#and you’re TELLING ME? and you’re SERIOUS? and not LYING? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gretavanmoon · 4 hours ago

Text

VERGE OF OBSCENE

Jake x female reader, Danny x female reader

14k words

+ Reader is faced with making a decision that she didn't anticipate when she left the bar, one night. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, she refuses to end her night on a bad note.

+ Hello friends! Tomorrow is my birthday, so I decided to gift you all with a little sum sum Danny and Jake. This story spawned from an idea @moonlightisdancing so graciously shared with me, so hopefully I did it justice ;) Enjoyyyyy

Thankies to @gretavangroupie for the read thruuu

Warnings: 18+! Angst: Cursing, Drinking, Bar Scene, Erratic/Unsafe Driving, Lying, Slight Jealousy, Unclean Thoughts

Y/N being a little heaux / Asshole Danny (I'm sorry don't k!ll me)

Smut: Kissing, Heavy Flirting, Dirty Talk, Touching, Penetrative Sex, Unprotected Sex, Fingering, Oral Sex (M! and F! Receiving)

“Let’s get the fuck out of here, huh?” Danny says into your ear, his breath hot and spiced with the scent of dark rum as it melts you into a puddle of nothing on the floor. His hands are placed lightly on your hips, holding you up steady as your group of friends begins making its way toward the exit of the crowded club.

“Mhmm,” you nod, your hair falling in front of your face as you fight the urge to arch your back into him. Your eyes have begun to blur on their own, the alcohol and the atmosphere seeping into your system in the most delicious way. Your body begs you to let him know that the feeling is mutual, but before you can, he pulls away, sliding his phone out of his pocket as he sips down the very last of his icy drink.

“I’ll order an uber,” he says, crunching on a piece of ice as his eyes drift from your face all the way down to the black strapped heels you’d chosen tonight.

“Bitch, you’re drunk,” your best friend Jasmine giggles in your ear, taking the place of Danny as she grabs your hand in hers, still halfway dancing as she pulls you toward the doors.

“I’m not, Jas,” you laugh, wishing that you hadn’t worn these high heels. “I mean I am, I’m just… I think I’m more exhausted than anything. I haven’t danced that much in years.”

Her hand is reassuring in yours as she guides the two of you, her own unsteadiness on her feet making you laugh.

“Yeah, exhausted from eye-fucking Jake all night,” she squeals.

“Jasmine!” you yell, your eyes wide as your stomach drops, hoping that none of the other members in your group heard her. You stop the two of you and yank her hand from yours, gritting your teeth as you scold her. “I was not eye-fucking Jake. And you know that.”

“Sure babe, keep telling yourself that,” she raises her eyebrows. “My vision might be blurry, but I’m not blind.”

It’s pretty widely known within your circle that you and Danny have something going on, that something being more of a situationship with no actual boundaries or titles or anything. The two of you usually ended up making out at the end of the night, a little touching and whatnot, but it has never gone further than that. Neither of you are in the market for anything serious, so you’ve taken to letting him be your go-to on those lonely late nights, sending him risqué photos of you in the mirror after a few glasses of wine.

But Jake… Jake has been your good friend since college. The guy that was always there to accompany you to social events, pick you up from parties, and cram last minute for exams with you. He’d always been that guy you could call on for anything and everything, the one you felt completely comfortable with in any situation.

“Just admit it, dummy,” Jasmine belts as you near the crowded exit doors, her arm in yours.

“There’s nothing to admit,” you whisper. “I mean…look at him, he looks completely fuckable tonight, so I took a few glances. Sue me.” You roll your eyes at her as you watch her gaze covertly float back to Jake, standing amongst the rest of your group.

“God, you’re right. He’s been looking exceptionally delicious lately, hasn’t he?” she purrs.

“Mmmhm…” you agree, making sure not to look at him.

It’s true, though Jake has always been good looking, lately there has been something special about him, something magnified in his persona, something devious in his aura. He’s changed up his attire a little, now donning sleek suit jackets and silver jewelry on his wrists and neck, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t prefer the way he’s been slicking his hair back into a tight knot at his neck. Over the past few months he’s become a lot more sophisticated and sure of himself, a complete 180 from the silly guy you never thought twice about.

Lately he has seemed so much more confident in himself, and it literally drips from him. He’s sexy in his own way, that’s for damn sure, but these past few months you’ve caught yourself looking at him for longer than a few seconds, staring at his hands as he did literally anything, and finding yourself swept up in the way his lips danced across his teeth. And if it weren’t for Danny occupying most of your thoughts lately, you may actually picture Jake in those dirty daydreams, instead of him.

As conversation takes a pause you do sneak a glance at Jake, his elbow leaned against the bar with the other tucked away in his pocket. He’s eyeing you hard, and he doesn’t make any attempt to look away when you catch him. Fuck, he looks so goddamned good tonight. But why isn’t he looking away?

You feel your stomach muscles tense just from the way his hooded eyes are staring you down, confident and obvious as he chews on the tiny black straw that once stirred his whiskey rocks. Fuck, fuck, fuck! He’s fine… he’s so fine. Jake. Friend Jake. Friend Jake?

“What I wouldn’t give to experience a good old fashioned romp with him, though,” Jasmine says, breaking the stare-down you and Jake had caught yourselves in.

“Huh?” you say. “Danny?”

“Yes bitch. His long arms, his big hands… mmh. You lucky, lucky dog, being his sneaky link,” Jasmine goes on.

“Jas, we haven’t even slept together, yet,” you admit quietly.

She looks at you in disbelief. “Are you serious?! Why?”

You shrug. “Just.. hasn’t happened yet, I guess.”

“It’s going to though, right?” she asks, and you know she just wants to live vicariously.

You look back at her, knowing that yes, it most likely will, but you’re also not here for rushing it with him. Why? You’re not sure…

“Uber will be here in ten,” Danny announces as he comes up behind you, his hand resting on your lower back as he takes another bite of the melted ice still floating in the tequila in his glass. He leans down, his voice icy and heavy in your ear. “Let’s go to the bathroom,” he slurs. “Just for a minute. Wanna see what you’ve got on under your shirt…”

You smile and bring your tongue to your top lip, knowing that sexually, things have been brewing between the two of you for some time now. Though he’s never outwardly asked you if you wanted to hook up for real, you know that given the way things are going, it’s bound to happen at some point.

“The bathroom?” you reiterate, turning your attention to him and wrapping your arms around his neck. God, he smells good. You crane up to whisper in his ear. “Why don’t you just get out of the Uber at my place?”

Danny hisses through his teeth at your proposition, rolling his head back on his neck. Finally he looks back down at you, biting his lip. “You really want me to?”

You consider it for a second, knowing that he is pretty damn intoxicated, and if anything, you might get a shower and some other extracurriculars out of him before he inevitably passes out long-ways on your bed. “Yeah, why not? Or your place, whatever.” You figured you’d give him options.

His hands are traveling covertly across your ass as he tries not to make a big scene of the PDA, and for a split second, you hope that Jake can see it. “We can go to my place, my roommate is out of town…?” he perks his eyebrows.

“Even better,” you reply with a cheeky grin.

“Perfect…” he growls, looking over you more intensely than he ever really has.

“Hey, come with me, I gotta pee,” Jasmine says, pulling on your arm.

“Hurry up, the Uber is almost here,” Danny says as the two of you walk toward the bathrooms, Danny’s hand holding onto yours until the very last second.

The bathroom is packed and loud with people touching up their makeup and waiting in line for a free stall. “I’ll hurry,” Jasmine says, hopping into an open one.

You don’t have to go, so you sulk away in a corner, deciding to check your phone for the first time in an hour or so. Your eyes adjust to the bright screen and you flip through a few instagram notifications and emails, not really seeing anything too important. Until– a text.

A text from… Jake?

Your thumb hovers over the notification for a few seconds before you slide it open, expecting to see a funny meme or dumb article he’s shared, like always. But instead what you see sends a rush of nerves through your body strong enough to steal the breath from your lungs.

Jake

1:12am: Stay with me tonight.

You nearly drop your phone as you look away from it, your eyes suddenly fixated on the floor. You can hear your heart beating in your ears, and a cold sweat breaks out across your palms. What? This is a joke, he’s joking.

That’s why he was watching you so intently, he wanted you to look at your phone…

“Hey, you okay? You gonna throw up?” you hear and feel Jasmine enter your bubble, all the sound suddenly returning to your ears. “Your face is turning green… come on… let’s get to the toilet–”

“No, no I’m fine, I…” You’re speechless as you turn your phone screen around to her, showing her the text. Her eyes read the words, and then grow so big that you think they might pop right from her skull.

“JAKE? Jake, our Jake? Texted you this??” she yells, grabbing the phone from your hand as she does a quick few paces.

“Yeah.. what…?” You don’t even know what to say, or how to react. “He has to be joking, right?”

“Text him back! Answer him! Oh my god,” she rambles, handing you your phone back.

“What do I say?!”

“I dunno, just– anything!” she squeals, quickly rinsing her hands off in the sink.

You type up a few different responses before landing on one, nice and simple.

You

1:14am: Did you mean to text me? Lol

A bubble pops up almost immediately, and you feel like you could quite literally explode.

Jake

1:14am: I most definitely did. Stay with me.

“Fuck, Jasmine, oh my god, I am not cut out for this…” you start to panic, shaking your hands.

“Yes you are, bitch! Get your shit together, ok? He saw you looking at him, he knows you want him, jump. On. That. Shit,” she grabs your shoulders and shakes them.

“Hello, Danny? You expect me to just forget about him?!” you argue.

She clicks her tongue. “Is it really going anywhere with him, though? Jake just asked you to come home with him, he couldn’t be more forward than that. And you said you and Danny are just having fun, right? Messing around?”

“He just asked me to come stay with him, too. Tonight,” you admit, leaning your back against the wall in defeat. “There is no way this is happening, I need another drink.”

“No, you need to figure out who the fuck you want,” she says, pulling you from the bathroom into the sitting area outside of it. “Danny is fine as fuck, you guys have been having fun together, right? Yeah yeah whatever… and Jake. Our goofball friend suddenly turned… Christian Grey level sexy? And he wants you?! You need to decide, and quick,” she says, turning to look toward the exit again.

“You’re just saying that because you want Daniel all to yourself,” you joke, trying to take the heat off the situation.

“No no no no, that’s not… ok well that’s not untrue,” Jasmine says, crossing her arms. “If the opportunity presented itself, I would not turn him down,” she laughs, sticking her tongue out.

“Hey, Uber is here!” you hear Danny yell from across the bar, motioning with his arm to come on.

You feel a nervousness you’ve never felt creeping into your bones. “Maybe I should just get another ride and forget the whole thing, say I’m not feeling well and go home,” you suggest.

“That’s up to you, babe. You’re your own woman. I’ll go with you, if you want…” Jasmine says, laying her hand on your shoulder.

You glance back over to the group and see Danny standing holding the door open, and Jake a few feet behind him, watching you all the same. What in the actual midday soap opera is happening right now…

Your feet carry you toward the door on their own when you see Danny’s rushing expression and Jake’s intense one… both of these men want the exact same thing tonight. Great.

You’re on autopilot as you watch everyone begin drunkenly piling into the backseat, stumbling and laughing. First Danny’s two friends, then Jasmine, then Danny, then Jake. You’re left standing outside when you realize there isn’t enough room. Yes…

“Oh, shit. I’ll just call another ride, it’s no big deal–”

“No come on, we’ll make room,” Jake mutters as he looks at you with a smirk.

“No, seriously, it’s fine. I’ll grab the next one,” you say, but you’re stopped short when you see Jake’s hand being held out for you. He wiggles his fingers to tell you to come on, and his slow-blink tells you he means it.

“Babe, c’mon,” Danny says, leaning over Jake.

You swallow hard, taking a quick breath before grabbing onto Jake’s hand, and stepping up into the packed vehicle. As soon as you close the door behind you, the car takes off, making you lose your balance and fall straight into Jake’s lap.

Oh shit fuck.

“Oh god, I’m sorry,” you panic, trying to stand back up and adjust into another seat. Jake’s hands are on your waist as you stumble around the extremely crowded car, and you hear him mumble a soft and sweet “s’okay”.

Even in the dark, you can see that there is most definitely not enough room to take a seat of your own. The driver is driving erratically, taking fast and sharp turns and having absolutely no regard for his passengers, and it’s taking everything in you to hold on to the back of his headrest and the handle above you to keep from falling into the floor.

You start to panic as the man speeds down the streets and takes a particularly sharp turn, forcing you against your will right into Jake’s lap again. Fuuuuuuck. There’s nothing you can do about it.

You finally give up and let your body weight fall onto him, his hands instinctively holding you steady so you don’t slide sideways again. Everyone is loud and laughing drunkenly, in their own worlds and conversations as the car travels down the road.

“You’re alright, you can sit all the way down,” Jake laughs, patting his knee. For some reason, Jake suddenly feels like a stranger. A person you have never met before, not one of your very good friends. You feel anxious in his presence, and your mouth goes dry when you hear him mutter again, “It’s just me…”

Danny is caught up in his own thing, hardly paying either of you any mind at all as he’s belting the words to whatever old Nelly song is blasting through the car speakers. You take a deep breath, and relax all the way down onto Jake’s waiting lap.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize to him, rolling your eyes.

“It’s not your fault,” he says lowly, still smiling. You feel yourself go straight as a board, nervous to make a move at all as you realize the position you’re in. His hands are still respectfully balanced on your waist, and your hands are still gripping hard on the handles.

The drive is nearly ten minutes, and even with the way the man is navigating, the traffic still holds up progress, making the drive even longer. You begin to sweat thinking about how you’re going to survive this, what you’re going to do when the time comes to get out. You glance back over at Jasmine who is making the most outrageous face at you, clenching her teeth and smiling from ear to ear.

“You alright? You seem tense,” Jake brings his mouth close to your ear so that you can hear him over the blasting music.

Tense. Tense? Is he joking?! You’re worse than tense, you’re about to jump out of your fucking skin, actually!

“Yeah, I’m–” Another quick whip of the vehicle and a harsh stop makes you lurch forward and fly back again, your shoulder pressing into Jake’s chest. The smell of his cologne takes your breath even more intensely than the whiplash does, and his hand reaches up quickly to catch you from moving any further. “Fuck, dude! Drive often?!” you say, making everyone in the car laugh, but the driver pays you no mind.

“He’s not getting a tip, is he?” Jake laughs sarcastically. You feel the tips of his fingers tap your thigh, signalling you to sit up a little.

“Stand up a sec,” he orders and you do, and he lurches his groin forward, pressing himself into you. You have no idea what he’s doing as you feel his upper thighs press into your ass, and you know that your eyes have grown ten times their size. His left hand is still gripping your waist, almost holding onto you for leverage. Fuck, what is this… What is he doing? And why is it so hot?

Just as quickly as it happened it ended, and you catch sight of his right hand exiting his side. “Sorry, had to get in my pocket,” he says. “Here, one for you, one for me.” He plops back down into his seat, and you have to admit, the loss of the feeling of him damn near pressing his dick into you makes you shudder a bit. It felt…

He holds his hand out and presents you with two airplane bottles of some type of clear liquor. Once you see what he needed to get in his pocket for, you look back at him, his facial expression painted a mix of red and green as you pass underneath the crowded streets and stop lights. He raises his eyebrows, and urges you to take one.

“Here,” he says, “thought it could help with your tenseness.”

You swallow as your eyes fall to his hand, and you realize that he isn’t wrong. Yeah, you definitely need another drink for what has turned into a shitshow of a night. “Thanks,” you offer, taking one of the bottles from his hand.

You quickly open the lid and smell the contents, recognizing it right off the bat as tequila. Perfect. Jake does the same, but before he presses it to his lips, he presses the edge of his bottle to yours.

“Cheers, Y/N. To a night of revelry.” His eyes are boring into yours as his tongue licks across his lips, and a tiny smirk comes across his face.

“To revelry…” you repeat, and Jake is wrapping his arm with yours, tilting his bottle back to drain its contents. You prepare yourself for the sting of the liquor and take the shot, needing it now more than ever to numb your racing and confused thoughts.

Your arms uncross and you replace the lids on the bottles after you’ve both swallowed it all down, and you’re thankful that Jake had paid special attention to what you needed in the moment, while Danny still sits completely unknowing directly beside you.

Jake rips the empty bottle from your hand and sticks the two of them in the front pocket of his jacket, his hands going right back to supporting you still in your awkward position on his lap. You hate to admit it, but the alcohol has almost instantly calmed you a little, while it simultaneously is making you feel just a touch more daring. Jake looks like a fucking model tonight, and you’re relaxing comfortably on his lap. After he asked you to come home with him. What more could you even ask for?

In an act of courage, you decide to wrap your arm around his neck, balancing your elbow on the back of his seat. It brings you significantly closer into his realm, and you hear him take in a sharp breath at your new proximity. “Sorry, couldn’t sit like that any longer,” you say, your chin nearly resting on his shoulder.

“No worries, love,” he replies, readjusting his hand on your waist to fall a little lower than it was. Your heart is beating from your chest, and you swear you can feel the blood pumping through your veins. Why? It’s just Jake… just your friend. You’ve hugged him a million times before. Why does it suddenly feel so… different?

And all of a sudden, the car jerks you sideways again, redirecting your ass to sit directly on top of… him. Perfectly. Fuck. If there weren’t clothes to block the connection, the two of you would find yourselves in the most perfect position for some insane obscenity, right now. And you feel a surge of desire flood you, while simultaneously feeling Jake jerk in his pants below you. God damn, he feels fucking…

He takes a deep breath and exhales it through his mouth, his air blowing across your hair and lips a little bit as he reacts to the new position. He’s just as flustered as you are. For a split second, his hand wrapped around your waist tightens, squeezing at your side before he lets it drift down just a little to your thigh. Fuckkkkk. Your eyes nearly roll back as you feel his dick jerk between your legs again, in the most perfect position. You’re thankful for the darkness of the lower half of the car, concealing everything that has happened in the past few seconds in shrouded shadow.

Danny still sits oblivious, deep in pointless conversation with his friend beside him. He could give a damn less, and you’re almost positive he doesn’t even remember that the two of you have made plans, tonight.

Meanwhile, Jake’s breath is picking up as you see the slight rise and fall of his chest behind his partially unbuttoned shirt, also a new staple in his changing wardrobe that had you going fucking nuts the first time you saw him in it. Your face is still close to him as you continue leaning sideways on his seat, and you realize just how close your lips are to his ear. He’s trying his best to seem nonchalant, but still is being very intentional with the movements of his hand, still concealed in the darkness.

It slowly travels up your leg to your upper thigh, gentle but forceful all at the same time. Your head starts to spin, he’s touching you. He’s touching you like that. You blow out a huff of air into his ear, making his jaw clench. His hand squeezes at your muscle, his fingers dangerously close to being up underneath the hem of your tight dress.

He turns his head to face you, almost within inches. “That dress looks really good on you tonight,” he mutters, his eyes flicking from the windshield back to you. You can feel the heat from his breath on your lips, complimenting you in the sweetest most flirtatious tone.

“You think so?” you ask, your breath hitching as you feel him hardening below you.

“Mmmhm,” he growls, your faces within centimeters, now. “It really accentuates your body. Shows you off…” His eyes drift to your tits for just a second too long, as his tongue juts out and licks his lips. “But I think my favorite part is this… right here…” His hand that is squeezing between your legs moves to curl a finger up underneath the tight hem that is stretched across your thighs, way too high now that you haven’t yet been in a position to pull it back down. His finger runs along the seam around the side of your leg to the back, and his hand wastes no time in completely gripping your ass.

…You might fall the fuck apart.

You squeak out a sound that you can’t control as his hand squeezes and kneads at your partially-covered ass cheek, and his motions make your body react completely on its own. You sit down harder on his dick, grinding your hips onto him for just enough time to get a little friction where you need it. You should be embarrassed, but you’re not. Thanks, tequila.

“Your– your favorite part, huh?” you manage, your lips drifting across the baby hairs sticking free from his ponytail. He still stares directly out the windshield, like nothing is happening at all.

“That’s right,” he says, his fingers beginning to get a little more adventurous as you feel them nearing your heat, from behind. He’s squeezing the muscle even more tightly now that you haven’t stopped him. You’re completely flushed… dizzy and wanting as he’s sitting cool as ever below you. It sort of pisses you off, how you know for a fact that your body language is anything but relaxed, while his hand is buried between your legs. He displays hardly any outward look, at all. The perfect facade.

Just to get a rise out of him, you sit down on him with a little more force, swirling your hips as you grind in your search for friction. The action takes him by surprise as he grunts out a breath that sounds a bit desperate, exactly what you wanted from him.

He tries to cover it up with a cough.

“Jake man, you alright?” Danny turns from his other conversation to ask. Danny’s eyes flick to the two of you in this position and you quickly clean it up, leaning up a little and acting as though Jake’s fingers aren’t dancing around your opening.

“Yeah man, all good,” Jake replies through a strained breath.

"Take a breath, dude," Danny says as he smacks Jake's knee.

The way everyone is crammed in the seats has Danny’s back to you, anyway, so he has to strain to turn around backward and look for you. You’re not sure if it’s a gift from the heavens that he can’t see you very well, or an opportunity for the ages that Jake saw, and took full advantage of. Just then, Danny’s hand reaches back behind him, gripping onto your knee that’s closest to him. His hand starts to travel a little, all the while Jake’s fingers still exactly where he left them.

Oh fucking hell… no.

Danny’s hand moves again, down the length of your shin and back up again, rough and hot as he feels you up in the darkness. He never turns his head around, but his hand continues to sneak higher and higher, so much to the point that his fingers are dusting the inside of your opposite thigh. It’s then that you’re positive he’s completely unaware of what you and Jake are doing just inches away from his hand.

Danny firmly grips the muscle of your leg, switching between squeezing onto it and lightly trailing his fingertips over your already goosebump-covered skin. You wish you could see Jasmine, you wish you could telepathically tell her what is happening, that both of their hands are secretly on you, fighting for all of your attention. And neither of them have any idea the other is there, and neither have any intention of stopping.

You try to breathe and calm yourself, trying to ignore the fact that both men have their hands on you in their own stealthy and secret ways. It's jarring, but it also mind-fucks you a little, your thoughts streaming with filthy and unadulterated thoughts of... No. Don't even go there, Y/N. Absolutely not...

“I meant what I said tonight, in the text,” Jake’s graveled voice is suddenly brushing against your ear. His fingers are still slowly working you into an oblivion, down a long road you’re not sure you’ll ever return from. You feel him press a little harder, inching closer and closer to your thong- the only barrier between his hands and you. You sit down on him even harder, the mixture of his fingers teasing you so deliciously and Danny’s hand massaging you… it’s a cocktail that you can’t deny, a mixture of deathly decisions and filthy visuals that you can’t help but become victim to. And you’re fucking loving it.

“Did you?” you manage, your mouth still close to his ear. You're nearly intoxicated by the smell of his cologne.

“I did… and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that the way your body is reacting right now, you just might tell me you will,” he goes on, making your head spin again. “Am I right?”

Your eyes flutter closed as you swallow again, arguing with what’s right and wrong as Danny’s hand reminds you that technically, he had you first. You told him you’d stay with him, tonight is supposed to be the night…

Jake’s fingers move a little closer, pulling your thong to the side as he slowly creeps even deeper, his movements so calculated and drawn out that you have to bite down on your own tongue to keep from crying out. Both of their hands are driving you to insanity, and you can’t even say a damned word without revealing what the other one is doing.

You’re in a delicious purgatory, and you’d sit in this car for all of eternity if it meant you could keep feeling like this.

The way that you're currently the keeper of both of their secrets, letting them do what they want to you, in complete confidence. Every few seconds you're reminded that the other one is there, when one of their hands would steal all of your attention away from the other. Your mind is being pulled in two directions, your consciousness traveling from left to right as they both unknowingly battle for your attention.

Just then Jake’s fingers find your clit, pressing harshly into it with tiny circles as you realize now that you’re fighting for your life. Your forehead leans onto his temple, all the breath escaping your lungs as he starts to build you up. “Oh my god,” you whisper in his ear through grit teeth. Your voice is desperate and pitiful as you fight swirling your hips on his hand, pleading with yourself to ignore the way he feels, and the way Danny’s hand is relentlessly kneading into your other leg.

“That feel good, baby?” Jake whispers below the roar of the music still filling the car. “That what you wanted me to do?”

You nod quickly, knowing that your decisions tonight will be ones that you try and forget about tomorrow, but the situation is too damn delicious to ignore, right now. “Yeah,” you whisper, nipping your teeth onto his ear. You feel his hips buck up, his dick hard as a rock beneath you.

“Tell me about it, tell me how it feels…” he whispers to you again, his fingers still working you to a point of no return.

Danny’s hand is still stretched as far as it can in the position he’s in, and you can tell that the way he is moving, his mind is coming back to him, and he’s preparing you for what is going to happen when the two of you get out of the car.

“Feels so fucking good…” you murmur, little whines falling from your lips as he lets his thumb tease at your entrance. “Don’t want you to stop, but…”

“But what, baby?”

You swallow, opening your eyes a bit as his thumb still teases. “I–You know I’m… going home with Danny…” The words feel like poison in your mouth, and you hate to admit it, even though it’s the complete truth.

But Jake knows your situation with Danny. He’s not unaware of any of it, at all.

“Hm,” Jake grumbles. “Is that still a thing?”

“Kind of, yeah… I mean…” you breathe, and Jake hasn’t slowed down his movements, at all. Each pointed touch of his finger on your clit is driving you to madness, and you’re surprised at your ability to even keep a little bit of a level head in your conversation.

“Interesting. Every time I looked at you tonight, your eyes were already on me, watching me like a hawk. I could have sworn those were fuck-me eyes, Y/N…”

He presses his thumb inside you a little, making you gasp a loud breath. The way your name sounded coming from his perfectly pouted lips… It sounds so different than it normally does. So much more strained, so desperate. He pulls his thumb back out, concentrating again on your clit.

“Who even are you, Jake? You’re like an entirely different person, all the sudden,” you admit through quiet choked breaths. You don’t know where that question came from, though you’ve been so curious about it for the past few weeks.

You catch his eyes darting around as he searches for an answer. He shrugs his shoulders. “Just have come into my own lately, grew up a bit. I dunno… why, is it a bad thing?”

“No! No, it’s… you’re the same you, just…”

“Now I have the confidence to do what I’ve always wanted to do to you, in the back of a car, secretly…” he mutters, clicking his tongue a little as he adds a little pressure to your clit. You can tell you’re absolutely soaking his hand, but you feel no shame in it. You hope to god Danny can’t feel your legs shaking and vibrating with pleasure… either that, or you hope that he thinks he’s the one causing it.

“You have? Why didn’t you ever…” you ask him, wondering why he’d never made an advance before. Or, had you been just too blind to see it?

Jake takes a breath. “I dunno, just never thought you’d be into me like that.”

“First stop!” the driver calls out, putting the car in a harsh park. You lurch forward and back again, your mind coming back to you a little bit.

Jake and Danny both quickly remove their hands from you as the cab lights in the car come on, and Danny’s two friends jump out. The loss of their touch is devastating, and you wonder what in the actual fuck you’re going to do when you eventually make it to Danny’s place. You take a second to glance back at Jasmine in the backseat, and immediately she can tell that something is going on.

You have only a second to communicate wordlessly to her before the doors are closing, and the car is taking off again. Now, the freed up space allows for you to have your own seat.

“Here babe, you can scoot over here, now,” Danny says, patting the seat between him and Jake. “Your legs fall asleep, Jake? Damn, we were really smashed in here.”

“You could say that…” Jake grumbles, taking one last opportunity to squeeze your ass as you climb off of him, the disconnect instantly making you fill with a frustrated rage.

You cross your arms as you find yourself sat between them now, pissed off and left feeling more edged than anything. Danny’s arm wraps around your shoulders and pulls you toward him. “Can’t wait to get that dress off you… I’m over here going fucking crazy…” he says into your ear.

You can’t help the expression that falls across your face. Fuck… if he only knew the situation you’re currently in… he’s going crazy?! He hardly paid you any mind at all for the past ten minutes you’ve been in here… his hand was the only contact he made, and you know his touching you was solely out of drunken opportunity.

Jake, on the other hand… quite literally…

You don’t give him a straight answer as the car pulls down Danny’s street, and your mind begins to race with crazed thoughts. Your stomach churns with nerves, and you almost wish you hadn’t taken that last shot of tequila. You feel like you’re being pulled two ways- wanting to go home with Danny after dancing around the act for weeks now, and leaving yourself to stay with Jake to finish what the two of you have started.

You know it’s wrong to even consider Jake, but something about him lately, and tonight, has made him like a forbidden fruit that you can’t help but crave. And after learning that apparently he’s wanted you all along…

The car begins to slow down in front of Danny’s building, and the nerves are so bad you feel like you could throw up. Danny slings the door open and steps out, turning to take your hand.

The invisible string… one end of you tied to Danny and the agreement you’d already made, and one end tied to the man beside you, his aura magnetizing you to stay with him… don’t get out of the car…

Your hand moves on its own, clasping itself around Danny’s as your body pulls itself from the vehicle, slow and blurry as your foot hits the concrete. Danny offers you a sweet, buzzed smile as he helps you to get your footing on the sidewalk. “You ready, gorgeous?” he asks, and your head nods, really unknowing if you are ready, or not.

Danny closes the door behind you and you turn to look at Jake, his jaw clenched tightly with his hand in front of it, his eyes glaring and low as the car pulls off to the next stop.

Well, fuck.

Danny pulls you through the front doors of his building and up the stairs to his apartment door. Your mind is still racing and your legs are still like jello from the performance that Jake had given you just minutes ago. You can tell that Danny is still feeling his liquor, stumbling just a little as he meanders through his dark apartment with you in tow. You had only been here once before, so you know your way around just a little bit. It’s a studio apartment, so you plop down on his bed, pulling your arms into yourself as he turns the kitchen light on.

“Gonna grab a water, you wann’one?” he stammers, his eyes hardly focused.

“Yeah, please,” you say, pulling your phone from your purse to see a string of notifications from Jasmine.

Jas

1:31am: BITCH WHAT THE FCUK WERE YOU TWO DOOIGN UP THERE

1:31am: i saw you whispering to him

1:31am: what did he say what did you say

1:34am: ANSER MEEEE

1:34am: he was so sad looking when u went with danny i cant believe uuuu. Anyway have fun i guess

“Here ya go,” Danny says as he hands you a cold water bottle. He’s already chugged half of his, and he lies down beside you, pressing the cold bottle to his forehead.

“Thanks,” you say, taking a few sips off the top. “You have too much?”

He sits up, tossing the bottle to the side before wrapping his arm around you and pressing you down into the bed. “No no, I’m good. Just kinda… well, maybe a lil’. But I still want to uphold our plans, yeah?” His face is buried in your hair, and you can feel his mouth starting to lay wet kisses up and down your neck.

“Yeah,” you breathe, the feeling of his mouth on you overtaking your mind already. Danny has always felt exceptionally good, able to turn you on within seconds. His hand is traveling over your body, over your stomach and legs and thighs as he delves into the sensitive skin of your neck, on the verge of leaving marks, if he wasn’t careful. Your eyes roll back as he moans in your ear, pressing himself up against you.

“Now, about this dress..” he says, pulling your straps down. You help him free your arms as your tits pop free, your nipples already perking up just from the contact he’d made. “Fuckin’ beautiful…” he says, leaning up on his elbow to reach down and hitch your leg over his waist. He takes your nipple into his mouth and begins swirling his tongue around it while his hand massages and kneads the other.

Your body begins shuddering from the feeling of it all, and the presence of his hardening dick pressing between your legs doesn’t help matters. Finally he connects his lips to yours, hot and messy as the kiss is deepened second by second. His hands are cupping your tits, and you can’t help but grind into him. Fuck… yeah, he feels good, but, is this going to go as planned? No matter how hard you tried, you can’t get the visual of Jake’s face as the car door shut from hanging in the back of your mind.

You switch gears to try and flush the thought of Jake from your mind, pulling Danny to his back and straddling his waist. You immediately lean down and pull at the hem of his shirt, ripping it over his head. God, his physique is un-fucking-real… You can’t help but to want to kiss it, to lick every inch of him. Your mind is completely reeling with a wild hormonal draw to him, while thinking about Jake’s hand between your legs, while you’re undoing Danny’s belt, thinking about how Jake’s breath felt on your lips.

For the love of god, get it together, Y/N.

“So sexy, baby…” Danny stutters as you begin making your way down his body, nipping at his pecs and sides as you descend down him, your body pulling you there on its own. His hand is tangled up in your hair as you begin teasing at his dick through his boxers, breathing hot air and humming your lips against him. You can feel your mouth starting to water just thinking about how he is going to taste on your tongue. This wasn’t the first time you’d done this for Danny, of course, but the foreplay has to start somewhere, right?

Danny bucks his hips into your mouth as your tongue glides over the tip, the indirect touch driving him absolutely wild. “Need your mouth, baby.. Need it– ahhh… so bad…”

His words urge you on to get your head on straight, pulling down at his boxers to expose him. His dick springs free and you immediately connect your lips to it, flicking the tip of your tongue. You feel the saliva begin to pool in your mouth as his stomach tightens in. “Fuck, yes, baby…” he says, his hand tightening in your hair again. You open your throat as best you can, taking him all the way down in one go. The sounds that leave him make you feel a fierce desire for him again as you begin bobbing up and down, using your hand for help.

Your tongue swirls and flattens as you watch his free hand grip onto the sheets. You sit up and pull his boxers and jeans all the way off, giving yourself a little more space to work. You dig your nails into the skin between his thighs, making him hiss an inhale. “Too much?” you ask.

“No, perfect… Keep going…” he breathes, sitting up for just a second to watch you. You work at him for what feels like ten minutes or so, just watching him get to the edge before he falls right back off again. You try different techniques and tricks, but you realize fairly quickly that your jaw is beginning to tighten and feel sore. You bring your hand to the base of his dick again, pumping it along with your mouth. “Fuck, fuck… baby…” he grunts again, and you can taste the precum finally dripping into your mouth.

“Taste so good, Danny…” you breathe when you find a free second. You’re trying to get him there, pulling out all the shots you can think of to get him to tip over the edge. His hand tightens in your hair again, and you feel yourself feeling touch-starved, especially since you were so worked up earlier. You slip your hand between your legs and move your thong to the side, quickly finding the place that Jake’s fingers had just inhabited not long ago.

Jake…

His fingers… they were just… there.

Maybe if you picture it’s him touching you again instead of yourself…

You close your eyes and envision it, letting yourself moan a little hum onto the tip of Danny’s cock.

“Oh fuck, do that again,” he cries, his head falling back onto the headboard. You do as he asks, all the while still picturing the feeling of Jake’s hand bringing you right back to the brink. Fuck, this feels so wrong. And so, so fucking right.

Suddenly Danny’s hand leaves your hair and grips onto the sheets again, the veins in his hands popping out as you watch him claw his way to the peak, his stomach caving in over and over as you work him harder.

“Mhmm…” you hum onto him again, realizing that is what he needed to get over his awful case of whiskey dick. You finally manage to get him there, watching as his face falls into a clenched expression as he fills up your mouth completely. You swallow it down and do your best to clean him up while he catches his breath on the come-down.

“Jesus you are so fucking hot,” he says once you’re all done. He hooks his arm up underneath your arm pit, pulling you to lay beside him. “That was… excellent.”

“Thank you,” you giggle, your clit still pouding with stimulation. The two of you lay there for a few minutes as he enjoys his euphoria.

“Gimmie just a minute, I’ll pay you back, baby,” he says softly as his eyes begin to close.

You nod as you glance up to him, your body on fire with want and need for reciprocation so intense that you can hardly stand it. His eyes are all the way closed and he’s completely relaxed back, and it’s then that you realize exactly what you had suspected would happen- he’s going to fully pass out on you.

‘Fucking kidding me,’ you think to yourself. ‘Is he serious?’

You should have known better, given how hard it was to get him to cum from a fifteen-minute long blowjob. A good one, at that.

Two minutes later, he’s snoring. Goddamnit.

And suddenly, you’re pissed. Pissed at it all. You know its just the rage from not getting anything out of this fucking deal tonight, and feeling rejected and forgotten after Danny got his. You have half a mind to sneak into his bathroom and finish things off yourself, but just as you’re about to grind your knuckles into Danny’s chest to wake him up, he rolls over, tucking his hands up underneath his pillow as his breathing completely evens out. Yeah, he’s out for good. Your heartbeat is flying off the handle from the bitterness you feel mixed in with how fucking turned on you are.

Fuck this night.

You gently lean down and pick up your phone that is still sitting on the bottom of the bed, the bright light hurting your eyes as the screen comes to life. You decide to answer Jasmine’s texts, even though you know she is probably already asleep.

You

2:13am: 🍆❌🥃👎😴

Your finger flips back over to the text from Jake, and you shudder at how harshly you left him on read… through text and in the car. You feel absolutely terrible. In all honesty, you should have stayed back with him tonight. Things could have ended up so differently. You halfway curse yourself for being such a brat about it all, because really, Danny didn’t do anything wrong at all. Upsetting, but not wrong. He did have a bit too much to drink.

In an act of pure courage (and horrific lingering arousal), you text Jake back.

You

2:14am: If I would have stayed with you, would you have fallen asleep on me?

You set your phone on your chest, halfway regretting sending the text, at all. You cover your eyes with your hand, fiercely tapping your other hand on your stomach as regret fills your mind.

Then suddenly, it buzzes.

You peek one eye open, expecting to see a reply from Jasmine. But– of course…

Jake

2:16am: He didn’t…

You

2:16am: 🙂

Jake

2:17am: Fuckin idiot.

2:17am: No, I wouldn’t have fallen asleep on you. I think we both know that.

You

2:18am: Why are you still awake?

Jake sends back a photo of his feet propped up on his ottoman in front of a fireplace, holding a glass up in front of it.

You

2:19am: Nightcap?

Jake

2:19am: No, it’s carbonated water. Couldn’t force down another drink if I wanted to

Danny startles you with a loud snore as he adjusts himself, getting comfortable again in his bed. And for some reason, it pisses you off all over again.

You

2:20am: What if I was there, would you have a drink with me?

Jake

2:20am: I would do anything you want, if you were here

2:21am: I got you all worked up for nothing, huh

You

2:21am: Understatement of the year.

Ya know what? Fuck it.

2:21am: But, not for nothing…

You slowly stand from the bed, rushing across Danny’s living area to slip quietly into his bathroom. Before you close the door behind you, you check to make sure he’s still asleep. When you’ve made sure the coast is clear, you lock the door behind you.

Alone and still frustrated with sexual tension, you turn on the dimmer switch on the wall, pulling it all the way down to as dark as it will go. You stand in front of his full-length mirror and pull one of your straps down to expose one of your tits. You fluff your hair and find the perfect position to stand, covertly covering up your nipple as you hike the tight bottom of your dress up a little higher.

You open your camera and adjust the lighting and snap a few photos, finding them all to be unreasonably sexy, if you do say so yourself. You finally choose the best one and attach it in a text to Jake, holding your breath as you hit send.

You

2:23am: Still very much worked up

You watch as the messages deliver, and Jake’s text bubble pop up and disappear four or five times as he is likely trying to decide what to respond with. You’re feeling a little more confident now, knowing that you’ve most likely left him a little speechless. It's an entire minute before he finally responds.

Jake

2:24am: Fuck

You snicker at his response before going ahead and typing up another.

You

2:24am: Think I made the wrong decision tonight

Jake

2:25am: Was waiting for you to admit that to yourself 😏

You sit down on Danny’s toilet, suddenly feeling very cold in the skimpy dress. You take a deep breath and rest your chin in your hand as you try and decide what to do next. You can steal one of Danny’s t-shirts, climb under the covers next to him and call it a night, or you could convince Jake that you’d rather be with him, and see what happens.

You feel your phone buzz in your lap.

Jake

2:27am: What if I promised to finish what I started

You

2:27am: If that entails anything like what you did to me in the car, I’ll take you up on that promise

Jake

2:28am: It has everything to do with what I did to you in the car

2:28am: And don’t act so innocent, I felt you trying to tease me, too

You

2:29am: Jake, it was obvious I wasn’t the only one worked up

2:29am: I never claimed to be innocent… 😇

Jake:

2:30am: God you’re a piece of work

You

2:30am: Come get me.

Jake

2:31am: Be there in 5.

Fuck fuck… this is really happening. Shit, you have made some horrible decisions tonight. But there is time for repentance later. Tonight, you’re going to pretend like nothing in the world matters.

You take a quick second to freshen up and dab some of Danny’s toothpaste on your finger, at least making yourself seem like you’ve not taken part in too many bad decisions, tonight. When you’re done, you creak the bathroom door open again and find Danny still snuggled up and passed all the way out. You quickly send him a text that you found a ride home, not wanting him to wake up and freak out too badly. You’re pissed at him, but honestly, not too mad. It ended up in your favor, to be honest. You place your bottle of water on the table beside him and plug his phone in before making your way to sit on his couch, waiting for your incoming text from Jake.

+++

“Here, brought you these,” Jake says as he hands you a pile of clothing after you’ve placed your seatbelt across your chest. “Thought you’d probably be cold.”

You unfold it all to find a pair of his sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt, and a pair of old socks. “Jake, this is so sweet, you didn’t have to.” You feel your chest warm at his gesture.

“You look fine as fuck in that dress, but I know you’ve gotta be uncomfortable,” he laughs, one hand balancing on the steering wheel as he backs out of Danny’s lot.

You place the clothes on your lap, biting your lip in. “How about I leave the dress on for just a little while longer?”

You hear him exhale a laugh through his nose. “You really are trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

“No,” you reply shortly. “You can’t finish what you started if you aren’t alive.”

His eyes drift over to you in the passenger seat as his fingers rub over his mustache. Still so horrifically sexy. Good god.

“You really wanna do this, Y/N? I really just wanted to save you from staying somewhere you didn’t want to be tonight… we don’t have–”

“I want to Jake, I do,” you reply strictly. Your hand shoots over and lands on his leg, and you feel no shame in teasing him in the exact same ways that he was teasing you, earlier. Your hand moves up and cups right overtop of his bulge, and you hear him hiss as his hips jut forward in the seat. You begin lightly massaging it. “Unless you don’t want to…”

“Nonono I do, I do,” he says, shaking his head through a laugh at you as he continues down the street. “Can’t believe Danny did that to you tonight. Fucking figures.”

Your hand stops its motion. “What do you mean, figures?”

Jake inhales a sharp breath. “I told him he had to make a decision, you or that other girl. It wasn’t fair him leading you on like he was… guess he proved that to you all by himself.”

Your blood rushes to your head. What?

“Wait, what?! What other girl?” you sit up in your seat and face Jake, now entirely interested in something else.

He stumbles over his words, focusing on the road in front of him. “You didn’t– I thought you guys were kind of, open… right?”

You’re suddenly exasperated. “I mean, yeah I guess… we didn’t have a title or anything but like… we… I thought we were something… I thought he’d at least stay awake long enough to–”

Jake is silent for a second as he lets you process your thoughts.

“He was texting her all night, Y/N.”

Your jaw falls slack. “What? He was?”

Jake nods, flicking his turn signal. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, it’s not my business.”

“No, it most definitely is your business. You’re my friend, right? Longer than Danny has been my friend. It’s your business, I’m your business…��

His eyes dart to you again and give you a look that makes your heart skip a beat. He’s being protective over you.

“He’s been texting her a while, hooking up and whatnot. I don’t know anything further than that, or even who she is. But it pissed me off to see him hiding his phone so much, tonight. He was supposed to be there with you. I knew that he was trying to not let anyone see, but I saw it. A couple of times. I–I honestly thought that was why you were eyeing me so hard from the dance floor, I thought you might uh, have noticed him being weird and might be wanting to make him jealous or something. I dunno.”

You shake your head and laugh disbelievingly. “Wow…” you mutter, suddenly not regretting your decision to come here with Jake, at all. Fuck Danny for that. He should have at least told you. You weren’t exclusive, but you also didn’t have anyone else on your radar.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you that… I probably ruined your night,” Jake says as he pulls into a parking spot in front of his house.

“No. Actually, no, I’m glad you did. Something had felt kind of… off with him lately. I’m glad to know my gut wasn’t wrong,” you reply.

Jake turns the car off and you just stare at one another, waiting for the other one to talk. “I can take you home instead, if you’d like,” he offers, his true colors coming through even through his brand new facade. Actually, maybe it isn’t a facade at all. Maybe this is who he has truly always been.

“No. I want to be here, with you,” you reply honestly.

“Not for revenge?”

“No, fuck no. I should have told you I’d come home with you when you sent me that text. I know that now. I wanted to… I just… didn’t want to be rude and bail on him.”

“Maybe you are a sweetheart,” Jake pokes as he opens his car door, signaling for you to follow him. You both make your way out to his walkway and start heading up to his front door.

“I am a sweetheart! What do you mean?!” you laugh, slapping him in the arm.

“Ow, fuck,” Jake says, grabbing his arm as he turns to you in faux pain.

“That didn’t hurt,” you laugh, stepping up onto his doorstep.

“Yeah, you’re right. It didn’t hurt as bad as you leaving me in the dust tonight. Broke my fuckin’ heart,” Jake pouts. And for some reason, his words shoot right through your heart.

“Jake, I am so sorry,” you cry, turning to him. “Really.”

He laughs and turns to you, pulling a few stray hairs from in front of your face. “I’m kidding. I was sad, though.” He steps closer to you, enveloping your senses as he closes the proximity between you. “I’ve watched you walk away from me too many times over the years.”

Another shot through the heart. You’re one step away from feeling like total shit. “I didn’t even know you… cared, Jake. About me, like that.”

He shrugs his shoulder as he continues fixing your hair. “Ah, s’alright. You’re here now…”

You take a step closer to him, feeling a warmth travel over you that you don’t dare force away. Your lips are within inches of his, and your hand slowly comes up to grab behind his neck, playing with his hair that’s still pulled back into a low knot. His breath hitches but he doesn’t pull away, instead he brushes his nose against yours, making you break out in a chill that overtakes your entire being.

“Yeah, I’m here now.” You close the gap and press your lips to his, kissing him gently at first, just to test out his waters. You feel him holding his breath just a little as he pulls away, giving you a smile so genuine you feel as if you could melt into a puddle, right there on his doorstep. He places his hands on your hips, reconnecting the kiss in a more heated way now. His hands are gripping at your sides, and your hands are grabbing onto his jaw, kissing him fiercely as if doing so is the only right thing in the world.

You think you’re floating. No, you’re positive you are. The way he feels with his hands on you, the way your whole body is tingling and rushing with emotions… Kissing your friend never turns out well, but then again, he was fingering you in an Uber only an hour ago…

Just as quickly as things had started, they end, as Jake pulls himself away from you in a rush of excitement and nerves. “Let’s go inside.”

He pushes the door open and you step inside, feeling some strange sense of deja vu as you enter another man’s house this evening. You step out of your half-strapped heels, kicking them to the corner as you toss your purse onto his couch. Instantly, you feel his arms wrapped around your back, holding on to you with a sincerity that you’ve always felt with him, just never physically. His mouth is behind your ear, and his waist is already pressing into your ass.

“I know you want to leave the dress on, but I don’t think you’ll want it getting wet,” he growls into your ear.

“Wet?” you ask, your eyes fluttering closed from his use of the word wet. Why? Guess that’s just where your mind is going to live, tonight.

“Yeah. We’re taking a shower,” he replies, breaking away from holding you. But before he lets go, he grabs your hand and spins you around, making you follow him up the stairs.

A shower… holy shit…?!

Your brain short circuits as you realize that within the next minute, you’re going to completely expose yourself to Jake, your very good… friend. It’s okay. It’s okay!

The top floor of his home is carpeted, and the softness of it feels like heaven on your sore and tired feet. He pulls you behind him still, one of your hands locked with his, the other still lugging the clothes he’s supplied you with. He turns a left corner and introduces you to a large room, much larger than any bathroom you’d seen in the houses in town.

He turns on a light and illuminates a rather clean place for a man, a giant bathtub, and a shower that is bigger than your walk-in closet.

“Wow…” you exclaim, in awe of it all.

“Yeah, I knew you wouldn’t turn this down,” Jake laughs. “Right?”

“Most definitely not.” You feel a cold chill rush over you at just the thought of hot water pouring over your skin, and you have to rub your hands over your arms for friction and warmth.

You look to Jake who is leaning with his back on the counter, eyeing you so sweetly you could almost die. He cocks his head sideways with a tiny smile, and you cursed yourself for never really giving him the time of day in any regard other than just friendly interactions. Why had it never hit you before?

There’s a long pause as the two of you watch each other, and the tension between you is so thick it’s almost palpable. He kicks his shoes off and pulls his shirt over his head, never taking his eyes from you. You haven’t seen him shirtless in a long time, and for some reason the visual of his unclothed body literally makes you salivate. You have no shame in raking your eyes over him as he cocks an eyebrow, moving over to turn the shower on. Water begins to stream from two copper showerheads, and steam begins to fill the space immediately.

You pull the straps of your dress down, slowly inching the tight dress over your breasts, stomach, and hips… really making a show of removing what little clothing you have left on. Jake is eyeing you still as he roughly grabs his belt, ripping it from its buckle and pulling it from the loops. For the love of god, you could watch him do that over and over again…

He kicks his pants off as you finally slip free of your dress, reaching down to pick it up and hang it over the doorknob. You’re left in just your thong, feeling exposed as Jake stands before you in his dark gray boxers. He slowly walks to you, placing his warm hands on your waist as he kisses you again, slow and deep and sultry as you let his tongue explore just a little further than it had earlier.

He begins backing you up to the shower, the steam now coating the mirrors and window of the room. “I’m really fucking hungry for you, Y/N, in case you haven’t noticed…” Jake says as he takes your hand, placing it directly on his dick. Fuck, you’re in for it.

You take the liberty, and gently squeeze at it. “I’ve noticed.”

His mouth reconnects with yours again, the action of hungry really coming in to play as his fingers are slipping into the hips of your thong, running around the hem to the front. “Take it off,” you order him, swirling your hips a little as he begins to pull the fabric from your waist.

“Yes ma’am,” he grits. You do the same for him after you kick free of the last shred of fabric on your body, pulling his boxers down and off, all the way.

Through the steam, you can finally see him and he can finally see you, completely naked and baring yourselves to one another in the most enticing way possible. And god, is he a sight to see.

His hand comes up to cover his mouth in disbelief, and you can see him smiling behind his covertness. “You’re really, really gorgeous, Y/N.” His compliment sends butterflies through your belly, and you rush to him again, pushing him back and into the hot downpour of the shower.

The water blinds you completely as you’re both standing beneath it, a mess of slipping hands and missed kisses, all inhibitions out the window as neither of you can see what you’re doing. His hands find your tits, gripping them both in his hands and squeezing them with just enough force to make your back arch. His fingers work at your nipples, giving him a straightshot to go ahead and connect his mouth. He sucks one particularly hard, letting his lips pop off it with a loud snap.

“Fuck,” you breathe, finally wiping the water clear from your eyes. You’re met with a soaked Jake, grinning at you so deviously that you swear you could devour him, right then and there. He pulls you back a little again, pressing your back against the cold tile wall as he falls to his knees.

He’s biting at the skin of your stomach and hips, leaving marks you’re sure will be there tomorrow. He’s absolutely ravenous, and you know exactly what he’s about to do. His hands grip your ass, pulling at the muscles to make you lean into him, exposing your cunt to his ready and waiting mouth. Your hands find his head, your fingers tangling in his hair already as you feel yourself dripping with anticipation. Everything is rough, and forced, and so, so deliciously exhilarating.

He reaches behind himself and pulls his hair free from its knot, giving you so much more freedom to wrap it around your fingers. It’s like he knows you’re going to need something to hold on to.

His brown eyes shoot up to you, silently asking for permission to go further, of which you respond with a harsh nod. In less than a second his face is buried in you, his tongue already lapping through your folds and licking at you so deliciously that your knees start to buckle. He catches you, though, as if he had anticipated it, holding you steadily against the wall.

“God, baby,” you cry out, wiping away the water falling into his face and in his eyes. He feels absolutely incredible, like an otherworldly experience you had no idea you needed to feel. Pleasure is already wracking through you at an ungodly pace, until you feel his tongue swirling your clit, making you cry out again. Your head flies back as your hand covers your mouth, blocking any sound from escaping.

Jake lifts your left leg, tossing it over his shoulder to give him better access. “Let me hear you baby,” he says, “we’re the only ones here.” Your cries are pitiful as he pulls at your ass again, burying himself even further. You’re sure he’s going to drown as the shower is pouring directly on him, giving him little room to inhale anything other than water. Your fingers wrap up in his strands as you feel your hips begin to grind onto his face, swirling themselves as he moves his tongue to enter you, wet and luscious as his nose hits directly on your clit.

“Fuuuuuck!” you yell out again, unable to stop yourself from letting him know how good he’s doing.

Everything is happening so fast and so fiercely that you’re already nearing the edge, but you want this to last as long as it possibly can. He hums on you as his nose pumps against your clit, and you know that even if you could clear the water falling into your eyes, you still wouldn’t be able to see straight.

You feel your body beginning to tighten, the muscles in your stomach becoming rigid and tense as you feel the sweet release knocking on your front door. He notices this, and brings his finger up to take the place of his tongue. He slides it inside you, and the feeling is even better than you’d thought it’d be, given that he’d only given you an inch or so in the car, earlier. He starts pumping it with force, his speed only increasing as you are trying your best to breathe through ragged breaths.

“That good baby?” he asks, breaking away for air.

You nod, “So close…”

He flicks his finger up to the perfect hook, massaging your g-spot as his tongue still laps away, perfectly pointed on your oversensitive clit. You know that his fingers are only a preview of the real thing, and already you realize that if he is this good with just his hands, how is he going to be in bed?

“Oh god, baby… I–” You hunch over, your hands pulling his hair so hard you want to apologize, but he brings you to an orgasm so delicious you have to remind yourself where you are, and what you’re doing. His lips circle around your clit, pulling it into his mouth in quick motions while circling still with his tongue. The motion is new to you and you swear for a second you go deaf from the pleasure.

“Mmhmm, mhmm,” he hums onto you, releasing his finger and letting his tongue take its place again, collecting up everything he can as you find your mind.

After a few seconds he slowly stands up, wiping the drenched strands away from your face as he gives you an energetic smile.

“Jake, that was…” you can hardly form a thought before he’s turning you around, reaching for a bottle of shampoo to wash your hair for you. You let him, knowing that your elation is too high to even argue with him. He massages your scalp before rinsing all the suds, then gives you a healthy dose of whatever conditioner he has sitting in the corner, massaging it into your strands again.

For a minute, everything is… peaceful.

“Why you taking such good care of me?” you finally ask, feeling his still-hard length brushing across your ass.

“Because I want to. Any other questions?”

You laugh through your nose, realizing that enough time has passed that you’re damn near getting turned on, all over again. You shake your head no.

You switch off, washing and massaging Jake’s hair for him as no words at all are exchanged. Comfortable silence.

After you’re all washed and a little pruny, you turn to him again, this time the both of you exchanging looks that aren’t laced with as much aggression, but more painted with looks of desire that make your stomach swirl with the perfect anxiety.

“You ready to get out of here?” he asks, reaching for the shower handle to switch it off.

The two of you step out and you reach for a towel, but his hand stops you. “Hmm-mm,” he says, gently grabbing your hips. His lips are instantly connected to your neck, whispering sweet little nothings in your ear as you feel him pushing you to walk again, right over to the countertop. He spins you backward, and you find yourself facing a steam-covered mirror.

He reaches up and wipes it clean, and it's then that you see the reflection of the two of you, flushed and soaked and in pure and utter bliss… together. You take the initiative and lean over for him, stepping your legs apart as you eye him in the reflection.

His eyes glaze over with a hunger again, and as you press your ass back on him, the ravenous attitude returns. He places one hand on your waist and the other disappears between you, and you finally feel the touch of his dick rolling through your folds, instantly making you dripping wet all over again.

You watch as he grits his jaw, his cheeks puffing up with air as his eyes watch himself, deliciously entering you inch by inch. Goddamn, he’s a lot bigger than you had imagined… He presses himself all the way in, finally looking at you again in the mirror as he slowly pulls back out, his eyes rushing back between you so he can watch himself do it all over again.

Just the thought of him wanting to watch himself fuck you turns you on exponentially.

The feeling of him inside you is earth-shattering, to say the least. Each thrust is better than the last, and he hasn’t even picked up any pace yet. “Fucking hell, Jake… Oh my god…” you say, your jaw falling open as you squint your eyes closed. He moves his hand to hold on to your shoulder, picking up a pace now that has your mind reeling with a blinding pleasure you’ve never even felt before.

You arch your back for him, giving him a new angle to pound himself relentlessly into you, the sounds of your still-wet bodies smacking together echoing off the walls and making for an even more shrewd display. You watch him as he fucks you, powerful and gorgeous and sweet, making sure to catch your eye contact every few seconds to let you know he’s still there. It’s truly unreal, and you can hardly even catch your breath as you watch yourselves.

“Fuck, Y/N, keep taking it, baby…” he finally speaks, his head falling back a little as he slows his pace, concentrating now on a different stroke. He snaps his hips upward, hitting you in a whole new place deep inside. It nearly chokes you, the pleasure unimaginable and overtaking your every thought.

“It’s yours, Jake, it’s all–”

His hand grips in your hair, pulling your neck back in a tight jerk. The motion makes you feel used in the best way as he thrusts even more deeply now. Your hands are holding onto the sink for dear life as the water still in your hair drips down into your face.

Suddenly, Jake pulls all the way out, spinning you around to face him. His mouth is connected to yours in a flash, and you kiss him back, digging your fingernails into his ass to show him how pissed you are that he stopped. The two of you whine into each other’s mouths, desperate as you feel him pick you up and begin walking to the door. You can’t see where he’s going, but you don’t even care. You’re burying your tongue into his mouth and biting at his lips, feeling like an insatiable rabid animal for him.

You’re flying through the air backwards before you land on his mattress, bouncing a few times into the thick and plush down comforter that smells exactly like him. “Jake, we’re soaked, let me dry off, we’ll ruin your–”

“Do you think I give a goddamn about getting my sheets wet, Y/N?” he yelps, cutting you off from standing back up to get a towel. His hand is on your chest, gently urging you to fall back down into the messiness of his unmade bed.

It’s the most comfortable thing you’ve ever laid on, and the blankets and sheets are like mountains around you, protecting you and holding you between them. You feel safe here, you feel good.

“Say wet again,” you say, remembering how much you liked to hear him to say it.

He crawls back over you, pulling a dark blanket behind him as he positions himself between your legs, covering the two of you up in a warmth you can’t explain.

“Wet, wet… soaking fucking wet,” he sings as he pushes himself into you again, taking all the air from your lungs as you feel him enter you this way. You whine pathetically into his mouth, feeling so vulnerable and unguarded in his presence. Your hands fly above your head, letting his body weight fuck into you again. Every nerve ending in your body is on fire, zapping your every cell into a state of shock. You’ve never had sex like this before. What had you been missing out on with him, all this time?

There’s no light around you at all as the blanket is tucked into your sides, tightly wrapping you both up so you have no choice but to touch on nearly every surface of your bodies. You slide against one another, your hands coming down from above you to grab onto him, pull his hair, and grip his jaw for an overly-forceful kiss.

The way his breathy grunts sound in your ear make you soak again and again, and you know he can feel it. “Is that all for me, baby?” he asks, and you nod, breathing heavily as the pleasure wracks through you over and over again.

“All for you, all of it’s yours…” you breathe, wrapping your ankles around his back. “You feel so fucking good baby, god… please don’t stop…” you beg him, already feeling another impending orgasm on the horizon.

Your mind is so far away from everything that has happened tonight, and from Danny, and from whatever other girl he has been with, all this time. You could care less about it all. The way Jake is making you feel right now, the way he has been making you feel all night interrupts everything else so easily that you don’t even know why you were worried in the first place.

He’s perfect, this is perfect.

You pull the blanket back to uncover your heads, and you can finally see his face in the dim light of his room, fucked-out and ethereal as he continues. Your hand reaches up to grip around his neck, your fingers pressing over his jugular as his mouth opens for just a split second. You watch as his eyes fill with that same darkness again, and you know for a fact he wants you to do it. “Harder,” he says, so you listen, choking him with a little more intensity as you feel his thrusts begin to falter.

You feel like he can’t be deep enough, nothing will ever satiate you enough, when it comes to him. Your knees fall apart even further as your ankles uncross, and you stretch your legs up to hang over his shoulders, folding your body in half. “Oh my god babe,” he breathes, leaning all his bodyweight onto the backs of your legs. Your fingers still wrap around his throat, and you grab his hand, pulling his middle finger deeply into your mouth. You wrap your tongue around it, sucking and swirling as you hold him up through his thrusts, now deeper and rougher at this angle.

You watch his eyebrows furrow together as he starts to lose his composure, his entire body beginning to tremble as you realize you’re right there with him. Your eyes meet with his as you watch him, so much more beautiful than you could have ever imagined.

You pull his finger in as deeply as it will go as you start to chase your own high, your entire body quaking as your muscles experience your second orgasm of the night.

“Yeah… yeah…fuck…” he exclaims, biting his own lips.

Your mouth falls open to cry out, every inch of your body raving and shaking with unimaginable pleasure. He’s falling apart on top of you as he lets himself go, and you make a promise right then and there that you’d never settle for anything less than what Jake has given you, tonight.

His body trembles with a few aftershocks, making him hum through the comedown. He pulls out, and you instantly wish he was back, lying on top of you in the coziness of his bed. He’s panting and out of breath as he runs his hands down the lengths of your legs, lovingly kissing the insides of them as he steps back from you and off of the bed.

“I’ll get a washcloth,” he says, stepping sideways into the floor.

“It’s ok, I’ll come with you,” knowing that you’d prefer to clean yourself up, and get a towel for your still-soaked hair. You hop up and walk past him, smacking him on the ass as you dash to the bathroom.

After you’d both cleaned up, you follow him back into his bedroom, searching around for that pile of clothes that you were sure he’d grabbed again for you. You locate them easily, and slip the t-shirt and pants on.

“What are you doing?” he asks from the bed, reclining with his arm behind his head.

“Getting dressed,” you say. “I’ll get another Uber, they should still be out and abou–”

“Y/N, get your ass back in bed with me, don’t be insane,” Jake chortles as if you’d just suggested the most ridiculous thing ever.

You roll your eyes, a little embarrassed now. “Jake, it’s fine, I can go home. I know it’d probably be weird of me to stay.”

He sits up, and you realize that he’s still completely naked under the covers. “Have things ever been weird between us?” he asks, his voice a little more serious than before. “In all the years we’ve been friends?”

You stand awkwardly there in his clothes, in the middle of his bedroom, considering his question. “No.”

“Exactly,” he says as he lays back down. “Now strip down again, and get back over here with me. Unless you’d rather take the couch downstairs… Up to you, sweetcheeks.”

Thereeeeee’s the old Jake.

You huff a breath of annoyance. You know he’s right. “Ok, but only because you’re so bossy.”

You pull the pants back down, but decide to leave his shirt on before climbing back under the unbelievably comfortable sheets and pillows. His arms pull you in toward him before you even have a chance to lay down all the way, and you instantly are brought right back into that safe, comfortable embrace that is him.

“Yeah, actually, leave the shirt on. Looks good on you,” he says, placing a kiss to your temple.

You laugh as you dig down in beside him, tossing your leg over his waist. “Thanks. Think I’ll steal it.”

He reaches down to hike your leg up higher, then pulls your palm up to his lips as he places a sweet kiss to it.

“You’ve stolen more than the shirt, babe.”

<333

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extinctpussy · 5 months ago

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me when someone tells me they care about and love me and want good things for me and think I’m a great person:

#I have to yell about it on here bc I don’t wanna tell anyone from real life so if you know me no you don’t but omg #what in the shojo manga ass…..#guys I have had a huge crush that I assumed was unrequited as usual on this person I worked with for a very long time who is like my bestie #and then they confessed to ME out of nowhere like a god damn anime episode like wtf literally. huh? my flabbers were gasted #what how why when who how #but it’s like. not something that can be done anything about right now with where we both are in life and it’s like #dead ass both being like yeah I imagine in another parallel universe where shit works out we have a pretty nice life together and are happy #WHAT #personal #crazy #djfjgklhlh #delete later #had to put this out of my brain bc I’m going crazy lol #like what #I’m such a weird and consider myself unlovable person in a lot of ways so it’s like #idk I always have big feelings for important people in my life who for whatever reason I either can’t be with or they don’t like me back and #now I’m like WAIT YOU DID LIKE ME BACK THE ENTIRE TIME ????#and you’re TELLING ME? and you’re SERIOUS? and not LYING?#HUH #damn #anyway #shut up Marina #lol #YELLING

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what-even-is-sleep · 8 months ago

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Thinking about Bodkin bc like found family trope but you’re more like ough.. uh oh.. OH MY GOD… uhhh… AHH… AHHHHH… aghhh.. OH MY GOD NO

#mypost #bodkin #bodkin Netflix #I am NOT accurately describing the rollercoaster bc i watched the full show over the course of the last month with my mom #WATCHED THE LAST TWO EPISODES TONIGHT #WENT FERAL #PLEASASEEEE #no ‘you’re lying!’ trope— IM ROMANIAN #like…. him listing Romanian facts (instead of straight up being like ‘naur… ur lying 🥺’ —SHOW DONT TELL GOT ME SO FUCJING GOOD #BITTHCCC #GOT ME TEARING UP #SEAN JUST BEINF SHIT ON #BY SEAMUS IN ALL THE DEALS #BEING CONFRONTED BY SO MANY INTENSE RELEVATIONS #AND THEN #(spoilers spoilers for those who haven’t watched spoilers spoilers spoilers aheaaaaaaaaaadddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd #HIS FUCKING #GUAGHHHHHHHHHH #I CANT EVEN #the thumb bit got me so good too (almost burst out laughing)#I know it’s serious and fucked up BUT FUCKING #AJDBIWNSJWISHEJ #SLAPPING SOMEONE WITH A FINGER THAT JUST GOT SHOT OFF #pls it’s so bad in that situation that it’s funny #god what a fucking story…#AND THEN OIGHHHG #THE WHOLE WRAPAROUND ABOUT STORIES AND WHAT YOU DO TO GET THEM AND HOW THEY EFFECT PEOPLE #OUGHHHHH #IF YOUVE GOTTEN THIS FAR PLEAAAASE WATCH THIS SHOW

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kavehayati · 6 months ago

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I cannot fathom the level of self importance some people must have to behave this way

#it’s more so selfishness lmao #idk I’m getting unnecessarily worked up about this but 6 months ago I kinda vanished off of everywhere and then I noticed she deleted some #messages #girl I would’ve responded later calm down gosh the messages aren’t going anywhere nor are they disappearing #dora daily #I think of all people who should be mad you’re the last one because tell me why you were so viscerally rude to me since the beginning and #played a massive part of the roaa situation by being complacent when oh ! I thought you’d side with your alleged best friend ME #girl you have no right to complain at all not to mention you take FOREVER when you have no excuse to reply back but when I’m struggling I #apparently have zero excuse ☠️ girl bye #not to mention the fact that when I was so frustrated with myself having these bad headaches and being so incapable of doing anything when #exams were so close all you had to say was what can I do #well bitch what could I have done when you were at hospital #I guarantee you I was the only one texting you 24:7 asking how you were #reassuring you that it’s okay to feel upset about being in the fucking hospital and you don’t need to have such toxic positivity all the tim #oh but when the other girl had freaking back pain from her period or something apparently that’s more of a concern #girl bye #not me who has chronic headaches and cannot even study and nothing sticking cause it’s that bad #oh but go ahead compare it to your chronic illnesss like yes it’s horrible and yes it impacts you a lot #but I don’t think it impacts your brain and memorisation capacity #not to mention how fucking jealous she is of everything like I can say oh god I was so stressed and girl she has not felt stress in her life #compared to what I go through yet she is jealous of the fact I can stress ? tf?#and when I say I almost passed out cause of exhaustion she doesn’t give a shit when I was being so serious #in truth I’ve come to realise nobody does seem to care at all lmao they all think I’m lying #why would I lie about that be so fucking fr rn #anyways this is why I simply don’t want to talk about my physical condition with anyone anymore because they’ll think I’m a liar anyways 🤷‍♀#not to mention the fact if you even knew me a little you’d understand that it’s so impossibly hard for me to feel comfortable enough to #complain to talk about me feeling sick or sad or whatever I only do it here cause no one follows me and no one will rlly see it at all #but even here I feel like my throat closes up and I can barely breathe when I do complain #so pls …#this one sided friendship thing is crazy cause girl how do I shake you off?

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s1xseasonsandamov1e · 10 months ago

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not to be all typical teenage “i hate my parents” but do they just lose all sense of empathy the second they turn 50? is that like. a thing?

#when i tell you i don’t want you to ask my sister and her friend to leave i’m being fucking serious #don’t just think you know better and do whatever the fuck you want #also why do they assume you’re always lying or hiding something #i don’t want you to look through my phone cause i want fucking privacy like everyone else #kids are human beings too how is this a hard concept to grasp #and it so much worse when you’re mentally ill #like maybe i don’t wanna make dinner cause i’m fucking depressed not cause i’m lazy #and it’s also so different when you’re percieved female versus male #my brother will sit in his chair and play the same game for 8 hours straight and then take the trash out once and somehow be deemed more #productive than me even though i cleaned the kitchen and again im fucking depressed and autistic and hes neurotypical

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shadowbelle94 · 2 years ago

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Just to let y’all know, if Neil and Craig put Ellie in the shed in season 2, I stg I’m gonna lose every single one of my marbles

#this is kinda a shitpost but also no it’s not I’m dead serious #like I kinda get it in the context of the game…but also no I don’t #like don’t get me wrong I get it for after the lie is revealed because she wants that distance and they’ve already said before that Ellie #knows on some level that Joel’s lying to her so she starts creating that distance #HOWEVER.#you’re gonna sit there and tell me that after everything joel ‘girl dad’ miller did to make sure that Ellie is safe and comfortable in their #new life that he’s gonna put her in the shed????#like. no. that’s not happening #even if she went up to him and asked him ‘ayyo can i sleep in the big wooden box outside instead of the warm safe house?’#joel would just say ‘haha. absolutely not.’ with his whole chest #like yeah he’s a pushover and that hardened criminal of a man is completely wrapped around that little gremlin’s finger #but I’m sorry you can’t convince me that joel ‘girl dad’ miller would let his precious baby be anywhere that isn’t in his actual home #where he can keep an eye on her and make sure she’s safe. and he can’t do that of his baby’s in the shed #don’t put baby in the shed #just don’t do it hbo. or you’re gonna have to deal with me foaming at the mouth in rage. and trust me no one wants that #tlou #the last of us #hbo’s the last of us #joel miller #ellie williams #neil druckmann #craig mazin #hbo

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lizziesangel · 2 months ago

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RAFE CAMERON ⟢ the language of roses

x FEM!reader ⟢ MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: your entire life rafe had been giving you roses in different colours, but you never knew what he really wanted to say

WORD COUNT: 3956

GENRE: fluff

CONTENT WARNING: english is NOT my first language, soft!rafe cameron, oblivious!reader

rafe cameron was the kind of kid who never sat still. always running, climbing, jumping off something too high just to prove he could. but there was one thing he always slowed down for: you.

you didn’t know why, back then. it wasn’t like you’d done anything special. you were just the girl who lived two houses down, the one who tagged along on all his adventures because you were good at keeping up. you’d follow him through the woods behind the cameron house, across the sandy dunes near the water, and even onto the roof of the clubhouse his dad had built in their backyard.

but every so often, he’d stop, like he’d remembered something important, and he’d disappear for a minute or two.

the first time it happened, you were seven. you’d been playing hide-and-seek in the cameron yard, and you’d been crouched behind the garden shed for what felt like forever, waiting for him to find you. when he finally did, he was grinning, his hair messy and sticking to his forehead. in his hand was a single yellow rose.

“what’s that for?” you’d asked, wrinkling your nose.

“it’s for you,” he said, holding it out like it was no big deal.

“why?”

he’d shrugged. “just ‘cause. you’re my best friend.”

that became his thing.

when you scraped your knee climbing a tree, rafe handed you a yellow rose from his mom’s garden and said, “it’ll make you feel better.”

when you had to spend a week at your grandparents’ house and came back sulking about missing the beach, there he was with another yellow rose.

“what does it mean?” you’d asked one day, sitting cross-legged on his bed as he sorted through his pokémon cards.

“what?” he asked, not looking up.

“the roses. why do you always give me yellow ones?”

he paused, his hands stilling. “it’s just… you know. the prettiest one i could find.”

“oh.”

he’d gone back to his cards, but you’d stared at the flower on the bedside table, something about it making your chest feel funny.

by the time you were ten, the roses felt like part of your routine. if you had a bad day at school, rafe would show up with one tucked behind his ear, waiting for you at your front door.

“here,” he’d say, handing it over with a grin. “it’s magic. makes everything better.”

“that’s not how magic works,” you’d reply, but you always accepted it anyway.

it wasn’t just the big moments, either. sometimes he gave you roses just because. like when you’d meet him at the playground on a sunny afternoon, or when he’d knock on your window late at night to tell you about a new fort he wanted to build in the woods.

“another one?” you’d tease, twirling the stem between your fingers.

“yep.”

“what’s it for this time?”

“i dunno. just wanted to give it to you.”

you never questioned it. rafe was rafe. the roses were just part of the deal.

but one day, when you were twelve, something changed.

he’d been quiet all afternoon, which wasn’t like him. usually, rafe was the loudest person in the room, always cracking jokes or talking a mile a minute. but that day, as you sat side by side on the dock near his house, he barely said a word.

“what’s up with you?” you asked, nudging him with your elbow.

“nothing,” he muttered, staring at the water.

“you’re lying.”

he looked at you then, his blue eyes serious in a way that made your stomach flip. after a long moment, he reached into his bag and pulled out another yellow rose.

“here,” he said quietly.

you took it, studying his face. “rafe, what’s wrong?”

“nothing,” he said again, but this time, he gave you a small smile. “i just wanted you to have it. that’s all.”

you didn’t push him. instead, you leaned your head against his shoulder, the rose resting in your lap.

“thanks,” you whispered.

“anytime,” he replied.

by the time you were twelve, the yellow roses were a part of you. a part of him. they showed up in places they didn’t belong—pressed between notebook pages, tucked into old shoeboxes, even wilting in jars on your windowsill. you didn’t really know why you kept them, but you couldn’t throw them away. they were yours.

but then, something changed, again.

it happened on a random summer afternoon. the sun was blazing, and you were sprawled out in the cameron backyard, sipping lemonade while rafe fixed the broken tire swing.

“you’re gonna break your neck,” you called out, watching him balance precariously on the wooden frame.

he rolled his eyes but didn’t answer. rafe never did listen to you when it came to stuff like this.

when he finally hopped down, covered in dirt and grass, he didn’t head straight for the lemonade like you expected. instead, he disappeared into the house without a word.

“what are you doing?” you shouted after him, but he didn’t answer.

a few minutes later, he came back, holding something behind his back.

“close your eyes,” he said, a grin tugging at his lips.

“why?”

“just do it!”

you sighed but obeyed, covering your face with your hands. “this better not be another bug.”

“it’s not,” he promised, laughing. “okay, open.”

when you did, he was standing there with a single white rose.

“what’s this for?” you asked, staring at the delicate petals.

he shrugged, looking almost shy. “just thought you’d like it.”

“but… why white?”

“i dunno,” he said, scratching the back of his neck.

you didn’t know what to say, so you just smiled and took it from him, your fingers brushing against his for half a second. you didn’t notice the way his cheeks turned pink, or the way he stared at you a little too long before turning back to the swing.

that was the first white rose.

after that, the yellow roses didn’t come often anymore. instead, you’d find white ones—on your doorstep, in your locker, or handed over with a casual, “here, this is for you.”

you never asked why.

by the time you were fourteen, white roses were the new normal. rafe had grown taller, his voice deeper, his confidence sharper. but when he gave you roses, he was still the same boy you’d known forever.

“for me?” you asked one day, twirling the stem of yet another white rose.

“who else?” he replied, grinning.

then came your sixteenth birthday. you didn’t expect anything big—just a day at the beach with rafe, like always. but when he showed up at your door, he wasn’t empty-handed.

“what’s this?” you asked, staring at the bouquet of pink roses in his hands.

he shrugged, but his usual confidence was missing. “birthday gift,” he said, thrusting them toward you.

you took them, your heart racing. “they’re… really pretty.”

“yeah, well. so are you.”

the words hung in the air, heavier than they should’ve been. you stared at him, your cheeks burning, and for the first time, you didn’t know what to say.

by the time you were seventeen, things had changed. it wasn’t just the way you and rafe had grown up—it was the way he’d changed.

you could see it the moment he introduced her—lily, the new girl with the perfect hair and the perfect laugh and the perfect smile. she was everything you weren’t, and you hated how easily rafe seemed to fall for her.

but that wasn’t the worst part.

the worst part was that the roses stopped.

it was a sudden thing. at first, there were other flowers—a bouquet of daisies here, a random tulip there—but never roses. not the yellow ones you’d grown used to, not the white ones or the pink ones that had become a quiet declaration between the two of you. just... no flowers.

at first, you told yourself it didn’t matter. it didn’t. rafe had a girlfriend now.

he didn’t owe you roses anymore.

but you missed them. you missed the thoughtfulness, the friendship, the feeling that, no matter what, you still had a place in his life.

and then the your biggest fear came true—he stopped being your friend altogether.

lily didn’t like how close you and rafe had been. she didn’t want him hanging out with his girl best friend anymore. so rafe, being rafe, did what he always did when he felt cornered: he let go.

you didn’t get it at first. he’d stopped answering your texts, stopped showing up at the usual spots. at school, he’d walk by you without even looking up. you’d sit at lunch, watching him and lily from the other side of the cafeteria, and it made your chest ache in a way you couldn’t explain.

there were no more texts to plan beach trips or late-night talks. no more spontaneous hangouts. nothing.

you tried reaching out once, twice, even three times, but it was always the same—short answers, distant replies, the kind that made it clear he didn’t want to try anymore.

it was too painful. so you stopped trying.

instead, you focused on other things—other people.

it wasn’t like you didn’t have friends, but the friends you had before had always been people who had fallen into your life by default. you had never needed to work for them. they were always there, easy to hold on to. but now, as you walked down the hallway of your high school with a new group of girls—girls who wanted to be your friends, who made an effort to include you, to laugh with you, to spend time with you—you realized something important.

you were learning to let go too.

the girls were different. they were fun and supportive in ways you hadn’t realized you were missing. no one ever told you to back off from their boyfriends. no one ever gave you that uncomfortable look when you were laughing too loudly with one of the guys in the group.

it was easier, in a way. no complications. no unspoken feelings. just fun, carefree friendships.

but you couldn’t help but feel that gnawing ache in your chest whenever you saw rafe and lily together. it was like a quiet reminder that everything between you and him was over.

and then, one day, you saw it.

lily posted a story on instagram—a picture of a vase of flowers. they were bright and pretty, but there was something painfully obvious about them. they weren’t roses.

never roses.

they were daisies. lilies. tulips.

anything but roses.

you looked over at your new group of friends—laughing at something ridiculous, pulling you into their conversation—and for the first time in a long while, you realized something important: you were okay.

no, you weren’t fine. you missed rafe. you missed your best friend. but you weren’t going to stay in the past.

there was a part of you that hoped rafe would realize what he’d lost, that maybe, one day, he’d come back and apologize. but for now, you had other things to focus on.

and maybe that was enough for now.

but still, you didn’t expect to see rafe cameron waiting for you after school.

the day had been uneventful—just the usual classes, the usual laughs with your friends, the usual reminder in the back of your mind that rafe wasn’t part of your world anymore.

but there he was. leaning against the wall near the parking lot, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, his hair a mess like he’d been running his fingers through it all day.

your first instinct was to ignore him. he hadn’t spoken to you in months. months. he’d chosen lily, chosen her rules, chosen to let go of everything you’d shared.

but something about the way he looked—lost, broken, sad—stopped you.

you stepped closer, hesitant. “rafe?”

his head snapped up, his blue eyes locking onto yours. for a second, he didn’t say anything, just stared at you like he couldn’t believe you were real.

“hey,” he said finally, his voice hoarse.

“what are you doing here?” you asked, your tone sharper than you meant it to be.

he flinched, but he didn’t back down. “i... i needed to see you.”

“why?”

“because—” he broke off, running a hand through his hair. “because i screwed up. and because i didn’t know where else to go.”

you crossed your arms, trying to ignore the way your chest tightened. “what about lily?”

he laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “she’s gone. we broke up.”

“oh.”

you didn’t know what else to say. part of you wanted to walk away, to tell him it wasn’t your problem anymore. but the other part—the bigger part, the one that still cared—couldn’t do it.

“come on,” you said, jerking your head toward your car.

he blinked, surprised. “really?”

“yeah,” you muttered. “let’s go.”

the drive back to your house was quiet, the air between you heavy with things unsaid. when you got home, you led him to your room, just like you always used to.

he sat on the edge of your bed, looking around like he couldn’t believe he was there again. “you changed it,” he said, his voice soft.

“yeah,” you replied, sitting cross-legged on the other side. “it’s been a while.”

he nodded, staring down at his hands. “i’m sorry.”

“for what?”

“for everything. for shutting you out. for choosing her. for being an idiot.”

you didn’t say anything, letting the silence stretch between you.

“i missed you,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

you looked at him then, really looked at him, and you saw it—the boy you’d grown up with, the one who used to make you laugh until your stomach hurt, the one who always brought you roses.

“i missed you too,” you admitted.

his head snapped up, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite name. “yeah?”

“yeah,” you said, smiling faintly. “but you’re still an idiot.”

he laughed, and for a moment, it was like nothing had changed.

you talked for hours, just like you used to. about everything and nothing, about the way life had shifted and the things you’d both been through. it was easy, familiar, like slipping back into an old rhythm.

when he finally stood to leave, you followed him to the door, your heart heavier than you wanted to admit.

“thanks for... for letting me in,” he said, his hand lingering on the doorknob.

“you’re always welcome,” you said softly.

he nodded, gave you one last look, and then he was gone.

when you turned back toward your room, something caught your eye—a splash of color on your bed.

frowning, you walked closer, and your breath caught in your throat.

a single purple rose rested on your pillow.

you picked it up, your fingers trembling as you held it to your chest.

you sank onto the bed, staring at the flower, your mind spinning.

he hadn’t said it, but he didn’t need to. the rose said everything he couldn’t.

and for the first time in a long while, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you and rafe weren’t finished after all.

by the time you were eighteen, you and rafe had found your way back to each other.

it hadn’t been easy, not at first. there were awkward silences, half-finished sentences, and moments where you both stumbled over how to act around each other. but slowly, the cracks healed. the space between you shrank. and before you knew it, you were best friends again, just like you’d been before everything fell apart.

except now, things were different in a way you couldn’t quite put your finger on. it wasn't different as in your roses changed from yellow to white, it was just... different.

rafe spent more time with you and your friends than he did with his own. he’d show up at your place unannounced, invite himself to girls’ nights, and make himself at home in your little world. your friends loved him—who wouldn’t? he was funny, charming, and could win over just about anyone with a crooked smile and a well-timed joke.

and then there were the roses.

at first, it had felt like slipping back into an old routine. rafe had always given you flowers—yellow for friendship, white for something deeper, pink for gratitude and love. so when he started showing up with four roses every time he saw you, you didn’t think much of it.

a pink rose, soft and sweet. a white rose, pure and delicate. a yellow rose, bright and cheerful. and a dark pink rose, richer, deeper, full of meaning you didn’t quite understand.

“what’s this for?” you’d ask every time, your voice teasing.

“do i need a reason?” he’d reply, smirking as he handed them over.

you’d roll your eyes, tuck them into a vase, and move on.

it wasn’t until one friday night, when rafe wasn’t there, that your friends brought it up.

you were sprawled out on your living room floor with your two best friends, abby and jen, eating popcorn and flipping through magazines. the absence of rafe’s usual presence was noticeable, but you didn’t mention it.

“so,” abby said, sitting up and tossing a kernel into her mouth. “are you and rafe, like... a thing?”

you blinked, startled. “what?”

jen raised an eyebrow. “you and rafe. are you dating?”

you laughed, the sound a little too loud. “no. what? no way. we’re just friends.”

“just friends?” abby repeated, her tone skeptical.

“yes,” you said firmly. “we’ve been best friends since we were kids. that’s all it is.”

jen exchanged a look with abby, then turned back to you. “okay, but... the roses?”

“what about them?”

“he gives you flowers every time he sees you!” abby said, throwing her hands up.

“so? he’s always done that.”

“always?” jen asked, her eyes wide.

“yeah,” you said with a shrug. “since we were six.”

both girls gaped at you like you’d just confessed to a crime.

“you’re telling me,” abby said slowly, “that rafe cameron has been giving you flowers for twelve years, and you’ve never thought it was weird?”

“it’s not weird,” you said defensively. “it’s just... a thing we do. it doesn’t mean anything.”

“it definitely means something,” jen said, crossing her arms. “guys don’t give roses to their best friends for over a decade unless they’re in love with them.”

“he’s not in love with me,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“babe,” abby said, leaning forward. “dark pink roses? those mean, like, admiration and gratitude, but also... y’know. romance.”

you opened your mouth to argue, but the words stuck in your throat.

“and white roses? purity. pink? love. yellow? friendship. he’s literally giving you every part of him in flower form,” jen added.

you stared at them, your mind racing.

“he’s... he’s just being rafe,” you said weakly.

“exactly,” abby said. “and rafe is in love with you.”

their words echoed in your head long after the conversation ended, and when you went to bed that night, your eyes drifted to the vase on your desk.

four roses. pink, white, yellow, dark pink.

you’d never questioned them before. but now, for the first time, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—there was more to them than you’d ever let yourself believe.

your nineteenth birthday was minutes away, and you were already in bed.

well, technically you were sitting on your bed, legs crossed, scrolling through your phone while waiting for the clock to hit midnight. your hair was twisted into perfect curls, your nose strip was firmly in place, and your face was freshly moisturized—your skincare routine impeccable as always.

you weren’t expecting anything. your friends had already promised to make a big deal out of it tomorrow, and you figured the actual moment of your birthday would pass quietly, just you and your phone and a sleepy smile.

but then you heard the faint scrape of your window.

at first, you froze. was someone trying to break in?

“relax,” came a familiar voice, low and teasing. “it’s just me.”

“rafe?”

you slid off your bed, rushing to the window to find him perched on the ledge, one hand gripping the frame, the other holding something behind his back.

“what are you doing?” you hissed, trying to keep your voice down. “it’s midnight!”

“exactly,” he said, flashing that boyish grin that always got him out of trouble. “happy birthday.”

you blinked, completely thrown off. “you climbed up here for that?”

he shrugged, effortlessly pulling himself through the window and into your room. “you’re worth it.”

“you’re insane.”

“and you’ve got... something on your nose,” he said, his gaze locking onto the strip.

your cheeks flushed. you’d completely forgotten about your skincare situation.

“oh my god, i look ridiculous,” you muttered, turning away from him.

“no, you look... like you,” he said, his voice softer now.

you glanced back at him, narrowing your eyes. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it means i like you better like this,” he said simply. “no makeup, no filters, just... you.”

before you could respond, he brought his hand forward, revealing the bouquet he’d been holding.

“here,” he said, holding it out to you.

you stared at it, your heart doing a strange little flip. the roses were beautiful—soft pastel purple, deep dark purple, a single vivid red, and of course, the familiar yellow.

“rafe,” you whispered, taking them from him. “you didn’t have to—”

“yeah, i did,” he cut you off. “you deserve them.”

“rafe...” you started, but the words wouldn’t come.

he shrugged like it was no big deal, but the way he looked at you told you otherwise. “happy birthday,” he said again, his voice soft, his eyes searching yours.

you stared at him, your heart thudding in your chest. the weight of the flowers in your hands, the warmth in his gaze, the fact that he’d climbed through your window just to be the first to see you on your birthday—it was all too much and somehow just enough.

“thank you,” you whispered, your voice unsteady.

he stepped closer, his hand brushing against yours as you clutched the bouquet.

“you’re everything to me, you know that?” he said, the words tumbling out like he couldn’t hold them back any longer.

your heart stopped for a moment, then started again, faster, louder.

“rafe...”

he shook his head, his hands moving to gently frame your face. “you don’t have to say anything. just... can I—?”

he didn’t finish the sentence, but you understood.

“yes,” you breathed, barely able to get the word out.

he leaned in slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away, but you didn’t. when his lips brushed yours, it was soft at first, tentative, like he was afraid you’d disappear.

but then you kissed him back, and something inside both of you broke free.

the roses slipped from your hands onto the bed, forgotten as you melted into him, your arms winding around his neck, his fingers tangling gently in your curls.

when you finally pulled back, your forehead rested against his, both of you breathing heavily, the world outside your room completely forgotten.

“happy birthday,” he whispered again, his smile so full of affection it made your chest ache.

“best one yet,” you replied, your own smile matching his.

and as he stayed by your side, your head resting on his shoulder, the roses scattered around you, you couldn’t imagine a better way to start a new year of your life.

and for years, you kept them all—pressed between the pages of your favorite books, tucked into jars on your windowsill, little pieces of rafe that made you feel like the most important person in the world.

because to him, you were.

#lizzieswrites𝜗𝜚 #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n

3K notes · View notes

sexbot300 · 11 months ago

Text

18+, minors dni! (being a slut for nanami bc honestly who isn’t)

authors note: hello! this is my first-ever post, i hope you guys enjoy it! (I literally have no idea how layouts work yet, bear with me)

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sugardaddy!nanami who scolds you whenever you feel as if you’re “doing too much,” with all the lavish gifts he gives you. nothing is too much for his angel.

sugardaddy!nanami that asks which jewelry set you like best. emerald or ruby? ah. how about both?

sugardaddy!nanami who you thought would be a joyless, serious man as people portray him. they’re not lying, he really is serious, to people that aren’t you. you’ll witness a soft side of him that only shows the most gentle of smiles.

sugardaddy!nanami who gladly scoops you up bridal style in his arms, walking while you burry your head into his chest.

sugardaddy!nanami who unpacks the gifts he gets you on the countertop after a business trip. “kento, baby, you shouldn’t have.” you play with the polyester ribbon while he simply leans back on the fridge opening up a beverage. “I couldn’t help but have the prettiest woman in the world waiting for me at home. it would be embarrassing of me to show up empty-handed.”

sugardaddy!nanami who for the first few times that you went out with him, meticulously kept track of the things you called “cute” and noted wherever your eyes wandered for a minute too long. the next morning you woke up with everything you ogled your eyes at decorating your room. attached is a note that read, “please forgive me, sweetheart, I didn’t know which you liked best. p.s. my sincerest apologies again, I let my own thoughts get carried away. be good for me and wear this tonight.” your fingers gingerly held onto the note, until your eyes fell on two things you don’t remember looking at when you went out shopping. a beautiful silk gown and an expensive lingerie set.

sugardaddy!nanami who will gladly kneel to strap your heel, placing a kiss on your ankle, after trailing his hand up and down your shin.

sugardaddy!nanami who sends you a monthly allowance for your hair, nails, skincare, and whatever you desire.

sugardaddy!nanami who thinks indulging in materialistic things is futile, but he wants to see you decorated in every fine piece of fabric, clothing, and accessories.

sugardaddy!nanami who acts as if he’s unbothered by you curling up on his lap while he types away on his work computer. you couldn’t even tell how much he adores every second of this as he idly types away. he loves to have you pushed up on him all the time, the minute you slightly move? a strong hand is placed on your thigh or waist to prevent you from leaving.

sugardaddy!nanami who’s only condition is to continue this dynamic until you’re unhappy or want nothing to do with it. (you literally want to marry this man but okay).

sugardaddy!nanami who has a saturday night ritual with you where you buy the most extravagant of desserts and feed it to each other. oh yeah, you have to be sitting on his lap the entire time while you both feed each other from the same fork.

sugardaddy!nanami who places his nose on the nape of your neck while you’re seated on him as he sharply breathes in your scent. “as much as I enjoy eating sweets with you,” he said in a whisper, “they could never mimic your taste.”

sugardaddy!nanami who started off paying your rent, bills, and utilities which he felt mentally, secretly disgruntled by. not because he’s paying (duh) or he has to take care of you, it’s just the fact you haven’t moved in with him yet.

sugardaddy!nanami who considers you under his care and deems your wellbeing as his responsibility. you’re hurt? point to where. your body is sore? lay back down while he massages you. you’re hungry? food is being sent over and here’s money for grocery shopping. you’re upset? he kneels down in front of you as he attentively listens to your sobs.

sugardaddy!nanami who supports your hobbies. he’ll drop off little things that he knows have to do with your interests and only says, “you like this don’t you?” you name drop pilates, cooking, art, knitting, whatever it is, he signs you up for the nearest classes.

sugardaddy!nanami who actually notices if you did something different with your hair, if you wore a new shade of lip gloss. little things.

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sugardaddy!nanami who places the most tender of kisses onto your forehead like he didn’t wreck your shit a second prior. “such a good girl… i’m so so proud. taking my cock in so well.”

sugardaddy!nanami that plays with your body in subtle ways. hands? his big, veiny fingers are stroking yours gently. thighs? constantly getting gripped. your waist? a strong arm wrapped around it. your cheek? a thumb stroking it. shoulders? relieving tension from it. collarbone? rearranging your necklace so it lays properly. guts? fucked out of place. makeup? smeared all across his luxurious bedsheets. lips? blown out from sucking his monster cock and making out.

sugardaddy!nanami who rents out an entire summer beach house with a glorious view of the ocean. partially because he likes the privacy of you two alone, surrounded by nature, and romantic sunset dinners. also because he wants to watch you ride him while he leans back on a beach chair without disturbing the public. (nobody is allowed to see what’s his).

sugardaddy!nanami who actually pounded you into another dimension, your mind still in a haze while he carries you to the running bath. “stay with me princess, i need to clean you up.”

sugardaddy!nanami who makes sure you finish several times before he does. oh poor baby, you’re out of breath? would you like some water? we’re not finished yet. poor nanami didn’t get to cum once, and you so badly want him to use your body to do so.

sugardaddy!nanami who buys you a personal collection of sex toys to play with when he’s not there. he personally studies the way your body twitches and convulses with certain toys, he needs to know how to please his princess. sometimes he chuckles to himself because he knows deep down, nothing– no one, can please you the way he does.

sugardaddy!nanami who sees you stressed or crying over school and work and quickly replaces those tears with ones of joy.

sugardaddy!nanami who will have you folded like a damn lawn chair and only whisper sweet nothings while drilling into you.

sugardaddy!nanami who has a high sex drive but hides it in the beginning like the gentleman he is, making sure you feel comfortable and safe.

sugardaddy!nanami who gives you the car you’ve been wanting forever. you ride the car for a bit with him ecstatic, kissing him over and over, giggling. you both quickly found a new way to celebrate. you’re pinned down over the glove compartment, one large hand gripping both of yours as they’re pinned to your back, and the sounds of skin slapping with your loud moans mix in the air. “ke-n-toooo~ I-I don’t want to ge- uh! It m-messy in h-ere…” “don’t worry darling, I-” a low grunt comes out, “i always cum inside dont I?” he quickens up the pace only to have you screaming like a whore. “t-that’s it. just take it. It feels good, I know,” he mercilessly pounds into you, kissing your temple, “just come undone on me, that’s it. make me proud.”

sugardaddy!nanami who texts you to quickly come to the office and sends you a cab for an urgent “visit.” why? he’s stressed and his favorite method to cool down is your throat expanding around his girthy dick. he'll grip the strands of your hair while cooing at you, "i know angel, i know. but you look so beautiful right now, don't stop."

sugardaddy!nanami who groans from the stressors of his job, turning his attention to you while he pushes himself back on his chair. he looks down on his bulge before sighing and tugging his tie down left and right. “go ahead. come suck me off, i need it and I know you want it too.”

sugardaddy!nanami who does the whole pillow underneath, hand pressed on lower abdomen, with a vibrator wand abusing your clit.

sugardaddy!nanami who has a diet that consists of devouring your pussy on a regular basis. “b-babe… i- ah! s-slow down,” as you elicit a loud dirty moan that fills the room, “pleaaaase.” if only you knew he takes more pleasure out of this than you and you’re the one gripping his hair to the point of leaving his scalp red. he further pushes his nose into you, mumbling, “beg all you want, I’m not done.”

sugardaddy!nanami who is a gentleman, really. who will kill anything within 5 meters if it remotely threatens you. but he can’t help but admire the way your little cunt can’t fully take it the first few times together.

sugardaddy!nanami who never thought much of daddy kinks, but when he hears “daddy” slip out of your precious mouth, his heels dig deeper into the mattress, his massive body weight shifts crushing you, angling his dick in an almost sinful way while pressing you deeper into a mating press. “say it again.”

sugardaddy!nanami who watches you squirm with a vibrator jammed to your clit and his tongue lapping up and down your cunt like any separation from his tongue and your pussy will cause his death. “k-kento s-stop this feeli- ah! I th- oh god! I think I need to pee!” he can’t help but chuckle in his head. his baby never squirted before until now.

sugardaddy!nanami who secretly wants to get you knocked up. man loves fucking his cum into you. he has such a big breeding kink that you catch on.

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lemonlover1110 · 7 months ago

Text

𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭

Toji Fushiguro

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Summary: You're too sweet to Megumi and it drives Toji insane.

Warnings: MDNI, Fluff, Smut, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Gagging

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“Can we eat the cookies now?” Megumi looks up at you with hopeful eyes, and you smile at him before humming in response. Though Toji prohibited you from giving Megumi a cookie before dinner, you can’t say no to the sweet boy.

You think you’re being sneaky, watching out for Toji before giving him the cookie. Megumi’s eyes light up, and he snatches the treat from your hand. You ruffle his hair, a laugh leaving your lips before offering, “Do you want some milk too, honey?”

“Please.” He responds, and you can’t help but smile at him. If Toji were to catch you doing this to Megumi, he’d get so mad at you. You do understand, after all, you are breaking Toji’s rules.

You can’t help it though. Who wouldn’t be weak if the cutest little boy asked for cookies? Toji’s passed out on the couch anyway, it’s not like he’ll find out. It’ll look odd when Megumi barely touches his dinner, but lying is the easy part.

“You can’t tell your daddy, okay?” You tell Megumi, giving him the glass of milk that you offered. He nods in response, though it’ll definitely slip later. Megumi just has to eat the cookie fast enough before the old man wakes up–

Even though you haven’t heard him yet, he’s watching you. Toji has soft eyes as he sees you treat Megumi so sweetly, and how Megumi isn’t scared to ask anything from you. It’s partially because you spoil him, so maybe he shouldn’t be too surprised that Megumi goes to you for anything.

“Don’t tell me what?” He clears his throat, and your ears get hot, knowing that you’ve been caught red-handed. You hide your hands behind you as if you were a child, even when you have nothing in your hands to hide.

“Nothin’.” You try to play it off as if Megumi isn’t holding the cookie and a glass of milk. Toji rolls his eyes, going over to Megumi and taking the cookie from his hands. He shoves the cookie into his mouth, and it makes Megumi’s bottom lip quiver.

“I said no cookies before dinner.” Toji’s words are barely comprehensible since his mouth is full. Megumi lets out a cry, running to you and hugging you. He looks for comfort in you since his evil daddy stole his cookie and ate it.

You kneel down and hug Megumi, kissing the top of his head. Toji crosses his arms and rolls his eyes at the sight. His heart flutters though, and while he knows that he loves you and wants a future with you, right now he’s thinking he wants more. He has the want of something more, and he doesn’t want to wait until however soon the future is.

“I’ll give you two cookies after dinner, Megumi. Your dad is such a meanie.” Your hand runs up and down Megumi’s back, attempting to comfort him. Your words of reassurance help,

“He’s getting no cookies, and you’re on timeout too.” He tells you after he swallows the food in his mouth, and you roll your eyes.

“Toji, I’m a grown woman.” You remind him, and he sticks his tongue out at you.

“No more cookies tonight, and that’s final.” Toji makes it clear before walking away, leaving you to soothe his crying boy.

What you don’t know is that Toji isn’t mad, he’s just thinking about how you make such a great mother… His thoughts embarrass him because they’re filthier than he’d like to admit.

After putting Megumi to bed, Toji claims that he’s going to have a serious conversation with you. You’re reasonably scared at what he has to say, knowing that you’ve overstepped your boundaries. It takes you by surprise that when you get to the bedroom he locks the door before he engulfs you with kisses.

Is this the punishment Toji was talking about?

Before you know it, Toji is between your legs. His tongue runs through your folds while he pumps two fingers into your cunt. You’re biting down your lip as Toji makes you feel so good. You have to be especially quiet tonight, but you know he’s going to make the task unnecessarily difficult.

His tongue begins to flick your clit, and your chest gets heavier and heavier with every breath you take. The effect he has on you is pathetic, though you certainly don’t mind when he makes you feel like you’re on cloud nine.

“Toji…” You’re as quiet as you can be when he curves his fingers so they hit just the spot. Your lips are parted as the lowest moans leave your lips. He’s doing everything in his power to turn you into putty. “It’s so good, Toji. Fuck–”

Your thighs are squeezing his head, getting too lost in your own pleasure to care. Toji doesn’t care too much either; if this is the way that Toji dies, then he sure was a happy man during his lifetime. This is the way he wants to go, after eating his favorite meal one last time.

You’d think that after breaking his rules Toji would be mad, but this is the way he punishes you? You’re almost seeing white as pleasure consumes your body, if this is the way that Toji is going to treat you when you go against his wishes then you’ll misbehave more often.

You’re moaning his name, getting louder by the second. It’s such a sweet sound to his ears, but he can’t risk you being too loud. He takes his fingers out, flicking your clit a couple of times before rising from between your legs. There’s a taunting smirk on his lips when he stands up from the floor.

“My sweet baby, you can’t be too loud.” He warns you, his hand going under your chin and lifting your face so you have to look up at him. You bite down your lip as you nod in response. You watch him take off his shirt and pants before reaching into his drawer for the bottle of lube.

He grabs your legs, putting them over his shoulders before coating his cock with lube. He kisses your ankle as he slowly strokes his cock, making sure to tell you, “You’re so perfect, baby.”

“I need you so bad, Toji.” You sound needy. Your pussy is clenching over nothing, needing him inside of you badly. You have no idea what came over him all of a sudden, dragging you into the bedroom and putting you on the bed– You just know that you love this.

“Beg for it, baby. Use your voice.” Toji tells you, and you roll your eyes. He’s so complicated sometimes, but you’ll give in.

“Please give me your cock, Toji. Fill me up, please please please.” You’re whiny, making sure he hears what he wants to hear. He can’t help but chuckle as he runs the tip of his cock through your folds.

“I’m gonna put it in then, is that okay, baby?” He says as he pushes the tip of his cock into you. He stretches you out, and gives you a moment to adjust when he bottoms out. His hands are holding onto your thighs, nails digging into the supple skin as he praises you, “You feel so good around me, baby.”

“Can you move, Toji?” You have to ask him, and he begins to thrust. His movements start off slow, but they’re enough to leave you breathless.

Toji is utterly in love with the sight in front of him, something which confirms his earlier thoughts. Everything you do drives him insane, even when you’re just mindlessly moaning in his bed– In your defense, you’re doing a little bit more than that. He’s groaning with the way that your pussy wraps around his cock. No matter how many times he fucks you, he’ll never get bored of the feeling.

Two of his fingers go into your mouth, reaching far back and making you gag. He reprimands you, “I told you not to be too loud.”

His other hand goes to play with your clit, and he senses just how good that makes you feel. It’s a good thing his fingers stop you from being too loud, he doesn’t need a brat coming in and ruining his fun. Though he does say, “You want me to make you a mama?”

Your eyes go wide but you clench around him, which is all the answer he needs. “I’ll give you one of your own, baby. Don’t you wanna have my baby?”

You shut your eyes, and hum in response to his question. You should not be even more turned on by his proposal. Megumi is more than enough right at this moment, but just the thought of having his baby drives you wild.

“I’ll give you your own, baby. I’ll get you pregnant.” Toji watches as pleasure consumes you and you reach your climax. He takes his fingers out of your mouth, grabbing your hand and putting it in place of his fingers.

He picks up more speed, the idea of knocking you up driving him insane as well. He’s been thinking about it all night, you’d just make the sweetest mother to his kids. It’s not just sex talk, Toji is dead serious about this.

“Gonna come inside, okay? I’m gonna fill you up.” He tells you as his movements become sloppy. You’re frantically nodding, nearly coming again at the mere thought of him stuffing you with his cum.

He groans, throwing his head back as he cums inside of you. When he pulls out, Toji lays down next to you. With heavy breathing, two fingers go down to your cunt, pushing his cum back into you.

“You’re actually serious?” You ask him, and he hums in response. You grab his hand and bring his fingers to your lips, rolling your tongue around them. A string of saliva connects your lips with his fingers when you pull them out of your mouth. You proceed to kiss his lips before telling him, “That won’t help.”

“Doesn’t hurt to try.” He responds, and you chuckle.

“What came over you, anyway?” You question, and a smirk comes to his lips. He shakes his head, refusing to tell you.

He won’t let you know that seeing how great you are with kids, specifically with Megumi, makes him want to get you pregnant.

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wttcsms · 3 months ago

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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ adore me, mark your territory !!

ᝰ.ᐟ after having to endure locker room conversation since his blue lock days all the way up to his pro days, yukimiya realizes that if he wants to show you just how serious he is about his thoughts on his relationship with you, he needs to make his mark on you. ( fem!reader )

pairing kenyu yukimiya x reader word count 3.6k content contains corruption kink/innocence kink, loss of virginity (both you and yukki), first time, creampie, breeding kink, slightly manipulative!yukki, you two attended the same private catholic high school, mentions of purity culture, coercion, very naive reader, talks of marriage, dark(ish) content kinktober masterlist

To love someone is to know them.

You love Kenyu Yukimiya with all your heart; you know his hopes and his dreams, his fears and the tiny voice in his head that serves to either goad or encourage him. The two of you grew up together, attending all the same Catholic private schools up ‘til he went pro fresh out of high school graduation, and you decided to attend a tiny, private all girls university.

You know that he’s kind and funny, much more outgoing and adventurous than you. You know that he can be gentle, and that he chooses to always be gentle with you. You know that he loves you just as much as you love him.

But while distance makes the heart grow fonder, perhaps it’s the distance that has caused this newfound unfamiliarity between the two of you.

“Kenny, I don’t… I don’t understand.” You’re lying down on your painfully small twin-sized mattress in your dorm room. Kenyu’s on top of you, his body hovering over your own. He gives you that familiar, comforting smile of his as he asks you gently (your Kenyu’s always so gentle with you),

“We love each other, don’t we?”

“Of course we do.” You say softly. Your arms are by your side, and you’re playing with the frills on the oversized comforter of your bed. Your whole entire room still screams girl. Yukimiya finds it endearing; he finds everything about you so damn endearing. Your floral quilts, and the stuffed animals he’s won for you from claw machines and unfairly rigged carnival games. Your fluffy comforter, and the way you always love to wear dresses, even when it’s just to attend a lecture.

And your unwavering innocence.

Everyone knows that Catholic private schools aren’t as pristine as the parents of the students like to claim it is, but you’re the only one who remained devout. The only one who genuinely stayed true to the lessons taught. You didn’t drink, you didn’t smoke, you didn’t sneak out. The only parties you attended were birthday parties chaperoned by a trusted adult and held in the early afternoon. You always followed the dress code and never tried to get away with folding the waistband of your school-issued skirt to make it shorter, like some of the other girls did. Hell, Kenyu had to literally ask your father for permission to date you before he asked you out.

And while Kenyu’s always been on his best behavior, it’s not like he’s unaware of the world. He’s not naive like you. And that’s okay. One of you has to know enough to lead the other; Yukimiya’s more than happy that he’s the one taking on that role.

The thing is, Kenyu truly does love you. It’s why he doesn’t rush you, doesn’t try to force you to go further than what you think you’re capable of, than what you think you’re allowed to go. He ignores the hard on he gets every time you two make out, the way your hips sometimes move on their own, grinding against him with no thought to strip out of your clothes and let him finish. You’ve been together since the first year of high school, and now you’re in college, and he’s playing professional soccer, and he loves you, and he still hasn’t even seen your pussy. Honestly, his closest friends tell him he must be a saint.

But the talks in the locker room, the snide comments from his least favorite teammates, the jokes and the teasing and the mocking, condescending tones — gotta protect Yukki’s ears, can’t let him Mr. Private School hear this, as if he’d even know what we’re talking about; damn virgin — all of it is chipping away at his pacifist, mild-mannered demeanor, revealing the feral, greedy egoist that lies underneath.

You had been so excited to hear your beloved boyfriend was flying down to your college town this weekend, just to see you! Your roommate’s out on a holiday with her parents, leaving the dorm room all to yourselves. In your cute mind, this just means more room for the two of you to hang out.

For Yukimiya, it means he has no more obstacles to get in the way of him fucking you for the first time.

“And you know what two people who love each other do, right?” He’s still using the same pacifying, soothing tone he always uses when he’s trying to calm you down. When you skinned your knees and cried from the sting of the alcohol wipes used to clean the cuts, he had used this voice on you. When you cried at the airport because he was leaving the country to meet the team who paid an exorbitant amount to have him on their starting lineup, he had used this voice on you. Right now, you can’t understand why he’s using this voice on you. You’re not hurt; just confused.

“Kenyu, wh-what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about making love, [Name].” One large palm is rubbing up and down the smooth skin of your thigh. The movement causes the thin fabric of your sundress to rise up. Yukimiya’s never touched you down there before. You don’t know why his touch feels so good, but you do understand what he’s talking about now.

“But Kenny—” Your voice is reduced to nothing more than a nervous whisper, almost as if you’re scared someone is listening in. “—we can’t. That’s for married couples.”

Well, if it’s any consolation, Yukimiya’s always planned on marrying you.

He kisses your forehead, his hand never relenting from its position on your thigh. Your dress remains lifted up at an angle on one side. He can see part of your cotton panties; plain and white. If he moves his fingers up a few more centimeters, he could tug at the waistband of them.

“I know, sweetheart. But I’ve been thinking…” His hand travels from up your thigh to rest on your hip. The one side of your dress is now all the way up, and his thumb rests on the thin waistband of your panties, rubbing reassuring circles to get you to remain calm underneath him. “We’ll get married soon, anyway, right? I love you so much that I need an outlet to show you just how much I love you.”

“Married? Soon?” Your eyes widen. You find yourself daydreaming about marrying Yukimiya, starting a family. Yukimiya’s smile stretches wide across his handsome face. His sweet girl, he knew you’d be putty in his hands after he mentioned that.

“Of course.” He kisses you on your lips sweetly, his hand never leaving your hip. “And I want to give you all the love a husband has for his wife. Won’t you let me, [Name]?”

Kenyu’s always been handsome. You have a collection of all his professional photoshoots, and you know that he has a bunch of fangirls from just his looks alone. It’s so unfair of him, really, to give you that imploring look of his. You can’t say no to Yukimiya, and you think you never want to.

And so you do let him.

Kenyu’s quick. With the speed he normally reserves for on the field, Kenyu’s mouth meets your at the same time his other hand grips your neglected hip. Now both of his hands are bunching up the fabric of your dress, pulling the skirt up to reveal your simple, plain panties.

“Mmph.” You moan into the kiss. This is a bit different than what you two normally engage in; somehow, everything feels a lot heavier, headier. You can’t seem to think straight. All you can focus on is chasing after his lips, matching his hungry pace.

The heat radiating off the two of you is enough for Kenyu to separate from you momentarily. The lens of his glasses are fogged up, and he grins at you, satisfied at the progress you’re making, before taking his glasses off and setting them neatly on your nightstand.

And then he’s back to kissing you passionately again. You’re lost in the pleasure of his kisses, unknowingly bucking your hips up, not knowing why your body is craving friction, for some attention, down there. Your hands reach up to grip the front of Kenyu’s shirt, tugging at him, trying to bring him closer. You’re getting desperate, and he finds it so cute.

“Lift your arms up for me, sweetheart.” He mumbles against your lips, and your head’s too hazy for you to properly register his request. He repeats it, still as gentle as ever with you, and this time, you manage to comply.

“Fuck.” You don’t hear Kenyu curse often; he says it’s impolite to do so in front of his girl. He breathes out the word, and you feel shy all of a sudden as his eyes roam over your body. He tossed your dress to the side unceremoniously, and because the dress itself had padding, you decided not to wear a bra. You’re laying on your bed, nothing to protect your modesty besides your cotton panties.

“You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. The only girl I see.” He praises you, and you don’t feel too shy anymore.

“K-Kenyu—” You look up at him, all doe-eyed and sweet. You’re pressing your thighs together, drawing his attention to the plush of your thighs, the way hiding in between your legs is your special place that only Kenyu will be allowed to see, to touch, to taste, to love. “What do we do now?”

He leans down, whispering in your ear in his familiar, kind voice, “Now, you lay down, and let me show you how much I love you.”

You love Kenyu so much, you think it should be impossible for your heart to have so much room for him. You know Kenyu must feel the same way, but never before has his love for you ever felt so overwhelming. Kenyu pries your thighs apart, forcing you to open your legs for him, but you didn’t know showering you in his love meant that he was going to take his fingers and rub against the mound in your underwear.

“W-wait, Kenny!” You yelp, trying to shut your legs, but he’s too big, too strong. He blocks the movement, keeps you nice and spread for him. “I—” You don’t know what to tell him, and you don’t know how to explain why there’s a tiny puddle gathering in the thin fabric of your panties. Sometimes, you feel funny and this starts to happen, usually after a long makeout session with your boyfriend.

“You’re so wet for me, [Name].” He almost sounds in awe, staring down at your covered pussy almost as if in a trance. The pace he’s using is rather slow; he’s content, for now, with just stroking his fingers up and down your covered slit, fascinated with the way he can watch you slowly drench through the cotton. The wet spot only continues to grow; he bets he can get his fingers damp with your arousal soon, and he wouldn’t even have to take your panties off to do so. “Do you always get this wet for me?”

You want to cry, and you can even feel the tears welling up in your eyes. He looks up, instantly stopping his ministrations, his concern written all over his expression. “Hey, hey.” He shushes you, peppering kisses all over your face. He’s not stroking you anymore, but his large hand is cupping your pussy, the heat of his hand encasing your special place. You’re practically throbbing against him, your cunt aching and hungry for his touch. He just has to get you to open up for him, to understand. “There’s nothing wrong with that. You’re supposed to get wet right here for me, you know that?”

You sniffle, unsure if he’s just placating you. “Really?”

“Really.” His smile is so gentle, his tone so soothing and reassuring. He’s back to grazing his knuckles across your cunt, enjoying the way the fabric keeps on getting damper. “It means your body is happy, and it lets me know that you love me as much as I love you.”

His other starts to tug at your waistband, dragging down your panties until he’s pulling them right off. His breath catches in his throat as he looks down and stares at your pussy for the first time. Your folds are glistening, your little clit peeking out at him, begging for him to suck on, to rub against.

“Cute.” He tells you, tracing a finger curiously against your slit, the tip of his index finger so close to entering your clenching, unbreached hole. “I’m going to make you feel really good now, okay, [Name]? Tell me, have you ever played with yourself down here?”

“Wha-?” You’re confused, appropriately so. The boys and girls were separated during sex education, but you remember your teacher drilling it into your heads that under no circumstances should a young girl ever touch herself. You had been confused at the time, confused as to why anyone would ever. You’ve been taught that only your husband should ever touch you right there. But Yukimiya loves you, and he’s going to be your husband, and now you’re starting to think you know why girls may want to touch themselves. You’ve felt this heat in between your thighs before, this mysterious hunger for something, but now you’re feeling it tenfold. You shake your head, too choked up to speak.

“No? Not even like this?” You don’t expect Kenyu to insert his finger. The intrusion is foreign, but not entirely unwelcome. Your walls instinctively clench around his digit, and he has to remind himself to breathe, to remain collected, to take things slow so you can enjoy yourself properly. “You’re clamping down on just one finger.” He breathes out, curling his finger, moving it against your walls. He brushes against a spongy spot inside of you, one that has you jerking up, a shocked, pleasured moan escaping from your parted lips. “That feel good?” He asks, before adding a second finger, both of them bumping against that same sweet spot.

Your legs feel like jelly, and you nod weakly. It does feel good. Too good. So overwhelmingly good that a foreign, euphoric sensation is taking over you. You can’t seem to control your body, and you can’t stop the flow of cute, pleasured mewls flowing from your mouth, and you manage to scream out a warning to Yuki. “S-something is—”

A clear stream of liquid spurts out of you, splashes onto him, soaks your cute comforter.

“Fuck, you’re amazing.” Your walls are too sensitive now, but throughout the whole process, Yukimiya never stops thrusting his fingers in and out of your inexperienced cunt. His eyes are wide, but the gleam in them is sharp, hungry, calculating. “I didn’t even get a chance to mess with your cute little clit. You came just from penetration?” He finally removes his fingers, examining the way your juices are dripping off his digits. “You didn’t just cum, you squirted.”

You turn your head, trying to bury your face in a pillow so he can’t see the embarrassed and debauched expression on your face, but he takes his dry hand and forces you to continue looking up at him.

“That’s a good thing, sweetheart.” He coos, sucking at his fingers obscenely before releasing them from his mouth with a pop!. “It means you’re perfect and all ready for me.”

Kenyu knows that his cock is the first cock you’ve ever seen, and he’ll make damn certain that it’s the only one you’ll be seeing for the rest of your life. There’s no frame of reference for you to use, but you don’t think that men should be so big. When he frees his dick, making a show of squeezing tightly at the base and pumping it, showing off to you, you swallow hard.

He taps the head of his cock against your swollen, needy clit, teasing the both of you. He’s losing all sense of restraint, and even rubbing the underside of his cock against your glistening folds, trying to slick up his cock so it’ll be easier to glide into your soaked cunt, is enough to make him want to cum.

“I’m going to fuck you now, sweetheart.” His voice sounds strained, the gentle tone hanging on by a thread. “We’ll be making love for the first time. Aren’t you excited?”

You nod. Excited and nervous. His cock much larger than his fingers, and maybe he should have prepped you more, but you came so easily. He always knew you were perfect for him. Pleasure is so unknown to you, the tiniest taste of it is enough to take you out. Perfect, perfect, perfect.

He holds your hand and kisses you to distract you from the sting of his cock breaching your virgin cunt. You gasp into the kiss, pain registering in your mind first, but Yukimiya is quick to take your breath away, to swallow up any potential protests that might have come. He keeps on kissing you, his fingers intertwined with your own, and he’s pushing himself as deep as he can go. He only lets up from the kiss the second he’s buried to the hilt, and you greedily swallow up the oxygen you’ve been deprived of.

The feeling of a hard cock inside of you is foreign, but your body clings to his length. Unlike his fingers, with its dexterous ministrations that had you keening and squirting when he brushed them against a special spot, his cock fills you up, stuffs you full. Your cunt is greedily sucking him in, and when he whispers that he’s going to really start moving now, it’s not just one spot that he’s hitting.

You’re not sure what’s happening to your body, but it feels like Yukimiya is wringing out pleasure from you from every angle inside of you.

“Ah, fuck, you feel so good for me, sweetheart. Such a tight pussy, so wet, so warm.” The heat encasing his cock is nothing like he’s ever experienced before. The wet warmth of your pussy is so inviting, so intensely pleasurable, that Kenyu doesn’t think he’ll be able to last. Cumming so soon might be embarrassing, but it’s not. Not when it’s his sweet girl’s pussy that’s begging for his cum.

You wail out his name, your legs reflexively encircling around his waist, locking him in, keeping him close to you as you cum again. This orgasm is practically ripped out from you, your cunt way too sensitive, the repeated battering of his cock drilling into your hole too much for your inexperienced mind and body to handle.

“Kenyu, Kenyu, Kenyu!” When you say his name like that, it makes it hard for him to not immediately bust a load inside of you. Gone is the gentle expression from your boyfriend’s face; in its place is something feral, dark.

When he pulls out, he sees your white cream coating his cock. When he thrusts back in, he hears the lewd squelch of your wet, overstuffed pussy. It’s enough to drive a man insane with lust.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He grunts out, and your head struggles to remain straight, to not loll to the side and let yourself be used. You look up at him, but your eyes are glassy and your mind seems to be in a far away place, so far gone, so fucked out. “We’re going to get married soon. So it’s okay if I get you pregnant right now, right?” His bare cock fucking your virgin pussy raw. He’s going crazy. “I’m gonna fill you up, get you all nice and bred for me. Make you my wife, make you a mommy.”

The domestic daydream makes you tighten up around him, even though your body is too weak to cum again. That’s alright. He’ll just have to cum enough for the both of you.

“Hang onto me, sweetheart.” And you do. Your legs are still wrapped around him, but you weakly raise your arms, holding him close to you. He starts pounding at your pussy, his unrivaled speed and strength turning you into mush. You have to dig your nails into the muscled skin of his back, feeling like you’re on the edge of a cliff, about to crash.

“Fuck, I’m about to put a baby in you, love. My sweet girl, my sweet wife.” He kisses you, messy and sloppy, and he stills. The aggressive thrusts stop, and you realize why.

There’s a new heat entering inside of you; hot spurts of his cum are pouring into you, and he only moves his hips a bit to plug you up further, to make sure none of his seed can trickle out of you.

You’re about to lose consciousness, your brain fried from pleasure and exhaustion. All you do is weakly mumble out his name before the world goes black.

You think if this is what making love is, you love love.

“Holy shit, Yukki.” Isagi gapes at his shirtless teammate.

Yukimiya glances up, about to pull his jersey over his head. “What?”

“What the hell happened to you?”

“Hm?” He asks, before turning to try to examine his back. Across the pale muscles are thin, red scratches, fading slightly from the time it’s been etched onto his skin by your nails. He smiles serenely, his mild-mannered attitude ever present. “Oh, this? My fiancee likes me close to her at all times.”

#kenyu yukimiya x reader #yukimiya x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #kanyu yukimiya x you #yukimiya smut #blue lock smut #bllk smut #bllk scenarios #drabble #one shot #imagine #smut #lemon #kinktober 2024

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pucksandpower · 1 month ago

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Kiss It Better

Charles Leclerc x medical student!Reader

Summary: your boyfriend has a habit of faking injuries in order to receive some tender loving care

Warnings: 18+ content and non-life threatening health issues

You let yourself into the Monaco apartment you share with your boyfriend, dumping your heavy backpack by the door with a sigh. Another long day of classes and clinical rotations. Being a medical student is exhausting.

“Charles? I’m home!” You call out, slipping off your shoes. No response. Frowning slightly, you pad down the hallway toward the living room. “Charles? Are you here?”

That’s when you hear it — a muffled groan coming from the bedroom. Your heart leaps into your throat as you rush over, pushing open the door. There’s Charles lying on the bed, face contorted in apparent agony.

“Charles! Oh my god, what’s wrong?” You hurry to his side, dropping to your knees by the bedside. His eyes are screwed shut, jaw clenched as he lets out another pained groan.

“It hurts,” he grits out between clenched teeth. “So much pain ...”

“What hurts? Where does it hurt?” Your mind is racing, trying to diagnose based on his symptoms. Does he have gastritis? Kidney stones? A twisted intestine? You reach for his wrist to check his pulse.

Charles doesn’t answer, just squeezes his eyes shut even tighter and groans loudly. You feel a surge of panic. This could be serious!

“Charles, you have to tell me what’s wrong so I can help you! Where’s the pain?” You grip his arm urgently. “Should I call an ambulance?”

“No … no ambulance,” he manages to choke out, shaking his head minutely. “Just need … you ...”

“Me?” You stare at him in bewilderment. “Charles, I’m just a med student, if you’re really sick we need to get you to a hospital right away!”

He cracks open one eye to look at you piteously. “Please … you’re the only one who can make it better.” His voice is strained as he reaches down to grasp your hand, guiding it lower … lower ...

You suck in a shocked breath as his hand moves yours to cup his crotch over his thin athletic shorts. “Charles! Is that what hurts? Your … special place?”

He lets out a shuddering breath and nods weakly. “Yes … I need you to take care of it. Only you can fix this pain.”

It hits you then — the dramatic groaning, the vague answers, guiding your hand … Charles isn’t sick or injured at all. He’s turned on beyond belief and putting on this whole pained act to get you to help relieve him.

You gape at him, caught between exasperation and reluctant amusement at his antics. “You complete dork! I was so worried something was seriously wrong!”

Charles finally breaks into a sheepish grin, though he’s still palming himself urgently through his shorts with your hand. “What can I say? I’ve been thinking about you all day. Imagining you in those tight little scrubs … bending over examining patients ...” He gives an unconvincing whimper. “The ache has been unbearable, ma chérie.”

You roll your eyes, but can’t fight the smile tugging at your lips or the warmth unfurling low in your belly. Even after all this time, Charles can still make your heart flutter with his flirtatious charm and that roguish smile. You lean in closer until your face is just inches from his.

“Is that so?” You murmur, voice dropping into a sultry register. You give him a lingering stroke through the thin fabric and he draws in a sharp breath. “Well, we can’t have you suffering, can we Mr. Leclerc?”

“Please, no more suffering,” he whimpers unconvincingly, eyes sparkling with mischief now. “You’re the only one who can cure me, Doctor.”

You chuck softly at his overacting and lean down to kiss him, long and deep. Charles moans into your mouth, hands coming up to tangle in your hair as the kiss turns hungry, passionate. When you finally break apart, you’re both panting harshly.

“Well then, I better take a look and get you … taken care of,” you murmur, slowly inching his shorts down over his straining erection. His hips rut up shamelessly as you wrap a hand around his hot, silky length.

“Oh god … yes ...” Charles groans, head tipping back against the pillows as you start to stroke him firmly. His eyes slip shut again and his breath comes in harsh pants as you steadily work him over. You drink in the sight of him like this — cheeks flushed, lips parted, utterly lost in the pleasure you’re giving him.

“Tell me if it still hurts,” you tease lightly, swiping your thumb over the slick head in a way that makes his body jerk. “We have to take care of all your aches and pains.”

“It hurts so good, mon ange,” he gasps out, hips rocking shamelessly up into your fist now. “Don’t stop … please don’t stop ...”

You lean down to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along the taut cords of his neck, relishing the whimpers and moans you pull from him. Charles always loves a bit of teasing during sex. You torture him sweetly by licking and sucking at the sensitive spots that drive him wild even as your hand continues to steadily pump his length.

“You like that, don’t you baby?” You tease against his skin as he writhes beneath you, mewling and chanting your name. “Can’t get enough of your girlfriend playing doctor for you.”

“Yes, oh god yes,” he gasps, hands fisting tightly in the sheets as his hips stutter. You can see his abdomen tensing, muscles clenching as he nears the edge. “I’m so close … I’m going to-”

You silence him with a searing kiss, swallowing his cries as you jerk him firmly through his climax. Charles bucks and shudders, body pulled taut as a bowstring for long moments until he finally slumps back against the mattress with a ragged groan. There’s a sticky mess between your bodies but neither of you care in the least.

“Better now?” You tease lightly, gently stroking the sweaty curls from his forehead. He blinks up at you looking utterly blissed out and sated.

“I’ll say,” he rumbles throatily, pulling you down for another lingering kiss. “My own sexy doctor, taking such good care of me.”

You grin at his playful tone, happiness blooming in your chest. You’re so lucky to have this man in your life — this kind, generous, funny, impossibly charming man who somehow loves you just as much as you love him. What did you ever do to deserve someone like Charles Leclerc?

He seems to read your thoughts in your eyes and smiles softly. “I love you, do you know that? So much.”

Your breath catches and you lean down to rest your forehead against his. “I love you too, you big goof. Even when you pull crazy stunts like this to get my attention.”

Charles chuckles unrepentantly, cupping the back of your neck to hold you close. “What can I say, ma belle? I’m skilled at getting what I want.”

His eyes are shining with quiet devotion and you know, without a doubt, that underneath the teasing bravado Charles truly means those words. He loves you, wholly and completely. A swell of emotion rises in your throat.

“Yeah, well, lucky for you I don’t mind playing doctor,” you murmur, leaning in to kiss him again. Charles’ arms come around you, holding you flush against his body as the kiss turns heated once more. You’re breathless when you part again.

“If I get sick, will you put on that naughty little doctor’s outfit for me?” He waggles his eyebrows at you comically.

You laugh out loud, swatting his arm in mock chastisement. “You’ll be lucky if I don’t send you to a real hospital and leave you to the not-so-tender mercies of Nurse Helga.”

“No need for jealousy, mon amour,” he croons, rolling you onto your back and hovering over you. There’s a wicked glint in his eyes as he leans down to nuzzle your neck, making you shiver. “You’ll always be my favorite caregiver.”

And with that, he shows you just how much he appreciates your caregiving in a very thorough, very passionate way …

***

A few weeks later, you’re settled on the plush couch in Charles’ motorhome, legs tucked up under you as you watch replays of the post-race interviews on the large TV screen. Your heart swells with pride as your boyfriend appears, beaming and sweaty in his race suit as he answers questions about his thrilling come-from-behind victory today.

“It feels incredible to get this win,” Charles is saying, running a hand through his tousled hair. “The team worked so hard and we’ve had some tough races recently, so to finally get back on the top step is amazing.”

You can’t help but grin at his obvious elation. Few people know just how driven and dedicated Charles is — how much time and effort he pours into racing at the absolute highest level. Seeing that hard work and sacrifice pay off never fails to fill you with joy.

“I just want to thank the team again for all their-” Charles breaks off, wrinkling his nose and reaching up to dab at his lip with a finger. When his fingertips come away smeared with red, you frown in concern. Is he hurt?

“Ooh, looks like I bit my lip out there,” Charles says with a rueful chuckle, still prodding gingerly at his mouth as a thin trickle of blood runs over his chin. “Must have been clenching my teeth a little too hard battling for position.”

“I didn’t realize you were injured!” You start to rise from the couch with worry etched on your face, moving towards your now off-screen boyfriend. “Here, let me take a look ...”

“No, no, it’s just a little cut.” Charles tries to wave you off, smiling reassuringly even as he winces again, dabbing at the fresh flow of blood. “No need to fuss, mon cœur. Just a tiny thing.”

You hesitate, hands on your hips as you scrutinize him skeptically. Charles has a bit of a flair for the dramatic at times, always playing up little hurts or mishaps as if he were holding vigil at his deathbed. But you know from experience that he tends to downplay any actual significant injuries.

He senses your continued concern and lets out a theatrical moan, tipping his head back dramatically. “Oh, the AGONY! So much pain … so much … if only there was a way to make it stop ...”

Your eyebrows shoot up as realization hits. Oh, you know that tone. And the coquettish look he’s giving you from under his lashes, lower lip caught between his teeth … yes, you definitely recognize those signs. You shake your head slowly, fighting a grin.

“Seriously, Charles? Not this again.”

“Non, I fear it’s no use,” he groans pitifully, draping a hand over his eyes. “My poor, mangled mouth … so damaged and bloody … the pain is becoming … unbearable ...” Charles pauses to peek at you from between his splayed fingers, eyes twinkling mischievously.

You put your hands on your hips and arch one eyebrow at his antics. “Uh huh. Is this the part where I’m supposed to swoop in all concerned and give you a bunch of sympathy kisses to make your agony all better?”

“If you insist,” he quips, pursing his lips in an exaggerated pout. The effect is somewhat ruined by the fresh smear of crimson at the corner of his mouth.

You can’t help but laugh softly as you move closer, cupping his stubbly jaw in your palms. “For someone so good with their mouth, you’re just a giant wimp, you know that?”

“Maybe,” Charles allows with a roguish grin. “But you love me for it, no?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” You trace your thumb lightly over the plump curve of his lower lip, wiping a smear of blood. “Now hold still, I guess I better give you a little tender loving care for that gaping wound.”

“Oh please, doctor! I need your magical healing touch, I’m in so much — mmph!”

You cut off his theatrical plea with a firm press of your lips, kissing him hard and insistent. Charles moans into your mouth, the sound sending a shiver down your spine even as his hands come up to grip your hips and pull you flush against him.

The coppery tang of blood mingles on your tongues as the kiss turns heated, deep and wet and dizzying. You suck lightly on his split lip, gentling when he winces, and Charles rewards you by dragging blunt nails over the sensitive skin at the small of your back.

When you finally part, you’re both panting harshly, staring at each other with heavy-lidded eyes. Charles’ pupils are blown wide, lips red and slick.

“Better?” You murmur, voice low and throaty.

He gives a slight shake of his head, tendrils of curls falling over his forehead. “No … I need more treatment, I fear. The pain … it still lingers ...”

You chuckle at his dramatics, hands sliding up to tangle in his hair as you tug him back in for another searing kiss. Charles releases a noise that’s almost a growl against your lips, big hands cupping your backside and grinding you firmly against him.

You can feel him, hot and hard already as he ruts shamelessly against you. The desperate urgency of his movements thrills you, sends sparks of arousal zinging through your veins. Charles always gets so worked up so quickly when you two play these little games.

This time it’s you who pulls back first, sucking in a shaky breath. His eyes are blazing, swollen lips parted invitingly. You deliberately rake your gaze over his disheveled appearance — the tousled curls, the swipe of crimson over his mouth, the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

“Mr. Leclerc, are you quite sure your … condition requires such aggressive treatment?” You try for a clinical tone but it comes out more of a lustful purr. Charles’ nostrils flare and his fingers tighten convulsively against the curves of your ass.

“Yes, yes, it absolutely does,” he rasps out urgently, already trying to pull you back in. “Please, you must heal me ...”

He captures your lips again in a fierce, demanding kiss and you melt into him with a soft moan. His clever tongue is doing wicked things, slick and hot as it slides against yours in a sensual mimicry of what’s surely to come.

A teasing nip to his swollen lower lip makes Charles gasp and jerk against you. Taking shameless advantage, you swiftly divest him of his sweat-damp race suit until he’s bare from the waist up. Muscles rippling beneath tawny skin, his toned chest and abdomen shiny from his hours in the cockpit.

It’s a deliciously debauched look that makes arousal curl hotly in your belly. You drag your lips in open-mouthed kisses along the sharp line of his jaw, down the strong column of his throat as he tips his head back with a groan.

“There … is that helping with your … condition, Mr. Leclerc?” You tongue at the hollow of his collarbone, tasting salt and musk as your hands skim over his chest in teasing caresses.

“Ohh god, yes … but I need more ...” He’s panting harshly now, muscles jumping as you rake sharp nails over one reddened nipple. “Please … more ...”

“Good. Then you’d better hold still for me to examine the problem area more thoroughly.” Before Charles can blink, you’ve shoved him back to sprawl gracelessly against the soft leather couch. He stares up at you with heavy-lidded eyes, lips parted enticingly as his chest heaves.

You drink in the sight for a long moment, satisfaction curling in your belly. Sometimes it’s nice to be the one calling the shots, to see Charles squirming and flushed and desperate beneath you for a change.

Slowly — torturously — you strip out of your own clothes until you’re equally bare. Charles tracks your every movement with burning eyes. When you sink down to straddle his hips, both of you groan at the scorching friction as bare skin meets bare skin.

“God, you’re exquisite,” he husks out reverently, hands trailing up the dips and curves of your body with something like awe. “An absolute goddess ...”

You can’t resist leaning down to capture his mouth in another heated, messy kiss as you grind down shamelessly against his rigid length. Charles muffles a hoarse cry into your lips, hips jerking up to meet your movements.

You let the kiss turn sloppy and wet and deep, both of you luxuriating in the hot slide of tongues and the delicious glide of bare skin. Charles’ hands roam greedily over your body, squeezing and caressing as you rock together in a sensual push and pull.

“Please … I need you ...” he growls against your lips when you momentarily break apart. His voice is wrecked, eyes dark with lust. “Need to be inside you … now ...”

You shudder at his heated words, arousal a molten ache between your thighs. Reaching down, you grasp his rigid length and line him up with your slick entrance. Charles sucks in a sharp breath, muscles going taut beneath you as the swollen head catches on your folds.

“Like this?” You breathe, swiveling your hips in a teasing grind that has him throwing his head back with a guttural groan.

“Yes! Putain, just like that ...” He bucks up helplessly, trying to force you to sink down onto him, but you resist with a low chuckle.

“Patience, Mr. Leclerc. Don’t you want me to take care of your … condition properly?” You murmur, lips brushing the shell of his ear. You punctuate the words with another maddeningly slow roll of your hips and Charles legitimately whimpers.

“Yes, yes … anything! I’ll do anything, just please ...” His eyes are wild, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs hard enough to leave marks. “I need you so badly, ma chérie ...”

Smiling, you finally take pity and sink down in one smooth glide until he’s sheathed to the hilt. The sensation of being utterly filled, stretched and burning in the most delicious way, makes you throw your head back with a long moan. Beneath you, Charles lets out a broken litany of French and English and Italian curses as his hips pump up in short, jerky thrusts.

You set a driving pace, lifting and dropping in a dizzying rhythm as Charles matches you stroke for stroke. The room is soon filled with the lewd sounds of slick flesh and harsh breathing, punctuated by grateful whines and moans. You lean down to capture his mouth again, the angle shifting to let him plunge even deeper until you’re both trembling on the razor’s edge.

“You feel so good, so incredible,” Charles pants harshly against your lips between sloppy kisses. He grips your hips hard enough to bruise, using the leverage to somehow take you even faster and harder. The pace is almost punishing but you can’t get enough. “Always so tight … so perfect for me ...”

His praise and the delicious drag of his thick length have you quickly spiraling higher. You brace your hands on his heaving chest as you throw your head back, overcome. Every nerve in your body feels electrified, set alight from the inside by the sheer intensity of your joining.

“Oh god … Charles, I’m gonna-” You cry out sharply as he aims for that one angle that has stars bursting behind your eyes. He latches onto your exposed throat, sucking a stinging mark as his thumb finds your pearl and begins rubbing merciless circles.

That’s all it takes to send you shattering apart with a keen, clenching down with bruising force as your climax rips through you. Charles pounds up twice more, teeth sinking into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, before following you over the edge with a guttural roar. His hips stutter erratically as he empties himself in hot pulses that you can actually feel hitting deep.

You both gradually come down, slumping gracelessly together as your harsh breathing slowly evens out. Charles carefully rolls until you’re cradled against his sweat-slicked chest, nuzzling languidly at your temple. His palms stroke up and down your spine in a gesture that’s somehow both possessive and worshipful.

After a few minutes, you let out a breathless giggle that has him pulling back slightly to look at you quizzically.

“What’s so funny?” His voice is gravelly and well-fucked.

You tap the wound on his lip lightly, tsking in playful reproach. “I’ll say this — you certainly know how to get my attention when you’re … ailing. I think you milked that little injury for all it was worth.”

Charles doesn’t even have the grace to look sheepish. He breaks into a slow, self-satisfied grin and shrugs unapologetically. “What can I say? Worked, didn’t it?”

You roll your eyes but can’t fight your own matching smile as you lean in to kiss him softly, carefully avoiding his split lip. When you pull back, you brush back the tendrils of hair from his forehead with a tenderness that makes his eyes go warm and molten.

“You’re ridiculous, Charles Leclerc. Completely ridiculous … but I love you.”

His smile somehow grows even more blinding. “I love you too, mon ange. And I always will.”

His sincerity washes over you in a wave. You know without a doubt that despite his antics, his words ring completely true. This funny, passionate, caring, magnificent man truly does love you with every fiber of his being. And you love him just the same.

Maybe you’ll both drive each other crazy for the rest of your lives … but at least you’ll never be bored. Settling back against his chest, you let your eyes drift shut contentedly. Yes, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be than right here in Charles’ arms.

***

A few months later, you’re woken abruptly in the dead of night by the sounds of muffled groaning coming from beside you. At first you think it must just be a dream, but then Charles lets out a pained whimper and your eyes fly open.

“Charles?” You blink groggily and prop yourself up on one elbow to peer at him in the dim light filtering through the curtains. “Hey, are you okay?”

He’s curled into a tight ball on his side, arms wrapped around his midsection as if cradling his stomach. A sheen of sweat glistens on his brow and his face is pinched in an unmistakable expression of agony.

Alarm spikes through you and you quickly reach over to grasp his shoulder, giving him a gentle shake. “Charles? Baby, what’s wrong?”

Charles just groans again, a low wounded sound that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. He’s trembling finely against you, teeth clenched and eyes screwed shut against the obvious wave of pain rippling through him.

“Talk to me,” you urge, trying to keep the rising panic from your voice. “Where does it hurt? Should I call an ambulance?”

For a long moment he seems incapable of speech, muscles going rigid and a harsh gasp tearing from his lips. You watch helplessly as he rides out the spasm, cold dread coiling in the pit of your stomach. This is bad … this doesn’t seem like one of his pranks or games to get attention. Charles looks to be in genuine, serious distress.

“Charles?” You try again once he’s relaxed slightly, dragging in shallow panting breaths through his nose. His eyes slit open to mere glassy slits, unfocused and hazy with pain.

“M’stomach ...” he finally gets out through gritted teeth, voice thin and strained. “It hurts so bad … like I’m being stabbed ...”

Your own abdomen clenches reflexively at the words as your brain kicks into high gear. Severe, stabbing abdominal pain that seems to be localized in one area and radiating out … it could potentially be appendicitis. That would definitely explain the excruciating nature of Charles’ discomfort, as well as why he’s curled in the fetal position. Appendicitis is considered a medical emergency — a ruptured appendix can lead to a life-threatening infection if left untreated.

“Okay, we need to get you to a hospital now.” You scramble out of bed and quickly throw on some clothes, grabbing your keys and phone. “I’m calling for an ambulance to come get you. Just stay still and try to breathe evenly.”

Charles doesn’t argue or even crack one of his customary smirks or jokes, just nods weakly and tries to pull himself into an even tighter ball. It’s frightening, seeing the normally confident and charismatic man so thoroughly debilitated by the waves of torment rolling through him.

The emergency dispatcher responds promptly and assures you that an ambulance is being dispatched to your address straight away. You quickly relay the situation to them — the acute pain, localized in the lower right quadrant of the abdomen, along with the nausea, fever, and Charles’ otherwise good health. They seem to share your suspicion of appendicitis and promise to give you further instruction once the paramedics arrive.

In the meantime, you hurry back to Charles’ side and try to keep him as comfortable as possible. You gingerly help him out of bed inch by agonizing inch, grimacing at the stifled cries he can’t quite bite back. It’s slow going, but eventually you have him propped up against the pillows and headboard in a semi-upright position that seems to ease his suffering slightly. You grab a cool damp washcloth and gently sponge the beads of sweat from his ashen face, murmuring soothing nonsense as he pants through another visible spasm.

“You’re alright, just keep breathing,” you coach him. “In and out, nice and slowly … the ambulance will be here any minute now.”

“Hurts so much ...” he whimpers, looking utterly pitiful and nothing like the cocky, self-assured star athlete he normally is. It nearly breaks your heart to see.

“I know, I know ...” You stroke his sweat-dampened curls back off his forehead. “And I’m sorry, but please no joking right now, okay? I want to stay focused in case … in case this is really serious. Like, potentially life-threatening serious.”

A ghost of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, there and gone in a flash. “Trust me … m’not … feeling cheeky right now.”

You press a feather-light kiss to his clammy forehead, relieved that he seems to understand the gravity of the situation. “I didn’t think you were. Just hang in there for me, okay?”

Ten long, agonizing minutes later, you finally hear sirens blaring outside. The paramedics move swiftly once you let them in, whisking Charles onto a gurney and starting an IV line. They pepper both of you with rapid-fire questions as they assess him, all while carefully not jostling his abdomen too much to avoid exacerbating the pain.

All too soon, though, it’s time for them to whisk him away to the hospital. You trail after them anxiously, only pulling up short when Charles suddenly grasps your hand like a lifeline.

“Wait … wait!” His eyes are still hooded with pain but there’s fierce urgency there too. “Kiss me one more time? Before they take me in?”

Your heart clenches in your chest at the pleading in his tone. Brushing your thumb soothingly over his cheekbone, you lean down and press the sweetest, gentlest kiss to his parted lips. Charles sighs and seems to melt into you for a moment before the gurney is jostled and he grunts in agony again.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be right behind you,” you promise softly. “We’ll get you all taken care of.”

He nods weakly and blows out a harsh breath as the paramedics start wheeling him back towards the elevator. You let his hand slip from yours reluctantly as you watch him go, then hurry to grab the essentials and follow. The whole way to the hospital your mind whirls with fearful possibilities as you pray that whatever is causing Charles such terrible pain, it isn’t life-threatening.

Hours later, after CT scans and blood tests and evaluations from the E.R. doctors, you finally get confirmation — it is indeed acute appendicitis. Charles is swiftly admitted and prepped for emergency surgery to remove the severely inflamed organ before it ruptures.

You’re pacing anxiously in the pre-op area, wringing your hands, as nurses bustle around him getting the I.V.s ready. In the harsh fluorescent lighting, Charles looks small and pale against the crisp white sheets. But he greets you with a wan smile when you approach his bedside.

“Well … this is certainly not how I thought this day would go,” he quips tiredly, always looking for an opportunity to try and lighten the mood. You snort a quiet laugh despite yourself, allowing your fingers to brush against his arm in a gentle caress.

“Yeah, you and me both. Believe me, I didn’t think the first time I’d ever have to rush you to the emergency room would be for a burst appendix of all things!”

Charles frowns thoughtfully, looking exhausted and drained but mercifully no longer in dire, crippling agony. “Remind me … have I ever pretended to have appendicitis before?”

“No, somehow that particular organ didn’t come up in any of your medical fantasies,” you tease lightly. Then your smile falters as you recall just how horrifically bad it had looked earlier. The memory of Charles stifling those tortured groans, jaw clenched and body wound tighter than a bowstring, has a sobering effect. “But I’m really glad this wasn’t some dumb prank or act this time. You were … it seemed so awful, I was really terrified there for a while.”

His eyes soften and he captures your hand to give it a comforting squeeze. “I know. I’m just sorry I put you through that kind of scare with all my previous fake bouts of pain to rile you up.” Charles grimaces ruefully. “Not my finest habit, in retrospect.”

“Well, we can discuss suitable penance for all that later.” You try for a playful wink though it falls a bit flat against your lingering nerves.

Just then a nurse bustles over, all brisk efficiency as she prepares to wheel Charles back to surgery. “Alright Mr. Leclerc, we’re going to take you back now. The anesthesiologist is ready.”

You squeeze Charles’ hand one more time before leaning down to press a soft kiss to his forehead. “I’ll be right here when you wake up, okay?”

He nods bravely even as the nurse starts pushing the bed toward the operating room doors. “See you soon, mon amour. Try not to worry too much.”

“Me? Worry?” You force a small smile, desperately attempting to keep things light despite the knot of tension in your gut. “When do I ever do that?”

Charles chuckles weakly before disappearing through the swinging double doors. You stand there for a long moment staring at the entryway, running your hands through your hair agitatedly. This entire situation is your worst nightmare — your loved one being wheeled into surgery, their life quite literally in someone else’s hands.

Blowing out a shaky breath, you turn to find a place to wait during the procedure. It’s going to be a tense few hours, that’s for sure. You just have to trust that the doctors and nurses will do everything in their power to get Charles through this safely.

Several agonizing hours later, a surgeon in scrubs finally appears to fetch you from the waiting room with an update. Your heart leaps into your throat but the man is smiling, so it can’t be too terrible, right?

“Ms. Y/N? I’m Dr. Beaumont, I operated on Mr. Leclerc. I’m pleased to report that the surgery was a complete success. We were able to remove his inflamed appendix without any complications before it could rupture.”

You nearly collapse with relief, legs going watery. “Oh, thank god! He’s okay then?”

“He’s doing very well, all things considered,” Dr. Beaumont confirms with a nod. “Of course, we’ll need to keep him here for a few days to monitor for any signs of infection or complications from the anesthesia. But barring any unforeseen issues, I expect him to make a full recovery within a couple weeks.”

“That’s … oh, that’s wonderful news. Thank you, Doctor. Truly.” The words are woefully inadequate but you hope he can hear the depth of gratitude behind them.

A few minutes later, you’re settled into a chair at Charles’ bedside in the recovery ward. He’s still unconscious, face lax and peaceful in drugged sleep as the anesthesia slowly wears off. His chest rises and falls evenly with each reassuring breath. You reach out to gently brush some wayward curls from his forehead, relief crashing over you in waves.

It’s only been a few hours, but it already feels like a lifetime ago that Charles was writhing and groaning in unspeakable agony. To see him now, resting comfortably with the threat neutralized, it’s almost surreal.

You lean forward to press a feather-light kiss to his forehead, breathing in the familiar, grounding scent of him. “You really gave me a scare today, Leclerc,” you murmur against his skin. “But I’m so thankful you’re okay.”

His eyelids flutter slightly, lashes brushing high cheekbones as he starts to slowly swim back toward consciousness. You sit back and simply watch, letting the tension finally drain from your shoulders as he gradually blinks awake.

“Hey there, champ,” you say softly when his eyes find yours, still looking a bit dazed and glassy. “How are you feeling?”

Charles considers this for a moment, taking stock. “Floaty … but not too much pain anymore.” His tongue darts out to wet dry lips. “Did they ...”

“Yeah, they took out your appendix,” you say, unable to stop the relieved smile that curves your mouth. “Surgery went perfectly, and the doctor says you’re going to be just fine.”

He returns the smile, looking exhausted but still radiant with that dimpled grin you love so much. “Well … maybe there is an upside then.”

You tilt your head quizzically. “An upside to your burst appendix nearly killing you?”

“Of course.” Charles releases a tired chuckle, leaning back against the pillows. His gaze grows impish despite his pallor. “At least now I’ll save some weight in the car, no?”

You stare at him for one long beat of silence … before bursting into somewhat hysterical laughter, tears of sheer relief and exasperation pricking the corners of your eyes. Trust Charles to find the humor even in the most dire, frightening circumstances.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” You roll your eyes fondly as your giggles taper off, leaning forward to take his hand and squeeze tightly. “Honestly Charles, what am I going to do with you?”

His expression grows impossibly tender as he squeezes back just as firmly. “Just keep loving me, ma chérie. No matter how many stupid jokes I make or stunts I pull to get your attention.”

You hold his gaze for a long moment, letting the warmth and sincerity of his words wash over you. Despite his recent trauma, you can see the pure devotion shining in his eyes. How could you ever want anything else?

“Always,” you whisper, fiercely meaning it with every fiber of your being. “I’ll always love you, Charles Leclerc. No matter what.”

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