

Now it was your turn to stare. You watched her as she moved in sync with her team. Fully enamored by the way she moved, communicated, and played with her team.

During the game, was no different. You’d watch her play, literally just watched her. Something about her was just so intriguing. You couldn’t look away.

She’d look to you, smile and continue to play her game. She would try and hide the smile when she heard you scream ‘let’s go 20’ and hasn’t stopped thinking about it. She thought about it all the way through the second half, and completely into half time.

She wished she could watch the halftime performance, wanting to watch you do your thing, in that pretty uniform, the skirt that fit you perfectly. You two had seemed to be totally enamored with eachother it was driving you both nuts.

After the game, the team went into the tunnel, for the normal post game talk. You were nervous to sit in, Coach Bluder allowing you to sit and listen since Kylie was your ride and you were just minding your own business. The lockerroom was fairly big, you finding a spot infront of a locker, scrolling through tiktok with your headphones on. You hadn’t known the huddle was over until someone was approaching you.

Looking up, you met the perfect blue eyes yet again. You looked up and saw you were sitting at her locker. “Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll just—“ You started talking and got up when she had already reached for her towel on the top shelf. Your bodies were pressed against eachother, eyes looking into the others, your breath mixing together.

“Oh..uh. Sorry!” Kate said, sidestepping to let you pass. Both your cheeks were red and demeanor suddenly timid and bashful. The things you two did to eachother.

You neeed her number.

She needed your number.

You then stood by Kylie’s locker, waiting for her to finish up, her opting to shower at her home, and then before walking out, you turned around and walked up to Kate. You didn’t know if it was the confidence of Iowa winning the game, the adrenaline running super high. But either way, you were doing it.

It was now or never. You liked her, and wanted to talk to her longer than short conversations before and after games. Getting closer, you tapped her on her shoulder. Her eyes wide, a soft puppy look on her face, god your knees were weak. “Hey!” She smiled as she put her basketball shoes in her bag, sliding her feet into her slides.

“Hey! So, you can totally say no, but I wanted to know if I could get your number?” You smiled nervously at the blonde, her smile growing wider.

“Yeah, of course. Here.” She handed you her phone, letting you type in your number, sending a quick text so you could save her number in your phone. Feeling your phone vibrate, you thank her and handed her her phone back.

Her now standing infront of you, you decided to kiss her cheek. Her face immediately turning a light shade of red. She rubbed the back of her neck softly, before looking down at her feet and then back up to you.

“Good game tonight, Martin.” You turned heel, and walked out the door leaving her absolutely stunned. She could not wait to text you tonight.

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tadpolesonalgae · 1 year ago

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Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You

Azriel x Third-oldest-archeron-sibling!reader

a/n: I was in the mood for a writing a heated argument that turns into an even hotter make-out session, but then it got slightly depressing so…

warning: slight angst but not much because I can’t take that emotionally :’)

word count: 3,888

-Part 2[*]-

“How was she today?”

You fight the urge to clench your jaw. The harsh snapping of your book is the limit to how far you’ll allow the leash on your anger to slip. Jealousy? Frustration? Whatever complicated nonsense he’s gotten you tangled up in.

“No hello? What about a how are you today?” You ask tersely. So much for keeping your emotions on a tight leash. His brow narrows a little—you don’t usually bubble over when he asks how your older sister is doing. “You weren’t practically bed-ridden for months,” he replies slowly, gauging your response carefully.

Instantly, guilt weighs in the pit of your stomach, and you look away quickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you,” you soothe hastily. Gods, why did you say that to him? You’re trying to gain his favour, not make him think you’re an ungrateful, self-absorbed sister. “She was fine. We did some baking—well, Elain did some baking, I was reading something. It’s a new book, actually! Because I finished the last one, which was actually pretty good, but this one I think is set in the last war and…” you trail off when you notice the patient smile he’s giving you.

Right. He’s not interested in what book you’re reading, or how you spent the day. He’s not interested in you full stop. He’s interested in Elain. You fight the way disappointment wants to twist the edges of your mouth, instead plastering on a smile that you hope he reads as oops, look at me! There I go again, haha.

“Well,” you say, swallowing the lump in your throat, “she made some cupcakes—I think they were vanilla, and she put something that looked like jam inside. Really good. I’m sure she’d be happy for you to try one—if you ask,” you smile, adding in the details he wants to hear. For the Spymaster, he’s surprisingly open about his interest in Elain to you. But maybe that’s because you’re always so willing to answer any question you can for him.

“I’m glad,” he says, something glimmering in his hazel eyes. “And there were no silent spots? No abrupt changes?” You return your attention to the book in your hands, fingers running over the bound edges, “she was fine all the way. You never would have guessed everything she’s been through.” He hums, pleased with her progress. It’s a sound of contentment, from the back of his throat that you’re certain rumbles throughout his chest. It’s an effort to keep your attention on the book.

It’s been more than two years since the three of you were tossed into the Cauldron. Feyre and Rhysand are happy, Nesta’s made progress on healing herself and is now alarming in love with Cassian, Elain’s taking large steps in a good direction, too. You remember vividly the time when she would hardly utter a word for days, hardly shift her gaze from a strange spot in the middle-distance, how worried she made you and Nesta. And Feyre, obviously, but things were a little…strange at the time. They always had been.

You spent the first few months struggling to hold a meal down, often being wracked with spasms of anxiety and flushes of hot and cold. There was a time you would black out if you stood up too fast, and now you can hold down three meals a day without needing to run to the nearest latrine provided you don’t eat too quickly. You feel like yourself again, but fresher. You know you aren’t the same as you were, though. Not after the Cauldron, but you had no choice but to adapt. With eternity ahead of you, you couldn’t stand the thought of spending it weakened and frail—hardly capable of standing without feeling dizzy.

Maybe you are a little jealous that Elain’s getting all the attention. She’d always been the centre of Nesta’s attention, and while you were on fairly good terms with your oldest sister throughout your childhood, you were no competition for her sharp mind and sharper tongue. Feyre was the wild one, Elain the pretty one, Nesta the cunning one—then there was you.

What’s your place in your dysfunctional family?

“It’s good she seems to be steadily improving,” Azriel says, breaking you from your inner thoughts. You nod dutifully, agreeing with him. “She smiled for most of it, too,” you add, remembering how pleased she’d been when they came out how she wanted—after numerous attempts. “Though she was covered in flour—her hair was practically white!” You laugh fondly, covering your mouth with your hand.

A faint smile appears on his lips and, for just a moment, you let yourself pretend he’s smiling at the sound of your laugh.

But that’s all you have to report back to him, and even if you’ve pleased him, he’ll be finding an excuse to slip off now that he knows she’s been fine. You’ll admit, it’s difficult to remember she’s your sister when he so clearly would choose her over you. It’s not even a competition.

So you swallow your nerves, tuck your hands behind your back and peer up at him. “Hey, you read right?” You ask, keeping a pleasant smile on your lips—lest he think you’re too eager. He blinks out of whatever thought he was having, clearing his gaze as he looks down at you, then nods. “I’ve been known to pick up a book from time to time,” he answers. He’s in a good mood, it seems.

“Do you have a favourite?” You ask, tipping your head at a slight angle, appearing to look at the books stacked on the shelves. “I feel like I’ve been rereading the same story over and over again and want to try something else.”

“You’re asking me to pick just one?” He replies, quirking his brow. The smile that comes to your mouth isn’t as fake, or as controlled as you would like—it stretches your lips thin, showing the gaps either side of the top row of your teeth.

“Okay, give me a couple to have a nose at. So if one bores me to tears, I can pick up another,” you laugh gently, pulling the book tight to your chest, worried you’re showing too much. Does he know how your days often centre around whether he’ll seek you out? The too-short conversations that often revolve around your sister?

“Does Elain read?” He asks, tentatively, and it’s like a stone to your cheek. You clutch the book tighter to your chest, taking in a slow, quiet breath. “I can ask her? Subtly, of course,” you force a smile, fingers digging into the spine of the book. He shakes his head, “I’ll do it. I’d like to see how she’s doing for myself.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, “to be fair, she might be sick of them for how long she was in here last year. They might be an eyesore by now,” you laugh softly. But instead he frowns disapprovingly, like you shouldn’t be making jokes at her expense. And suddenly that urge appears, the urge to confront him about his behaviour—why he never talks to you for you.

“Azriel…?” You say, the smile slipping from your lips, though your make sure your eyes still sparkle a little, keeping them partially crinkled. But then you bite the inside of your lip, and the rest of the mask fades, leaving you raw, and more than a bit scared. If you overthink it, it’ll never get done.

“Why do you…I don’t feel like you ever…like we ever talk. Us,” you say, then flush at the word—so intimate. Us. “What do you mean?” He asks, standing sturdy before you. A seed of frustration sprouts within, but you push the irritation away. “I just…You’re always asking me about Elain.” His brow narrows a bit, and you want to take the words back.

“What else?”

You look up at him, all beauty and classical grace, and such unearthly, ethereal lines and angles to him you wish you knew how to paint like Feyre. “What do you mean, ‘what else’?” You ask, a little hurt.

“I mean, is there something else you want to talk about?” He asks, gently. Carefully.

My book would be nice. I’d like you to ask how I’m doing today, how I’m feeling, what I want to do.

“Something that doesn’t involve my sister, would be nice,” you laugh, giving him a smile that reads, can you really blame me for not wanting to talk about Elain all the time? He doesn’t smile like you’d hoped, but frowns. “Do you not like her?” He asks instead, “did something happen between you two?”

“No,” you say hurriedly. “No—nothing happened, we’re fine. Right as rain. It’s just…you always ask after her, and I feel like that’s the only reason you approach me.” You swallow, having begin to put the truth out there for him. “You seem fine talking about other things with Feyre and Nesta, but I can’t remember the last time we talked about something that wasn’t my sister, and I… I don’t really…” You trail off, watching him nervously.

His frown only deepens as he takes you in. “I’m asking out of concern for her well-being, you understand that, don’t you?” He asks.

“I know, I know, but…are you?” You reply, managing to reign in your wince at the blunt question. When he only looks at you without response, you push forward. “I mean, you…you like her, don’t you? That’s why you ask all these questions? Why you care more than the others do?” You say, fighting to keep your voice even as the words come out. “And there’s nothing wrong with that,” you quickly amend, “but, you know, it would be nice to talk to you for you. And you for me. And, you know, she does have a…mate, so, I just thought—”

“What did you think?”

You blink at the sharp tone, his eyes colder than before, more sealed off. Still, you square your shoulders, keeping the book tucked tight against your front. “Well, that, maybe, it would be better to try somewhere else? Instead of investing in someone who’s practically already taken?”

“She doesn’t love him.”

“I know she says that, but—”

“But nothing,” he says, brow narrowing. “The mating bond can’t force someone to fall in love. If she doesn’t want him, she doesn’t have to have him.”

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips as you shift on your feet beneath his penetrating gaze. “Feyre and Rhys worked out,” you manage, eyes flitting away from his, focusing on the book in your hands. “And she didn’t love him at first.” The paper’s old and crisp—worn with age. “Then Nesta and Cassian also got together, too,” you add, the pads of your fingers dragging over the pages, “and you saw what Nesta was like. How badly she was struggling. They didn’t look like they were going anywhere but destruction, but—”

“Are you done with the nosey speculation into other people’s relationships, or is that how you’ve found yourself filling your time?”

Again you blink at him, caught off guard by the ice in his tone. “I’m not saying it’s wrong to pursue her, Azriel,” you appease—try to. “I’m just saying maybe you could try looking…elsewhere, you know? Maybe try something with someone else? That won’t end badly?”

“You don’t know it will end badly,” he replies, all former warmth gone, no trace of it in his beautifully designed features. “It will for someone. Even if you and Elain do somehow end up together, what about Lucien? If it were Feyre and Rhys, or Nesta and Cass, would you think it okay for someone to try and separate them? When they were chosen to be together?”

“Bad pairings happen. Rhys’ parents are a fine example.”

“Yes, but they’re rather suited for one another, don’t you think?” You ask, pushing forward, “Elain’s always excelled at social events. She easily settles into the flow of conversation—she knows what to say, and how to act to put people at ease around her. And Lucien does the same. He knows how to draw ties between people where there seem to be none, just like her. He knows how to keep conversation flowing without pushing it, how to keep things at the right pace, just like her.”

“While you…” you pause, and his jaw tightens.

“Go on,” he says icily, “tell me why think I’m undeserving of her.”

“I don’t think its a case of deserving, Azriel,” you say quickly. “But you…well, you try to blend into any corner you can when there are more than three people in the room.”

His brow narrows, “I didn’t realise you’d been keeping tabs on me.”

“Yes, well, you’re the only one I’m interested in, so.” Your voice is soft, bladed, honed. Resigned. You lips press into a thin line as your eyes flicker away from his, too embarrassed to look even in his general vicinity. You had never anticipated laying your heart to bare to be so…scary? Terrifying?

Anti-climactic.

Admitted in such a quiet, understated way. As if he isn’t the first one you’ve ever felt so strongly for. As if he isn’t the first one who’s given you a vague understanding of why some women were so happy to do whatever their husbands told them. Why they were so happy to live in subservience, and why that’s not what it was.

“You think you’re deserving of me?” He asks, coldly. Shame and embarrassment heat your features, but you manage to shoot back, “do you think you’re deserving of her?” You cross your arms over your chest, trying to prevent yourself from being intimidated by his height, and muscle, and beauty, and overall damned attractiveness that makes you weak in the knees.

His upper lip twitches in a repressed snarl, anxiety spiking in your chest. “Answer my question,” he says, softly, an edge to his voice. You swallow, “answer mine.” You’ve never demanded something from someone before, but it’s out there now, and it feels surprisingly good to insist on something for yourself.

He regards you silently, and it takes a remarkable strength to stand still beneath his icy gaze—knowing that he’s judging what he’s seeing. Weighing if you’re worth his answer.

“I think I gave a hint of my interest for her,” he says, eyes glittering with something cold that you’re unaccustomed to have turned on yourself. “And she reciprocated with her own signs.” He stares you down, unyielding, and powerful, and you want to run and hide. “What about you?”

You purse your lips to keep them from trembling as heat crawls beneath your skin with humiliation. But—no. Get over it. Make it through. Survive something else. “I think I’m tired, and hurt from knowing that you only talk to me because you want to know how my sister is doing,” you confess, voice wobbling. “I think it’s cruel to continue asking after her when I so obviously answer every question you have just so you might pay me a little more attention.”

There’s no bite to your words, and they come out softer and weaker than you had expected. You feel tired, and drained. Eyelids heavy and heart rate spiking every other beat, numerous crescent shaped indentations on the heel of your palms.

“Maybe you’d be better off turning your affections somewhere they’d be appreciated,” he says, icily. Your heart aches, and it takes a few humiliating moments for you to gather yourself enough that you won’t burst into tears when you again find your voice. “That’s all you have to say?” You manage, fingers trembling behind your back.

“Maybe if you were even half the female she is, I’d be tempted to show a little interest,” he snarls softly, eyes glittering with cold rage.

It feels like a smack to the face, a punch to your stomach. Your eyes go wide, then blur, hot pressure building steadily. You dig your nails into the binding of your book, and move to walk past him—at least preserve what little dignity is still intact by refusing to let him see you cry. He already barely sees you as a woman, you won’t win any points with your blubbering. He wants a female, not a girl.

But he seems to realise what he’s said and turns, gripping your upper arm to keep you from leaving. You allow him to stop you, if only because demanding he let you go would show your tears. “I didn’t mean that,” he says quietly, and you can hear the pity in his voice. “I spoke in anger, I did not mean to upset—”

“Get those hands off me,” you snarl, turning on him with defensive ire blazing in your pupils. Rage fresh from the forges.

He recoils as if you burned him. Retreats a step.

“Not nice, is it? Targeting someone’s insecurity—rubbing salt into an open wound?” You snap, blinking away the tears and pulling your arm back to yourself. “Don’t come asking me for updates on Elain again. I don’t want to talk to you if your only interest is in getting between her legs.”

He’s silent for a moment, and you debate just running from the library—you can feel the storm in him brewing, and you’re not sure you’re ready for him. But he doesn’t wait for you to decide, because the storm breaks right then and there. “At least she has someone interested in getting her into bed,” he says softly, hazel piercing into you. “Can you say the same?”

Mortification flushes your skin, mouth parting in humiliation. “I—…This is inappropriate,” you hiss to hide your burning shame. Because no, it’s always been Elain and Nesta to be pursued. His eyes gleam, reading your thoughts clear as day in your expression. “Thought not.”

Pain twists viciously across your chest, heart strings being plucked within an inch of snapping—pulled taught around your throat. “If I’ve never taken a man to bed, it is not because I am unwanted. Rather that I would not waste my self nor my time on someone I was not sure about. That I did not want with everything I have,” you whisper hoarsely—the final layer stripped bare for him to slice and dissect.

But then he steps forward, and without thinking, you yield a step. He’s not perturbed, and takes another. “You admit you have no experience in bed, yet think you could handle me?” He snarls softly, wings flaring ever so slightly at his back, shadows thickening. “I don’t think it’s a matter of handling you, Azriel.” His name is a little more than a whisper from your mouth. One he tracks eagerly.

“No?” He asks, stepping forward again, slowly herding you. “Then what?” You swallow, trying to stand your ground, but the sense of him is so overpowering, he threatens to obliterate every ounce of your own self. “I think it would be a matter of learning. And if you think I’m unprepared, then Elain is definitely no better off, so that clearly isn’t your issue.”

“At least she’s shared the bed of a man before, at least she would know what to do.” You don’t correct him that you have, in fact, shared a bed with a male before. A few in fact, by this point. Nesta’s the bad influence. He steps forward again, and he’s towering over you, hazel glittering between his shadows. “At least she wouldn’t lose her head over the slightest touch.”

And then his hands have landed softly on your hips, and your head is silent. Only his touch on your body, his warmth on your skin, seeping into your clothes. Does he find your shape pleasing? Is he feeling this mind-numbing shock? The tingling at his fingertips where they’re pressing into you?

For a too-long moment you just stare at him, thoughts eddying about without a destination, floating throughout your conscious.

“Still in there?” He taunts quietly, pushing you back, turning you gently as he feels the heat radiating from your skin, the stiffness to your body beneath his touch. It’s only when a hard, wooden shelf digs into the base of your spine that you realise he’s pushed you against the case. You open your mouth—to say what, you don’t know. He beats you to it either way. “You want to prove you haven’t already lost your mind?” He says softly, voice like a lover’s touch. You can do nothing but stare at him, panting softly, completely at his mercy. “Tell me to stop, or I’ll keep going. Say no, and it finishes,” he murmurs, keeping you pressed tight between his hips and the book case. “But I think you’ve already lost.”

You blink up at him, hardly a thought behind your eyes.

In the back of your mind, you’re struggling frantically to decode his words, translate them into something that makes sense. And then his challenge clicks, and you take a sudden, deep breath. You need to tell him to stop, to show him you’re still in control of yourself—that you haven’t lost your head over the slightest touch.

But then his mouth latches over yours, tongue prying your lips apart, and your efforts of rebellion are washed away. You go all warm, and soft, and pliable in his hands, melting like butter as you coat him. His piercing hazel eyes lock with yours as his mouth slants, one hand rising to the curve of your spine, pulling you against his front.

How are you supposed to stand against him when he annihilates everything that you are with the softest brush of his fingers—fingers that are now tracing up the path of your spine, reaching that final notch as they tangle with delicious pressure in your hair. His gaze cuts into you as his tongue drags across your own, flicking at the roof of your mouth.

He’s utterly unruffled, and you feel like you’re on the verge of bursting into flame right there, setting him ablaze in the process.

But then you’re again subverting his expectations, your hands flying over his shoulders as you tilt your head to allow him deeper. The only sign of surprise he allows is a blink of his eyes, but you’re already lifting onto your tiptoes—the swell of your breasts dragging over his chest in a way you must’ve learned males like. But where would you have learned?

Your arms tighten, then your hips are pressing against him, and—you’re fighting back, he realises. And for the first time in a long, long time, he feels excitement flare deep inside him as you stride to meet him. No matter that you aren’t Elain: he’s hungry, and you can make your own decisions. If you want him to stop, you need only say the word, and he’ll be off you. But if you don’t…well, he’s not going to be the one who backs out first.

He has a damn point to prove—that you have no idea what you’re getting into with him.

Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb

#azriel #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #shadowsinger #Azriel angst #Azriel x Archeron sibling #part one #Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You

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kenslilove · 11 months ago

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᯽៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ Who’s Little Sister?! Pt.2

preview: You called him your boyfriend? Why would you do that? Draken isn't sure he's cut out to be the boyfriend to Takemichi's precious little sister...

ft. Ken "Draken" Ryuuguji x fem!reader

wc. 9kish... help 🫠🤪😰😵‍💫🥴🤡

W. NFSW 18+ MINORS DNI, age gap (Draken is in his late 20’s and owns the bike shop, reader is in their early 20’s in university), fem reader (takemichi’s little sister), crybaby/bimbo reader, angsty in the middle, Draken is very insecure of his ability to be in a relationship, slight exhibitionism (Draken fucks you while on call), multiple cream pies, messy make-outs, oral (m!receiving), mating press, squirting, lots of praise, aftercare, lots of pet names, it gets soft and passionate at the end 🥹🥹

an. The long-awaited part 2 of “Who’s Little Sister.” I put my heart, soul, and pussy into this piece. I think it's my favourite thing I've ever written in all honesty, it very much encapsulates how I think Draken’s and I’s relationship would start. God, I love him so much. It’s also the first time I've written anything remotely angsty though, and I can’t tell if it's lame or not LMFAO. Please, let me know what you think. I'm so very happy to be reposting this piece on this blog to share with yall, it’s literally so important to me <33 and I’m so so happy this is the fic that is bringing back my writing spark! Part 3 will hopefully be even better than this 🙏🏼🤭 Constructive feedback, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

extra note: Listen to “Nothings gonna hurt you baby.” By Cigarettes After Sex during the last scene. It’s Kenny’s and I’s selfship song and help inspired me for the ending <33

tagging: @enchantedforest-network @eveningatthemoviesnetwork and @shoyosdoll bc you've been such a supporter of this fic hehe <33 i hope you love part 2 as much as part 1 <33

“Draken-Kun, are you coming tonight?”

There was silence on Draken’s end of the phone as all the other males on-call waited for a response. Mikey was the first one to say something back, annoyance clear in his tone as he spoke directly into the receiver, making his voice sound much louder than necessary.

“Oi, Ken-Chin, get off the phone if you’re just gonna ignore us.”

“Sorry–” Draken finally responded, his voice seeming just a bit more… strained than usual. Not enough for the boys to notice until he grunted softly, what seemed to be creaking or something muffled in the background of his audio call.

“You good, dude?” Mitsuya piped up, his own voice a little muffled due to a sewing needle between his lips but nothing like Draken’s.

“Oh yea, fuckin peachy–” Draken breathed in response, his huff coming out as a soft laugh when a bit of sweat started to roll down his temple.

If he was being honest, he wasn’t really paying attention to the call, how could he, when you, Takemichi’s precious little sister was underneath him, sprawled out and trembled as his cock drilled into you at a steady pace. You were biting down on your bottom lip so hard, Draken swore that blood would free itself soon from the delicate flesh, your eyes screwed shut as your pretty chest bounced with each thrust of his hips. You were trying so hard for him to be quiet, just like he instructed as soon as he picked up the phone. The attempt was adorable, considering how vocal you usually were for him.

But Draken was twisted, he knew that deep down, so he just couldn’t help himself when he angled his hips just right so his cock head would jab right into that gummy sweet spot within your walls. You yelped, pleasure shooting up your spine, only for the sound to be cut off by the smack of Draken’s free palm clamping over your mouth.

“Who has a girl over~?” Baji piped up, suddenly very much interested in the conversation. Draken laughed shallowly into his receiver, his hand tightening up along your jaw as he continued to ram into the spot that made you see stars. You couldn’t even control your babbles when he did this, an endless stream of whimpers and sobs being muffled into his palm as you held onto his wrist for dear life.

“Gotta go, Text me what time I needa be there–” Draken didn’t wait for a response from his friends. Instead, he hung up quickly, abandoning the device somewhere on the bed. When he released the hold on your mouth you whined at him, the tears finally spilling from your eyes.

“K-Kenny, Kenny please– Please–!”

“So fuckin loud pretty, all the damn time,” Draken says it with a grin, easily manhandling your thighs over his shoulders so he can fuck into you deeper. He presses a kiss to your ankle, right beside the anklet he bought you as your pussy flutters so desperately around his cock.

“O-Oh! Please, Ken–!”

“Please what?” Draken grunts, his hips slapping up against yours ruthlessly now as his release comes dangerously close. He knew you weren’t far behind. Had learned your signs very early on. Your toes would curl, your eyes would get foggy, chest stuttering. Your pussy would milk him so tight and leave rings of arousal on his cock.

And he loved every second of it.

“Wanna cum, needa cum again–!” you pleaded with him, nails digging into the muscles of his flexing biceps. He nodded in agreement, his own voice becoming hoarse due to the sheer squeeze of your pussy. Although his pace started to get sloppy he still fucked into you, one hand slithering between your sweaty bodies in order to massage ruthlessly at your clit.

“Go on then, cum, make a fuckin mess f’me gorgeous.” He breathes, licking his lips when you throw your head back with a cry. The mess you make on his cock is breathtaking, arousal squirting from your used hole and dousing his hand, wrist and abs. He swears under his breath at the borderline painful grip your pussy has on his cock when you finish, one final thrust allowing him to spill ropes of cum right up against your cervix.

Draken’s trembling when he falls onto his elbows over you, his breath coming out a bit shaky as his cock still twitches within your walls in the aftermath of both of your highs. He starts pressing wet, opened-mouthed kisses along your neck and face to help you come too, a soft chuckle leaving his lips when you whine softly.

“You okay baby?” His voice is a whisper, and as the energy slowly comes back to you he smooths his palm over your cheek, thumb swiping under your eye to pick up leftover tears. You nod, one of your trembly hands lazily dragging through his black locks of hair. “Mhm, m’good, Kenny. Help me sit up?” He does, one big palm on the back of your neck to help you to sit up against the headboard.

He presses a smooch to your lips before easing himself out of you, both of you wincing softly from the loss of contact. It’s only when he pulls out completely and his softening cock falls against his thigh that he realises just how big of a mess the two of you made of yourself and the sheets. It makes him swell with pride, a grin slowly curling on his lips.

You’ve come a long way, from the sweet girl who was just learning to cream on his cock to the messes you’ve made on his bed on the daily.

“M’gunna get a cloth.” He says, handing you a glass of water and your phone as soon as he stands to keep you occupied. His muscles are still a bit tingly as he stands, arms stretching up and above his head as he heads towards the bathroom.

“Nice butt!” You call out, making him snort softly as he stands before the bathroom mirror. He can’t help but admire the marks you’ve littered across his neck and chest, the cute little bruises reminding him of the shape of your puckered lips. He then examines the nail marks you’ve left along his forearms and shoulders, some of the red pathways breaking in the middle to show little droplets of blood. Lastly, he sighs dreamily at the sheen of your arousal that coats his pelvis, a ring of white still layered at his base.

Man knew he was in heaven.

When he came back to the bedroom after tidying himself a bit, as well as with a cloth in hand you were on the phone with someone, giggling into the receiver and looking up at Draken with a playful glint in your eye.

“I’ll actually meet with you later, m’with my boyfriend right now~” Despite the way your giggling increased and you squealed to your friend about how you’ve mentioned him before with such excitement, Draken was anything but that.

His chest tightened up, crease forming between his brow. Boyfriend? When did that become his title?

“Kennnnnny~” You snapped him out of his thoughts, though his brows stayed furrowed. “Hurry! The mess is only getting bigger over here.”

One hand was planted on the mattress as he gently wiped the dampened towel over your pussy and thighs, your hand coming to cover his, making him pause in your tracks. “Shouldn’t scowl so much, handsome.” You murmur it gently, thumb gently smoothing between his brows in an attempt to fix the crinkles there. “You’ll get wrinkles~”

“You called me your boyfriend–” His voice was blunt, which took you by slight surprise. A little pout formed on your swollen lower lip as you subconsciously squeezed at his wrist.

“Well, yea–”

“We haven’t talked about that.” He was still being blunt as ever, so much so it almost startled you, made you feel much smaller under him as he sat up on his hunched, throwing the soiled cloth into the laundry bin.

“I-I know…” You simply muttered, chest started to feel tight as you watched just how serious his face had become. He was tugging his strands of black hair into a low bun when you sat up a bit more, fingers gently brushing over his chest. “But I just thought, thought that we were together…”

And it wasn’t wrong for you to think that way. Ever since that first night at Draken’s apartment the two of you had been secretly hanging out. You went out to restaurants, and the local arcade took his bike to the mountainside and watched the sunset. The two of you had bought little things for one another, like the gold anklet that sat pretty on your ankle and the hello kitty keychain that was currently attached to his bike keys. You even made sure to turn off your location so Takemichi couldn’t see just how often you were having sleepovers at Draken’s place.

You two did the things that couples did together. You two did the things that you saw Takemichi and Hina do on the regular. Dare you even say, you did things with Draken that he and Emma used to do–

Plus, he was fucking you every chance he got.

“Well, maybe you shoulda thought about talkin to me about it first before you go squealing that I’m your boyfriend.” His tone was harsher than he wanted it to be, a tone he usually used with his friends but never really with you. It had you suck in a soft breath, suddenly feeling very exposed curled up in nothing but his bedsheets.

“You don’t have to be so mean–”

“M’not being mean, I’m being realistic. It ain’t cute to just assume I’m your boyfriend when we haven’t talked about anything official.” He was off the bed now, tugging up his boxers. When you didn’t respond he sighed. “We hang out and fuck around, why do we need to be more than–”

When he turned around again to look you in the eye his own voice caught in his throat. Your eyes had gotten wide, a glossy layer of tears hiding the usual beautiful shine your gaze held. Your lower lip was trembling softly, fingers clutching onto the covers so tightly he noticed how your knuckles turned white.

“Hey–”

“M’gunna go.” You interrupted, the crack in your tone only making his heart plummet harder in his chest. As you got to your feet, his blanket securely wrapped around you he grabbed both your shoulders.

“Hey, don’t be like that (Y/N), you don’t even have a ride–”

“Gunna call Michi.” You slipped out of his grasp by tucking yourself out from under his hands, bending to grab at your clothes scattered across the ground.

“Like hell you are. We’re not telling him about us, remember what happened last time?” Draken could still hear the boy's ruthless comments after that first night, the crack of Baji’s fist against his jaw–

“Don’t care, wanna go home.” Your muttering had gotten softer, ready to slip into the bathroom and shut the door right in his face.

“Would you stop being such a brat?” Draken grabbed at your arm this time, tugging it back towards him. He himself hadn’t expected it to be so forceful, the little squeak you released and the falling of tears instantly making him let go of you. You both stared at each other a little shocked, Draken’s breath froze in his throat and his fingertips went a bit cold as you looked at him.

Teary-eyed, shrunken in. Scared. Were you scared of him?

Without a word, you finally went into the bathroom, and it was only then that Draken let out his frustrated breath, cheeks feeling hot as he clenched his fists up at his sides. Fuck, what the fuck was happening right now. He hated this nonsense, hated just how frustrated he felt, hated that look on your face, hated that he couldn’t even really understand what emotions were running through his head.

Why was he mad anyway? Why was any of this really a big deal?

He used his own phone to call you a cab, knowing you wouldn’t actually call Takemichi to pick you up. You had also gotten an ear full after getting caught, and as much as you trusted your brother, the last thing you needed right now was a lecture. You stayed locked in the bathroom until Draken gave the wood a gentle knock with his knuckles.

“Cabs here…” He murmured. You didn’t look at him when you walked out, eyes bloodshot and downcast and when slipped past him fully clothed. He watched from the ledge of his bed, jaw set rigid as you so casually adjusted your bag over your shoulder, now a little overfilled with the stuff you had started to accumulate in his bathroom. Something slipped from your fingertips onto his kitchen counter before you made a beeline for the door, Draken only getting up when it closed firmly behind you.

He approached slowly, that odd feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach seeming to grow, expanding into his chest as he noticed the subtle twinkle on the countertop. It was the anklet he bought you, dainty, gold, shiny, his initials hanging from the small tag.

“Fuck—!“ His emotions boiled over into anger, face red when his fist connected with the drywall. A crack formed in the white fall, his knuckles taking on a deep purple almost instantly as he pulled his clenched fist back to his side. Instead, he let his forehead rest in the dent he just made, thoughts spiralling, making his heart pound in his chest.

Had he really just done that? Made a big deal over nothing? Put his hands on you? And for what?

You called him your boyfriend… was that really… so wrong?

Was he really so set on “not being a sister fucker”, did he really care so much about what the boys thought, what people said about him, that he was willing to let you go?

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed leaned up against the wall like that, thoughts running wildly through his mind, making it pound. Eventually, when his eyes started to get sore, narrowing down in an attempt to hold back unwanted angry tears he moved back to his room to plop himself down into bed. And he didn’t get up for the rest of the evening.

It had been a week.

One whole week since you had left Draken’s apartment, and the two of you had not spoken since. Day three was when Draken caved and texted you, considering you had turned your location off for him so he couldn’t check up on you from time to time.

“Are you okay? Please, we need to talk.”

Radio silence. The message was left unread by you. He even sent another the day after, just a quick message but a little more firm than the last.

“Don’t shut me out like this.”

And still, nothing. It was killing Draken from the inside out. Each day that passed made him more anxious than the last. Were you okay? Did you hate him now? Were you crying to your brother? Draken couldn’t ask Takemichi about you, cause he didn’t even know you two were a thing in the first place. But every time he saw his black-haired friend his heart would stutter, tightening up in his chest.

You laughed just like he did. Were you laughing right now?

Draken had a bad habit of letting things like this consume him. Almost everything seemed to remind him of you or something the two of you had done and it was driving him a little crazy. And all because you had called him your boyfriend.

All because Draken was afraid to commit to someone again despite his need to do so. All of his friends always thought he was so mature, and yet here he was, working through feelings that were staring him right in the face like some teenage boy.

He kept his headphones in at the shop, his body hunched slightly on the stool he set up beside the bike he was currently repairing. The music was loud, drowning out not only the background noise but his thoughts that seem to repeat themselves over and over. His brows were slightly furrowed when he lifted from the busted engine only a moment, just enough to wipe away excess sweat that built up on his brow.

That’s when he caught a glimpse of you. It made his heart pause mid-beat, breath hitching in his throat. He caught the last bits of you as you rounded the corner that led up the stairs, probably in search of Takemichi But that didn’t matter.

Draken found himself scurrying from his seat, the stool skidding from under him as he was quick to follow suit. With long strides, he made it to the stairs and there you were, hand on the railing, one of those cute little skirts he loved hugging your waist just right. He called out to you, twice actually, quickly pulling his headphones from his ears when you actually turned to look at him.

“Hey–”

“I won’t be long.” You simply responded, voice sounding much too sad for Draken’s liking. He noticed how your hand tensed up on the railing when he approached and it made him frown. “I’m just grabbing something for Michi–”

“I wanna talk to you.” He took another step, a tentative one. He hated how your eyes were already getting a little glassy. “Let’s just talk, sweetheart.”

“Don’t wanna talk, Ken.” There was that familiar shake in your tone, the one he had become very aware of. You were just like your brother in so many ways.

His sweet little crybaby.

“C’mere…” He was on the step right in front of you now, the levelling allowing him to lean down just a bit so his face could be close to yours. You took your time meeting his gaze, fingers now fidgeting with the hem of your skirt. “It’s okay baby…”

“You–” He could tell you were trying to gather your bearings, trying so desperately not to crumble and let the tears fall that were already sitting in your lashes. He was patient with you, scared that if he went in too strong you’d just run off from him again. You sucked in a shaky breath before continuing. “You really hurt me, Draken.”

He could have hissed, chest getting a little tight. He hated the way that nickname sounded coming from you.

“I know, I know little love and–”

“Do you not wanna be my boyfriend? I thought you liked me.”

“I do like you–”

“Then be my boyfriend.” It had been a bit more firm than he expected, your brows set and a little pout on your lips after you spoke it. Had things been a little different, he would have told you just how proud he was of you for standing your ground like that.

“It’s not, it's just not that simple.” It was his turn to think his words over, lips catching between his teeth as those doubtful thoughts started returning to him. He was right, wasn’t he? It wasn’t that simple because–

“Why not?” You were being blunt again, words bordering on angry as you sniffled. The first few tears finally fell and Draken wanted nothing more than to wipe them away.

“Well to start, there’s your brother–”

“I don’t care what Michi thinks!” You groaned it out as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I wanna be with you, Ken–”

“But–” He really hated that he couldn’t seem to find the right words.

“What are you so afraid of?”

That really made Draken stop, eyes widening just a bit as he looked back into your teary ones. Your chest was heaving a bit as the silence sat heavily between the two of you. Draken blinked, once, twice, brain reeling over this one simple question.

Draken had been in many fights, grew up in a brothel, seen blood and gore and sex and a lot of things people shouldn’t see. He wasn’t scared any of those times. So, why now? Why was he so scared now as he looked into your eyes that were basically pleading with him for an answer.

“I–” His words were shaky, and finally broke the intense gaze the two of you were sharing as he looked down. “I dunno.”

There was another beat of silence before you continued up the staircase. Draken only looked up when he knew you were at the top, far enough away from him that he didn’t have to feel like your gaze was piercing him. He wished that he didn’t look though, wished that he hadn’t seen that sad smile on your lips.

He never wanted to see that ever again, not on you.

“I hope I’ll still be around when you figure it out.”

Drake wasn’t sure how much time had passed now since he had seen you. The first few days he refused to even think about that interaction on the stairs. That sad smile of yours easily pulls his heart apart and thinking back on it only made him more and more pissed at himself.

So instead of thinking of you, he filled his time with work. He found himself opening and closing the shop, despite Inui trying to make him go back to their balanced schedule. He took on more projects, burying himself under the weight of grease and bolts instead of dealing with the weight that now sat in his chest.

You hadn’t come back to the shop yet either, he had a feeling you’d never come back.

What got Draken out of work early one night was a call from Mitsuya. He called twice before Draken reluctantly picked up the phone, the annoyance clear in his tone as he held the phone to his ear with his shoulder.

“Ya know m’working–”

“Well, you sound just delighted to hear from me~” Mitsuya hummed, chuckling when he heard Draken’s grunt from the other end of the phone. Mitsuya was organising threads by colour when he spoke. “Come over tonight?”

“I don’t feel like partying,” Draken answered back right away. What he meant though was that he didn’t wanna go in case Takemichi was there because then he would only remind him of–

“It’s not gonna be a party doofus, it’ll just be us two.” Draken made a look of disgust, more so at the insult than anything else. “Just come.”

“I have shit to do here–” He was trying his best to get out of this, but if anyone could see through Draken’s bullshit, it was Mitsuya.

“You’ve locked yourself in that damn shop for the past week, I know you can make a little time to go out. Let Inui close tonight.”

“Nah, it’s my night.” It wasn’t.

“Bet you haven’t even showered.”

“Oh fuck off–” Draken grunted, sniffing himself only because Mitsuya wasn’t there to give him the side-eye. He scowled softly to himself when the scent he picked up coming from his overalls was far from pleasant. “Will you quit nagging me if I come, mom?”

“Absolutely buddy.” Mitsuya was chuckling softly, rolling in his chair to pull back up to his sewing table. “See you at 7, doofus.”

Draken wasn’t given the opportunity to snap back with something clever, the phone went dead right away. With a huff Draken resultantly found himself putting his tools away, tucking his overused workbench in its proper corner so he could head off to Mistuya’s.

But not without a shower first.

Draken’s hair was still damp when he headed for Mitsuya’s place. With how fast Draken sped his bike down the freeway, it only took about ten minutes tops. Draken lugged a case of beer with him up to the familiar walkway that belonged to Mitsuya’s townhouse. When he opened the door he still had his work glasses on, a lazy grin tugging on his features when he was met with the sight of Draken’s scowling face.

“Would you look at that, he showered.”

Draken just rolled his eyes, nudging past Mitsuya and making himself at home. The two found themselves quickly situated on the couch, spread out on each end and open beers on coasters. Mitsuya had pulled out his old N64, so the two were currently in a round of Mario kart. The silence had been comfortable between the two, as it usually was until Mitsuay finally decided to speak up.

“So, what's got you fucked up?”

“What?” Draken said with a short laugh, his eyes staying glued to the tv screen.

“You only get all solitary like this when something is really bothering you, so–”

“Nothin’s up, m’good.” Draken simply grunted, which quickly turned into a scowl when Mitusya passed him for first place in the game. “Quit distracting me.”

“Is it Takemichi’s little sister?”

Draken almost choked on his beer, finally looking away from the screen to look at Mitsuya who was still calm as ever. Only after he passed the finish line did he meet Draken’s gaze, one brow lifted up.

“What about her?”

“You were seeing her–”

“I was not.”

Now it was Mitsuya’s turn to laugh, a hearty one too that only made Draken’s brows furrow further. He pulled his glasses from his face, sighing out as he shook his head.

“You think you’re so hard to read, but you’re not.” Mitsuya kept talking before Draken could bark at him. “I know you kept seeing her after that night.”

“Okay, so?” Draken wasn’t sure why he was getting so defensive, maybe it was because it pissed him off that Mitsuya knew him better than he knew himself.

“So, did you two break up?”

“We were never together.” Draken simply stated, going to start another round of Mario kart. But as soon as the words left his lips he hated the way they sounded, and now that they were out there, floating around his head it made him grip his controller a little tighter.

“Oh, you weren’t?” Mitsuya said, that dumb smile of his making Draken shake his head, grit his teeth even. It was Mitsuya’s turn to scoff, tipping his beer back to polish it off. “You are such a fuckin doofus dude.”

“Watch your mouth man–”

“Why are ya doing this to yourself?” Draken sucked in a little breath. The silence hung in the air between them a little and Mitsuya rolled his eyes when he saw how Draken’s head tipped slightly to the side in confusion. He continued as he opened up another beer. “Why aren’t you letting yourself be happy? You can do commitment, you’ve done it before.”

Draken felt a little frozen in place, eyes unfocused as he tried to process what Mitsuya had so obviously laid out for him. His heart started to pick up in his chest as he really thought it over, well at least tried to. “Yea, I did it before and look what happened.”

Flashes of his relationship with Emma were impossible to ignore. How things went from wonderful to terrible so quickly. How the two of them became each other's world so fast for it all to crash and burn. The fighting, the lies, how he was so scared after he lost her but to also lose everyone he loved. His found family was all he had, and if they had decided to up and leave–

“Sure, it was a bad breakup,” Mitsuya spoke with a simple shrug of his shoulders, looking at Draken’s pained face over the lip of his bottle. “But it didn’t stay bad, did it?”

“Guess not…” Draken murmured. It didn’t. He didn’t lose his best friends, he didn’t even really lose Emma. After time apart and some growing up, the two had gone back to speaking terms.

“So, let yourself be happy, dude.”

“But she’s another little sister–”

“Yea you have a type.” Mitsuya couldn’t help but laugh, especially after Draken sent his controller flying at him. Mitsuya thankfully caught it, holding a hand up in defence. “Relax! I’m joking… The boys are gonna bug you about it, but Draken, who the fuck cares.”

Draken slowly nodded at that, allowing himself to really think it all over. He had never been the type to care so much about what others thought about him. He was letting himself get in his head for something that was already over and done with. Rubbing his hand over his forehead, he picked up another beer, shaking his head as he twisted the top off to chug some of it down.

“I hate you, you know that?” He mumbled to Mitsuya, which only made him laugh out loud in response. He clinked his bottle up against Draken’s.

“Love you too buddy. You should really make up with her.” Draken eyed Mitsuya over the lip of his beer. “I assume you said some dumb guy shit to her.”

Draken pouted, mumbling something along the lines of “maybe I did” before he took another drink. Looking down the stem of the bottle Draken sighed softly, thinking of that sad smile on your face. It made him scoff at himself. “I just– I’m not sure I’ll be able to treat her right, as her boyfriend.”

“Well, she’s stuck around this long, hasn’t she?” Mitsuya started to set up another game of Mario Kart for the two of them as Draken nodded slowly. “I’m sure if she didn’t think you’d treat her right, she woulda left.”

Those couple words were left lingering in Draken’s head the rest of the evening. Mitsuya didn’t bring it up again, and Draken didn’t dare to. But as he started to pass out on his friend's couch, he had one too many beers to be driving himself home, he really thought over what Mitsuya had said. What he knew was right.

I’m sure if she didn’t think you'd treat her right, she woulda left.

Draken chuckled softly to himself, his palm coming up to slap him right on the forehead. The sting made him hiss to himself, but it's what he deserved. He’d never admit it out loud, but sometimes he wished his brain worked the way Mitsuya’s did.

“I’m such an idiot.” He spoke, and it was Mitsuya sleepy agreeing with him on the couch beside him that had him laughing all over again.

He knew you’d be finishing classes up on campus right now, had picked you up and dropped you off many times before to know that you’d be coming out of the big college building any minute now. He parked right out front, his hands dug deep into his pockets as he watched the door. His eyes scanned over many faces, all different kinds, all of them filtering through, onyx gaze trying to lock onto–

You.

You were in the middle of giggling, those familiar wrinkles showing up around the corners of your eyes, your pretty manicured nails holding the books you had tighter to your chest. The image made him smile fondly, lips upturned just a little when the two of you finally made eye contact.

He was more than grateful that you returned the small smile. The darkest parts of him had conceived him; you'd simply walk right by him, or even turn around in the opposite direction. But instead, you excused yourself from your friends, who all couldn’t help but side-eye the older, imitating dude leaning on a motorcycle, dragon tattoo on full display with his hair pulled up in a loose ponytail. As you approach he speaks, unable to keep his eyes off your own.

“Hey.”

“Hi, Ken.” Just the way you say his name makes his heart flutter a little. He moves to the side, opening up the small compartment on his bike that’ll allow you to put your books inside.

“Come with me?” He asks, and the momentary silence makes him feel more nervous than he had in a long time. You could say no, he could have taken too long. You could have already slipped right out of his fingertips and it would be all his fault–

“Okay.” You simply reply, and your smile doesn’t falter. It stays as you tuck your books away, as he places his helmet on your bread and helps you adjust the straps. You in front of him on the bike just as you had on that first night he picked you up. His hands easily swallowed yours on the handlebars, and before you knew it the two of you were speeding off towards his place. You knew that because the route had become too familiar after the many times he’d whisked you away after school. Your heart was beating fast in your chest like it normally did when you rode on Draken’s bike. It filled you with a type of adrenaline you hadn’t been able to find anywhere else.

That and the fact that his hands seemed to be holding yours tighter than usual.

After a couple of sharp turns and uphill roads, you two made it to Draken’s apartment. He gave you your space as you two headed to his room a couple of floors up, his heart seeming to be in his throat. He needed to relax, he knew exactly what he had to say to you, knew what he had to do, and yet as he fiddled with his keys a bit to find the right one that opened his apartment, the familiar scent of your perfume was making his brain a little foggy.

It was the warmth of your fingers that shook him from whatever haze he was in, the tips of his ears feeling a bit hot as your fingers easily tugged the right key, helped him slip it into the lock. “It’s this one, Ken.” You say it as if your presence alone isn’t making him weak at the knees.

He just nodded, allowing you in first. Shoes were slipped off and the two of you found yourself in his kitchen. You stood right in the middle, your arms tucked neatly behind your back, hands clasped. He missed the way you used to make yourself at home, grabbing something from his fridge or sprawling out on his couch.

He wanted you to be that comfortable again.

“I really needed to see you.” He started, his voice a little hesitant. He cleared his throat, fingers once again in his pockets. He looked everywhere but at you, despite the way he felt your gentle gaze burning into him. “I needed, I just–” He huffed. “I really fucked up–”

There was your familiar warmth again, but instead, you were grabbing at one of his hands. So easily your fingers threaded into his, and suddenly the weight in his tummy didn’t feel all that heavy as he looked down at you, those wide pretty eyes he had missed so fucking much. “You did kinda fuck up–” You murmur, which makes him huff again, this time with a hint of laughter behind it. “I know I did. I know.”

He pulled you in a little closer, and he was so very grateful that you weren't resistant. In fact, you melted into his chest, your face finding that familiar comfortable spot against his peck, cheek pressed up against where you felt his heartbeat, which was currently pounding in his chest. He sucks in another breath, one hand coming to gently pet your head. “I’m sorry, I’m real sorry sweetheart…” He feels the way you start to tremble and it eats at him, brows furrowing up. “Please, don’t babygirl, m’tryna apologise to you–”

“Don’t be dumb like that ever again Ken.” Your voice waves and he knows you’re about to cry, but he doesn't stop you from speaking, if anything, your shaky words only make him hold you tighter, a fond smile coming to his lips. “Don’t leave me like that again!” Your voice cracks and Ken has to chuckle under his breath, but there's no bite to his laughter, only fondness. “Next time, just talk to me. I-I know I’m younger and inexperienced b-but I know what I want and that's you–”

That's when he finally stops you, one big palm cupping your cheek. He tilts your head up, thumb smoothing over your cheekbone before he's pressing a smooch to your lips. You both seem to relax against the embrace, and when he feels a salty tear hit his thumb he swipes it away, lips parting from your just enough so he can murmur against them.

“I know, lil love. I know.” When your lower lip trembles a bit a smile breaks out on his lips. One that makes the corner of his lips twitch, little wrinkles showing up around his eyes. His hands cup your neck so gently, thumbs pressing up against the underside of your jaw. He murmurs again, this time his words slurred along with your breathy, soft whimper. “I want you too…”

This time the kiss is desperate, needy. Your fingers turn white at the knuckles when you grip at his shirt, lips moulding against his own. Draken’s tongue is impatient, slithering into your open mouth and reexploring the warm cavern that is your mouth. He huffs when your chest presses flush to him, and with ease his big hands cup your thighs, scooping you into his embrace. Your legs cling to his waist without a thought, the giddy giggle bubbling from your lips and against his own making a bit of blush rise on his cheeks.

Oh, how he missed that sweet, sweet sound.

Draken tries not to trip over himself as he carries you off to his bedroom, his back hitting up against the door at the same time your teeth playfully tug at his bottom lip. He drops you down and the bounce of your body has both of you a little too excited, Draken’s shirt easily coming off as he tugs it up over his head.

“Lemme show you how badly I want you, baby.” His voice has already gotten deeper, and as his big hand comes to cup the back of your neck to pull you in for another kiss he’s a bit surprised when both your palms press against his chest, pushing him away an inch.

Surprised and panicked. Was he moving too fast, did you think he was just using you in your vulnerable moment? Had he really fucked up so soon again–

His breath left him in a huff when his back hit the mattress, your body rolling over him. He blinked a few times as you straddled him, palms pressed against his chest and your face heated. He could tell that a flush was working its way up to your cheeks when you looked down at him, your body slowly scooting down from his waist to his hips.

“No, let me s-show you.” Despite just how nervous you were, Draken could tell by the way you chewed on your lower lip, how your fingers trembled a little, undoing his belt and zipper, his cock still twitched with excitement underneath you an odd sense of pride flowing through him.

You had come a long way, from the virgin he met all those months ago. He had just been the biggest idiot and here he was, pushing his hair from his face so he could watch how your pretty little hands handled his semi-hard cock with such care. How you looked at him first, batted your lashes when you leaned in and pressed the sweetest of kisses right to his tip.

“Oh fuck—“

Yea, he was never letting you go again, ever.

You took a deep breath through your nose before taking his tip between your lips, your eyes never leaving his dilated ones. He propped himself up on an elbow, free hand easing the hair away from your face. It was a sight that would be burned into his mind forever. Wide doe eyes, hand barely wrapped around his fat base, pretty lips suckling away at his tip.

“You’re gonna be the fuckin death of me pretty girl.” Draken chuckles breathlessly, and the little glint in your eyes tells him you would have smiled had your lips not been preoccupied. He kept his hand gentle on the back of your head as you slowly took more of him, your tongue flattening out against his underside. His head tilted back in a groan at your steady pace, the warmth of your mouth making his skin prickle with pleasure. His fingers curled in your hair just a bit, enough to hold him back from jerking his hips into you, make you gag–

He’d save it for another time.

“Atta girl…” He murmured, chest rising and falling a little faster as you gained your rhythm. Your eyes peaked up at him again, before you got back into it, cheeks hollowing as you took as much of him into your mouth as possible. You reached about halfway, which Draken noticed made your brows furrow up.

“S’okay, we’ve got plenty of time to make it fit, keep going lil love.” He encouraged, and you listened, head continuing to bob faster, sloppier. Draken could feel your drool dribbling down his shaft and onto his balls and it made him shiver. It didn’t help that your ass was up high, practically swaying like an excited little puppy just to be sucking him off. Swearing under his breath a moment as his balls suddenly felt all too tight, he pulled you off his cock, the pornographic pop of your lips making him grunt, you whine. The string of drool connecting your swollen lips to his cock was thick, and when it snapped onto your chin Draken could feel himself getting lightheaded.

“W-Why did you–” He silenced your whining with another fierce kiss, and without hesitation you were manhandled back into his pillows, flat on your back. He has no problem working your soiled panties off your thighs, deciding to just tuck the extra material of your skirt into the waistband “Felt fucking awesome.” Your panties are tossed right over your shoulder, a cute yelp leaving you when he hauls both your thighs up, over his shoulders. “But I wanna cum in this pretty pussy.”

From this position your pussy was split wide open for him, your clit poking out and throbbing from under the hood. He sighed, content, pausing his previous actions to lean in, pressing the softest of kisses right up against your clit.

“My pretty pussy.” His soft touch is gone, replaced with his burning desire to claim you again. A few rubs of his cock against your slicken folds, along with your drool is enough to get his cock wet enough to slip in. His breathing hitches once his head makes it past the tight ring of your muscles, the squeeze vice-like just from the simple intrusion.

“K-Ken–”

“Shh, I know.” He coos, hunching over you. With your thighs on his shoulders, his shifting has you in a mating press, a position that all too knew and is making your head spin. Your tummy folds the closer he gets to you, the pad of his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your clit while the other intertwines with the hand you had gripping the sheets close to your head. “S’always gonna be a lil tight, isn’t it babygirl.”

You’re already moaning in a wonton fashion, eyes struggling to stay open as he rocks his cock head in and out, his thumb working at your nub. When your pussy starts fluttering for him he works in a few more inches, needy sounds spilling into each other mouth due to his lips staying inches away from your own. “Gonna take it all f’me? Be my good girl?”

You nod, and when you look at him again your eyes have that familiar glassy sheen he’s grown to love. He kisses you right under the eye before with one good push his cock is all the way inside. The sound you make is downright sinful, something between a cry and a mewl and it has Draken’s cock twitching within the tightness of your cunt. It makes his vision go a little stary, the growl he releases vibrating through his chest.

“Good fucking girl.” The slap of his hips into your ass resounds throughout the room, squelching soon coming from between your bodies. In this position his cock nuzzles your sweet spot, seeming to reach down deep, into parts of you that you didn’t even realise existed, and it quickly has you falling apart, babbles freely spilling from your lips, tears wetting your hot cheeks. Draken is quick to kiss them away, his fingers tightening around yours as he puffs hot pants along your face.

“D-Deep~!” You manage to squeak, and Draken has to crack a grin, his hips suddenly stopping their brutal pace just so he can roll them instead. That had you gasping, drool spilling from your hung lips as you look up at him with a gaze that's already beyond fucked out. “S’real deep baby, s’good though yea?”

You nod, fresh tears on your lashes. “Only the best for my baby.” He utters, hips switching back and forth between rutting and grinding. He’s convinced you’ve already cum on his cock, the amount of slick bubbling around his shaft and the tightness of your walls are his hints, but he keeps going, needing to fill you up after so long. Despite your cries, he brings his hand back to your clit, his rubs becoming sloppy. He only releases your hand to cup the back of your neck instead, keeping your foreheads pressed together.

“Eyes on me, lil love.” You do manage to open your teary eyes, meeting his dilated pupils. “Good, good girl.” His body starts to twitch, broad shoulders rippling and his thighs starting to tremble as his own release quickly builds in his gut. “I– fuck. Baby, I love you, pretty–”

And despite just how dumbed out you were moments before, those words seem to bring some clarity to your eyes. Your fingers tangle into his sweaty hair, gripping it at the roots for your sanity. The pleasant little laugh you let out and breathe against his lips makes his heart jump against his ribcage.

“I love y-you Ken, love you so much, Kenny–”

His climax hits him hard, the full-body chill he experiences making goosebumps rise along his spine as he fills you up. The feeling of his warm, thick cum is enough to have you coming undone right along with him, the sensation being yet another new one when liquid seems to gush past your little hole. It makes Draken’s balls tighten up instantly, the warm splash of your arousal onto his fingers that still gently coax pleasure out of your clit. And he can’t help but grin, a boyish grin that quickly turns into a grunt. “Fuck, fuckin squirtin on me, how cute.”

He doesn’t pull out, he can’t. He needs to be close to you, keep your limp body tucked carefully underneath him. You’re too far in to even notice the mess, your whines and whimpers dwindling down into soft breaths as he turns to his side, keeping you in his chest. His cock slowly softens in your walls, and even then, Draken’s keeps you glued to him as you both come down, tremors and pants still coming over both of you.

“Sweetheart.” He murmurs, face nuzzling up against your temple. When he gets a whine in return he holds you closer, careful to ease your face away from his chest so he can cover your tear-streaked face in kisses. “You’re okay, my baby…”

Draken is usually more responsible than this. Then to let you two doze off without a proper clean-up. But feeling your soft heartbeat against his, your fingers still lost in his hair, your lips pressed right up into the crook of his neck and puffing soft air, he just couldn't bring himself to let go. He didn’t want to let go now, or ever. Keeping you here, wrapped in his embrace, he was certain that you’d be there tomorrow morning too, with that beautiful smile he had fallen stupidly, hopelessly, in love with.

Fuck it. He was taking on the little sister fucker title with pride.

“Kenny, your hand is sweaty.” You murmur, trying to hold back your laughter when he shoots you a glare, pulling his hand away from you and dramatically rubbing it along his jeans.

“Fine, just won’t hold your hand, brat” He grumbles, and that sets you over, wrapping your arms around him mid-walk to press small kisses along his collar bones.

Draken hadn’t felt this nervous ever, in his entire life (this was a lie, he’s just dramatic as ever). The two of you were only steps away from your place, the same place you and Takemichi lived in together. Everyone was there, the entire found family, and you two were now official…

He was getting flashbacks of the group chat, his friend's ruthless behaviour, the way Takemichi hadn’t talked to him for one whole week, and the sweet satisfaction Baji got when he got one free punch to his jaw for Takemichi’s sake.

“Maybe we can tell them next week, or over a call. Whattya think lil love,” Draken murmured, his face hiding in your hairline. Your sweet laughter sent that familiar warmth through his chest, and one good tug on his hand had him reluctantly walking back towards the house. “You’ll be fine.” You say with a smile, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. “We’re gonna do it together.”

When you hopped up onto the front step, Draken’s eyes trailed down to the sweet dangling sound that was the anklet looped around your ankle. The gold one, with his initials, right where it belonged. The sight had him calming a little, brows furrowed in the way they usually did when he became focused. “Right, together.”

“Michi-nii!” You call out once the two of you enter the house, the sound of music and chatter already filling the front entrance. Draken holds your hand a little tighter as if he had been entering a place he’d never been before.

“Living room!” Takemichi calls out, surrounded by founding members of toman, each huddled around the kotatsu table that was covered in snacks, beers, and cards. Oddly enough the chatter died down as Takemichi was dealing out for another round, a laugh leaving his lips.

“You guys gonna take this round seriously–” It was Mikey’s elbow into his ribs that silenced him, a little puff escaping his lungs. He was about to complain when his eyes were brought to what everyone seemed to be staring at.

And that was you, beaming smile and all, with your hand held tightly by Draken’s, who couldn't seem to make eye contact with anyone.

“Hi Michi~ Hi everyone! What are ya–”

“Finally.” Mitsuya was the first to mutter, leaning back further into his spot on the couch. “Chifuyu, you owe me 20 bucks, told you they’d come out today.”

“No fair!” Chifuyu blurted out, grumbling when he reluctantly pulled bills from his pocket. Pah and Peh were the first to start laughing, clinking their beers together.”

“Wait, you knew? How?” Mikey questioned Mitsuya, who triumphantly took the money from Chifuyu with a laugh of his own. Kazutora was even starting to crack up, hiding his smirk behind his beer.

And despite all the commotion, Takemichi sat dumbfounded, eyes glued to yours and Draken’s intertwined hands. When he did finally speak, it only made the group that much rowdier.

“Well, what the fuck is this–”

“Time for another punch,” Baji said with that signature grin of his, basically hoping from his spot on the couch.

“Wait wait!” You said, your pout only stirring the pot further. “No one is punching anyone! We’re–”

“We are dating,” Draken said, eyes a bit narrowed as he spoke. “We’re dating, Takemichi, I wanna date your sister, and I’m gonna.”

There was another round of silence in the room, but it didn’t last, not when Pah mumbled under his breath.

“Classic sister fucker–”

“Well, you could have at least asked first?!” Takemichi was dramatic as ever, tears swelling up in his eyes at the thought of his precious little sister being tarnished by the big, mean, scary man that was Draken. He let go of your hand then, being just as dramatic as Takemichi if not more so “I did ask, I just asked in front of everyone.”

“But you’re already dating, have been a while no…?” Classic Mitsuya, stirring the pot and making everyone act up yet again.

“Now why would you say that you ass–”

“C’mon Michi, I’ll punch him again for you, one good punch like last time–” Baji was punching at the air for emphasis.

“Sister fucker behaviour,” Peh said with a shake of his head, only making Pah laugh harder.

And amidst the bickering and nonsense that always seemed to break out between the boys, you took a seat next to Mikey, taking the Taiyaki he had to offer you with a little huff. He noticed the anklet, observant as ever as you rolled your eyes when Takemichi actually started crying, something about you losing your innocence.

“He’ll treat you right.” You looked at Mikey, who spared you a small smile and a pat on the head. “Draken–”

“I know!” You responded happily, eyeing him as he held Baji back, the nerves he was feeling earlier long gone. You took a bite of the Taiyaki and giggled.

“I can’t wait to be with him, forever!”

property of kenslilove, do not copy, repost, translate, or move onto any other platform!!

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yapperblog · 4 months ago

Text

Thought you'd hate me

but instead you called and said I miss you

Tags: unresolved feelings, a little big of angst, she fell first but he fell harder, smut +18 only, softdom!joost, fem!reader, fingering, riding, unprotected PinV.

RPF below don't interact if you are not comfortable with that

You sigh as you find yourself in front of his door. Again. In the message he sent at 3:15 AM he told you the door will be open, but you still ring the doorbell. After no one opens it, you feel a slight nervous shiver down your spine. You decide to leave the dilemma of your weak morals for tomorrow, you are already here, might as well see where the night leads you. You reach for the handle and open it.

"Hello?" you say as you enter his apartment.

You turn to twist the lock on the door, a familiar smell envelops you. Not much has changed since the last time you've been here. More often you have been rushed past his front door, already tangled in a kiss, tearing at each others clothes. This time you weirdly want to look around and take it all in, you are still not sure if this is the last time you walk past his doorstep, but you want to remember it.

You and Joost have a messy history. It all started so simple, you met through a mutual friend and found out you two have a lot in common. As soon as you started talking, you knew something special could brew from this. It was so easy to be next to him, every bit of attention from him was intoxicating.

You also found out you live a walking distance from each other, which led to you two hanging out more often outside of the friend group. After one drunk night out, just the two of you, one thing led to another and you ended up on his lap, hands wrapped in each other's hair, having the best sex of your life. Your relationship turned into friends with benefits, never crossing into anything more even after a year. You did everything a couple would do together, but never put a label on it. Due to him traveling a lot and focusing on music, you felt he didn't want a serious relationship, so when he asked what you thought about dating, you just brushed it off, not wanting to be a burden to him.

You did this often. You were so overprotective of your feelings, you wouldn't let anyone near, in case they hurt you emotionally, which from your past experiences - they usually did. So you learnt to end things before you get too attached. You knew it was too late, he was the best partner you've had. So thoughtful, caring, funny, incredible sex, but you could just not open up to him the same way he did to you. It hurt, but gradually you made an effort to see him less, you would decline his invitations to hang out, until one day you just simply ignored his message to come over.

Until today, when you saw him again at a friend's birthday party. You knew he got back from tour already and would be at that party. You were nervous to see him again, but to skip it would be even worse. You immediately spotted him, even in a room full of people, somehow you could always tell where he was, your eyes just gravitated towards him. When eventually, after mingling with different people, you ended up in the same circle, he made it seem so easy to see you again, like it was no big deal. You felt a sting of pain, but you couldn't be upset, you were the one to push him away. So, you came to a conclusion that you made the right decision, if it is so easy for him to move on, it is better this way. You stayed until the end of the party, everyone got pretty drunk, your heart still felt heavy knowing he is close, but at the same time so far away, and it was all your fault for pushing away the one good thing you had.

You got back home around 3 AM. You were ready for bed, until you got a notification. You checked your phone and saw it was a text from Joost.

"Come in." his voice brings you back to your current situation. You notice a warm glow from the nightstand lamp coming from around the corner, where his bedroom is.

Your legs start walking as if by themselves, you don't remember making that decision. His voice just draws you in.

You stop by the doorframe, leaning against it. You take in the sight of him. Only one nightstand lamp is turned on, you remember your shared hatred of overhead big light. He is laying on the bed, his legs swaying off the side of it. His jeans are halfway unzipped, low on his hips, the belt undone and shirt half unbuttoned, like he couldn't decide what to take off first and gave up on both. He must be as drunk as you are now, he should look like a mess, but he doesn't. He always managed to look clean, one of the many things you liked about him. He turns his head to look at you and you notice a cigarette hanging from his lips.

He got into a bad habit of smoking in bed, you used to joke he would end up living in one of those houses that have yellow walls from the constant smoking.

"You should start locking your door." you say, your arms crossed, leaning against the door frame. You want to look nonchalant, like your heart isn't trying to get out of your chest.

"I don't usually leave it open." he says, his voice raspy, like it usually got when he was drunk. "Only on special occasions." he puts one hand behind his head not to crane his neck to see you better.

"Have a lot of special occasions?" you ask. You do wonder if he was with anyone in the time you haven't seen each other.

He huffs in amusement and turns to look at the ceiling. You think he looks so pretty, just laying there.

"Come here." his voice barely above a whisper, but he knows you will hear. You always do, sometimes he thinks you can hear his thoughts, his deepest secrets.

You don't move from your place, your hands crossing tighter on your chest. The distance you want to keep breaks his heart, he needs to stop this feeling and distract himself. He reaches for the lighter in the pocket of his jeans.

"Joost, open the window at least." you say softly before he lights the cigarette. It is not your place to tell him what to do, but you still care.

He smiles and remembers your joke about the yellow walls. Always so quick with a funny remark. He misses it. He sits down on the bed, his movements slow. He zips up his pants and puts the belt back on, his hands fumbling trying to put it through the loops. With his shirt still half unbuttoned, he stands up and walks past you, around the bed and heads towards the window. There is a chair next to it already, you notice a sketchbook you got him on the windowsill by an ashtray. You never saw this little routine of his, you imagine him drawing next to an open window, a cigarette in his hand. You want to flip through it.

He sits on the chair, lighting a cigarette. "Will you come in now?"

You finally walk in and head towards the bed. You prop yourself against the bedframe. His bed is as comfortable as you remember, you even bought the same duvet and pillow set he has, but you swear it still doesn't feel as good his. Maybe you expected it to come with that familiar aftershave smell, which of course it didn't.

"What did you want to talk about?" you break the silence.

"Us." he says quickly. Always honest and straight to the point.

"What about us?" your eyes focus on him. His legs are crossed, a light breeze coming from the window tussling his hair.

"You have been ignoring me and I want to know why. I really don't understand what I did wrong."

"I told you we should have ended this a long time ago." you did tell him this in the last time message you sent him. But he wasn't going to accept that, so he walked to your apartment, when you opened the door, you could barely even look at him. Very abruptly you told him you need to stop seeing each other, it's not healthy for the both of you. He was so confused at the sudden change, he couldn't even come up with anything to say in defence. He thought you must have met someone else, you haven't promised each other anything, but he felt betrayed. So he turned around and left.

"Why did you come then?" he asks, looking at you intensely.

"I knew you were drunk after the party and would pass out on the bed, I didn't want you to sleep with the front door open." you come up with an excuse. He has always been like an open book with you, however you are now doubting yourself if you've read him correctly. It was you who was scared of the relationship and deeper feelings, not him. You realise the huge mistake you made all those months ago.

"You know..." he takes another drag of the cigarette. "I really used to think I had you figured out. And then you pulled that surprise on me. Really took me for a spin." he points to his head with the hand that has a cigarette in between his two fingers.

"Have to keep you on your toes, you know. You always said you wouldn't like the simple life." you try to joke. The room is silent for a second, you are worried, did you overstep, will he find it inappropriate. But he laughs with his whole chest, the tension resolving a little bit. If you can joke about it, he feels he still has a chance to fix things out between you.

"So why did you come?" his voice more relaxed now.

You both know the answer, he wants to hear you say it, but you are willing to drag this game a little longer. "You've got a great view from your apartment. I missed it."

He laughs again. You realise it might be your favorite sound in the world. He blows the smoke out of the window, then turns to look back at you. "You missed the view?"

"Yeah." you try to keep a straight face.

"It is a nice view." he looks out of the window. "I don't think you see it well from the bed though." he puts a cigarette in between his lips. "You should come closer to enjoy it." he beckons you closer with his hand. He tries to act cool, to hide the fact that you also still make him nervous, like it's the first time you met and he is trying so hard to win you over, to see you smile at something he said.

You stand up from the bed, and slowly make your way towards the window, you cross your arms to shield yourself from the breeze and lean in against the windowsill admiring the view. You can faintly see your own window from here, you wonder if he ever tried to see you. You can feel him next to you even without looking at him, your legs almost touching. You can almost feel the heat radiating from him, always so warm, even on coldest nights. You miss the feeling of him under your hands.

Slowly as if careful not scare you away, like a cat, he stands up and comes to stand next to you. Neither of you speak for a while, enjoying a silent night, it feels so natural to be next to each other. The months apart and previous tension slowly melting away. He notices you shiver.

He stubs out the cigarette in an ashtray and stands up to reach for a hoodie hanging on the back of the chair. "Here, put this on."

You turn to face him and he puts the hoodie around your shoulders. His hands brushing your exposed shoulders and arms in the process. A sigh leaves you, which he catches.

"Better?" he asks.

"I think this is the first time you put more clothes on me in this room and not the other way around." you joke.

"You are probably right." he laughs and you feel him physically relax. Humour has always been a common ground for the both of you to get more comfortable.

"I missed this." he confesses, his voice quiet. "I missed us." he reaches to put a strand of your hair behind your ear. As soon as he touches you, he studies your face, trying to see if it's okay.

You touch his hand. "I miss it too." you say and turn to look outside of the window again, you feel so stupid for the way you handled things. He moves to stand behind you, slowly wraps him arms around your waist, giving you space to retreat if you want. You don't. It feels so good to have him close again. You lean into his touch. He puts his head on your shoulder, next to your face.

"How did it take us so long to find each other again?" he asks, happy you didn't deny his embrace.

"I'm sorry" you say and you mean it with your whole heart.

He moves to sit back down on the chair and you turn to look at him. "So, is the view everything you remembered?" he says with a smirk.

"It might have become even better." you say and walk up to him, he spreads his legs to let you in even closer.

He looks up at you, his eyes are so blue even in the dim light. You place your arms on his shoulders. He hugs you around your middle, and puts his face on your stomach. You slowly brush his hair, enjoying the closeness of him.

"Have you been with anyone?" he asks, afraid to hear the answer.

You tried, you had a date planned with this guy you met at work, but you didn't end up going. It didn't feel right.

"No." you say honestly. "Have you?"

He is still holding you close to him, "I kissed someone." he says.

You shut your eyes. Your confidence slightly falling apart, the self-doubt creeping back in, he can move on and eventually will.

He feels you go solid under his arms and continues "But all I could think was you. It was not long after you broke things off with me. I was mad at you, I kept looking for things to distract myself with. I was mad that you wouldn't leave my head. Mad at the light I could see coming from your window" he looks up at you, his hands on your hips. "So I kissed this girl, who seemed interested in me, and all I could taste was you."

You look into his eyes, he looks so vulnerable like this, all you wish for is to go back in time and change everything, but you can't. You wait for him to continue.

A small laugh escapes him. "I ran away from her. I ran all the way home. It's embarrassing, I never figured out how to forget you." he hides his face into your stomach again, you smell just like he remembers. If he could freeze time and stay like this forever, you running your hands through his hair and so close to him, he would.

"Joost" you let out a breath you were holding. "You don't understand how sorry I am. The amount of pain I caused both us" you voice breaks and he looks up at you. "I don't know how I can ever fix this mistake I made."

"Baby." his hands on your hips move in soothing motions. "Come here" he says and this time you do, he moves you to sit on his thigh, your legs stay in between his.

Your face is right next to his, you can't stop looking at him. His stubble has grew in a little. You put your hand on the side of his face, he immediately leans into it, chasing your touch. All the walls you both tried to put up, crumbling completely. You close the distance between you, your lips moving against his, he wraps his arms around your waist, your chest now closer to his. One of your hands is holding his shoulder, the other is on the nape of his neck. He licks your bottom lip, asking you to open your mouth, you do and his tongue explores your mouth. He missed you in his arms so much, now he can't get enough, he can still taste the cocktail he saw you drink at the party. You feel him groan into your mouth as you pull at his hair, remembering how much he likes it.

You pull apart to catch your breath. You smile and wipe his lips, shiny with your lip gloss, it makes you throb between your legs, that it is your gloss on his lips. You close your legs looking for at least a slight friction, he moves his hand to your thigh, squeezing the soft skin, which startles a moan from you. It makes him twitch in his pants, you sound so much better than the scenarios he kept replaying in his head late at night, his hand moving in a fast pace under the covers, wrapped tightly around his dick, trying to imitate the tight squeeze of your pussy around him.

He moves his hand under your knee, moving you to sit on his lap your back to his chest. He spreads his legs, moving yours apart too.

"I want you." he feels so warm against your back, you can feel an outline of his hardening dick through his jeans pocking at your lower back.

"You have me." he says leaning closer to your ear. He stays close and leans into your hair, kissing softly. You swear you can feel him sniff your hair and moan quietly. This is not the first time you notice him doing it, he denied it the one time you asked him about it, but it turns you on even more. He leans in to kiss your shoulder, placing open mouth kisses to your neck. He bites gently on your skin, you hold his bicep by your side. You need something to ground yourself or you feel like you will float away, his mouth feels so good on you. His hands move from your thighs under your top.

"Is this okay?" he asks, you feel his hot breath on your shoulder.

"Yes." you reply. He smiles and places another kiss, his hands continuing to move under your top caressing your skin. He hasn't done anything yet, but you already feel how aroused you are, your panties sticking to you. His heavy breathing so close to you, only making you even more hot. The open window next to you is of no help. You feel him everywhere, but also want to speed things up.

"Touch me, please." you plead. Your needy voice feels like music to his ears.

"A little bit of patience." his hands move to cup you through your lacy bra. He massages your tits, feeling your nipples harden, you moan and cover your mouth with your hand. "So sensitive." he murmurs. He wants to watch you unravel for him just by touching your nipples, but decides to stash this idea for another time. He hopes there will be another. He moves your bra down to reveal you fully to him and continues his ministrations twisting and pinching your nipples, squeezing your soft skin, until you are writhing on top of him. Your ass moving right against his now fully hard dick, but he can wait.

"Let me hear you." he moves your hand away, which was covering your mouth.

"But the window" your voice is weak.

"Everyone else can also know how good I am making you feel." his hands move to the plush of your thighs, makes sure to push them apart. "Keep them like this, love" he tells and you nod. He pushes your skirt up, moving his hands higher up your inner thighs, your head falls on his shoulder while you let out a soft moan. There is already a wet pre-cum spot forming in his boxers from all the sounds he is pulling from you.

He swipes a finger in between your folds through your panties. "So wet." he says quietly, sitting up straighter, pulling you up with him by wrapping a hand around your middle. He moved his neck to see his hand in between your legs better. He spreads his legs even further, your hips are so wide apart, you feel a breeze touch your wetness, as he moves your panties to the side.

"Were you this excited to see the view?" he says feeling how wet you are. You can't even come up with anything to joke back as he finds your clit and starts moving his finger in slow circles around it, applying slight pressure.

You moan holding his wrist, your head still resting on his shoulder.

"Feels good?" he asks, you can hear him smiling.

"So good." you say and he speeds up his finger pulling even more delicious sounds from you. He wonders if anyone can actually hear you, would the neighbours complain, but decides it is worth it seeing that you don't mind. His finger moves lower through your folds, collecting the wetness as he circles around your hole. He feels it clench around nothing and you whine at his teasing.

"Shh, I've got you." he puts one finger inside of you. You feel so tight around him, he puts in a second finger and starts to make scissoring motions to stretch you for him.

You start to feel the pleasure building, moving to hold his bicep for support. You turn your neck to the side trying to find his lips. He lowers his head towards yours and you collide in a heated kiss. He puts in a third finger in and speeds up his motions, swallowing your moans.

"I'm so close." you turn to look at his fingers disappearing between your legs reaching deeper than yours ever could. Your skirt bunched up, legs spread wide, his hand that is wrapped around your middle is now applying pressure to your lower stomach, you must look a mess, but this is the most beautiful sight to him. His brows are in a frown, focused on a task at hand, so lost in bringing you pleasure.

"Cum for me. Cum on my fingers" he says and you feel the band snap and release on his fingers. Intense pleasure spreading all over your body. Your back arches, as he lets you ride your orgasm.

He pulls out his fingers, shiny with your slick and brings them to his mouth, licking it clean. You hear him groan, as you are still feeling aftershocks from your orgasm. It has been so long, you forgot how good he is at listening to your body, knowing exactly what you need.

He kisses your temple, as his lips slowly reach yours. The kiss is not rushed this time, tender. His lips feel soft against yours. You leave his tight embrace to stand up. Standing in front of him you take off your top, as well as your bra, which is still pulled down, revealing your chest to him and kneel in between his legs. You slide your hands up his thighs, feeling his muscles tense under your touch and reach for his belt. You quickly undo it, unzip his jeans while looking into his eyes, he is watching your every move. You reach to take off his jeans, he lifts his hips to help you and kicks them off, leaving them in a pile next to your top.

"Take off this too." he points at your skirt as he reaches for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter on the windowsill. You stand in front of him, placing your hands on the zipper of your skirt and pull it down slowly, making a show of shimmying it down your legs. Your panties are next. His eyes never leave you as he sits with his legs spread only in his half unbuttoned shirt and boxers, he lights the cigarette and takes a drag blowing smoke away from you towards the window.

"So beautiful." he can't stop looking at you.

Meanwhile you are thinking the same about him. You want to take a photo right now. He is leaned against the back of the chair, you can see an outline of his hard and waiting dick, the collar of his shirt reveals his chest hair. He brings a cigarette to his lips, the end of it glowing as he takes a long drag. You want to remember this forever.

You come closer to him, he leaves the cigarette hanging between his lips, as he puts both of his hands on the backs of your thighs and brings you flush against him and looks up at you. You can't help but giggle at how good he looks and all for you. You start to unbutton his shirt, slipping it off his shoulders. Once again you kneel in between his legs, your hands reach the waistband of his underwear and you look up at him for confirmation. He nods and you take them off, his dick springs up free and rests against his lower stomach, leaving a wet spot of his own pre-cum. He looks like a dream come true.

"Show me how much you've missed me" he says, his voice raspy from the cigarette and his arousal.

You move to straddle him. You take his dick into your hand, he sighs at your touch immediately. He needs this he needs to know you want him as much as he wants you. You spread his pre-cum around his length, moving your hand slowly up and down, twisting your wrist on his head, moving your thumb through the slit. He groans loudly. "Yes, just like this." You always loved how vocal he is during intimate moments. One of his hands is holding a cigarette, the other is on your hip, holding tight. You lean in to kiss along his jaw moving down to his neck, listening to his soft moans, as you keep touching his dick. You continue kissing his neck, he feels you start to suck on his skin about to leave a love bite, but you stop abruptly.

"Can I?" you ask unsure if he would want you to leave marks. You both know each others bodies so well, but this feels new at the same time.

"Please do." his head falls back, giving you more space. You lick up his throat and leave a few marks along your kisses. You smile at your work, this will be a fun reminder in the morning.

You decide not to tease him any longer, you want to feel him inside right this second. You lift yourself up using his shoulders for support, he is holding a cigarrete in one hand, and puts the other under your ass spreading your folds apart, helping you lower yourself onto him. You hold his dick and hover above him, swiping the head a couple of time to cover him in your slick. You are still wet from your previous climax, so it's easier to take him in. You both let out a moan as you start to lower yourself onto him, your walls stretching to accommodate his length.

"You are so tight." he puts a cigarette in between his lips and starts to circle your clit carefully aware of your recent climax, not to overstimulate you. "Relax for me baby." the words coming out funny due to the cigarette hanging from his mouth. You take the cigarette and take a drag yourself. You inhale, keep it in for a while and then blow the smoke in his face slowly. He watches you and you can feel him twitch inside of you.

You pass the cigarette back to him, when he is fully inside of you. You start to lift yourself up and lower back down, setting a steady rhythm, trying to bring him as much pleasure as you can.

His pupils are blown wide, the blue irises barely visible, he is so hard, he could cum right now. But he wants this to last. One of his hands leaves your hips, he leans on the back of the chair and smokes, enjoying the view. Your head is thrown back, eyes shut, tits bouncing, you reach to pinch your nipple and clench around him. He thinks you look so good right now, lost in pleasure, this is what heaven must feel like. He can't ever loose you again.

"Good girl. Making me feel so good." he praises you and feels you clench even harder, as you continue moaning and moving on his length. He moves his gaze from your face, down your body and watches himself disappear between your folds, a mix of your arousal pooling at the base of him.

"I'm so close, Joost." you whine bouncing on him.

He wraps a hand around your back and reaches to put the cigarette out in the ashtray. Now both his hands free, he takes hold of your hips to help you move on him. He starts kissing your neck, and matches your moves with his own thrusts.

You feel him so deep inside of you, you scream in pleasure, as he starts to move you faster on him, holding you by your hips.

"Fuck. You feel so good." he is breathing heavy against your chest, his own climax getting closer. He brings his thumb up to your lips, you open your mouth and suck on his finger. "The things you do to me" he sighs at the picture before him. He hopes he remembers this forever. You swipe your tongue around his finger and he pulls it out, wet with your spit bringing it to your clit and starts to draw fast circles.

He leans in to whisper to you. "I think you were made for me." Somehow he always knew what to say to make you melt under him. It's like he knows exactly what you are worried about in that exact moment.

Your back arches, he puts an arm on your back to hold you. He feels you clench around him rapidly and with a loud moan you cum on him.

"That's it. That's my girl." his own rhythm becoming more sporadic. "Just a little longer. I'm right there." he starts to chase his own release.

"Where do you want me?" he asks feeling himself getting closer.

"Inside." you feel overstimulated, but still it feels so good. "Please." your nails on his shoulders are bound to leave red marks from how hard you are holding on to him.

After a few more wild thrusts, he pulls you flush against him and you feel him release into you. Some of his cum spilling out of you. You put your forehead against his, breathing heavily into each other's mouths, trying to come back to your senses.

He holds you close to him. "I'm glad you read my text today."

"Me too. And I really am sorry, Joost. I hope you can forgive me."

"Let's talk in the morning. We will figure everything out, yes?" he asks bringing your face closer to him, to look into your eyes.

"Yes."

"Can you stay over tonight? or do you want me to walk you home?" he asks.

"I don't think I can walk right now, Joost" you laugh.

"That was incredible, wasn't it?" he laughs too.

You start to stand up with a wince when he pulls out. He cleans you up and you fall asleep on his bed. The pillow still more comfortable than your own. You will try to figure your feelings for each other in the morning.

#joost klein #joost klein smut #joost klein rpf #joost klein x reader #yapperwrites

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gurugirl · 10 months ago

Text

The Ranch Hand | cowboy!harry - Patreon One Shot

2.5k word preview below the cut

Your boyfriend, Jessie, sat down a bucket of beer on the table you were sitting at and pulled his stool up as you grabbed a cold one for yourself and twisted the cap off.

You didn’t know the band that was playing but they sounded pretty good, especially for a Friday night with a cold beer in your favorite little rowdy country bar.

Jessie hated the bar. He was more into cocktail joints with white tablecloths and live classical piano. The kind of place you had to dress up to go into. You didn’t blame him. He didn’t come from where you came from. You two had only a couple of things in common.

The first was that you were both from wealthy families. Your dad was a rancher and he owned half the county. You’d never hurt for anything. Jessie’s family ran the county and were all involved in politics. He went to some fancy school in a different state and only came back because his father wanted him to step into the role of prosecuting attorney.

The second thing you had in common was that you lived in the same town.

That was probably where your similarities ended. You liked Jessie. Mostly. He was usually pretty nice, if not boring, and your parents liked him so that was a plus. In fact, they set up your first date with him and it was easier to just keep things going to make your mom and dad happy.

“You look uncomfortable,” you spoke as you kept your eyes on the band and Jessie struggled to pull the metal cap from his bottle.

“I’m just… there’s peanut shells all over the floor and everyone’s staring at us.”

You laughed and shook your head. You were gonna have to break up with the guy. He couldn’t handle you and you knew that was the truth. He hated getting his hands dirty and even though he looked like he should be able to remove a bottle cap, it wasn’t the first time you had to do it for him.

Taking his beer you looked directly at him and twisted the cap off, dropping it to the floor before handing it back to him.

“I never drink beer. Not used to taking caps off…” he spoke as he took a sip. Shitty excuse.

You noticed that some of the workers from your dad’s ranch were in the bar. Probably causing trouble. The guys who worked for your dad could be rough around the edges but they were always nice to you. Just a bunch of cowboys looking to make ends meet. They all had a place to stay on the ranch at the bunkhouse provided and they were also paid pretty well. So on almost any given Friday and Saturday night, you could find some of them at the bar picking up local women, dancing, fighting, drinking…

This was your scene. This was what you enjoyed most. The rough and gritty. Salt of the earth. Phonies were quickly sniffed out in a place like this. It was why people were staring at Jessie.

You took another gulp of your beer and then you caught sight of one of the ranch hands already looking at you from across the room. Harry. He was very easy on the eyes. He’d been working at your dad’s ranch since he was 19. He’d earned a spot of trust with your father after all his years of hard work and now he had quite a lot of responsibility given to him. He had his own small cabin out of the way of the bunkhouse. He made a lot of financial decisions for your father as well. Negotiated prices for cattle sales, went to auctions to buy large equipment, handled the daily goings on of the newbie ranch hands, and did all the hiring and firing. But he also still worked his ass off. He’d pick up slack when the other workers needed help or couldn’t do the job. You imagined he was at the bar to keep the guys in line and make sure they didn’t land themselves in jail.

You and Harry were close from the beginning. You always went out of your way to meet every new worker that came on but Harry was a little different because he’d been around for almost ten years. You certainly favored him over all the others.

“Why’s he coming over here?” Jessie whined as Harry walked through the crowd with his eyes on you and a mischievous grin on his face. You just knew he was bout to do something to piss Jessie off, which was easy to do.

“Cause he’s comin’ to say hello.” You smiled at Harry as he tipped his cowboy hat to you, stepping between you and Jessie, and reaching in to grab a bottle of beer from the bucket your boyfriend bought.

“Uh, that’s ours,” Jessie sat up straight in his stool as he watched Harry uncap the bottle and take a swig, ignoring him completely, jade eyes still on yours.

Harry placed his elbow on the table and leaned in close to you, those handsome green eyes running over the features on your face, “Hi.”

You felt yourself heat up and kept your eyes on his, “Hi.”

You would have forgotten all about Jessie but then…

“Excuse me. Is this for real? That’s our beer,” Jessie reminded the cowboy.

Harry rolled his eyes and stood up with his hand on your shoulder, softly squeezing before he looked at your boyfriend, “Sorry about that bud,” and then he looked back down at you, “Okay if I have this, sweetheart?” He lifted the bottle of beer upward.

You nodded, “Of course you can have it, Harry.”

Harry’s grin widened as he took another drink and Jessie stood up to move in front of Harry. Maybe in an attempt to intimidate him? You weren’t sure exactly. But one thing you knew was that Harry would put Jessie down in the blink of an eye. Jessie wasn’t a small man but Harry was scrappy and liked to get dirty. Didn’t mind a scuffle when the moment called for it either. You’d seen him put a lot of men in their place.

“Next time you ask before you take.” Jessie pointed. You snickered to yourself. It was a good attempt at least.

Harry laughed and dragged his eyes down your body before he tipped his hat again and walked right into Jessie’s shoulder, making him stumble into the table. Harry looked back in faux surprise at Jessie and then at you with a wink before he went back to where he’d been before with the other guys.

Okay, so maybe Harry was a bit of a dick. But he’d never been rude to you. And you liked him, unfortunately for Jessie. Harry was not a fan of your boyfriends. He’d made that clear since Jessie started coming around four months ago.

“You just let him take a beer like that?” Jessie gestured toward where Harry had gone.

“I did. What’s the problem? I know this bucket wasn’t expensive so you’re not hurtin’ for the money.”

He took a deep breath and looked off toward where the cowboys were drinking, “Do you like him, Y/n?”

You pursed your lips to the side in thought as you watched people line dancing and stomping on the peanut-covered wood floors in their cowboy boots. Now you didn’t really need to think much about that question. Because you did like Harry, and he liked you the same. All the stolen kisses and sneaky moments you two had… it’s just that that could never happen out in the open. Your dad would never go for it and Harry might lose his job if your parents ever caught wind of anything happening between you two. So you’d always kept your distance because that was the most practical option.

But you couldn’t lie and say you didn’t like the man. Anyone with two eyes could see how handsome he was.

“Sure,” you shrugged and looked at Jessie.

“Like him, like him?” Jessie looked back toward you across the table.

“Why are you worried about it, Jes? Even if I did, it’s not a good match. My dad would kill him.”

He shook his head and watched the people on the floor dancing with their big, shiny belt buckles glistening under the shoddy lights, the strum of guitars, and a twangy voice singing an old Garth Brooks song.

You got up and waved when you saw your friend Chelle. She was among those dancing and you weren’t going to miss it, “You coming with me or not?” You looked back at the dud sitting on his stool with a scowl.

“Go on ahead. I’ll be right here.”

You rolled your eyes. There was only so much more you could take of Jessie. If he had even shown an ounce of something that looked like fun you might want to stick around longer. Hell, if he even would have just stood up to Harry about the way he had been very clearly flirting with you in front of him (rather than get so worked up over the beer Harry took) that could even be something for you to think about. But the man wouldn’t dance with you, he wouldn’t ride horses on the ranch, he wouldn’t go to rodeos, and he most certainly didn’t want to do anything that could sully up his nice clothes once in a while. Stepping over peanut shells was his limit. If it weren’t for your parents you’d never have considered him in the first place.

“Y/n!” Chelle pulled you in next to her and you began moving yourself in line in a weave; right, back, front… You always felt like an idiot when you joined in on line dancing but that was part of the fun. Everyone looked like hillbillies and idiots out there and it was a blast.

The music, the atmosphere, the raucous noise from everyone laughing, singing, shouting, stomping… your country girl roots were in full bloom that night. And beer after beer then a couple shots of whisky probably did you no good but you were going to enjoy your night with or without your boyfriend who did not move from the spot where you left him. Part of you, at one point, hoped he’d just go. He was uncomfortable and not having fun. You knew the only reason he was there was to keep an eye on you to make sure you didn’t do anything dumb.

And the later it got the more wild the bar became. More people filled in the small space, the music was louder, some of the lights at the edge of the room were dimmed, and the line for the bathroom grew longer.

“He gonna sit over there watching me all night?” You heard Harry from behind you as he moved in step, a bottle of beer in his big hand you noted as you turned to look up at him.

You laughed, “Probably. He’s jealous.”

Harry licked his pink lips and tampered what you knew was a big grin, “Oh yeah? Why’s he jealous?”

You both did a clumsy pivot turn together and you just smiled up at the handsome cowboy and shook your head.

There was no need to answer Harry. He knew what was going on. He knew you liked him just the same as he liked you. It had always been something secret between you two but it was obvious to almost everyone around. Except for your father. That was one time when you were both on your best behavior.

“Surprised you’re still here. Don’t you have an early morning tomorrow?” You asked.

He nodded, “Sure do. Just keeping an eye on everything going on here is all. I’ve got a responsibility for most of the people in this bar right now.”

“Oh yeah? All the guys seem to be doing okay. No one’s getting too crazy tonight it seems,” you looked around at the other workers, and most of them were two sheets to the wind but they were tame and having fun.

“Still my responsibility. Plus you’re still here.”

You grinned, “That I am. Figured I’d close the place down tonight.”

Harry laughed, “You usually do anyway. Always have been like one of the boys. Just as rowdy as the rest of us.”

You loved it when you got to talk to Harry. Loved how he looked at you and how he’d say your name. Loved how so many times you’d done just this and it felt exactly like what you wanted.

Another shot of whisky at the bar with Harry and you started to feel woozy. Your world was spinning but you were still having too much fun to call it a night.

“I should take you home,” Jessie appeared, taking you by your shoulders and pulling you away from Harry. For a short time, you’d forgotten he was still there.

“No, I think Harry’s gonna take me home.” You looked up at Harry.

“That’s right. Was just about to take her home.” Harry spoke as he stepped in closer to Jessie.

Jessie laughed and you felt his firm grip moving you away but you were too drunk to really put up any kind of fight.

“Nah, just stay here with the rest of the drunk cowboys. I got her.”

Harry followed you and Jessie out the front of the bar as Jessie opened up the passenger door of his nice car.

“You gonna be all right sweetheart?” Harry ducked down to ask you before Jessie could close the door – Harry blocking the space so he could look at you as he reached up for your face and softly turned your head to look at him.

You nodded, “It’s fine. I just need to go to bed.”

“That’s enough. She’s fine,” Jessie closed the door.

Your memory was only clear in bits and pieces as Jessie drove you home. You remembered him berating you for acting like a clown and then when he brought you to your room the memory of him kissing you and taking your hand to cup over his crotch was vivid. You remember telling him you had to go to sleep but he was angry at you. You could feel that too. You remembered his anger and how he shoved you down into your bed before he was hovered over you.

But then you remembered being on your knees in front of your toilet and expelling the contents of your stomach furiously. Jessie’s words rang in your ears about how you were gross and just as nasty as all the cowboys on the ranch. How he didn’t want to fuck you anyway when you were drunk.

You woke up on your bathroom floor and Jessie was long gone.

NOTE: This is a 15k+ Patreon-only one shot. If you'd like to read more consider signing up!

xoxo

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #firstpost #harry edward styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fiction #harry styles fanfic #cowboyrry #harry styles fan fic #cowboy!harry #harry styles fanfiction #ranch hand harry #harry styles x yn #harry styles x you #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff

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orikiys · 1 year ago

Text

✿ ✿ 〞voicemails with chan after an argument

✰ genre : angst, romance and fluff in between

✰ pairings : bf!chan x fem!reader

✰ word count : 0.8k+ words

one 𖨂

hey, my beautiful girl. how are you? it’s not the same without you by my side. the house looks wrecked and so am i. i am so so sorry baby for snapping at you last night. i. . . didn’t mean it. i swear. it all happened because of me and my work, and i do accept that. just come back please? i know you’re at your friend’s house but i won’t force you. ever. i just hope we can talk this out thoroughly. please? i love you very much. always know that, yeah? and i’m only a call away if you need me. good night.

two 𖨂

so i didn’t receive an answer back. does that mean you’re going to stay there for a while? alright, i respect your decisions. i always do. you know that right? anyway, today sucked. i kind of twisted my ankle while practising and i tripped over a charger and hurt my chin. it sounds painful but it was even more painful when you don’t reply to my messages, or to my calls and even my voicemails. i fucked up and i know that very well. i may sound selfish but i want you with me. i need you when i wake up and when i sleep. i want to see your face when you smile at me. how long has it been since i last saw you? over 2 weeks i suppose? if you’re listening to my voicemails, let’s meet tomorrow at our usual spot. at 3 i’ll be there. i’ll wait for you even if it takes forever.

three 𖨂

you eventually did show up. to be honest, i was surprised. i didn’t expect you to show up. but i’m glad you did. but i’m not very glad that you almost didn’t speak any other words except for ‘i need time’ and ‘alright’. it was pretty sad. then i realised how bad i must’ve hurt you for you to act this way. and i’ll say sorry a million times if you want me to. i regret ever letting you walk away like that. if only i had tried harder in our relationship we wouldn’t be at this stage where we’re unaware whether we’re together or not. i regret not understanding you earlier and spending my days at the company, rather than with you. i even started taking time out to come home early, at 8. just like you wanted. i even began sleeping on time, but i can’t help myself to fall asleep that easily without thinking how lonely you used to feel when i wasn’t here to hold you or to even talk to you. i regret everything, baby. i really do. i hope you’re happy, not skipping your meals and sleeping for good hours.

four 𖨂

i noticed something fall out of your wardrobe, and even though i respect your privacy, i couldn’t help myself. it was a letter. a letter presumably you wanted to give me, but you couldn’t. and it would be a lie if said i didn’t sit on the floor crying as i read the letter over and over till i had it memorised. you always wanted to write me letters didn’t you? what more do you have up your sleeve? how long are you going to keep impressing me and making my heart flutter like that? you might think i’m being a little too extra today, but it’s true! you can’t just go away after making me fall that deep for you. it’s been three weeks now. how long am i going to be punished? just answer me once. please.

five 𖨂

when i tell you i almost fell off the couch, you won’t believe me. but i almost didn’t believe my eyes when i saw your voicemail. why would you ever be sorry baby? you have all the right to be angry at me. i deserve it. but don’t think you did anything wrong. you just did what you thought was right. and sometimes, it’s better that way you know? like if you wouldn’t have gone away i would just return to my schedule again. i wouldn’t have realised where i was wrong. so don’t blame yourself, okay? as i said before, i’ll wait.

six 𖨂

so this is gonna be the end of all the angsty voicemails as you just called me saying you’ll be coming home tonight. i’ll prepare a welcome dinner for you along with some kisses if you would like. and hugs too perhaps? i am just on my way to clean the house and myself too. since i didn’t shower today, so i’ll see you in about 8 hours. i’m very happy that you’re coming back babe. i love you so much. and i, thank you, for giving me a second chance. i’ll be waiting for you, my love.

#ॱଳ͘#chan x reader #stray kids x reader #skz fluff #skz angst #bang chan x reader #bang chan #stray kids #chan angst #voicemails with chan #chan x you #skz x reader #skz fanfic

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heizlut · 6 months ago

Text

Promises

ꕀ cw: toxic relationship

ꕀ tags: switch fem!reader, dom!geshu lin, angst to smut, manipulation, rough/raw sex, creampie, oral fem!receiving, cheating, just overall toxic shit, lowkey emotional/soft ending

ꕀ nsfw under the cut

ꕀ m!list here

a/n: this might be the longest fic i’ve ever written😗

The relationship you have with Geshu Lin was hardly conventional. Both terrible for each other, but unable to let go. It was like a drug, the constant fights, the lies, the twisted love…

It wasn’t like Geshu Lin didn’t love you, no, it was more that he loved you too much and it honestly scared the fuck out of him. He didn’t know how to love you correctly even if he wanted to. A healthy relationship was an abnormal concept to him.

He was always a cold man, always harsh, always looking for something to keep his adrenaline pumping when commanding his soldiers just wasn’t enough. The sadistic side of him always craved more, relishing in the way you’d fight with him, loving how beautiful you looked when upset. It was wrong, he knew that.

But you always came back to him, that was one thing that would never change.

၊၊||၊:･.၊၊||၊:･.၊၊||၊:･.၊၊||၊:･.

After yet another heated argument with you, Geshu Lin found himself wrapped up with two cute medics in his office and a large, half-drunk bottle of alcohol on his desk. His tongue was down one of their throats while he groped at the other. Sure they didn’t feel like you, not even close, but he needed to let off some steam, yet still craving the spike of adrenaline that came with the drama.

You didn’t want to stay in your shared home any longer, wanting to find him, wanting to fix things even if it was only temporary. Whenever he left the house after a fight, he was usually found getting shitfaced with some of his soldiers. So with a heavy sigh, you step out of your home and head towards the base.

The soldiers greet you politely, but some duck their heads and keep walking, knowing exactly what was going on in their general’s office. The door to the office was left open, Geshu Lin didn’t exactly care who saw his transgressions, knowing none of his soldiers would say shit about it besides give him a disappointed look.

Standing at the open door, your heart drops. The expression on your face had you looking like a scorned angel. “What the fuck, Geshu…”, your voice cracks slightly. His eyes snap to yours and for a fraction of a second, he froze.

You looked so beautiful, ethereal even, with such a heartbroken look on your face that it made his heart spike. The shock of seeing you didn’t last too long before a smirk graces his lips, pulling away from the two medics.

“There’s my pretty doll~ Come over here, baby. Don’t be mad”, Geshu Lin coos, patting his lap. But you stay in your spot, unable to move, unable to think. Geshu Lin leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he takes you in, giving you a fake pout, clearly playing the victim.

“I was just thinking about you, baby. I missed you. Don’t you see how hard it is without you?”, he speaks. Then he pauses, reading the expression on your face, “Oh, come on, don’t cry, babe. Look, I’m not paying attention to these girls anymore. It’s all over now. We’re good, right? I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Geshu Lin gets up from his seat, sauntering over to you. He leans in, trying to plant a soothing kiss to your cheek, “Besides these girls are just dumb little medics, doll. They don’t even compare to you…”

You quickly turn your head away from his attempt to kiss your cheek, then give him a sharp glare. Even with such a look, there was still pain and even concern. “You know, I came here to check in you and make sure you were okay because I was fucking worried”, you start, a tear of anger rolling down your cheek, “But you’re apparently just fucking fine with two ditzy medics hanging off you.”

Geshu Lin’s confidence falters, just a bit. He knew it would be a mistake to push you too far right now. Even though the alcohol in his system made him braver, he was smart enough to know when to reel it in. He reaches out, trying to wipe away the tear, but he stops short, unsure of how you would react.

"I'm always fine, babe. You know that," he said, his tone now a little more subdued. "You need to stop worrying so much. You're gonna go crazy." He gave a weak chuckle, clearly not feeling it. "It's not like they're anything. They're just...a distraction. A way to keep me busy while you're busy doing your own thing." Geshu Lin’s voice grows quieter, more desperate as he tried to assuage your anger as he steps back, sitting back down.

“Please, babe, don't leave me here all alone. We should go home and make up, like we always do. I'll make it up to you with my body and my mouth, I promise… Or you can stay here with me, doll. I'll make you feel better either way." He shifts in his seat, leaning towards you with pleading eyes. His hands reach out, hovering over your hips, ready and desperately wanting to pull you onto his lap if given the chance.

Tears still brim in your eyes, looking like you could break down right then and there. You look at the two girls who sit there awkwardly, clearly feeling the tension between you and the general. If looks could kill, those medics would be dead on the spot.

But then you look back at Geshu Lin, your gaze a little softer towards him. “Get rid of them”, your words are commanding but the tone of your voice is quiet. It’s a bit eerie to hear and it makes Geshu Lin’s heart pound in his chest.

His expression falls into defeat as he realizes the game was up. With a sigh, he flicks his wrist dismissively at the two girls, speaking with a curt tone, “Get out of here.” The two medics reluctantly get up and make for the exit of his office, one daring to cast a dirty look at you over her shoulder for ruining her fun.

Now that you two are alone, Geshu Lin shifts in his seat, his arm resting on the back of the couch as he looks up at you. The vulnerability fades from him and his cocky attitude returns, “What do you want, doll? You came all the way here to make sure I was okay. How sweet of you. And here I was, thinking you couldn't care less about me. Clearly, I was wrong”

His voice is laced with cynicism, but with a hint of genuine curiosity. Geshu Lin wanted to know what was going on in that pretty little head of yours. Were you genuinely here because you were concerned and wanted him home or were you looking for another fight, either way was thrilling to him.

Even with his words and his tone of voice, you feel yourself falter. There was nothing new about this. Geshu Lin would always be the same and you would always crawl back into his arms. You move forward, straddling his lap and settling against him, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face into the crook of his neck, “Shut up.”

Geshu Lin’s eyes widen as you settle into him. He didn’t know quite how to react, but he feels himself growing hard at the feel of your body on his. It was a visceral reaction, one that he couldn't control. His arms instinctively drape over your waist, squeezing you tight as if he’d been dying to hold onto you.

He inhaled roughly as you bury your face into his neck, the scent of your hair mingling with the faint stench of alcohol in the room. "Fuck, baby," he mutters, his voice a strained whisper. He didn't know how to respond to the vulnerability he was seeing in you.

Geshu Lin wanted to kiss the top of your head, to reassure you that everything would be okay, but he didn't. Instead, he just holds you close, his heart pounding in his chest. The tension between you was palpable, a mixture of anger, lust, and love.

You press your lips to his neck, making Geshu Lin’s breath hitch and his body tense up as shivers run down his spine. As your lips pepper soft kisses up to his jawline, a low groan escapes him, his eyes fluttering shut. “Why did you do this… Why even get with those girls when you have me…?”, your voice is quiet and soft, but still laced with pain as you continue to press kisses to his skin.

"Because... because I'm an idiot, I guess. Because I'm the general and it’s something I can do. Because I'm drunk and I can, and because I want to feel alive." Geshu Lin’s voice is thick with regret. "But you know what the worst part is, doll? I don't even like them. I just...fuck, I don't know..."

He opened his eyes, staring into yours, his expression raw with emotions. "I like it when you're mad at me, though. I like the way you look when you're pissed off at me. That also makes me feel...alive. It makes me feel like I'm important to you or something."

Geshu Lin’s hands tighten on your waist, an almost desperate need to hold onto them, “But really, I'm sorry, babe. I swear, next time, I'll come home to you. I'll stay away from those stupid medics. I promise." He knows his promise to you is empty, it was one he’d told you over and over and yet here you were…all over again.

He leans in, pressing his lips against yours, the kiss intense, almost as if to make amends for the night's events. It was sloppy, rough, and filled with a hunger that Geshu Lin couldn't control, his tongue seeking out yours and demanding entry.

You part your lips, letting your tongue move against his. The kiss is full of hurt, rage, and desperation as your lips press with his. This was a routine that would continue again and again, both unable to break out of it.

Geshu Lin’s body responds to your passion, his hands roaming up and down your back, gripping your ass before he squeezes it, pulling you closer. The kiss intensifies, becoming a battle of dominance, each trying to take control, your tongues tangling and dueling in a primal dance.

He could practically taste the hurt and rage in your kiss, and it only fueled the fire within him. He was addicted to this rollercoaster of emotions, the highs and lows pulling you closer and pushing you further apart.

As the kiss broke, Geshu Lin’s breaths are ragged, his eyes dark with desire. "Let's get out of here, babe," he whispered, his voice husky with lust. "We'll go home and I'll make it up to you, I promise. I'll make love to you, treat you like the angel you are."

His hands begin to roam again, his fingers slowly making their way under your tank top and sliding up your spine, tracing the curves of your back. He was making promises that he'd break again in the future, but in this moment, he wanted to make it right. It was a temporary fix, a Band-Aid over a gaping wound, but it was the only way he knew how to keep you close.

Your lips graze his as you speak, “Then take me home…” Your words are hushed against his lips, still lingering with traces of hurt and a need to reign him back in, to have him love you like you needed him to. Geshu Lin’s eyes gleam with excitement, a wicked smile playing on his lips as he nods, "Okay, doll, lead the way." He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer as he stands up.

He was feeling cocky, the booze and adrenaline coursing through his veins. He can’t help but smirk, his grip on you tightening as he leads you out of his office and off the base. Geshu Lin leans a little, speaking so that you’re the only one who hears him, “I’m gonna fuck you so good you’ll forget all about this. I’ll make sure of it.” He knew that the night was far from over. He was eager to make amends and to bring you back into his world, even if it was just for one more time.

၊၊||၊:･.၊၊||၊:･.၊၊||၊:･.၊၊||၊:･.

Once you both enter your shared home, you immediately strip off your clothes, standing naked before him. Geshu Lin’s golden eyes widen, his lust growing at the sight of your bare form. But the piercing look in your eyes sends a shiver down his spine.

“Come on, make me forget. Show me that you love me”, your voice is thick with tension and hint of desperation for him to make all this go away, to just love you. Without hesitation, Geshu Lin mirrors you, quickly stripping off his clothes and revealing his toned, muscular body, his cock throbbing and leaking with anticipation. His eyes never leave yours, drinking in the sight of you, his own desire burning brightly.

He takes a step towards you, his hands caressing your body, lingering on your breasts, your back, your hips, then moving down to your ass, gripping it hard and pulling you close. "I'll show you love, babe," he whispers, his voice thick with desire as he begins to kiss a trail down your neck, and to your breasts. His tongue laving at your nipples and making them harden.

Geshu Lin pulls back only to gently push you towards the bed, to which you sit on it, legs spread and with a heated gaze. His eyes trail down to your slick pussy as he takes in the sight of your arousal, his cock hardening further at the sight.

He crouches down and leans in, blowing cool air on your wet slit, making you shudder and your hole twitch. “You're mine, and I'll show you how much you mean to me. Trust me, baby, I'll make you feel like the angel you are, and nothing else will matter," he promised, his voice low and dangerous.

Your eyes grow heavy-lidded with lust and a twinge of anger and hurt. You reach forward, tangling your fingers in his silver hair, tugging slightly. Geshu Lin’s eyes darken, the tug on his hair arousing him even more. “Then shut up and eat my pussy”, there’s a viciousness to your voice, but it also hold a deep need for him.

A wicked smile spreads across his face, and without saying a word, he begins to eat you out with a hunger that’s intoxicating. Diving in, his tongue explores every inch of your pussy, lapping at it, nipping at the sensitive skin, and flicking his tongue against your clit, causing shivers of pleasure to run through your body.

Geshu Lin kept up the rhythm, teasing and pleasuring, his hands gripping your hips tightly. His fingers dig into the soft flesh, holding you still and allowing him full access to your body. He could taste the urgency, the anger, and the lust, and he fed off it. It fueled him, making the experience even more intense.

A low growl left his throat as he continued to feast on your wet cunt, making you moan and writhe on the sheets beneath you. His tongue never stops, never giving you the chance to catch your breath, to think, only just to feel. Every now and then, he'd look up, his eyes filled with lust and devotion, pleasing you as if his life depended on it.

He can see the waves of pleasure crashing over your body, the knuckles of your fingers gripping his hair even tighter, desperate, needy, and raw. The room was filled with the sound of their moans and the slurping noises from Geshu Lin’s mouth, the scent of arousal in the air.

Your back arches off the bed as your eyes roll back, moaning so prettily for him. Your grip tightens on his hair even more, giving him a stinging sensation that went straight to his cock. Your hips roll, pushing your pussy further against his mouth and tongue, desperate to regain control the relationship.

Your moans are music to his ears. He feels a surge of triumph, a mixture of satisfaction and vindication as his tongue brings you closer and closer to the edge. Geshu Lin keeps up the rhythm, now more determined, wanting to make up for everything.

He knew this was the key to reeling you in, punishing and pleasuring you at the same time. It was a complex dance, a fine line between pain and pleasure. Geshu Lin wanted to see the full force of your orgasm, to make you lose control, to make you forget everything but the pleasure he was giving you. But he didn't want you to forget this night, this moment, and the way his mouth made you scream his name.

He would make you his again, if only for a moment, in the most primal, obsessive way. His mouth relentless, his tongue merciless, his grip unforgiving, and his drive insatiable.

It’s not long before you cum hard all over his tongue, legs shaking and chest heaving. Geshu Lin lets out a satisfied growl as your juices coat his tongue, the taste and sensation of it only fueling his hunger for you.

You tug his hair once more, pulling him away from your soaked cunt. “Come here and fuck me”, the viciousness in your voice is all the same as before carrying along something primal within it and you finally release your grip.

There’s a wicked gleam in his golden eyes as you command him. Geshu Lin crawls up onto the bed, his eyes filled with lust as he positions himself between your legs. His hard cock throbs, standing proudly as pre-cum leaks from the tip. "As you wish, doll", he whispers, his voice thick and husky as he lines his cock up with your entrance.

Geshu Lin gazes into your eyes, staring for a moment before slamming into you, drawing a loud meek from your lips. His cock fills your tight cunt, stretching it to fit his girth. He leans in, nibbling on your neck, breathing heavily, "You belong to me, you know that, right? And I’m all yours", he growls, the words dripping with dominance and obsession.

Geshu Lin begins to move, his hips thrusting forward slowly at first, savoring your body, then picking up the pace, his eyes never leaving yours. He was marking his territory, filling you up completely.

He’s rough, intense, and possessive, his tongue snaking out to lick the bead of sweat on your neck. "I love you like no one else could ever love you, and I'll never let you go, babe," he said between panting breaths, his voice filled with desire, greed, and need.

You dig your nails into his back, not caring if it hurt. It was only fair your boyfriend felt a bit of pain. The sensation makes Geshu Lin hiss but his thrusts never cease. “Just shut the fuck up and fuck me harder”, you command. Your voice is rough, angry, hurting, and desperate.

Geshu Lin can feel your need, your anger, your pain and desperation, and it only fuels his own lust. He drives into them harder, a nearly violent force, the sound of skin slapping and wet squelching fills the room.

He leans down, nipping at your ear, "I'm sorry. I'll never do it again." Geshu Lin’s words came out between thrusts, his body relentless, his cock filling you with every drive. "You're the only one for me, babe. I swear it."

He continues to pound into you, his grip on you tightening and his eyes fixed on yours, never faltering, never breaking the connection. He was showing you through his actions, his intensity, that you were his priority, his everything, that he was yours.

Geshu Lin wanted you to forget the past, to feel loved, desired, cherished, and to hate and love him all at the same time. His breathing becomes ragged, his thrusts more powerful, each one sending pleasurable pain coursing through both of you. It’s a battle of dominance, claiming each other, lost in the chaos of desire and need.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. Nails digging into his skin, hard enough to draw blood. Your eyes stay on his, your gaze piercing yet heavy-lidded. “Then quit doing that shit- NGH!”, your harsh words are cut off by the orgasm that washes over you. Your pussy clenching hard around his thick cock.

Geshu Lin’s eyes roll back when he feels you cum on his cock. As he refocuses, he stares into your eyes, a primal lust consuming him, his thrusts becoming more aggressive, as if trying to leave an internal mark on you, to be forever remembered. He was a hurricane of emotions, a mixture of lust and apology all wrapped into one.

He couldn't help but smirk, "I'll never do it again," he pants. It was a lie of course, his body tensing, his balls tightening as he felt his own climax approaching. "I'm yours, babe," he says, the words a plea, a promise, an apology, echoing through the room, his voice thick and hoarse, as he pumps into you, chasing his high.

Geshu Lin lets out a deep, guttural moan, the sound echoing in the room as ropes of hot, sticky cum flood your cunt. He collapses onto you, his body trembling and heart racing, sweat dripping from him. His breaths are heavy and his forehead presses against yours as he looks into your eyes. His cock is still inside you, softening, but he doesn’t move to pull out.

Your breasts move with every panting breath you take. The tension slipping away but always lingering. You knew his promises were empty, every word a lie. But for now, he was yours and you were his. Your features soften slightly but hold a hint of conflicting emotions hidden underneath.

Geshu Lin leans down, pressing a kiss to your neck, his hand moving to cup your breast, squeezing gently as he waited for you to speak, to break the silence, to forgive him or to not. He had laid himself bare, baring his soul in the most primal and raw way. The energy between you is charged, the emotions a tangled mess, but for now, it was a moment of peace before the next storm.

You look into his eyes with a mix of hurt and love, a small frown on your lips. Reaching up, you run your fingers through his sweat-damp hair and then caress his cheek- a sharp contrast to how aggressive you were earlier. “Tell me you love me…”, your voice comes out soft, almost pleading.

Geshu Lin swallows hard, a wave of vulnerability washing over him as he looked into those deep, intense eyes. He knew the question was a test, an ultimatum, but he didn't flinch.

“I love you, more than I hate myself," he whispers, his voice shaky, honest, and real. "I'm sorry for everything, everything I've done, everything I'll do. But you're mine, and I'll love you until you can't stand it anymore."

Geshu Lin’s words were raw and heavy, a confession, a promise, a plea, a declaration of his love, a self-loathing confession, and an acknowledgment of his flaws. He holds onto your gaze, not breaking the connection, his cock still inside you and neither of you pulling away.

You let his words linger, your heart twisting in your chest. The room is heavy with the weight of your emotions, your history, your love, and the toxicity. Time seems to stand still, waiting to see if you would accept it, forgive him, or reject it.

You gently pull Geshu Lin’s head towards you, pressing your lips to his. It’s gentle and soft, full of pain and love. His heart races in his chest when your lips meet his. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss you back, his hand gripping your hip, tugging you closer. His tongue teases yours, exploring your mouth with a need to reaffirm your connection with a blend of emotions- hope and fear, love and turmoil.

He loved you fiercely and he hated himself just as much. The kiss was a silent plea, an apology, and an admission. His body trembling, as he tries to show you through the kiss that he was sorry, that he loved you, that he'd never leave you, no matter how many times you’d break up.

Geshu Lin clings to this moment, this kiss. His chest heaving, as he tries to show you with every inch of his being that he meant every word he said, that he'd change, that he'd never hurt you again, that he'd make things right. Maybe it was a lie, but maybe he wanted to change.

The kiss was it’s own secret language, a silent agreement, an implicit understanding that you’d both try to make it work, at least for tonight. Geshu Lin continues to kiss you, his lips soft against yours and unwilling to break the connection, unwilling to let you go, unwilling to let go of the hope that maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to heal each other.

၊၊||၊:･.၊၊||၊:･.၊၊||၊:･.၊၊||၊:･.၊၊||၊:･.

a/n: this apparently came from the depths of my soul, good god… see you all in therapy😃

#geshu lin x reader smut #geshu lin smut #wuwa smut #wuthering waves smut #geshulin smut #geshulin x reader smut #wuwa x reader smut #wuthering waves x reader smut #wuwa geshu lin #wuthering waves geshu lin

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destinationtrekk · 2 months ago

Text

Albert Wesker NSFW Alphabet

a/n: not edited, and i included links to ones already answered in asks so this wasn't a million scrolls long

nsfw below the cut, 18+ only

masterlist

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

aftercare with wesker

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Wesker is an ass and thighs man. He’s staring you down in your uniform behind his sunglasses, and don’t be surprised if you have to repeat yourself when you’re sitting close to him and wearing shorts. If you shake your ass when he’s fucking you from behind he’s heart eyes and drooling like a cartoon character.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He always asks to finish inside you. He’s not really into breeding all that much, he’s just obsessed with the way his cum leaks out of your hole and how it leaves his cock sticky and shiny when he pulls out. However he also isn’t a fan of mess or having to change the sheets every other day, so if he’s feeling really lazy he might even wear a condom just to make it easier on both of you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Panty sniffer. Why are you booing? I’m right. This guy has INSANE biological and physiological differences from a normal human, so excuse him if you just smell amazing. It isn’t a fetish or anything, don’t make it weird. He’s just able to smell you way past your preferred fragrance, and your natural scent drives him insane. Even better if you wear boxers because then HE can wear them and smell like you and–

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s not very experienced when you first get together, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t good! He knows exactly what to do, and he’s watched you enough that he can memorize your tells and most sensitive spots pretty easily. He’s a fast learner.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Face down ass up, by far. Sure, he loves you on your knees and he adores watching your face twist in pleasure, but being able to press you into the mattress while your ass jiggles against his torso– heaven.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s a pretty serious guy. Not to say he doesn’t have his silly moments when the two of you are feeling especially loving and giddy, but he takes sex as an opportunity to share your devotion to one another, not as a game or way to simply pass the time

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

A little darker than his hair, but still noticeably blond. He keeps it trimmed pretty short. This goes back to his cleanliness like with cum– he wants to be presentable and also doesn’t want his entire groin wet and sticky when the two of you are finished.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Depends on what Wesker you like. STARS and uroboros!Wesker are heavy on sweet words and gentle, loving sex, while RE4 or 5!Wesker like it more rough and (dare I say) violent. Not mean!! They just prefer to leave their affection behind in bruises and bites rather than candle-lit confessions of love

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Honestly, doesn’t do it much. He never had a need for it before, and really didn’t have the time or energy either. Maybe when he was in STARS he had a little more time to indulge, but in general he would just rather have sex. On the rare occasion he does, though, he’s quick and efficient. Usually in the shower, to keep it clean, it’s done in a few minutes and he goes about his day like nothing happened.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

wesker's kinks

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

STARS!Wesker not-so-secretly loves to fuck in his office. It’s a thrill keeping you both quiet and still being in your uniforms, random gear and holsters thrown about when you’re pawing at each other to touch skin. I think maybe RE5!Wesker likes to have quickies in the lab or his office, but it’s more of a power play for him to see you on your knees than anything else. Otherwise, most Wesker variations prefer the comfy bed

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He hates to admit it, but insubordination is a big one. He demands respect, but knowing you have an attitude and aren’t afraid to tell him off gets him rock hard. This is usually how quickies start as well. Another turn on is calling him by his titles (Doctor, Captain, Officer, etc). Once again, he’s a respected figure who earned his titles through work and bloodshed, so giving him this attention feeds his ego (and his massive dick)

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Wesker will not permanently harm your body or psyche. He doesn’t want to you be his mind/fuck slave, and he won’t have you crawling around after him begging for scraps of attention. He’s with you because he respects you on a fundamental level, so unless those are things you’re actually into, he wants to treat you with the respect you deserve. I also think he isn’t into food play, or any bodily functions in general. Once again, he’s a very clean and mindful person and making a mess doesn’t suit him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Prefers receiving to giving, but that isn’t to say he doesn’t love both! He enjoys knowing you feel good and he’ll do anything to see you moan and arch your back, but he just adores how you look kneeling in front of him with big teary puppy eyes while he fucks your throat

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He enjoys a good mix of both. He works so often that he usually doesn’t have energy for a rough session, so generally he takes his time and wants it to be sweet for both of you– other times he’s a beast and leaves you marked up for days with a barely-there limp from your sore hips

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Any Wesker loves a good quickie. Not on a regular basis since he’s so busy, but when the opportunity arises, he will absolutely take it. Whether it be in the lab, the office, in the field on a mission- if he has a spare 10 minutes, expect trouble in the form of his desperate hands and mouth.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s a big risk taker. He figures worse comes to worse, you didn’t like it and it won’t happen again. Like trying new kinks for the first time or having an especially risky quickie at work- sometimes he jerks off to the memory for a week, other times it’s a little awkward and humorous. He just sees them as trials that may or may not work out, just like everything else.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Insane stamina, much lower energy. He can go for hours if you asked him too, but the poor guy just doesn’t always have it in him. Technically, even tired, he has potentially limitless stamina with how the viruses affect his body, but he’s tired, okay? He needs a nap because he was up all night staring at reports

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He enjoys using toys! Vibrators are his go to because it’s easy to quickly overwhelm you with one, but he also really likes using ropes and plugs. He enjoys plugs a lot because he can keep you from dripping everywhere when he plans on round two later. He also loves to see you squirming and struggling when the ropes come out, and he especially loves when you use the ropes on him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Wesker is a world-class tease. It starts with smug looks and raised eyebrows that make you blush under his attention, then slowly devolves into his breath on your cheek while he’s trapped you against a wall. He’s got a track record of leaving subtle touches on your body when no one is looking, but it still leaves you a blushing mess when his hand finds your thighs under the table.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s a shy little guy…. But God can he whimper and moan. He likes to keep himself quiet unless he’s teasing you with dirty talk, but if you get him comfortable or seriously out of his head, he’s loud as all hell. A complete mess, just babbling on about how good you feel, begging you for more, crying out and whining while you wring him dry. He’ll call you every pet name in the book just to beg you for whatever you’ll give

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I have a whole sub!wesker tag but… this man is a switch. He’s naturally dominant and commanding, even in bed, but when he feels safe and trusts you, he’s like putty in your hands. Whether he’s topping or bottoming, he’ll nuzzle into your skin and whimper like a puppy with every quiet word you coo at him. He’s into praise, hardcore, but he also enjoys a little (read: LITTLE) bit of degradation aimed at him when he can’t stop begging you for more.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

wesker below the waist...

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not very high! He works his ass off, be it STARS or Umbrella or Tri-Cell, so most often he comes home and collapses on the nearest soft surface before he’s up at the crack of dawn and back to the grind. It’s actually hard to get him to relax sometimes, so even when he does have time to fool around, his mind is going a mile a minute and he doesn’t always have it in him to stop thinking long enough to even get hard. Not to say you never do it, your sex life is very healthy– it’s just not on his mind every day

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He’ll ass out after a good orgasm. You’ve even seen him fall asleep at his desk, head hanging limp against his chest, after a quickie before. If it’s late at night and you’re in bed, good luck getting him up long enough to take a shower

#resident evil #albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #albert wesker x you #albert wesker headcanons #headcanons #resident evil x reader #nsft alphabet #trekk writes #re5 wesker #stars wesker #uroboros!wesker #re4 wesker #re4r wesker #dbd #dead by daylight #dbd wesker

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hookhausenschips · 4 months ago

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Butterflies {OP81}

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Summary: Amidst past heartbreak and fear of vulnerability, Y/N gradually allows herself to fall for Oscar, whose patience and sincerity offer a promising chance at love, revealing that the journey of trust and commitment is worth the risk.

Warnings: themes of emotional vulnerability, past trauma, fear of intimacy, struggles/uncertainties of opening up to someone new, and the complexities of trust in relationships.

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Loosely based on this song

you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

I don't wanna fall so fast

But I'm open

I’m 24, young, and full of potential, yet I've already learned some tough lessons in love. Being a black woman, navigating the complexities of relationships hasn't always been easy. I’ve had my heart broken more times than I care to admit, and each time, it left a scar that hasn’t quite healed. The people I trusted with my deepest emotions didn’t treat them with the care they deserved, and now, it’s hard not to feel jaded.

There was Darren, who made me believe in forever but disappeared when things got tough. Then there was Camille, who said all the right things but never really meant them. Each of them left me with a little less faith in love, and a little more doubt in myself. I keep asking myself, "Why do I always end up hurt?" and "Is there something wrong with me?"

Lately, I’ve been trying to rebuild—focus on myself, get my confidence back. But deep down, there’s a yearning that I can’t quite shake, a desire to find that connection again. To love and be loved, but this time, without the heartbreak. Yet, every time I think about letting someone new in, my stomach twists with anxiety.

They always say that good things never last

And I know 'cause I've been broken

One evening, while sitting on my bed, I scrolled through old messages from past relationships, the ones that used to make me smile. Now, they just remind me of broken promises. I whispered to myself, "I can’t do this again. I can’t let myself fall for someone just to end up picking up the pieces later."

But there’s a part of me—a small, stubborn part—that still believes love is worth the risk. And that part scares me the most because what if I’m wrong? What if I let someone in again and end up more broken than before?

My friends say, "You deserve someone who treats you right, someone who values you." I know they’re right, but how do I open up to that possibility when my past keeps haunting me? How do I let go of the fear that history will repeat itself?

And that’s where I was—stuck between wanting to love and fearing the pain that might come with it—when Oscar came into my life.

I'm tryin' to protect my heart

But you're making it so hard

It was a random Tuesday, and I had no idea that day would change anything. I wasn’t looking for love, not even close. My focus was on work, my friends, and trying to enjoy life on my own terms. But then, there he was—Oscar Piastri.

I remember the first time I saw him. It was at a small coffee shop around the corner from my apartment. I had just picked up my usual order, a caramel latte with an extra shot of espresso, and was about to leave when I accidentally bumped into someone.

“Whoa, sorry about that,” I said, looking up to see who I’d almost drenched in coffee.

He smiled, a warm, easy smile that immediately put me at ease. “No worries, I could use a little caffeine splash to wake me up.”

I laughed, a bit nervously, and noticed how his eyes crinkled at the corners. “I’m glad I could help, I guess?”

He chuckled and extended his hand. “I’m Oscar, by the way. I think I’ve seen you around here before.”

I hesitated for a split second before shaking his hand. “Y/N. And yeah, this is my go-to spot. Best coffee in town.”

“Agreed. Though I have to say, you’ve got a pretty intense order there. Tough day?”

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Just the usual grind. You?”

“Same here. But this,” he held up his cup, “is the highlight of my day so far.”

We both laughed, and for a moment, everything felt easy. There was something about him that intrigued me, something different from what I was used to. He wasn’t trying too hard, wasn’t putting on a show. He was just… Oscar.

And I guess it's safe to say

You take my pain away

Over the next few days, I kept running into him—at the coffee shop, at the grocery store, even at the park where I liked to jog. It was like the universe was nudging me toward him, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to listen.

One afternoon, after another “coincidental” meeting at the coffee shop, he asked me to sit with him. I almost said no, wanting to stick to my usual routine, but something in his eyes made me pause.

“Just for a few minutes,” he said, his voice soft and inviting. “I promise I won’t keep you long.”

I found myself nodding. “Okay, a few minutes.”

As we sat down, the conversation flowed effortlessly. We talked about everything and nothing—our favorite movies, the best places to eat in the city, and even the little quirks we had. I learned that Oscar was a bit of a perfectionist, always striving to be the best at whatever he did, but he had a laid-back side that balanced it out. He loved racing, which didn’t surprise me, but what caught me off guard was how he spoke about it—with passion, but also with a humility that was refreshing.

At one point, I mentioned my love for books, and his eyes lit up. “You’re a reader? That’s awesome. What’s your favorite genre?”

“Anything that makes me feel something,” I replied. “I love stories that are real, that don’t shy away from the messy parts of life.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “I get that. I think the best stories are the ones that make you feel like you’re not alone, like someone out there gets what you’re going through.”

There was a sincerity in his words that made me want to know more about him, even though I was still hesitant. I couldn’t deny that I was drawn to him, that there was something about Oscar that made me feel… safe. But at the same time, a voice in the back of my mind reminded me of the walls I’d built, the ones that had protected me from getting hurt again.

As the conversation wound down, Oscar looked at me with a smile that was both gentle and knowing. “I’m really glad we got to talk, Y/N. Maybe we could do this again sometime? No pressure, just… whenever you feel like it.”

I hesitated, the familiar apprehension bubbling up. But then I found myself nodding. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Great,” he said, his smile widening. “I’ll see you around then.”

As I walked away, I couldn’t help but feel a little lighter, like maybe—just maybe—this was something worth exploring. But I was still cautious, still unsure if I could let myself fall for someone again. Only time would tell if Oscar was different, if he was someone I could trust with my heart.

And I just wanna hold you all night long

Whenever I'm around you, nothing's wrong I'm hoping that you'll always be around

The days turned into weeks, and before I knew it, Oscar and I had developed a comfortable routine. We’d meet up for coffee or grab dinner at one of the spots we’d discovered together. There was a natural rhythm to our conversations, a back-and-forth that felt easy, almost effortless. But with that ease came something I hadn’t expected—the butterflies.

At first, it was just a slight flutter whenever I saw his name pop up on my phone. A quick text from him, like, “Hey, thinking about trying that new sushi place tonight. You in?” would make my heart skip a beat. I’d find myself smiling at the screen, trying to keep cool as I typed back, “Sounds good. What time?”

But it wasn’t just the texts. It was the way he looked at me when we were talking, like I was the only person in the room. One night, we were sitting in the park, watching the sunset after a long day. Oscar had brought a blanket, and we were sprawled out on the grass, just talking about everything and nothing.

You got me on a high, I don't wanna come down And I love it, I love it (these butterflies)

Yeah I love it, I love it (I'm on a high)

Yeah, I love it, I love it And I just wanna love on you (ooh)

“Do you ever just look at the sky and think about how small we are?” he asked, his voice soft and contemplative.

I turned to him, surprised by the question. “Sometimes. It’s kind of overwhelming, though, isn’t it? Thinking about how big the universe is and how tiny our problems are in comparison.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, his eyes still fixed on the sky. “But I think it’s kind of comforting, too. Like, no matter what happens, the world keeps turning, the sun keeps setting, and there’s always a new day.”

I looked at him then, really looked at him, and felt that familiar flutter in my chest. It wasn’t just the words he said; it was the way he said them, with a quiet assurance that made me feel like everything would be okay.

Ever since you crossed my path

Everything is different

You always know just how to make me laugh

You got me all up in my feelings

“You’re a bit of a philosopher, aren’t you?” I teased, trying to lighten the mood.

He laughed, a low, warm sound that made my heart flip. “Maybe a little. But seriously, Y/N, it’s moments like this that make me appreciate the simple things. Like just being here with you.”

My breath caught in my throat, and for a moment, I didn’t know what to say. His words were simple, but they meant so much more than that. I could feel the butterflies intensifying, that mix of excitement and nervousness churning in my stomach.

“Yeah,” I finally managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. “I get that.”

And then there were the little things he did that made me feel seen, really seen. Like the time we were at a bookstore, and I was browsing through the fiction section. I mentioned offhandedly that I loved a particular author but hadn’t read their latest book yet. A few days later, Oscar showed up with a wrapped package.

And as much as I love the feeling I hate it, it gets me frustrated

Wanna say just how I feel

“What’s this?” I asked, curious.

He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Just open it.”

I tore off the wrapping paper to find the book I’d mentioned. My eyes widened in surprise, and I looked up at him, speechless.

“You said you hadn’t read it yet,” he said, shrugging like it was no big deal. “I figured you might like it.”

My heart swelled with a mix of emotions—gratitude, joy, and something deeper that I wasn’t ready to name yet. “Oscar, this is… thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” he replied, his voice softening. “But I wanted to.”

It was in moments like these that I started to feel those butterflies taking over. He made me laugh like no one else could, like the time we tried to cook dinner together and ended up burning half the food. We were both hopeless in the kitchen, but instead of getting frustrated, Oscar just laughed, his laughter infectious.

“Well, I guess we know what we’re not good at,” he said, shaking his head as he surveyed the mess we’d made.

“Yeah,” I laughed, wiping away a tear. “But at least we didn’t burn the whole place down.”

He grinned and bumped his shoulder against mine. “Small victories, right?”

But it wasn’t just the laughter. It was the way he was there for me, supporting me in ways I hadn’t expected. Like the time I was having a rough day at work, feeling overwhelmed and stressed. I hadn’t told him much, just that I was having a hard time. Later that evening, he showed up at my door with a tub of my favorite ice cream and a stack of movies.

“I figured you could use a break,” he said with that easy smile of his. “And maybe some company?”

I couldn’t help but smile back, feeling the butterflies fluttering stronger than ever. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

But don't know how you would take it

Why do you do what you do to me?

He chuckled, a little embarrassed. “Just trying to be a good friend.”

But the way he looked at me when he said it, I knew there was more to it than that. And that was when the nervous excitement hit me hardest. I was falling for him—harder and faster than I’d expected—and it terrified me.

As the days with Oscar grew longer, so did the feelings I was trying to keep in check. Those butterflies that started as a gentle flutter had turned into a storm inside me, making it harder to ignore what was happening. I was falling for him, and it scared me to death.

One evening, after another perfect day with Oscar, I sat alone in my apartment, staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. I could see it in my own eyes—how happy I was, how alive I felt. But underneath that happiness was a growing fear, a fear I couldn’t shake no matter how hard I tried.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” I whispered to my reflection, frustration lacing my voice. “Why are you letting yourself feel this way again?”

I thought about the last time I’d let myself fall, how it had ended in tears and broken promises. I had sworn to myself that I wouldn’t go through that again, that I’d protect my heart at all costs. But here I was, teetering on the edge of another fall, and I couldn’t decide whether to jump or pull back.

When I was with Oscar, everything felt right. He made me laugh, he made me feel seen, and he made me believe—if only for a moment—that maybe this time could be different. But when I was alone, the doubts would creep in. What if he didn’t feel the same way? What if I was just setting myself up for another heartbreak?

I promised myself I wouldn't fall

But every time I see you, I just wanna risk it all

One night, we were sitting on his couch, a movie playing in the background. I was barely paying attention to the screen, too caught up in my own thoughts. Oscar must have noticed because he nudged me gently.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft and concerned.

I forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired, I guess.”

But even as I said it, I knew it wasn’t true. I wasn’t tired—I was scared. Scared of letting him in, scared of what it would mean if I did. I wanted to tell him, to lay it all out there, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, I just sat there, feeling the frustration build inside me.

Oscar turned to face me, his brow furrowed in that adorable way he did when he was trying to figure something out. “Are you sure? You seem… I don’t know, a little distant tonight.”

I bit my lip, the battle raging inside me. Part of me wanted to tell him everything, to spill out all the fears and doubts that were eating me up inside. But another part of me, the part that had been hurt before, told me to keep quiet, to protect myself.

“It’s nothing,” I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper. “Just… a lot on my mind.”

He didn’t push, but I could see the concern in his eyes, and that only made me feel worse. Here was this amazing guy who was nothing but kind and patient with me, and I couldn’t even bring myself to be honest with him. The frustration gnawed at me, making my heart ache.

Later that night, after Oscar had walked me home, I sat on my bed, my mind racing. Why was this so hard? Why couldn’t I just tell him how I felt? I grabbed a pillow and hugged it to my chest, trying to quiet the turmoil inside me.

I closed my eyes, remembering a conversation I’d had with my best friend not too long ago. She had told me, “You have to take risks in love, Y/N. You can’t protect yourself from everything, or you’ll never really experience it.”

Her words echoed in my mind, and I knew she was right. But knowing and doing were two very different things. I wanted to take the risk, I wanted to let myself fall for Oscar, but every time I got close, the fear would pull me back.

The next time we hung out, the tension was still there, lurking beneath the surface. We were at a small, cozy restaurant, sharing a plate of fries and talking about nothing in particular. Oscar was his usual charming self, making me laugh with some ridiculous story about his latest racing practice. But even as I laughed, the frustration was bubbling up inside me.

“You know,” he said, dipping a fry in ketchup, “I’ve been thinking about going on a road trip. Just get in the car and drive, no destination in mind. What do you think?”

I smiled, trying to focus on the conversation. “That sounds amazing. I’ve always wanted to do something like that.”

He grinned, his eyes twinkling with excitement. “Maybe you could come with me. We could just take off, leave everything behind for a while. What do you say?”

My heart leaped at the idea, but then the doubts crashed in like a tidal wave. What if I said yes? What if we spent all that time together, and I ended up falling even harder, only for him to not feel the same way? The thought terrified me, and I felt the words catch in my throat.

“I… I don’t know,” I stammered, trying to keep my voice steady. “I mean, it sounds great, but…”

“But?” he prompted gently, leaning in closer.

I looked down at my hands, fiddling with the napkin on my lap. “It’s just… I don’t want to mess things up, you know? What if…”

He reached across the table and placed his hand over mine, his touch warm and reassuring. “Hey, whatever it is, you can talk to me. I’m not going anywhere.”

His words should have comforted me, but instead, they made the frustration even worse. How could I explain that the thing I was most afraid of was exactly that—that he wouldn’t go anywhere, that he’d stay, and I’d end up falling too deep?

And baby, yeah, I know it ain't right

But the chemistry we have is so hard to fight

I took a deep breath, trying to find the courage to speak. “Oscar, I… I like spending time with you. A lot. But sometimes, I get scared, you know? I’ve been hurt before, and I don’t want to go through that again.”

His expression softened, and he squeezed my hand gently. “I get it. I really do. But I’m not those other people, Y/N. I’m not here to hurt you.”

“I know,” I whispered, my voice barely holding steady. “But it’s still hard. I want to let go, to just… be with you, but I’m afraid of what might happen if I do.”

Oscar looked at me for a long moment, his eyes searching mine. Then he nodded, his grip on my hand tightening just a little. “It’s okay to be scared. But I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. We can take this as slow as you need to. I’m not in a rush.”

His words were exactly what I needed to hear, but even as he spoke them, I could feel the frustration gnawing at me. I wanted to believe him, I wanted to trust that things could be different this time, but the fear still lingered, a shadow that wouldn’t quite go away.

As we walked out of the restaurant that night, his arm around my shoulders, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of emotions—gratitude for his understanding, frustration with myself for holding back, and a deep, aching longing for the security I so desperately wanted. I knew I had to make a choice soon, to either let go and take the leap, or pull back and protect my heart. But the decision wasn’t easy, and the battle between vulnerability and protection raged on inside me, unresolved.

The tension had been building for weeks, like a tightly wound spring ready to snap. Every time Oscar and I spent time together, I could feel the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. I knew I had to say something, to finally let him know how I felt, but fear had kept me silent. That all changed one evening when the moment of truth arrived, unplanned and unexpected.

And I just wanna hold you all night long

Whenever I'm around you, nothing's wrong I'm hoping that you'll always be around

It was a Friday night, and Oscar had invited me to watch one of his races on TV. We’d done this a few times before, but this time felt different. Maybe it was the way he seemed extra excited, or maybe it was just the way my heart pounded every time I looked at him. Either way, I knew something was going to happen that night.

We were sitting on his couch, the glow of the TV casting soft shadows across the room. The race was in full swing, but I was only half-watching, too caught up in my own thoughts. Oscar, on the other hand, was fully engrossed, his eyes glued to the screen, a smile playing on his lips as he watched the cars speed around the track.

“You’re really into this, huh?” I teased, trying to lighten my own mood.

He grinned, not taking his eyes off the screen. “You have no idea. There’s just something about the adrenaline, the speed… it’s like nothing else.”

I smiled, but the butterflies were back, and they weren’t the good kind this time. I felt a knot in my stomach, a sense of urgency that I couldn’t ignore any longer. I had to say something—tonight.

You got me on a high, I don't wanna come down And I love it, I love it (these butterflies)

Said I love it, I love it (I'm on a high)

Love (And I just wanna love on)

And I just wanna love on you

As the race neared its end, Oscar finally turned to me, his expression full of excitement. “That was incredible, wasn’t it? I swear, every time I watch, it just gets better.”

“Yeah, it was great,” I replied, but my voice was distant, my mind elsewhere.

He noticed immediately, his smile fading a little. “Hey, what’s up? You seem… off. Did something happen?”

I hesitated, my heart racing faster than any of the cars we’d just watched. This was it, the moment I’d been dreading and anticipating all at once. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but the words caught in my throat.

“Y/N, talk to me,” Oscar urged, his voice gentle but firm. He reached out and took my hand, his touch warm and reassuring. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

I looked down at our intertwined hands, the sight of them together giving me a strange mix of comfort and anxiety. I knew I couldn’t keep this to myself any longer. I had to let him in, or I’d lose my chance.

“Oscar, I… I need to tell you something,” I began, my voice trembling slightly.

Just wanna love, just wanna love on ya (uh, uh) Just wanna love, just wanna love on ya (uh, uh)

Ay, ay (uh, uh)

He squeezed my hand, his eyes locked onto mine. “I’m listening.”

I took another deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts. “I’ve been holding back… a lot. And it’s not because I don’t enjoy spending time with you—I do. More than I can even explain. But the truth is, I’m scared. I’m scared of what might happen if I let myself really fall for you.”

Oscar’s expression softened, but he didn’t say anything, just letting me speak.

“I’ve been hurt before, Oscar,” I continued, my voice thick with emotion. “And every time I’ve let myself fall, it’s ended badly. I don’t want to go through that again. But at the same time, I can’t deny what I’m feeling. Being with you makes me happy, really happy, but it also terrifies me. I don’t want to get hurt again, and I don’t want to hurt you either.”

And I just wanna know you would catch me if I fall

If you tell me yeah, boy I might just risk it all If you tell me no, it's okay, then I will leave (ooh)

I hope you feel the same, you're the only one I see

I see, I see

The room was silent except for the hum of the TV, and for a moment, I was afraid I’d said too much, that I’d scared him away. But then Oscar reached out, gently lifting my chin so I was looking directly into his eyes.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice steady and reassuring, “I can’t promise that nothing will ever go wrong. I can’t promise that I’ll never make a mistake. But what I can promise is that I’ll always be honest with you, and I’ll always do my best to protect your heart.”

My breath hitched at his words, the sincerity in his eyes breaking through some of the walls I’d put up. “I’m not asking for perfection, Oscar. I just… I just need to know that if I take this leap, you’ll be there to catch me.”

He nodded, his thumb brushing gently over the back of my hand. “I will be. And I want you to know something, too—I’m scared, too. Scared of messing this up, scared of not being what you need. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try, right? Because what we have… it feels real, Y/N. And I think it’s worth the risk.”

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I blinked them back, a mix of relief and hope swelling in my chest. “It does feel real,” I whispered, my voice shaky. “And I want to try, Oscar. I really do. I’m just… I’m afraid of falling too hard, too fast.”

He smiled then, a soft, understanding smile that made my heart ache in the best way possible. “Then we’ll take it slow. We’ll figure it out together, one step at a time. You don’t have to do this alone.”

I nodded, finally allowing myself to lean into the feelings I’d been holding back. “Okay,” I said, my voice steadier now. “Let’s try.”

Oscar pulled me into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around me in a way that made me feel safe, like maybe—just maybe—I’d found something worth holding onto. As I rested my head against his chest, I could hear the steady beat of his heart, and for the first time in a long while, I felt a sense of peace.

“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice muffled against his shirt.

“For what?” he asked, his hand gently rubbing my back.

“For being patient with me. For understanding.”

He pressed a soft kiss to the top of my head. “I’m just glad you trusted me enough to tell me how you’re feeling. We’re in this together now, okay?”

“Okay,” I whispered back, my eyes closing as I allowed myself to relax in his arms.

The fear was still there, lingering at the edges of my mind, but it didn’t feel as overwhelming now. For the first time, I felt like maybe, just maybe, I could let go of the past and embrace whatever the future held with Oscar by my side. And as we sat there together, the tension that had been building for so long finally began to melt away, replaced by a sense of hope and possibility.

The night after our conversation, I couldn't stop replaying everything in my head. I had bared my heart to Oscar, and instead of retreating, he’d held on, promising to take things slow and be there for me. It was a step forward, but the fear still lingered, waiting for the other shoe to drop. I knew that what happened next would either solidify my trust in him or shatter everything we’d been building.

Just wanna love, just wanna love on ya

A few days later, Oscar invited me over for dinner. He had planned to cook—something simple, he’d promised, since we both knew his culinary skills weren’t exactly top-notch. But it wasn’t the dinner that had me on edge; it was the feeling that this night was going to be a turning point for us.

When I arrived at his apartment, I was greeted by the smell of something delicious wafting through the air. Oscar met me at the door, a slightly frazzled but excited look on his face.

“I hope you’re ready for the best—or at least, the least disastrous—pasta you’ve ever had,” he joked, stepping aside to let me in.

I smiled, feeling a little lighter. “As long as it’s edible, I’m happy.”

We sat down to dinner, and to my surprise, the pasta was actually really good. We laughed and talked like we always did, but there was a new layer to our conversation now—an openness that hadn’t been there before. Every time our eyes met, I felt a warmth spread through me, a connection that was deepening with every word we exchanged.

After dinner, we moved to the couch, the remnants of our meal forgotten on the kitchen counter. Oscar put on some music, something soft and soothing, and we settled in, his arm draped around my shoulders. For a while, we just sat there in comfortable silence, the music filling the space between us.

“Y/N,” he said after a while, his voice low and serious, “I’ve been thinking about what you said the other night. About being scared and wanting to take things slow.”

I tensed slightly, my heart rate picking up. “Yeah?”

He nodded, his thumb gently rubbing circles on my shoulder. “I just want you to know that I’m not going anywhere. I meant what I said—I’m here, and I’m in this with you. Whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”

His words washed over me like a balm, soothing the anxiety that had been gnawing at me for so long. But there was still a part of me that needed more, that needed to see if he was really willing to stand by me, even when things got tough.

“Oscar,” I began hesitantly, “I appreciate that. I really do. But… what if things get hard? What if I freak out or push you away? I’m not always good at this, at letting people in.”

He turned slightly to face me, his eyes serious and full of warmth. “Then I’ll be here, waiting. I’m not going to push you to move faster than you’re ready for, but I won’t let you push me away, either. We’ve got something good here, Y/N, and I’m not about to give up on it.”

My chest tightened, emotion swelling up in me. It was everything I wanted to hear, but there was still that small, lingering doubt, the voice in my head whispering that it was too good to be true.

“What if… what if one day you wake up and realize you don’t want to do this anymore? That you don’t want to deal with my issues?”

He shook his head, his expression unwavering. “That’s not going to happen. I’m here because I want to be, because I care about you. We’re both going to have our moments—times when we’re scared or uncertain—but that’s part of it, right? It’s not about being perfect; it’s about being there for each other, even when things aren’t easy.”

His words hit me deep, breaking down some of the last barriers I’d been holding onto. I wanted to believe him, to trust that he meant every word. And the way he was looking at me now, with such sincerity and conviction, made it impossible not to.

“I’m trying, Oscar,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. “I’m trying to let go of all the fear and just… be with you. But it’s hard.”

He leaned in closer, his forehead resting gently against mine. “I know it is. But you don’t have to do it alone. We’ll take it one day at a time, okay? No pressure, no rush. Just us, figuring it out together.”

I closed my eyes, feeling the warmth of his breath against my skin, the steady beat of his heart against mine. “Okay,” I breathed, finally allowing myself to let go of some of the fear I’d been holding onto. “One day at a time.”

We stayed like that for a while, just holding each other, the silence between us comfortable and reassuring. For the first time in a long while, I felt a sense of peace, a quiet hope that maybe—just maybe—I could trust in this, in us.

As the evening wore on, Oscar pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine. “Do you want to stay tonight? No pressure, of course. We can just watch a movie or something.”

I hesitated, the old fears still whispering in the back of my mind, but they were quieter now, drowned out by the warmth and security I felt in his presence. “I’d like that,” I said softly, a small smile tugging at my lips. “I’d like that a lot.”

He smiled back, his eyes lighting up in that way that always made my heart skip a beat. “Good. I’ll go grab some blankets.”

As he got up to gather the blankets, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief wash over me. This was new territory for me—allowing myself to be vulnerable, to trust someone else with my heart. But with Oscar, it didn’t feel as terrifying as it once had. It felt right.

Later, as we lay on the couch, wrapped up in blankets and each other’s arms, I felt the last of my apprehension melt away. This wasn’t about perfection or guarantees; it was about trust, about taking things one step at a time, together. And for the first time, I felt like maybe, just maybe, I could really do this.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Oscar murmured against my hair, his voice laced with contentment.

“Me too,” I whispered back, closing my eyes and letting myself drift off into the comfort of his embrace.

As I lay there, surrounded by the warmth of his arms, I knew that this was just the beginning. There would be more challenges ahead, more moments of fear and doubt, but for now, I was content to take things one day at a time, knowing that I wasn’t alone in this journey. And as long as Oscar was by my side, I knew I had something worth holding onto—something real, something that could last.

Just wanna love, just wanna love on ya (uh, uh)

Ay, ay (uh, uh)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚☽˚.⋆ *ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆ ‧₊˚ ⋅✈︎ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

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