#and just the idea of people drinking or doing drugs in a place I live makes me feel like I’m gonna throw up
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sourkitsch · 1 year ago
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Two things that are true at once:
I am not nearly as mentally ill as I’ve convinced myself I am
I am far sicker than I’ve convinced my friends that I am
#:(#my friend and I were talking about post grad plans and we were talking about how our friend is gonna move in w them + their partner#and eventually we got onto how I’m not confident on my ability to pay rent on place by myself#and then they were like omg wait we were actually just looking at a place w 3 bedrooms and thinking about who else we would want to live w#and I literally brushed them off by saying ‘oh no I’m a nightmare to live with’ and they were like no omg it would be so great!!!!!!#it would not be great. and I am hoping whatever these plans are fall through so I don’t have to say anything about it#because I cannot have roommates. my friends have only encountered my ptsd twice and I managed it well enough that I’m pretty sure#no one noticed. but it’s because the vast majority of my triggers are domestic. when I sleep over my moms house I sleep in a bedroom#all the way down the hall away from everything because I cannot hear people’s footsteps by my door or I freak the fuck out#and just the idea of people drinking or doing drugs in a place I live makes me feel like I’m gonna throw up#I’ve tried living in a single dorm before and that was bad enough that I had to move off of campus my sophomore year#I just really really really don’t want to be serious and tell them I can’t#because I know it would be unfair to all of us#I hate that I view myself as a punishment for other people but I know it’s because it is. I would be that crazy roommate that’s brought up#for years afterwards. and it sucks because I like this people even if I know not to trust them#it’s also now a pattern that when I bring something up about me not being normal people think it’s a joke. which maybe it’s my fault#I really need to go back to therapy but do not have the bandwidth to go over the incest thing with a new person right now
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blkkizzat · 1 year ago
Note
please write nerd geto ! i’m sure you’ll write something amazinggg
Of course doll! Sorry this took a while I was sick most of December and January whooped my ass with classes starting again but I love love the idea of Nerd!Geto especially a Nerd!Geto with glasses so had to write a whole fic. Hope you like it :3 ♡
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Lessons in Anatomy
“Shall I give you a lesson, Y/N? Do you want me to teach you how to squirt?”
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summary: thanks to some bad choices and party girl ways you're on academic probation and can't afford to fail another test. fortunately your longtime friend nerd!geto is there to give you lessons in both economics and anatomy.
cw: college AU. fingering, squirting, dirty talk, edging, mentions of satosugu, rich party kid shit, incestuous friendships, mentions of reader x other jjk men, mentions of casual sex/hookups, mentions of drinking/drug use, reader is a dumb (and I mean dumb) bimbo, a little bit of a brat too, slight coercion, slight dubcon, virgin!suguru, soft dom!sugu, sex ed!sugu, roleplay as sugu is pre med major, some minor fluff, pet names: slut, bunny etc. a bit of a crack fic too haha. slightly black fem coded, no descriptors. a/n: LOL how this became an 8.2k fic about squirting idk chile... but special shout out to @littlemochabunni who talked me off a ledge when I was being emo and I wanted to scrap the entire thing and start over. w/c: 8.2k
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“I can’t believe I’m here and missing the biggest party of the year!”
You groaned as you scrolled through your stories to see all the pics and vids of your friends living their best drunken lives and happily binge drinking on frat row to celebrate your school’s football league championship win.
Toru just did unassisted keg stand pushups and you missed it! 
You, on the other hand, were stuck studying with Suguru in his dorm room. 
100% sober and being forced to learn 5 weeks of econ, that you never took a single note for, in one weekend. 
Well not forced exactly. 
You and Satoru had practically begged Suguru to help you study this weekend. If you failed this class you would flunk out as you were already on academic probation.
“Well I for one can’t believe you’re dumb enough to attempt to cheat off Toji and Sukuna of all people.” 
Suguru quipped back while pushing up his glasses. He snatched your phone away from you and placed it on the other side of his desk, away from you.
Not that he took offense to the remark, but he too had better things to do on a Friday night than tutoring you. Keggers definitely weren't his scene though and Suguru wouldn’t be caught dead at a party celebrating with those frat monkeys. Even if said monkeys included his childhood friends. 
However, as a pre-med student he’d much rather stay in to write his essay for the clinical research internship he was trying to get. 
“Hey! I didn’t cheat off them for the record! Toji and Sukuna said they had the hookup for the answers!”
You pouted grumbling as you tried to reach for your phone on the other side of the table only for Suguru to take it again. This time he slid it into his pockets, keeping it away from you for good.
“Urgh, it’s not my fault they got the test for ECON 230A and 230B mixed up. I didn’t even know there was a second section!”
Suguru had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at you again. The pilfered test definitely had ‘ECON 230B’ printed in big bold letters at the top. 
You all were idiots. 
Unfortunately for you, you were just a cheerleader idiot. 
The other idiots, Toji and Sukuna, dubbed the ‘The Boom Bros’, were the reason your team even won the championships in the first place. The best defensive backs your college or any college in your division have seen, ever. Not letting an opposing team score more than 10 points the entire season, there was no way in hell they were going down for that right before the championships.
That left you as the scapegoat, which was something Suguru noted that you happily took the fall for.  Although there is a very good possibility of you being a soon-to-be college dropout, your social clout was skyrocketing. 
Word spread among the popular social circles fast on how you ‘saved the big game’. 
Suguru couldn’t care less about football, though he was getting annoyed at all the texts, DMs and messages you received asking where you were. They were making you completely lose the little focus you were capable of, which is what made him confiscate your phone in the first place. 
Sighing, Suguru was pretty sure you would be competent enough to pass if you just applied yourself more to anything other than drinking and parties.
“Y/N, just try to focus on studying, please.”
You pouted, turning back to the textbook in front of you.
How did Suguru’s nerdy ass enjoy studying so much?
Studying, especially anything to do with math, gives you an ick. In fact, you were sure the only reason you graduated from high school and even got into this university was because you played 7-minutes-in-heaven with Choso at the start of senior year. 
It had been a secret double dare from Gojo but you sucked the soul out of that boy in Gojo’s closet that night. From then on, Choso pretty much did anything you wanted that year, including all your homework. Hell, he even wrote your college admissions essays and in turn you gave him some sloppy toppy here and there.
Choso was always eager to feel your soft lips on his cock, so you’re sure he could have thought of a better way for you to cheat so you didn't have to study at all and could be out partying right now. It’s just your bad luck that he was studying abroad this semester with his little brother Yuuji.
Although, even if you did flunk out you weren’t that worried. Worst case scenario if you couldn’t find a career or a husband you could always be one of Gojo’s three mistresses he said he would keep once he was older, married and had taken over his family’s company. 
He had pinky-pie-promised he would take care of you if you needed it and as one of your best friends you knew he was good for that promise. Even if he did make it while you both were partying, tripping balls off acid so hard that Satoru convinced himself your cunt could produce cotton candy. He chewed on your pussy for 2 hours straight one wild night on your group’s graduation trip where he then asked if you would be his future mistress.
But that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted that life for yourself. You liked your independence and Satoru would be alot to deal with, even with 2 other mistresses and a wife. 
Therefore, unless you wanted to resign yourself to that fate, you were stuck with Suguru as your tutor.
It’s not like you didn’t get along with Suguru, he’d been one of your closest friends since you were young along with Satoru. But as you got older your interests kind of drifted apart and you saw him less and less, especially as you got to college. 
You wanted to party and Suguru prioritized studying.
You had missed him. You wanted to have fun with him again.
And this was definitely not fun. 
Reading the same paragraph for the fifth time and retaining shit all of whatever the passage had said about ‘demand curve fluctuations’, you were ready to climb up the walls. 
You began to fidget, still in your cheer uniform from the game earlier. The material of your skirt rode up to your upper thighs when you splayed your knees out and leaned forward to lay your head on the desk face down with an exasperated yawn. 
Suguru shared in your exasperation but directed his towards you with another sigh, looking you over. His weariness at you from your inability to study causes his eyes to linger on your form longer than they should. 
Resting against his desk, your back had molded into a nice natural little arch as your tits pushed forward . Adjusting his glasses Suguru found it difficult to pull his eyes away once they landed on your thighs. Practically leering, Suguru is transfixed by the way the fabric bunched at your hips digs into your soft skin. 
He curses your university’s school colors as the next thing that caught his eye was the bright yellow cheer panties you wore that were tight enough to show the full shape of your cunt. Your panties are so skinforming that they don’t fail to give you camel toe. The indent of the slit between your fat pussy lips is on full display.
You’ve always been attractive, Suguru muses as he feels his pants slightly tighten. But it’s no mystery why you were such a slut now if these were the positions you found yourself in when alone with guys.
“Seeing something you like, Sugu baby?”
Suguru snaps his head up at your teasing to see you looking straight at him, your head still resting on his desk but has since turned to face him. The wink along with the lazy yet knowing smile forming on your cherry stained lips lets him know you know he was staring at your cunt. 
Caught red handed, Suguru rolls his eyes and scoffs as he returns back to the textbooks in front of him while you laugh. Dismissing your question entirely he changes the subject back to studying but can’t resist throwing in a little dig to take the heat off himself. 
“Y/N, can’t you just focus? You’ve barely made any progress… Or is it that you want to flunk out and be reduced to Toru’s mistress or something?”
Fuck, you forgot Suguru knew about that too. (Duh, of course he did. He was the sober one who found you both, taking care of you once your come downs had hit).
Not letting him get away with that shade, the brat in you clapped back as you returned his sarcasm back at him.
“Okay, well high school was one thing but do you want to go through college without getting any play too? Or are you satisfied just from peeking up a skirt?”
Annoyance flashes in Suguru’s eyes. He thought you had some audacity seeing as you were the one who was casually flaunting your pussy for him in the first place. Nevertheless, you continued, using Suguru as a punching bag for your current academic frustrations.
“Your pocket pussy and getting head from Toru behind the bleachers at prom doesn’t count by the way!”
Suguru pinched the bridge of his nose as his tolerance of the situation had officially bubbled over. He was tired of everyone thinking he was missing out on something just because he didn’t want to kill off brain cells partying every weekend or play STD Roulette with casual hookups. 
You bringing up prom was a low blow. It was the first time he’d ever had a drink and Toru had practically begged him. Satoru wanted to know if his head was just as good for guys as it was for girls (spoiler alert: it was).
Also, what you thought just because you fucked around alot it was actually any good?
“Yeah and getting railed by a bunch of banana brained monkey jocks, that counts Y/N? They wouldn’t know what to do with your clit even if it was an actual football.”
Suguru retorted and he watched as your eyes widened with shock then seethed with anger as you finally sat upright in the seat. 
Ding Ding! He had hit a nerve. 
“Oh and you would know what to do, cherry boy?”
Suguru knows he probably shouldn’t push it further. But like Satoru, you always knew what buttons to push to get under his skin. Suguru can’t help but to want to get under your skin as well, especially since he was never one of the ones getting under your clothes. 
“Well I can actually spell clitoris, so that already puts me at an advantage over those ball chasing monkeys. Have you ever even had a real orgasm before, Y/N?”
You started to speak but Suguru cut you off before you could.
“—and I mean one that didn’t come from tripping with Satoru or a toy? I bet you’ve never even squirted before.”
Damn. 
You resisted the urge to chew on your lip, not wanting him to know just how right he was but your immediate silence was telling. Racking your brain, you tried to find a way to get your lick back but found yourself at a loss. 
It was mostly true to be honest. 
A hot and heavy make-out session at a party would typically lead to mostly underwhelming sex and you would have to return to your dorm or wait for them to leave to finish yourself off with your rose or dildo… or both. 
Okay and sure, maybe the one and only time you did really have an intense body orgasm was the time you dropped acid with Satoru but… fuck –Wait…squirting?! Wasn’t that just pee? Gross! 
Satisfied with your small ammunition, after a pause you bit back again.
“Alright, so frat boys aren’t sex gods, tell me something I don’t know. It’s still sex Suguru—” 
You flipped your hair and crossed your legs arrogantly as you continued.
“— sex that you aren’t having, which, duh, is obvious if you think squirting is an actual thing. Because Eww nasty, I’m so not into piss-play, Sugu!”
You waited for his reply, assuring your win but Suguru just blinked at you, dumbfounded. 
The thought of you having won shatters when Suguru erupts into a fit of laughter. Hitting the table for emphasis Suguru was near howling as the glasses fell off his face and he had to clutch his sides for support, keeling over in his chair. 
Suguru couldn’t actually believe that you believed squirting was the same as urinating! 
On second thought, knowing you, this kind of checked out…
Watching Suguru in a fit of hysterics had your face burning with embarrassment as waves of self-consciousness came over you. 
To be honest, you weren’t even sure why you were feeling insecure as this was supposed to be your victory!  This was not the reaction you expected from him at all to say the least!
Just what made this so funny!? Because you didn’t want to piss yourself during sex?! 
“Sugu…”
“Sugu…”
“Hey, Suguru!!!”
Frustrated with him ignoring you and still laughing after failing to get his attention, you jumped up from your seat and marched directly in front of Suguru. Angrily you yanked his head up by his man bun. 
You were so ready to tell Suguru to go to hell for laughing at you. Even if you weren’t too sure exactly what he was laughing at you for, he was still being a jerk right now. 
However the words caught in your throat as soon as you saw his face.
Suguru’s wide grin easily illuminated the dimly lit dorm room. Tears gathered in the crinkle around his eyes and pulled into an expression of such warmth that you were reminded of all the fun times you had together goofing off over the years. You nearly forgot what it was like to see him laugh like this.
So nostalgic you almost forgot he was still laughing at your expense — almost.
“Don’t be an asshole Sugu…” 
Your voice was low, lacking any real bite as all your fire fizzled and was replaced by a pout.
Defeated, you let go of your stiff grip on his silky bun causing it to unravel and frame his face with thick black strands that flowed down past his shoulders. Although it wasn’t the first time you had seen Suguru with his hair down and no glasses, you couldn’t help but stare at him now. 
He had grown much more into his features since high school. 
College Suguru had sharper eyes, a slimmer face with a strong jawline and hair that flowed down to his chest. Not to mention his lanky boyish frame had filled out. The muscles underneath were prominent now even if he was wearing a baggy band tee and sweats. Suguru didn’t go to parties but from the looks of him he certainly didn’t miss going to the gym. 
He didn’t look much like the nerd you knew him to be right now at all.
Granted, you were still a bit salty with Suguru but didn’t want to fight with him anymore. Especially given the way his dark eyes sparkled as he gazed up at you, your heart nearly skipping a beat as if you were really only noticing him now for the first time. 
Sniffling, a cocktail of emotions swirls in you. Moisture pricks in the corners of your eyes despite yourself.
Suguru, who was also staring at you, took notice right away.
“Hey Bunny, I’m sorry...” 
You relaxed a bit hearing the old nickname he and Satoru gave to you back in middle school, you couldn’t remember the last time he called you that. 
Grabbing your hand in his much larger one, Suguru gave your palm a gentle rub with his thumb. His hand was surprisingly soft. 
Despite his sweet gesture, your brow twitched slightly at Suguru’s soft chuckles, still continuing albeit less frequently, at your expense.
“It’s just that… I dunno, I guess I would have expected you to have experienced it at least once before Y/N, it’s definitely not pee.” 
You huffed. You still weren’t convinced it wasn’t pee but now you were more curious than anything.
“And how do you know that Suguru? You’ve made a girl squirt before?” 
There was no sarcasm in your tone this time, just doubt since he would have told Toru and Toru definitely would have told you if Suguru was getting play from someone. 
Suguru to his credit wasn't discouraged though. 
If anything, he seemed to gain confidence on the matter now that you weren’t fighting him, rather looking to him for knowledge, for the first time tonight.
“Well, no, but I did get a 4.0 out of Anatomy last semester and unlike you I actually paid attention in Sex Ed. Also, just because I’m a virgin, doesn’t mean I’m completely clueless. There is a little thing called the internet, Y/N.”
You mouthed an ‘O’— a bit ashamed that you actually thought because he was a virgin who didn’t party he was merely just sitting around clueless to everything about sex.
But what could just reading textbooks and the internet teach him over actual experience? 
Then again, Suguru was practically a genius, if he was saying something was possible you could be sure it was. Still you couldn’t stop your mind racing as you considered his previous words.
You were the one with all the experience so you should have experienced it before, right? 
Maybe the guys you hooked up with weren’t the problem then? Maybe you were. 
“What if– w-what if I’m the problem Suguru? What if I just can’t?”
Tugging you closer, his fingers now interlacing with yours, Suguru’s other hand settled on your hip giving you a warm squeeze. You were so close to him now that his chin almost rested on your belly and Suguru was craning his head up to you with a small sly grin still on his face.
“It’s not a matter of can or can’t Bunny, you just don’t know how. Shall I give you a lesson, Y/N?” 
“Do you want me to teach you how to squirt?”
You felt a bit lightheaded as you considered the words that just came out of Suguru’s mouth. You weren’t shy at all when it came to matters of sex and you had the reputation to prove it. Yet your stomach still did a little flip at Suguru propositioning you. 
Sure you were a bit of a slut and had at least made out with almost every guy in your group of friends, but not Suguru. Not for lack of attraction though, you had teased Suguru in the past but he had always been the responsible one, like an older brother or protector. 
Besides, Satoru was always so needy for his attention. There weren’t often times you were with Suguru alone and he never seemed all too interested in sex either, at least when directly compared to a horn dog like Satoru. 
You didn’t actually know if he was serious though so you decided to make light of it, giggling.
“If you wanted me to pop your cherry Sugu, all ya had to do was ask.”
Suguru smiled back at you, he shook his head chuckling. 
“I’ll only need to use my fingers, Y/N. Besides, this is about you. What I really want is for you to not flunk out, I would miss you, ya know?” 
You try to keep a poker face but you couldn’t help feeling giddy at the fact you were extremely happy to hear Suguru would miss you. You had already missed him and combined with the inkling of new feelings stirring in your chest from seeing your old friend in a new light you feel adrenaline begin to pump through you as you brim with nervous energy. 
“Let’s think of this as a study break from Economics. You had to miss the party but we can still have some fun. You might even learn something for once, eh?”
His hand left your hip in order to push the books and papers on his desk aside and patted the wooden surface. The hand still intertwined with yours guided you over.
“Hop on up, Bunny. It’s time for your anatomy lesson.”
You look at the desk and pause as if you are unsure, biting your lip. 
Thoughts of finally hooking up with Suguru excited and the fact you were nervous whether you would disappoint him if you couldn’t actually squirt flood your mind at once. However when you meet Suguru’s eyes and feel gentle reassuring pressure on your hand your body is already moving towards the desk, making the decision for you.
Your heart is already thudding in your eardrums by the time you settle on top of Suguru’s study desk. Suguru immediately shifts into instructor mode, picking his glasses up off the floor and adjusting them back on his face. 
He directs you to lean back and relax and soon your shoulders are against the wall behind the desk as you are propped up on your elbows. 
You yelp as Suguru startles you by grabbing your hips with a firm squeeze and scooches you flush to his pelvis. Feet propped up to the edge as well all you needed were the stirrups and you could have been at the gyno's office, giggling now at the thought.
“Sugu, you can’t be serious. I feel like you’re about to give me a pap, not an orgasm.”
Suguru’s mouth twitches up into a smirk.
“There’s a reason they have you lie in this position, makes for easier access. If you’re going to squirt I’m going to need to find that slutty lil’ gland of yours and I don’t mean your clit, Bunny.” 
You huffed but you were otherwise agreeable. 
You couldn’t deny you were a slut especially not now with your legs spread open wide exposing your bright yellow cheer-panty clad cunt to Suguru. Laid out like this, the thin layer of spandex is stretched to its absolute limits causing your chubby pussy lips to poke out of the sides. This does not go unnoticed by Suguru who hadn’t taken his eyes off your lower half since you initially spread your legs. 
His Adam's apple bobbed heavily as he swallowed and breathed deeply at the sight of you.
Suguru can barely believe he’s really about to do this. 
If anything he is overconfident in his abilities, despite his lack of actual on-the-job experience so to speak. From all his studying as a pre-med student, books, health articles and yes even porn, Suguru could say he had an in-depth understanding of human anatomy and bodily functions. 
But that didn’t mean he didn’t need to calm himself enough to stop his balmy palms from sweating further at the reality of finally being allowed to actually touch you.
“I’ll be in your care then, Doctor Geto.”
You make a lighthearted joke with a nervous laugh to ease your own anticipation. However the joke has the opposite effect for Suguru and he snaps his head up as if you had activated something in him. 
Suguru’s fiery expression sends shivers down your back. Although as quickly as it appeared it was gone again, replaced by his trademark comforting grin. Even so your fingers pressed a bit deeper into the wood beneath you, steadying your frazzling nerves.
“Well aren’t you a lucky one then, being my first patient ever. You’ll be a good little pussy and listen to me, won't you?”
Suguru is looking down again, speaking directly to your cunt who is tingling in response to his voice. It’s fucking lewd. But then again so is the studious scrutiny of Suguru’s eyes so single-mindedly transfixed to your cunt you wonder if his leer alone could dissolve the cheer panties right off of you. 
You let go of the breath you didn’t realize you were holding once Suguru finally starts touching you. 
But not your pussy just yet. 
His long thick fingers are surprisingly cool on your skin as they press into your warmth, ghosting just above your knee on both sides. 
Gentle strokes travel down along your inner thighs and up again to lightly tickle the backs of your legs. You tense and squirm beneath him when your eyes meet Suguru’s own.
“Sugu–”
“Patience, Bunny. It’s no wonder you never cum if you’re so used to diving right in. You need to relax first. This won’t happen if you aren’t relaxed, can you try to do that for me?”
You nodded back at him, yet the goosebumps left in the wake of Suguru’s soft caresses had you trembling. So used to rushed thrusts and hurried grasps, you don’t know how to just take it in the moment. 
You had never been touched this delicately before.
Already oversensitive, if anything you felt like the one who was the virgin in this situation.
If Suguru notices, he says nothing. His touches are progressively firmer, the light pets morphing into soft squeezes and circular strokes of the hand once he traverses closer to your core.
“You know Bunny, the inner thigh area is an erogenous zone? Can you say that, Y/N? Ero-gen-ous?
Suguru pronounces the word out for you as his heavy muscular hands make their way to the crease of your inner thighs, his hands once more perilously close to your pussy as he pauses looking up at you again expectantly.
“Say it, Y/N.”
Your cunt clenches at his command and it leaves you stuttering. Heat blossoms across your cheeks from how needy you sound choking out the word. 
“Er-Ero-gennn-ous.”
Suguru rewards you by moving his hands again but to your dismay they pass your core to dig into your hips, his thumbs swirling over your hip bones. He leans his body in closer to you and you break eye contact to turn your head away lest you really start falling apart in his hands.
“Good girl. Ya know, you’re quite bright with the right motivation, Bunny.”
Puffs of moist heat glide over the tip of your ear as his lips are only millimeters away from your skin. His words stimulate a deep in your gut reaching all the way down to your toes, trying to resist how much he’s affecting you. 
Suguru chuckles at your bashfulness.
“Are you always this shy, Bunny? Or does that honor just belong to me?”
You whimpered. You aren’t sure how you got here. 
How was Suguru, a nerdy virgin, making you come undone like this? You didn’t know where the darkness that crept up on the edges of his eyes was coming from either, yet you squirm in anticipation despite yourself. 
You loved it. 
Always a know-it-all, so you would hate to admit it outloud, but Suguru was already making you feel more excitement than any frat boy you had been with. Lack of hands-on experience be damned. You’re losing it as his lips sensually flutter against your collarbone. 
“Y-you s-said only fingers, S-Sugu!”
Your voice lacks any real reprimand as you are arching up into his touches and quivering for more. Suguru obliges as he alternates between delicate nips and open mouth kisses sinfully marking you. Groaning into the crook of your neck Suguru savors the lingering taste of your perfume and the natural saltiness of your skin. 
Returning his attention back to your ear Suguru’s breath trails over your skin until your lobe is once again trapped between his moist lips. He lightly tugs it between his teeth before giving it a sharp bite.
“AHH!”
The sting sends a jolt of electricity shooting straight into your cunt and a strangled noise escapes your lips. Your knees are starting to buckle but Suguru’s quick reflexes stopped your legs from clamping together all the way, bracing you. 
Taking your hands and leading them to the backs of your thighs, Suguru is making you steady yourself back into a spread position for him and gives you strict instructions not to move.
“Good girl… This should be more than obvious now Bunny, but there are erogenous zones all over your body that connect to the pleasure nerve endings here.”
Suguru’s voice is silky as his index finger tows long strokes over the slit of your clothed cunt and applies pressure on your clit for emphasis. Whines fumble out of you when Suguru switches from steady swipes to idle flicks with pads of his fingers and your legs twitch again once more.
“It's important to simulate multiple areas simultaneously and I only have two hands, don’t I? You don’t mind Y/N do you?”
You still can’t bear to look Suguru in the eyes, much less respond vocally so you just shake your head. 
“Feeling good, Bunny? Which do you like better, the strokes or the flicks?”
Your eyes squeeze shut from Suguru demonstrating both over your covered cunt. You try not to tear up but the amount of autonomy you had in this situation was new to you. Embarrassed and vulnerable you’re realizing that in spite of all your sexual experiences you still don’t feel comfortable expressing your needs.
“Hey, Y/N–”
Suguru clutches your face in his massive grip, squishing both your cheeks with a single hand and forcing your glassy eyes back on him. It was hard to focus on what he was saying anyway while you cooed from the feather-like circles he had been drawing on your clit.
“–you have to talk to me. This and sex in general, is just another form of communication. It won't work well and you definitely won’t squirt unless you can express to your partner what feels good and what doesn’t.”  
You are sure he can feel the heat gathering in your cheeks radiating off your skin.
“Stop t-teasing S-Sugu… I-I know you can tell it’s good.”
Suguru eases his hold on you, his smirk deepening at your complaint.
“Oh I can, tell Bunny. Believe me. Your pussy, she’s so sensitive no matter how much you try to hide it from me. But I still need to hear it from your mouth regardless.”
The hand playing with your cunt splays out and Suguru fully cups you in his hands. The pulsing of your clit vibrates against his palm even through your panties.
“If you’re going to be a slut Bunny, at least be a vocal one. Be a slut for your own pleasure...this fat n’pretty cunt of yours deserves it.” 
Suguru’s mouth is mere millimeters above yours, floating suspended both your lips are parted as you’re sharing the same air. The dizzying effect of breathing him in only intensifies with his words.
“Or perhaps you just get off on the idea of being free use?”
Suguru chuckles but doesn’t make you answer that question in favor of pulling back from you to inspect the large wet spot you soaked through your cheer panties from all of his taunting.
Pleased he gives your clothed pussy a smack, the moisture underneath the flimsy fabric evident in the soft squelchy sound that fills the room.
Smack, another moist sound echoes from your cunt.
“Oh, looks like she’s ready. This mouth down here is so much more talkative, Bunny.”
Hooking his fingers in the fabric Suguru peels your soaked cheer panties to the side, whistling at the thick strings of your essence that lingered between your cunt and your panties.
“So fucking wet, the prettiest most obedient lil’ pussy, aren’t you?”
A fleeting thought of sassing Suguru since yours is the first real pussy he has actually even seen up close dissipates as soon as your entrance flutters against his two thick fingers that rub over your uncovered opening. 
Involuntary bucking your hips, the burning urge to feel him inside you is all you care about now, pride be damned. 
You want him.
“Sugu–”
“–Shhh!”
Suguru cuts your pleas short.
“Don’t interrupt Doctor Geto when he’s speaking with his favorite patient, Bunny… Your nasty lil’ cunt is really begging for her treatment, isn’t she?”
You pout at him, quieting down while Suguru rewards your submission by slipping into your folds once more, entering fully past your entrance and into your gummy walls. It’s only a single digit inside you but your pussy is hungrily sucking him in deeper, trying to devour his middle finger whole. 
Suguru murmurs intelligible obscenities from how warm and tight you are. He needs to find that spot. 
Your hands struggle to keep your legs from quaking when you feel his finger, longer, thicker and far more pointed than your own, bottom out before languidly dragging delicious pressure back through you, exploring your walls in search of–
“Found her.”
Your ass jerks up and nearly off the desk entirely when his finger roughly prods into the firm spongy spot within your cunt you didn’t even know existed until now. 
“FAH-FAH-FUHHCKKKKKKKKK–”
Your voice cracks and your vision blurs with tears that finally are cascading down your face smudging your mascara. Your reaction has you missing the wide-eyed look of amazement Suguru gives you utterly entranced by the way your entire body quivered from just a solid tap to the gland. 
Suguru had expected an intense reaction. He’d seen and read about how temporary control of muscles and spasms were common when abusing this spot in women. But the one thing textbooks, articles, nor porn could prepare him for was how fucking sexy you’d be while he was doing it. 
The ache in his pants has him groaning as he has to lean nearly his entire weight into you in order to get your lower half to settle back down on the desk. Pausing his movements inside of you, Suguru allows you to catch your breath.
Still the heavy pad of his finger is weighing down on you with enough force you still need to suck in your breaths, barely able to squeak out words.
“W-Wh-What is th-that S-Suguuu?!”
Suguru tells you not to worry about the actual name. It’s not very sexy, so you won’t remember it and it’s important that you do, so eventually he tells you to just call it the g-spot. 
You groan at the loss of pressure on your g-spot when Suguru removes himself from you entirely in order to bring the finger that had been inside you to his lips. Watching him savoring the essence of your sweet cunt on his tongue, you couldn’t take any longer, finding your voice. 
“Su-Surugu, N-Need–N-need more. P—please!”
Suguru obliges, slapping the fat of your ass teetering off the desk and lifts you as his knee slides under your hip. Leaning into you further, Suguru throws one of your shapely legs over his shoulder. 
“Oh, you found your voice Bunny? Then tell me what my patient wants. Where does Doctor Geto need to touch you?”
“M-my pussy– fuck– p-please Sugu, wanna feel good there. She’ll be so good for you!”
Suguru’s pleased smile is your only warning before two of his large fingers plunge-in and bottom out inside your cunt, knocking against your cervix. Your jaw completely slacks as you groan at the sudden intrusion, allowing Suguru the perfect invitation to your mouth. 
Wasting no time, Suguru crashes his lips into yours. The kiss is sloppy, hot and needy as any cries that attempted to leave you were drowned out in the wet cavern of Suguru’s mouth. 
Fuck, you’re greedy as hell. 
The kiss makes Suguru’s head spin and he loses himself in your sinful hunger as you wrap your arms around his neck and begin to dominate the kiss, sucking on his tongue. Soon Suguru finds himself groaning against your lips and slowly rocking his cock into the back of your thigh. Fuck, your body was too responsive, too eager for him to slut you out on his fingers. 
Suguru couldn’t lose sight of the goal though, you needed to squirt so he needed to take back control.
Catching you off guard, he bullies a third finger– his ring finger, into your cunt as well. Breathless you break the kiss, your eyes sinking back into your head as you meet the thrusts of his fingers with the roll of your hips.  
You aren’t able to control the way your body convulses as you writhe against Suguru. His massive body weighed over you as his hair fell in front of his face, hiding his crazed expression from you. 
Suguru is also panting as he vigorously pumps the appendages into you. In and out, swirling them Suguru’s fingers take special care to zigzag sweet torment over your g-spot. 
You’ve only felt the slight ghostings of this feeling before, nothing so pointed and focused on attacking this spot, while stretching your pussy so well in the process. You want– no need, to feel Suguru’s cock inside you next. 
You could tell he must be huge. Heat was radiating off his girthy bulge as it twitched up against your ass cheek even through Suguru’s joggers. The thought causes the hot iron coil in your stomach to tense to its breaking point, begging for release.
Suguru notices.
“A-Are you gonna squirt for me, Y/N?”
For the first time his own voice is ragged, set on keeping his promise to you.
“S-Sugu, I-I– I want to but I–” 
Your words catch in your throat as tears that are salty to the taste freely flow past your lips down your chin. You are unsure of what exactly to beg Suguru for even if you could do more than unintelligible babbles at the moment. 
It’s coming– you panic— this feeling!
“W-w-ait! Nooo, S–Su–Sugu… I’m g-gonna pee. S-stop, p-puhleaseee!
Your hands slip against Suguru’s shoulders as you try in vain to push him away. So fearful that Suguru was wrong and you may actually piss all over him and his desk. 
Suguru isn’t having it though, backhanding your clit with a harsh smack, his knuckle bullying into your bud. 
The slap was followed by two more in quick succession, his other hand never slowing inside of you. Disregarding your pleas Suguru ventures even deeper into your guts while pressing down on your lower belly.
“I told you it’s not pee, Bunny. You don’t listen very well, do you?”
Suguru hiss at you, the stress of holding himself back as you fall apart on his fingers was nearly too much, he needed you to lay back, be good for him and take it.
“I-I’m s-sowy, Dr. Geto but– I– wanna–.”
You sniffle back more tears, which has Suguru calming himself in order to soothe you again.
“Shh Bunny, it’s okay– now ask your doctor nicely for what you need. Go on.” 
At this point cuming, squirting, whatever Suguru you requires of you in order to release the feral sensations building within you is an essential need to live as much as taking your next breath.
“Doctor Geto, please let me cum! Sugu please! G-gonna s-squirt, gonna squirt s-so g-good for you!!”
“That’s right baby you will… Now squirt on me Bunny, make a pretty mess all over my fucking fingers.”
Timing a particularly hard jolt to your g-spot with simultaneous pressure from over your belly, has you tipping over the edge. Back arching you feel the gratifying release as you squirt hard, fluids spurting all over Suguru’s fingers and spilling down his forearms. The saccharine pleasure of it all is buzzing throughout every cell in your body as your eyes flutter back into your skull. 
Your entire body feels like an extension of your pussy, pulsing in tune with your cunt and you don’t realize you are even screaming until Suguru’s mouth is on top of yours once again. 
Suguru is tongue fucking your wails all the way back into the depths of your throat until they are mere raspy gurgles.
Riding out your orgasm you protest with choked cries as Suguru's hand abruptly leaves your cunt. Yet before you can process what’s happening you’re mewling loudly again once you feel his lips attacking your cunt. Sucking your clit between his lips, his own groans vibrate into your core making you all the more sensitive. 
Your hands fly to him again, tangling up in his long raven locks and trying to push his head away. 
Too much! You were far too sensitive right now for him to be lapping at your over stimmed cunt like a mad man.
“Stawwp–”
Your slurs fall on deaf ears as Suguru continues, only pulling back briefly to shush you.
“Haven’t got it all out. This pretty pussy is so fucking nasty she can give a little more, can’t you baby? I know she can.”
Suguru is speaking to you but he sounds a million miles away, focused only on your cunt as he returns to suckling on your clit, his teeth scraping lightly. He knows your pussy will give him the answer he is looking for soon enough. 
The iron grip his arms have around your thighs holds you down allowing Suguru unimpeded access to dribble globs of his spit into your folds. His tongue flattens over your clit and his eyes smolder into yours before diving back into your pussy. 
So close to cumming yet again your thick thighs clench around him as you unintentionally smother his face deeper into your core. Suguru ignores any need to take breaths, your cunt being the only sustenance needed as he rams his tongue further into your convulsing hole. 
Shaking his head around sloppily, Suguru is goading your cunt into giving him more and more. His tongue is a mere worshiper in the temple between your thighs, begging your leaking pussy to give him the last morsels of your squirt. 
Not having the willpower to deny him, your pussy gushes out more onto his tongue and shamelessly he swallows all of it as you cum all over again.
By the time Suguru detaches himself from your cunt he looks almost as wrecked as you: hair is matting to the sides of his face, his glasses are clouded with slick and your juices are dripping down his chin. 
Although, now that Suguru has had a taste of you he is left craving more. Not letting a single drop of your juices go to waste Suguru is ferally slurping the drippings off your thighs and lowering his head to even zamboni the overflow of your essence off the desk beneath you. Ravenous with thirst for you Suguru is even using his mouth to squeeze out any droplets he could retrieve from your soaked cheer panties. 
You on the other hand could only heave as you gasped for breath. Your legs are still twitching in the after shock of your intense orgasm and squirt session. Dizzy and dazed you feel yourself fading out, unsure of how much time has passed or what Suguru was still doing between your legs until the familiar ring of your phone slowly guides you back into the present. 
Wiping his face with the back of his hand Suguru stands up and pulls your phone out of his pocket.
The phone is still ringing as he looks down at it and snickers. 
“It’s Toru, Y/N. Answer it.”
You give Suguru a frowny pout. You were barely conscious right now, you couldn't handle a drunkenly energetic Satoru. 
Seeing you making no attempts to move, Suguru answers it for you and Satoru’s voice overflows through the speakerphone.
“Y/N! Y/N! Where are ya at!? We need the beer pong queen to make her appearance, I need a partner! Nanamin is too good to beat without you!”
Suguru held the phone out to you but you could respond in labored puffs.
“Y/N is taking a study break, a bit tired after her lesson.”
“–Oh it's you Suguru!”
You end up tuning Satoru out as he’s begging Suguru to come to the party with you which you already knew wasn’t going to happen even if he didn’t just make you squirt all over him. 
Willing yourself to sit up, your body is  immediately revitalized when your eye is drawn to how bricked Suguru currently is in his dark gray sweats. 
Suguru arches his brow in amusement as you pull him forward by the band of his joggers. You hurriedly fumble to untie them, pushing them and his boxers down to reveal his hard cock. 
The sight of it nearly has you squeeing.
You practically have hearts in your eyes as you gawk at Suguru’s cock, it’s the prettiest you’ve ever seen. The way his girth swayed in front of you as pre marbles on the tip has you openly salivating. To say his length and thickness is above average, was a massive understatement. 
You can’t estimate a size but you know he is huge as you eye the a large vein on the underside of his cock that seemed to weigh him down even though fully erect. You squirmed at the thought of that vein scraping inside your pussy as Suguru pounded you.
You need to feel it. Now.
Nevertheless, it isn’t until Suguru snaps his fingers in front of your face did you realize Gojo was now addressing you again through the phone.
“Y/N! You there?! I failed with Sugu! He’s lame! But you’ll be here soon right???”
A sharp contrast to just 30 mins earlier but partying was the last thing on your mind now. You needed to get Satoru off the phone and Suguru’s cock inside you expeditiously. 
“Mhm-nh, Toru sorry, I–I really need to get a good grade. I need Sugu to tutor me a bit more. C-Can’t afford to flunk out!”
Although you had teased Suguru earlier about popping his cherry, you didn’t care if he was a virgin now. He had more than proved himself despite his lack of hands-on sexual experience. 
You weren’t really paying attention to Satoru any longer as Suguru motions for you to lay back again. Readily, you get in position returning your legs to a stirrup pose. 
Suguru rewards your obedience with his cock slapping against your clit.
“Mmmm…FUHH-CK-AH!”
You don’t care that Satoru is still on the line as Suguru is slipping his cock under your cheer panties, rubbing his fat tip along your folds. His cock sandwiched between your messy cunt and the soaked fabric has Suguru groaning at the crazy sensation, he could bust like this for sure.
“Huh? Oh.. OHHHHHH! Haha, I see, I see! Suguru’s lessons are the best, aren’t they Y/N?”
You’re openly moaning now. Barely registering Toru’s words as Suguru grunts, increasing the pace he’s bullying his cockhead across your clit.
“Y-yeah, the besssst-ahhh!” 
Satoru, feeling more than a bit left out, starts pouting over the phone.
“Hey, no fair playing with Bunny without me Sugu! Let me join ne–” 
Suguru abruptly cuts Satoru’s complaints short, hanging up on him while still rutting his tip over your pussy. His pre leaking out in globs and mixing with your own cum still dripping from you.
He wanted you all to himself, for now at least.
Satoru could fuck off.
“Gawwd Sugu–just fuck m–”
You abruptly stop as your face falls in realization when you feel his warm cum pour over your mound and into your cheer panties. 
Suguru is spilling so much of his thick load into you it's even coming out the sides of your cheer panties and running down into the crack of your ass. A few more jerks of his cock through your folds and he is quickly pulling back to tuck his softening length back into his sweats.
“N-no,no no no S-Sugu! Suguru! I-t’s okay you came fast but please— fuck me. I’ll even let you raw me and cum inside puhleaseeee Sugu– need to squirt again all over your cock!”
You don’t know the kind of willpower it takes Suguru to refuse you. 
Probably one of the hardest things he’s done in his life, especially as fresh tears trickle from your eyes and he knows you’d be crying just as adorably on his cock. You were too sexy, too perfect and he wanted to fuck you just as badly as he knew you wanted him to.
BUT– more importantly he wanted to enjoy you more than for a quick fuck and if he indulged you now, he couldn’t promise he wouldn’t be relentlessly tearing up your sweet slutty pussy all night. 
If you didn’t start studying for real you were definitely going to get kicked out of school and he can’t have that, especially not now after this. 
Masking his own lust with a stern instructor voice Suguru chastises you as he ties his hair back onto a bun and begins to give his glasses a proper cleaning before adjusting the books and papers on his desks around you back into their correct piles.
“Absolutely out of the question. Now be a good girl and pull up your panties, Y/N. We have a lot of ground to cover tonight.”
Sticky with Suguru’s cum, frustrated and still horny you groaned loudly but obeyed. You knew Suguru meant business. 
You hoped if you listened to him well enough you’d get what you wanted by the end of the night. It would suck for you to suffer through studying but it was the best motivation you had in literal years. 
Unfortunately for you, Suguru, focused on the bigger picture, had a larger goal in mind.
“Only smart sluts get dick, Bunny. You’d better get an A on that exam Monday if you really want this cock.”
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© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2024. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ.
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a/n: I would be willing to write a part 2 (some time in the future) of y/n popping Sugu cherry or even y/n getting double teamed by 'The Boom Bros' as a 'thank you' for taking the fall for them if there was interest. I'm kind of fond of this little college AU.
Reblog for an anatomy lesson from Nerd!Geto but likes and comments are also appreciated as always!
NEXT is back to my own ficcys! Upcoming: The Nursery - Yakuza!Toji x Y/N - teaser/taglist: ╰┈➤here. Delays cause I've been without my adhd meds and getting the first part of the fic beta'd for once but I FINALLY got them today and was able to finish this fic so hopefully I can get back on track! send me good vibes y'all!
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zyafics · 10 months ago
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PLAY FAKE | 02
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MASTERLIST (Series)
Pairing — Rafe Cameron x Female Reader .ᐟ
Summary — When Rafe needs to secure a girlfriend for his father to see him as a viable candidate for Cameron Development, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.
Content — 18+, smut, angst, depictions of jealousy + aggression, emotional turmoil, mild descriptions of violence, and usage of drugs.
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You didn't want to ask Rafe for help.
You never like doing it in general. The concept is foreign to you and it makes your skin crawl with a sense of dread, but you were desperate.
He hasn't come back to your bar in a while; probably off finding a new replacement for a fake girlfriend. Before, you hadn't given it much thought. You did decline. However, now, you wish he hadn't found one yet. Now, the offer sounds appetizing given the situation you're in.
You need to get in contact with him. You knew that showing up to the Tannyhill estate would raise questions but you didn't know where he would be. An idea suddenly popped up in your head and you decided to scroll through social media and find the nearest Kook party. You found one, just uploaded fifteen minutes ago, at Topper's house.
Parking in the street, you stare at the party in full swing. It has been a while since you've been to a party—too focused on working full-time at Sailor and taking care of your siblings—and the idea of going in unnerves you. You were still in uniform, well, it's something you try to wear everyday to get tips. A simple black crop top and a mini skirt. You find it ironic that you were at least dressed for the part.
Leveling some confidence, you push open the creaky door of your old car and head inside. It is absolutely crowded with people, with girls and guys drinking and dancing outside in the yard, near the pool, on the porch. Your eyes glaze over every single one of them, trying to find the one person you hope would be here.
You find Rafe near the back porch of the mansion. He's with a couple of his buddies, Topper being among them, and a girl on his arm as he holds a beer with the same hand. You weren't surprised in the slightest. This was his plan after all. You were just surprised by the feeling in your stomach.
The lick of jealousy you didn't understand where it came from.
You step up. His friends were the first to notice you, scanning over your body that you wish you had worn a jacket over yourself. When you are just in front of him, his gaze finally focuses and meets your gaze.
"Can we talk?" You ask, sparing no attention to the girl on him.
He scoffs, "fuck off."
Of course he's going to be an asshole. You didn't bother with entertaining his comment by grabbing his arm, pulling him up. You knew you didn't have the strength to take him completely so you were pleasantly surprised when he assisted and got up. He even pushed the girl to the side as you dragged him off to somewhere quiet.
Well, as quiet as the live party can be.
"What do you want?"
His words are sharp and harsh, but you expected nothing less. You figured something happened—that's why he entertains his vices, right?—and plus, you told him that you wanted nothing to do with him. If anything, he has a bit of justification to be pissed.
But that doesn't mean you would accept it.
"I was going to talk to you about your offer, but seeing as you're being too much of an ass, I guess I should come back another time," you snap, turning around to head out because fuck him. You weren't going to take it. You had other things to do. You would be forgiving, perhaps, if he actually talked to you about his problem but to be a dick off the bat? Not a chance in hell.
"Wait," he grabs your arm before you move far and this contrasts the strength you hold. One hand and a lazy attempt to hold you in place. "What do you want?"
He said that somewhat nicer.
You turn back with a glare, contemplating what to do, before remembering what's at stake. You're already here. Might as well get it over with.
"I'll do it." You say, your voice coming out smaller than you intended. It’s so embarrassing to ask for help. It feels even more so to backtrack into something you said you couldn't—wouldn't—do. "Be your fake girlfriend, I mean."
The corner of his lips quirks into an amused smile. Even in his drunk state, where his blond hair is darkened from the humidity of the space and his eyes glossed over, you can't help but admit how attractive he is. "Couldn't stay away, could you?"
"I'm not trying to be the next Mrs. Cameron," you snap, feeling the need to clarify. "But, I do need the payout."
His eyes narrow. "Thought you didn't want it?"
"I don't," you answer. "It's something else."
He tilts his head to the side, studying you. "What?"
Sighing, you wished you could talk somewhere more private. But, this truly is the best place you can get him. "When you get your father's company and start doing all the Kook bullshit of hosting charity events, galas, and dinners, I want you to use Sailor as your drink caterer."
It sounded like a good deal when you thought of it. You didn't want the money because you don't know how long this little facade is going to last. You needed something stable. You need something that would benefit you in the long-run. Since Sailor has been slipping off the profit margins and you've been dealing with some trouble regarding its ownership, you figured the business from all the catering would boost it up. It would give you status and credit. It would benefit you long after this engagement with Rafe ends.
His eyes look thoughtful of the idea. You wonder how he's calculating, how he's weighing the options about whether to accept your negotiation or to decline—telling you he already found a replacement. You hope it wasn't the latter. You needed this.
"No."
You clench your jaw. Of course. The one time you sought out help, instead of cleaning up the mess yourself, you got shut down. It's embarrassing.
"Fine." You say, ripping your arm out of his grasp and heading straight to the exit. You want to leave as soon as possible and use the time you should've spent going here to actually come up with a solution. It was a wasted effort on your end. You make a mental note of that.
Just a few steps short of the exit, some guy nearby grabs your arm and holds you in place. "Where you going, pretty?" He slurs his words, his eyes cascading down your body that you wished you pulled down the length of your skirt. "I didn't get the chance to talk to you."
You try to rip your arm off of his but his grip is firm. "Leave me alone."
"Come on, pretty," he gets closer, his intoxication reeking from his breath that you had to turn your head to avoid the smell. "I can make you feel real good."
Your hand clenched by your side while the other places a palm directly on his chest, trying to place some distance between you and the stranger before you commit to your next move. "If you don’t leave me alone—"
It happened in a flash. One minute he's holding you, the second he's getting knocked back with a punch delivered straight on the mouth.
You look up to see Rafe, his knuckles clenched and redden while the beer he was cradling had dropped on the ground into a million broken pieces. His breathing heavy while his eyes are a little distant, lagged out.
"Rafe," you call out, but before he gets the chance to face you, the drunk stranger comes staggering back with a punch in return. The crowd gasps and quickly moves out of the way as a circle forms, Rafe and the man trading swings.
No one is helping them. No one is attempting to. Rafe is significantly more drunk than the stranger, his footing is slightly off, and the drunkard is getting in more decks on Rafe's face.
When Rafe tries to duck from a delivery, the guy does directly to his stomach and it causes him to topple over with a grunt.
Having enough, you step forward and grab the stranger's shoulder. He turns around with a look of confusion—just in time for you to deck him as hard as your hand can swing, right in the face.
"Shit!" You swear under your breath, the blow rippling back and returning straight to your fist, aching.
The stranger staggers back, his back hitting the floor while you grab Rafe. You don't know where you're going, you don't know the layout of this house, but pushing through the crowd, you find an empty bedroom and slam the door close with a lock.
Thankfully, it had a bathroom attached to it. You set Rafe on the mattress as you flick the lights on and search for the cabinets for any aid. Rafe's bottom lip is busted, there's a cut on one of his brows, and bruising forming against his jawline. You don't even want to think about the mess on his knuckles.
Finding a first aid kit, you step back to see Rafe laid out against the mattress, his eyes closed. You rush to his side, afraid he has a concussion and he's falling asleep.
"Rafe!" You shout, hitting his cheeks with the back of your hand in light taps, causing his eyes to flutter open. "You can't do that."
Willing himself back to a sitting position with your assistance, you set the first aid kit to the side as you attempt to help him. Using your hands to cradle his face, you assess the damages.
"Where'd you learn to punch like that?" He asks, the heat of his gaze follows you as you remove your touch.
You shrug. "You need to learn two things growing up in The Cut," you hold up a finger, "how to deliver a good right hook,"
You pause for a moment.
Impatiently, he prompts. "And?"
You hold up his gold signet ring and his watch. "How to take advantage of a drunk."
He scoffs, snatching his things out of your grasp as you laugh, releasing some tension in your shoulders. "Pogue." He sneers.
"Kook." You retort, but there's a lightness in your tone.
Rafe says nothing as you return to your search through the aid kit. When you find what you were looking for, you start on his face, first cleaning the cut around his brow.
He hisses at the sting, but allows you to continue. It was an awkward position to be in, sitting beside him as you try to clean the damage, and he must've noticed how irritated you were getting with his constant shifts away from the pain. Without a word, he grabs your waist and pulls you into his lap with one swoop, both legs on either side of his waist as his hands settle on the small of your back.
"Better?" He questions, raising a brow.
You don't say anything, attempting to adjust your skirt rising up to your hips, before you nod.
Cleaning the wound, you tilt your head to examine what your next step should be. It's hard to figure out because the bruise is slowly forming and while the cut may be small right now, it's going to be nasty tomorrow.
To ease some tension of the silence, you prompt with a conversation. "You got into another fight with your dad?"
He stiffens under you, clenching his jaw. "What makes you say that?"
You feel his eyes trained on your face, but you refuse to acknowledge it. "Because you're out here getting drunk instead of getting wasted at my bar."
Rafe smirks. "Miss me?"
"No, it was good for business." You say, matter-of-fact, and the look on his face dies off. You feel guilty. Adding on, you rectify, "and, you would've had someone to talk to. I don't think the people around here are offering that."
He says nothing, watching you work. You exchanged the bloodied pads for some ointment.
"It's just about Sarah again." He mutters, almost like he didn't want you to hear but knowing you would. "Same shit. Same golden child."
You nod, finally flicking your gaze down to his. His blue eyes are so prominent now, so clear, you wonder if you could get lost in them.
Rafe doesn't disclose any details like he normally does. When he goes on long tangents about the problem. It must've been bad. So, you lower your hand and cup his face, tilting his face to meet yours. "Want to talk about it?"
He swallows hard. "I don't want to talk."
"What do you want to do?"
"Fuck." He answers without a thought, the ability to shift into a fuck-mode is easier than digesting his feelings. You laugh, inappropriately, dropping your hand from his cheeks. You're about to push yourself off his lap—having bandaged him up—and let him go find his next hookup, but his grip on your waist tightens.
He doesn't say anything with that move, and you tilt your head at him.
"I thought I was below your level?" You tease.
"Yet, you're sitting on my dick right now," he says, eyes following yours. "What do you think that means?"
While you're not directly on him, you can feel his hard-on swelling under his pants, lightly grazing against your core, and causing a small ache between your legs.
"That you're horny enough to go for a Pogue."
He scoffs, lowering his hands to your ass and palms the flesh. Your eyes flutter close at the moment. "Who knew you were hiding such a nice body behind that counter?"
"You just haven't been paying attention."
"I am now."
His hands lowering to your hips, slowly pulling you down his lap, realigning your cunt until it sits directly on top of his zipper. He leans forward, his hot mouth against your ear. "If I tell you to grind on me, would you do it?"
You place a hand on his chest, trying to ease some space between the two of you, but your attempt was weak. Some part of you didn't want to leave.
"You're pushing it."
"What if I told you it would make me feel better?" He whispers, his fingers trailing up your skirt, against your bare thighs, leaving goosebumps in its wake. "That you can consider it part of your deal."
Your breath hitch in surprise. "You're saying yes?"
"I was going to," he pulls back to meet your face, "but you ran away."
"You said no to me," you remind him.
"To rile you up," he says, like an asshole, and you scoff. "Didn't think you would just leave like that."
"Maybe you should give me clear answers then."
"Fine," his breath is right in front of yours. "I want you to ride me."
Your eyes trail his face, your hands finding his shoulders. You know you shouldn't. You know if this is supposed to be fake, why do you feel a deep, carnal urge for him. If this happens, it opens the door to other things. But, something in you softens. He did get a bruise for you. He did defend you. He's in pain and you're in need.
Maybe you could use each other.
Slowly, your hips roll against his. The look on his face hints at surprise that you took the bait and causes you to smirk, gripping his shoulders harder when you find the hard cock lined against your panties. You press down.
"Fuck," he groans raspily, "just like that."
The praise lights something in you. "Like that?" You repeat, pushing yourself against his jeans, rubbing up and down, that you can feel him grow harder and harder against the seams of his pants. He nods shakily. "Is it making you feel better, baby?"
He knows you're taunting him, using his words, but he fucking loves it. You're listening. For once, you're not actively trying to spite him and knock back—but willing, to him.
"That's right," he compliments, his gaze following your body as you are starting to find a rhythm against him. Your movements are getting sloppier. "Just what I need. A Pogue who listens to whatever I fucking say."
You nod vigorously, feeling your wetness growing against your panties, drenching the material enough to leak through and rub off against the front of his pants.
"God, look at you," he muses in your ear, glancing down, and a chuckle leaves his throat. "You made such a mess."
"Feel so good," you moan, you tip your head back as the friction of his jeans feels incredibly perfect against your swollen clit.
"Come on, sweetheart," his grip around your waist tightens, afraid with the way you're moving, you're going to fall off. "Ride me."
You follow his direction, quickening your pace as low groans and rasps leaves his lips at the sensation you're making him feel. The sound is like drugs to you, fueling you, because you want to desperately help him arrive at his own climax.
You wrap both your arms around his neck, grinding ruthlessly against his lap. Leaning forward, you dip your face into the crook of his neck. "Come on, Rafe," you whisper into his ear, closing into your own orgasm. "Come for me."
As you came with a moan, your movements didn't stop. Your legs ache, begging to stop, but you want him to get there too.
"Fuck, fuck," he moans at your aggression, at how hard you're pressed against him, moving against him, it's a mesmerizing sight. "I'm coming."
You feel it against your core. The subtle twitch of his dick under the jeans. The faint wetness under you, mixed with your own cum, produces a small smile against your lips.
You slow your grind, pulling back, just to meet his eyes clearing from their post-orgasmic haze, and his grip has weakened significantly around your body. When you stop completely, you push yourself off of him, finding your feet on solid ground with wobbly legs.
"Better?" You tease, to which he nods weakly through heavy-lids. With a satisfied smile, you turn around and head for the door.
"I'll see you on our first date." 
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Navigation — Part 01 | Part 02 | Part 03
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thecordelialetters · 11 months ago
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She's my Angel I Five Hargreeves x Reader
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⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚���。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚
Post Apocalypse Au! Pt2 Pt3
WC: ~3,258 Warnings/Tags: Sexual Tension, Mentions of Abuse, Agedup!Five, Mentions of previous trauma, 18+
Summary: The Umbrella Academy saved the world, the Commission is no longer after them, the moon is in one piece and everyone’s lives start to fall back into place. Five attempts to start his life over again when Klaus brings home a girl with unusual shadow powers. ⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。
˚
The Apocalypse was over and Five Hargreaves did what he did best, drink and cope. The first few weeks of freedom he tried things he had missed early on in his childhood. It started when Viktor took him shopping for a new, more appropriate wardrobe, that someone who looked his age would wear. Then he would often visit the park just to admire the beauty of places that were once a baron landscape. And sometimes he just spent his time reading catching up on what he missed in the last few years.
But old habits die hard when you spend 54 years alone and the next 2 weeks desperate to save yourself and save your family. Maybe Klaus was right when he called the apocalypse his drug because, for a while, it was all he’d ever know.
Five hadn’t slept well in a long time and despite his newfound freedom without the looming feeling of impending doom. He would find himself waking up at 4 am to check his window and just to see if everything was real.
The Academy had been empty for a bit, the first week his family had stayed back to collect themselves, celebrate, and appreciate one another but slowly their lives fell back into place. Allison went back to Claire wanting to get back her career and her daughter back. Luther wanted to find his independence and took a small helping from his inheritance to live on his own. Diego and Lila had also moved out in hopes of continuing to grow their relationship and perhaps find happiness in normalcy. Viktor, now confident in himself wanting to explore the world more began traveling and meeting new people. To Five it felt like everyone had moved on, except him. He had been the one to jump through time, and now he felt like he was stuck in it.
However this morning, his silent coffee and breakfast time was interrupted but a surprisingly sober Klaus barging through the door with a girl no taller than 5’3 who looked as if she had been dragged through the mud and a forest in his arms.
“I didn’t know where to bring her she ran into me frantic and couldn’t speak much,”
“There wasn’t anyone chasing her so I have no idea where she came from and she’s in pretty bad shape.”
Klaus looked panicked, he felt bad for the beat-up girl in his arms but what could he do besides bring her to the place he knew could help her best.
Grace and Pogo immediately took action, bringing the girl into the spare room to care for her wounds.
“What makes you think you can just bring random people in here? She could be dangerous?”
Five arched his eyebrow at Klaus’s behavior. He wasn’t a trusting man but he trusted his brother’s intuition and the girl genuinely looked like she needed help.
“I couldn’t just leave her on the road. I’m not a bad person Five. There’s something different about her I swear.”
Five looked distrustful at what his brother was saying.
“Well, we’ll just have to see when she wakes up.”
The two went back to doing their own things in the Academy waiting for you to wake up.
————————-3 days later————————
The sun shone brightly in the room you stayed at. Your eyes slowly opened, blinking harshly to adjust to the shining light. You had no idea where you were, this new place was uncomfortable and unfamiliar. Warm wood furniture decorated the walls, and the mattress you slept on seemed more comfy, soft, and warmer than your old hay-filled cot. Unsurprisingly your wounds ached but were clean nevertheless. You jumped when the door swung open to reveal a monkey? no an ape? in a suit. "Ah you're finally awake, Ill let the others know"
"I am Pogo by the way, please rest, we don't want your stitches reopening." Maybe it was the exhaustion catching up to you, but you listened to his words and laid back, staring at the large high ceilings waiting to see if whoever brought you here would be like your old doctors. Back downstairs Pogo noticed Five pacing around in the living room. "Any troubles worrying you?" "Yes that girl, I can't find any information about her, she had no ID, no name card, I even looked around the area trying to track back where she came from, and nothing." Five glanced around, more cautious of his surroundings
"What if the commission sent her?" "This is not good, not good at all"
And with a quick turn, he teleported to the room of which his unwelcome guest occupied. A flash of blue interrupted your daydreams when a boy about your age in a green flannel, cargo pants, with slightly long side parted hair entered your space. Besides appearing out of nowhere he looked almost normal, but that didn't stop you from being scared. Shivering you pushed yourself back on the bed as far as you could to try to get away from him. Sensing your fear Five held out his hands as a way to show you some form of peace. Lowering one hand he slowly approached you. But the closer he came the farther back you shuffled. Something wasn't right Five thought. You were terrified of him, what had happened to you to cause you to be in such a state.
Hey Im not going to hurt you, I don't know who you are but Im not going to hurt you." Five could see that you weren't budging so he reached into his pocket and pulled out a hazelnut toffee-flavored candy. He wasn't a big fan of sweets but had kept some from his last visit to a local coffee shop. "Here you must be a little hungry, it's good to see." He popped it in his mouth to show her that it was safe, not a trick. Slowly you reached out and touched his hand, grabbing the little treat, unwrapping it before letting the gooey sweet melt on your tongue. Five smiled at your reaction. "See? It was good." He thought you looked adorable with big doe eyes waiting to see if he had any more. He reached into his right pocket and pulled out another handle full of candies. "Ill give you one each time you answer a question. Can you do that for me?" You nodded slowly. "Okay, can you tell me your name?" "Angel" you pointed to yourself "Five" you pointed to him. You had heard Klaus shouting his name when you entered the house. "Angel? Do you have a last time?" "Five. Five Hargreeves" He pointed to himself. "Angel" You repeated. Okay maybe you didn't have a last name that was fine, at least he had gotten a name. He gave you another candy and watched you excitedly open it. "Okay Angel, another question where did you come from? Who or what were you running from?" "Doctor" you responded looking down. "What Doctor? What did he do to you." You felt like you should have known better than to trust the boy in front of you, but he looked so earnest so sweet, that you decided to show him your secret. Opening your fist a ball of shadows appeared in your hand before you tossed it into the air letting whatever light was in the room dissipate. Five knew what this had suggested. Whoever took you, held you captive, and experimented on you. Perhaps they were trying to make you into one of the unlucky 43. Another candy was handed to you.
“Show me more” Five demanded. You blinked at him slowly before he put another candy in your hand. “Show me.”
You looked at him and brought both your hands up into the air. He watched shadows run from the ground into the room and swirl around you. It appeared you could summon shadows at your will and control them.
“Good girl” and another candy as placed in your hand. "Tell me, Angel, do you know where or who it was? Do you know the name of the commission?" You stared at him blankly not understanding what he said. Before Five could ask any more questions Klaus had burst through the door. "My Angel! You are okay !" As he rushed towards you to grab your face. Stunned you jolted back from his presence. "Angel, that's why she called herself that, it's not her name, it’s what you called her!" Five went to smack Klaus in the back of the head when his hand was stopped by a shadow. "No hurt, Klaus friend" With heart eyes, Klaus dove into Angel's arms "LOOK AT MY ANGEL PROTECTING ME!!" With the gentleness of a newborn deer, Angel reached out to Klaus with a small sweet in her hand. "Candy?" "For me? Of course, Angel thank you!" Rolling his eyes at the scene Five teleported to his room to think. Where had this girl come from she had no name could barely speak and had a dark power with unknown consequences. Angel clad in Umbrella Academy uniform, and Klaus were in the living room when a flash appeared in the doorway. "Cinco! Where are you off to?" "Library I need to do some research." But just before he would reach for the doorknob a body was flung into his back. "Here take Angel with you, she needs a new set of clothes, can't have her wearing this uniform, you know all about that wouldn't you?" Klaus said as he shoved Angel forward. "I don't have time, I'm not a babysitter." Five expressed as he grabbed your arms and pushed you back. "Five...mad?" You looked up at Five with tears in your eyes. Reaching out to his face with his hand you softly pet his cheek. "Five...happy. Happy"
The time travelers face softened at the kindness you showed while trying to console him.
“I’m sorry Angel, yes Five is happy. Come on let’s go.”
He grabbed your hand ignoring the feeling of his heart when your soft skin wrapped around his.
————————-In the Car—————————
“Alright Angel, as cute as you look in the uniform we have to get you some normal clothes.”
Five looked over at you, but you were looking out the window. His green eyes passed over the cuts on your legs and the faint but visible bruises on your neck. It wondered him how someone could do this to you, turn a girl who seemed like an Angel into a shadow user. He parked the car at Gimble's before flashing to your side of the door to open it, Five was still a gentleman after all. "Okay now Angel, we're here to buy you some new clothes." You nodded your head to show you understood him and hopped out of the car excited to see the world around you. Being locked up for so long you had forgotten what the outside world looked like. Today the sky was blue with warm gusts of winds filling the air. People and families were seen chattering about. You reached out to grab Five's arm and pulled him closer to the store. Five chucked at your childlike antics, letting himself be whisked away by you. You dragged him to the dress section; some of the kinder doctors had given you books to look at to pass the time, many of them being princess books. There were cute frilly dresses that caught your eye immediately. Rushing forward you grabbed 3 dresses that might have suited you. With a sigh Five grabbed your shoulders wanting to tell you to go find some more practical everyday clothes. But after seeing the glimmer in your eye as if you found the most priceless thing...he couldn't bear take that away from you. "Come on Princess, let's go try them on." He ushered you to the changing room and waited outside. As he turned his back you grabbed his hand, but Five had yanked it back at the unexpected contact. He wasn't completely used to physical touch yet.
Ignoring this you grabbed his hand once more and tried to take him into the dressing room with you. "No Angel I can't go with you, just put on the dresses inside and Ill wait out here."
You had refused to let go of his hand. With another sign he allowed himself to be pulled into the confined space of the changing room. You quickly shimmied out of the uniform skirt and tie throwing it into a random corner. Five's face turned a deep scarlet red, although he was an older man the sight of your small and barely clothes body was enough to make him shift in his pants. Before he could embarrass himself any further he blinked out into the waiting room fanning his face as if he ran a marathon. There were small warning signs in his brain, don't get too attached, she doesn't know better, please don't get a boner right now. Trying to collect himself he put his hands in his face wanting to be anywhere but here right now. You interrupted his train of thought when you came out bouncing with a big smile on your face. The dress you picked out was a cute white summer dress that was white had thick straps tied on your shoulders. The skirt part stopped right above your knees and flared out with a twirl. You looked absolutely adorable, an Angel who wielded the power of a devil. "You look...beautiful" Five muffled through his hand. "Beautiful?" You questioned. "Yes you, Angel, you are beautiful." And as if your smile couldn't get any bigger, you ran and jumped into Five, his arms slowly wrapping around your frame to prevent you from falling.
"Five! Beautiful!" You smiled and pointed at him. Your fingers had graced his cheeks into a smile. Pointing at his dimple "Five! Beautiful" you repeated. "Oh, you think I'm beautiful Angel?" Five couldn't help but also feel happy and continue smiling, something about you felt like a breath of fresh air. His last few weeks had been nonstop paranoia and feeling the effects of an identity crisis, but hearing your laughter and seeing you call him beautiful, it felt as if he was actually living again. However, that didn't stop the nagging fear in the back of his mind of where you came from and what had happened to you. Perhaps it was the assassin in him that just couldn't let him...enjoy a moment. "Come on Angel, let’s get the rest of the dresses and pay. We need to head to the library before it closes." You nodded your head and skipped off to grab the rest of your dresses and clothes. You and Five stood at the cashier waiting to pay. "That will be 45.78." Five pulled out a 50 and felt your head lean on his shoulder. "Five, thank you." You looked up at him with a mischievous gleam in your eye. As he was retrieving his change you leaned up and placed your soft lips on the corner of his mouth. "Five happy?" He looked down at you and blushed "Yes Five is very happy." ————————The Library—————————- You were sat in Five's lap flipping through a picture book while he was doing research. Unfortunately, there was almost no information about any kind of suspicious activities in the area where they had found you or even how you even got to the city. Five had to expand his research on places that might have to do with experimental tests but with so little access he was found himself at a dead end. "Nothing! Absolutely Nothing!" Five yelled before slamming his notebook on the table. You jumped in his lap and covered your ears, eyes filling with heavy teardrops waiting to fall. "Shit Angel Im sorry come here." He cooed wrapping his arms around you for the fourth time today. Five pressed a kiss to the top of your hair and inhaled slowly. You smelt like a blooming meadow and a hint of cinnamon. Closing his eyes he rested his head on yours. It wasn't been often when he felt a peace like this, heck he didn’t even remember the last time he felt calm, other than when he was drinking or passed out after a mission. Your eyelashes fluttered on his neck as you began to press small kisses on his jawline. "Come on Angel what are you doing?" "Make Five happy. Kiss you" You mumbled and continued leaving marks on his neck and jaw. Five clenched his fists around you "Angel if you keep this us I'm not going to be able to hold back." Five groaned as he pulled you closer into his lap. And with his last bit of resolve, he blinked you guys back into the car. "Come on Angel let's go home." He kissed your cheek slightly to assure you he wasn't mad and drove the two of you back. ————————the academy———————--- "Mi hermano and Angel ! You guys are back" Klaus shouted from the couch he was currently lying on. You ran into the living room jumping in front of Klaus to show off your dress.
"My cutie Angel! You look so pretty!"
Klaus then swept you off your feet and into a fit of giggles. Five, who had been observing the scene from the bar was actively trying to fight off the green monster that was creeping up his heart. "Leave her alone Klaus we had a long day. Come on Angel let's have your shower and get ready for bed." It was obvious you needed to be cared for and Five had already begun to assume the role. Pulling out some extra pajamas Five had in his wardrobe he handed them to you before showing you the bathroom. "Shower here and come back to my room when you are done okay?" You nodded back and went into the bathroom. With a sign Five flopped on his back in bed wondering more about you. How could someone he just met cause him to feel such a way? Maybe it was his messed up time-traveling brain that was causing these emotions but deep down he knew he had a hidden attraction to you. He began to think more about your powers. You couldn't be part of the 43 because you were too young but you also showed an understanding of your abilities and more control than Viktor did when he first found out about his. Five would have to talk to you after you shower about your abilities. Small footsteps padded outside his room before stopping. The door swung open and there you stood wrapped in only a small towel Grace had given you. Five green eyes turned wide as you skipped into his room.. You had turned to grab the pajamas he had left you on the bed and dropped your towel. Five sat up instantly, his eyes wandered over the curve of your breasts and the plumpness of your backside. Being in the apocalypse and focused on getting back home to his family never allowed him much time for romance or women, besides Delores. You stood up as bare as the day you were born, nipples perked up at the cold air and you put the silk top and bottom on. Now properly clothed you turned to Five who was staring at you with eyes that rivaled a burning sun. In a blink, he was in front of you grabbing your waist with such a force it felt like you would disappear if he let go. Bringing his lips to your neck he kissed gently and dragged his face to meet your eyes. Soft despreate lips met plump shy ones as you and Five melted into each other. The kiss grew hungry, more desperate, both parties missing the feel of one another. The two of you fell back onto the bed with Five on top of you. Two souls both isolated from the world finally finding solstice in one another. All the questions Five had for you were gone from his mind, the only thing replacing it was the thought of how your body felt against his. A small hand reached into the front of Five's pants. "I want to help Five" You had whispered into his ear. It was going to be a long night.
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ Authors note : I kinda of wrote this on a whim in the middle of the night. I’d want to make this into a full series although and go really in depth about Angel who she is and how she got her powers and I defiantly want to bring back the rest of the Hargreaves but I'm not sure when Ill have another creative burst.
1K notes · View notes
clown420cunt · 3 months ago
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Molly - Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Summery: After the gang try out some of Eddie’s new inventory, the afternoon turn into something more then just excited chatting and familiar company.
Warnings: drug use! Please do not read this if the topic is triggering.
Tags: Eddie x fem!reader, one time use of y/n, plus size coded reader, drug use (weed and molly, Be responsible!), friends to lovers, nicknames, aphrodisiac, smut, oral!female receiving, fingering, overstimulation, squirting, p in v sex(wrap it before you tap it), cream pie, reader is kinda a pillow princess.
Masterlist
Not beta read.
Word count: 3,8k
Minors!DNI
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See, taking Molly with your close friends seamed like a fun idea until robin was freaking out about drinking the tall glass of water in front of her.
“But what if we die and no one ever finds our bodies!” Her ramblings not stopping even when Steve and Eddie try to tell her that that it isn’t gonna happen.
(Y/n) steps into the kitchen going to the fridge and pulled out 4 bottles of water.
“Robin you don’t have to worry, just drink a shit ton of water and you’ll be fine” she puts a bottle in front of everyone.
“I’ve done this before, is gonna be fun!”
She takes her spiked glass of water and downs it.
“30 minutes and we’ll be flying”
She grabs her bottle if water and moves towards the living room before turning around and saying “I also got gum so we don’t chew our cheeks”.
Robin locked eyes with Steve before the both of them decide that this was it and downed their own glasses as well.
Following behind her into the adjacent room.
—————————————————————
And here he is, one moment Eddie was sitting and staring at robin and Steve, trying to decipher the words coming out of their mouths.
One continuous speech of words exchanged from one to the other, seemingly with no start or end to it.
Just two people in their own bubble.
And the next moment a soft weight was sat in his lap taking up his full attention.
“Eddie I love you so much! You’re so fun to be around and you’re so passionate about things you like and I think it’s so cute!” A new mountain of words are taking up his ears and it takes a second for him to register the meaning for the words coming from the girl just sat in his lap.
A dope smile settles on his face, dilated eyes shift to her face to stair into another pair of just as round pupils.
“Really?” The girl nods her head fast up and down not breaking eye contact.
“Really, really” she grabs his face between the palms of her hands, fingers speed around his jaw and ears. The organ slotting perfectly In between her pointer and middle finger.
“Your face so soft and warm” she squeezes his cheeks lightly before moving her palms in tiny circles, catching on the new hair growth starting to emerge from his last shave.
A smile mimicking his own starting to take place on her face as well.
His smile seemed to get bigger with her answer. Eyes closeting for a second to take in the new sensation on his skin. Warm soft palms and delicate fingers teasing into his hair, temping to scratch at his scalp.
She releases his head to grab one of his hands.
sliding her hand into his bigger ones, slotting her fingers beside his.
He’s soft palm resting with hers in her lap.
He opens his eyes again to look at the connection. Inspecting the size difference and the way her hand fits perfectly in his hold.
His other hand lifts from where it was placed on the armrest to place it self on her waist.
“Your hands are so small” the words seem to spill out of his mouth before they popped into his mind.
She turns her gaze from his face to their connected hands.
“Oh my god! They’re tiny!” She shifted in her seat in his lap, turning her knees closer to Eddies waist and twisting her upper body at an uncomfortable angle.
She stands up, his hand falling back onto the armrest of the couch he was sitting on.
“Can I sit here like this” she moves her hands in a straight line from her sides to his.
Eddie just nods “yeah sure” not really understanding the arm movements.
She sets one leg and plush thigh on either side of Eddie, resorting in him having to move a bit away from the armrest to make room.
Eddie places his hand on the meat of her thighs, the squishy supple flesh laying against his palms now.
A involuntary squeeze and he can’t seem to stop him self from roaming the uncharted sea of long sensual touching.
Finally settling she rest her arms on he’s biceps.
His muscles twitching as she runs them down the sleeve of his t-shirt and up into it.
Sending electricity up into his brain and down to his fingertips.
“You’re so warm” she gives him a squeeze. “I am?” Eyes shifting to where her hand is placed on his left arm.
“Yes! Is really nice” a breathy tone entering her voice, her forehead falling to his shoulder.
He moves his hands up and down her thighs taking in the feeling of her denim pants running along his ruff skin.
She site straight up again, removing her hands from under his sleeves to retract them into her own T-shirt sleeves and onto her back.
Fumbling around with something Eddie is not totally sure about.
She finds what she’s looking for and a sigh escapes her lips.
“That is so much better” she scrambles with trying to slide something down her arms and pushes it out the bottom of her shirt discarding the burgundy bra on the side and sliding onto the floor.
Moving her hands out of the sleeves again and back up to remove the tension from her shoulders, touching the now free mounds from on top of the shirt.
“That thing was killing me” gently squeezing and moving the imprisoned flesh, the subtle movement that resembled the ocean waves making his stare in a trance like state.
“Do you want to touch they’re so soft” she’s looking at him with these big doll like eyes, glassy and blown out, the black of her pupil nearly covering her natural eye colour.
Eddies hands are moving, her hands guiding his up and onto the softest sensation he’s ever touched.
His movement was instant, squeezing the soft flesh, holding the two softest pillows he’s ever had his hands upon.
The weight heavy but welcome.
Eddie leans forward, his forehead touching her collarbone.
“This is the softest thing I’ve ever…” his voice is mumbled against her but she hears him all the same.
Her hands are placed in his hair touching and running her finders though the curly brown locks.
Then going to the top of his scalp and pressing her fingertips into his flesh.
A new sensation washing over him, a tinkle runing along his spine.
She pushes him closer to her, his face being planted down into her chest.
The soft globes engulfing Eddie in the safe cocoon of her scent.
She’s placing a kiss on top of his head and he shifts his gaze up again, starting into her calm, blown out orbs.
She continues to kiss his face, down his forehead onto his cheeks and onto the tip of his nose.
The pillowy kisses for her lips are a welcoming feeling and Eddie doesn’t have to think before he’s leaning in to catch her lips with his when she stoped to look at him.
“Is this okay?” She breaks the kiss before they can get lost in the sensations of each other.
He places his nose against her cheek, running it down her face to place kisses against her jawline.
“More than okay” he mumbles along his journey along her jawbone.
A hand is placed on his face again, her right hand guiding his lips back to hers, breathing in the tenderness of scents, bumping of noses and locking of plump lips.
He opens his mouth just enough for his toung to run along her soft lower lip.
Theres a quick reaction from her when one of his hands runs from a breast to her ass.
A squeeze making her part her lips so he can explore the inside of her soft round cheeks.
She lifts her arms setting them on the back of his back and in his hair, gripping into the full strands on his head.
A finger runs along her nippel and goosebumps break out over her stomach and back making their way down her arms and legs.
A soft moan is pulled when she breaks the kiss, three pecks are planted up his face which is descending down to her neck looking for where she’s most sensitive.
A breathy voice rings in his ears “You wanna go find the guest room?”
His mind creeps back in to register what’s being asked of him.
The kiss breaks, his tongue running up the tendon of her neck up to her ear.
His eyes locking onto robin and Steve still in deep conversation, totally oblivious to theory two friends on the couch right in front of them.
His own blissed out voice comes to he’s ears when he speaks out again her ear.
“Show the way, sweetheart”
She gets up from his lap and stretches her hand out to him.
Placing his hand in hers and rising from the couch, doesn’t disturb the other two idiots.
A soft voice sounding like sweet music in his ears flow into the open room.
“We’ll be right back” no movement or acknowledgement come from their two sitting on the couch in front of them.
With nothing else in the way they move hand in hand out of the living room and upstairs to the guest bedroom set up for tonight.
———————————————————————
It’s hard to walk with him stuck to her side like a koala.
Big hands grappling and touching all along her upper body, up to her neck and back down to her ass.
A handful of cheek in his hand.
Slightly chapped but soft lips sucking a bruise below her ear when they end up against the door.
Trying to get the doorknob to work with the movement and the denial of eyesight.
There’s a click and the solid form behind them moves, kiss broken to make room for not falling on the floor, they make their way in and closes the door on they way.
The first think to go is her shirt, the old worn fabric of a T-shirt is discarded onto the floor.
Hands making contact with flush skin and a sigh making its way out catching ear drums and bouncing off the walls.
Eddies hands make their way up the exposed skin.
Grabbing, squeezing, touching and running up the path of her stomach and waist.
One hand settling on her chest while the other runs up her shoulder blade and holds her closer.
Lips smashing against hers before making their way down to her neck again.
Licking, kissing and biting down and into where her shoulder and neck meet.
Soft breaths and small moans escaping her mouth, as she grasp his waist and arm when her legs turn to jelly.
Her hands run down the expanse of his chest to settle at the bottom of his shirt.
Slightly the fabric upwards to discard the offending garment.
Eddie disconnects from her throat, shirt tuning over his head.
Eyes setting on the small and bigger bruising forming onto the sensitive flesh.
She pulled him into a headed kiss again, he’s quick to take charge.
Moving tongues and lips in synchronised motion.
Hands creep down from necks and supply open buttons and sippers.
Pushing denim down the expanse to plush thighs and round shapes, settling against hardwood floors.
Another pair of pants quickly follow, a sound of metal on hardwood joins the wet sounds of lips fighting and tongues meeting.
Pressing his body against hers is a feeling Eddie never wants to end.
Warm, soft flesh slotting against his tall frame.
Hands gripping thighs and running along chest hair and sensitive nipple piercings.
The kiss breaks and eyes shift down to his chest, a thumb running over the jewellery and making him shutter, sucking in short breaths and kissing his teeth in the process.
Eyes running along the expanse of his chest, down to his bellybutton and following the trail of hair presenting a tent of blue checkered fabric.
Top of her tongue peeking out from her lips, wetting them in the process.
Finger tips edging to run along the edge of his boxers.
His hand catching her wrist before she can do anything “not yet”.
Guiding her backwards until the back of her knees touch the bed and she’s placed on to the light green comforter.
Eddies fingertips brushes over her sides and ghost over the sensitive skin of her lower stomach.
Fingers hooking in the elastic of the comfortable cotton panties
He tucks down, guiding her to lift her hips off of the madras so he can get the fabric over the curve of her ass.
Plush flesh flexing when the muscles in her thighs and butt move into action.
The soft pull of fabric is moved from her ankle and suffering the same fade of all the other items on the floor.
“Slide back would you, sweetheart?” His soft candied voice can de heard making her brain fuzzy.
Her body moving before she can really register what could be happening.
He climbeds after her settling between her legs, hands running up over her skin and gripping her chest.
Skin soft and plush slipping between his fingers and creating small curves I the spaces.
A hot breath and wet tongue catching her attention, a sensation that makes her brain turn off and a moan makes a way past her lips.
“God you are so beautiful, I could get lost in you forever” the hot muscle comes in contact with the pebbled knob again this time lips follow, sucking onto the pink flesh.
She wiggles when his teeth grace the sensitive circle.
Nipping at it before moving to the other one to give it the same attention.
Course fingers make a move south and settle in the soft curls on her mound.
Fingers dipping down to run along the opening of her plush lips, before dipping into her feeling the slick hiding between her thighs.
“Is all this for me?” He breathed against her breast, a lick following the question.
A squeak and a shuttering breath follow.
Fingers dipping deeper and running up to touch her clit, curling it a couple of times and pulling away.
He shift, moving off of her and a whine follows.
“Shh, baby” he goes back to kiss her, one hand holding him up the other falling to her thigh and lifting it up to her stomach, before breaking contact with her lips and moving his whole body lower.
“I’m not going anywhere” his other hand is placed on her ass and slither up her other thigh placing it in the same position as the other and spreading her open for him to see.
He locked eyes with her glistening hole, small needy twitches catch his eye and makes it impossible to look away.
“So wet, sweetheart” he licks his lips.
“What did I do to deserve such a good girl” another pucker catches his eye and a whimper follows.
Without breaking eye contact with her weeping hole he descents.
Licking a strip up her lips before settling onto her most needy pebble.
First licking and then sucking over the sensitive button.
A moan spurs him on twirling his wet muscle over her again and again.
Moving a hand down her thigh and teasing at her entrance.
Going circles around before inserting one finger and then two.
A broken breath and a loud moan can be heard after.
A hand snaking into his hair gripping tight to the scalp making him groan and trust into the comforter creating friction against his underwear.
Fingers moving in a ‘come here’ motion starts the tinkly sensation.
Hips riding up and grinding on his face following his fingers and tongues moments.
Holding her down makes her whine out loud, a squeaky sound in the hot room.
His teeth catch on her clit and sends a jolt of pleasure through her.
A guttural moan following.
Her walls spasming around his digits when he does it again, fingers catching the soft spongy spot inside.
“I’m gonna cum” three sweet words fall from her lips followed by another moan.
He keeps his fingers pace and continues to nibble at her clit, small electric shocks building into pressure in her gut directly connected to her sweet release.
Eddie continues the motion, her body locking up and walls squeezing his fingers so tight.
No air enters her lungs as a second release comes with a push of her walls liquid release as the over stimulation turns into another orgasm.
Making her squirt as he lick her clit.
Broken sounds escape har agape lips, cut off screams and moans having no way to form with the lack of air entering her system.
Her legs are shaking when he removes himself from her.
Legs falling to her sides as she tries to catch her breath.
Eddie moves up to kiss her, rock hard member catching on the crook of where her thigh meets her torso and a groan falls from his lips.
“You did so good for me sweetheart, squirting all over my face. Such a dirty girl”
Her brain like mush struggling to comprehend the words falling from his lips.
He kisses her again lips opening so she can taste herself in his kiss. Wet chin and mouth transferring her juices onto her face in the process.
“Want you Eddie, want you so bad” she breaths in between connected lips.
He growls into the kiss as he runts into her stomach.
Breaking the kiss, he mover to discard his last layer.
His dick springing free from its confines and standing tall against his stomach.
Pre-cum pebbling and catching the light in the room making the head shiny and inviting.
His hand moves to grab his throbbing member.
Giving it a few pumps before moving to climb on top of her again.
Grinding against her wet entrance, catching her clit with his head and the sweet sensation of lightning running up her spine doesn’t prepare her for the delicious stretch from his cock.
A gasp and wide eyed expression makes Eddies attention run from the image of his dick disappearing in between her soaking walls and up to her blissed out face.
Pulling back out that thrusting in again he keeps his eyes on her beautiful face.
High from a combination of drugs and two orgasms clearly giving her an out of body experience when Eddie once again thrust into her.
Hearing her breath hitch and eyes flutter from every touch.
Picking up speed, the sound bodies slapping together would be able to be heard through the wooden door if you passed by.
Broken moans, groans and screams sprinkled in.
Thighs back against her stomach, body folded in half, hands on thighs and behind knees is the position the pressure builds again.
Ruff thrusts sending the frame of the bed against the wall creating a steady rhythm of thumbs.
Her eyes roll into the back of her head body and mind only focusing to the man on top of her.
Fucked stupid, no thoughts running through her head, not even able to form any.
Breath hitching every time his dick hits her sweet spot sending tremors through her body.
Eddies mind is only on her, eyes following her every move, ears only hearing the sounds she gives up.
High pitch whines and small short screams fall from her lips, her legs start to tremble and shake and he releases one of her legs to move the pad of his thumb over her aroused clit.
The tight but soft circular motion sends her over the edge.
Loud whiny screams tumble through her lips as her trembling core tighten and try to push him out of her.
The sensation nearly sends Eddie over the edge, making him stop short in his thrusts.
He doesn’t want this to be over yet.
The all consuming sensation of her everything making him strive for more in his elevated state of body and mind.
She stretches her legs out, the tinkling sensation of blood flowing back into the limbs.
The new position makes Eddie lean over her and place her arms around his sweaty neck.
“Hold tight” and without pulling out he sits her up into his lap adjusting her in to a comfortable position.
Shallow thrust start up again, her legs folded behind his back and arms holding onto him for dear life.
She rocks with him using her thigh muscles to guide and grind herself down on his dick.
“You feel so good, suck a good girl riding me” Eddie holds her tight.
“Gonna let me come is this position sweetheart? Gonna let me cover these walls with my cum. Hmm?”
A moan falls from his lips when her walls clamp down at the words, body reacting to the filthy words coming from his mouth.
The sounds she’s making and the flutter of her used hole is a tell tail sign and he can’t stop him self this time.
Thick white cum fills her up, while Eddie continues to thrust through his orgasm, sending her over the edge.
Biting down into Eddies shoulder makes him moan out loud at the sting feeling.
Muffling the sound of her screams while they ride out the last blissful moments.
The only sound in the room is heavy breathing.
She can feel his cum leaking out of her and down the curve of her ass, his softening member no longer making sure it stays put.
“You okay?” He asked after getting enough air and blood back into his brain.
“Y.. yeah” her voice breaks with the word.
“I’m gonna lay you down on the bed, okay?”
“Okay..”
He leans forward, having her upper body fall onto the bed and moving his feet from under her ass.
Admiring the way har beasts move up and down with each breath she takes.
Eddie gets up from the bed stumbling in the process.
Leg muscles screaming out for him to sit back down but continues to carry him as he moves to put on his underwear and a shirt.
Glancing over he watches her for a second to make sure she’s okay before moving to the door to go get them both at big glass of water.
Walking by the living room he can still see Robin and Steve talking but they’ve changed position now both laying upside down on the sofa heads not visible because of the table in front.
Eddie completes his mission of water and returns to her lying on her side.
She’s facing the door waiting for him half asleep.
He makes her drink the whole glass before helping her into her T-shirt and panties for a visit to the toilet making sure she can take care of herself.
The room is hot and smells of sex, he opens a window to let some fresh air in and grab his pre rolled joints for at slow descending calm down.
Returning to the living room with her and stepping into the backyard.
“You know.. I love you too”
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I hope you enjoyed my first ever attempt at writing smut 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 this is kind of anxiety provoking ngl, so please be kind to me 😖
Let me know what you think!
I will also be posting this to AO3!
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Taglist: @paleidiot
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littlelamy · 4 months ago
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rafe x religious!reader
requests: OPEN
rafe cameron had never been one to believe in a higher power, much less one that could hold him accountable for his many decisions. the idea that someone or something could watch over him, judge him, or offer redemption seemed laughable—until he met you.
you were always at the country club, your presence impossible to ignore. your pretty dresses, paired with that delicate cross necklace that always rested against your collarbone, set you apart. something about you intrigued rafe in a way no one else ever had. you weren’t like the other girls he’d been with—you didn’t care for partying, drinking, or doing drugs—not that you judged others who did it, you just weren't interested in it.
one afternoon, as rafe leaned against the bar at the country club, his eyes locked onto you. you were talking to sarah, your smile bright and infectious. he found himself captivated, his usual confidence shaken by the unfamiliar feeling of admiration.
“dude, who is she?” rafe asked, throwing his arms around topper's neck. his eyes never left you. “she’s gorgeous.”
“that’s y/n,” topper replied, moving rafe’s arm off his shoulder. “she just moved in with her aunt. lives a block away from tannyhill. why?” topper says surprised. he wasn’t used to seeing rafe show interest in someone so wholesome, so out of his usual type.
rafe didn’t answer immediately. he just kept watching you, wondering what it was about you that made him feel this way. maybe it was your innocence, or the way you carried yourself with such grace. whatever it was, he knew he wanted to get closer to you.
after a few weeks of casual interactions, rafe found himself standing outside a church on a sunday morning. the old brick building loomed in front of him, a stark contrast to the lavish settings he was used to. he had never been the religious type, but you had mentioned in passing that you attended service every sunday, and before he knew it, he had asked if he could join you.
you had looked surprised at first, but then a soft smile had spread across your face. “i’d love that, rafe,” you say with sincerity in your voice made something stir in his chest.
now, as he followed you inside, rafe felt out of place. the atmosphere was quiet, reverent, with people gathered in the pews, their heads bowed in prayer. he wasn’t sure what to do, so he mimicked your actions, sitting beside you as the service began.
rafe had expected to feel awkward, maybe even bored, but as the sermon went on, he found himself paying attention. the pastor spoke of love, forgiveness, and redemption—concepts that rafe had never really considered. he glanced over at you, noticing how your face softened with emotion as you listened, how your eyes closed in silent prayer. there was a peace about you, a calmness that he longed to understand.
after the service, you both stepped out into the warm sunlight, the sounds of people chatting and children laughing filling the air. rafe had expected to feel relieved that it was over, but instead, he felt a strange sense of calm—a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a long time.
as you walked beside him, you glanced up, noticing the thoughtful expression on his face. “what did you think?” you asked, curious but gentle, not wanting to push him too hard.
rafe hesitated, searching for the right words. “it was…different,” he admitted. “i didn’t think i’d feel anything, but… i don’t know. it wasn’t as bad as I thought.”
you smiled, understanding that this was a big step for him. “i’m glad you came. it’s not about being perfect, rafe. It’s about trying, about being open to something more.”
he stopped walking, turning to face you, his gaze intense. “you really believe in all this, don’t you?”
you nodded. “it gives me hope. and it’s not just about church or religion—it’s about believing that there’s something good out there, something worth fighting for,” you smile to yourself.
rafe looked at you, really looked at you, and for the first time, he didn’t feel the need to hide behind his usual cockiness. “i’m not sure i’m good enough for that,” he confessed, his voice almost a whisper.
you reached out, taking his hand in yours, the gesture simple but filled with meaning. “rafe, it’s not about being good enough. it’s about loving others. and i believe you can.”
for a moment, rafe didn’t say anything, just held your hand, feeling a warmth spread through him that he couldn’t quite explain. maybe he wasn’t there yet, but for the first time in a long time, he felt like he wanted to try.
“maybe… maybe i’ll come with you again next week,” he said, the words surprising even himself. "but only if you promise me and date friday night."
you squeezed his hand, your smile brightening. “i’d like that.”
as you continued walking, your hands still intertwined, rafe realized that this wasn’t just about going to church or understanding your faith. it was about being close to you, about wanting to be someone you could be proud of. And for the first time, he started to believe that maybe, just maybe, he could be.
taglist: @namelesslosers s @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0
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loganhowlettshousewife · 3 months ago
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Logan and Rapunzel reader perchance? I would imagine him being absolutely enamored by her long hair when they first meet. <333
not my best work but this idea was so cute so i had to write a little something
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your hair has always grown faster than normal. it’s the colour of gold, shining when the light hits it. as a child, you were your parents' favourite - they adored the compliments you would receive every time they brought you out of the house for errands or a playdate at the park with your friends.
and then at ten years old you found out that you had the power to heal. your best friend was in the hospital and you were by her side, refusing to leave no matter what. she was asleep, passed out from the pain drugs they’d given her, so you sang her a lullaby, hoping that she might be able to hear you even subconsciously, that it would bring her comfort.
your hair began to glow. stray stands of your hair had fallen onto her arm, and the contact of your glowing hair with her skin began to heal her.
your parents had very different reactions when they found out. your father was disgusted that his child was a mutant, but your mother wanted to use your powers. so she pulled you out of school to homeschool you, saying that you weren’t safe around others, that they would try to hurt you if they found out.
and for years you lived like that, trapped in a not-quite-life. you hardly left the house, your only role was to keep your mother young and beautiful.
until one day, a group of mutants came knocking at your door. a man named charles xavier who told your parents all about his school. your mother didn’t want you to go, but charles managed to speak to you alone and you begged him to help you escape, to help you leave this wretched place.
your first few weeks at the mansion you were terribly shy. it had been years since you’d had much contact with others, since you’d met anyone new. so you would hide out in a secluded section of the garden.
that’s where you meet logan.
he leans against the wall, smoking a cigar, and when you ask him what he’s doing here, he replies that it’s probably the same thing you’re doing out here - avoiding the others. he doesn’t speak to you much the first few times, but you find a comfort in his presence. he has no expectations of you.
day after day you hang out with logan, and you grow closer. you tell him about your childhood, and in return he tells you stories about his long life. some are quite brutal, and they make you wince, to which he just laughs dryly.
and then you start to spend time with him outside of the garden. you find him on the couch, drinking and watching a movie, and you settle by his side. he plays with your long hair, twisting it between his fingers, and while normally you hate when people touch your hair, logan isn’t doing it to take advantage of your abilities.
it becomes a habit of his, he always has a hand playing with your hair. and when you finally kiss, against the door of his bedroom, he tugs at your hair to make you gasp, opening your mouth for him.
logan adores your hair, and eventually you learn to love it too, to no longer associate it with the pain of your childhood but with the smiles he sends you from across the room and the feeling of his large hands running through the strands, reverent. he treats you like a goddess, though he argues it's just what you deserve.
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whoreforjisung · 8 months ago
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Pervy neighbor Jisung one-shot ✨
-Might continue the story in multiple parts if people are interested! I still have many ideas when it comes to pervy jisung
-Content / tags / warnings: smut / non-idol au / perv!jisung pining for new neighbor reader / masturbation (m,f) / ji is a little bit of an asshole / non-consensual pictures / one use of “noona” / drug and alcohol consumption / brief mentions of Felix, Minho, Changbin, and Seungmin
-Names are used as faceclaims only, and do not reflect the actions and personalities of real people
-Word Count: 6.2k
-I am very new to tumblr, and this is my very first time writing anything like this, so it is not proof-read or edited. Constructive criticism welcome!
+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*
As a full-time freelance artist, you luckily had the liberty to pack up your cherished belongings and move to wherever you desired whenever you liked. That’s how you ended up landing yourself in Seoul at the ripe age of 24. It might sound silly, but you had a lifelong dream of living in a cozy apartment with a decent-sized balcony area. When a listing popped up during an impromptu trip to Korea, in Seoul nonetheless, for a manageable price, you immediately jumped on it. It was game over as soon as you visited and saw the beautiful balcony with a wrought-iron spiral staircase. After reluctantly returning home, it was hard to contain your excitement in the weeks leading up to your move. You were already eagerly selecting furniture to buy, as well as decorations, and brainstorming ideas on how to use the space as soon as you finalized the lease.
As you finally pulled up to the new apartment, you couldn’t contain the wide smile that crept across your face as you shielded your eyes from the sun, admiring your spacious balcony. Just the thought of being able to curl up at dusk with that book you’ve been meaning to read for ages on the hammock chair you purchased for it, had you teeming with excitement. It kept you in a positive spirit as you lugged boxes containing your possessions one by one up the stairs and into your new home. That was, until you accidentally dropped the large framed painting you were attempting to transport, sending it tumbling down the stairs leaving hundreds of glass shards in its wake. The sudden noise startling your cat, Newt, from his peaceful slumber in his carrier. He reacted with a hiss and a few agitated meows.
“Would it kill you to keep it down? Some of us are trying to WORK here! FUCK!” You look up from your kneeled position on the stairs as you’re scrambling to pick up the glass shards, and your eyes meet a young man with a scowl on his face, leaning over the balcony opposite to yours. He has a pair of headphones dangling around his neck and is clutching a can of beer, fingernails adorned with black nail polish. “I’m so sorry! I should’ve been more careful. It won’t happen again!” You replied as you continued picking up the pieces. “Whatever. Can you do something about your hairball? It’s making my damn ears bleed.” He angrily snapped in response, pointing towards Newt’s carrier. You could tolerate the first comment, but who did he think he was to so directly insult your pet like that? “Just because I caused a minor commotion doesn’t give you the right to be so rude to a complete stranger. Since I’m no longer disrupting you, Why don’t you close the window, remove the stick up your ass, and get back to your oh-so-important work while I quietly move the rest of my boxes into my house. Sound good?” He didn’t seem to have a response for you, instead opting to toss back the remainder of his drink, crushing the can and tossing it directly towards your feet before shutting the window. Taking a deep breath, you grabbed your dustpan from the box labeled “cleaning supplies” and swept up the rest of your mess (along with “mystery jerk neighbor’s” added trash) before moving the final few boxes, as well as the cat carrier inside.
You were so grateful the place came furnished, as you promptly slumped down on the green velvet couch, allowing yourself to take a quick breather before taking Newt out of the carrier, letting him explore while you unpacked his necessities and began assembling the cat tree. By the time sunset began to roll around, you had made a decent amount of progress unpacking and building a good amount of your living room and kitchen furniture, including your hammock chair for the balcony. After brewing yourself a cup of tea and grabbing the book you intended to read, you finally made your way to your new outdoor relaxation sanctuary.
After situating yourself in the chair, draping a thin blanket over your legs, and taking a sip of warm green tea, you let out a content sigh as you finally opened your novel, ready to immerse yourself into the story for the next hour or so. You made it through exactly 2 1/2 chapters before “mystery jerk neighbor” made his second appearance. This time, followed by a small white puppy and the unmistakable smell of weed. Now, you normally wouldn’t consider yourself to be the petty type, but his disrespect towards you earlier prompted you to throw some back his way in retaliation. When he took a long drag and proceeded to start coughing up a lung, you shouted “Keep it down would ya? Some of us are trying to READ here!” Mirroring his first words to you. “Oh that’s realll original” he replied with a pained rasp between coughs. Rolling your eyes, you redirected your attention back to your book, assuming that would be the end of the distraction.
A small handful of pages later, a loud “YOOOO FELIX” pierces through the silence as he starts a phone call. Placing a bookmark to save your spot, you close the book and set it on your small side table. After a few minutes you return , donning your noise cancelling headphones. You’d be damned if you were going to let him ruin your highly anticipated reading time after a long and exhausting day. A peaceful 10 minutes later, he retreats back into his own apartment- much to your delight. However, your joy is short-lived as he soon returns with an acoustic guitar slung across his torso and takes a seat. Unfortunately, you quickly realize his strumming penetrates through your headphones. So much for noise-cancelling. Completely losing your focus and not wanting to engage with him any further, you decide it’s time to head inside and get yourself ready for bed. After a much-needed shower to rinse off the sweat and dust that had accumulated on your body throughout the day, you continue your nightly routine. Slipping on a pair of panties and one of your many oversized sleep shirts, you head to the kitchen to finish your cup of tea while absentmindedly scrolling on tiktok. After setting your mug in the sink and brushing your teeth in the bathroom, you finally turn into bed and listen to Newt’s content purrs as he cuddles up to you, both of you quickly drifting off to sleep.
You curse yourself for setting your alarm so early as you’re jolted awake by the incessant, absurdly high-pitched beeping at 8:00 AM. You did have a specific reason for wanting to wake up so early though, as you remember your plans and reluctantly drag yourself out of bed. Your first task of the day was grocery shopping, so after brushing your teeth and twisting your hair up into a claw clip, you threw on a pair of sweatpants with a black cropped hoodie and began your walk to the nearest market.
Arriving after about fifteen minutes, you began working through your ingredients list. You stopped at an herb stall with a middle-aged woman behind the booth. One of your many plans for your balcony space was to install a fresh herb garden, so you engaged in small talk with the seller as you selected various herbs to purchase. “Do you sell cat grass?” You asked. Suddenly, a young man with blond hair springs up from under the counter. “You won’t find any here at the market, but I can show you where to get some!” You’re taken aback by the deep voice that comes out of him, as well as his strangely friendly offer. Sensing your apprehension, the woman adds “Oh don’t worry dear, you can trust him! Yongbok here is our designated neighborhood helper.” She smiles at him as she pats his back. “Oh uhh okay. I have a few more things to grab here first, if that’s okay?” You reply, setting your items down for him to ring up. A few minutes later, you finished picking up the rest of the items on your list and returned to the stall to let him know you were ready. “I’ll be back in about twenty minutes Auntie!” He called back to the woman as the two of you walked away.
You found it surprising how talkative he was. He told you his name was Felix, he grew up in Australia, but moved to Korea when he was seventeen, and he loves cooking, baking, and gaming. Even though you just met him, you were happy you shared some of the same interests, and honestly a little part of you hoped this wouldn’t be the last you’d see of him. The short walk led you to a large apartment complex. Felix told you his friend, Minho, is a huge cat-lover who grows his own cat grass, so you figured this is where he lived. It seemed like he spent a lot of time at Minho’s place, as the security guard immediately buzzed you both in as soon as he saw him, greeting him with a wave.
Felix knocked on the door as you arrived at, presumably, his friend’s unit. You could hear multiple voices from outside the door, and began to feel a little bit anxious. The door opened to reveal quite possibly the buffest man you have ever seen in person before. He quickly pulled your new acquaintance into a bear hug, shouting “FELIX IS HEREEE- and who’s this?” He added as he broke away, noticing you. You shyly introduced yourself to him, still standing in the doorway before Felix enters, pulling you both in. Feeling slightly overwhelmed by the amount of people present, you keep your gaze trained on the floor as he ushers you into the kitchen. “Hey Minho! This is the girl I texted you about. You know- the cat grass” He explained as he gestures toward you.
You pry your gaze from the floor to see an -admittedly, beautiful man holding a spatula and wearing an apron that says “world’s best Mom” on it in hot pink lettering. As you struggle to stifle a giggle, he quickly explains that he received it as a gift from his friend Seungmin. Since he can’t leave the kitchen while he’s cooking, he instructs Felix to take you to his study, where he has prepared a small pot for you to take home. As you enter the study, you notice a sleeping figure on the black leather couch in your peripheral vision. It wasn’t until you quietly retrieved the pot, turning to exit the room, that you recognized the person sleeping. He was your mysterious jerk neighbor! You had to admit though, as much as your very limited interactions with him pissed you off, he looked kinda cute peacefully sleeping like that- with his dark, curly hair cascading over the side of his face, cheeks all puffed out and lips formed into a devastating little pout. It was hard to believe this was the same man as the asshole that lived across from you. Once you realized you were staring at him, you shook your thoughts away and silently made your way back into the living room. Thanking Minho and bidding farewell to everyone else, you and Felix began your trek back to the market.
Arriving back home shortly after dropping Felix off and giving him your socials, you got to work putting away your groceries and began to tackle the daunting task of unpacking and organizing your belongings. In order to not burn yourself out, you made sure to take breaks every few hours. During your breaks you would work on artwork, watch an episode of the kdrama you were currently immersed in, play with Newt, crochet, and stretch- even doing a little bit of yoga in the evening.
After you were satisfied with the progress you made for the day, you booted up your computer and logged on to Miroh- a new labyrinth MMORPG you had found yourself getting absolutely sucked into lately. You didn’t find the time to game as often as you would have liked to, but when you did, you preferred to set aside a good four hours or so in order to ensure you’d make a decent amount of progress with every session. After several failed attempts to demolish the octo-cyclops boss of the S-Class dungeon- in order to acquire its exclusive armor set, you were about to call it quits for the night when a random player requested to join your party. You accepted the request from _doolsetnet, sending a gratitude emote as you entered the dungeon for the umpteenth time that night, this time with another player at your assistance.
Your morale was high as you successfully cleared the second stage almost flawlessly, mentally preparing for the third and final stage. It started off well, but as the boss’s rage intensified, so did it’s attack speed. You both took a few good hits, your health bar depleting rapidly. Your helper still had a good three-quarters of their health to spare, and enough mana to cast one spell. The boss only had about a quarter left on its health bar- two more good hits and it would go down. You unmuted your mic to request a heal from your partner, which they promptly offered. With your health bar restored to half-full, and your mana charged for two attacks, you were finally able to hear the sweet, sweet cries of defeat as you slayed the beast. You jumped out of your chair, raising your fists in the air and letting out a loud “FUCK YESSS! TAKE THAT YOU ONE-EYED SLIMY CUNT” as the game rewarded you with the gorgeous mother-of-pearl armor set you’ve been ogling for months- complete with an iridescent helmet showcasing the monster’s eye. You sent user _doolsetnet a thank you message, and attached a gift containing a couple hundred gold along with a few of the rare armor dyes you had extras of. They responded by shooting you a friend request, which you accepted, and a rare weapon skin you also had your eye on. After logging off for the night, you hopped in the shower, brushed your teeth, crawled into bed with Newt in your arms, and fell asleep.
+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+* 🐿️
The day you moved in was a rough one for Han Jisung. All morning he worked tirelessly, trying to perfect the song he was commissioned to produce for a high-profile client. Each time he finished editing and emailing the file, he was always met with a problem. The beat overpowers the vocals, the guitar is too quiet, the bpm is too fast, too slow- it was impossible to please them with this song, and he was going to absolutely lose it. As a perfectionist, he couldn’t let it go until both him, and the client, were both one-hundred percent satisfied. He was running on about six hours of sleep in the past three days, with a concerning lack of food and over-dependence on coffee, energy drinks, and beer. He could barely rip his focus away from the project long enough to shower and make sure his beloved puppy, Bbama, was still well taken care of.
When the blaring hisses and sharp beeps of the moving trucks breached through the music he was working on, he nearly screamed out the window at them to shut the fuck up, but he still had self control. Honestly, it was his fault for procrastinating even though he knew someone would be moving in across from him today. He tried to drown out the noise for the next hour, and when the trucks pulled out, his focus finally pulled in again. He locked in- diligently toiling away at the project, until two hours later, he had the latest revised version complete. Making sure he took all of his client’s requests into account, he submitted the file and began the waiting game. Anxiously pacing around his apartment and biting his nails for another hour, he received an email notification. He sprinted to his computer, not even bothering to take a seat as his hand hovered over the mouse for a few seconds in anticipation. He slid the cursor over the most recent email in his inbox, squeezing his eyes shut and chanting a quiet “please, please, please..” he clicked the mouse and slowly opened his eyes, scanning the results. “Mr. Han, We always appreciate your hard work, and are nearly content with the song. There are just a few small tweaks we would like to- “MOTHERFUCKER” he threw himself onto his couch and muffled an anguished scream with his pillow. He nearly started bawling due to the overwhelming frustration and crippling exhaustion.
The deadline was tomorrow, and he would have to rework the godforsaken song for the sixteenth and last time. He had to make his next submission perfect- or risk losing one of his most important clients. He peeled himself off the couch, sauntered over to his fridge to grab yet another can of beer, returned to his desk, took a few deep breaths, and got to work. There was one specific part of the song that needed reworked. He began playing the same fifteen seconds repeatedly, closer and closer to losing his sanity as he just could not pick out what was wrong with it. Another ten times- still couldn’t place it. Twenty more times, and then he caught it- at the very end of the segment. His full focus on the next loop, he cranked the volume and listened intently, not even daring to breathe in fear of it disrupting his flow. The last five seconds coming up- this was it.
A loud crash broke his focus, followed by the shrieking howls of an agitated cat. That was his last straw. He slammed his left fist down on his desk, still clutching his beer can in his right hand. Shooting out of his chair he flung open the sliding door and stormed to the edge of his balcony. He started yelling before even thinking, just letting all of his pent-up rage out on whoever his new neighbor was. Once the red-hot fury died down, and he actually saw the unfortunate victim of his outburst, he retreated in embarrassment. She was a girl who looked to be in her early to mid twenties, around the same age as him. Kinda cute too, and he threw his fucking beer can at her! God, what the hell was wrong with him? He wanted to crawl into the fetal position and just disappear forever. Unfortunately for him, though, he still had the grueling obligation of completing his wretched assignment. He stretched, cracked his knuckles, and got to work once more.
A painstaking six hours later, he checked over the email again, to refer to his clients requirements. Making damn sure he remembered EVERYTHING this time, he went through a mental checklist. He listened to the full song one more time, paying close attention to the fifteen second segment he had reworked dozens of times. This time, he had swapped the guitar for a bassy synth to create a break at the end of the pre-chorus, and he honestly felt satisfied with the outcome. He might’ve entered a state of delirium after twenty-four restless, stress filled hours, and slipped into a rather cocky mindset. He was happy with the song at last, and the client would be content with it too. Honestly, they were lucky to have a producer like him working with them. He was a musical genius. After confidently re-submitting the file for the final time, he rolled himself a much-deserved joint. He gave little Bbama all the belly rubs and smooches he had missed the last few days as he made his way to the balcony for a stress-relieving smoke.
Jisung took a few deep drags, feeling increasingly calm with every exhale, until his breath caught in his throat upon noticing you lounging on your balcony straight across from him- seemingly deeply invested in a book. The smoke in his throat burned, launching him into a painful coughing fit. He silently prayed that you wouldn’t notice, and mentally cursed himself when you did- repeating his same harsh words to you earlier, absolutely dripping with sass. He threw back a half-assed reply, wishing he could’ve put more effort into it, and was rewarded with a nonchalant eye-roll. Oh, it was game-over for him now. One thing Jisung could never control himself around, was a person who simultaneously gave off the vibes of a dom, while exuding just the perfect amount of brattiness- just enough for him to want to mercilessly fuck the attitude out of.
He decided right then and there to “test your limits”- so to speak. He dialed up his buddy Felix, making sure to greet him as loudly and obnoxiously as he could possibly muster. Only to be met with disappointment, as you just sighed and closed your book, withdrawing back into your living space. Maybe he jumped the gun- and assumed too much too soon? Oh well, he’d have plenty more chances to get a rise out of you, and began plotting his next move as he continued his conversation with Felix. When you returned wearing headphones, and sat back down to resume your book- completely ignoring him, he immediately felt his dick tightening against his pants, begging to be freed. He didn’t have you all wrong- quite the contrary. He had you just right, and the little bit of tantalizing cleavage your tank top revealed to him was the perfect tease, your breasts slightly squeezing together with every page you turned.
He attempted to mess with you a little more, even bringing out his guitar, in the hopes of disrupting your reading just enough to prompt an annoyed outburst. (And maybe even impressing you a little bit with his skills). When you once again retreated inside, and didn’t return, he figured you just went to bed this time. It was like all of his pent-up frustration throughout the week sent itself straight to his manhood. He was throbbing as he fell back on his couch, palming himself over his jeans. He had to use his imagination, having only his limited view of your cleavage to work with, but that wasn’t a problem for him.
You were straddling his lap on his couch, plush thighs squeezing either side of his as you slowly and tortuously ground yourself against his aching length. In this scenario, you had caught him sneaking a peek at you through the window and stormed over, angrily knocking on his door to confront him. You were yelling at him with your arms crossed, squeezing your tits together and giving him the perfect view. -He finally released himself from his denim prison, wrapping his hand around his thick, hard length, and letting out a sigh- When you noticed where he was staring, and looked down to see the prominent bulge in his pants, you forcefully pushed him down on the couch, climbing on top of him. Yanking the nape of his curly hair, you compelled him to look up at you, chastising him for being a dirty pervert. “You disgusting piece of shit- can’t even be scolded by a woman without getting yourself all hot and bothered.” You spat at him as he let out a whimper. “How pathetic” the way you breathlessly enunciated that word had him fisting his angry cock furiously, thighs twitching and breaths panting as he felt his chest tighten. He was so close already- probably due to his lack of jerking off for the past few days.
When you crept your hand up his chest and around his throat, harshly squeezing your fingers around it, he came. All over his hand, shirt, pants, couch, and even spilling a few drops onto his floor. He can’t even remember the last time he came this hard- it was probably one of the first times he ever masturbated. He didn’t even get to the best part in his scenario, the part where he takes over, flipping you onto your back and burying his face between your legs, eating you out like you’re his last meal while you’re whining and begging him to take you, as you release all over his fingers and face. He felt himself twitch, and looked down in disbelief to be met with yet another raging boner. God, the things you did to him, and you didn’t even know him, or his name. It just made the whole thing that much hotter. He’ll make sure you’ll find out soon, though, so the you in his fantasies can scream it for him.
After cleaning up his mess, and slipping into a clean pair of sweatpants, he made his way over to his fridge, and grabbed himself a cup of water. Chugging it down to soothe his dry throat, he glanced out the window- his eyes falling on you. You were wearing nothing but a large t-shirt, barely covering the curve of your ass, as you leaned over your kitchen counter. Sipping on a mug in one hand and scrolling on your phone in another, you were unknowingly giving him some quality material to work with. He made sure to engrain that image of you in his mind, taking note of every detail of your legs, including your tattoos, for next time.
The next morning, after getting a few hours of sleep and clearing his brain fog, he was mortified to say the least. He made himself out to be a complete asshole to his new (hot) neighbor, and immediately proceeded to ferociously pump himself dry to his imagination of said neighbor. Embarrassed was an understatement. He groaned as he got out of bed, heading into the bathroom to brush his teeth. As he refilled Bbama’s food and water dishes, he decided he should apologize to you for his rude behavior.
A little while later, he found himself standing outside your door, preparing his fist to knock. As he heard your footsteps nearing increasingly closer, he panicked and made a beeline to the end of the hallway, tucking himself around the corner. He caught his breath, noticing you exiting your unit and heading down the stairs. He was startled by his phone buzzing, pulling it out of his pocket to read a text from Minho. “Get your ass over here NOW. I know you haven’t eaten well in days and I’m preparing some bulgogi.” He honestly didn’t even notice just how hungry he was, being too distracted by this work, and- well, you, to care. He pulled himself up and made his way over to Minho’s.
He immediately flopped down on the couch in the study after greeting his friends. They knew him- and his current work dilemma, well enough to understand he didn’t have the energy for socializing until he got a good rest, so that’s exactly what he proceeded to do. Seungmin kicked open the door when their meal was ready, jolting Jisung awake. He drug his feet to the kitchen, joining Minho, Changbin, Hyunjin, and Suengmin at the table and taking his seat. While quite literally stuffing his mouth, he listened to his friends converse and argue, adding in a few comments muffled by the food stored in his cheeks. His interest piqued when Changbin mentioned the girl that came by, turning to Minho and sending him a puzzled look. Since when does Minho invite girls over? His older friend noticed his expression, and responded by explaining that Felix had brought her over because she was on the hunt for cat grass. “I can’t deny though, she was just my type. I’ll have to ask Felix if he got her number.” Hyunjin piped up, wiggling his eyebrows.
Seungmin shot him a side-eye, pinching his arm and causing the other to yelp while chastising him for his fuckboy attitude. Jisung on the other hand, was intrigued- asking Hyunjin to describe her appearance, practically begging, honestly. Who could blame him? He was currently down bad- astronomically, even. After listening to Hyunjin’s description, agreeing that she did, in fact, seem very attractive, he rewarded his friend with a description of the goddess that had just moved in next door to him. Hyunjin was practically drooling as he described her perky tits and thick, tattoo-adorned thighs in great detail, prompting Seungmin to manually shut his jaw. “No more horny talk over the meal I slaved away at all day, to prepare for you ungrateful degenerates!” Minho shouted, bringing the conversation to an abrupt halt. After finishing the perfectly-cooked bulgogi and cleaning up after themselves, Jisung walked home, with Hyunjin in tow, begging him to let him crash at his place. Hyunjin lived only a block away from him, so he knew the only reason was so his friend could get a look at you. Cursing himself for his overly-enthusiastic recounting of your gorgeous body- only having seen the lower half so far, he pushed Hyunjin towards the opposite end of the fork dividing the paths between both of their residences.
When he returned home, he cracked open a can of beer, bringing it to his lips as he looked out his window, once again catching a glimpse of you. He quite literally spit out the liquid he was holding in his mouth, as his gaze was met with your ass pointed directly towards him, your back arched towards the floor, and arms outstretched while you contorted your body into what seemed to be a yoga pose. He silently praised whatever god might exist for you leaving your curtains open, and wearing the shortest compression shorts, as he stared- dumbfounded. He could literally see the outline of your pussy, leaving barely anything to his imagination. He wasn’t proud of it at all, but simply his memory would not suffice. He just had to snap a pic. He laid down on his bed as he pulled down the waistband of his joggers. Staring at his new favorite picture,
He began to slowly stroke himself as his imagination ran wild.
This time, you were doing yoga on your balcony when you caught him staring. You didn’t seem mad, quite the opposite, however, as he watched you sit down and part your legs, not breaking eye contact as you shoved your fingers in your mouth, slowly sucking on them. He watched you leisurely trail your other hand down your chest, squeezing your right breast, and releasing a pretty moan muffled by your fingers as you grazed over your nipple. He wondered how your moans would really sound. Would they be as needy as he’s picturing them right now? He hoped he would get the chance to find out. He imagined you releasing your spit-covered hand from your mouth, placing it on your inner thigh and leaving wet trails as it inched further and further to your puffy cunt, obstructed by your tight compression shorts. Still not breaking eye contact with him, you slid the garment to the side, as well as the tiny red thong you wore underneath in his fantasy. Giving him a mouth-watering view of your dripping heat, you plunged two fingers in, gasping at the feeling of fullness. You closed your eyes as you slowly pumped in and out, letting the quietest whimpers grace his ears. You lifted your head and offered him a sexy smirk, beckoning him to “come here” with your two glistening fingers. He brought his hand to his mouth, spitting into it and resuming its position wrapped around his needy cock. The added lubrication allowed him to increase his pace- still careful not to go too fast and risk missing out on the best parts of his scenario again.
He started to let out a few breathy whines as he imagined himself knocking on your door. You answered quickly, grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him in before closing the door, and leading him to your bedroom. He kicked off his shoes somewhere along the way, and you sat on the edge of your bed, instructing him to kneel on the floor between your thighs. He trailed sloppy, open mouthed kisses up your inner thighs as you tangled your hand in his curls. He broke away to remove your shorts and thong, giving him a clear view of your arousal. He caught a whiff of your sweet scent, flattening his tongue and slowly lapping up towards your clit. You responded by pulling on his hair and grinding yourself against his face, causing him to release a deep moan, the vibration had you shuttering against him. He slipped his ring finger in, the cold metal of his ring contrasting with the warmth of your walls caused your eyes to roll back. You let out a loud moan as his middle finger joined the other inside you, relishing in the juxtaposition of slight pain and pleasure, as he stretched you out. You used his fingers to fuck yourself towards him, allowing his undivided attention to focus on sucking and circling your clit. This had you absolutely reeling, crushing his head between your thighs and coming undone, rewarding him with the most filthy, sinful, screams as his face was coated with your sweet nectar. He looked up at you as he sensually plunged his fingers into his mouth, licking up your release, and groaning at the taste. Your eyes glistened as he stood up, looking down at you as you returned his gaze through your lashes. You lowered your focus to the tent in his sweatpants, taking in the perfect outline of his curvature as you parted your legs and begged- no, pleaded with him to fuck you. You promised you’d be good for him, make him feel good, let him use you. The incoherent mumbling faltered as he sandwiched himself between your legs, and pulled his waistband down- his hard, leaking dick slapping against your abdomen. He hoisted your legs over his shoulders, keeping a strong grip on them as he finally plunged himself deep into your soaked cunt. He allowed you to adjust yourself to the stretch, choking out a guttural groan and a “fuck.. noona!” (He has no idea how old you are, he just has a little bit of a fixation on the idea of you being slightly older than him. He’ll unpack that another time.) As he imagined feeling you clench around him- and he felt his cock twitch violently in his hand- he blew his load all over himself, feeling the warm liquid coating his fingers and abs.
Panting heavily, he still couldn’t look away from his phone in his grip, displaying the picture he took of you. He wanted -needed- to know what it was like to see you up close in the same position. After taking a few moments to collect himself, he walked past his window on the way to the fridge. Seeing you sitting in front of your computer, back tensed in what appeared to be frustration, he tried to maneuver his vision around you to get a peek at what you were working on. He figured you were an artist, as you had all kinds of equipment set up around your living room- canvases, easels, and a cart full of what appeared to be paintbrushes and paints. He wanted to see if you were working on a digital art piece, and nearly came in his pants when he finally caught a view of your computer, instantly recognizing the images on your screen. You weren’t working on art, you were playing Miroh- his current favorite MMORPG. He opened his phone camera and zoomed in to try to get a better view of the game. Adrenaline surged in his chest as he saw the familiar Octo-Cyclops he has beaten countless times. In fact, he helped many players through that dungeon in the Miroh discord server he was an active member in. This was his time to shine. He captured a picture of your screen, hoping to make out your username. Sure enough, it was legible.
He practically sprinted to his computer and logged into the game, quickly typing in your tag and requesting to join your party, which you immediately accepted. He got to work preparing his inventory and chuckled to himself when you sent him a cute emote to thank him in advance for helping. At the third stage of the boss fight, he was playing defensively- letting you take the brunt of most of the attacks while he conserved his mana for a healing spell. As he watched your health bar start to deplete, he was preparing to heal you when you unmuted to beg him for help in the sweetest voice. He smirked as he released the spell, effectively restoring your health and mana, allowing you to fire off your last two attacks, defeating the boss. He smiled to himself as he heard your sailor-mouthed victory chant. Browsing his inventory for his rarest extra weapon skin, he attached it to the friend request he sent you before logging off and heading to bed. He was overflowing with pride with himself for being able to send you a nice gesture, even if it was anonymously.
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cameronspecial · 1 year ago
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I Don't Share My Candy
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings:  Drug and Alcohol Use, Sexual Content (Not smut but some sexual tension that is let out) and Mention of Sex.
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 1.1K
Summary: Rafe doesn't want to define their relationship, so Y/N decides to take matters into her own hands.
A/N: This idea came to me thanks to this Instagram post.
Masterlist
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Being in a situationship with Rafe Cameron is just about the most frustrating thing that Y/N Y/L/N has ever done. And that says something because she works part-time at a daycare during the semester. Although, she could equate Rafe to a toddler. He doesn’t understand the meaning of the word no. He doesn’t like to share, but he expects other people to share their things with him. He doesn’t do a great job of hiding his emotions. He is clingy, only in secret when it is just the two of him cuddled under the sheets. He isn’t like most hookups Y/N has had. Once they finish their passionate activities, he wants to stay in bed and cuddle. He wants to make her a bath for aftercare and talk about their day. He wants to act like they are just an ordinary couple who just finished a night of lovemaking. He liked to consider them exclusive. The catch is that he only acted that way in the privacy of one of their bedrooms. It doesn’t even extend to the rest of their houses. Y/N wouldn’t find herself being cuddled on a couch in a living room with Rafe because, according to him, it is a hard no. 
This is why she finds herself watching as Rafe lets a blonde grind her ass into his clothed cock. He didn’t even give a glance in her direction. Seeing him with other girls always makes Y/N wonder if he was the same way with all of his one-night stands. Does he like to cuddle them? Does he run them a bath and ask them what their favourite part of the day is? Y/N couldn’t stand to watch the scene anymore, so she left the party with a shake of her head. She wouldn’t let him keep playing this game of tug of war on what to label themselves. And she has a plan to get him to pull the trigger on admitting who they are to each other. 
——
YN sits at her vanity getting ready with the help of her friends. As she does her makeup, Mable is giving volume to her curtain bangs to emulate the 70s style she is trying to achieve in her outfit. She found a brown patterned silk scarf shirt at the thrift shop, which she pairs with a black jean skirt and brown knee-high heeled boots. Everyone finished getting ready and it was time to add the finishing touches to their outfit that Y/N had bought thanks to TikTok. She hands out a candy necklace to each of her friends, putting on her own after everyone has received theirs. They head out to the nightclub with the goal of having the least amount of candies on their necklace and whoever does will be declared the winner. 
When Y/N had thought up which friends to ask out, she had made sure they were mostly her friends who loved to document every little thing they did on social media and who Rafe was following. With a drink in hand, she laughs as the tattooed brunet leans down towards her neck to eat one of the candies. She watches as Clara documents the whole scene on her phone. Y/N made sure to lean her face towards the camera, so it was clear it was her. The man pulls away and gives her a smirk as he walks away. Out of the corner of her eyes, she catches a glance at Clara’s phone. She is posting the video to her story on Instagram, making sure to tag Y/N. 
——
Rafe sits on the balcony with beer in hand and a joint resting on an ashtray on the coffee. He is skipping through people’s stories on Instagram when one particular one attracts his attention. He leans closer to his phone to make sure it is really her and the tag confirms who it really is. He observes the unknown person bring his lips down to her neck and Rafe feels his blood boil. Instead of placing a kiss in a place only Rafe’s lips should be close to, the boy’s teeth bite into a candy attached to the elastic necklace. Rafe rewatches the video over and over again, examining the look of joy on Y/N’s face. She shouldn’t be enjoying it as much as she is. She should only want him near her neck in that sense. On his fifth time watching it, Rafe notices the caption to the events going on: The girl with the least amount of candy wins and it looks like Y/L/N is playing to win. Without another thought, Rafe puts out his blunt and gets his car keys, glad that he had just started his relaxation so he only had one puff and sip of the possible impairments. 
——
Rafe finds his target dancing on the dance floor with a man behind her. The blue-haired man holds her swaying hips and his lips are near her neck. Rafe can feel the heat reach his neck. He quickly pulls the man away from her, ignoring the yip the man lets out. Y/N turns at the loss of the man’s hands on her hips and glows at the sight of Rafe. The angry look on Rafe’s face doesn’t deter her and she lets him drag her to the back of the club, out of sight of other people. The music dampens in the back of the club. Rafe gently slams her back into the wall and he leans his hand above her head. “Now, what game do you think you are playing at, little fox?” Rafe’s anger converts into a smirk as he lustfully looks down at her.  
“I don’t know what you are talking about?” 
“Ha, don’t play innocent with me. Why are you letting men’s lips near your neck?”
“Just playing a little game, Rafe. I wanna win.”
“Well, if you wanted to win, little fox, then you should’ve called me.” Each word is broken apart with a kiss as he makes his way down her neck towards the necklace. She feels him start to nibble one of the candies like the other men, but unlike the others the sudden feeling of him using his tongue to bring the candy into his mouth causes her to jump. He chuckles at her surprise and makes sure a little more tongue is used to get the next candy. 
“You’re only supposed to eat one. That’s how the game w… wor…works.” 
She is having a hard time thinking with the feeling of his hot breath on her neck. He takes another candy into his mouth, but when one of the pieces falls onto her breast, she feels her breath hitch as she watches Rafe lean his head down to eat the candy. He places a kiss on the place the candy once was, then licks his way back up to her necklace to continue his destruction of it. “I’m changing the rules. I don’t share my candy.”
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abbysimsfun · 2 months ago
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Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 92 (Conrad's First Love)
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cw: Conrad getting pretty spicy 🌶️🌶️🌶️ and not with Heather; references to human and drug trafficking (not depicted).
Follows the events of this post.
As she passed him to put away her gloves, a stunning redhead at Pappy Murphy's Boxing Gym caught Conrad's eye. Though he'd been deep in another bout of anger and self-pity over the death of his mother years earlier, he stopped his workout. Every inch of his being compelled him to talk to her.
She turned with a smile before he could stammer a single word. "Hi, handsome. Did you want a better look?"
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He nervously introduced himself and she told him her name. "Ximena." The word floated from her lips like a song. He was instantly smitten.
"Ximena, could I buy you a drink?"
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They spent the day in a local pub. He told her everything about his mother's death and his distance from his father in the years since. She listened, but she had a lot less to say about herself. "I live here with my brother. I'm a student, and I'm the only caretaker he has. Our parents aren't around anymore, and it's been just Rafa and me for years."
He could hear an accent when she spoke, and most people in Britechester weren't locals, so he made an assumption. "How long since you moved from Selvadorada?"
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Surprised by his guess, she turned defensive. "I don't talk about Selva."
He liked her too much to press and push her away, so they spent the rest of the day flirting and discussing their interests until Ximena invited him back to her place. "You make me laugh, Conrad Gordon. My brother's still at school and I want to get to know you better without all this noise. I hate the music they play in here."
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Once Conrad followed her out of the bar and back to the small home she shared with her kid brother, Rafa, he started following her everywhere.
He lost his virginity to her a week after they met. That night, she told him why she left Selvadorada.
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"I was going to die or they were going to kill me. I wouldn't let them sell me to anyone anymore, so I made a plan and left with my brother in the middle of the night to come here."
She showed him the scars left by the cartel, and a resolve to keep her safe coloured his already steadfast affection. He let her cut his hair when she said she wanted to show him how freeing it felt to change his look. "It's nice not to recognize the person in the mirror, sometimes," she said.
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She told him she was a student, often meeting him at Larry's Lagoon to study but usually distracting him into other activities. One afternoon, she introduced him to an old friend, Jimmy Stefano. "Can you help him out around campus? You're in the same major."
Something about Jimmy Stefano rubbed Conrad the wrong way, but he assumed it was jealousy. Despite this, he would already do anything for Ximena and agreed to take Jimmy under his wing.
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He called his father to say he planned to stay at school for Spring Break. "Sorry, I know I said I'd come home to see you."
Stephen Gordon laughed him off, but masked slight disappointment. He had no idea whether his son was flourishing or floundering at college, unsure how he'd been coping so far from home. "Don't worry, son. I'm just glad you sound happy. You're making me and your mother proud."
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He skipped classes to spend time with Ximena, but made no mention of this to his father, of course. He spent time with Rafa when Ximena said she had late-night classes, taking him to the park to play pirate captain versus sea monster, and talking endlessly with him about video games.
Rafa wanted to become a pirate captain in Sulani or a game tester in San Myshuno. He had almost no memory of life in Selva before his sister left, but he knew it was "the bad place." He liked spending time with Conrad because he said his sister was too strict. "She just loves you," Conrad assured him. "Parents have to set rules, and she can't just be your sister. She has to care for you like a parent, too."
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He realized then how important it was to be a model for Rafa, who needed guidance as much as anyone his age. Conrad had always had his father, but who did Rafa have besides Ximena?
Conrad discovered how she paid for an entire house for her and her brother by accident, stumbling on an argument between her and Jimmy Stefano near the campus fountain. "The deal was thirty pounds for three grand."
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"They said if I didn't have five grand they'd only give me fifteen. They had guns, Ximena."
"They all have guns! Knives, too. Get your own and figure out how to use it. Watcher, please, don't screw this deal up for me, Jimmy."
"Who has guns?"
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"The cartel," said Jimmy, so nonchalant, yet it still hit Conrad like a missile. His stomach turned as he read Ximena's expression. Every lie she'd told him unravelled with a look.
"Are you really a student here, Ximena?"
"No. They're my customers."
He'd had his suspicions, but he'd always told himself he was wrong. Ximena was supposed to be perfect. Hoping against hope, he still tried to play the fool. "What do you mean?"
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She dragged him back home to tell him the truth - how she'd bargained with the cartel to escape a life of servitude to the men who ran product all over Simlandia. She refused to serve them, but her way out was to join them instead.
Conrad was angry, but he couldn't stay mad at her for long. As they lay in bed that night, she asked, "Are you going to break up with me because of what I do?"
"Not a chance. I love you."
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"I love you, too." She smiled, resting her head on his chest as he ran a hand through her newly blonde hair. "You look nice without glasses, Conrad."
"You already gave me a haircut, Xime. You don't like glasses?"
"Conrad, you're very sexy. But you hide it and it's silly."
"If you're going to give me a makeover, what should I get you?"
"Are you asking me?"
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"Ximena, I want to give you everything you could ever want."
She blushed. "I want you, Conrad. But since I already have you, maybe...jewelry? Like a ring."
"You don't wear any rings."
"Because none are special enough, Conrad."
He smiled. "Alright, that's one idea. But say I wanted to surprise you, what else did you want?"
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"You could join me running product for the cartel. Our lives would be made, and we'd always be together."
"I don't want to run product for the cartel, Ximena. But I'm not going anywhere. I'll always be there for you. Rafa, too."
"Right, but what if I go? Rafa loves you, Conrad, almost as much as me. But what if the cartel moved me somewhere else? Would you come with me? Maybe you could be, like, my security. No running, just keeping me safe. Always with me and Rafa."
He'd do anything to protect her, but he didn't answer her that day, refocusing on his studies until he returned to San Myshuno at the end of the semester.
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He'd missed his father more than he expected, and they went for walks in warm sunshine by the Spice Market. They talked about school, and Conrad talked about Ximena - leaving out details of her career and focusing instead on her relationship with her brother. Conrad rarely asked his father about work, but Stephen hinted he was inching closer to retirement. "Chester's daughter Nancy is ready to take over the company, but Chester's not quite ready to retire. I think she's plotting a coup, but you didn't hear that from me."
"What happens to you if she pushes out her own father?"
"Hopefully, a retirement package. Chester may not be ready, but I think I am."
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On one of their walks, they passed a jewelry store, and Conrad made a beeline for the ring counter. A confident salesman smiled as the Gordon men walked inside. "Welcome. What are we shopping for today?"
"I'm just looking," Conrad said. "What rings do you have?"
The salesman beamed. "Are we thinking of an engagement?"
Stephen eyed his son carefully, but Conrad shook his head. "Not right now. Just like, for an accessory."
"I don't know, son. A ring says you're ready for forever."
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Conrad took his father's words to heart, considering what forever with Ximena might look like. He wanted to be with her, but he wasn't ready for a ring. He left that day with a nice bracelet for her, instead.
"Even leaving with a bracelet as nice as that one...she must mean something. I'd love to meet her."
Conrad nodded. "She might be able to visit this summer, if she's not too busy with work," he said.
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Stephen smiled and the Gordon men continued their walk, strengthening the bond nearly severed by grief before Conrad returned to Britechester for another semester. ->
<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start
NOT FUN FACT: Conrad got crab lice from Ximena when they slept together for the first time, which is gross but also fitting I guess. And yet I didn't make it canon because it didn't quite fit the vibe. Plus, he wasn't supposed to find out that early on that Ximena was problematic.
WCIF Poses Used? Various from packs Old Souls Love Differently by @simmireen (when Ximena is blonde), Our First Time by @eclypt0sims (redhead), The Kiss by @simmerberlin (black hair) and Nights Like These by @sakurasims-world (also redhead).
WCIF Jewelry Store? Jewelry Store by Guinifere on the Sims 4 Gallery. Very elegant interior and comes with crafting tables, a vault, charging stations - very nice lot! Needs dressing up with completed jewelry on the counters and in displays to look really spectacular (and I of course went the lazy route), but I wouldn't if I was playing a retail career, and this is a great lot for someone who wants to be a jeweler!
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usedtobecooler · 1 year ago
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follow me down | steve harrington x reader
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a/n: one tiny conversation with @loveshotzz caused a fire to be lit under my ass yesterday, thus this debauchery was written. it's good to be out of the smut slump! 2.3k words.
tw: EXPLICIT CONTENT 18+ MINORS DNI, gloryhole, dubcon, blowjobs, reader has a vagina, alcohol and drug mentions, anonymous sex acts, dirty talk, pet names, rough oral sex, masturbation, no protection.
Maybe this was a terrible, awful, bad idea, but as you sit on your knees in the darkened bathroom stall, you can't shake the nervous thrum of excitement vibrating through your entire body at what's about to take place.
This wasn't what you came out with your friend to do tonight — the plan was to go to this new kink bar on Main, party together and maybe take somebody home, if you were interested enough.
The drinks went down way too easily, the bass of the sensual music flowing through you both as you danced together, grinding up against one another without a care in the world. People were staring, of course they were, two hot women in latex in the middle of a sex club? It was inevitable.
Happening upon the secret bathroom was no mistake, your girlfriend pulling you in through the door and laughing in delight as she showed you, multiple private rooms behind blood red doors, slick grey door knockers adorned on them.
"It's all legit, I promise. No creeps, the guys on the door know better than to let them in here, especially Eddie, he would never," she'd assured, "let loose, babe. Put that talented mouth of yours to good use. I'll be in the next one over."
You eye up the stall, draped in red lighting, creating an aura. Taking in your surroundings for the next who-knew how long, with wide, curious eyes.
The hole in the wall itself was quite wide, clearly meant to be there as the plaster is perfectly cut in a circle, cute multicolored sparkles frame it alongside sharpied numbers and lewd messages.
There's a little box at your side, full of various single-use items you may need or want — disinfectant wipes, gum, breath spray, condoms, lube. You giggle, pleasantly shocked by the attention to detail that the club put into it all.
It's clear that this is what these stalls are meant for, to live out the deepest of fantasies in some sort of safety.
It's almost comforting, makes you want to go ahead with it even more, as you sit patiently waiting for somebody to enter the stall on the other side. Busying yourself with using a disinfectant wipe, cleaning any part of the stall that you think you'll come into contact with.
You're so preoccupied that you don't even notice somebody else has entered the room, until you hear the stall door next to your own click shut. Jeans so tight they almost look painted on ghost past the hole in the wall, nervous hands rubbing at the material.
"What the fuck is the etiquette in here?" The guy laughs, to himself mostly, no other greeting, and it's almost endearing. The nervous lilt in his voice obvious.
"I was expecting you to come in here and just shove your dick through the hole, to be fair," you giggle, picking up your drink and taking a sip, "nice of you to talk first, though. Hi, I guess?"
"Hi," he laughs back, breathlessly. You watch as he shuffles around on the other side, nothing more than a thigh and hand in your eyeline, the side of a zipper. Tighter fitting in that area than usual.
"So, do you wanna do this?" You ask, just for confirmation, veins thrumming with nerves and something akin to excitement, "I think I know the answer already, your jeans are, uh, very fucking tight."
"Shit, yeah. You— you're sure you're okay with this, right?" The man's voice is high pitched, whiny and a bit desperate, the clink of his belt against the stall wall enough to shock you, "I just— I don't do this, ever. But my friend he, he gave me these pills 'n I'm just so fucking horny, and you're, well. You're here and offering, God, I wanna."
You clench your thighs together, teetering between both knees as you get comfortable, "I'm okay with it, promise. I wanna, too." You confirm, voice lilted and dripping in desire, "Can you at least tell me your name, though? Wanna know who I'm moaning for."
"Oh, shit," he grunts, shuffling a little so you can see the tips of the auburn loafers he's wearing under the frame of the stall, "I'm Steve. Fuck, dunno if I should've used my real name but, who cares, right?"
Steve.
"Okay then, Steve," you gasp breathily, squeezing your thighs together once again, relishing in the relief it gives the dull ache on your clit, "wanna drop your pants and show me what you're working with?"
You sound far too confident, so confident that you shock yourself. Your hands shake, brain foggy still from one too many tequila shots and bubblegum flavored cocktails. But, Steve's right there and unzipping his pants in your eyeline, your bleary eyes zoning in on tan, slender fingers that you suddenly wish were inside of you.
"Can you— are you okay with me telling you what to do?" Steve asks cautiously, pulling open his jeans and getting ready to drop them. You bite at your glossy lip, the way the denim hangs almost frames the thick bulge in his tight black underwear. You store the picture in your memory for later.
"I like being told what to do," you admit, soft and sweet, "sometimes my brain gets all fuzzy when I'm into it, and I need to be reminded how to act, y'know?"
Steve lets out a strangled noise, a soft chuckle echoing in the room immediately after, "I'll remind you, honey. Don't worry your pretty little head about that."
Your confirmation, the air of arousal in the small space, suddenly has Steve flipping like a switch. You watch with wide eyes as he tugs down his offending clothing covering his thighs, pushing the layers down to his knees, out of his way. His cock springs out, weighed down by its own sheer size, thick and cut.
"Christ," you mutter, your mouth watering, and you desperately grab for the drink you carelessly abandoned at your side, swigging the last of it for a bit of courage. The burning of dark alcohol settling deep and warm in your gut.
You stare unashamedly as he grips the base of his dick, strong fingers wrapping around it, somehow looking dwarfed now. Your jaw already aches and he hasn't so much as pushed the tip past your lips.
"Open wide, honey," Steve's voice drips in sex as he coos his pet name for you, domineering and strong, a very different version of the man who came into the room just minutes earlier, though you can't say it's not a pleasant change.
Your mouth hangs open, tongue lolling out over your bottom lip, putting on a show for the man who can't even see you. You shuffle a little closer, going cross eyed as the wet tip of Steve's cock slides through the hole. You tentatively flick your tongue against the weeping slit, getting a taste of him in your mouth, before wrapping your lips around the head, gently suckling on the salty skin.
"Jesus-fucking-Christ," Steve groans, sighing blissfully as you start up a steady rhythm, allowing saliva to pool on your tongue and help glide your way along his thick shaft, jaw unhinging as if on autopilot for him. The clean, musky taste and scent of him driving you fucking insane, your hands coming up to touch the wall at either side of your head as you bury in further, choking yourself on him.
You know you're sickeningly wet for it, for Steve. Your core runs hot and aches as you lick and suck every inch of his cock you can get to, whining high in the back of your throat as his salty pre slides down your throat, coating your tastebuds in him. It's almost embarrassing how much you enjoy it, losing yourself in making him feel good.
"Y'r so good at this, baby. Fuck me," Steve's forehead thumps against the stall, jolting you slightly, has your rhythm faltering momentarily, teeth grazing ever so slightly down his shaft. He groans, loud and unashamed, punches his hips forwards until you're moaning around your mouthful, vibrations shocking the prettiest sounds from his lips.
"You're rough, huh? Hands on your knees, like a good girl," Steve grunts, rocking his hips into the stall and pushing deeper into your mouth until he's hitting your gag reflex — your throat tightens automatically at the intrusion and he moans, animalistic and needy.
Your hands move on instinct, coming to rest on your thighs, just below the hem of your dress. Your fuzzy head does the work for you, relaxing your jaw and throat for the impending assault. Your panties drip with arousal, eyes rolling into the back of your head, the idea of being used like this doing unspeakable things to your body.
Strong, tan hands wrap around the top of the stall, gold rings glinting in the low mood lighting in the room. You whine, loud and unabashed when you see them grip the plaster. Mind racing at the thought of those hands all over your body.
"Bet you look so fucking good with my cock down your throat," Steve groans, tiny little grunts escaping him as he punches his hips forward in sharp thrusts, "you feel so fucking good, holy shit. Good fucking girl, taking all of me like this."
You know you look obscene — saliva running down your chin, lips raw and puffy, eyeliner and mascara smeared down your cheeks from the tears that spring from your eyes. Your throat feels wrecked, stuffed full on Steve, and you finally show yourself mercy, hand running under your dress to run over the seam of your cunt.
The slick noises of fluid soaked skin crescendo in the room, filthy and disgusting in the most delicious way, erotic and adding to the senses that get you closer and closer to the edge. Your fingers slip deftly over your slick cunt, working at your clit until you're choking on a sob, body alight with how good you feel.
"You crying, baby?" Steve coos, rocking into your mouth again, tears pooling below your top lip, adding to the salty mixture in your mouth, "You're lucky the walls between us, if I saw you crying I'd only go rougher, I'd break you."
You wail, fingers slipping from your pussy as his words rattle in your ears. Your tongue flicks over every inch of him you can get between the harsh thrusts, swallowing him down and mapping out every bit.
"Can hear you fucking yourself in there," Steve comments, and you can't find it in you to even feel embarrassed, not when he's rammed so far down your throat that you're struggling to breathe and gagging, "so fucking hot, wanna watch. Wanna pull on your hair and fuck that tight little throat harder."
Your knees ache, your jaw feels like it's splitting, whole body alight with the pleasure-pain that courses through you. It's like nothing you've ever felt before.
Steve chuckles, an animalistic noise tearing from him when you suck a little harder, chasing his cock as he tries to pull out. Your core burns hotter with every passing swipe of your fingers on yourself, chasing your high so desperately that you can't find it in you to be mortified.
"You close, honey? You've gone a little stupid on my cock," he comments, tutting at you, "if this is how dumb you get on blowing me, I can't wait to see how dumb you get when I'm buried deep in your pussy."
You whimper, tears spilling down your cheeks as you shudder through your orgasm, your cries muffled with Steve's cock. Your fingers work on your clit until your hips shake, slick drips of your creamy release sliding down your inner thighs.
"Perfect little slut," Steve grunts, hips beginning to stutter in their rhythm, a constant stream of steady praises spewing from his lips, "can't believe you came sucking my cock, I'm a fucking stranger. I'm gonna cum, y'r making me cum, holy fuck."
One, two uneven thrusts later, and Steve's hips shove forward for a final time, cock kicking up on your tongue as he releases inside of your slackened mouth. Your brain and gag reflex barely cooperate, some of his load sputtering out from between your lips as you struggle to swallow it all.
Steve's loud when he comes, moaning so unashamedly that it echoes in the room, and you're so sure that your friend in the next one over will hear him, maybe even the one over from that, too. It's mortifying how attractive you find it.
There's an awkward silence once all is said and done, his spent cock slipping from your lips once you're sure he's finished. The sounds of heaving breaths and clothes shuffling are almost deafening in your ears, as you sober up from what could be considered a mind melting experience.
Steve zips his jeans up on the other side, awkwardly chuckling, "Uh, thank you for the best blowjob I've ever had in my entire life, stranger."
You bark out a hoarse laugh in return, shocked by the casualness of it, though it's so endearing — and inflating for the ego, "Thanks, Steve. It was a pleasure getting to suck your dick."
Steve laughs for real that time, breathless and almost incredulous, "I don't know if this is, uh, kink etiquette or whatever but, I'm in this ridiculous black satin shirt. Hairs high enough that you can see it through the crowd, or so my friend says. Come find me out there?"
You're shocked into silence for a moment, brain running on overdrive, trying to comprehend the invitation to actually go see him, after all of that. You feel ridiculous, how could you be prudish after sucking off a stranger?
"Or not?" Steve asks, with a deflated little huff.
"No!" You awkwardly shout, cringing internally, "Uh, I absolutely would love to, Steve. I'm in a black latex dress, I have a red pentagram necklace on, it's hard to miss."
"I'll see you out there then, honey."
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rapturously · 1 year ago
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SIDELINES.
you haven’t seen jesse pinkman since high school — and he’s the last person you ever expected to connect with. however, times have changed — and so have you.
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part 1. | part 2. | part 3. | part 4. | part 5.
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༄ PAIRING. | jesse pinkman x [female] reader.
༄ FORMAT. | one-shot, multi-part — not requested.
༄ WORD COUNT. | 9.6K.
༄ WARNINGS. | drug use, references to substance use/addiction, past jane/jesse, emotional trauma/hurt, jesse’s internalized hatred/guilt, acquaintances to lovers, smoking, smut, smut with plot, making out, dirty talk, breast play, cunnilingus, hair pulling, bottom!jesse, riding, morning sex, aftercare.
༄ AUTHOR’S NOTE. | I don’t know where I’m getting these ideas, but I have a lot of projects in the works right now. Some are horror-related and some aren’t. Honestly, I’m just happy to be writing again no matter what the content is. Thank you guys for your continued support & love. I couldn’t do it without you all! Peace! ☺️
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The scent of marijuana, pungent smoke, and a toxic amalgamation of sweat and AXE body spray wafted throughout the house, music jacked up so loud that it made your ears ring. You remained at your perch, stuffed along the wall of a stranger’s house while your friends got stoned in another room.
You were dragged to this party out of sheer loyalty to your friends and a boredom that outweighed anything else. Regret rippled through you, nose stinging from the foul smells that hung like a noxious haze in the living room. The drink you clutched within one hand was watered-down, tiny slivers of ice swirling around within the cup.
Some mediocre hip-hop song blasted throughout the house, bass loud enough to shake the very foundation — you were thoroughly surprised that the police hadn’t been called in for a noise complaint.
Grey wisps of smoke drifted in your direction, and you swatted at it with a wrinkled nose. It wasn’t your typical scene — the sort of party, at least. Partying was something you were accustomed to — harmless college parties with drinks and weed, but this was something else.
There were people snorting lines of cocaine off of a glass coffee table, and you swore that one person had passed out entirely in the kitchen. A strange sensation crawled across your flesh — a feeling that you weren’t exactly meant to be here. Your friends had driven you down here, but you were prepared to take your chances with walking home.
“Wanna hit?” A man asked you, gsze half-lidded, lips curled into a less than attractive smile. He propositioned you with a jerk of his head, motioning toward the thin line of fine, white powder sitting along the coffee table.
“No thanks.” You waved one hand in dismiss, weaving through the crowds to retrieve another drink. The kitchen was destroyed, ravaged by strangers with little respect for the home. Debris, trash, and the remnants of marijuana were everywhere. You nearly stepped on broken glass.
It felt like an out-of-body experience — as if you were simply a spectator, an observer who watched the chaos around you. You didn’t thrive or revel within it — you were indifferent. The vices of your friends differed greatly from your own, to quite an extreme degree.
As you watched the swarm of people, all huddled together within the living room, the air became stifling and stuffy, as if it threatened to suffocate you altogether. They reminded you of zombies — barely moving in one place, all drugged-out from whatever concoction of pills and illicit substances were available at this party.
You silently slipped outside, abandoning your drink somewhere on the windowsill as you stepped out into the cool night breeze. You inhaled, greedily drinking in the crisp freshness of dusk, hands roaming over your thin cardigan as you began to shuffle to the edge of the porch.
Moonlight pooled through the wispy clouds as they fluttered through the night — everything was so much quieter outside. The thumping of the bass had diminished, and the skunk-like scent had dissipated altogether.
The door opened behind you, a figure slinking out onto the porch a few feet away from you. “Hey.”
It was somewhat unfamiliar until you’d actually glanced over your shoulder, gaze landing upon a most familiar face — Jesse Pinkman. The two of you made eye contact; Jesse’s face blossomed with a subtle realization.
“Holy shit,” You let out a bark of a laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Jesse Pinkman, right? You went to J.P Wynne.” You hadn’t seen Jesse Pinkman since high school graduation — you distinctly remembered his social circle.
Jesse recognized you sometime during the midst of the party — a true wallflower, despite your popularity in junior high. It surprised him to see a girl like you at one of his drug-laden festivities, but then again, life was full of surprises. He looked tired, skin pale and eyes baggy as he leaned against one of the columns.
“Yeah,” Perusing his pockets, he fished out a cigarette, placing it between his lips. “You were one of the Honor Society members, right?” Jesse recalled your stellar academics and social standing — his polar opposite.
You made a face, keeping your arms folded across your abdomen. “Yeah.” Admittedly, Jesse wasn’t exactly someone you were friends with in high school. Cordial was a good word for it — your parents never would have allowed you to hang out with someone like him, anyway. “We were in Mr. White’s chemistry classes together.”
Upon mentioning Walter White, Jesse stiffened slightly, feigning innocence as he cracked a thin-lipped smile. “Jesus,” He exhaled, reaching for his lighter. “It’s been awhile.”
There was a prevalent exhaustion that hung within his eyes, a loneliness that almost felt tangible within that moment. He avoided eye contact with you at-times, hands fidgeting when you stepped closer.
“It has.” You paused, rubbing your palms across your arms. Despite the acrid heat that New Mexico produced during the day, the temperatures dropped drastically at night. You shivered, a delicate smile creeping across your features. “Did the party get a little boring for you, too?”
He’d forgotten about you a little bit — forgotten about just how beautiful you were. You’d only gotten prettier, too. Jesse felt the sting of sheepishness and inferiority that came with being around someone like you — a good person, someone with responsibilities and respectable morals. You weren’t a criminal — you hadn’t killed somebody.
Jesse almost felt as if he shouldn’t be speaking to you, but he pressed on. “I guess. Needed some air, you know?” He noticed your constant shivering, prompting him to remove the baggy, black jacket he wore. “You cold?” He asked, gesturing toward the garment he carried.
“Oh,” Warmth crept along your flesh, brows knitting together as you shook your head. “You don’t have to do that, Jesse.” It was a thoughtful gesture, something you didn’t expect, but you were freezing and the dress wasn’t doing you any favors.
“Nah, go ahead. Might smell like cigarettes, though.” Jesse forewarned, tucking one hand underneath his arm. The long-sleeved Henley he wore was more than enough for him.
You thanked him, slipping into his hooded zip-up. He wasn’t exactly incorrect — it did smell of cigarette smoke intermingled with the cologne he wore. You didn’t mind, though.
Silence drifted between the two of you, awkward enough to make you uncomfortable as you fished around for your cellphone. Minutes ticked by without a word. Jesse appeared to be a little nervous, and you wondered if it had anything to do with you.
There was a string of texts from your friends inquiring about your whereabouts. It was a little after ten o’clock, and you fully intended on walking home. “It was nice seeing you, Jesse. I hope you’re doing well.” You cleared your throat. “I’m going to head home.”
Jesse opened his mouth to speak, lips fumbling around the unlit cigarette. Surely, you didn’t want to talk to him — Christ, he was practically a stranger. It felt cruel of him not to offer to give you a ride home, or something like that.
“Hey, uh,” Jesse cleared his throat, clamoring after you. “I can give you a ride home. Could be stalkers or crazy people around.” His reasoning was weak, but it seemed to resonate with you, oddly enough. He felt strange — he barely knew you outside of what he perceived in high school.
You knew that Jesse had gotten in trouble with the law in school — everyone knew. Gossip was prevalent at J.P Wynne. Part of you screamed to refuse, to politely decline and endure the lengthy trek home, but a sliver of you wanted to accept, to indulge in your curiosity.
Jesse had always been kind to you in the very rare, occasional interaction you’d had with him. He hadn’t given you any reason not to trust him. It was a nice change of company — refreshing, almost. There was a clean slate between the two of you.
Your shoulders slouched and sluggishly lifted in a weak shrug as you rubbed your hands together. “You don’t mind? It’s on Nauman Drive, past downtown.” A decent drive, for sure — a half an hour or more. You expected him to reject you given the distance.
“Nauman?” It was a nice area, he knew that much. “Yeah, I don’t mind. You care if I smoke?” Jesse inquired, gesturing around toward the garage. He didn’t care about the house — it almost seemed to fade away into the background. He needed a break, time to think.
“Go ahead.” You trailed after Jesse, following him toward the paved stretch of driveway. A 1984 Toyota Tercel sat, red paint beginning to fade and show signs of weathering. It was beat-up, but certainly held a bit of rugged appeal.
Jesse awkwardly shuffled to open the passenger door, and you thanked him, sinking down into the felt seats. The car smelled of cigarette smoke and cheap air fresheners, but it was tidy and clean inside. You placed your purse down onto the floorboard in front of you.
Blowing a pillar of smoke into the air, Jesse hastily finished his cigarette, fingers beginning to quiver as he opened the driver’s side. He hadn’t really spent time with a girl since Jane — but you didn’t remind him of her whatsoever. There were many qualities you possessed that certainly contrasted from her, not that it was a bad thing.
“Do you live here?” You asked, head canting to one side. There were other cars scattered around the block and parked on the street, but his happened to be the only vehicle in the driveway.
“Uh,” Jesse glanced at you, absentmindedly wetting his lower lip. “Yeah, I do.” He turned the key forward, car rumbling and puffing to life. “Bought the house months ago — used to be my Aunt’s.” He clarified, wondering if you would ask about the obscene amount of drugs.
“You don’t think it’ll burn down while you’re gone?” You questioned, lips twitching into a thin smile as you rolled down the passenger window, letting your elbow rest up against the ledge.
Jesse let out a huff of laughter, and shrugged his shoulders. He began to back up, rolling out onto the empty roads. “It’s been through worse shit.” His wry statement only made your smile flicker again, but he vehemently focused on driving instead.
You felt the barrier melt a bit at that — it was comforting to know that the two of you didn’t have to behave like complete strangers. Silence simmered again, settling between the both of you as he concentrated on finding something on the radio. It served as suitable background noise.
“What are you doing nowadays?” You avoided the topic of the party — it wasn’t worth mentioning. A cool breeze whipped through the car as he began to drive, causing goosebumps to prickle along your shoulders.
“I don’t know,” Jesse confessed, cerulean hues flickering in your direction. “Drifting, I guess.” It was the first time where he’d revealed a sliver of his true feelings. The parties were a worthwhile distraction — soulless events where he could find solace in all of the chaos surrounding him. “Shit, it’s a long story.” His laughter was shaky.
“You don’t have to do a full confession, Jesse.” You reassured, playfully prodding at your cardigan. “I’m not wearing a wire.” With a gentle exhale, your tone softened as he pulled out onto the highway. It was almost soothing — driving back home with somebody you never expected to see again.
Jesse laughed at that, running a hand across his disheveled hair, and then planting it against the back of his neck. The support groups he’d been attending didn’t work — there was no comfort he’d been able to find.
Everything felt like some massive distraction from the root of the problem — the residual pain he was dealing with from Jane, from Gale. His heart hammered within his chest, and he looked at you again. Oddly enough, your nonchalant behavior and lack of judgment would’ve been enough for him to spill in a different setting.
“Hey, what about you? What are you doing these days?” Jesse immediately shifted the focus away from him. He was far more interested in what you had to say than his own life. Besides, it would pull him out of his own head for a little while.
The inquiry was unexpected but not unwelcome, causing you to adjust yourself within the passenger seat. “Oh,” You cleared your throat. “I’m in college at the University of New Mexico. I’m still trying to figure out what I’d like to study — getting basics out of the way. I work at a cafe.”
Normal, uneventful, peaceful — Jesse envied you.
You were achieving something mundane yet safe, something that he wished he would’ve done long ago. Maybe things wouldn’t have happened in the way that they did. His countenance became a touch forlorn, but it wasn’t the time to become mournful over the past. He couldn’t go back, not anymore.
“Yeah, that’s …” He nodded, attempting to conjure the right words to say. “That’s good, really good. You know you could do anything you wanted. You were always really smart and shit.” Jesse replied, gaze hyperfocused upon the road as headlights raced past.
You could detect that Jesse was holding something back — that minuscule flicker of pain had crossed over his visage before being forced to dissipate. Your eyebrows furrowed together, and you reached over, gently prodding at his shoulder.
“Hey,” You began, tone laced with concern. “Are you okay?”
Jesse felt his heart constrict within his chest, wisps of air stolen from his lungs. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had asked that — and genuinely meant it. It wasn’t out of obligation, that was easy to tell. He felt his throat grow thick, but he staved off any tears.
“Yeah.” It was a blatant lie, spoken through a clenched jaw. He nearly winced when you touched his shoulder, feeling as if he were souring the mood entirely. “Just, uh … You know, going to therapy and rehab right now. It’s been tough.” A very threadbare half-truth, but it was enough to placate you.
“Oh.” A warmth crept into your voice as you withdrew, countenance softening as you sank back into the passenger seat. “That’s understandable, Jesse. I’m sorry.” You replied, tucking strands of hair behind your ear as you looked out the window again.
Albuquerque was a sprawling city, and as the two of you neared the nicer end, Jesse knew that Nauman was only ten minutes away. He didn’t want to go back to the party anymore — but it might’ve been the best option. If he stayed with you, he knew the pain it would cause. He feared losing people — it was present all the time, a nagging dread that never stopped.
“Don’t be sorry,” Jesse interjected, knuckles tightening on the steering wheel. “Did that shit to myself, you know?” Addiction was behind him. He rarely participated anymore — he was just a silent observer, fueling everyone else’s vices while he withered away. What kind of a life was that?
You canted your head to one side, lips parting slightly as you spoke. “Jesse, that’s not entirely your fault. You can’t blame yourself for your environment or circumstances out of your control.” You were right — but he made the choice to shoot Gale, and he made the choice to shoot up with Jane before she died.
He was silent, feeling the sensation of tears swimming within his gaze. Jesse didn’t want to even remotely consider crying in front of you — he barely knew you. Instead, he focused on the road, taking the exit towards Albuquerque Studios. Nauman wasn’t very far away.
You couldn’t recall the last time you’d had a conversation with someone else that was this raw and vulnerable. Jesse’s discomfort was palpable and very real to you, and you felt horrible. Your countenance glistened with concern, brows furrowing together.
After the exit, Jesse drove onto Nauman Drive. There were rows of beautiful, lavish houses and apartment complexes, ones that he probably could’ve bought with the dealing money. He was blowing it all away right now on drugs for the parties — he was beginning to ask himself ‘why?’
“My apartment is at the end of the drive.” Your voice had softened, hands planted within your lap as he followed your directions. It was a smaller apartment complex but much nicer, your driveway occupied by your vehicle.
Jesse pulled up along the curb — it was eerily silent, aside from the cacophony of crickets that provided a steady ambience, and the occasional bark of a dog. He put the car in park, still gripping the steering wheel. “You got a nice place.” He murmured, a halfhearted attempt to shift the conversation to something else.
“Hey,” After unbuckling your seatbelt, you leaned over the center console, palm resting over his hand, the one that was strangling the wheel of the car. “Why don’t you come inside? I can make you coffee or something and you can just space out for a little while. We don’t even have to talk.”
The offer was generous — admittedly, Jesse wondered if it would benefit him in any way. If he could just lay on your couch, decompress, let the emotion off of his chest. He didn’t care about the state of the house — he didn’t care about anybody at that party. What he did care about, however, was you, and how you made him feel.
It was as if the invisibility he’d been safely floating in for so long was shattered, but there was someone who could actually see him — see the veil he’d been maintaining for this whole time. His gaze finally flickered toward you, who appeared genuinely concerned for him.
You were good — truly good.
There wasn’t an ounce of maliciousness or an underlying agenda. You didn’t smoke, you hadn’t touched drugs, you were in college with a steady, normal job that never got you involved with the wrong people. Jesse knew what he’d be putting you through if he let this drag out for too long. If he fucked up, people could hurt you.
“Listen,” Jesse swallowed, palm planted against the back of his neck. “You’re really sweet, okay? You’re nice,” He wanted to word it in a way that wouldn’t hurt your feelings. “I just — I can’t. I’m not in a good spot right now. I don’t wanna drag you down with me.” That sounded fair, didn’t it?
You could accept that.
If it had something to do with the drugs, which you assumed that it was, then you understood that he was trying to protect you. You wanted to encourage him to try, but the last thing you wanted to do was pressure someone in a fragile state.
“Okay, Jesse.” You hesitated, pressing your tongue against the inside of your cheek. “I just want you to know that you're not alone. If you need someone, I’m here for you. I know that there was a wedge in high school, but I don’t see any reason why we couldn’t reconnect.” You shrugged, popping open the passenger side door.
As you stepped outside, you made sure to remove his jacket, draping it over the center console as you shut the door. Jesse didn’t say anything as you rounded the car — he was biting his finger, eyes squeezing shut as you made the short trek toward your front door. It felt like an eternity until you’d actually gotten inside.
Jesse exhaled, hands trembling as he hastily wiped away straggling tears that he’d been withholding during the span of the whole drive. Part of him knew that he could use a positive influence like you in his life, but the danger that lurked around him, the cloud of loss, he was afraid that you’d become lost in all of that, too.
The deliberation between going back to his house and biting the bullet to stay with you was a tedious process. He sat out in the car for a long time — he was surprised that you hadn’t come back outside asking why he was sitting there with his head pressed against the steering wheel.
When he finally made the choice to go up to your door, the walk felt like a lengthy, eternal drag. Jesse rocked forward, pressing his hands against his face as he composed himself. Back in high school, he was suave — much more of a charmer. Nowadays, he felt incompetent, but it was largely due to an amalgamation of nerves and drug use.
He knocked a few times, skin crawling with a nervous sensation, but there was something exciting about it, too. You were familiar yet new, a breath of fresh air that he desperately needed. Jesse watched as the door opened, and there you were.
“Hey, uh,” Jesse stuck his hands into his pockets, rocking back upon his heels. “Is the offer still on the table?” He’d ask, and your lips split into a gentle yet bemused smile.
“Of course.” You’d changed into your pajamas — a baggy, oversized graphic t-shirt and cotton shorts that were dwarfed by your top. “Did you want to watch a movie? I was about to start Watchmen.”
Jesse watched as you stepped aside to invite him in, closing the door behind him and latching the lock. You had a weird itch for security, especially at night. “Yeah, that sounds cool.” He replied, having a look around.
Your apartment was tidy and very cozy, with a rather comforting aesthetic and atmosphere. Jesse felt a little more relaxed, wandering around in the small living room. The soft glow of a lamp illuminated the plush sofa, scattered with throw blankets and pillows.
As you prepared coffee, you wondered what changed his mind. It was a question that would likely nag at you until you asked. You understood being lonely — aside from the occasional hangout with your friends, you lived alone.
“Make yourself at home,” You chimed, weaving around the coffee table to place your steaming mugs down, settling into the couch. Jesse sat a comfortable distance away, arm slung over the back of the sofa. “What changed your mind?”
Your question caught him off-guard, but he wanted to be transparent with you. He owed you that much, especially after talking to him — after this, after everything. “I knew that I’d be miserable if I went back,” He shrugged. “I don’t wanna keep being miserable.” Loneliness also played a factor in this, but he didn’t really want to own up to it just yet.
“I understand,” You began, tucking one knee toward your chest as you played the movie. Admittedly, it served as better background noise than anything else. “I’m glad you came over.” Your lips split into a soft smile.
Jesse hesitated, glancing over at you as he stayed silent. He was most definitely drinking you in, gaze subtly raking you over as you took a sip of your coffee. For a moment, he envisioned this — getting close to you, hanging out with you, just getting to be himself, or as close as he could get again.
“I’m glad, too.” Jesse confessed, rubbing at the back of his head. He nearly shriveled at the eye contact you made with him, but he maintained it instead, lips twitching into a faint smile.
You nudged your drink back onto the wooden table, wordlessly slinking closer to Jesse until you were curled up beside him. The silence simmered with something else, perhaps a crackle of affection. Your gaze glistened with a peculiar softness, flickering between the movie and him.
Admittedly, this was the last thing Jesse expected — but that didn’t stop him from wanting it to happen. Once you initiated, he decided to meet you halfway, draping his arm around you, cheek pressed against the top of your head.
He’d been craving something like this for a while now. Jane left a void — a massive, gaping wound that he feared wouldn’t heal, but now? Maybe there was an end in sight — maybe there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Jesse relaxed, sinking into you as you cuddled up with him.
Your hands intertwined, fingers brushing together until they joined. Just like Jesse, you were chasing after the sensation of touch, chasing after that feeling of fulfillment — no more loneliness. You’d been dealing with it for a long while, trying to manage the sea of emotions, and this was a nice break from that.
“I understand feeling miserable,” You murmured, head resting comfortably against his collarbone. “Sometimes it feels like you’re alone out on a raft, in the middle of the ocean.”
Jesse’s jaw tightened, but there was a mutual sense of empathy and understanding within your words. That was how he felt oftentimes — just himself, attempting to stay afloat. He didn’t say anything, but he did caress your knuckles with his thumb as a form of acknowledgment.
As the movie progressed, the two of you occasionally made small talk, but you were a little engrossed by the film, and so was he. It was comforting to just be near him — let him hold you, keep it light with gentle touches and whatnot.
It wasn’t until halfway through the movie that Jesse cleared his throat, glancing down at you with exhausted eyes. “Thanks for this,” He murmured, absentmindedly wetting his lower lip. “Would you wanna do it again? Like, uh … Hanging out, or something?” He was intent on cleaning up his place, now.
“Yeah,” You replied, twisting within his hold enough to peer up at him. “I would.” There was something special about this — perhaps a feeling of renewal, of starting something with someone you never expected. You had a feeling that Jesse needed a little bit of support, and you didn’t mind providing that.
“Shit,” Jesse breathed through a soft laugh, visibly bewildered yet pleased by your answer. “Okay.” He didn’t expect that from you — he didn’t expect anything, really.
The both of you were smiling, now. Watchmen dissipated into the background once more, simply serving as ambience as the two of you nestled together. “Okay.” You parroted, lips curling into a lopsided smile as Jesse gathered his bearings.
You had little time to fully comprehend his next actions — he moved inward, cerulean hues dropping from your face to your mouth. Everything about this screamed sudden and intense, but you didn’t care. He tasted like cigarette smoke and spearmint gum — he had a very sweet kiss.
Jesse inhaled, relaxing into you, careening right into the warmth of your body. Every fiber of his being felt electrified, and he became so incredibly nervous — he hadn’t done this since Jane. He didn’t want her death to tarnish the moment, but it was inevitable.
He pulled away, opening his mouth to speak, yet nothing emerged. Words turned to ash upon his tongue, dying then and there as he hung his head, fingers toying with yours.
It wasn’t difficult to tell that he was struggling with this — you didn’t want to pry, but you didn’t want him to feel obligated, either. “Hey,” You murmured, dragging one hand toward his face, fingertips grazing over his stubbled jaw. “What’s wrong?” It was written all over his countenance, this underlying sense of pain.
“Nothing, just …” Jesse shivered when your palm cupped his jaw, shamelessly leaning into the sensation you left behind from your hand. “I just don’t wanna leave.” It sounded so pathetic — he didn’t want to go back home to a drug-laden pit.
Your lips twitched into a faint smile. “Is that it?” You left it open-ended, attempting to stay on the side of not being invasive or pushy. You wanted him to be comfortable.
Jesse huffed, idly tracing the pad of his thumb across the delicate plane of your knuckles. “Nah,” He admitted, cerulean hues flickering toward your face. “Haven’t really done this in awhile.” Telling you the visceral, painful truth would’ve been too much for him, so he settled on something else, something superficial.
“What, kissing?” You teased, keeping it mellow and lighthearted before he shook his head. “If it’s any reassurance, I haven’t done anything, either. Don’t feel like it’s just you.” With a soft sigh, you watched as Jesse leaned back just an inch or two, head craned to rest against your couch.
There was something forlorn about him, a light aura of melancholy that swirled around his being. You didn’t want to ask, but you couldn’t help but wonder what happened. You were able to look past that — he was attractive. You’d always thought that he was handsome.
“You, uh … You mind if we do it again?” Jesse asked, head cocked to one side. He was some amalgamation of sheepishness and a suave charm, smile somewhat feeble as he held your hand.
“I don’t mind.” You replied, but before he could lean in again, you had something on your mind. “Jesse?”
Jesse stooped closer, forehead nearly pressed against yours. “Yeah?”
“Would it help if you stayed tonight?” Whatever was plaguing him, being alone around drugs was the last thing he needed. You didn’t mind him staying the night — you didn’t mind whatever came with that, too.
He remained silent for a few moments, and immediately felt as if he should say no — and against his own inner turmoil, he wanted to be with you. He didn’t care if the house was a mess or if it had been reduced to nothing — he’d rather stay here with you.
“I don’t wanna disturb the peace,” Jesse began, nose wrinkling slightly when you rolled your eyes. “I can crash on the couch.” Admittedly, that sliver of him that was desperate for affection also wanted to sleep with you, but it was only polite to keep his distance until you said otherwise.
“You’re not disturbing anything. Promise.” You reassured, fingers creeping toward the nape of his neck as you tilted forward. “I want you to stay.” You uttered, your own desire for fulfillment and company mirrored his own want to not be alone.
Part of him really wished you hadn’t said that — but once the gate was open, Jesse couldn’t stop himself, and neither could you. His gaze fell to your lips, thumb briefly caressing your jaw until the two of you were colliding into one another.
Jesse kissed you again, compassionate and borderline needy, hand dropping to grasp at the curve of your hip. His free hand still remained tangled with yours, eyes fluttering shut as you shuffled forward, partially planted within his lap. It was enough to make him forget about the downward spiral he was on, and it was as if the plummeting had ceased — for now.
You didn’t know where this would lead, but that was the exhilarating part about it. The uncertainty and the newfound territory that was Jesse Pinkman elated you. Maybe this was what you needed; he was what you needed — you needed a fresh start.
“Hey, uh,” Jesse whispered against your mouth, fingers teasing the hem of your baggy shirt, grazing over your thigh. “Where we going with this?” It was spoken with compassion and concern, out of total thoughtfulness for you. Maybe you didn’t want to sleep with a junkie — he couldn’t blame you.
“I think I know where I’d like to go,” You confessed, head canting to one side. “Where do you want to go?” You asked, idly trailing your digits through his hair. You noticed the subtle bobbing of his Adam’s apple, accompanied by a peculiar sheen within his eyes.
If it was something serious that you were after, Jesse was unsure if he even had that capability. After Jane, it almost seemed to shatter — fall apart. Maybe it didn’t have to be that way forever. Perhaps, there was a light at the end of the tunnel for the two of you.
Instead of recoiling, Jesse held you closer, wordlessly ushering you into his lap, palm splayed out underneath your shirt, resting soundly at the curve of your hip. “I just,” He hesitated, completely enamored by you — you were beautiful. “I don’t know if I can be what you need right now.” He admitted.
You respected him all the more for his candor, hands coming to rest at the nape of his neck. You decided to kiss him, slow and steady, tilting to one side for something deeper. When you withdrew, your lips twitched into a smile. “I’m patient.” With that conclusion alone, Jesse relaxed.
He felt a bit of pressure relinquish itself from him, like a weight being removed from his chest. Jesse was worried that you’d want something serious, something strict off the bat. He didn’t intend on sleeping around, but he was afraid of disappointing you more than anything.
Given the implication of your interactions, Jesse had something on his mind — he figured that the feeling was mutual.
Jesse remained quiet for a moment, pressing a sweet kiss against your jaw, and then another to your neck. “Where’s your room?” He murmured, nearly shuddering in delight when you absentmindedly tugged on his hair.
“Come on.” Reluctantly, you removed yourself from his lap, taking ahold of his hand as you led him down the short corridor towards your bedroom. It was, as Jesse expected, lavishly-decorated and aesthetically pleasing. It far outweighed the dump he was living in.
“Cute.” Jesse couldn’t help but comment, lips twitching into a smile as he observed your choice of style and the many pillows piled up on top of your mattress. Admittedly, it all felt so cozy and welcoming — it even smelled good.
With a playful roll of your eyes, you watched as Jesse nudged the door closed. The both of you were swallowed by the lower, dim lighting of your bedroom, slivers of orange encompassing your scantily-clad frame.
He pressed closer, hands roaming across your body, one palm gently slipping underneath the hem of your shirt to brazenly grab at your ass. Locked in another heated kiss, your hands moved to push his jacket away, draping across his shoulders.
The sensation of your fingers roaming through his hair was enough to make his knees weak, a low groan resonating within his throat. You tasted sweet, like the twang of strawberry chapstick and the citrus seltzer you’d been drinking at the party. Jesse kissed you again, greedily this time, one hand cupping the curve of your hip.
As the two of you fell onto your bed in a feverish heap of limbs and mouths, you withdrew for a moment, getting yourself adjusted. You prepared to remove your shirt until you saw Jesse laying there, eyes half-lidded. Exhaustion was scrawled into his face, as if it were a permanent feature.
“Are you tired?” You asked, more concerned about his state of wellbeing. You were getting hot and bothered, but your own desire could be put on hold for a little while.
Jesse appeared embarrassed, but with the bags underneath his eyes and the perpetual state of tiredness that hung around him, he couldn’t lie to you. “Yeah,” He chewed at the inside of his cheek. “Shit, this feels pathetic. I’m practically blue-balling myself.” He mused, and it made you giggle.
“It’s not pathetic, Jesse.” You reassured, opting to climb into bed and make yourself comfortable. Jesse kicked off his shoes, following suit until he was resting at your side, arms tangled around you. “You look like you’re seconds away from crashing. I think we can put sex aside for now.”
Begrudgingly, he felt you cuddle against him, head near his collarbone as he made himself comfortable with you. His erection happened to push into your rump throughout, but before you could make a playful comment about it, his breathing had steadied.
“Jesse?” You whispered, receiving no response. He was most definitely asleep, and you confirmed this by simply rolling over. His expression was cast into one of bliss, still clutching onto you even through slumber. You sank back down with a smile, and decided to sleep, too.
Slivers of dawn’s first light trickled through the gossamer curtains — faint enough not to draw any attention, but enough to signal to Jesse that it was early in the morning. He’d stayed the night, and even then, it didn’t seem real.
You were asleep at his side, still nestled against him, but beginning to stir. Jesse couldn’t tell if it was because you were really waking up, or because his hard-on was protruding into you. He remembered last night — kissing you before he’d fallen asleep.
It wasn’t one of his smoothest moments — not by a long shot.
“Hey,” As the haze of grogginess began to lift, you were elated to find Jesse — still in your bed, and still next to you. Even being disheveled from sleep, Jesse found you to be astoundingly gorgeous. There was perfection to you that he wanted to drown himself inside of. “You’re here.” You smiled.
“Did you think I ditched or something?” He asked, arm draped around you as you shook off the feeling of slumber. Admittedly, part of you thought he’d wake up and leave, but he proved you wrong.
“A little bit,” You confessed, feeling his hand trace idle patterns into the dip of your waist. You wriggled closer, pressing a soft kiss against his stubbled jaw. “But I’m glad you didn’t.” It was complete and utter bliss, waking up with him — it was the last thing you expected, but you could get used to it.
Jesse huffed, hand dragging from your waist to your face, palm cupping your cheek as he caressed your jaw with his thumb. “Nah,” He smiled this time, cerulean eyes boring into you, becoming lost in the mere presence of you. “Didn’t even cross my mind, if I’m being honest.”
You smiled, eyelashes fluttering in rapid succession before you planted a sloppy, slower kiss against his lips. “What crossed your mind instead?” You asked, careening into the sensation of his palm cradling your face.
Jesse felt much better, no longer plagued by the desire for sleep. Instead, there was something else he wanted — he wanted to pick up from last night. He leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours, hand skimming toward your thigh.
“Lots of stuff,” He began, coaxing you against him as he answered your question in between a series of heated, needy kisses. “All about you.” Jesse confessed, peering at you through his lashes before his hand gently grabbed at your ass.
“Yeah? Do you wanna show me?” You asked, becoming a bit breathless whenever he kissed you. It was accompanied by plenty of groping, ensuring that you were flush against him as the tension rose to a boiling point between the two of you.
You weren’t about to recoil, reciprocating his kiss with a passionate one of your own, stomach churning with anticipation. Your hand moved toward the nape of his neck, fingers lightly grabbing at his hair. Each kiss was sweet yet sloppy, and you could feel Jesse’s hand underneath your shirt.
“Yeah, I do. Do you wanna do this?” Jesse murmured, ensuring that he wasn’t jumping the gun. You could’ve changed your mind from last night — that was certainly a possibility, and he’d be just fine with it. He was partially on top of you, but he leaned back enough to gauge your answer.
“Absolutely.” You smiled, sitting up enough to get your shirt off, which Jesse kindly assisted with. The both of you sank into a rather peaceful moment, blissfully quiet as he wriggled out of his shirt.
Jesse leaned forward again, capturing your mouth in a passionate, heated kiss, his hands finding the smooth curve of your hips. “You’re so pretty.” He exhaled, feeling that little pang of nervousness. He hadn’t touched a girl since Jane, but he wasn’t about to let himself be thrust into the past, not now.
Heat saturated your skin, crawling all over you like a fever. In the wake of Jesse’s compliment, you felt sheer elation, feeling his lips roam from your mouth to your jaw. His hands were everywhere, inevitably finding their purchase against your thighs. He peppered a string of kisses from your jaw to your neck, though his kisses soon turned to suckling.
“Jesse.” You moaned, haplessly grasping onto his shoulders as he left a series of hickeys on your neck. You felt his digits curl around the waistband of your panties, but he made no motion to remove them just yet.
Your moan was enough to make him shiver in delight, gaze following the path of your hand as you hastily unclasped your bra. You had such a beautiful body — Jesse felt some semblance of awe, snug against you as you got comfortable atop the comforter.
Continuing his previous route, Jesse’s mouth kissed down your neck and collarbone, stopping above your breasts. Even your smell was intoxicating — everything about you reeled him in. “Jesus,” He mumbled against your sternum. “You’re beautiful.” It was an endless string of softspoken praises that escaped him.
He was scrawny, with a lanky musculature — you found it attractive in the best of ways. Your gaze occasionally fell across his many tattoos, committing every detail to memory. Your fingers continued to tug and pull at his hair, body jolting into him when his mouth wrapped around your nipple.
A low groan resonated from his throat, rippling across his chest when you continued to toy with his hair. His hand traced down the plane of your stomach, slipping underneath the elastic trim of your panties. You nearly buckled, writhing underneath him when his digits slipped against your cunt.
You felt his mouth suck and kiss at your breast, in-tandem with the teasing ministrations of his fingers. It was feather-light, enough to drive you to the brink of frustration. “You wet already, angel?” It was almost an incredulous statement instead of a question.
Fuck — the nickname was enough to send shockwaves pulsating through your body. Your skin became awash with warmth, lips falling apart as you peered down, enough to catch a glimpse of those half-lidded, cerulean eyes and the adoring tilt of his lips. Goosebumps snaked across your spine, back arching off of the bed.
Jesse wasn’t dumb — he knew that your reaction was from the nickname. He pressed his tongue against his cheek, pressing a string of kisses from your breast to stomach, tattooed hand curling into your panties as he inched them past your thighs.
“Say it again,” It was a command that fell from your mouth, and not a plea. Your fingers happened to tense within his hair, enough to make his jeans become uncomfortably tight. “Please.” With a breathy exhale, you felt Jesse’s lips trace across the curve of your hip.
He felt his heart hammer with erratic excitement, tongue absentmindedly flicking out to trace across his lower lip. Christ, you looked so perfect like this — Jesse watched you, breathing intensifying as you spread your legs just a little bit. He often walked the line between nervousness and confidence, feeling a sense of boldness swell within him.
His breath fanned across the inside of your thigh, lips ghosting over the soft skin there. Jesse’s gaze remained fixated upon you, glistening with a sheen of lust as he finally began to kiss his way to the throbbing between your legs. “Where do you want me, angel?” Jesse murmured, assuming that he knew the answer.
You couldn’t recall the last time you’d felt this way — floating, so unbelievably slick and warm that you felt feverish. Jesse brought out a new level of neediness and desperation that you never thought possible. “Jesse,” You moaned, squirming haplessly as you urged him closer. “Please, please.”
Jesse swallowed, wordlessly following the motion of your hand as he lapped at your cunt, tongue dragging along the length of your slit. You were whimpering, one hand grappling at his freckled shoulder. He was so turned on from the noises you made, enough for him to grind his hips into the mattress.
You sputtered a very pitiful apology when your hips bucked forward, but you were met with a barrage of needy licks and a faint moan. Slivers of morning light pooled through the curtains, falling across Jesse as he buried his face between your thighs. His weeks-old stubble rubbed against the sensitive flesh of your legs.
Nimble digits skimmed forward, one palm splayed against your pelvis as the other gripped down on your thigh. You wanted to sob from how good it felt — he was talented with his mouth, that much was for sure. His tongue flicked over your clit, gestures rhythmic and steady.
A knot formed within your stomach, a coil that continued to tighten, threatening to burst if Jesse kept it up. It all felt like some foreign fever dream, but you much preferred the current reality — Jesse Pinkman, eating you out until you cried. You felt his hand brush against yours, a gesture that was startlingly tender.
One hand untangled itself from his hair, deciding to give him a break, going to hold his hand instead, fingers lacing together. You felt his lips begin to purse around your clit, simultaneously eliciting another noisy, elated moan from your lips.
Your chest heaved with a myriad of throaty, high-pitched whimpers as he sucked on your clit, stars rippling past your vision. No one had ever gone down on you with such reverence and passion before, but now that you’d gotten a taste, you wanted more.
Jesse hadn’t realized it, but somewhere in the thick of hooking up with you, he was feeling like himself again. It almost felt as if he’d been transported back to a time before he’d met Walter White, to a time where he was slinging crystal and simply enjoying life. Each moan, every little mewl and keen that escaped you was akin to music.
“Jesse,” You panted, breathing somewhat ragged as he lapped at your clit. That coil began to unfurl, blistering heat coursing through you, a white-hot rush of sheer ecstasy that caused you to moan and cry out. “Jesse!” You felt him squeeze your hand, a silent reassurance to let go.
Unbothered by the mess, Jesse groaned, feeding off of your orgasm as he lapped at your cunt, ministrations lacking the vigor from before. Your stomach felt like mush, but you wanted him to fuck you senseless — you almost felt embarrassed for how wound-up you’d become.
He was quiet, kissing your thighs as he began to sit back up, wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand. Jesse ogled you, head cocking to one side before he spoke. “You are so beautiful.” It wasn’t something spoken lightly during sex — you felt it seep right into your bones, genuine as ever.
“So are you.” You replied, and you watched his throat bob as he swallowed. Jesse crawled up, and in a flurry of unrestrained passion, he kissed your mouth. You could taste yourself, taste him — it was enough to make your cunt throb again, still dealing with the aftershocks of your orgasm.
“Could you, uh …” Jesse mumbled, erection pulsing and rubbing right into the pliant flesh of your thigh. “I want you on top.” He was used to climbing on top of girls and going to town until he ran out of stamina, but he had different reasons this time. “I wanna see you.”
Your heart fluttered within your chest, and you nodded, watching as he rolled over, making himself comfortable atop the mound of pillows lining your bed. There was something eerily intimate in the way that he spoke — maybe it was just you. It was soft and sweet, enough to make you shudder as you straddled his hips.
Reaching for his belt, you unfastened it, moving enough for him to kick his pants off. His hands moved toward your thighs, fingers caressing across your flesh as the both of you worked to remove the final article of clothing. He was quiet this time, staring up at you with a searing, intense look — it was almost adoring.
He was unbearably hard, hips writhing slightly, desperate to be inside of you. Jesse nearly melted at the sensation of your hand wrapping around his cock, giving it a few, sluggish strokes, thumb swiping across the head before you lifted yourself up just enough.
Jesse groaned in tandem with you as you sank down onto his length, digits tensing into your thighs as you adjusted yourself, lips falling apart. You reached for his hands, fingers twining together. Goosebumps erupted across his body, chest fluttering with an unshakable warmth.
“Jesus.” Jesse breathed, watching as you stooped down to press your mouth against his, open-mouthed and sloppy. His tongue traced across your lower lip, and you responded by rolling your hips forward. He exhaled, reciprocating with another heated, messy kiss.
He released one of your hands, enough to grip onto your hip, guiding you into a steady rhythm. Your pace was somewhat sporadic and erratic at first, slipping into a natural flow once he held onto you. Jesse groans, unable to keep from staring at you as if you were perfection incarnate.
You whimper, using your knees to rock yourself up and back down, sinking onto his cock until he’s bottomed out. The intermingling of your moans fill your bedroom, accompanied by the faint squeak and creak of your bed frame. “Jesse.” You mewl, feeling his lips smack against your collarbone.
What started as something slow and sluggish had gained traction, your pace increasing slightly. A crackling, familiar heat raced across your body, making your stomach churn with anticipation, simultaneously pooling with warmth.
A soft moan tore past his lips, skin flushing with a rosy shade as you careened forward, one palm splaying out across his chest. “Shit,” Jesse’s voice emerged again as an excitable pant, squeezing your hand as you continued to piston yourself up and down. “You feel so good, baby.” Any little nickname was enough to make you preen.
Heat rippled through you, continuing to consume your body in waves. He sat up, enough to be within reach of you as he pressed a messy, sultry kiss against your collarbone, clamoring for your mouth as you tilted your head downward.
Your hand snaked from his chest to the nape of his neck, gripping his hair once. Your motions became somewhat uneven and less rhythmic as you rocked yourself on his cock, mewling and whimpering, noises intertwining with his strenuous groans. His palm grabbed at the curve between your thigh and ass, gripping you tight as you rode him.
“M’close,” You huffed, prying your lips away from his, only for you to press a trail of haphazard kisses against his stubbled jaw. “Jesse.” Another whine escaped you, followed by a cacophony of lewd noises. Your thighs felt a strain and burn from pistoning yourself onto his cock so many times, heat pooling between your legs.
Jesse was right there with you, though he wasn’t entirely sure where you wanted him to unload, to put it mildly. “Where do you want me?” He asked again, mirroring his inquiry from earlier. You slowed somewhat at that question, but he shook his head. “Keep going.” Despite the sting of borderline overstimulation, he didn’t want you to stop.
Both of his hands redirected themselves to your hips, guiding you along, letting you grind yourself forward, rolling your hips up and back onto his length. He groaned again, forehead pressed against yours, skin feeling as if it were set ablaze. The hold you had on him already was rather ironclad.
He kissed you again, unusually intimate and full of desire, digits groping and kneading into your curves. Your skin felt velvety underneath his fingertips, and your scent invaded his senses, overwhelming him in the best way possible. His cock was throbbing, swallowed by your tight cunt as you whimpered his name.
“Not inside.” You cautioned, breathlessly clashing with him again — all tongue, teeth and want as Jesse nudged you back. With your newfound position, legs locked around his lanky musculature as he rutted into you, you felt like you were seeing stars. “Holy shit, Jesse!” You moaned.
Jesse wasn’t grotesquely well-endowed, but he knew exactly how to utilize what he had. He felt like he’d broken the barrier right then and there, bottomed out inside of you before he pulled out, cumming onto your stomach. It was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen as thin ropes of slick seed fell across your abdomen.
His chest heaved with recuperative breaths, perspiration glistening along his brow as he hovered over you. The two of you sighed in-tandem, both coming down from a blissful high. Those pretty, cerulean eyes of his consumed you over and over again, fluttering in rapid succession before he lowered himself to kiss you.
It was slow — too slow, almost, but Jesse savored you, instead. Your nails ghosted across his forearm, tracing around the intricate pattern of his tattoo before skimming toward his shoulders. You reciprocated the kiss with a familiar sweetness, unhooking one leg from his waist.
“Sorry,” Jesse mumbled, gesturing toward the sticky mess that was splattered all over your stomach. “You look so pretty like that.” His tone lowered, taking on some delicious pitch that itched a certain part of you, sending goosebumps trailing across your spine.
Before you could respond, Jesse slipped off of you, tugging on his boxers as he wandered toward your bathroom to grab a towel. It was the first one he could get his hands on, returning to you with a rather adoring look in his eyes.
As you cleaned yourself up, making sure to discard the towel into your laundry basket, Jesse reappeared with a glass of water. It was quite endearing, watching the way he took care of you afterwards without being asked to. He sat next to you, watching as you pulled your panties back on and your t-shirt.
“That was really nice.” Admittedly, you needed it — but it felt better than before, all due to Jesse. You curled up next to him, head resting against his collarbone as his palm moved to cradle your face.
“Yeah, it was.” Jesse murmured, wishing that he could stay with you. He needed to get back home — the house was likely ruined. He’d also briefly glanced at his phone and noticed four missed calls from Mr. White’s number. “I wanna do it again.”
You giggled, nose wrinkling in amusement. “Hanging out together or having sex?” You asked, and he scoffed, lips twitching in a brief flash of a smile. “You can be honest, Jesse. I can handle it.”
“Both,” He confessed, savoring the feeling of your hand delicately tracing over the tattoo on his collarbone. “What if I took you out somewhere, yeah? Like on a date.” Jesse couldn’t believe that he’d asked you, but it was out in the open, now — no going back.
“Okay.” You mused, gaze flickering toward his lips. You would never get tired of kissing him — the taste of spearmint and cigarettes had become borderline addictive. “You can take me out.” With that, you leaned forward, pressing your mouth against his.
Jesse exhaled, reciprocating your kiss with one of his own. He squeezed his eyes shut, pad of his thumb caressing over your jawline. “Shit,” He sighed, a forlorn look within his eyes. “I gotta get going. I don’t want to.” He didn’t want to leave, but he had a feeling he’d be seeing you again soon. His phone vibrated again.
You yearned for the contact when he’d rolled out of your bed, getting himself dressed again. Once he found his jacket and keys, you decided to walk him to the door, standing with him in the cool morning breeze. Sunlight glittered down, bathing the both of you in picturesque lighting.
“Jesse,” You murmured, hand poised along the doorframe. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” You asked, watching him linger around on the front step as he glanced toward his car. After everything that happened, from last night to now, you were a little worried. He wasn’t exactly in the best state of mind — that much you knew.
Jesse hesitated — he didn’t have a viable answer to that. His house was a drug-laden pit, he was beginning to spiral, but you’d kicked him back onto a different path. It was an unpredictable road ahead. Even he had no idea how he’d feel by the end of the day, but one thing was for certain — he’d be okay for you.
He swallowed, and then nodded twice. “Yeah, I think so.” His chest tightened with a flurry of emotions, ones he hadn’t felt since Jane was around. Jesse was absolutely enthralled by you — and he wondered if that would lead to your doom.
With that, you nodded, beginning to turn around. Before you could, you felt a hand curling around your wrist, as if guiding you elsewhere.
“Hey,” Jesse muttered, reeling you back in for a gentle kiss. “I’ll see you later.” It was a promise to himself, more than it was to you. He was reluctant to pull away, but the buzzing in his pocket became rather urgent.
The kiss caught you off-guard, stealing every wisp of air right out of your lungs, warmth creeping across your skin until it burned something hot within your cheeks. You opened your mouth, unable to keep from smiling.
“See you later, Jesse.”
You really hoped that you would.
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sillyandquiteawkward · 2 months ago
Note
as a big enjoyer of suicidal evil characters i LOVE when fans actually put care into depicting jimmy... he's an awful human being but in a v specific and impactful way,... like pre-crash curly unambiguously liked jimmy and was closer to and prioritized him above the rest of the crew (that fucking psych eval... lmao...) which is RLY IMPORTANT to getting exactly how bleak anya's situation was...! anyways ummm i like how you draw anya and curly's noses. also that drink comic of yours is one of my all time fav  shitpost jimmys. that semi-not-joking mass death ideation + halfhearted backtrack is so choice
i think its valid to not want to depict jimmy, especially bc he is a terrible person whos done incredibly upsetting things that lots of people have experienced. but i think its important to not just label jimmy as a monster in general and then set him aside, but to acknowledge that hes a person that continuously choose to do bad things in efforts to self serve and shift blame, and that there is a method to his madness. theres a lot of really fucking interesting characterization going on with jimmy, and while he uses that all to be a shitty abuser, hes still a compelling villain protagonist. its a shame that this fandom is so hostile to any sort of delving into him, to even mention him, unless its surrounded by 300 warnings and disclaimers. understandable, but a shame.
the way jimmy wormed his way into positions of power over others due to the neglect of pony express and curly's desire to "fix" him, how jimmy had his talons deeply sunk into curly who just rolled over for him when it came to his assault on anya. how jimmy was able to use swanseas solitary personality and daisukes naivety to exert his dominance and desire for control over anya and the tulpar which he was never capable of handling in the first place due to his lack of responsibility and selfishness, which ultimately brought everyone down...oh that is wonderful tragedy. the trainwreck, the facade, the hubris, the unreliability. a big house of cards posed perfectly to be knocked over in an instant. sadly everyone knows an incompetent idiot who thinks hes the shit and makes it your problem, everyone knows the guy you have to warn new people about. not as fun when its in reality. but i think exploring these ideas in fiction can help prepare, notice, and prevent jimmys from ruining you and others lives.
and thank youuuu any time i can draw a big nose, or a big bumpy nose, im there. im ready im hype. <3
also hehe i like the drink comic a lot as well. im glad people like the little bits of character i was able to shoehorn into single frames. theres too many comments about "why didnt jimmy put drugs/poison in there" which completely forget that 1) this is all on video evidence, which the crew will be watching back/posting 2) he also has to drink it 3) literally what would he gain for killing the crew before they even leave earth. lmao. jimmy adding monster to what he assumes to be alcohol is reflective of his impulsive spite towards swansea talking shit to everyone (him), but played off as a joke to save face. loooook its just a little jab back at swansea, no biggie. just tit for tat. his willingness to make everyone suffer (including himself) bc one person made him feel tiny. gnashing my fucking teeth
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probably-writing-x · 2 years ago
Text
Armour
Rafe!AU x Reader
Summary: Having your heart broken was one thing. But Rafe watching somebody break your heart? That was something nobody could prepare for.
Warnings: Suggestions of a toxic relationship, cursing, mentions of alcohol / drug dependency, I think that’s everything??
Word Count: 4.1k
Author’s Note: I LOVED writing this - it took me ages but I just had the idea from this gif and went for it. Let me know if you like it <3
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It wasn’t a feeling you could describe. Because, really, it felt like there was no explanation. You’d been in love. You’d been consumed. And now? Nothing. It felt like a part of your future had been torn away in front of you. And you didn’t know why.
For nine years now you’d been dating your boyfriend, James. He was your high school relationship, turned college relationship, and the two of you had returned to the Outer Banks and bought a place together - planning on staying here so that he could work for his father now that the two of you had graduated college.
You’d been living in the house for a year now, down the road from his parents’ home, where he’d grown up. It was weird really, you’d been so certain that you wanted to get off the island. But he’d suggested moving back here and you agreed. That was what was going to keep him happy, anyway. And, plus, him working for his Dad’s company would mean that the two of you were practically set for life. Though it felt strange to think that your life would begin and end here. You’d done it for him, for your relationship, your future with James.
And yet you couldn’t figure out where things had changed. You couldn’t pinpoint a day, a moment, an argument; nothing. One day he was yours and the next he was disappearing. And, as much as you wanted to keep him, there was only so much it was in your control.
It was a day burned into your mind, one that would remain burned there for a long time. The way he’d looked at you, cold and heartless. The way he’d spoken, yelled and screamed when you disagreed. And, just like that, he’d packed a bag and walked out towards his parents’ place, telling you that it was over. Nine years of a relationship slipping away, disappearing into the dark of your first night alone.
Sarah had come round that night and stayed with you, her baby bump growing into her fifth month of pregnancy. She’d stayed with you on the couch as you cried, still been there in the morning when your eyes were tired and puffy. She’d stayed the entire day and helped pack up as many of your things as you could, called John B to get him to help take your stuff to their house.
They lived where the chalet used to be, in a house John B had built with the boys, much bigger than what they used to have. One of the rooms was taken up by the starts of their nursery, and they’d already set up an air mattress in the other room for you, a spare sheet and comforter folded on top. You didn’t sleep much more than a couple of hours that night either, or the night after, and you only slept from exhaustion on the fourth night.
“Hey, (Y/N),” Sarah knocks gently on the door before letting herself in, “How are you doing?”
You pull yourself to sit up in the bed, pushing yourself back against the headboard, drawing your knees to your chest, “I’m okay, just tired.”
She frowns and comes to sit on the bed beside you, her hand squeezing your knee, “So, you don’t have to see him if you don’t want to, but my brother is flying back today.”
Rafe. Her older brother. The boy you’d grown up with. He’d been your first kiss at a party when both of you were too young to know what you were doing. He’d been the boy that picked you up from your first drunk night when your parents couldn’t know you’d been drinking. He’d been the one your eyes were drawn to in a crowd of people since you could remember. You hadn’t seen him since the summer after your first year of college. He’d decided to move to New York - taking up a job in the city. The two of you had sat on the dock and spoken for hours and he ended the conversation by telling you he was leaving in the morning. Since then, your paths hadn’t crossed. He was barely home nowadays. But, you suppose, with Sarah being pregnant, it was a better time than any for him to return to the old stomping grounds.
“He’s coming here?” You swallow the lump in your throat.
She nods, “He’s going to sleep on the couch for a couple of nights. I haven’t told him anything about you and James - I figured it was up to you if you wanted to tell him or not.”
You take a deep breath and nod too, “Okay, thank you.”
Sarah squeezes your leg again and places her other hand over her bump, pushing herself up to stand, “John B is making some food if you want any breakfast. I’d make the most of it, he hates cooking normally,” She laughs, the sympathy still casting a shadow over her bright eyes.
Sarah knew how things were with you and Rafe, as much as she never mentioned it to you - it was a conversation that it felt like the two of you had already had without any words being spoken. She’d seen his face after the two of you kissed, the way he blushed and stuttered afterwards. She’d watched the way things had changed between you when you and James got together, the way Rafe seemed to distance. And she’d watched the pain in your eyes the day he left, like a little window through to the ache that seemed to never leave your heart. And, right now, she’d seen the slightest glimmer of hope in you at the mention of him coming home.
For the first time in a few days, you find yourself actually wanting to get up, get ready, feel a little human for the day. You shower and do all of your skincare, spending a little longer on it than you usually do. You half-dry your hair and plait it instead of leaving it to frizz around your head, and you change into clean clothes from the duffle bag of things that you and Sarah had packed up from your house - well, what was your house.
By the time you come downstairs, John B and Sarah are sat at the dining table, tucking into plates of food with a fresh pot of coffee and a jug of orange juice on the table. One of his arms is around the back of her chair, his eyes bright as he listens to her speak.
“Hey! You’re up!” He looks over and grins as you come down the stairs, “How are you feeling today?”
You smooth a hand over the two braids on your head and smile, feeling like you have to force it just a little less than before, “Better, thank you.”
“Good, well there’s food here if you want it,” He gestures to the table, “And eat up quick because Sarah’s eating enough for two at the minute.”
You laugh and make your way over, sitting down at the opposite side of the table. From the angle, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror in their lounge and the sight doesn’t feel like yourself. Your eyes are dark underneath, something no eye cream would fix after just one use. And your body seems weirdly shrunken in the sweatshirt around your figure. It sits long over your arms and so baggy that you can’t make out the shape of your torso. Your skin looks drier and your lips are chapped. But you remind yourself that you feel a little more human today and it seems to ease the worry for a while, your breath feeling less shaky as you turn back to the food.
“Oh shit, I didn’t realise the time,” John B glances at the clock, “I promised I’d go and help Pope build their crib before I went to pick your brother up - apparently I’m a pro at it now.”
Pope and Cleo were also expecting, due just a month after Sarah and John B’s baby would likely be born. They lived in a house not far from his parents’ place. JJ and Kie had come back to the Outer Banks a few months ago after travelling for a year - though they said it was less travelling and more finding as many places to surf as they could. Before that, Kie had been working on turtle conservation in a few different projects and JJ had been flying out everywhere with her - experiencing the world as a pair. They had no plans of marriage, or kids, or even where to settle, but that was perfect for them; chasing another adventure until it felt like they’d done it all. And you - whilst it felt like all of your friends were starting a new chapter, yours had just ended and the author was yet to think of where the story would go next. It was as if one of the main characters had just dropped out of the pages, leaving the story in ruins from here on out - all chapters of marriage and pregnancy and growing old together disappearing as quickly as James had told you it was over.
John B kisses Sarah a quick goodbye and grabs the keys to his truck, disappearing outside. A chill flurries through the house but it dissipates quickly, settling back into the home they’d managed to make together. You weren’t sure if you could remember your house feeling like that, and when you think about it for too long, you settle on the fact that maybe it never had.
~~~
It’s early afternoon when you hear the sound of a car in the driveway. And you’re sure your ears prick up to the noise, your heart seeming to pause a little in preparation. You set down the book in your hands and stand up from the couch, glancing at your appearance in the mirror quickly and dragging your fingertips underneath your eyes as if to push the fatigue away from them.
“I think that’s them back,” Sarah comments as she comes downstairs, making her way over to the door, “Yeah, that’s them! Are you okay?”
You glance at her and regather your words, “Of course.”
And, just like that, the door clicks open and the sound of two rumbling voices tumbles into the room, a deep laugh that pauses halfway through.
“Hey little sis!” Rafe’s voice seems no different than when you last heard it, deep and intense but seemingly so comforting.
He grins as he wraps his arms around his sister, cautiously as if the bump between them is the most fragile thing he’s seen. His eyes flick down to the baby bump and back up, shaking his head with the slightest reflection of tears in his eyes.
“I still can’t believe it,” He chuckles, hugging her again, “I was just saying to John B that I-“
As he pulls away from her, his eyes flick back to the only other body in the room. The few metres between you. His shoulders and features soften, his body relaxing just slightly. His smile falters, somewhere close to shock, before returning as bright as it had been before.
“(Y/N)…” His voice seems to trail off, Adam’s apple bobbing and the sound of his duffle bag hitting the floor seeming to echo in the space between you, “Long time no see.”
With that, he strides the short distance between you and wraps his arms around you tightly, tight enough that your feet just slightly lift from the ground. He smells like dark cologne and coffee and his hair is longer than when you’d seen him last, his face seeming fuller and sharper as if he’d grown into himself, a shadow of stubble growing darker around his jawline.
“I didn’t know you’d be here,” He comments, settling you back as he steps away from you, hands still gripping your forearms - his eyes seem to graze over you as if checking over.
“Yeah I-“ You clear your throat, voice seeming scratchy as your eyes find it impossible to leave him, “I’m just staying for a few days.”
“God, it’s good to see you,” His brows raise with his smile, a light laugh warming the space between you before Rafe seems to come back to himself, clearing his throat and letting go of his hold around your arms, one of his hands flying up to scratch at the back of his neck.
“I’ll leave your stuff down here if that’s okay, Rafe,” Sarah comments, “Are you sure you’re okay with sleeping on the couch?”
He turns away from you and takes a second to rejoin a conversation away from you, nodding, “Yeah, of course. We all know I slept in way worse places after drunk nights before.”
You’d learnt from Sarah that Rafe was completely sober now - he’d stopped the drinking and the drugs not long after you’d gone off to college, and Sarah still swore it was like a weird shift into his old self coming back. You weren’t sure that you knew what she meant - he’d always been Rafe to you.
“Alright, I’ll bring down some pillows and a blanket,” John B nods, jogging upstairs.
Before you can say anything else, your phone starts to ring on one of the side tables by the couch, buzzing loudly against the wooden surface. The screen flashes up with “James” accompanied by a blue heart emoji and a photo of the two of you on vacation that you still hadn’t removed.
“I-“ You feel your cheeks heat, “I should take this.”
You grab the phone and flee down the corridor, only answering the call when you’re outside, the door to the garden remaining ajar behind you.
“Hello?”
“(Y/N),” He returns, his voice seeming cold even through the speaker of your phone, “Are you still at Sarah’s?”
“Yeah I’m just staying here for a few days I-“
“Okay, I have more of your stuff to drop off,” James cuts in, “I’ll swing by and leave it at the front door.”
“James can we just-“
He hangs up then and the phone feels heavy in your hand, still lightly pressed against your ear as if any part of him still remained. Your heart seems to clench and your bottom lip quivers but you pierce your lips together tightly to stop it, clenching your nails into your palm until the slight sting centres you back into where you were. This morning had felt like a better day, a few steps forward, and within just a few short words you seemed to have tumbled all the way back to square one.
When you turn around and go back inside, it’s just Rafe left in the lounge.
“Where did-“
“Something to do with pregnancy,” Rafe narrows his eyes a little, a small smile on his lips, “But I have no idea what she actually said.”
You nod and wrap your arms around yourself, avoiding his gaze.
He frowns, standing up from the couch, “Is everything okay?”
You nod again.
“I saw you were reading To Kill A Mockingbird, do you like it? I realise I never asked you,” He picks up your copy from the table and brushes a thumb over the worn cover.
He’d given you that book when you’d graduated. You’d read it front to back at least four times since then, sometimes just reading the annotations that he’d put in the margins instead of the printed words on the page.
“It’s the one I gave you,” His brows drop as if in sudden realisation, and his eyes seem brighter like they’re swelling with the hints of pride in his heart, “I didn’t even realise it was the same one. I can’t believe you’ve still got this.”
You fiddle with the material on the sleeves of your jumper, noticing how it seems to scratch at your skin more now, “Yeah, same one.”
Rafe glances up and the pride in his eyes seems to etch towards worry, “(Y/N), what’s going on?”
You shake your head again, “Um, I think I’m going to go and lie down. I should probably give you a chance to settle in anyway, you’ve been travelling and everything.”
With a slight stumble over your words, you hurry towards the stairs, disappearing out of his sight before he has the chance to stop you.
~~~
Somewhere between then and now, you’d fallen asleep. You wake up hours later and the sun has shifted to the afternoon angle that meant it no longer came burning through the window in the spare bedroom. The house is quiet but you can hear the sound of conversation downstairs, quiet voices and hushed tones.
When you open your bedroom door, the conversation becomes clearer - Rafe and Sarah.
“She’s not herself, why won’t you tell me what’s happened?” Rafe says, and you can hear the worry injected into his words.
“Rafe, I can’t tell you for her, you’ve just got to wait until she’s ready to talk about it,” Sarah explains, “It’s been years since you two have seen each other, you can’t blame her for not wanting to talk to you about stuff yet.”
“We used to talk about everything, I knew everything about her,” Rafe returns, “I’ve just… I’ve missed her. And I’ve come back but it still feels like I haven’t got her back.”
You feel the weight settle and flutter on your chest, a weird combination between wanting to run down to him and run away from it all. It felt weird to have Rafe back when you felt so distant from yourself. The closest to him you’d been in years and yet feeling like the furthest from you.
One of the floorboards creaks beneath your feet and their conversation quickly ceases. You take that as your sign to go downstairs, feeling a little more human now that you’d caught up on another few hours of sleep.
“Hi honey,” Sarah smiles warmly, “There’s a box of stuff for you on the counter.”
“Of course there is,” You roll your eyes at her and she laughs a little, “Thank you.”
It’s an unlabelled box, likely one of the small ones you’d used to move into the house in the first place. But you take the lid on top as a sign to not open it - whatever was in there you probably didn’t want to be thinking about now. It could be opened on one of your bad days when you needed to cry. Until then, it could definitely be ignored.
“Alright I’m just going to call John B and get him to pick up some dinner on the way home,” Sarah comments, walking out of the kitchen and into the lounge instead.
Rafe is leaning back against one of the counters, a red solo cup in his hand, his eyes looking down as he swirls around the liquid in the cup.
“I thought you stopped drinking,” You comment, gesturing to his hands.
He chuckles a little and looks up at you, “Yeah, yeah, I did. It’s just water. This was the first cup I could find.”
You nod and walk over to him, leaning against the kitchen island opposite Rafe so that you were facing him, your arms folding over your chest.
“So, how’s New York?”
Rafe smiles, “Very different from home. Sometimes a good different, other times not so much. Just a lot to get used to, you know?”
You nod in agreement but don’t say anything.
“Makes me realise how much I miss from home.”
Your eyes find his again and both of you smile just enough for it to be visible. The air feels warmer between you, warmer still every time your eyes meet.
“So, you moved back here, to the Outer Banks, glad to come home?”
“I don’t-“ You purse your lips for a second, “I did, when I first got back. I don’t know anymore.”
He’s silent in return and your eyes lose contact, yours flicking to the floor. Rafe stretches out one of his feet and nudges at your ankle, tapping you, “Hey.”
You look up and let your eyes return to his, his gaze softening as his words quieten. The tension in you seems to relax just enough.
“What happened, (Y/N)?”
You feel the lump reform in your throat, the way it seems to constrict any chance you have of speaking, the way your muscles feel weaker, like you could crumble there and then, “I don’t know.”
The words come out barely audible, scratching from your tongue as your bottom lip trembles a little.
“One day we were fine, the next he told me it was over,” You half-laugh because you’re certain it’s the only way you can avoid crying, though tears are already blurring your vision, “I don’t know what happened.”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Rafe steps forward and pulls your arms from around your torso, guiding them around his back before wrapping his own arms around you too, letting your head bury onto his chest. He brings a hand up to your hair and keeps you close to him, tightening his hold on you as much as he possibly can.
You let yourself cry into him, tears staining the t-shirt as you grip onto the material at the back, holding him like you’re terrified that he’ll slip away too. Despite the way you need him to hold you, you’re sure that he needs you too - in the way his chin rests on top of your hair, the way he adjusts every few seconds as if reassuring himself that you couldn’t get any closer.
The pair of you stay like that for a short infinity, neither of you wanting to be the first to move, both of you certain that years of emotion is pouring into the single gesture, the single contact after years without. A short infinity.
~~~
That night, you sit down for dinner with Sarah, John B and Rafe. They all make sure that you fill your plate of food first, and encourage you to have the last slice of pizza. They look at you with a sense of relief on their features, like you were back just a little more than you had been. Rafe’s arm settles over the back of your chair, his other hand wrapped around a glass of water. He looks at you when you speak and chuckles deeply when you make a quiet joke. You feel the most human you’ve felt in years.
And when you go to bed that night, it feels less likely that you’ll be lying awake questioning everything, much more likely that you’ll sleep soundly. You change into your pyjamas - a baggy t-shirt and a pair of shorts - and get under the covers, tugging them up to your neck.
Just then, there’s a knock at the door, a little tap like it isn’t sure if it wants to be heard.
“Come in,” You announce, pushing yourself to sit up a little against the headboard.
It’s Rafe on the other side, only his silhouette visible against the dark of the room, the light of the corridor illuminating him from behind, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you,” He whispers into the dark, “I was just downstairs and I realised you left this.”
His hands are wrapped around the copy of your book, the pages slightly folded at the corner.
“Oh, right, yeah, I forgot it,” You smile, “Thank you.”
“You just, you normally always read before bed,” He continues, bringing it over as the bedroom door starts to shut slowly behind him, “Well, you used to, I don’t know if you still do that anymore, I just remember when you used to- I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”
You laugh a little and he sets the book down on your nightstand.
“So, you promise you’re okay?”
“I will be,” You return, watching as he stands awkwardly at the side of your bed, like he’s completely out of place, “Do you want to sit down?”
His mouth opens and closes like he’s not sure what to say but he nods, walking around to the other side of the bed and sitting down beside you, looking out of place still in his clothes from the day.
You’re both silent, illuminated by the slither of light coming through from the ajar bedroom door. On the far side of the room, there’s a vanity stretching across the wall, it’s scattered with a few of your belongings, and right in the middle sits the box that James had dropped off earlier.
Rafe nods his head in the direction of it, “So, have you opened that?”
You look at him and frown, “No, no I haven’t.”
“Don’t you want to know what he’s given you?”
You laugh a little, “I can tell you want to know. Go and get it, let’s open it.”
He chuckles and scrambles to stand up, grabbing the box and bringing it back over. Rafe settles himself back into the bed and sets the box down between the two of you, “Go on, you do the honours.”
You laugh and take the lid off. The box is only half full, littered with a few relatively meaningless things. There’s a couple of your tops, a jewellery box you took when you went on vacation, a couple of bracelets, a photoframe - empty, though that had once held a photo of you and James together.
“Holy shit! You kept this?” Rafe exclaims, picking up a shot glass that had been buried under a few things.
The glass had come from a night the two of you had snuck into the bar near the port. You’d managed to pick the lock on the door, spent hours just the two of you chatting and figuring out random drinks to make. Rafe had poured you shots of every liquor he could find and you’d shared each one, grimacing a little less with every shot as the alcohol started to take effect. You’d left some time after sunrise, managed to stumble your way down to the beach, and woke up hours later with the shot glass still held in your grasp. It had come with you to college, and came back when you moved back home. A little pocketed story that only you and Rafe knew.
“Of course I did,” You giggle, “That was a good night.”
Rafe traces his thumb around the top of the glass, “Yeah, it was I loved that night.”
“Do you remember it?” You scoff, “We were wasted.”
You remembered it. You were so sure he was going to kiss you, then. To kiss you for the first time that wasn’t controlled by a party game. To kiss you for the first time away from a party of laughing eyes. He’d looked at you like he was going to kiss you, but he never did. Though, when you slept, he’d linked his fingers with yours, squeezing three times before both of you fell asleep. His hand, just like the shot glass, had still been in yours hours later.
“I remember.”
The silence falls once again as both of you pick and pull at the rest of the objects in the box. Nothing takes much interest after that, but you find yourself instead drawn to what was missing.
“It’s not in here,” You mumble, pulling through the box one more time to check again.
“What isn’t?” Rafe frowns, “What’s not there?”
“It’s um-“ You clear your throat, glancing up at him, “It’s stupid really.”
He shakes his head, “It’s not stupid, what is it?”
“Do you remember that little giraffe I used to have? My nana got it for me when I was a kid, it’s not in here, and I couldn’t find it when me and Sarah got my stuff. It’s not here,” You frown again, taking out the shot glass and closing the lid on the rest of the box.
“Well, it’s got to be at the house somewhere,” Rafe shrugs, “We’ll find it.”
You half-laugh, setting the box down on the floor beside the bed, “What are we going to do? Break into the house?”
Your laugh continues but Rafe’s stops after a split second, shrugging his shoulders, “Let’s do it.”
You halt in your movements, looking at the way his eyes seem so set on you, like nothing could tear them away, “You’re serious.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
~~~
That’s how, within the hour, you’re walking up towards your old house, it looking eerie and dark in your absence, the flowers you’d planted outside looked dry even after a few days without you here and it bubbled a new sense of loss inside you, like a part you hadn’t thought you’d lose - a mundane part that just added to the rest.
“Do you still have a key?” Rafe hisses from beside you as you both walk up the driveway.
“No, I left it at home,” You return, glancing up at him.
“What?” Rafe raises his brows, “We came all the way here and yo-“
“Kidding,” You smile, pulling the key from your pocket, “This is still my house too until he settles everything.”
Rafe grins, “I like the way you think (Y/L/N).”
You step up to the door and go to unlock it. Rafe steps forward, his hand wrapping around yours before you can move. He looks at you and presses the index finger of his other hand to his lips, guiding his hand around yours to turn the key in the lock. The door creaks when it opens and you both wince, letting it close slowly behind you.
“Damn, this is a nice place,” Rafe whispers, glancing around the downstairs rooms of the house.
You look at him and roll your eyes, “That makes me feel better.”
He laughs quietly and clasps his hands together, widening his eyes at the quiet noise that seems to echo around the house, “So where are we going?”
“I don’t know where it would be,” You shake your head, “Maybe the lounge?”
He outstretches a hand, “Lead the way.”
You take Rafe’s hand in yours as the two of you go towards the lounge. You bump into the couch as you step into the room and he stumbles behind you, hands flying to your waist to stop you from falling.
“We’re not exactly pros at this,” Rafe laughs, letting you balance yourself again as you stand up, your back pressing against his chest.
You glance down at yourself, a baggy hoodie over a pair of shorts, a pair of crocs on your feet, and him, a pair of slacks and a checkered shirt with a couple of buttons undone. He steps back from you and glances around the dark room, pulling out his phone and flicking on the flashlight. It casts a circle of light across the room as you start to look around, noticing the empty spots where photos of the two of you used to decorate the space. There are a few takeout boxes sprawled over the coffee table and a line of empty beer cans, one of them rolling along the floor when you step beside it.
“I can’t see anything,” Rafe hisses, flashing the light in your direction before you squint at the sight, blocking the brightness from your eyes, “Ooh sorry I-“
You both freeze then as a light flicks on upstairs, the hallway light.
“Who’s that?” Rafe mouths in your direction and you look at him like it’s the worst thing you’ve heard, watching the realisation sink onto his face just a second later.
Before either of you can say anything, there’s the sound of feet padding down the stairs, picking up their pace as they near you. Rafe takes a stride across the room, bumping shoulders with you as he comes to a stop.
“Who the f-“ James rounds the corner, “(Y/N)? What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I ju-“
“Rafe?” James interjects, “What? Did you hear (Y/N) was single and catch the next flight back?”
“Hey, no, that’s not what-“ You begin again.
“Fucking unbelievable,” James interrupts you again, “What are you doing in my house?”
“Cut it out, asshole. Stop interrupting her,” Rafe cuts in, and you can instantly sense his change in demeanour, the way he shifts on his feet, “And this is (Y/N)’s house too, you got that?”
James scoffs, folding his arms over his chest, “What? So you brought Rafe here to fight your battles?”
“No, no,” You blush at the discomfort, “I just needed some of my things. Well, no, not some, just one thing actually, it’s stupid, just a little thing… I just-“ You swallow the lump in your throat, “Seb. He wasn’t in the box of stuff.”
“What? That weird giraffe thing you brought everywhere,” James scoffs, “That’s really that important?”
“Um,” You laugh a little to relieve some of the awkward tension clenching your chest, “No, I guess it’s not important but we were just talking, well, we were looking through the box and we realised it wasn’t there and Rafe, um, Rafe said-“
“Rafe?” James scoffs, “You’re kidding, right?”
“Seriously, man, cut it out,” Rafe repeats, stepping forward just a little as if he’s protecting you, not enough to block you off but enough for you to know that he was there, “I don’t care if you don’t think it’s important, you’re done making her feel bad for things she cares about - do you understand that?”
James lets out a laugh that seems to echo around the room and scratch at your ears, sending an uncomfortable shiver up your spine, “How the hell do you know what she wants? What’s this? The first time you’ve been home in how many years?”
“Yeah, well, good timing I’d call it. Something about some asshole that didn’t realise how lucky he was,” Rafe cocks a brow.
“Rafe…” Your voice is quiet, as if you’re shrinking into the room but he looks back at you and nods just gently, reassuring you. And you’re surprised when it works, settling the fear in your heart.
“So what? You think you come back and know everything about her? Like you’re some sort of knight in shining armour?” James scoffs, “You don’t know jackshit about her, let alone our relationship.”
Rafe laughs and steps away from you, narrowing his eyes at James before letting out a slow breath, shaking his head as he walks the length of the room, “Oh you really are an asshole.”
James doesn’t say anything, watching as Rafe strides the room, a harsh air about him you were sure he hadn’t shown in years, perhaps since he’d last seen you.
“You’re dating a woman like (Y/N) for nine years. Nine years. Nine fucking years you had her there for you - picking up the phone when you’d call, letting you complain about your bad days, not thinking to mention it when your cooking was terrible, always always thinking of you before anything else. And what? That wasn’t good enough?”
“This is nothing to do with you Cameron,” James defends, shifting his stance.
“You hurt (Y/N),” Rafe steps forward until he is less than a foot from James, staring at him coldly, “That means it does have something to do with me. In fact, it has a hell of a lot to do with me.”
You’re watching the scene unfold as if it’s fiction, as if this is a cross between a dream and a nightmare that you were about to wake up from. This Rafe isn’t the same boy that he was with you, he’s never this cold with you. But with someone that had done you wrong? He was a completely different version of himself.
He’s close enough to James now that you’re practically counting down the seconds until he’ll swing a fist at him, it’s inevitable. But you shift in your spot and he glances back to look at you, his eyes softening when they meet with yours. His brows relax and the features of his face do with them, settling into himself a little. His lips smile a little against the tension in his jaw and he takes a deep breath in, turning back to James.
“I don’t know what you’re doing. I don’t know what you think you’re gaining from all of this. But we’re gonna go now,” Rafe’s words don’t shift from their blunt tone, each word feeling calculated and exact, “And you’re going to go to bed, in a house that’s not fully yours, in a bed you used to share. And you’re going to wake up the next morning and the morning after that and again and again, and every time you’ll be on your own. You might not realise it now, maybe not tomorrow or the day after, but you’ll realise it. You’ll realise that every single day you’re waking up without (Y/N) here, you’re missing the one damn thing that made your life worth it.”
He clenches his jaw again and watches as James swallows the lump in his throat, his eyes flicking to you.
“Oh, here it is,” Rafe reaches down to the couch and picks up the toy giraffe you’d been looking for, holding it in his hand, “Good seeing you, James.”
He hits your ex on his chest as if a friendly gesture but it knocks James back just enough for him to be reminded of his place. Rafe looks back at you and offers you the same smile as before, offering you your exit as you make your way over to him. He lets you step in front and places a hand to your back, guiding you out of the house, slamming the door behind the two of you. And for the first time since you’d left this house days ago, you feel alive.
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honkthehenry · 1 year ago
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unnamed slime game - part 1
Masterlist
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The way you suddenly snapped into awareness without realizing you drifted off at all was something akin to having a bucket of ice-cold water thrown into your face.
You... dozed off in class again. In hindsight, it was inevitable – the last time you got hours of sleep instead of something in-between nothing at all and a 2-hour-nap was last Saturday. You've been running on nothing but bitter, cheap coffee and sheer spite for almost a week now, it was high time you finally crashed.
Still, you should have woken up at Uni. You should have woken up to your professor huffing and puffing and glowering in your face about your terrible conduct, about how your generation had no respect for his generation, about how such a complicated and beautiful science like Robotics was not a place for slackers like you (which, fair, you had no idea what you were doing in Robotics either), not... alone and certaintly not in the middle of a forest.
You ran through a bunch of scenarios quickly, but none stuck.
Kidnapping? Far-fetched at best. You lived alone, only barely making ends meet by running yourself into the ground as you tried to marry working retail with being a full-time student, so ransom was out of the question and being kidnapped for the sake of doing bad things to you... Why bother? You didn't know anyone nearly well enough to be kidnapped due to personal feelings and you were neither good-looking enough (perpetually tired goblin that you were) nor famous-, connected- or skilled enough to be kidnapped randomly.
Besides, you were at the University, on the 5th floor, in the middle of the city that had no forests for miles! You were surrounded by 20-odd other people, there was no way someone would be able to kidnap you with so many witnesses around.
So, not kidnapping.
Dream then?
Also unlikely. Your dreams were few and far-between and when they did happen, it was either you being surrounded by characters from the show you happened to be fixated on at the time or it was you getting repeatedly chased and swallowed whole by a dinosaur on a loop, until the dream finally ended (probably Jurasic Park childhood trauma, now that you thought about it).
Still.
This was so weird, because you knew for a fact you were much too aware of everything to be dreaming and yet the things you saw didn't makes sense at all!
You didn't have any arms for one!
And your body was purple!
You could feel electricity zapping at your body and it didn't hurt, it was more like being swallowed in a blanket burrito and nursing a comforting mug of hot chocolate, while watching your favourite show with no worry for deadlines or money!
You weren't supposed to feel like that, you were supposed to be tired and grumpy and irritable and not nice and not toasty and certaintly not so comfortable!
Drugs? Hallucinations? You never partaked, you didn't drink alcohol either, so that was a no—
—A purple crystal you were under zapped at you again and you positively melted on the spot, basking in the feeling and letting the troublesome train of thought go like the wind, before it inevitably derailed and caused you undue anxiety as it always did.
...it was very nice actually.
Maybe losing opposable thumbs wasn't so bad if you got this in exchange.
You could live like this.
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×•×•×•× Honk!!! Corner ווו×
You know that one post lurking on Tumblr where OP is turned into a frog by a witch as revenge? And just vibes? Basks in the sun without worrying about life? This is MC now.
I don't care how long or how short chapters are, they're just gonna vibe as they are because I am a goblin with a short attention span and no actual ability to write.
Something to get you thinking - MC is an electro slime for a reason and that reason is electro immunity.
I wonder why?
*smiling like a particularly smug cat*
Did I mention I can't draw lightning/electricity? Because I can't, so I didn't.
Also fvck me, my tags didn't saveeeeee 😭
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chsopnk · 5 months ago
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「 ✦ LINES CROSSED ✦ 」
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☆. # SHIP — roy harper x fem!reader
☆. # AUTHOR’S NOTE — uni au. campus dealer roy, and you’re president of the student council. just some more of me getting back into writing. this is horrible. pls help, wth. this is the MOST generic pos i think ive ever written but have fun with it ig? <33
☆. # WARNINGS — drug dealing
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You were a storm in the middle of a crisp autumn day. People noticed when you entered a room–student council president, pre-law major, the golden girl of the University. Everything about you screamed control. You wore your authority like a tailored suit, every hair in place, every word you spoke calculated. Most people assumed that beneath the sharp intelligence and no-nonsense demeanor, there was no room for chaos.
But they were wrong.
Roy Harper was your chaos. The campus drug dealer who lurked in the shadows of the campus parking lots and frat parties; he was everything you weren’t supposed to be associated with. His scruffy jeans, leather jacket, and devil-may-care attitude made him look like trouble, which he was. But he was also addictive.
You’d started… whatever this was last semester. It was supposed to be one night, a lapse in judgement on your part–a release from the pressure of balancing academics, student council meetings, and constant security. Yet, here you were, six months later, tangled in each other’s lives in ways that made no sense.
- - -
The campus was quiet this late, most students tucked away in their dorms or out drinking. You slipped through the back door of the library, your heart pounding despite the dozens of times you’d done this before. Your phone buzzed.
Roy: Waiting. Don’t leave me hanging.
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at your lips. The message was typical Roy–cocky, casual, like he didn’t care one way or another if you showed up. But you knew better. Beneath that nonchalance was something more, something dangerous.
You found him behind the old oak tree near the edge of campus, the same spot you always met. He was leaning against the trunk, one foot propped up on it, cigarette in hand, the smoke curling around him like a halo of sin. When he saw you, he didn’t move, didn’t speak, just watched as you approached, his eyes gleaming with that infuriating mix of amusement and something hotter, something more possessive.
“(LAST NAME),” he greeted you, taking a long drag of his cigarette. “I was beginning to think you were too busy running this place to slum it with me.”
“Shut up,” you snapped, but there was no heat behind it. You stepped closer, until you were right in front of him, close enough to smell the smoke on his clothes and the faint scent of cologne that always clung to him. “You know why I’m here.”
“Yeah, I do,” Roy replied, a slow, wicked smile spreading across his face. He flicked the cigarette away and reached for you, his hands sliding around your waist with practiced ease. “Can’t stay away, can you, princess?”
You hated the way your body responded to him, the way your breath hitched as his fingers traced the line of your spine. You hated the way he knew exactly how to get under your skin and to make you forget, even if just for a little while, who you were supposed to be.
“You’re a bad idea,” you muttered, your hands gripping his jacket, pulling him closer despite your words.
“Worst idea you’ve ever had,” he agreed, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “But you love it.”
Before you could argue–or agree, because dammit, he was right–he kissed you. It wasn’t gentle. It never was with Roy. He kissed like he lived–recklessly, with a hunger that made your head spin. You pressed yourself against him, letting the taste of smoke and danger wash over you, drowning out the noise in your head that constantly reminded you of all the reasons this was wrong.
You stumbled together, your bodies a frantic mess of hands and mouths as you found some semblance of privacy behind the tree. It was always like this–fast, intense, like you couldn’t get enough of each other. Like this might be the last time, even though you both knew it wouldn’t be.
When you finally pulled apart, breathless and flushed, Roy rested his forehead against yours, his hands still gripping your hips as if he didn’t want to let go.
“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he murmured, his voice uncharacteristically soft.
“Right back at you,” you relied, and for a moment, you just stood there, the night air cooling your heated skin. You could feel the weight of everything unsaid between them, the unspoken rules you’d set���your arrangement was simple. No feelings, no complications. Just release.
But it wasn’t that simple anymore. It hadn’t been for a while.
“I have a meeting tomorrow,” you said, breaking the silence, trying to ground yourself in the reality of who you were supposed to be. “I shouldn’t be here.”
“Then go,” Roy challenged, his voice hardening again, the vulnerability gone as quickly as it had appeared. “No one’s making you stay.”
You looked up at him, his face half-shadowed by the moonlight. It would be so easy to walk away, to pretend this was just another mistake, to bury yourself in the life you were supposed to lead.
But you didn’t move. You stayed right there in his arms, because as much as you hated it, this was the only place you felt free.
“You’re impossible,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him.
He chuckled, the sound low and dangerous, and kissed you again, slow and deliberate this time. “Good thing you like impossible.”
As you melted into him, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, the lines you’d drawn weren’t as clear as you thought.
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