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saetoru · 1 year ago

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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。yours, always yours

synopsis. satoru has always been yours—and he needs you to know you’ll also always be his

— word count. 2.4k (read the breakup fic first for better understanding, but can be read as a stand-alone)

— contents. fem! reader, college! au, rich boy! gojo, post-getting back together angst that gets a little heated <3, minors do not interact, fingering, unprotected sex, edging, satoru cumming too quick <3, creampie, tbh the smut is short and a lil rushed my b, it ends in fluff tho !! trust !! there is fluff !!

— notes. tbh this will probably get flagged rly fast but oh well u win some u lose some. anywayyyyy here is the make up sex bc yall nasties deserve it <3 jk love u guys

satoru falls first. and he falls hard. everyone knows it, it’s never been a secret.

“you want me to wash your hair?” you ask gently, kissing his shoulder as the water falls over his head. he hums, nodding absentmindedly as he stares blankly at the tiles of your shower wall.

“sure,” he mumbles, “don’t tug.”

“i never tug,” you roll your eyes, snorting. he huffs a small chuckle, but it’s not the usual laugh satoru gives you. it’s mechanic, almost—just there to fill the space. “baby?” you ask softly.

“yeah?” he asks, “oh, should i bend a little? sorry, i—”

“what’re you thinking about?” your hands cup his cheeks, gentle and warm from the hot water as it soaks his skin.

he shakes his head, trying to smile as he clears throat. “just how nice it is to be pampered. maybe i’ll let you break my heart every once in a while so i get my back scrubbed and hair washed like this.”

“satoru,” you insist. you know—and he knows it too. “tell me?”

“why’d you do it?” he mumbles, “why’d you listen to him?”

“toru, you know why,” you sigh, “you know i didn’t think there were any other options.”

“you could’ve talked to me,” he furrows his brows, “just because my stupid old man threatens you with my stupid inheritance doesn’t mean we have to break up.”

“i was afraid you’d choose me.” it comes out as a whisper, like a confession you can’t bear to admit.

“i would have chosen you,” he agrees, “why’s that bad? how’s that wrong—”

“you’re not thinking about the bigger picture,” you shake your head, “that company is yours. you’ve spent your whole life—”

“so what? was i supposed to give up the rest of my life for it too?” he asks tiredly—satoru’s defeated. he’s never been defeated, it’s the most magnetizing thing about him.

even before you date him. he asks and asks and asks no matter how many times you say no. because there’s always a chance you’ll say yes, and he’ll never stop as long as there’s a chance.

“i’m sorry,” you sniffle, lips wobbling, “i could have….i should have said something. i didn’t want you to make a choice young and then….and then regret it.”

“you think i’d regret you?” he’s wounded—absolutely wounded at the words.

satoru has always been careful, diligent and so, so meticulous to love you right, to love you how you need to be loved. hadn’t that proven enough? that he was in it for the long run—for forever? he’d been so sure you’d be his future, that the break up feels like waking up from a peaceful dream to a house fire—devastating, with smoke in his nose and lungs that he can’t breathe right, and everything gone within a moment before he can even register it.

he stares at the ashes in despair. nothing prepared him for the hollowness of not being yours—because satoru has never cared to make you his. all he’s ever wanted was to be yours.

you’re quick to remove him from everything, deleting pictures from your socials, untagging him from posts, removing him from your private stories and close friends list. he doesn’t understand how you could change your mind so quickly—and then he realizes you probably don’t. because he knows you—better than anyone ever has, satoru knows you.

so he’s comes to you, drenched from the rain, from standing outside your door even as the water pelts against his skin because he’s determined. he’s going to get an answer out of you, going to make you explain why you pulled him in so close, let him reside in your heart and fall asleep to the comforting rhythm of its beating—and then push him out like he’s nothing. what made you push him out?

and finally, when he does, when you let him be yours again and admit it’s never what you wanted, that it’s because it’s what his father wanted—well, satoru can’t keep his composure. don’t you know? hadn’t he always told you? hadn’t he poured his heart out and let you know every moment he’s always been stuck dangling from his father’s fingers? stuck somewhere between the sky and ground, too high to feel the floor under his feet but never high enough to feel the wind in his face.

you’ve always known, always listened—and fuck, you held him some nights too, let your fingers dip into his hair and soothe his sorrows of always being stuck.

satoru’s always been stuck, always had every choice made for him and every instruction carefully laid out on the table. and then you decided to make his choice for him too, walking away and choosing his future for him like he’s never had a say.

he’s always been stuck, but never with you—but now, he wonders if that’s changed.

“no,” you squeeze his cheeks, “no i don’t think you’d regret me….but satoru losing what you have is a big thing,” you mumble, “people work their whole lives not having a fraction of what you do. that’s a lot to let you lose.”

“i’ve never seen my dad kiss my mom,” he stares at you, hard and unwavering, his eyes stare into yours, “he’s never held her hand or made her laugh. and you know what she told me? that she would sell her share of everything to have what we do. why do you always look at me for what i have first?” he asks angrily, the water pouring over his shoulders as they shake, “why can’t you just look at me first for once?”

“i do look at you,” you insist, “toru, all i ever see is you—”

“then stop caring what he says,” he says louder, his voice echoing through the small bathroom of your small apartment.

everything about your home is small—smaller than satoru’s especially. but he loves it, thinks he’d rather be here than anywhere else.

because it’s yours. and as long as you’re here, the world fits into this tiny apartment, the galaxy too.

“okay,” you say shakily. and then you nod, looking him in the eye, “you’ll handle it?”

he nods, kissing between your brows, “yeah, i’ll handle it. who else is gonna take over that company anyway?”

“but what if he finds someone else? and then he—”

“he won’t. my grandpa will shred him.”

“but he’s old, and he stepped down, so what really can he do if your dad decides—”

“god, baby,” he groans, pushing your body against the wall gently, “i love your voice, but you talk so much. i’m wanna listen to something else.”

his lips find your neck, sucking gently at the skin, hand trailing to your tits before his thumb circles your nipple. it’s slow, deliberate, teasing as it rolls over the bud.

you whimper, clutching onto him as a breathy, “t-toru,” leaves your lips.

“yeah,” he nods, “that’s what i wanna listen to instead.” his lips are in a grin against your neck, kissing and biting until he reaches your collarbone. “anyone dm you after you took me out of your socials?” he asks bitterly.

“j-just one,” you admit through a stutter, “b-but i didn’t even open it! i wasn’t really—oh, toru,” you gasp as his finger finds your clit, spreading your legs as he lets out a soft growl at your words.

“what? just cause my face isn’t on your instagram suddenly you’re not mine?” he asks, thumb rubbing harsh circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves—you close your eyes, moaning as your arms wrap tightly around his neck. “you’re always mine,” he murmurs against your ear, low and careful so you hear him well, “yeah? got that?”

“got it,” you nod furiously.

“got what?”

“‘m al-always—oh, fuck,” you mewl as one finger prods at your entrance, gathering your slick before slowly sliding through your walls.

“c’mon, sweetheart,” he says firmly, “finish your sentences.”

“always yours, toru! always yours—please, please j-just…”

“just what?” he raises a brow.

“more,” you sob—it’s a broken plea as your hips thrust against his finger.

he’s quick to slide in a second, thrusting his digits mercilessly into your soaked cunt, his palm gliding over your clit as the slick sound of his fingers fucking you is almost drowned by the water in the back.

your water bill will be high this month. you decide it’s a sacrifice satoru deserves.

“you think someone could ever learn this body better than me? make you cum like i can? you think anyone will ever love you enough to learn you like i do?”

“n-no,” you pant, his fingers hitting that spot inside of you so perfectly, you feel that dull ache build up quickly. it’s good—everything with satoru is good. his other hand finds your chest to pinch a nipple, twisting and squeezing until your nails leave indents on his shoulders as you moan loudly. “no one—no one but you.”

“exactly,” he growls, “how could you leave me? how could you leave us?”

“‘m sorry,” you sniffle, whimpering when the tips of his fingers slam against that spongey spot of your walls, fluttering around him and squeezing him in. you’re close—so close that you almost don’t know what he’s saying anymore, too focused on the way your impending orgasm is approaching. fast. “i’m sorry, i’ll never—ever leave again.”

“say you love me,” he demands.

it sounds like he’s pleading, though, if you listen closely. there’s a small crack in his voice, a slight shakiness that makes you force your eyes open and stare at him and whisper, “i love you, satoru. i love you.”

and then he rips his fingers out—right before you’re about to cum. you gasp, pleading nonsense as you cling to him and buck your hips and search for something, anything to take you over the edge.

and then you hear a sniffle. is he crying? is that wet droplet on your shoulder a tear or the water? you’re too busy calming down from your orgasm dying before it ever came to focus.

satoru’s hard against your thigh, throbbing and painful to sink into you. he strokes himself a few times, whimpers as his thumb gathers the pre cum from the sensitive tip, smearing it along his length as he shakily lets out a quiet moan.

“f-fuck, i gotta feel you. please, can i? please—”

“yes,” you pull him closer, grinding your heat over his hard-on, “yes please, toru. more, need more.”

he’s sliding along your folds, dragging the tip of his cock along your entrance and smearing a mix of your arousal with his. and then slowly, ever so gently, he’s pushing into your after that, pushing past your walls and bullying into your soaked cunt, curving into you perfectly.

it’s only been a week—you feel like you haven’t felt him in years. but it’s familiar. you remember every part of him, including every vein that drags along your walls and makes your head spin. he remembers every part of you, including where that spot is that he needs to angle his hips to find.

he slams into you, hard and rough and fast—doesn’t even let you adjust your position to hold onto him tighter before he’s thrusting his hips and fucking into you desperately. you can feel him, every inch of his skin against you, every part of him that’s touching you. and you can feel the way his cock nudges past your folds, the friction burning pleasure through ever nerve.

satoru knows how to fuck you, just like he knows how to love you, he knows your body—every dip and ever curve, every place to touch and every part that has you gushing around him. it’s just the way he is, too good at giving you what you want, what you need.

when he moans, it’s breathy and he’s panting as he lets out those soft whimpers that make your head spin. “feel that? feel me?” he asks, grunting as you squeeze around his length.

“yeah,” you breathe, “‘m so full.”

“i need you. please, please,” he murmurs, “can’t lose you, baby. never you,” he chants, the quiver in his voice tearing you apart.

“i’m right here,” you gasp, lacing your fingers with his and squeezing his hand. he squeezes back, just to let you know he’s there too, “right here, baby. you got me.”

and then he cums, just as soon as you whisper that—he spills right into you with a broken cry, his hips rolling, needy and desperate and so, so lost on the pleasure. he’s too busy working himself through his high, trembling over your body to care he’s cum too quick—and you don’t have it in you to tease him. you can feel the hot ropes of cum filling you, painting your walls white, fucking deep into you as the blunt head of his cock slams into you without a second of hesitation.

but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t falter that brutal pace as his hips slam into you, perfectly kissing your sweet spot every time. and before long, you break—your head pushes back against the wall behind you, mouth parted as you wail his name and cum—hard. you’re quivering and spasming around his swollen cock, enough that he whimpers at the way you’re so tight.

it’s good, it’s always good. satoru makes you feel good. he’s the best you’ve ever had—the best you’ll ever find.

and then you hear it again, the sniffle into your neck as he clutches you tightly. you know for sure that wet droplet is a tear this time, and your fingers tangle into his hair as you stroke the wet strands.

“i love you, toru,” you murmur, “my sweet boy. i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry.”

“don’t do that again,” he huffs in between tears, “that was so mean. so mean.”

“i said i won’t,” you chuckle, fighting back your own tears, “how long are you gonna hold this against me?”

“how long do you plan on being mine?”

“well,” you pull him from your neck, cupping his cheeks as you wipe away tears and peck his lips softly, “i think….forever.”

“well, get ready, then,” he glares softly, “i’m gonna hold this against you forever too.”

“okay,” you nod, “that’s fair.”

“and i love you too,” he adds, “but block whoever dm’d you. it better not be that zenin boy.”

“block those girls who’s pictures you liked,” you shoot back, glaring at him with a pout of your own.

“don’t yell at me,” he mumbles, leaning into your touch as your thumb strokes his cheek, “i’ve had a rough week. you have to be nice.”

dabitee anon. are u seeing this. did u see the satoru who cums too fast. did u see it. report back if u saw this. i repeat, dabitee anon report back if you see this

#teepods.writings #thirstee!#rich boy! au #fics.#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo smut #gojo angst #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut

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barbiiecams · 5 months ago

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the “first” time

drew starkey x younger!reader, smut, haven’t wrote ina minute yall sorry 😣. i also recommend listening to the song while reading.

you were cuddled up into the side of drew while he had his arm around you, keeping you close to him as you watched the third horror movie tonight.

but little did he know, you were practically soaked down there.

it took a lot of self restraint in you not to squirm around, but you were almost about to start.

the view of him with his blank tank top, grey sweats, a little stubble, a buzzed head and that damn gold chain had you pressing your thighs together for dear life.

it was such a random moment for you to be feeling like this too. he always looked good, that was for sure. him in general had that type of affect on you.

but right now had to have been your peak ovulation or something, because you needed him bad.

you started off with a simple and subtle movement by moving your hand from where it laid on his chest, and slowly down to the top of his abs.

no reaction.

after this, you had to come off a little more bold. you repositioned yourself, pushing your face more upwards into his neck so that plush of your butt would be more into his hand instead of the bottom of your spine.

and still, no reaction.

the only type of movement that came from him was him licking his lips. this did not help your case in the slightest.

it was just throbbing at this point. you wanted him to give it to you so bad, knowing he’d still be a little hesitant.

you and drew had been together for 8 months now, and there were still no real intercourse going on.

of course, drew didn’t mind using his fingers on you, and you didn’t mind using your mouth on him.

but you wanted, no, needed the real thing.

it’s not like you were a virgin either. you’ve had some experience before him.

and still with this knowledge, drew still was convinced you weren’t ready for him.

your core was ready for him at this point, “drew,” you finally spoke up.

“hm” he said in that low, raspy tone of his. *reason number 300 why you needed to be dicked down this instant*

in reality tho, you really did wish he would just take a hint. actually having to say what you wanted was just too… confrontational.

“i’m really like…” you didn’t make eye contact with his eyes. you were trying not to make yourself laugh at how embarrassing it was to actually tell him at the same time.

drew on the other hand was just waiting for you to finish your sentence, confused as ever.

“really what?”

you sighed. “i really, really, really, really need you. like really”

the words were finally out, but not direct. that was the most he was gonna get from you.

the realization hit him and he let out chuckle, “okay.” was all he said before he started kissing you.

but you knew what he was gonna do, and that wasn’t just all that you wanted.

you pulled away gently, “no like i actually need you. i don’t want just the fingers.”

he raised his eyebrows at this, the actual realization hitting him this time.

“a- are you sure baby?” he asked with genuine concern.

“i’m positive. i’ve been wanting it for so long.”

he’s rubbing your thigh with his hand. “i don’t know sweetheart… are you positive you want it?”

you almost started whining. “yess, drew. i’m so very serious.”

you could see that drew was very hesitant just thinking about it, but then also at the same time considering it.

“just so you know, don’t think that we have to do all of that to be together. i love you for you-”

as much as you loved your man right back, you were getting a little fed up. “yes i know babe but i really need to feel you right now.”

he smirked at your bold statement. for the first time in 8 whole months of the relationship, drew finally caved in.

“alright. don’t wanna hear it’s ‘too much’ either.”

you didn’t get the chance to respond because his lips were already on yours, shoving his tongue into your mouth and holding the back of your head.

this is what you’ve been waiting for so desperately. that rough side of his.

he’s laying you down completely on your back, focused on getting your pajama pants and panties off at once.

at the same time, you’re trying to get his shirt off. you were so ready to just take all of him.

you fumbled with his own sweats and boxers while he fumbled with your shirt, eventually resulting in the both of you being completely exposed to each other.

he runs his hands down your body, “shit.”

you felt him getting harder and harder on your leg. you could tell he was starting to feel that throbbing sensation himself when he guided your hand onto his cock and made you run him.

and while you were doing that, his hand moved to your own folds and started rubbing too. you couldn’t help the gasps that came out either.

his mouth moved down to your neck, leaving a bunch of hickies that would be pointless even attempting to cover the next day.

deciding to tease him a little, you started rubbing the tip of his cock, leaving him with his mouth slack and letting out breaths right by your ear.

“you ready for this dick, baby?” he says while moving his hard on from the palm of your hand, to rubbing at your entrance.

“mhm!” you moan out.

that’s all he needed. he clearly was just as needy all this time as you were. not too much foreplay and no multiple asks of confirmation. he just slid right in and bottomed out too.

his face scrunched in pleasure, “so tight baby. so fuckin tight.”

and he was so big. you weren’t unfamiliar with his girthy and lengthy cock, but the feeling of it actually inside you was foreign. you almost didn’t know if you could actually take it.

almost. you definitely were not stopping him from ruining your insides.

as the respectful king drew is, he waited for you to give him the “okay” to start moving. all you had to do was nod, and he started with a medium pace.

the moans that were already coming out of you were loud. it was so nice, especially on a night like this to be making love to drew.

he wasn’t silent either. you felt perfect around him. he had to let it be known too with the groans that came from him.

“you feel so good baby, so damn good.” he throws his head back.

“more…” you say, a little breathlessly too.

drew doesn’t even question it. he started hitting it harder and a little faster too.

“anything you want, love. this pussy was made for me baby. all for me.”

you wanted to respond and agree, but before you could, drew let a ball of spit out of his mouth and down to where the two of you connected. you were already very wet, and he already had a lot of precum going on.

and now the sound that was traveling throughout the house? straight pornographic.

“you hear that? you hear that pussy baby?” he says, lips back down onto yours.

but you could barely answer. he was going even faster and harder now, leaving you speechless with just your mouth open and small gasps coming from you.

but his hands move to your neck, “i asked you a question.”

your hands laid on top of his wrists, “yes papa.”

he let out an approving nod at your response. “good girl.”

drew moves his hands from around your neck, and he now has your knees pushed into your chest, with his hands firmly planted on the back of your thighs.

and because of this new position, he’s inside you so deep, and hitting that right spot which makes you scream out.

he smiles at the loud reaction. “is that it, baby? right there?”

“yea!” you whined back as a response.

he lets out a chuckle, and then feels you clench around him which knock him back down even further into the pleasure.

“yea baby, fuck. keep doing that.” he groans.

you weren’t just doing it to do it, tho. you were seconds away from cumming all over him.

“m’gonna cum…” you said, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“yea? go ahead baby. wanna feel it. cum all over this fat cock.”

a few more thrusts later, he got his request. you were cumming for so long on him, and he just kept fucking you through it. fucking you more harder than previously, actually.

he was getting so lost into it, so focused on getting his own release to. and with the faces and noises he’s started to make, you could tell he was almost there too.

“want your cum.” you said to him.

he moved is hands from your thighs and up to your hips, giving you the opportunity to wrap your legs around him and trap him into you.

“don’t play with me.” he warns.

“m’not! need to feel you cum inside me. i don’t care what happens.” you babbled. you definitely cared what would happen, but in the moment nothing else mattered.

“you’re playing a dangerous game, baby. y’know that?”

“i know. i wanna feel you fill me up so bad… make you a daddy.” you spur him on even further, knowing the affect it would have on him.

the grip he had on your hips got insanely tight. it kind of hurt in a way, but you didn’t care knowing that he was about to nut inside of you at any moment.

and just as you clenched around him like you did earlier, you felt him smash his hips into yours, this time keeping them connected together.

he came buckets into you. his hot, long ropes of sperm had you feeling full like it was nobodies business.

and he really needed to take a minute to collect himself. the both of you were gasping for air, him still inside you for a good minute after.

when he pulled out, you felt like jelly and so did drew. he laid back down himself, pulling your body into his.

“i’ve been waiting for that.” he spoke.

there was apart of you that kind of didn’t believe that. “you kept saying i wasn’t ready.” you chuckled.

“i know, bad mistake. i almost proposed to you halfway through.”

you laugh at him and snuggle up more into him.

he playfully taps your stomach. "we're gonna have to get you on birth control baby." he says, referring to the comment about giving him a baby earlier.

"i know." you giggle. "i kinda like the excitement tho i dont know."

he shakes his head, half jokingly and half serious. "these youngins"

you slap his chest and roll your eyes, "oh shut up unc." this makes him let out a laugh too.

the movie that was playing in the background was long over, and you both still had yet to realize netflix was asking if you guys were still watching.

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hypnagogics · 6 months ago

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before you read ▪︎ loose continuation to THIS

ultra loser!ellie x teasing(slightly sadistic tbh)!reader. reads fine as a standalone!! no fr sex, but still nsfw!!! loads of teasing, ellie's shy and flustered (also gave her glasses and piercings muahahah AND HAPPY TRAIL MENTION YAYYY), reader's a little insistent (but it's ok), mentions of masturbation, discussion of sex, REALLY horny making out at the end lol, heavy petting, they almost do it, tiny abby cameo, buildup AS PER USUAL YALL KNOW THE DRILL, kinda cliffhanger ending (its on purpose HAHA), different layout bc i cheated n looked at the poll oops...NGL TS HAD ME SWEATINGGG WRITING IT LMFAO don't think i have ever written something more horny....ok enjoy! + 2.2k wc

apparently both of you missed the professor's class cancellation email on this fateful day… other students showed up too, but they left quickly after seeing it was empty. ellie stayed to catch up on some work, enjoying the silence and typing away on her laptop, which looked like one of those beefy gaming computers.

covered in stickers and the keys changing color, you thought it was interesting she'd lug that thing around campus with her, instead of opting for something light and sleek. and now that leaves you. you had no other plans for the day, and had already mentally prepared yourself for this class, totally unaware it was canceled.

you realized it wasn't a bad idea to copy ellie, and catch up on some of your own work. however you were more intrigued by her, to be totally honest with yourself.

watching her from a distance, she captivated you. she never seemed to notice your stares, too absorbed in her thoughts. you watched her type, efficiently and quickly, pausing only to push her glasses further up her nose with her slim fingers.

the truth is, she's hot. but no one was hearing you out on that, unfortunately. they'd say to you, “what a loser! i don't think i've ever heard her talk.”

you felt overwhelmed by the urge to strike up a real conversation with her—more that simple greetings or coursework questions— and it was the perfect opportunity to do just that. so you got up, sat yourself down in the empty spot right next to her, and put on the most charming grin you could muster up. she abruptly snapped out of her focus, almost flinching at your presence.

“hey! you're ellie, right? whatcha working on?” you got close to her to see, being met with a bunch of hieroglyphic-looking strings of symbols on the screen. woah, smarty-pants. “um, it's just…some project, i dunno. how d’you know my name?”

she finally looked at you, her eyes round, wider than the ufo saucer stickers on the back of her computer. they were so green, the hazel ring reminded you of a polished agate stone. the scattered freckles on her face were so pretty too, you'd never been close enough to her to really take notice. she nervously scanned your features, blotches of pink blush decorating the apples of her plump cheeks.

she was so cute, and noticing her evident shyness flipped a switch inside you, what if you messed with her a little?

you shrugged at her, “just seen you around. you're so mysterious.” you lilt, manipulating your tone to make it smoother on the ears, even containing hints of seduction if you dared.

she blushed a deeper raspberry shade and looked down at her hands, fidgeting with her rings. she was somehow getting more attractive by the second, your heart felt like it was about to burst.

“am i? never thought of it that way, you're funny.” she mumbles, her antsiness obvious. but you didn't wish to let up so soon, you were having a lot more fun flustering her than you'd ever care to admit, even wanting to see just how far you could push her.

“ooh, i love your rings. where did you get em?” “just…places. why are you asking me so many questions?” you sighed and rolled your eyes, “well, ellie. we both don't have anything else to do, gotta pass the time somehow. i wanna talk with you, is that okay?” she took a deep breath and nodded, visibly relaxing. she stretched out her arm to get rid of the tabs on her computer, close it, and put it in her bag, which is when you got a look at her forearm tattoo.

“also i'm obsessed with your tattoo, you have no idea how cool you are, how are girls not all over you?” you question, taking her wrist in your hands and examining the tattoo's intricate line work, tracing your fingertips over the pigment in her skin.

you heard her breathing change in tempo, quickening ever so slightly. but she didn't move her arm away, and let you continue. she took a second to respond. “um. thanks, i guess. i don't really know what you mean.” her voice cracked when she said the last part, igniting a flame inside you, one that you didn't know existed.

your mind wandered, you began wondering what she sounds like when she whimpers. was she really so starved of human contact you could mold her like putty, just with your fingers and tongue? you wanted to find out so badly, wanted to hear how she'd cry your name out if you fucked her into oblivion. was she a squirter or a creamer? you hoped to the heavens above you'd get to find out someday. maybe it was too much to fantasize like this, considering you formally met just now, but you weren't hurting anyone if it all never left the confines of your mind.

you were lucky you hid your own arousal well, nothing out of the ordinary showed on your face whatsoever. ellie wasn't so lucky—to her dismay, but to your delight—everything played out on her delicate features so clearly, it was nothing short of delectable.

your eyes bore into hers, the intensity of the eye contact making her shiver, and attempt to break it. “ellie, ellie, ellie, may i call you els?” you didn't wait for an answer, and continued, “do you have a girlfriend?” you pouted your lips at her, feigning sadness as if her response was something you didn't already infer.

she was stuttering now, stumbling over her words, making less and less sense as the conversation went on. she was anxiously bouncing her leg, you could see her chest rising and falling, and her face had turned a lovely crimson color, it was so strong, the flush had spread down her neck and reached her ears, making her piercings stand out. good lord.

“ahem- no, i don't have a girlfriend. actually never have, shocking i know.” she chuckles at her self-deprecating joke, and while her smile was enough to light up a room, you wanted to slap the doubt out of her. or rather, fuck it out of her.

you exhaled loudly, “hahh, well isn't that a shame. you're so pretty, i'll just have to snatch you up for myself then.” she swallowed audibly, greatly taken aback. “sorry, what?” “oh, don't you know how much people love losers like you? tsk tsk tsk, you're so much hotter than you realize, i mean it, els. look at you! you've got these piercings, this tattoo, you're smarter than this whole class combined, seriously.”

she just gaped at you, unable to process what she was hearing. no one had ever talked to her like this, it was only something she read about. and coming from you? this ethereal person who starred in all of her most intimate fantasies? she rubbed her eyes roughly, convinced she was hallucinating. her mouth opened and closed dumbly, her voice box failing to produce any sound. but you were affecting her so much, especially because she lusted after you to an extent she could only take to the grave.

flashes of her midnight escapades flickered in her mind, of her shoving her hand down her pants like an animal in heat, orgasming so intensely she'd black out, abusing her hole with nothing but images of you playing in her mind, and your name on her tongue. her cheeks burned with the embarrassment of her wild actions, and she shook her head to clear the thoughts away.

you groaned and leaned back in your own seat, exclaiming, “god i'm so bored. and pent up, fuck. it's been so long since i had sex…” that was true. in any other situation you'd never say something like that aloud, but because you were alone with the clueless idiot you wanted so carnally, you let it slip.

“...maybe you should take care of that.” you heard her cough out, her voice coming out strangled. “i could. but that's boring.” you opened your eyes again and smirked devilishly her way, poor girl looked like she was about to go on a trip with the ferryman.

you grabbed her hand, examining it some more, commenting, “you play guitar, don't you? guitarists are very good with their hands, i will say.” you played with her hand, pressing it into a fist, then extending her middle and ring finger. gosh, what's gotten into you? “i bet you're sooo good.”

you've never seen a person look more flustered than she did right now in this moment. her voice was impossibly quiet, barely above a whisper, “cut it out.” “okay, fine.”

some beats of silence passed, but a thought crossed your mind. if she really hated this interaction that much, she could have got up and left eons ago, yet she stayed here and endured it all. hmm. you blurted out, “els, have you kissed anyone before?”

and again she stayed silent, even after you waited patiently for an answer. she kept looking away, her jaw tense.

you decided to quit the teasing just for a moment, and speak to her gently, genuinely. you shifted to sit a little closer to her and asked, “do you want to?” her gaze locked onto your mouth, she licked her lips, then muttered, “if you're really offering and not just fucking with me, sure-”

your patience broke and you didn't wait for her to finish her sentence before swiftly leaning forward and connecting your lips with hers, relishing the tiny gasp she made as soon as you did it. she tasted like a dream.

after a split second she kissed you back, it was inexperienced and clumsy, fueled by adrenaline, but she got into a rhythm soon enough. you took the lead and deepened the kiss, absent-mindedly tugging on her bottom lip with your teeth, coaxing eager whimpers out of her, pure music to your ears.

you succumbed to the sensations and increased the pace, your tongue dancing against hers. you felt her hands fumble by your waist, and she pulled you closer to her. your hands clawed at her chest, the beautiful symphony of panting, the wet smacking of your lips colliding, and her uncontrolled moans filled the empty room.

she gripped your waist so tightly, fingertips surely leaving small marks in their wake, you couldn't wait to find them later, and you shamelessly felt up her chest, your thumbs finding her nipples—perky, hard, and poking out through her thin shirt. you caressed and rubbed and squeezed, feeling her jolt under your magical touch.

she was fully whining now. spilling needy, high-pitched sounds, this was better than you could've ever imagined. neither one of you breaking the kiss for even a second, your hand trailed lower and landed on her stomach, slipping under the bottom of her shirt. you felt her defined abs tensing, and the whisper of a happy trail—now it was your turn to moan.

she got even louder and her kisses got sloppier, and you were about to venture inside her waistband before a sudden sound startled you both.

your phone vibrated aggressively, and with great effort you separated yourself from ellie, long strings of spit connecting you to her still.

she whimpered from the loss of contact, chasing your lips, then huffing and quietly groaning while you took out your phone, her hands not letting go of your waist. when you checked it, it was a message from your friend, abby, just saying: URGENT. COME HERE NOW. ASAP.

fuck her. fuck her and her timing, was all you could think. really, now? you wanted to kill her.

trying to slow your breathing and racing heart, you explained apologetically, “ugh, it's urgent. im so, so sorry ellie, i gotta go.” she stared at you, speechless, but nodded meekly, reluctantly retracting her arms. you didn't want to leave, and stayed gazing at her for a little longer, and brushed a loose strand of soft hair out of her face. what a cutie, she looked all disheveled and dazed. you were about to look for a paper to scribble down your number to keep in touch, until your phone buzzed again, and started ringing with abby's repeated attempts to get ahold of you. couldn't she wait a minute?

you gave ellie one last devastated look, getting up and rushing out of the classroom before abby called you another seventeen times.

ellie was left in the classroom, reeling from the encounter and what it had turned into. she was utterly bewildered at the events that transpired, her blood rushing in her ears, mind spinning, lips still puffy, glasses fogged over, hands trembling, and of course a sticky, uncomfortable damp spot in her boxers. she leaned forward to rest her head on the desk in front of her on top of crossed arms, to take a moment to cool down before escaping back to her place.

“holy shit.”

im horny🧍‍♂️just like ellie after that. as soon as she got home, u best believe she came so hard she saw literal angels and deities LMFAOO (this is my favorite thing ive ever written gawdDAYUM)

yall who wanted more, hope this suffices as a continuation! @stonerzdaze420692 @womenlvrrr

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potchi-fics · 8 days ago

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note: g!p caitlyn. contains overstimulation, breeding kink, and jealous cait yummy. ang sarap niya fuckkkk sarap sarap sarap ALSO I DIDNT REALIZE THIS WAS SO LONG (not proofread. and i kid you not, my google docs crashed THREE TIMES while i was writing this. this is my new years present to yall--2024 may be down but cait's dick is up)

“darling, you know we have to go out in thirty minutes,” caitlyn’s distant voice called out from your closet.

you’re currently doing up your make-up in front of the mirror, doing finishing touches, “yeah, i know, baby. i’m about to be done. how about you?”

you see her come out of the room, whistling when you see her outfit, it’s an all-black outfit: jacket with a black button-up, trousers, and loafers. simple yet elegant. she walks towards you while fixing the cuffs of her button-up.

“you look absolutely beautiful, darling,” her arms snake around your hips, kissing the side of your neck, “do we have to go?”

just in time to finish your make-up, a giggle escapes your lips, and you turn around to face her, your own wrapping around her neck, “you look gorgeous, baby. and you, house kiramman, are the ones hosting the gala, stupid.”

she gives you a tight-lipped smile, her eyes squinting for a second but you see it, she doesn’t want to go. you gently pull her down, how she grew so much is still a mystery to you.

“it’ll be done before you know it,” you peck her lips, your lipstick leaving its mark on her—you rub it away tenderly, “come on, honey. we are gonna be late.” your kisses seemed to repeat, enunciating every word with a kiss.

caitlyn hums in content, her eyes closing, “you do realize your lipstick is fading the more you kiss me, right?”

“i’ll retouch in the car.”

…

the gala is everything you expected: formal, rich people. you step into the venue and you immediately spot mrs. kiramman and her husband.

she hugs you, “i’m glad you two are able to make it.” she makes her way to her daughter, “surprised you’re here, can’t seem to pull you away from your work.”

“good thing i’m here, mrs. kiramman,” an arm wraps around your waist, kissing the top of your head, “caitlyn here is married to her work, i swear. and here i thought i was gonna be married to her first.”

“i am not married to my work.” caitlyn grumbles, sticking closer to you. “i am a very busy woman, is all.”

you two converse with her parents for a while before an attending guest invited himself in your little party, taking away the older couple. that leaves the two of you alone. you grab a champagnes, offering caitlyn a glass.

for about an hour or two, you two got separated, engaging other people. you give caitlyn a smile, who is on the other side of the room when you catch her gaze. she’s been watching you occasionally, keeping an eye on you.

and she doesn’t miss how a woman is trying to hit on you. of course, you’re oblivious to it. caitlyn’s eyes glint dangerously under the light, her teeth grinding when she sees the woman touch your arm, lingering for someone who’s supposed to be a stranger, undressing you with her eyes, and even going as far as touching your back, it barely made contact, but still. and that’s enough for her to down her champagne, make a beeline for to you, her strides strong and wide.

“oh, and this is my partner, caitlyn kiramman,” caitlyn rightfully takes her spot beside you, squeezing herself in between you and the stranger, “hi, honey.”

“hello,” she gives your little crowd a charming smile, though it holds a little bit of malice. she pulls you closer to her, “i may need to steal her away. we have some business to attend to, i’m afraid so.”

without giving you a chance to talk, you two walk away—you’re glad though, you are tired of their stuffy personalities. a confused expression takes over your face when caitlyn leads you outside of the venue, leading you to a hallway and going through door after door.

your gaze observes the room, and you assume that the two of you are very far away from the party. she locks the door, unbottons her jacket, taking it off, and throws it on a couch.

“cait, where are w–”

you didn’t get to finish your question because her lips were on yours the moment you spoke, her hand going on the side of your neck, fingers softly digging themselves into your skin to tilt your head up, deepening the kiss.

you whimper when you feel her tongue take a swipe on your lips, asking you to open your mouth and you do. her tongue slithers in, licking every part of your mouth. she is demanding, yearning—like she wants all of you.

her knee presses between your legs, you let out a whimper of pleasure, grounding yourself on her thigh, your hands clutching the fabric of her shirt.

“grind yourself on my leg, darling.” she pulls away to say, her voice deep and husky, “i’m waiting.”

you’ve never been so happy to wear a side-slit dress. thanks to the access, you’re able to grind on caitlyn’s leg, rubbing your clothed pussy; the numb pleasure takes over your mind, caitlyn’s adding to your pleasure by leaving open-mouthed kisses on your neck, collarbone, lips, everywhere her lips could reach.

your hips stutter, and your clit going sensitive—it’s maddening, you need more. but caitlyn won’t give it to you, not yet. you let out a gasp, burying your head on her shoulder, the pleasure slowly taking over your whole being; it’s as if your body is on fire.

you start to feel lightheaded. desperate for more, you grab your hand, leading it under your dress, your other tugging it higher, a flush creeping up your neck at the thought of doing this outside your home.

“hmm?” caitlyn knows how to make you beg, she resists your movements, throwing a teasing smile your way, “what is it you want, my love? i’m gonna need you to say what you want.”

you narrow your eyes at her, your gaze betraying the frustration you try to keep at bay, “honey, you dragged me here. take responsibility.”

“of course, darling.” caitlyn clutches a handful of your dress, crumpling it as she pulls it higher to expose your lower body. she removes herself from you and kneels, her hand gripping your undergarments, yanking it down in a rough, deliberate motion, taking it off of you. “i’ll take responsibility.”

she puts one leg over her shoulder, caitlyn looking up at you as she takes one lick at your awaiting cunt, studying how close your eyes, head tilting back against the wall; watching how you stifled a gasp, but a faint sound slips through.

desire coursed through her, undeniable and all-consuming—she went harder, deeper, sinking further into you, her nose bumping with your clit. your hands dart down, gripping her hair with desperation and need. she flattens her tongue for you, and you take that chance to grind your hips. you can feel yourself dripping, it’s beginning to travel down your legs.

a low hum of satisfaction reverbed around the room, sending vibrations on your cunt—caitlyn is loving every second of this. knowing that only she can see you break down like this. her dick is begging to be let out.

you push her away, your breaths coming in short pants, and due to her being caught off-guard, she fell on her backside, staring up at you wildly. in an instant, you’re on your knees, crawling to where she is, coming between her legs.

your fingers fumble with the button of her trousers, pulling it down along with her undergarments, setting her weeping cock free.

“care to explain what’s going on here, caitlyn?” there’s huskiness to your voice, smooth yet commanding—your hands wrap themselves around the base of her cock, your mouth going dangerously near it, “go on then.”

caitlyn speaks the words, but her eyes give her away, “nothing is going on.”

“try again, baby.” you kiss her tip, a flinch is what you get from her. you continue to kiss everywhere: her dick, her thighs, her abdomen, her navel.

only did she speak when her lower body is covered in lipstick kisses, and she’s left throbbing in need. she grits out, “blame that woman. she was too touchy.”

“oh?” she lets out a groan of frustration, leaning back on her elbows, throwing her head back, and closing her eyes, “jealous?”

“i don’t get jealo–”

“then allow me to assure you.”

you take her dick inside your mouth, inches after inches going down your throat, and all she can do is watch you take it. a guttural moan escapes her lips, her hips slightly lifting off of the ground—you close your eyes when you feel her go even deeper.

for a second, you stay there, deepthroating caitlyn, your nose buried in her neat patch of tamed hair, shaking your head ever so lightly; caitlyn loves it when you do that and she gives you a growl of appreciation.

she grabs your head, her other palm lying flat on the floor as leverage, and her hips take off. caitlyn’s eyes are unfocused, a distant haze clouding them as she soaks in the sight of you happily taking it.

“you love this, don’t– fuck, don’t you?” she murmurs. “always such a good girl for me.”

to answer her question, you swallow around her, the motion made her falter, breaking her rhythm. your hands pressed firmly against her hips, keeping her down—you pull up, sucking only the tip, eyes meeting, and then slowly going back down.

“all the way to the base for me, darling,” she gently pushes your head to guide you, her cock twitching when your nose meets with her hair once again, “there you go. good girl. i’m close.”

you come back up suddenly, maneuvering yourself to straddle her hips, your hand darting down to lead her inside of you, “not yet.”

caitlyn grits out the words through clenched teeth, “it’ll be difficult in this position, darling.” she places her hands under your knees, your hands shooting out to wrap around her neck as she stands up.

you feel the wall on your back, she drops one leg, keeping one leg lifted. the groans that leave you both as she enters you are raw, eyes fluttering close. god, she just keeps on sliding inside of you, you swear she’s kissing your cervix.

caitlyn withdrew slowly, then returned in, taking her time with every inch. your hand comes down to cover your mouth, you’re still in public, after all. and caitlyn notices. a sudden slam of her hips made you let out a soft moan, but barely audible.

her relentless harsh thrusts never let up. caitlyn feels so good, you feel so good around her, you squeeze her so good; your whimpers, your ragged breaths hitting her throat, mewling out her name like a broken record every time the head of her gushing dick of precum hits your spot, it’s all too much for her. her head drops down to your shoulder as she cums—the wave of sudden warmth filling you taking you by surprise, your eyes unfocusing, tightening around her cock.

by the time she’s done filling you up, she’s still moving her hips, pushing through her sensitivity. she needs this. she needs you.

she puts down your leg, turning you around, not pulling out of you. with your palms on the wall, her hands find your hips, holding it with a bruising grip, each slam of her hips on your backside sending you forward.

“only i could touch you like that, my love,” her frustration seeps through her thrusts, the claps of your hips mixing with your broken moans, “who does she think she is.”

your knees buckle, but thanks to her strength, she holds you up. she may look lanky due to her height and weight, but she’s pure muscle. you grip her wrist, unable to form words because how could you when you feel her deep inside your gut, when you feel your slick trailing down your leg, making a mess on the floor, or simply the feeling of her cock going in and out of you.

your orgasm comes out of nowhere, catching you and her off-guard, your body shudders in pleasure, shaking and spasming, triggering another one from caitlyn. she bends down, groaning in your nape as she fills you again.

her thrusts transition into lazy ones as you ride out your orgasms. you nuzzle your cheek against her head, your throat beginning to sore, swallowing with difficulty.

she pulls out of you, letting you two slide down the floor. you take this chance to lie on your back, your legs shivering, your forearm covering your sweaty face. you feel her firm but gentle touch on your legs.

her hands are back on the back of your knees again, forcing them up until you’re nearly folded in half, further ruining your dress, “one more.”

she slides her cock in, your eyes rolling back in pleasure at the new angle—she is much deeper in this position. she feels your cunt flutter, pulling her in if that’s even possible.

she begins her ruthless pace again, your breasts bouncing in your dress with the force of her thrust, determined to fill you up, to cum inside of you again and again. the pleasure is drowning you, whimpering when she hits your spot, then abusing it over and over and over again. you lift your head to see her dick disappear inside your sopping sensitive cunt, and to listen to the wet noises every time caitlyn thrusts back in you.

she wasn’t much better than you—her ruthless pace is becoming sloppy, uncoordinated, chasing her own high. her choked moans, breathy sighs as you milk her, feeds your ego.

you don’t make a sound when you cum for the second time, only the fluttering of your pussy makes it known. caitlyn doubles her effort by circling your clit, effectively intensifying your orgasm. only did she allow herself to cum when your fingers dig into her sides.

she forces her dick in you, going deeper than ever before. the spurts of her gushing dick emit a soft sigh from you, she presses her face into your neck as she legs go of your legs. you hold her, playing with the hairs on the back of her head, not letting go until she’s done filling you up.

“fuck, cait, are you trying to get me pregnant or what.” you allow your limbs to relax, and you feel her cum drip down out of you. you’re sweaty and sticky all over, your throat sore, ears ringing, legs are shaking, pussy filled with her cum, eyes still unfocused, “you are an animal, honey.”

you feel her kiss your jaw, her breaths still ragged, hitting your neck. you both moan as she pulls out, your face burns at the sight of her creamy cock, still twitching, and dripping with cum.

she sits back and leans on the wall, hissing when she grabbed the base of her dick. your whole body is screaming at you to lie down, however, you crawl again to her, sitting next to her. her eyes close shut and she lets her head fall on top of your head.

taking this chance, you wrap your hands around her softening dick; she reacts quickly, her fingers gripping your wrist.

“ah-ah. hands off, honey.” you pull your hand off your wrist. slowly, you jerk her off, swiping your thumb over her head, “just one more.”

you let a mischievous smirk form when you see her face contort into pain and pleasure, the sensitivity becoming too much for her.

you pump your hand, relishing every time her cock twitches in your hand, every time her hips try to pull away from your hand. you see her hands form a fist, this must be painful for her.

“i did say i’ll assure you, didn’t i?” you kiss her cheek, your mouth lingering on it, “can you cum for me again?”

caitlyn’s hips start to subtly thrust up to meet your pumps, she feels your every touch, every line on your hands. her mouth hands open, her eyes remain closed, she’s pulsing in your hand.

“you’re the only person i touch like this, cailtyn.” your breath hitting her ears adds to her pleasure that is spreading all over her body. “yeah? just like this?”

“da-darling,” caitlyn gasps out, “too sen-sensitive.” you grip harder, pump harder, “please, i can’t anymo-more.”

her back arches off the wall, eyes opening suddenly when she feels you take her tip in your mouth, sucking her like candy. she makes an attempt at pulling her hips back but it’s no use. it hurts. It hurts so good.

you hollow your cheeks, your hand following your mouth as your slurp, gag, and suck. caitlyn doesn’t know what to do, it’s too much for her—the burning pleasure on her cock. yet she yearns to cum.

you go back up for air, taking her tip in, not giving her a break, and your hand pumps the remaining inches. “go-gonna cum, darling–”

without letting her speak, you quickly push her in you, smiling when you feel her cum inside of you again. she wraps her arms around your torso, grounding you unto her dick as she thrusts up, her cum painting your walls white again.

she muffles her groans using your chest, hugging you so tightly, that her muscles are flexing under her clothes. a sigh of contentment leaves you when she stops rocking her hips up, her dick softening inside of you.

“still jealous?” her breaths were ragged, coming in short gasps as she tried to steady herself. “come back to me, cait.”

oh, you done broke her.

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goldfades · 3 months ago

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WHO DID THIS TO YOU?──RAFE CAMERON

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine it's crucial that we stand in solidarity with those who need our support. right now, the people of palestine are facing unimaginable hardship, and it's up to all of us to do what we can to help. whether it's raising awareness, donating to relief organizations, or supporting calls for justice and peace, every action counts. we can amplify their voices, shed light on their struggles, and work towards a future where every individual can live with dignity and freedom. your support can make a difference! FREE PALESTINE!

for this request, for my lovely jo! @wanderlusturous

─ summary | you and rafe are consumed by an obsessive love, where their madness is fueled by each other. you find exhilaration in pushing boundaries, testing each other’s limits, and the deeper you fall into your shared insanity, the tighter your bond becomes. when rafe finds you crying in your bedroom one day, he loses his shit and is thrown into a silent rage, seeking revenge. and you don't mind, not one bit.

─ pairing | rafe cameron x fem!reader

─ warnings | oh my god, where do i even begin?? obsessive rafe, like insane but reader reciprocates it. a few kisses but mostly just insane stuff. mention of drugging (not to reader), hacking (?), idk what else but this is lowkey insane...

─ ev's notes | im gonna be honest, i don't know if i like this... but lmk if yall enjoyed it. it's a little too dark-themed for me and i got into it until i reread it and realized that it was lowkey insane but hey!!! whatever!!! anyway, pls lmk if this was too dark.. or if you enjoyed it. also, sorry to any becca's out there, it was just the first name that popped up. any feedback is always very appreciated!

ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my masterlist!

The night is suffocating, thick with tension that mirrors the pulse racing in your veins. Every sound, every breath, seems amplified, as if the world knows what’s coming. You stand by the dock, your eyes on the dark water ahead, but your thoughts are elsewhere—on him.

Rafe.

You can already feel him, even when he’s not here. The way your skin hums when you think of him, the way your pulse skips in sync with his name. No one gets you like Rafe does. No one makes you feel like the world is spinning off its axis just by looking at you. He’s chaos, destruction wrapped in a pretty face, and you... you crave it.

The roar of an engine breaks through the night. You don’t turn, but a slow smile curls on your lips. You feel the heat of his presence before you even hear his footsteps.

“Couldn’t stay away, could you?” Rafe’s voice is a low drawl, but there’s something manic beneath it, something that sparks against the madness in you.

You turn your head slightly, just enough to catch his eyes. There’s that look again. That wild, possessive look that sets your blood on fire. He’s close now, so close you can feel the heat radiating off him, feel the tension in the air tighten like a noose around your neck.

“Neither could you,” you reply, your voice low, daring.

He grins, a sharp, dangerous thing. “You’re right. I can’t.”

His fingers brush your arm, just a ghost of a touch, but it’s enough to ignite something violent between you. This—this is what you live for. The thrill. The madness. The way Rafe looks at you like you’re the only thing keeping him sane, and maybe that’s what scares you the most.

Because you’re not sane.

Not anymore.

You can’t even remember why you broke up with him a few months ago, but all you know is that it got overwhelming. There was something suffocating about it—about him. The way he always knew where you were, who you were with, what you were thinking before you even said it. At first, it was intoxicating, the way he could read you like no one else ever could, like you were the only two people on earth and no one else mattered. But then… it was too much. His intensity felt like drowning in quicksand, slow but relentless. And for a moment, just a moment, you thought maybe you needed air.

But standing here now, with the salt stinging your nostrils and the wind howling like some kind of omen, you can’t remember why you ever thought you could leave him.

Because there he is—Rafe Cameron, walking toward you like the world is his and you’re his prize, eyes locked on you in a way that makes your chest tighten, your stomach coil in knots. He’s dangerous in all the ways that matter. Not just because he’s reckless and violent (though God knows he is), but because of how he makes you feel. Alive, in a way that hurts. Like the rush you get standing on the edge of a cliff, knowing one wrong step and it’s all over, but you can’t stop yourself from leaning forward, just to feel the thrill of almost falling.

He doesn’t stop walking until he’s so close you can smell the gasoline and smoke on his clothes, the wild energy pouring off him in waves. He looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters, like you’re the oxygen he’s been deprived of for too long, and suddenly it all makes sense again. The madness. The break-up. The inevitable pull back to him.

“Why’d you leave me?” His voice is low, rough like gravel. His eyes burn with something fierce, and you can feel it sinking into you, clawing its way under your skin. He’s not asking because he doesn’t know. He’s asking because he wants to hear you say it.

You stare at him, heart pounding, pulse thrumming in your ears like a warning. But instead of stepping back, you step forward, closing the small gap between you two. Your breath mingles with his, the night air thick with unsaid things, and you feel like you’re standing on the edge of something irreversible. Like if you take one more step, there’s no going back.

But isn’t that what you’ve always wanted? The danger. The thrill. The sick, twisted excitement of being so intertwined with him that you forget where he ends and you begin.

“I don’t know,” you whisper, even though that’s not the full truth. You do know. You left because you were scared. Scared of how much you wanted him, needed him, even when it hurt. Scared of the fact that the line between love and obsession blurred so fast with him that you couldn’t tell the difference anymore.

His jaw tightens, and his hands, those rough, calloused hands that have touched you in ways no one else ever has, reach out. He grips your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze, and for a moment, you swear you can see the wild, unhinged thing lurking just behind his eyes. It’s the same thing you see in yourself when you look in the mirror. The madness that ties you to him, binds you like a curse.

“You do know,” he says, voice dark and demanding. His thumb brushes your bottom lip, slow, like he’s testing how far he can push you before you break. “You just won’t say it.”

A shiver runs down your spine, but it’s not fear. It’s something else, something deeper. Something that feels like surrender and power all at once. You lean into his touch, letting his hand curl around the side of your face, the heat of him soaking into your skin like a drug.

“I couldn’t handle it,” you admit, the words thick and heavy in your throat. “You. Us. It was too much.”

Rafe’s lips curl into a smirk, but it’s not a kind one. It’s dark, possessive. “Too much? You know you liked it. You loved it.” His hand tightens slightly on your jaw, just enough for you to feel the edge of his control, like he’s reminding you who he is. What he is. “You loved me because of how fucked up we are. Don’t pretend otherwise.”

You swallow hard, heart thundering in your chest, because deep down, you know he’s right. You’ve never felt more alive than when you were with him, caught up in the madness of it all. The fights, the passion, the way you both pushed each other to the edge and then pulled each other back, only to do it all over again. It was twisted, dangerous, and wrong in every way, but that’s what made it irresistible.

“I did,” you confess, and it’s like a weight lifts off your chest, even as you feel yourself falling back into him, back into the chaos. “I do.”

The smirk fades, replaced by something darker, hungrier. His eyes search yours, looking for any sign of hesitation, any crack in your resolve. But there’s nothing. You’re not the same person who left him. Maybe you never really left at all.

Rafe’s hand slides from your chin to the back of your neck, pulling you closer until his lips hover just inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin. “That’s what I thought,” he murmurs, and before you can respond, his mouth crashes into yours, hard and demanding.

It’s not gentle. It’s never been gentle with Rafe. His kiss is all teeth and tongue, like he’s trying to devour you, claim you all over again. And you let him, because deep down, you crave it just as much as he does. The fire, the chaos, the way he makes you feel like you’re spinning out of control but somehow exactly where you’re supposed to be.

When he pulls back, you’re both breathing hard, your lips swollen, your pulse racing like you’ve just run a marathon. His hands grip your waist now, pulling you flush against him, and you can feel the heat of his body searing into yours.

“Tell me,” he says, voice low and dangerous, his eyes boring into yours. “Tell me you’re mine.”

Your heart hammers in your chest, but you don’t hesitate. “I’m yours.” And you are, completely, utterly, unashamedly his.

And just like that, you’re back where you started.

───MONTHS LATER . . .

“God fucking damn it, if you don't tell me right now, I'm gonna lose my shit!” Rafe shouts, his voice cracking like thunder in the small living room as he throws the beer bottle against the wall.

Glass shatters everywhere, scattering across the floor, but you don’t even flinch. You’ve seen this before. Hell, you’ve lived it. The rage, the temper, the chaos—it's like a script you’ve both memorized by heart.

You lean back against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, watching him like you would a caged animal—wild and unpredictable. He’s pacing now, his movements sharp and erratic, the muscles in his jaw clenched so tightly you wonder if they might snap. His eyes are wild, blue like ice but burning with something untamable, something dangerous. He’s teetering on the edge, that fine line between fury and desperation, and you know it won’t take much to push him over.

But you don’t care. Not right now.

“Rafe, calm the fuck down,” you say, your voice steady, almost bored. You know that’ll get to him. It always does. Nothing makes him crazier than when you don’t give him the reaction he’s fishing for.

His head snaps in your direction, eyes narrowing as he stalks toward you like a predator honing in on prey. He stops just inches away, towering over you, his chest heaving, breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts. He’s so close now that you can smell the alcohol on his breath, feel the heat radiating off his skin. But you don’t move. You stand your ground, looking up at him with a calm that borders on defiance.

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” he spits, voice laced with venom. His hands are balled into fists at his sides, knuckles white. “I’m sick of your bullshit! You think you can just stand there like you’re better than me, like you’re not a part of this, but guess what, baby? You are. You always have been.”

You tilt your head slightly, eyes narrowing as a slow smile creeps across your lips. “You’re being dramatic, Rafe,” you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “What, you gonna break something else? Or are you actually gonna say what’s bothering you for once?”

That does it.

He slams his hands down on the counter behind you, trapping you between his arms, his face just inches from yours. His eyes blaze with fury, but beneath it, you see something else—something raw, something that makes your stomach twist in knots.

“Don’t play games with me,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous. “I know what you’re doing. You think you can just push me around, mess with my head, and I’ll keep coming back like a fucking dog, huh?”

You meet his gaze, unblinking, heart racing in your chest but refusing to show it. You can feel the tension crackling between you like electricity, the air thick with it, suffocating. This is what it always comes down to with Rafe—this toxic push and pull, this need to break each other just to see what’s left after the pieces fall apart.

“You think I’m the one messing with your head?” you say, your voice low, challenging. “Maybe you should take a look in the mirror, Rafe. You’re not exactly innocent in this, are you?”

His jaw clenches, and for a moment, you think he’s going to explode. But instead, he just stares at you, eyes flickering with something dark, something primal. Then, slowly, he leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin.

“Innocent?” he whispers, his lips brushing your ear. “Baby, I’ve never claimed to be innocent. You knew exactly who I was when you got into this.”

You don’t flinch. You don’t pull back. Instead, you tilt your head slightly, your lips grazing the corner of his jaw as you whisper back, “Yeah, and that’s why I’m not scared of you.”

His breath hitches, just for a second, and you feel a surge of satisfaction. You’ve always known how to push his buttons, how to throw him off balance, even when he’s at his most dangerous. It’s a game you’ve played a thousand times before, and you both know how it ends—chaotic, messy, with both of you circling back to the same place.

But this time feels different.

There’s something darker in the way he’s looking at you, something that feels more like possession than anger. Like he’s not just mad because you’re fighting—he’s mad because he can’t stand the thought of you slipping away. Because he knows, deep down, that no matter how hard you push him, he’ll always want you. Need you.

“You don’t get to walk away from me,” Rafe says, his voice low, deadly. “Not this time.”

You feel his grip tighten on the counter behind you, his body pressing against yours as if he’s trying to fuse the two of you together, like if he holds on tight enough, you won’t be able to escape. But he doesn’t know, doesn’t understand that you’re already too far gone. That the very thing he’s holding on to is slipping through his fingers, and there’s nothing either of you can do about it.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” you say softly, a cold smile on your lips. “I can walk away whenever I want. I just choose not to.”

And with that, you duck under his arm, slipping out from between him and the counter. His eyes follow you, wide with disbelief, rage bubbling just beneath the surface. You know he’s about to lose it, to completely unravel. But you don’t turn back. Not yet.

Because this time, you want him to come after you.

And he always does.

Rafe’s eyes darken as you slip past him, and for a moment, the room goes deadly silent. The tension is thick, heavy like a storm cloud waiting to burst. You know exactly what’s coming, and it sends a thrill down your spine. You can almost feel it—the moment he snaps, the second his control shatters. It’s a twisted game, one you’ve played too many times before, and every time, you push him a little harder, a little further, just to see how far he’ll go for you.

You take slow, deliberate steps toward the door, your back turned to him, feeling the heat of his gaze sear into you. You don’t need to look back to know he’s watching, every muscle in his body tensed like a predator stalking its prey. The air feels electric, charged with a violence that’s always been just beneath the surface between you two.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” His voice cuts through the silence like a knife, sharp and biting. You stop, but you don’t turn around. Not yet.

“Does it matter?” you ask, voice calm, almost teasing. “I thought I could walk away whenever I wanted, remember?”

The silence that follows is deafening. You know you’ve hit a nerve. He hates when you challenge him, hates when you act like you have the upper hand. But that’s what makes it so addictive—pushing him to his limit, watching him unravel in front of you, knowing that no matter how hard he fights it, he’ll always come back to you.

Because he can’t help it. Neither of you can.

Suddenly, you hear his footsteps behind you, fast and heavy, and before you can react, his hand grips your arm, yanking you back toward him with a force that nearly knocks the breath out of you. He spins you around, his face inches from yours, eyes blazing with fury.

“You’re not fucking going anywhere,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous. His grip tightens on your arm, fingers digging into your skin, but the pain only makes your pulse quicken, your breath hitch in your throat. There’s something about the way he looks at you—like he’s on the verge of losing control, like he’s barely holding himself together—that sends a thrill through you.

“Let go of me, Rafe,” you say, your voice daring him, even though you know you don’t really want him to.

He doesn’t. Instead, he pulls you closer, his other hand gripping the back of your neck, forcing you to look up at him. His chest is heaving, his eyes wild, but there’s something else there, too—something desperate, like he’s terrified of losing you, like he’s clinging to you with everything he has left.

“You think you can just walk away?” he snarls, his breath hot against your face. “After everything? After all the shit we’ve been through? You really think I’m just gonna let you go?”

You meet his gaze, unblinking, your heart racing, but there’s no fear. Not with him. There never is. Instead, you feel the pull again—the twisted, sick need to see how far you can push him, how deep his obsession goes.

“I think you don’t have a choice,” you say, your voice steady, even though your pulse is hammering in your ears.

His grip tightens, his jaw clenched so hard you can see the muscles twitching beneath his skin. For a second, you think he’s going to snap—really snap—but then, just as quickly, something shifts in his expression. The anger doesn’t fade, but it’s joined by something darker, something raw and consuming.

“You’re wrong,” he whispers, his voice barely audible but laced with danger. “You don’t get to decide when this ends. I do.”

Before you can react, his lips crash against yours, rough and demanding, as if he’s trying to prove a point. It’s not a kiss; it’s a claim, a reminder that you belong to him, whether you want to admit it or not. His hands tighten on you, pulling you impossibly closer, and you can feel the tension in his body, the barely restrained violence simmering just beneath the surface.

But instead of pulling away, you kiss him back with just as much fire, matching his intensity. It’s always been like this between you two—this chaotic, messy whirlwind of emotion that neither of you can control. You push, he pulls, and somewhere in the middle of it all, you find something that feels like love, even though you both know it’s something darker, something more dangerous.

When he finally pulls back, both of you are breathing hard, your lips swollen and bruised. His hand stays on the back of your neck, his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that’s both possessive and tender, like he’s reminding himself that you’re still here, still his.

“You’re mine,” he says, his voice rough, eyes blazing as he stares down at you. “You’ve always been mine.”

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. There’s a part of you that wants to fight it, to push him away and run as far as you can. But there’s a bigger part of you, a darker part, that knows he’s right.

You’re his. You always have been.

“Yeah,” you breathe, your voice barely a whisper. “I’m yours.”

The words hang in the air between you, thick and heavy, and for a moment, everything else falls away. The anger, the tension, the broken glass on the floor—it’s all background noise now. All that matters is the two of you, standing here in this twisted, fucked-up mess of a relationship, knowing that no matter how many times you try to break free, you’ll always end up right back here.

With him.

Rafe’s grip on you softens, just slightly, and for the first time in what feels like hours, the intensity in his eyes eases. But it’s still there, simmering beneath the surface, waiting for the next time one of you decides to test the limits again. Because there will be a next time. There always is.

“You’re not leaving me again,” he says, his voice softer now, but no less serious. “Not ever.”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Because deep down, you know that no matter how much you might want to, no matter how many times you tell yourself you can walk away, you won’t.

You never could.

And Rafe knows it, too.

───

You don’t usually cry. Not ever. Tears are something you’ve learned to bury deep down, hidden under layers of indifference and biting sarcasm. But tonight, they come, hot and angry, streaming down your face as you sit curled up on the edge of the bed, hands trembling in your lap. The weight of the evening presses down on you, your mind reeling from everything that happened.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Not tonight.

Your phone buzzes again on the nightstand, but you ignore it. You can’t deal with it right now. You don’t want to see the messages or hear the apologies. You don’t want to relive what just went down.

You wipe at your face roughly, trying to pull yourself together, but it’s no use. The shaky breath you let out only betrays you further, and you feel the tears well up again. You bite your lip to keep from making a sound, not wanting him to hear you.

But, of course, Rafe hears everything.

The door swings open, and Rafe steps inside, his broad frame filling the doorway. He looks at you, really looks at you, and in an instant, his expression darkens. His blue eyes narrow as they sweep over you, taking in the tear-streaked face, the hunched shoulders, the way your body is wound tight like a coiled spring, ready to snap. His jaw tightens, and you can practically feel the shift in the air around him.

“What happened?” His voice is low, dangerous, barely restrained. It’s not a question—it’s a demand.

You shake your head, trying to brush it off. “It’s nothing, Rafe. Just forget it.”

But you know better than to think he’ll let it go. The second you met him, you realized Rafe Cameron isn’t the kind of guy who “forgets” anything.

He moves closer, the tension in his body palpable. He’s not pacing like he usually does when he’s angry. This is different. Controlled. Focused. Like he’s honing in on the source of your pain, ready to eliminate it. He crouches down in front of you, one hand gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him. His touch is firm, possessive, but not rough—not yet.

“Tell me what happened,” he says again, his eyes boring into yours. “Who did this to you?”

You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you should even bring it up. You know how Rafe gets—how he reacts when someone hurts you. And this time, it wasn’t just anyone. It was someone close. Someone you thought was your friend.

“It’s—” You start, but your voice cracks, and you quickly bite down, trying to steady yourself. “It was…Becca.”

“Becca?” The name drops like a lead weight between you two, and you can see the recognition flare in his eyes. Becca, your friend for years, the one person outside of him you’ve always trusted. The one person he’s always been wary of.

Rafe’s grip tightens slightly, his thumb brushing over your jaw in a way that makes your pulse race. His voice drops to a low, dangerous whisper. “What did she do?”

You hesitate, but the words spill out before you can stop them. “She—she said some things. At the party tonight. She called me out in front of everyone, said I was using you, that I only stuck around for the money, the attention. She tried to turn everyone against me, Rafe. She made me look… weak.”

His face hardens instantly, and for a split second, you see something flash in his eyes—something dark and lethal. The kind of rage that makes your breath catch in your throat, even though you know it’s not directed at you.

“She said what?” His voice is so low now, it’s almost a growl.

You nod, swallowing hard, feeling the burn of humiliation all over again. “I don’t know why she did it. I thought she was my friend.”

Rafe lets out a slow breath, and the air around him feels like it’s vibrating with the intensity of his anger. He stands up abruptly, pacing the room, running a hand through his hair as if trying to keep himself from completely losing it. But you know it’s too late for that.

“I’ll fucking kill her,” he mutters under his breath, but you hear every word. “I’ll ruin her life.”

“Rafe—” You start to protest, but he cuts you off with a sharp look.

“No. No one talks to you like that. Not her, not anyone.” His voice is clipped, sharp, like he’s barely holding back the full force of what he’s feeling. “You don’t deserve this shit. Not from her, not from anyone.”

His protectiveness borders on obsession, but you can’t help but feel a strange comfort in it. It’s twisted, but there’s something about the way Rafe reacts to these things—like the whole world can burn as long as you’re safe—that makes you feel… seen. Important.

“I’m going to fix this,” he says, more to himself than to you, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “She thinks she can talk shit about you? In front of everyone? Humiliate you? Nah. She’s going to regret it. I’ll make sure of that.”

“Rafe,” you say softly, trying to reach for him, but he’s too far gone. You can see it in the way his eyes have glazed over, already plotting, already deciding exactly how he’s going to destroy Becca.

And part of you wants to stop him. Part of you knows that this isn’t the answer, that maybe you should handle it differently, like a normal person would.

But you’re not normal. Not anymore.

“I’m serious,” he says, turning to face you again, his expression deadly serious. “No one fucks with you. Ever.”

His intensity washes over you, and for a second, you feel like you can’t breathe. But at the same time, it fills you with a sense of power, knowing that he’s willing to go to these lengths for you. That he’ll protect you at all costs, no matter how destructive it gets.

You stand up slowly, crossing the room until you’re in front of him, your hand resting on his chest. “Just… don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

Rafe’s eyes flicker down to you, and for a brief moment, you see a softness there, a flicker of the boy beneath all the rage and chaos. “I won’t. But I’m not letting this go.”

You nod, knowing there’s no point in arguing with him. This is who he is—who you both are. Twisted, obsessive, reckless. But it works. Somehow, it works. And deep down, you don’t really want him to let it go.

A few months later, and somehow everything goes to shit for Becca.

It starts small—things that could almost pass as bad luck. First, her new car gets keyed, deep scratches across the side that no amount of buffing can fix. Then her social media accounts get hacked, posts disappearing, weird comments being left on other people’s pages, like someone is deliberately screwing with her life piece by piece. She brushes it off at first, because Becca’s tough. She’s the type of girl who bounces back quickly, who doesn’t let things get under her skin.

But then things escalate. Quickly.

She gets benched during a big volleyball game when her coach suddenly pulls her aside and questions her attitude. The team captain claims Becca’s been talking shit about the coach behind her back, stirring up drama with teammates. The problem is, Becca never said any of it. But now, she’s got a reputation, and people are starting to look at her differently.

Still, she fights through it, determined not to let it get to her. Becca’s always had her eye on the prize: her full ride to UC Berkeley, where she’s set to play volleyball at the college level. That’s her future. Her escape. Nothing can touch that.

Until it does.

The call comes one morning, out of nowhere. Becca’s shaking as she listens to the voice on the other end of the line, her heart plummeting as her coach tells her the news.

“We’ve received the results of your recent drug test, Becca,” the coach says, his voice stern but somehow apologetic. “I’m sorry, but you’ve tested positive for a banned substance.”

Becca’s head spins, her mouth going dry. “That’s impossible,” she blurts out, panic rising in her chest. “I don’t do drugs. I don’t—”

“I know this is hard to hear,” the coach cuts her off, his voice firm. “But the results are what they are. This disqualifies you from the scholarship and the team. UC Berkeley has revoked your offer.”

The words hit her like a sledgehammer. She feels the ground tilt beneath her, everything she’s worked for slipping through her fingers in an instant. She argues, pleads, tries to explain, but the decision is final. There’s nothing she can do.

And that’s when she starts to see it, to feel the weight of something much bigger pressing down on her. This isn’t just bad luck. It’s not a coincidence that her life is unraveling at the seams. No, this feels orchestrated, like someone’s been pulling the strings behind the scenes, watching her fall apart.

That someone is Rafe Cameron.

Rafe can be physical—he wouldn’t hesitate to swing on anyone he deems a threat. But Rafe isn’t a dumbass. He knows that not everything should be dealt with by violence. Some things are better handled with precision, with patience, with slow, deliberate destruction. He knew that punching Becca in the face wouldn’t satisfy him, wouldn’t give him the kind of control he wanted over the situation.

So instead, he used his connections, his money, his influence, all of the tools at his disposal to dismantle her life bit by bit. A hacked account here, a few whispers to the right people there. He didn’t need to lay a finger on her to destroy her. He just needed to plant the seeds of doubt, to set off a chain reaction, and then watch it all come crumbling down.

The drug test? Easy. A little slip of something into her drink at a party when she wasn’t paying attention, followed by a tip-off to the testing agency. The rumors about her trash-talking her coach? Carefully spread by a few well-placed texts to her teammates, pretending to be her. Her social media? That was just for fun, a way to throw her off balance and make her feel like her world was spiraling.

And it worked.

You know all of this, of course. Rafe never bothers to hide things from you. In fact, he’s proud of it, proud of the way he’s dismantled Becca’s life without so much as breaking a sweat. He tells you about it one night while you’re lying together, his arm draped lazily over your waist as he whispers in your ear.

“She thought she could fuck with you,” he murmurs, his voice dark, satisfied. “But now she knows. No one touches what’s mine.”

You should feel guilty. You should feel something for Becca, after all those years of friendship, of thinking she had your back. But all you can feel is a sick sense of satisfaction, like the universe has finally corrected itself. Becca messed with the wrong person, and now she’s paying the price. And as twisted as it is, you can’t help but feel a little thrill at how far Rafe was willing to go for you, how meticulously he destroyed her without you even asking him to.

“You really did all that?” you ask, your voice low, a smirk tugging at your lips.

Rafe shifts beside you, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your neck. “I told you, baby. No one fucks with you and gets away with it.”

You turn your head to meet his gaze, and there’s something dangerous in the way he looks at you, something possessive and wild. It should scare you, but it doesn’t. Not anymore.

Because the truth is, you like it. You like how far he’s willing to go for you, how far he’s willing to take it. There’s something intoxicating about the way he loves you—twisted, obsessive, and all-consuming. It’s not healthy, not normal, but it’s yours. And that’s enough.

You press your lips to his, kissing him fiercely, feeling the heat between you two ignite once again. Rafe kisses you back just as hard, his hands gripping you tightly, like he’s reminding you that you’re his and no one else’s.

As you pull back, your breath ragged, you glance at him, your voice barely above a whisper.

“She won’t come near me again.”

“No,” Rafe says, his eyes gleaming with a dark satisfaction. “She won’t.”

And in that moment, you both know it’s true. Becca’s done.

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hoonieyun · 21 days ago

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Hello I know your requests are closed rn but when they’re open I was wondering if you can do reader doing the trend when she tells enhypen that she can’t pay rent this month (lmk if you don’t know the trend I’ll link it!)

i can’t pay the rent ⊹˚. ♡

pranking enha hyung line by telling them you can't pay the rent for the month

warnings: profanity, kissing, teasing/pranks, consensual touching, 18+ genre: fluff… just fluff idek LOL notes: OKAY I SWEAR NOWTHIS IS MY LAST REQUEST IM DOING TIL NEXT YEAR LOL yall keep sending good ones and i dont wanna make you guys wait but PLS save the requests for next year, i promise i will do them all hehe anyways thank you for requesting!! i thought this was so funny because my sister did this on her husband recently and he was so dramatic about it, telling her that they had to sell her car LOL anyways enjoy and as per usual… not proofread lmao

husband!heeseung ⋆˚ʚɞ – wc: 484

– you thought this prank was hilarious, especially because it seems like the people’s reactions were always so dramatic and you knew heeseung’s would be similar, if not funnier. heeseung was going to be arriving home from work anytime soon so you sat at your dinner table waiting for him to walk through your front door.

in just a few minutes, you could hear his keys enter the lock and turn the doorknob. heeseung was very hardworking and as much as you fought him on the fact that you were okay also working, he wasn’t going to let his wife do another day of corporate work if he had anything to say.

the year before you two got married, heeseung received a huge promotion, one that allowed him to take care of the two of you without you having to ever lift a finger ever again. you were grateful for him and you did your best to be a good wife even if heeseung was okay coming home to ramyeon and cuddling in bed all day.

“hi, my love. how are you?” he says, throwing his shoes off and making his way over to you. he quickly presses a kiss on your temple and you release a pent up sigh to make your distress believable. “what’s wrong?” heeseung asks, squatting down so that he could be more eye level.

“hee… promise you won’t be mad at me?” you say and he nods at you, slightly pouting and looking at you with his big doe eyes. he was unsure of where this was going and the contrast to your usual bubbly personality was a bit worrying to him.

“i don’t think i can pay the rent this month…” you say, jutting out your bottom lip with a slight quiver. heeseung looks like he’s just heard the saddest thing ever, like you just confessed the utmost heartbreaking statement. “baby, that's okay! please don’t worry? we’ll make it work…” heeseung says, pulling you intoa hug anf rubbing your back softly. you accept his hug but can’t stop yourself from bursting out into laughter. heeseung suddenly pulls you away, holding your shoulders and looking at you with a suspicious expression, his left eyebrow raised as he stares at you.

“babe? why are you laughing! we can’t pay rent and you’re laughing– wait…” heeseung begins to say and you realize that he’s caught on. “you don’t even pay the rent! i do!” heeseung says, shooting up straight and posing with his hands on his hips with a scolding face. “sorry hee!! i had to prank you because your reaction is too cute!!” you respond and he smirks with a chuckle, falling into your arms with a hug. “you’re lucky i love you!” heeseung says before the two of you share a kiss.

“now… where’s my ramyeon!” he says, picking you up bridal style and walking over to the kitchen.

husband!jongseong ⋆˚ʚɞ – wc: 663

– everything about jay just screamed gentleman. he always opens doors for you, when it rains he carries the umbrella predominantly on your side more than his, he keeps you on the side furthest from the street when walking on the sidewalk, he showers you in love and compliments, and never lets you forget how much he loves you.

he respected your wishes when you said that after getting married you no longer wanted to work, in fact, he encouraged it. he had wanted you to stop working for a while now because of how shitty your boss was but you ultimately waited until you were married to do so. he wanted you to stay home and work on your dream home, encouraging you to use his card for whatever you needed so that you could make the house you two got together, the one of your dreams.

so when jay was at work, you were at home doing projects to do just that; make this house your dream home that you and jay would spend the rest of your lives together in. you were taking a break from gardening in the backyard when you came across the tiktok and because you knew that jay was weak to your pranks, it was going to be easy to pull one over on him.

you finish doing the rest of your garden for the day just as jay was coming home from work. you greet him at the front door, sliding your gloves off and giving him a kiss on the cheek instead of a hug so that you wouldn’t get his clothes dirty since yours was slightly covered in dirt.

“hi baby, can we talk?” you ask and the atmosphere instantly shifts as you grab him by his hand to the kitchen. you pour him a glass of water as he’s taking a seat at your kitchen counter, eyes fixed on you as you walk over to him. “is everything okay, my love?” he asks and you pause for a second as you try to bite back a laugh.

“i don’t know how to tell you this but i can’t pay our mortage this month…” you confess and he looks at you with furrowed brows. “what mortage?” he ask and you tell him the mortage for the house and his eyebrows remain furrowed. “did you buy a new house??” he ask and you couldn’t help but break character. “why are you laughing?? what’s going on??” he asks, even more confused than before and you explain to him that it was a prank you saw but he wasn’t able to move on from your statement, still asking if you had bought another house that he hadn’t known about. “wait so is there another house? do you pay the mortage for that house?” he asks as you try to catch your breath from laughing so much.

“can you be serious? i have no idea what’s going on! do you need me to pay the mortage on this house? it’s okay if you do, you know i’ll help you with anything.” jay adds, proving yet again how kind and generous he was.

“baby, it’s a joke! there’s no other house.” you answer in between laughs and his eyes narrow at you after finally realizing what you were saying while laughing.

“wow, i’m going to need to learn how to stop falling for your pranks. what’s next, you’re going to bring home a bunch of puppies?” and when your eyes widen at his response, he pulls you into a hug while shaking his head; “no, don’t even think about it!” he says, pulling you towards the bathroom.

“but– nope! we are not getting a puppy!” jay says cutting you off. you look at him with a pout and all he can do is place a soft kiss onto your lips. “okay, fine. i’ll think about it.” he says and you cheer knowing deep down jay wanted a puppy too.

boyfriend!jaeyun ⋆˚ʚɞ – wc: 733

– you and jake have just moved into your first apartment together after graduating from college. it was nothing crazy, just a humble 2 bedroom apartment and although you would’ve settled with 1 bedroom, jake insisted on getting two so that you could have a dedicated space for your art. jake definitely made more than you and although it made you a bit insecure that he was always taking care of the finances, he reassures you that he wouldn’t want it any other way.

often telling you that he’s happy to do it if it means you could put all your focus in your passion for your art. he even goes as far as having your art supplies on a refill cycle because he knows how fast you go through them and he doesn’t want you to ever run out so he has them delivered just in time as you’re about to run out of something whether it be a canvas, tools, or a certain color of paint. jake was loving like that.

willing to spend what he needed, no matter the price, just so that he can make sure that you have everything you needed because he was your number one supporter.

you were scrolling on tiktok, procrastinating on a piece, when you scrolled into the trend and it seems after seeing that first video led your algorithm to show you similar videos 8 more times before you decided that you would try and prank jake. you often tried to prank jake because his reactions were always cute and dramatic but you could tell whenever he was able to catch on so for this one, you prepared yourself. going over a small script in your head about how you would say it and what responses you would have for whatever jake could possibly say in return.

so, when jake got back from work you walked out of your little art studio and welcomed him home with a hug and kiss on the lips. “hi, pretty. how was your day?” he asks and when you tell him that you were stressed and a bit anxious, he immediately drops his work bag and holds you closer. “what’s wrong?” he asks and you slowly you pull yourself out of his grip so you could look at him– bad idea because his eyes seemed to carry so much love and adoration for you in them that you could get lost in them.

“yn?” he asks and you shake yourself out of the trance of looking into his doe eyes.

“jake, i don’t think i can pay the rent this month… baby i’m so sorry!” you respond, throwing yourself back into his arms and burying your face into his chest to show him just how bad you felt and you could feel jake hesitantly put his hand on your back.

“pay the rent?” he asks and you nod your head against his chest. “my love, no offense but i pay the rent not you.” jake says and when you look up at him his head is slightly tilted to the side with a furrowed gaze.

“we all know i make the big bucks around here, baby!” jake says proudly and although it didn’t offend you at all, you pretend to be hurt by softly hitting him on the chest and pouting.

“hey!” you yell while crossing your arms.

“it’s true!” he says, pulling you back into his arms while rocking the two of you side to side. “what are you even talking about? i thought we agreed that i would cover our rent so you could focus on getting your art exhibit together?” he asks and you couldn’t even prolong the joke anymore because he was being too sweet.

“yeah, i know… it was just a stupid prank i saw on tiktok.” you confessed and jake laughs at you endearly. “aww… not your best one babe.” he says and this time you hit him again because he was teasing you. he let out a small “oww” even though it didn’t actually hurt.

“come on! i’m just playing!” he says, now he was looking at you with a pout and your scowl transforms into a smile. the two of you shared a tender kiss before preparing dinner. he was your hard working and caring boyfriend and you were his “little picasso if picasso was sexy”; his words not yours.

boyfriend!sunghoon ⋆˚ʚɞ – wc: 835

– sunghoon, although usually very quiet, was very mischieveious and silly when the two of you were alone. he often played harmless pranks on you like hiding and waiting behind corners and jumping out when you got close, placing fake plastic bugs in unsuspecting spots for you to find, or just randomly having an outburst of energy and screaming that would startle you.

and although you would tell him that you hated being scared or surprised, you secretly loved this goofy side of him because it brings out the biggest smile on his face whenever he sees your reactions. even when you do get scared, which is almost all the time, he makes it up to you by cuddling up close to you and whispering loving things into your ear until the two of you fall asleep.

so, when your best friend sent you the tiktok and said you should get revenge on sunghoon for scaring you just the day before, you didn’t hesitate to dwelve into the tiktok trend to find inspiration on how you could really sell the story and try to prank sunghoon the way he pranks you.

sunghoon would be getting home from work soon, he was a part of the IT team of a large scale company and you loved how smart he was, his cute face was just a bonus. when he got the job and moved the two of you to a bigger condo closer to his work, the two of you agreed that he would take care of the rent if you took care of the smaller finances like groceries and esstentials.

at first you were a bit reluctant because you didn’t want it to come off like he was taking care of everything but sunghoon soothed your worries and told you that if he were to ever let you take care of the rent, his parents would be highly disappointed in him for letting his lady do that. as time passed, you slowly became comfortable with sunghoon’s job and how it did provide more than enough for the two of you. you didn’t really work, you often would help out at your family’s floral shop but it wasn’t anything to sunghoon’s big tech job; something you’re very grateful for… and of course, him.

“honey, i’m home!” sunghoon announces as he enters your shared condo and you stay in place, slightly hiding in the blanket so it looked like you had been having a gloomy day instead of running outside to greet him like you usually do.

sunghoon quickly makes his way to your shared bedroom when you don’t come out to greet him and he finds you on the bed, in a fetal position and hiding under the big fluffy white blanket. “honey, are you ok? you look sad…” sunghoon says softly and his tone of voice tugs at your heartstrings, almost making you back out of the prank.

you mumbled something but because you were hiding under the blanket, he couldn’t hear you so he gently pulls the blanket off to reveal you, now hiding shyly behind your hands.

“what’s wrong?” he says, grabbing your hands and placing them in his, gently rubbing circles on your knuckles with his thumbs.

“hoon… i’m so sorry but i can’t pay the rent this month.” you say, finally making eye contact with him, giving him sad puppy eyes and when sunghoon’s blank face doesn’t change for a moment except for a few blinks, you start to believe that you’ve totally convinced him… wrong.

“baby… i’m gonna hold you hand when i say this– you’re broke and you’ve never paid the rent a day in your cute little life.” he says, flashing you his cheeky smile that showed his fang like canine teeth. your jaw drops in shock at his response, prompting you to shout an empty “i hate you” at him as you grab the blanket and return to hiding underneath it.

“noo, you looove me!” sunghoon says, grabbing the blanket once again to reveal a pouty version of you.

“i buy you those creepy furry thingies you like, i buy you all your favorite snacks, and i pay for this lovely condo so you can have a beautiful home.” sunghoon says, getting closer with each word and finally placing a kiss on your lips.

“hey! the labubus are not creepy…” you mutter and the both of you look over to your vanity where there sat a pink labubu.

“okay, yeah they’re kinda creepy– but i was trying to prank you because you always prank me but i guess it didn’t work.” you confess and he pats your head, brushing some of your hair out of your face.

“don’t worry baby, your cuteness makes up for your bad pranks.” he says with a laugh before lunging out of bed, just in time as you try to lunge at him; starting a cat and mouse chase around your condo until one of you, you 99% of the time, gets tired.

copyright 2024 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned. if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

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luvergirl-866 · 1 month ago

Note

what about a one shot where azzi gets hurt (nothing too serious) and paige just worried about her and takes care of her tons of fluff and maybe some smut at the end? just paint bring the ultimate gentle gf

not a lot, just forever

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count - 3.6

content - illness/menstruation, language, implied sex, azzi having everyone wrapped around her finger

a/n - a little smth to tide yall over for sll chap 8!! this took me like all day, idk why lol. obviously i went off prompt, that’s my bad 😭 azzi doesn’t get injured but like close enough, and no smut sorry 😔. very much inspired by the fact that azzi has been sick lately and the injury scare last night, just thought we all needed a little fluff after that bc whew! anyway, i hope yall enjoy!!

Azzi is smack in the middle of a perfect dream—in which she and Paige disagree about something and Paige is completely silent while Azzi explains all the reasons she’s right—when her alarm brutally awakens her.

“Nooo,” she groans into her pillow. Her voice comes out all croaky and the word scratches painfully at her throat on the way out. Two warning signs of what she knew was coming—she’s sick.

To be sure, she tries to take a deep breath in through her nose, and fails. She must’ve been breathing through her mouth all night with how congested she is.

Suddenly overtaken by an aggressive coughing fit, Azzi fishes under the pillows for her phone, alarm still buzzing annoyingly.

Somehow, her phone must’ve found itself under Paige’s pillow because after a quick search, Azzi realizes it’s certainly not under her’s.

Sighing, Azzi shoves at Paige’s shoulder, trying to move her but the girl is dead weight when she’s asleep.

“Paige,” Azzi whispers, shaking her now. “Move your big-ass head.”

Paige groans similarly to how Azzi did a few minutes ago, then rolls onto her stomach, unhelpfully clutching her pillow closer. “Turn it offff,” she whines quite babyishly, for a girl who claims to be the ‘masc’ in the relationship.

Azzi rolls her eyes. “I’m trying, it’s under your pillow.”

“No it’s not,” Paige whines.

“Yes it is,” Azzi says, shoving Paige over. “Seriously, it’s getting annoying, you have to move so I can turn it off.”

“Ughhh,” Paige says dramatically, but then she turns onto her side, giving Azzi access to the pillow, and promptly falls back asleep.

“Why, thank you, your highness,” Azzi grumbles, finally finding her phone and turning off that god-awful alarm.

It’s in the silence of the room that she realizes a headache has started to form at the base of her head. Perfect.

She’s already been in bed for too long—if she wants to get dressed, do her hair, and have enough time to drag Paige out of bed and get her ready so they’re both on time to practice, she needs to get up now.

Doing her best to ignore the searing pain in her throat, head, and lungs, Azzi climbs over Paige—who doesn’t move, nothing more than a lump under the covers—and crawls out of bed, turning on the bedside lamp. The warm light illuminates the room and Azzi goes to the closet, trying to find comfort in the monotony of her morning routine. But as she bends down to reach inside the drawer which is dedicated to her underwear, she feels an aching soreness in her legs and pelvis—partly to do with the suicides Coach made them run yesterday, but mostly to do with the fact that Paige was insatiable last night, not stopping until Azzi tapped out after their fourth round.

At the time, it was hot and felt so, so good. Now it makes her groan when she straightens up, and she glares at the lump sleeping peacefully under the covers.

“All your fault,” Azzi grumbles to no one as she gets dressed, because if she can blame her sore legs on Paige, then why not blame her sickness on her, too? “So damn horny all the time. ‘Azzi, it’ll be fun. Azzi, I’ll be gentle. Azzi, just one more, we haven’t even used the strap yet.’” Azzi laments her girlfriend’s convincing tone from last night, that sly smile looking up at her from in between her legs, those hands that bent her over the bed after making her legs shake so much she could barely stand, and pummeled into her so feverishly Azzi was pretty sure she could feel it in her guts. “Damn,” Paige had sighed after they were finally done, “good thing we’re both girls. Because you’d prolly be pregnant with, like, triplets after that.”

Last night, in her fucked-out haze, it had made Azzi laugh. Now, the memory just makes her roll her eyes, kneeling down to check that both she and Paige’s gym bags have everything they need in them. “Not even how that works,” Azzi mutters bitterly. “Dumbass.”

Once that’s done, Azzi leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind her because she may be sore and annoyed but she’s always going to make sure Paige gets her sleep.

When she gets to the bathroom, the door is closed, and Azzi knocks lightly. “‘S me.”

“Azzi?” comes Jana’s equally exhausted voice on the other side of the door.

“Yeah.”

The door opens, and the glare Jana directs toward her once they’re face to face startles her. “What—“

“Sounds like you lost your voice,” Jana remarks, quite sassily if you ask Azzi.

“Yeah, I—“

“Probably from all that screaming last night.”

Azzi freezes, then bites her lip sheepishly. “We tried to be quiet.”

“Paige was quiet,” Jana says, stepping to the side to let Azzi into the room. “You, on the other hand…”

“Uh, oops?” Azzi responds, flashing an apologetic smile.

As usual, it works, and Jana shoves her affectionately as Azzi steps into the bathroom.

“Wait till y’all are alone if you’re gonna be trying to make babies,” Jana teases. Then she studies her face and says, “You don’t look too good, Azaray.”

Azzi nods, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror as she wets her toothbrush, seeing herself for the first time this morning. Her cheeks are flushed, bags heavy under her eyes, lips pale. “Think I finally got sick.”

About two weeks ago, a couple of the girls got sick with some kind of flu. Of course, with the team spending all their time together, the rest of the girls followed soon after. Paige was one of the last to get sick, last week, and as soon as she did Azzi knew any hopes of staying away from this virus were out the window. Considering the fact Paige and Azzi would live inside each other’s skin if they could, if one of them gets sick, both of them do.

Paige got better over the weekend. Now it’s Tuesday and Azzi becomes even more annoyed at the thought that Paige gave her this illness.

“You’re still going to practice?” Jana asks, watching as Azzi brushes her teeth.

Azzi nods.

“Why?”

Azzi shrugs her shoulders, then says around the brush in her mouth, “Can’t mish it.”

“We all skipped when we got sick,” Jana says.

Shrugging again, Azzi spits into the sink, rinses off her toothbrush. “Season’s starting soon. And I’m already not cleared to play right away, I don’t wanna get pushed back even further.”

Jana raises an eyebrow at her. “And you think Paige is gonna let her precious princess go to practice with the flu?”

Azzi looks at herself in the mirror, and is reminded that she is, in fact, a grown woman. A grown woman who is independent and knows her own limits and can make decisions for herself.

“Paige can’t let me do anything,” Azzi replies, sure of herself.

Ten minutes later, she walks back into Paige’s bedroom to test that theory.

The room is still dark, as expected, and also as expected, Paige is still snuggled up in her purple fluffy comforter.

The sight of her girlfriend, wrapped like a burrito in bed with only her face uncovered, blonde hair splayed over her pillow, makes Azzi soften a bit. She’s honestly like a baby when she sleeps, and it gives Azzi cuteness aggression.

Finding it a little harder to be annoyed at her horny, sickness-spreading girlfriend, Azzi flicks on the light, smiling when Paige grumbles faintly.

Azzi sits on the edge of the bed, brushes her hand through Paige’s hair like she does every morning. “Hey,” she whispers.

Paige snuggles further into the comforter. Now she’s only visible from the nose up.

“Time to get up,” Azzi continues.

Paige doesn’t respond. Not a good sign.

“You only have twenty minutes to get ready, babe,” Azzi insists, brushing her fingers gently over the face she has touched and kissed too many times to count. “You really gotta get up.”

Again, there’s no response, but when Azzi leans down and presses a kiss to her cheek, Paige finally cracks her eyes open, sleepy smile gracing her features.

“Oh, good, you’re not dead,” Azzi says sarcastically.

Paige wriggles out of the blankets just enough to free her arms, wrapping them around Azzi’s neck and pulling her down for a kiss.

She only manages a peck before Azzi wrestles out of Paige’s grip, pulling away. “We can’t.”

Paige closes her eyes against the overhead light and pouts. “Why?”

“Because I’m sick,” Azzi replies, brushing her thumb over Paige’s bottom lip, “you big baby.”

Paige’s eyes miraculously fly open at this, and though she’s still squinting, she looks incredibly more alive than she did two seconds ago. “For real?”

“Yeah,” Azzi sighs. “Could only avoid it for so long, I guess.”

Furrowing her eyebrows, Paige pushes up onto her elbows as if to get a better look at her. “Why’re you up right now? You gotta rest.”

Here they go. Azzi preps herself for an argument, and desperately wishes for her dream from last night to come true. “I can rest after practice.”

Paige scoffs as if she’s just told a joke. “You’re kidding, right?”

“It’s not a big deal, I feel fine,” Azzi tries, but then her body betrays her and she coughs so hard she nearly doubles over.

Paige is wide awake in an instant, shooting up to rub her back, not even complaining about how she doesn’t wanna get up or it’s so cold in here. “Az, you’re definitely sick.”

“Thanks,” Azzi coughs into her elbow, “I didn’t know.”

“Sassy, too,” Paige remarks. Azzi tries to glare at her but it must not pack a punch because Paige just gets this sympathetic look on her face. “Aw, baby. Just lay back down, lemme call Coach and tell him what’s goin’ on.”

“No, Paige,” Azzi croaks, grabbing her wrist to stop her from reaching for her phone. “Don’t tell him I’m sick. He won’t let me come in.”

“Yeah,” Paige says, using her free hand to grab her phone despite Azzi’s protests, “that’s kinda the point.”

“You don’t get it,” Azzi replies, trying to reach for Paige’s phone but Paige stands up, holding it over her head and out of Azzi’s reach.

“Oh, yeah?” she asks, looking down at her. “Try me.”

“I wanna play,” Azzi says emphatically, the bright light of the room and the stress of talking making her head full-on pound now. “And if I miss practice I might be…”

“Pushed back further,” Paige finishes, lowering her arm when Azzi nods. Azzi doesn’t make a reach for the phone, though, and Paige kneels down in front of her, resting her arms on Azzi’s knees. “Your head hurt?”

“No,” Azzi lies.

Paige licks her lips, reaches a hand up to cup Azzi’s cheek. “I’ll grab some Ibuprofen, okay?”

Paige is up before she can respond, throwing some clothes on and leaving the room while Azzi sits helplessly on the edge of the bed. She glances at her phone—they only have fifteen minutes to get ready now.

When Paige comes back, she has two pills in one hand and the thermometer in the other, a worried frown playing on her lips.

Azzi stands up, trying her best not to let show how dizzy it makes her. “You don’t have to take my temperature, it’s okay.”

Paige only hands over the medicine, watches Azzi swallow the pills down.

“Okay, we’re good,” Azzi says, gently pushing Paige away by her chest. “No need for the thermometer. I’ll get through practice fine.” Even though she’s pretty sure she needs something a lot stronger than Ibuprofen to cure the aches and pains all over her body.

“If you have a fever, you can’t go to practice,” Paige says, stepping toward Azzi with the thermometer clutched almost menacingly in her hand. “It’s not allowed. Those are the rules.”

“Well, I don’t,” Azzi says, though she’s sure she does. And that’s exactly why she shies away when Paige lifts the thermometer to her forehead.

“Az, stop it,” Paige says when Azzi grabs her wrist, ducking away from the object. “You gotta let me.”

“Did you not hear me, earlier?” Azzi asks, and then there’s a cramp in her abdomen, sudden and painful and all-too familiar. “Oh, my god. No way.”

“Wha…? Azzi,” Paige says as Azzi rushes past her, following her on the way to the bathroom.

She tries to go in with her but Azzi shuts the door and locks it, rushing to the toilet and pulling her pants down to find exactly what she feared.

She started her period. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“Az?” Paige calls through the door. “Yo, you good?”

Azzi nearly cries. This is it. She gives up. She’s going to sit here and melt forever and Coach will never let her play basketball again and Paige will leave her for some other girl who isn’t sick and gross and bloody.

“Did you die?” Paige asks. “Baby, you gotta respond so I know you didn’t die.”

“Didn’t die,” Azzi responds weakly. Though she might as well have.

“Okay…” Paige says slowly. “So, can you let me in?”

Azzi gets the strangest sensation then—in which she both wants to yell at Paige to go away and simultaneously feels as if she needs to be curled up in Paige’s arms within the next five minutes or else she might…well, die.

This is basically how she feels every time she starts her period. She’s sure it’s very fun for Paige.

Situating herself, Azzi stands up, clutching at her stomach, head pounding—it’s like the Ibuprofen doesn’t exactly know where to help. She washes her hands and then hesitates near the door, unsure whether she wants to emerge, but that need for her girlfriend wins over her annoyance at the world and she opens the door.

Paige doesn’t have time to react before Azzi is walking directly into her chest, arms limp at her sides while she resists the urge to scream into Paige’s sweater.

“Uh…” Paige says, wrapping her arms tentatively around Azzi’s shoulders, “you okay?”

“Started my period,” Azzi says, voice muffled in Paige’s shoulders

“Oh. That’s early,” Paige notes. Azzi can nearly hear the smile in her voice when she says, “Least you’re not pregnant.”

There’s another thing about Azzi on her period: her patience for Paige, which is usually plentiful, dwindles into nothing. And suddenly her stupid jokes and tendency to poke fun don’t seem endearing anymore.

The fact that every major organ in her body seems to be fighting for their life right now doesn’t help, either.

“It’s not funny,” Azzi says, pushing away from Paige’s grasp.

Paige reaches for her. “Hey, sorry, I—“

“Call Coach,” Azzi grumbles, sentence interrupted by a painful cough as if to taunt her, “don’t even care if I can’t play anymore.”

It’s the farthest thing from the truth, of course. The thought of this little flu being another thing getting in the way of her playing makes her stomach turn. But she doesn’t say that, just marches right past Paige and into the bedroom, shutting off the light before jumping into bed, where she plans on pouting for the remainder of the day.

Paige doesn’t follow her in, and Azzi can hear the soft noise of her talking out in the hallway. Probably calling in, telling them Azzi won’t be at practice. The faint sounds of her voice turn that switch once again, and she wants Paige by her side more than anything else.

A few minutes pass before Paige is coming into the room. She comes to the edge of the bed and leans over it, placing her hands on either side of Azzi’s head as she hovers over her. “Baby, I gotta go to practice. I asked Coach if I could stay here but that was a hard no.”

Azzi would be shocked if otherwise. Even so, she dreads spending the next couple hours without Paige by her side, because Paige is the only person who can ever really make her feel better.

Still, she nods, doing her best to manage a smile up at her girlfriend. “Okay. I’ll just go back to sleep, it’s okay.”

Paige nods, leans down to brush their noses together. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Paige.”

Paige presses a kiss to her lips. Azzi doesn’t have it in her to protest about germs. “You’re not mad at me?”

That gets Azzi to really smile, a little. “No. Just cranky.”

“Mm.” Paige gives her another kiss, then one on her forehead, before straightening up. “I’ll be back soon, mama. I’ll bring some stuff back for you, okay? Just lemme know what you want.”

Azzi nods. She almost watches Paige leave in slow-motion, like a sad scene from a movie. She can almost hear the background music.

Rolling over, she tries to relax, hoping for some more sleep. But her eyes stay wide open.

——————————————

Two and a half hours later, Paige comes home to find Azzi unloading the dishwasher.

As soon as Paige steps through the front door, Azzi freezes, a guilty look on her face. Paige’s mouth drops open as if affronted.

“Yo, what’re you doing?” Paige asks, kicking her shoes off.

Azzi steps away from the dishwasher. “Uh, just thought I’d do some cleaning up…”

“Bro,” Paige says. It’s perhaps the most disappointed bro Azzi has ever heard.

“I’m sorry!” she says, leaving the kitchen fully to meet Paige at the door. “I couldn’t get back to sleep and I needed a distraction.”

Paige walks past her to set the two bags of groceries she brought home on the counter. “You need to rest,” she corrects. She rounds back on Azzi, taking her by the hips and walking them toward the couch. “You won’t get better if you don’t rest.”

“I took DayQuil,” Azzi pipes up, as if it’ll earn her brownie points.

Paige gives her a look and then sits her on the couch. “Lay down.”

Dutifully, Azzi does, allowing her body to relax as much as possible even while everything hurts.

“Can’t believe you did chores,” Paige goes on as she walks back to the kitchen. “‘S not even your dorm.” She sounds almost as if she’s muttering to herself now as she goes through the grocery bags. “Walk in and my sick girlfriend’s doing the dishes. The fuck.”

“I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of it,” Azzi says, lifting her head up. Paige gives her another look and she lays back down.

Usually (that is, outside of the bedroom) Azzi is the one who tells Paige what to do. But today, she’s too weak to argue.

“It’s a big deal because I told you to relax while I was gone.” Pulling out a tray, Paige arranges all of the groceries on it. She carries it over to Azzi, and it’s a little haphazard with snacks and medicine and a glass of water but it’s also perfect because Paige did it.

“Thank you,” she says when Paige sets the tray on the coffee table.

“Uh-huh,” Paige replies nonchalantly, already leaving the room on the hunt for something else. When she comes back, she has a heating pad and the blanket that Azzi has dubbed as her favorite in hand. “Which one? Heating pad, blanket? Both?”

“Both,” Azzi says without hesitation.

Paige is already plugging the heating pad into the wall.

She places it on Azzi’s lower abdomen, exactly where the cramps hit her the worst, and then throws the blanket over her.

“And here’s the remote,” she says, passing it over once Azzi is situated. She pushes her hand into Azzi’s curls, scratching gently at her scalp as she kneels by her. “What else you need, baby? I can go make you somethin’, or if I forgot anything from the store I can run back.”

Azzi shakes her head, reaching her arms out for her girlfriend, who is quick to pull her into her arms and hold her there. “My girl,” Paige murmurs in her ear, rubbing her back soothingly. “I’m sorry you’re not feelin’ well, baby.”

Azzi hums into her shoulder. “Feel a little better now.”

“Yeah?” Paige kisses her temple, then pulls away. “You wanna turn on the TV?”

Azzi nods, and Paige sits down, laying Azzi’s head in her lap, one hand stroking her pulse point while the other flicks through Netflix.

Azzi stares up at her girlfriend, wonders how she got so lucky. (She has no idea Paige thinks the same thing every time she wakes up to Azzi’s gentle voice in the morning.)

“Paige,” she says, and Paige looks down at her immediately. “I love you.”

Paige smiles down at her, leaning over for a sideways kiss. “I love you, mama.”

“You should stop kissing me.”

Paige kisses her again. “I already got sick, you cant give it to me.”

“I don’t know if we should rely on that.”

“You could have the black plague or some shit,” Paige says, pulling Azzi’s head up now to kiss her a little more deeply, “and I would still kiss you.”

Shaking her head fondly, Azzi scoots up, Paige’s legs opening to make room for her as she sits sideways between them, resting her head in the crook of Paige’s neck. She smells good, freshly showered, hair still a little damp. Paige picks a movie before hooking her arm around Azzi’s back, using her free hand to hold the heating pad in place over her tummy.

“Getting sleepy?” Paige asks after a few minutes.

Azzi nods, hums into her neck. “Little bit.”

“Go to sleep, pretty girl,” Paige says, hand soothing up and down her back, and Azzi is finally right where she belongs, safe and secure and at home in Paige’s arms.

For the first time all day, her body stops aching. And finally, with Paige’s gentle voice whispering sweetly in her ear, she gets some much-needed sleep.

#azzi fudd #paige bueckers #pazzi #pazzi fics #wcbb #uconn wbb #wbb #fluff #pazzi fluff #wlw fluff #established relationship #no effort was put into this #no beta we die like men

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anisespice · 8 days ago

Note

Hey girl got a request,so like let’s say bonten is having a meeting with a new criminal organization gang that came in to come up with a deal,and while we are just sitting in the back looking at our new sparkly items Koko bought us,and the new criminal organization gang calls us out saying it’s disrespectful and rude calling us names..And bonten doesn’t like that one bit..So yeah I want them to react to that

hope it makes sense 😔😍🤺🤺

SAVE ME FROM MY WRITER'S BLOCK, ANON - HERE WE GO, NO MARIO. Hope you enjoy and thank you for requesting~!

pairing: bonten x fem!reader

warnings: mature language, misogynistic undertones (from another gang), implied violence, guns mentioned, reader is criminally oblivious (love that for her), guard-god!bonten supremacy, sanzu gets his own warning lol and i think that's it.

notes: yall. can you believe i actually wrote this in one sitting? without stopping?? wild concept for me, haven't been able to do that in a good minute *knock on wood*, but i hope you enjoy! more stuff coming soon ♡

tagged: @fantasycantasy , @spacegirl05, @neverlandlostchild , @darks-pet-shadow, @captaincyberqueen

Upon the arrival of the recently developed organization, officially known as Kaiju, things already weren’t off to a great start. They were late, clocked at about twenty minutes past schedule. Excuses poured from them like a broken faucet, blaming their tardiness on traffic, which the members were willing to give the benefit of the doubt, some more than others. Then, they were unprepared. Scrambling about with their half-assed introduction mixed with a sloppily thrown together presentation, it was insulting at worst.

Here they were, biggest in the game, offering an opportunity to help underground operatives make a name for themselves..and this is how they want to showcase their potential? Mikey waved it off when his number three voiced this flaw, merely chalking it up with inexperience–Everyone has to start somewhere, right?

But. Finally came strike three. The one thing, the most damning thing they could’ve ever done to have mercy jump right out the window and straight to hell, was when one of their foolish members spoke ill of you.

It was supposed to be taken as a joke, something controversial in a room amongst men, locker room talk if you would. Unfortunately for him and the rest of his team, Bonten didn’t see it that way. What was said wasn’t important, but the intent behind it was enough to make them hostile. And Kaiju would soon realize it too late despite no one laughing on that side of the room. If anything, the room grew colder. No matter who you looked at, venom consumed their gazes, a deathly aura building from their leader all the way to the advisors. The only reason no one reached for their gun, mowing them down in an array of bullets, was because you didn’t hear the disrespectful comment.

All gazes shifted over to you briefly, sitting pretty in your little area they set up just for you. They liked having you close by, even during something so mundane as a meeting, watching you happily paint your nails or open up all the shiny new trinkets they bought you. Kaiju should count themselves lucky that you had headphones on, blissfully listening to music, not a care in the world.

And it was going to stay that way.

By now, the dumbasses before them caught on to their grave error. Especially when Sanzu made a show of santuring over to you upon Mikey’s silent request, swiftly gathering you in his arms and carrying you to the head of the table. You squealed slightly in surprise, headphones slipping off your ears in the process as you held on to the pink-haired gangster, confused smile on your face. “Haru! You scared me!~”

“Sorry, doll. Boss wants ya to sit right here.” Sanzu gently sets you down on your awaited throne, Mikey having made room by scooting his chair back, welcoming you with open arms.

Still confused though not complaining, you merely shrugged before making yourself comfortable, snuggling more into the leader before putting your headphones back on. Mikey held you possessively, arms locked around you like a shield, placing a small kiss to your forehead. Message was sent; message soon received.

Kaiju’s leader began blubbering out more excuses, reprimanding his subordinate in the same breath for saying such a thing about Bonten’s trophy wife–

Guns are drawn instantly and zeroed in on every last one of them. Stunned to horrified silence, as were his underlings, they all stood frozen in fear as they stared down multiple barrels in every angle. Koko scoffed, “You must got a death wish, huh?”

“She’s no trophy, have some goddamn respect,” Mochi added, earning a sardonic chuckle from Ran.

“Big ask from idiots who have none. Couldn’t even bother to show up on time, now they wanna make jabs at our [_____]. I say we’ve been more than courteous, wouldn’t you agree, otouto?”

“Tsk. Let’s just waste ‘em. We’d be doing the streets a favor.”

“Great idea,” Sanzu and Takeomi answered in unison, the former sounding twice as eager.

The only ones placid were Kakucho and Mikey, one quietly observing whilst the other made sure you remained ignorant to the situation, angling you in his lap to where you were practically straddling him, phone still in hand as you watched a music video your favorite k-pop group dropped recently. The only sounds in the room were the panicked breathing of Kaiju and your melodic humming to the song. Mikey patted your head, satisfied that you were still your happy self. If any of those bastards made your smile drop even a centimeter, he would have their bodies fed to the dogs. With a small sigh, he and Kakucho eventually made eye contact. Then, he gave a small nod. “You were right. Should’ve killed them after that shitty presentation. Handle it.”

Kakucho gave a curt nod, then signaled for Kaiju to be apprehended. With guns still aimed at them, leaving them no choice but to grovel for mercy, the Haitanis along with Mochi and Takeomi forced them to march out of the room, and to their inevitable deaths, not wanting to startle you with the sight of bloodshed so early in the morning.

Sanzu was already dialing up reinforcements to help with cleanup and disposal, face beaming as he practically skipped out of the room. Kakucho gave one last look to you, then Mikey, then politely bowed before closing the door behind him on his way out. You jumped slightly, the song ending right when the door slammed shut, making you lift one of your headphones and look around in shock.

“Oh, is the meeting over already?”

Mikey reached up to thumb your lower lip, then reached up to playfully pinch your cheek. You grinned, gently swatting him away, so oblivious to the men you inadvertently sent to their demise all to protect that very smile. The former blonde shook his head, leaning on the armrest to rest his chin atop his knuckles. “No. Ended up being a waste of time. Don’t think you would’ve liked them.”

You chortled. “Doesn’t matter if I like them. It’s your business, silly.”

“Mm, you are our business, angel. And we like you more.”

#🍁wasabi #POSSESSIVE BONTEN IS HOT #*bangs gavel*#tokyorev #tokyo revengers #tokyorev x reader #tokyo rev #bonten x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev #tr x reader #mikey #sanzu #kakucho #kokonoi #kanji mochizuki #takeomi akashi #ran #rindou

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mariasont · 9 months ago

Text

Office Sleepover 2 - A.H

a/n: had sm fun writing this one yall

im so down bad for him ugh

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

part one here! part three here!

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader flashes hotch AGAIN, drinking on government property lmao, drunk reader, suggestive comments

wc: 3.2k

You were restless, to put it simply. Every conceivable activity within the BAU had been exhausted, and you had explored every nock and cranny of the office, leaving no corner untouched. At this point they should start paying you for tour guides because you'd be an expert.

You were bored, frankly, and lonely--the team had been on a case all week and you were stuck here. How Garcia managed was beyond you--the walls seemed to close in on you as stir craziness took hold. You kept busy with work, offering as much help as possible while staying put, but it really wasn't the same.

You missed the team, and a particular member's absence you felt just a tad more, though you wouldn't admit it. Thankfully, they were supposed to be back any second now. While Penelope had a special place in your heart, the thought of sitting through another round of her and Kevin's awkward flirting was almost too much to bear. Without Hotch to keep it in check, it was all the more excruciating.

"Bye, Kevin," you chimed in unison, your voices intertwining just as the door clicked shut behind him.

Once you were sure he wasn't coming back, you shot Pen a knowing glance, arching an eyebrow as you pointed one of her fuzzy pens at her.

"Ease up on the death stare, will ya?" Penelope chided, as she wheeled her chair back to her computers, her finger twirling towards you. "You get so broody when the boss man's gone."

You lobbed the pen in Penelope's direction. "No," you replied with a huff. "I get broody when the whole team leaves me behind."

"Gasp," Penelope declared, placing a hand over her heart. "Can you believe it? They're genuinely concerned for your well-being. The audacity!"

"Okay, but seriously, what's the bigger priority here--my life or my sanity? Because it's a fine line," you said with a shrug, pushing your chair back dramatically.

But, before the chair could gain any momentum, you found yourself abruptly against the wall, your head cushioned by an unexpected softness. Without a moment to comprehend, your chair was spun, your eyes growing impossibly wide as Hotch's belt appeared abruptly in your line of sight. You raised your eyes to meet his.

"Your life, I would wager," he said evenly, "but then again, I might be a little biased."

You sprang to your feet, too quickly, your foot catching, sending you lurching forward. Almost instantly, Hotch's hand was securing around your arm, preventing you from landing straight on your face.

"Oh, Hotch, sir, hi," you said, flustered and slightly disoriented. "I didn't realize you guys were back."

"We just got back," he said, his hand falling away from your arm, and you hated yourself for how you felt a subtle coolness that replaced the comforting heat of his touch. "Do you have those reports I asked for?"

"Oh, absolutely, they're ready at my desk," you assure. "I'll bring them to your office in a sec."

As he nods and exits, your scoop up your belongings from Penelope's desk, raising a finger. "Don't even say it, Pen."

You ignored the way she cackled as you left, moving to your desk to grab the needed papers. You attention was captured by Spencer and Emily standing by her desk. Without a second thought, you wrapped your arms around them both, pressing them against you.

"Ugh, I missed you guys so much."

They both laugh, their hands taking you in quickly as you lean against them.

Emily grins, ruffling your hair as she nudges you. "A week away and you're this clingy? We'll have the start weaning you off us, huh?"

"Don't tease," Spencer starts, his hand resting on your shoulder, "But out of curiosity, how many times did you check our desks while we were gone?"

"Too many times to count," you admit begrudgingly, a sheepish grin on your face. As you glance up, your eyes catch Hotch's through the glass pane. "Oops, almost forgot why I came down here."

Approaching Hotch's office, you tap on the door frame and enter. "Here ya go, sir." you offer, extending the documents toward him.

Your fingers lightly touch as he takes the papers, and for a moment, you're rooted to the spot, the brief contact sparking a surge of disarray in your senses. God, it's almost beyond belief that one man could have this kind of effect on you.

Hotch nods his acknowledgement. "Thanks," he murmurs. As you pivot to leave, he adds, "Could you sit down for a moment?"

You cast a teasing look over your shoulder. "I hope I'm not in trouble," you say. His expression doesn't change. "Wait, am I? Because that would definitely be enough to push me over the edge, sir."

"No, you're not in trouble," Hotch assures you. "I've received updates concerning your case."

You lowered yourself into the chair, hands perched in your lap, your eyes wide as you met his gaze. "Please tell me it's good news because I'm starting to forget what my own bed feels like."

"You've been here just over a week," Hotch states, matter-of-fact.

You blow out a breath, arms crossed over your chest. "Hotch, it's scary at night."

He clears his throat, "Anyway, it's good news. We've got a lead on the hitman, though it's not the all-clear you're wanting."

"Well, that's something at least," you concede with a nod. "But I don't get why I can't be involved in this investigation."

As Hotch opens his mouth, you jump in, deepening your voice to copy his. "Because you're too close to it."

He regards you steadily, clearly not amused.

"Yup, okay, I'm done, sorry, I'm leaving now," you relent, getting to your feet quickly and striding towards the door, but a hand beats you to it, closing it abruptly and effectively barricading you in.

With a quick turn, you ended up flush against the door, Hotch's hand resting against the wood just above your ear. You felt like you were short-circuiting, your eyes growing wide as they met his. He says your name, but it doesn't quite register--too engrossed in the heady scent of his cologne, the pressing warmth of his body, the nearness of his chest, so close that an inch's movement could mean a soft kiss to his neck. Not like that would be totally inappropriate or anything.

"What?"

"I said, I'm worried about you."

You wanted to kiss him, man, you really wanted to kiss him. You bit the inside of your cheek to refrain from doing so.

"Why?"

It was barely audible, more air than sound, not daring to disturb the space too much, afraid of him suddenly becoming aware of just how close he was.

"You're very quick to make light of things, to make jokes, but I'm asking you to be real with me here. What are you feeling?"

His hand left the door, settling on your shoulder, his thumb hovering just shy of the hollow of your neck. Unconsciously, you found yourself leaning into the gentle pressure.

"That sounded sarcastic, Hotch," you noted, your tongue briefly sweeping across your lips, which seemed to dry out as you talked. "You're not implying my jokes need work, are you?"

His lack of response and narrowing eyes made you cave.

"Okay, fine, Hotch. You want the truth? I'm scared, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? That I have nightmares every night? That I can't sleep?"

Your breaths came faster, teeth meshing tightly as you stared up at your boss. His hand found your cheek, his thumb sketching a path across your skin that ignited a trail of goosebumps over your whole body, making you hyper-aware of your every pore.

"What can I do to help?"

Stay with you, kiss you, fuck you--numerous thoughts ran raced through your thoughts, but none of them seemed wholly appropriate.

"N-Nothing, Hotch, really, I'm okay. It's not something that can be fixed, which is why I didn't say anything. Plus, everyone on this team has been through worse. I can handle it. I'm tougher than I look."

"I know you are, but I—," his words were cut short, a sudden knock at the door silencing him mid-sentence.

His hands fell away from you, but the sensation lingered, the heat of his touch seeming to brand you, marking where he had been. You ran a hand through your hair in an attempt regain some form of composure, just as he opened the door to reveal JJ.

Her eyes darted between the two of you, finally focusing on Hotch. "Sorry, guys, I have that footage from the press conference--is that what you needed?"

"Yes, right." Hotch nodded, pulling the door open further for her, then returning his attention to you, observing your flushed cheeks and uneven breath. "We'll continue this later, okay?"

"Yeah," you exhaled sharply before ducking out of the room.

You need to get a grip, or maybe a Xanax, probably both.

Once the office had emptied, leaving you alone, you sat pitifully on your bed. It was Friday, but there was not much cause for celebration when you were stuck here, surrounded by stale office air. You sprawled out on the mattress, tracing the patterns of the popcorn ceiling overhead. If someone didn't figure out this hitman situation, you were going to take him out yourself.

Not really, that would definitely be a death wish. Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of muffled shuffling outside your door. Sitting up, you slid into your slippers and stepped out into the hallway.

"There she is!"

You snickered as Penelope extended her arms with jazz hands, while JJ and Emily lifted their arms to show off their wine stash. Gratefully grabbing a glass from Emily, you pulled them all into a group hug. "I can't help but feel like we're about to be the subject of a very specific memo from HR after this."

Giggles from JJ accompanied the wine pouring as you stepped back. "Hotch is surprisingly on board we this—encouraged it even. Can you believe it?"

Warmth dusted over your cheeks at the thought. You wanted to kiss him even more, if that was even possible.

"Trust me," Penelope insisted, shaking her head as she paused for a drink. "I wouldn't dare cross HR again. Once was more than enough."

You wanted to say you were a classy gal, confident in your ability to drink responsibly--it was only wine, after all, not Everclear. But as the night went on, your voice rose a decibel too high, your balance a bit unreliable, and your displays of affection way too unrestrained.

You were already a touchy person, ask any of your team members, but with a few drinks, you're giving high school sweethearts a run for their money in the PDA department.

Your arms were flung around JJ's neck, peppering her cheek with kisses as you sang along to whatever music Pen was playing in between smooches. JJ was laughing, tilting backward on her heels, nearly knocking you both over.

"I love you guys. So so much." you said, each word stretched and muddled as you reached out to Penelope, who happily linked her fingers with yours.

"You are so drunk!" Emily accused, her palms squishing your face as she chuckled.

"'M not," you protested, words stifled by compressed cheeks.

She freed your face to grab more wine, Penelope not far behind, as you situated yourself on your desk chair.

"You know who I also love?" you questioned to no one in particular as you slid your phone out of your back pocket. "Morgan, Reid, Dave, and--,"

You paused, your nose crinkling as you bit down hard on your tongue.

"And?" Penelope pressed, brows raised as she looked at you expectedly.

"Hmm?" You hummed innocently, blowing a kiss her way as you shrugged off her question. "I'm gonna call Morgan."

Your eyes darted down to your phone, only to find the room swirling like a carousel. It took a heartbeat to register--someone's voice was already coming from the speaker.

"Hello? Morgan? How'd you know I was going to call you?"

"It's Hotch."

Your eyes grew comically large, a hand flying over your mouth, smothering the laughter that threatened to fall. "Hotch! It is so late! Why are you calling me?"

You shushed the group with a finger to your lips, the girls' curious eyes on you as JJ practically crawled towards you to eavesdrop.

"You called me." He paused. "Are you okay?"

"Hotch," his name was more of a whine than anything as you tossed your head back. "I'm fine, like, the definition of A-Okay. I'm with my friends and we're all kinds of okay."

You shot Emily a thumbs up.

"Good. Okay." Another pause. "Maybe drink some water, yeah? No more wine."

You gasped. "Agent Hotchner, I am a federal agent of the government. I know when I should be cut off."

"Oh, my god, get her off the phone."

You don't know who said it, but it sent you spiraling into another round of giggles, the phone slipping through your fingers while JJ pounced on it.

"Hey!"

She held up a hand, keeping the device just out of reach.

"Yeah, she's pretty drunk." JJ said, then frowned. "Hotch, listen she's more of a lightweight than we realized." You slumped against the chair. "Yes, sir. Goodnight, sir."

JJ ended the call and placed it back into your hands. "I cannot wait until you remember this in the morning," she sang, before casting a glance to the others. "Also, a heads-up--Will's almost here."

"No!" It came out louder than intended, almost a shout, as you stood, sending Spencer's pens tumbling. "Whoopsie." You latched onto Penelope, murmuring, "Stay here, don't leave me."

Penelope's laughter rang out, her hands cradling your head. "Worry not, I've set the security guy straight--if you get even a scratch, I'll make him regret the day he was born."

"See, this is why you're my favorite," you whispered.

"Heard that."

Will eventually texted JJ, letting her know he had arrived. As the they waited by the elevator, the doors slid open to reveal Hotch standing there. A squeal escaped you, matched by his single raised eyebrow surveying your condition.

Your cheeks were painted a rosy tint, hair in a delightful tangle, and your shirt hanging askew off your shoulder--you were an adorable spectacle of disorder, and he found himself suppressing the small smile that threatened to reveal his amusement as the other girls filed into the elevator.

He had made them promise not to leave until he got there, not keen on the idea of you being left alone like this. It might have been an exaggeration, but when you butt dialed him and he heard the sound of your slurred speech it had him envisioning all sorts of worst-case scenarios. Sure, he had seen you drink during team nights out, but nothing like this.

"Hotch!" You shouted, moving to him with a rapidity that might be, well definitely, was ill-advised.

He stood motionless as you looped your arms around his neck. You smelled so nice--a sweet hint of vanilla instead of the anticipated alcohol. After a brief hesitation, his hands slowly found their way to your waist.

"What are you doing here, silly?" You ask, pulling back just enough to see his face. "Wait a second, please don't say we have a case."

A subtle smile played on his face, his hand not budging from your back. "No, there's no case."

"Oh, good," you murmured, your head bobbing lightly in approval. The light touch of your fingers at the base of his neck spread a warmth through him. "You want a drink? I think there's still some wine left."

"No, I'm fine," he said, clearing his throat and taking a step back. "I think you need to get to bed."

Your hands lingered at his neck, softly exploring his hair as you looked up with a smile that made his pulse race unexpectedly.

"Is that an order as my boss or a suggestion as my friend?"

He raised his brow. "Both?"

"Well, okay," you shrugged as you took a step back. "Wanna see my room? I don't think you've seen it yet. Everyone else has."

Without giving him a chance to object, you dashed down the hallway. He trailed behind with reluctance, knowing just how dangerous this could be for him. He was all too aware that he shouldn't be here, let alone in your room in your current, wine-fueled state.

You fumbled for the light, fingers slipping before finding the switch as you stumbled into the cramped room. It was pink. Very pink. The pullout couch was lost beneath a mountain of pillows, excessive by any standard. Your closet was bursting, and a collection of gadgets and gizmos had overtaken the room, but he liked it, a lot.

Your collapse onto the bed sent pillows scattering to the floor, his mind wandered about the unseen details of your bedroom at home, and even more so, the thought of what a shared space between you two might look like.

A sigh escaped him as he stood over you. "How about changing into your pajamas first, hm?"

"No thank you."

"You're going to hate yourself if you wake up in jeans tomorrow."

"Fine." You pouted, propping yourself up on your elbows. "Top right drawer please."

He shot you a look but obliged anyway. There was something about that puckered out bottom lip that made him think he'd do just about anything you asked, like he was putty in your hands. Pulling out the most conservative pair of pajamas from the sparse selection, he made a mental note to ask about that later.

"Thank you," you said with a smile. He really liked your smile. "You know, you're really such a nice person, Hotch. Or—Can I call you Aaron? Just tonight?"

He felt a sudden emptiness in his chest as the air was knocked out. "You can call me Aaron. Just tonight."

A high-pitched squeal escaped you as you began shedding your clothes. He offered a stifled cough, quickly averting his gaze and nudging the door closed with his free hand.

"Well, Aaron," you said plainly, "I really like you."

The effort it took for him not to pivot on his heel was immense, particularly when your voice sweetened like honey at the mention of his name.

"You're a great boss."

"I like you too, Agent."

"No, you don't, well, I mean—you can turn around now," you said. "You like me, but I really like you. It's not the same."

As he turned to face you, he could sense his cock twitching in his pants, a physical reaction to the sight of you fumbling with your shirt, your tits exposed in full view, as if begging to be touched.

"Christ," he hissed, gripping the ends of your shirt and yanking down. He was sure you were going to hate yourself in the morning. "You're not making sense, and I think you need to sleep it off."

"Yeah," you replied, your eyes warmly meeting his as you gave him a lopsided smile. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen you in such casual clothes, Aaron. You look very handsome."

He needed to get you to bed before he did something he'd regret. He softly nudged your shoulders backward, offering no verbal response. You surrendered to the motion with complaint, your remaining strength insufficient for anything else.

Softly, he settled to blankets around you, taking a moment to study you, with the intention of memorizing you completely (even the part of you that was far too drunk).

"Goodnight, Aaron."

He summoned all his restraint to keep from crashing his lips into yours. He smoothed back your hair, allowing himself that as he shot you a tired smile. "Goodnight."

He hadn't even touched the doorknob when your plea reached his ears. "Aaron, I—, will you stay with me?"

And who was he to deny you anything?

next part!

taglist: @chronicallybubbly

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fanfic #hotchner #ssa hotchner #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #Spotify

941 notes · View notes

leafostuff · 5 months ago

Text

Messes in Distress [Ft. Weeekly Jihan and Zoa]

Tags: BFH, 'Besties'!Zoa&Jihan, No plot all horny, Threesome, Double thigh riding, Double boobjob, Blowjob, Dirty talk, Fingering, Surprise Creampie, Anal, Pussy licking/eating, Mutual orgasm. no beta we die like man

Author's Note: as my august release i have to say: this is the filthiest fic I have ever written, throughout the entire writing process (which only took me two days) I have constantly felt both horny for those two gorgeous girls, but also inspired to keep writing and not stopping at anything.

as its also quite apperant, this is my first ever threesome smut, which I had tons of fun to write, so I do hope you will enjoy reading this fic that I worked very hard on.

PS: yes this was the post that I quickly deleted and responded with "YALL SAW NOTHING", my hand slipped on the post note lol

================================================

This party never looked as colourful and vibrant as it is right now.

Or maybe its just the rave lights Jeonghoon, your best friend installed for his house party. After all of the finals you had to suffer this semester, a proper party is really what you needed, especially in such a big house like his which has more than enough space to party just in the backyard.

But back to what you were saying, there is so much for you to see from you view at the barstool chair. From the football players swimming inside, the cheerleaders eyeing them from the other edge of the pool, probably gossiping about the latest drama or whatnot, some frat boys drinking their 7th shot of the night while dancing to the DJ's (yeah your friend also hired a DJ for the party) music like there is no tommorow, and while some may look at this and call it anarchy, you find it quite enjoyable looking at it.

Then you see them

Two girls, one blondie, the other black haired, neither you have seen before (maybe you seen the blonde one in your 2 am walks back to your dorm, fetching groceries? Eh you don't really know), both of them wearing white tops that expose their bellies and denim blue jeans, both tailored to show their curves from head to toe.

They both look happy, eyes closed while both their bodies sensually move to the rhythm of the music. It's hard not to shift your focus to them, the way their bodies stand closer than usual while they look into each other ,how they lean their faces closer, engaging in a short kiss, or how-

Realize that the black haired girl caught your eyes, the blonde girl joins her, both smiling while their eyes wander downward.

you are a bit puzzled until you look down and realize; your pants now form a visible tent. You try to look away but its too late.

the two girls now exchange a look between each other before leaving the dance floor and heading toward you, their smiles are those of good girls, however you could feel their intentions are anything but.

Eventually they both stand in front of you, meanwhile

"You are Jeonghoon's friend, right?" The blonde asks, her voice softer than you thought.

"Uhhh...yeah? Why?"

"Great" the black haired girl joins the conversation. "We need a favor" she adds, her smile is even brighter than before.

"Sure" you answer, a bit confused "What favor you two need?"

They both grin widely before the blonde speaks again. "A BIG favour..." You could feel her fingers travel upward across your left thigh.

Meanwhile her friend leans her face to your right ear while her fingers mimic her friend's movement but on your right thigh and then her hand finds itself on your currently hard clothed member.

"A favour...only YOU can help us with..." She whispers in your ear.

Take a look at the two girls again, they are even prettier from close as each feature that you saw back then is now presented to you at high definition. From their silky and smooth hair, eyes that look like trouble but you are still in place as if you are frozen and their chests that look a size bigger than what you thought they were.

Their smiles which you could swear you could see them licking their lips.

Their soft, luscious looking red coloured lips that are oh so inviting...

You are not sure if the alcohol is talking right now but honestly, you don't care anymore. "Sure, I don't mind helping you two with your...favor".

The girls' smiles grow wider as you stand up from the barstool, take each one's hand and lead them inside the house and upstairs, thank god everyone else is outside.

"i never really got you two’s name" you said, navigating through the halls of the 2nd floor until eventually you find the door to Jeonghoon's room, but just as your hand gets close to the knob the two girls pin you to the wall, the black haired girl attached her mouth to your neck, alternating between licks, kisses and bites causing you to moan lightly.

Meanwhile the blonde puts her lips on you, engaging in a steamy makeout session while her tongue grazed against your teeth, as if asking for access to your mouth which you humbly accept. It's hypnotic how her sweet lips feel on yours, how her tongue explores inside your mouth, how as soon as she finds your own she initiates a sensual dance of tongues causing both of you to quietly moan.

You both eventually part lips, gasping for air, take a look at one you just kissed, her blonde hair now looks messier than it was when you first met her.

"heh...that was good" she speaks between pants, "anyways, i am Jihyo, and the one who is opening your jeans down there is Hyewon" look down, she already finished popping the last button, leaving you only in briefs.

"Well what are we waiting for, lets get inside" you say, the two girls giggle cutely while you open the room.

in the middle of the room is a king sized bed, big enough to have the three of you on it with pillows on the gar edge of the bed. The two girls lightly push you into the bed before joining you as each one straddles herself on each thigh of yours while their hands work together to take your shirt off your body, throwing it somewhere.

Now the three of you are in a loop.

Starting with Hyewon capturing your lips with hers while her hands rest on the left side on your chest l, admiring both your chest and abs. At the same time Jihyo latches her lips on the right side of your neck, delivering kisses from your shoulder all the way to your earlobe, there eliciting an audible moan directly to your ear before going back to her masterful attack of your neck, meanwhile her left hand wraps around your cock, rubbing it up and down in an attempt to get you harder as fast as possible.

Both of them also start to move their bodies back and forth on each of your thigh, letting you feel their friction getting you closer and closer to your first orgasm.

Suddenly, a switch; now Hyewon does Jihyo's job and vice versa, during those loops, your hands go each one to another girl, appreciating their bodies from their soft bellies all the way to their slander backs, then groping one breast of each girl causing both to gasp in surprise.

Eventually after enough back and forth of them pleasuring you, it gets harder for them to continue rubbing your cock as now they leave your lap, with both of their hands on the hem of your boxers. With perfect timing they pull it down, letting your cock pop out of your cock prison, leaving you the first one being fully naked.

"Wow...unnie, its so big" Hyewon says, looking at your member that is covered with some of your precum with excitement,

"Yes baby...he is so big, and all of it...for us" Jihyo responds, leaning into her friend's lips and pecks her lips lightly.

"I do think its a bit unfair i am the only one naked here" you mention the inequality.

"you are right Oppa" Hyewon replies, "i saw you staring at our tits, when we danced outside" she adds, leaving jihyo with a pretend surprise face.

"Is that so baby..." she questions her best friend before turning her eyes to you "Would you like to fuck them first?" the question might as well be rethoric as without any doubt you say.

"I would gladly want that"

"Then let us get started" Jihyo exclaims, letting you inch your body toward the edge of the bed. Meanwhile she goes behind Hyewon, hands grabbing the hem of her best friend's top, slowly pulling in an attempt to tease you slowly about each part of Hyewon's ample breasts, covered in a lacy purple bra until finally the top is completely off causing her tits to slightly bounce at the recoil, the piece of clothing is thrown at one of the pillows.

Now it's Jihyo's turn to discard her top, this time without any teasing, knowing you can't wait anymore for the show to begin as now she joined her friend being topless, only with a black bra as the wall between your eyes and her nipples.

back at Hyewon, she is now popping each button of her jeans while looking straight at your eyes, biting her lip in arousal and winking to you. Look down and see that her matching purple panties have a wet spot in the middle, making it clear to you that she is excited, and that she is waiting.

And she is not the only one as Jihyo also started quickly working on her own jeans, exposing her black panties and leaving the two girls only with their underwear, both their eyes and panties glistening in what can only be described as excitement.

It's sinful how they are both looking at your cock lustfully like it's their favorite meal waiting to be devoured, how they both kneel down to each side of your thigh while their face get closer to their prized possession.

How they both look at you with innocent eyes one last time before defying it forever.

The scene beneath you is filthy; two girls, both equally as gorgeous and sexy, engaging in a full on makeout session, loudly exchanging saliva with the tip of your cock in between receiving the leftovers. Both of their busts envelop the base, moving up and down, left and right in the rhythm of the kiss, even your balls are not left unsatisfied as both their underboobs take care of that part.

"Fuck...girls..." you mutter, only a minute passed and you are already in a haze, looking at the white ceiling, gripping the sheets of the bed to try and gain some semblance of control. You can't help yourself as you release an audible moan, making sure they know how good they make you feel.

"Unnie...I'm getting wet..." The black haired girl whined, pulling away from Jihyo's lips with an audible 'pop', panting to catch her breath before leaning back into the kiss

"me too baby," she breathily mumbles between kisses. "just a couple more seconds, i can feel him getting close ...".

eventually the first round of the white liquid came out, glazing both of their lips and tongues however they dont stop, even when some of your cum falls inside their mouth they continue, mixing both of their saliva with your cum, making both of their face messier by the second.

More cum erupts from your cock, painting the two girl's faces, some even get on their bras as you can feel yourself relieved with each string you shoot, soon enough the two girls release from their makeout session and rise up to sit on the edge of the bed, finally letting your cock rest, but not for long.

"Oh…you are still hard Oppa..." Hyewon exclaimed, cleaning some of your cum on her face before slightly pushing you closer to the middle of the bed, her previously innocent looking smile now has changed into a slutty grin.

“Let me help you”

You don't even need words to show you agree as now hyewon hands go behind her back, letting an audible click be heard as her bra falls onto the bed, giving you a front view of her now hardened nipples.

Jihyo, seeing what her bestie is planning, quickly unclasped her bra as well and throwing it somewhere. Then they both, at the same time take their hands to their panties, quickly lowering them down their thighs, to their legs and then out of their bodies, finally joining you in being fully naked

Just the sight of the two girls' boobs being shown to you in their full glory and the way both of their neatly shaven pussies are leaking is enough to get your throat dry, unable to mutter a single word and only stare at them in awe.

Then, their second round of pleasure begins

Hyewon now leans down toward your shaft, letting her slender finger pump you one last time before her luscious lips envelope around the tip of your cock.

Her first slurp is enough to get you to moan loudly and move your head back in pleasure, then she starts moving her lips up and down at a steady pace, making sure every movement is audible with slurps, licks and everything in between. It's even worse when you see how her deer-like eyes stare directly into yours.

You are surprised to see how big her mouth is, as even though a lot of your cock is inside her mouth, she is still able to take more. Eventually your tip reaches the back of her throat, now deepthroating you

“She is taking you sooo well, isn't she?” You didn't notice when Jihyo snaked behind you, her tits on your back while her hands glide around your pecs. her cloudy lips delivering sweet pecks to your neck and ear as only after processing all of the senses that she delivers you manage to get a small nod and mumble a small “ngh”

She cutely laughs at your attempt at her response. “I bet her lips feel so sweet on your big, thick cock” she whispers directly into your left ear, not expecting a seemingly sweet, adorable girl like her to speak such filth but for some reason, it excites you.

“I can't wait for you to fill both of our good girls holes with your thick, warm and sticky cum, letting you fuck us like your little slu-OH FUCK” but enough is enough as you finally lose your temper, silencing Jihyo by pushing your two left fingers into her wet pussy, your right hand starts groping one of her boobs while your lips connect with her own.

you three are now a mess.

You have Hyewon, her mouth fully coating your hardened shaft with saliva while her hands work diligently to massage your balls and inner thighs. Her eyes aroused by seeing you, fingering and groping her best friend to the points she stop messaging you with her right hand to finger herself to not leave herself out of the pleasure.

You have Jihyo, her eyes closed shut, lost in the sheer amount of pleasure she receives and gives to you, each time your lips leaves her for attacking her neck she shouts a symphony of moans, but not for long before you continue to kiss her again

And then there’s you, feeling like the star of a porn video with two incredibly hot girls. Which you have never met before and now they are naked, hungry for your cock while you fuck them in various ways.

The only way you can describe this moment the three of you are sharing at the moment is heaven in hell.

“I AM SO CLOSE OPPA,” Jihyo shouts into the air, feeling her climax getting closer with each passing second. Yours is also not so far behind, as the suction of Hyewon's lips is driving you crazy.

However just as you were about to release your load into her throat, Hyewon swiftly lets her mouth out of your cock without any gag, she rises from her prone position and hovering closely above your cock, before quickly saying.

“I'm safe”

“Huh? What are you-OH FUCK” You dont have time to react as the deer-eyed slut impales her slick yet tight pussy directly on your dick, you could swear you see tears in her eyes from the pain she is feeling but its quickly replaced with tears of joy, signaling you that she wants this.

“UGHHH, YES” She curses loudly after the first explosion of cum erupts inside her. Then quickly comes the second, the third and even the forth, each pump gets Hyewon to a level of ecstasy she never felt before as she rolls her eyes backwards and lets her tongue hang out of her mouth while her orgasm flows onto the base of your dick.

At the same time your fingers also get coated by Jihyo's own fluids, moaning unintelligible words but it was clear that she was enjoying every second of her high. Eventually your mutual orgasm comes to an end, as you all fall into the bed, both girls on different sides while you are in between them.

For a moment the surrounding goes silent. No club music from outside the house, no chatter from drunk university students, the only sounds the three of can comprehend are each other’s synced up breathing, attempting to recover from your lust-filled haze. Finally, Hyewon gathers enough strength to talk.

“Oppa…are you…done” a breathy question came from her mouth as for the first time tonight, her eyes looked at yours with pure innocence.

You can't help but giggle at her question and lean forward to peck her lips. “I think with sexy you two are…i dont think i will ever be done” you respond.

“Oh, That's great to hear Oppa…” Jihyo interrupted your small talk with her friend. Take a look at her, her hair messy and ruffled, her entire body filled with a mixture of sweat and cum.

“Because…i haven't got your cum inside me yet…” she adds, her hands now go to her hair, smoothing it from any random strands and then parting it in the middle, creating two symmetrical ponytails from each side of her head.

“But…” another pause as she turns herself face down, letting herself gain control as she raises her body up while keeping her arms and knees on the mattress, her soft and curvy ass pointed up and directly at you before saying.

“I want it in my ass”

And just like that, you could feel yourself getting hard at the view, it's not hard to see how Jihyo's pussy is still wet and is leaking on the sheets, telling you that she is ready for her turn, but before you cave in to her request, her eyes turn toward Hyewon.

“Baby…i want to eat you out, i bet Oppa’s cum tastes as sweet as i think…” She gestures to her best friend, quickly Hyewon shifts in front of her face, sitting in a way that gives easy access to her pussy for Jihyo.

Realize that Jihyo's two ponytails are your handles, you grab each one with your hand, the blonde girl looks back at you one last time with a wide smile and shining eyes, signaling to you that she is ready for you.

And with that out of the way, you begin.

Starting a chain reaction, you pull both of Jihyo's ponytails and slam your cock deep into her asshole. In response, she elicits a moan but quickly she inches her tongue toward Hyewon’s entrance licking out some of your cum that was left over which causes Her to clamp her soft and meaty thighs around her best friend’s head and join Jihyo with her moans.

“Fuck, unnie…it feels so good” The deer-eyed girl moaned, quickly getting aroused again seeing her best friend eat her out while being pounded by you from behind.

“I know ugh baby…he ugh is so deep inside ugh my ass” Jihyo tries to mumble to her friend in between pounds from you and licks from her. Meanwhile, you are silent, lost in the cloudy haze of pleasure from how tight her ass is, only sometimes releasing a groan.

Eventually you start increasing your pace, and it seems that Jihyo’s enjoys it, mostly by the fact that she also starts moving her butt toward your dick, letting you hear breathy moans such ‘yes’ or ‘more’ while still having the energy to pleasure Hyewon, who was holding her best friend's head close to her pussy in order to get eaten out more often.

As you start feeling yourself getting closer to your ends, you mutter loudly. “Shit girls, I am gonna cum”.

“Load it in her ngh ass Oppa” Hyewon managed to respond, struggling to not vocalize her pleasure. “I bet my cock-slut unnie would love getting filled by your thick cum, just like you did to my pussy” she dirty talks, getting you one step closer to where they both want you.

“YES, PLEASE OPPA” Jihyo loudly moans while turning her face back to you. “CUM INSIDE ME, FILL MY SLUTTY ASS WITH YOUR COCK, AS MUCH AS YOU WANT”.

And then, you finally cave in to their requests as for the final time of the night, your cock shoots one last string of cum into Jihyo's ass, one last Lick of Jihyo's tongue into Hyewon’s Cunt and one time where Hyewon clamps her thighs on Jihyo’s head the three of you moan from the sheer pleasure that overwhelms your bodies and then you all fall into the bed.

Once again the room is quiet, no one dares mutter a word, you all have enough strength to just look at each’s now with tired yet happy eyes.

And in your mind, only one thought pops in your head, and you know that both Hyewon and Jihyo were thinking about the same thing as well.

“Best. Sex. Ever”

================================================

Started writing in 6/8/2024

Finished writing in 7/8/2024

#kpop fanfic #kpop #kpop smut #weeekly #weeekly jihan #weeekly smut #jihan smut #weeekly zoa #zoa smut #male reader smut #male reader #x male reader

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bbystark · 4 months ago

Text

♡ simon is a bad stalker part 2 ♡

badstalker!simon x reader series - pt one three

♡ masterlist ♡ request more! ♡

summary: in which you meet your stalker, but not in the way you thought. mdni

a/n: the response on my last fic?? omg?? crazy. this is for @madzzz0797 and everyone else who requested! i love yall.

simon isn't someone to be stunned. the dude has seen some shit, not much has the capacity to knock the air out of his lungs.

except you, of course. "i want to meet you."

what in the actual fuck.

the words rattle around his skull, and he has to actually brace himself against the wall.

there is actually no way. he shouldn't be surprised, really. despite the fact that you didn't even know his name, he knew everything about you.

he knew the reason you started seeing a therapist wasn't because you were afraid of something happening to you, it was the fact that you didn't know what was going to happen.

above all else you really just hated not understanding what the "why's" in life. of course you weren't going to the police. only you would be primarily focused on figuring out why he was doing what he was doing, personal safety aside.

simon has no idea how to respond, so he simply hangs up. he's suddenly overwhelmed by the consequences of his own actions. he hadn't covered his tracks well because he somehow simply missed the severity what he was doing.

to him his motive was simple; he found you to be one of the only good things left in this world and it was only natural that he tries to protect you from the bad.

but then he realized that to you, some strange man was interfering with your life and literally sending personal drivers to your rescue seemingly out of nowhere.

again, simon thinks, he's completely fucked.

he weighs his options, like he has any. so far, you've taken the situation relatively well, and it seems like the only way he could do any type of damage control is to give you what you want.

on the other hand, he wants to run for the hills. to ghost you, essentially. but he knows he can't for the same reason he started this whole thing in the first place.

simon had an undeniable need to keep you safe and close.

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

when the line goes dead, you audibly say "what the fuck!?" to no one. he's the one stalking you, and he hangs up? what a dick.

then, as you begin to sober, you realize how much of a fucked up situation you're in. you contemplate calling a friend, spilling your guts about everything. then you realize it's 3am, and you should probably go to bed.

the following week you kind of just... go on as usual. you still feel watched, but for some reason you don't feel it as intensely. you wonder if you spooked your own stalker, and the thought almost makes you giggle.

then you come home one day and you immediately know something is off. your cat doesn't greet you as quickly as usual, (something that started when simon started coming around, he knew how much you worried about the thing being lonely, so he took it upon himself to drop by and give it attention every once in a while).

then you see it, a box of pastry on your kitchen table. you drop your purse on the ground, approaching it like it was an explosive.

a pretty little bow is wrapped around it (simon had seen your pinterest, he doesn't understand the bow obsession, but he knows you would like it)

you open the box, a note taped on the lid. it was your favorite croissants from your favorite bakery, and you shiver a little when you realize the box is still warm.

you snatch the note from the lid, shooing your cat away from sniffing at the croissants.

"i'm sorry. we can meet soon, i promise."

you roll your eyes. you can't believe he's suddenly back with a note and pastries like he's an ex you broke it off with.

and then it sinks in, he said you would meet soon.

almost as if on cue, your home computer chimes.

you pick up your cat, clutching to her like she would be any help in the situation. you open your inbox and pale when you see a blocked email.

you open it, almost dropping your cat when you see that it's a zoom link.

your stalker just sent you a zoom link like you were about to have a business meeting. you click the link before you can change your mind, seeing the little pop up that informs you one person is in the meeting.

there was no way you were about to have a meet and greet over zoom with your fucking stalker.

you immediately close out of the tab and walk away, setting your cat down and laughing at the absurdity of the situation. you laugh like a psycho for a long time, your cat throwing you judgmental looks.

then you stop laughing, and you find yourself sitting in front of your computer with your cursor hovering over the 'join meeting' button.

you check one more time that your camera is turned off and will your shaking hand to click the stupid button.

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

simon watches as you laugh, and it does nothing to help calm his nerves. he silently hopes that you choose not to join the stupid video call because he's not even sure he could get any words out if you did.

the zoom was soap's idea, saying it might take the edge off (and the risk of you calling the cops). simon thought it was stupid but reluctantly agreed at the prospect of being one step closer to you.

he's pulled from his thoughts when the annoying doorbell chime lets him know that you did it, you actually joined the meeting. with your camera off, of course, not that it mattered when simon had your whole place bugged anyway.

his heart stops, he sees you staring at the screen, taking in a scarily large man in a mask and hood. he doesn't know where to put his eyes, much less what to say.

you break the ice for him, "this is way fucking weirder than just meeting you in person."

he wants to laugh, but stays silent, watching as you instinctively lean farther and farther away from your screen.

he watches you for a second before responding. "thought it would be easier like this."

for you or for him, you have no idea. you don't ask about the mask, assuming he just didn't want you to be able to identify him.

"yeah okay. um," he watches your face screw up as you try to find the words.

you settle with a simple "what the fuck?"

you watch him as he shifts in his seat, room dark and giving you no hints as to who he was.

"name's ghost." you scoff.

"i-," he stops and collects his thoughts, "i don' wanna hurt you."

you raise an eyebrow. "then what do you want?" he stays silent.

his silence irritates you, and you spur on. "what's the endgame here, ghost? because it's starting to get real fucking weird, i mean if you're gonna murder me eventually just get it over with because these little acts of kindness are driving me fucking insane."

his callsign coming from your lips sends a thrill through him, and he has to really concentrate to respond.

"...didn't really think about it. just know i want to keep you safe."

you balk at him. you had no idea why you thought he would spill his whole manifesto and confess his every thought to you.

"you know what you're doing is wrong right? being in my apartment, following me around? despite the good things you do for me?"

his entire body warms when you acknowledge the small things he's done for you, he revels in the fact that you know he's taking care of you.

"'spose so." a beat "then why are you doing it?"

he doesn't have an answer for you. "listen, ghost. you're going to meet me in person and you're going to have a lot more answers or else-" you find your voice wavering. "or else i will go to the police."

you don't give him time to respond, you simply end the call and or good measure unplug your computer, like it will somehow distance you from what happened.

you go to your bedroom, sitting on your bed heavily. you were shaking, uncontrollable shivers wracking your body.

you had just dug your grave deeper, in your childish and immature quest to understand you had just given your stalker an open invitation to come to you.

you were so fucked.

#badstalker!simon #simon x reader #ghost x reader #stalker!simon #ghost smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #cod smut #cod x reader #x reader #fluff #stalker x reader

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