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cherienymphe · 1 year ago

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Smells Like Teen Spirit (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

Warnings: NON/DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, attempted murder + suicide, mentions of blood, loss of virginity, underage drinking, jealousy, kook!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ cont.

summary: Being one half of the royal couple of Figure 8 isn't what it's cracked up to be.

The first time Rafe hit you, it was on your birthday.

Like every year, your parents threw you a big party that hosted no less than a hundred people. A good number of those people were friends from school and familiar faces you’d grown up with. The other bunch were family friends that had more in common with your parents than you. You took their pretty cards filled with money and thanked them with a smile, relieved when they scampered off to congregate with the other forty somethings.

It was the same party every year. Half the people of Figure 8 in attendance, an abundance of gifts you could barely keep up with, and a light scold or two from your mother to smile and greet the next person who came in. Your hair was flawless and your dress was the perfect length.

The only difference this year was the presence of a boyfriend at your side.

“Rafe, if my dad sees us, I will never hear the end of it.”

Your tone was light and teasing, and you said it with a smile, but there was a hint of seriousness there. It really didn’t matter how older you grew to be, you were sure you’d always be your daddy’s little girl. The older man already hadn’t been the most excited when you told him you were dating Rafe Cameron, Ward Cameron’s son, and you were positive that the Cameron family’s reputation was Rafe’s only saving grace.

You’d just turned eighteen then after all and was already flaunting your new adult status.

The blue-eyed boy in front of you merely chuckled, tightening his arms around your waist and leaning in to kiss you again. The house and the yard were filled with almost too many people, so you hadn’t hesitated when Rafe discreetly guided you upstairs.

“He’s too busy talking about his new boat, isn’t he?” he wondered. “He’ll talk all night if they let him.”

You lightly tapped his chest, but you didn’t voice any disagreement.

Your back was leaning against your bedroom door, the muffled sounds of some classical music reaching your ears through the wall. Rafe’s hands were tight on your waist, and you both felt and heard him chuckle again, his lips still pressed against yours. Only this time, he kept laughing—softly and to himself—and you gave him a slight frown when he pulled away.

“I was just thinking…” Rafe pulled you close again. “How hilarious it would be if he was going on and on about that damn boat…none the wiser to his daughter getting fucked on her birthday right upstairs.”

This time you hit him a little harder, and Rafe only laughed again.

“You’re not funny,” you scolded, deflating a little as you pulled away from him. “Way to ruin the mood.”

You said it quietly as you sat down on the edge of your bed, but Rafe heard it clearly, and when you looked up at him, you recognized the look on his face instantly.

“Funny,” he started, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning against the door. “Mentioning sex usually has the opposite effect on most people.”

You rolled your eyes with a turn of your head, looking towards your window. The atmosphere was different, now, and you didn’t know if it was your fault or Rafe’s. He joked like that sometimes, and you knew it, so you could recognize that maybe you were being too sensitive.

The topic at hand, however, was a sensitive one for you.

“I really don’t want to have this fight, right now,” you mumbled.

You could feel his gaze on you, but you didn’t return it, determined to just stare down at the people in your yard. The air was thick, the tension even thicker, and you reached up to rub your arms, trying to rid them of the goosebumps that had appeared. Rafe hated being ignored, and you knew that, but you couldn’t bring yourself to continue the conversation because you knew what was brewing.

Rafe was the perfect boyfriend. He was pretty—the kind of pretty that even some girls would be jealous of. He came from the kind of family that taught him about manners and respect. He never hesitated to do what he could to make your life easier despite growing up wanting for nothing. You didn’t think it was possible for an already spoiled girl to be spoiled some more until you started dating Rafe and he proved you wrong. He treated you like a princess, so yes. Rafe was the perfect boyfriend.

Mostly.

“I’ve been really understanding, you know…”

Rafe’s voice was low, and your gaze dropped to your lap.

“…but we’ve been dating for what? Eight months?”

You swallowed, eyes burning.

“Do you know how hard Topper and Kelce would laugh at me if they knew my girlfriend of almost a year refuses to have sex with me?”

You scoffed, finally looking at him, brows pulled together.

“You make it sound like I’m punishing you,” you breathed. “Rafe, this has nothing to do with you, I… I’m just not ready.”

“…and still no ETA on when you will be, huh?”

You blinked at him, lips parting at his callous tone and words. You looked away, blinking back tears because you would hate it if you cried on your birthday of all days.

“You’re being an asshole.”

You whispered it, and you heard Rafe huff.

“I’m not trying to be,” he told you, and you heard him move closer. “…but come on. I get it…”

The bed dipped as he sat down next to you, and you felt his hand on your face, fingers grazing your cheek.

“You’re nervous, and it seems scary, but you’re treating me like I’m some stranger on the street, and not…your boyfriend. You know I’ll take care of you. I always take care of you, and that’s why I don’t understand it,” he bit out. “I treat you like gold, and here I am, eight months in and wondering if you even feel the same way.”

You whipped your head around to stare at him in disbelief, looking between his eyes. You didn’t know how he could be serious, but as you gazed at him, you realized that Rafe was very serious. You took a moment to scoot away from him just a tad.

“I show you everyday how much you mean to me, Rafe…but because I won’t have sex with you that means I don’t love you? So just forget all the other stuff, I guess,” you sneered.

Rafe reached for you when you started to turn away, shaking your head and lightly pushing at his hands. Today was your birthday, and you were fighting with your boyfriend…because sex was something you just weren’t ready for. You snatched your arm out of his hold, standing on unsteady legs.

“When you first brought this up, I told you then that I wasn’t ready, and you made it clear you were okay with waiting. Was that a lie?” you asked him, meeting his gaze.

Rafe ran his hand down his face, huffing to himself.

“No, but I just didn’t think I’d still be waiting almost half a year later.”

He was standing, now too.

“So, why are you? No one’s forcing you to stay here, Rafe,” you sadly told him with a shrug. “You don’t have to be with me if sex is that damn important to you. There are plenty of other girls out there who will happily give you what I don’t want to.”

You crossed your arms over your chest.

“…and I know because I see the looks they give you…and the looks they give me.”

You were used to envy. You’d been on the receiving end of it all your life. Growing up on this side of the island guaranteed that from birth, but you also knew it was because your standing was only rivaled by Sarah Cameron. If Rafe’s sister were anyone else, you might have found yourself involved in some one-sided rivalry, but Sarah was a lot like you.

Just a girl born into fortunate circumstances.

However, what you weren’t used to was envy because of the man you loved. When it came to your house and your lifestyle and everything else, it never bothered you because no one could take those things from you. Rafe, on the other hand… You knew what he was like and what he was used to. It was why you’d been very honest about your sexual history and lack thereof from almost the beginning. If Rafe was going to leave you for someone else all because you wouldn’t have sex with him, you would have rather he do it early.

Not now…not eight months in because now you loved him, and the thought made you want to cry, and it would take just as many months to get over him.

“If I wanted any of those other spoiled bitches then I wouldn’t be here,” Rafe told you. “Besides, you think I’m just going to walk away with nothing after investing so much time and money and energy into you?”

You reared back at that, eyes widening just a tad, and Rafe seemed to realize how that came out. He sighed, reaching for you just as you stepped away from him. You heard him curse when you left the room, ignoring the sound of him calling your name as you hurried to mix yourself in with all of your guests downstairs.

Rafe talked about you like some business investment he was waiting to get a return on. It hurt, a lot, and while you wanted to believe he hadn’t meant it like that in his head, you couldn’t help but to wonder if that was really how he saw you. Your mother smiled at you when she saw your face, none the wiser to your temporary absence. Your own smile was forced as she introduced you to their new golfing buddies.

You didn’t know when Rafe came back downstairs, only quickly glancing away when your eyes connected with his after some time. If your parents noticed your distance from him, they didn’t comment on it, and after a while, you barely noticed it yourself. You immersed yourself in your friends, halfway listening to boyfriend troubles and semester woes.

This was the only thing you and Rafe ever fought about. Plenty of your friends had boyfriends before who tried to pressure them into doing things they didn’t want to do. You were always the friend to tell them to dump them without hesitation, so why hadn’t you done the same? Was it because Rafe was so perfect in all other aspects of your relationship? The back and forth hadn’t ever been so serious before…not until tonight.

As you sipped on the drink you weren’t supposed to be having, you remembered the hurt you felt when Rafe implied you didn’t love him. What a crazy thing to say. You treated him just as well as he treated you, never mind the fact that you told him every day how much you loved him…but because you wouldn’t fuck him that meant otherwise?

It was enough to make you angry.

“Finally stopped hiding from me…?”

You tensed up for half a second, relaxing with a sigh as you heard him come closer. You were out by the water, now, sitting on the boat dock with one leg swinging. It had been nothing but just you and your thoughts for a good thirty minutes, and you guessed it took that amount of time for Rafe to realize you were no longer in the house.

“I don’t know yet,” you honestly told him.

“I didn’t mean it like that. You know I didn’t,” Rafe quietly said, getting straight to the point.

“…but I don’t know. You don’t even think I love you just because I won’t have sex with you. For all I know, that’s exactly how you see me,” you mumbled.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Says the guy ruining my birthday!”

You were looking up at him, now, tearfully, and you shook your head. Saying it aloud made you realize just how shitty it was, and you sniffed, pulling yourself to your feet.

“Just go home, Rafe…”

He stopped you from walking by him, and you ignored anything he was trying to say. The more he leaned in, that was when you smelled it, and your frown deepened at the stench of alcohol on his breath. You didn’t know why the smell made you so angry. It was a party, after all, but maybe it was the fact that if anyone of the two of you deserved to drown their sorrows in booze, it was you. Not Rafe. Pushing at his chest, you scoffed.

“One argument…and you’re already getting drunk?”

You jerked your face away from his hand, glowering at him.

“Don’t you want to at least wait for Ward to give you the daily disappointment speech?”

The slap wasn’t as hard as it could’ve been, but it was hard enough to make your face burn.

You were staring at the water from when your head had whipped to the side, and when a nightly breeze blew by, kissing your skin, only then did the dull burning sensation fade away into a painful one. Your lips were parted in shock, and you were slow to reach up and touch your cheek. The silence was loud, and when you finally looked at Rafe, he looked as shocked as you felt.

All of your breath had left you, and your brain was short-circuiting, desperately trying to reconcile your boyfriend with the same guy who’d just slapped you. It didn’t seem real, and yet the dull pain you felt said otherwise. A few tears escaped against your will, and it was only then did Rafe move. His face fell, but you were already backing away.

“Y/N-.”

“Don’t touch me,” you tearfully spat. “What is wrong with you?”

He didn’t listen, grabbing your arms anyway, and you were still in too much shock to really fight back. Rafe cooed at you, trying to take your face into his hands no matter how much you protested. You wanted him far away from you, and your brain was unsure of how to achieve that, still grappling with the memory of his palm connecting with your cheek.

“Hey, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to do that,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. “Baby, stop.”

You shoved at his chest, hitting it, but he wasn’t deterred. He only rested his free hand on the back of your head, holding you against him, and the feel had more tears spilling over. You kept trying to get away, but Rafe refused to let you, repeatedly apologizing and shushing you. You could feel the cool metal of his ring against your scalp, his lips there too as he kept telling you he was sorry.

Your chest was so tight, and it ached just as much as your face. Your mind was still fighting to make sense of what had happened tonight, and despite Rafe’s apologies for his entire behavior, you told yourself that this was the last straw. Rafe had ruined your birthday in more ways than one, and you were done. You had to be.

…because you deserved better.

The first time you had sex with Rafe—with anyone ever—you’d been terrified.

…and drunk.

An entire month after your birthday, and you didn’t know if you were more shocked or angry that you stayed with Rafe. You had been so determined to leave him that night. He had ruined your birthday beyond repair, and you knew that anytime you looked back on the night you turned nineteen, you’d only remember Rafe slapping you on the dock.

…but you’d also remember his profuse apologies, and the tears in his eyes as he begged you to forgive him.

He was drunk. That was what he kept saying, that he was drunk and acted before thinking. It was barely a reason and certainly wasn’t an excuse, so why did you stay? It was stupid to stay…and yet you did. You let Rafe kiss your face and lead you back to the party that had long died and smile in the face of the parents whose daughter he’d just hit.

You’d answered the phone as he called you, taking almost half an hour to just tell you again how sorry he was and how he didn’t know what came over him and how it would never happen again. You’d never known Rafe to be so apologetic in all the time you’d been dating him. It would’ve been sweet if it weren’t for the circumstances, and the whole time, you’d only been able to listen in silence with your fingers grazing your face.

You hadn’t been able to look him in the eye for days, going over it in your head again and again. Torn between listening to your gut and telling yourself that it had just been a one-off thing, a bad drunken night. After all, what you’d said to him hadn’t been the nicest, knowing how he felt in regard to Ward and his relationship with him. It didn’t make it right…but you had provoked Rafe. You’d said it to hurt him…to make him angry… Right?

…but that wasn’t the case a month later.

Things between you and Rafe hadn’t been the same since. He still doted on you, and your parents still adored him, and you were reluctant to admit you still loved him, but you could never get that night out of your mind. You could never forget how swift it had been, how no thought to you had been spared. Rafe had only been focused on retaliating, hurting you, and it was something you often struggled with. You believed it wouldn’t happen again…but what if it did?

Without even realizing it, you became less argumentative with the blond. You gave him less pushback, you smiled more and became more agreeable to his suggestions. You spent more time with him, making him happy. You believed him when he said it wouldn’t happen again, but in the back of your mind, something in you was doing everything you could think of to make sure it didn’t.

…and that was why you still didn’t quite understand how the fight had started.

Something about Topper…or Kelce.

You were so drunk, it was hard to remember.

“I saw you!”

You had blinked at Rafe from your place on the couch, staring up at him in wonder and confusion. Another Friday meant another party, and promising your mother you’d be back by a certain time, you’d allowed Rafe to help you into his truck. Nothing about the night had been out of the ordinary, and it was why you found yourself wracking your brain.

“Rafe, I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you softly told him, trying to understand why he was so mad.

The only son of Ward Cameron knocked the glass of water right out of your hand, and you flinched at the action, blinking at the sight of shattered glass on the floor. You’d gotten it to try and help you sober up before you went home, and you stared at the spilled water with parted lips. You were too drunk to fully grasp the severity of the situation you were now in.

Suddenly Rafe was there, too close, leaning down over you with his hands resting on the back of the couch. You leaned back and away from him, eyes wide as he looked at you like you were something he’d find on the bottom of his shoe. Like he was so disgusted with the sight of you, and again, you wracked your brain to understand what you’d done. To understand how to fix this.

Rafe’s blue gaze had been cold, icy, and you hadn’t missed the tick of his jaw. The alcohol in your system hindered your thinking, and that had seemed to make Rafe angrier, like he was furious you couldn’t put it together. Read his mind. Overwhelmed, you hadn’t been able to stop a few tears of frustration from escaping, and that just seemed to really send him over the edge.

“You were in his lap,” he had bit out, and only then did you finally understand.

Your odd relationship with your boyfriend these days had driven you to drink more than you ever had. You’d been sloppy…clumsy, and Topper was nice enough to help you back to your feet after you’d quite literally fallen right onto his lap. You wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, but one look into Rafe’s eyes had you swallowing it down.

He was very serious…and very angry.

You reached for him, but Rafe only slapped your hands away, straightening and looking down his nose at you. It was a look that made you feel so…cold, and with one blink, you remembered that you were alone. Sarah was God knows where, and the remaining Camerons had gone out to eat. The house was usually empty during this time, but it wasn’t this Friday night.

It consisted of you…and your angry boyfriend.

“I should…I should go. Call my mom,” you mumbled, pushing yourself to your feet.

Your attempts to get by Rafe went unsuccessful, and with each block to your path, something deep within your gut just…dropped. Your gaze met a familiar blue one, and nothing about it was warm, welcoming. Rafe seemed to be so mad at you about something so silly, but instead of just talking about it later when you were both much clearer headed…he didn’t want to let you leave.

“Is that what you’re gonna do?” he’d mocked, a mean look on his face. “Call mommy and daddy to come get you?”

Sarah.

You reminded of him of Sarah.

That was what he’d said, what he’d thrown at you. His tense relationship with the other girl was no secret to anyone, least of all you, and you winced at every insult he threw at you. Spoiled brat. Perfect princess. Uptight prude. It shocked you for a lot of reasons, but mostly because Rafe wasn’t drunk. He wasn’t sober, but you’d hardly seen him drink all night and not nearly as much as you, and he was insulting you with confidence, throwing all of these things at you that you never knew he felt.

“I’m just going to go home, okay? You’re being an asshole, and I don’t know why, so I just…”

At some point, your back was grazing the wall, and Rafe was hovering before you, a look in his eye like leaving was the very last thing he wanted you to do. Every move of yours was mirrored, every turn met with one of his own, and for the first time ever…you were afraid of your boyfriend.

When Rafe hit you that night, you hadn’t been scared. Not really. You’d been angry…shocked…disbelieving. Not scared though. You’d just wanted to be away from him, you had even wanted to hit him back, but not once did you remember feeling scared for your life. Not like this night, and you couldn’t keep it together.

“Rafe, please, I just…I just wanna go home,” you choked out, touching your temple. “We can talk about this tomorrow.”

You were so confused as to how you got here. The night had taken such an unexpected turn, and more than anything, you wanted to sleep it off and write the whole thing off as a bad dream. You wanted to get some more water and take a shower and skip to the part where you had a pounding headache in the morning. You didn’t understand how a night of partying had turned into an argument with your boyfriend.

Although, you supposed it wasn’t much of an argument. Mostly Rafe yelling at you and you trying to understand why. Rafe was determined to make this into something it wasn’t, and when it became clear that he wasn’t going to let you leave without dead-ing this whole thing, you frowned at him.

“I fell. You know I fell, you know…”

Your words died in the air as Rafe rolled his eyes, and something in you was telling you that Rafe was going to believe what he wanted to believe. He was determined to make something true, and it startled you to realize that you’d lost this argument before it even began. Slipping from in between Rafe and the wall was a mistake.

A mistake that had consequences.

Your purse was halfway across the room before you could even grab it good, Rafe suddenly in your face again. He was yelling about a whole bunch of nothing, and when you turned from him again, Rafe made sure it was the last time, gripping your upper arm so hard that you actually cried out. His other hand followed suit, and he shook you, hard enough to make your head whip back and forth.

The only time he listened to you was when you asked him to let you go.

…and he did just that…shoving you in the process.

The kitchen counter slowed your fall only a bit, but it added to the pain more than anything else. Trying to get up proved fruitless, because Rafe was there, kneeling before you with one hand on the counter. The other was on your face, forcing you to look at him. You were too drunk to make full sense of everything he was saying, to grasp the danger you were in. When you finally did, it was too late.

…because Rafe was already ripping the dress he bought you a week ago.

You thought it was a joke at first—some awful and insensitive scare tactic—until you were reaching up to pull at the hand around your throat. Your other hand slapped at the cabinets below in panic, and with a knee between your legs, it was impossible to close them. You knew that you were alone, but that fact didn’t stop you from crying out.

“You really expect me to just watch you throw yourself at my friends? Huh?”

The kitchen floor was cool against your back.

“…and laugh about it?”

He was fumbling between you both, and the room was spinning too much for you to understand why. You felt nauseous, and Rafe was hurting you, and you were cold. Not to mention that your head had started to hurt, but you also realized that everything was hurting.

“But you won’t even touch me.”

You felt like you’d been punched in the gut…only lower.

The pain of Rafe’s intrusion had you wailing, and the difference in your reactions couldn’t have been starker. It was hard to decipher, but you were sure that Rafe had moaned, a low drawn-out sigh as he sheathed himself inside of you. You could feel Rafe’s chest heaving against yours, could feel his heartbeat, could even hear his shaky breath.

You, on the other hand…

You couldn’t move. You felt frozen, restricted by something unseen, and when you tried to fight against it, you gasped. One shift had you wincing, and tears spilled over almost immediately. Your hands were pressing against his chest, now, desperately trying to push Rafe away, pushing off of you… out of you. It was no good, Rafe in a whole other world you weren’t privy too as he pulled back.

The feel had you wincing again, and you thought…

Well, you thought wrong.

Your relief was short-lived, and Rafe ignored everything you said as he started to thrust inside of you. His hips barely left yours, only enough to create friction, and you pushed your forearm against his neck, fighting to get him to stop. The pain wasn’t something you could wrap your head around, and you didn’t know if you were grateful or not that you were so drunk.

Every snap of Rafe’s hips made you cry harder, harsh sobs escaping and echoing in the otherwise silent kitchen. The sound of your bawling was only rivaled by the groans that escaped Rafe, your boyfriend pointedly ignoring your plight. One of his hands pushed against your face, forcing your head to the side…as if he didn’t want to see your face.

See the reality of what he was doing to you.

You thought at some point that the pain would go away, subside, but it felt like it only got worse with each thrust of his cock. Rafe was a man on a mission with only one objective in mind, and you were having the hardest time sorting your thoughts, realizing that in this moment you were a means to an end. An objective to be met through the use of your body.

…but you supposed it was more than just that.

Rafe was always entitled, a trait you found somewhat endearing much like towards an entitled child, but it hadn’t occurred to you that he’d feel entitled to you too. Before the night of your birthday, you knew the one thorn in your relationship, the one thing to actually put a crack in your relationship. Deep down somewhere, you expected Rafe to just leave you. After all, why wouldn’t you?

There was no universe in which you’d ever consider the possibility of the alternative.

The possibility that your boyfriend would just take what he wanted.

It didn’t last long—or maybe that was the alcohol in your system sparing you—but you couldn’t even be relieved. Even after Rafe pulled out, spent and satisfied and out of breath, the pain still remained. He was talking, and you didn’t know if he was talking to himself or you, but you paid it no mind. You could still feel him deep in your gut, and you rolled onto your side, curling into yourself.

You didn’t hear him the first time, but the second time Rafe told you to get up, he was forcing you to your feet. It hurt, and you could barely walk, and your confusion only grew. His hold was tight, and his tone sounded off, and you discovered why when headlights from the yard bled through the windows and into your line of sight.

He was rushing you to get upstairs, but you kept stumbling from both the pain and your blurry vision. Rafe didn’t let you go until you were just inside of his room, and as you collapsed to the floor, you could hear the door opening downstairs. You couldn’t stop crying even if you wanted to, and you hadn’t even realized Rafe had left—to give some half-baked excuse for the broken glass, no doubt—until he returned, suddenly kneeling at your side and begging you to stop crying.

You tried to push him away, but your movements were sluggish, weak, and you weren’t able to hold your own as he pulled you to your feet. Rafe stumbled into the bathroom with you, an arm around you and holding you up as he started the shower. You didn’t want him touching you, but you were physically unable to stop him. Every step hurt and made you stumble, every wave of your arm made you sway, and when the warm water ran over you both, there was nothing you could do as he washed away every remnant of his assault.

You were at Rafe’s side on his birthday, a small smile on your lips as he kept an arm around your waist. Rose thanked you for coming, not that she would expect anything different, and Wheezie asked if you would be staying over. The youngest Cameron had taken a liking to you—all of them did really—and she looked forward to having you around. You wanted to tell her no, but that wasn’t what you said. Instead, you said:

“Its’ Rafe’s birthday. Why wouldn’t I?”

The dark-haired girl beamed, adjusting her glasses, and her satisfaction was contagious. You knew that Rafe’s dynamic with his family was tricky at the best of times, and while you were sure they loved you just fine, something in you also wondered if they liked who Rafe was when he was around you. They were happy to host you for as long as they could.

They had no idea that it was only 24 hours earlier when Rafe tried to kill you.

Trying to leave Rafe resulted in the last thing you ever expected.

That night—and all the other nights that followed—haunted you. When you closed your eyes, you could only see Rafe at his lowest, holding you down and hurting you. You could only feel the pain of him forcing himself inside of you, and the pain that lingered when he was no longer there. The memory of bloody water swirling down the drain was a constant in your mind. As well as the memory of Rafe putting you in his bed, pulling his shirt down to your knees.

You should have left the night of your birthday, you should’ve gotten out then, and none of it would have ever happened, but you told yourself that late was better than never. You told yourself that you learned your lesson and you didn’t have to experience any more hurt to leave. Your eyes were open, and while you didn’t know if you’d ever go against Rafe legally for what he did, you did know that you were leaving him. You had to focus on each step at once. Trying to think so far ahead was enough to scare you.

Right now, you just needed to leave him.

His entire visage had been eerily calm as you broke up with him, voice shaking as you did. Even he hadn’t been able to deny how your relationship had deteriorated, become something unrecognizable and unhealthy. The morning after, you felt like you were existing outside of your body. You could see Rafe leaving apologetic kisses along your face as you stirred, but you couldn’t really feel it. You couldn’t feel his hands either, not until they found a home between your legs, at least.

Your protest was almost immediate, but Rafe had assured you it was fine…and you were scared.

So, you believed him.

Experiencing pain and pleasure at the same time was foreign to you. Rafe’s previous assault was not something to be ignored, but it felt odd to come around him and hiss from the pain of it at the same time. He was gentle, pressing his lips to yours and grazing his fingertips against your skin. His thrusts had been slow and careful, but the damage had been done, and every push of his hips brought out conflicting reactions.

That was how it always went.

Even after the pain and bruises were long gone, you couldn’t stop being afraid of Rafe. After all, he’d made it perfectly clear that he wouldn’t respect any kind of refusal from you. What kind of relationship was that? How could you thrive in that? Rafe may have been your first everything, but you weren’t naïve. He was an abusive asshole…and you were just too scared to do something about it.

Until last night.

You thought it would be easy. You even remembered internally laughing at yourself for how dramatic you’d made it in your mind. You thought… You thought that Rafe would move on, let you go. After all, he’d finally gotten what he wanted, and you had even exhaled when he nodded, a soft ‘okay’ soon to follow.

“Let me drive you home,” he’d said.

“Okay,” you’d replied.

You didn’t know why you thought it would be that easy.

Things with Rafe hadn’t been easy in months, and your attempted breakup was no different.

You realized that when the needle on the speedometer started to rapidly climb, the sound of Rafe’s revving engine loud in the truck. You asked him what was going on, where he was going, even though deep down you knew. You knew Rafe better than anyone probably, so you knew the answers to your questions before you even asked them.

“Rafe, stop,” you’d begged, reaching for his arm, but the blond simply fixed you with a wry smile.

“Why?” he’d wondered with a shrug. “So, you can leave me? Why would I want that?”

The houses and trees were flying past you outside the window, and you never felt more powerless than in the moment you were trapped in Rafe’s truck, unable to do a thing as he raced down the road towards the end he’d already picked out for the both of you. Any attempt to grab the wheel only resulted in Rafe jerking it—jerking the vehicle in the process—and scaring the shit out of you.

Retracting everything you’d said earlier only resulted in a harsh slap to the steering wheel, a dry laugh from Rafe soon to follow.

“You think I believe that load of shit? Huh?”

“Rafe-!”

“You just tried to break up with me not even thirty minutes ago,” he screamed.

He wasn’t wrong, and you still wanted to, but you were more afraid of dying than living a lie. You pleaded with your boyfriend, assuring him that you didn’t mean it. He only laughed again, and you got the feeling that Rafe was genuinely amused by you. By your tears, by your fear, and by your desperation.

Your heart was racing so fast it could be classified as painful. Your hands were sweating and constantly sliding against the door from where you tried to hold on to it. You pulled at his arm when he swerved into the other lane, swerving back just in time to miss an oncoming truck. Your stomach twisted painfully, bile rising in your throat, and at this point you couldn’t even see the road because of your tears.

“Rafe, please, please just talk to me,” you cried.

His knuckles were white as he gripped the wheel, blue eyes focused on the road with not a glance spared towards you, and you pressed your hand to your mouth. You looked out of the window again, unable to make out a thing, and when you reached for Rafe this time, he didn’t slap your hand away. He didn’t protest when you wrapped your arm around his waist, leaning into him and resting your hand against his chest.

You knew that your tears were staining his shirt, and you didn’t know if you stopped fighting as some unconscious tactic or simply because you were accepting what was impossible to escape. Rafe had to have been going a hundred miles an hour, this kind of speed something your brain could barely fathom. It was after some time when you felt his hand on your head and some time after that when you gradually felt the truck slowing.

You were still shaking long after it came to a stop in some wooded area, and the silence in the vehicle was loud. Rafe was just playing with your hair while you trembled against him, and when he stopped, it was only to trail his hand to your neck, gripping the back of it harshly as he forced you to sit up. You knew you looked as distraught as you felt, but Rafe…

Rafe looked calm and in control and nothing less.

His blue eyes ran over your face, drinking in your trembling lips and wet cheeks, lingering on your wide eyes the longest. You felt him rub his thumb along your skin, and when he hummed, it harshly pressed against the side of your neck. Suddenly, the corner of his pink lips curved just the slightest, and nothing about it was soothing.

“I wasn’t serious… You know that, right?”

You didn’t respond because he wasn’t kidding, and you both knew it. Rafe shifted, moving closer, and he brought his other hand up to touch your cheek, wiping your tears away. He studied your eyes, leaning in and grazing your lips.

“It was just…something I didn’t mean. You understand though. Doing things…saying things we don’t mean,” he slowly said to you, swiping his tongue between his lips. “Right…?”

The drop in his voice and the slight raise of his brows had you swallowing, and he was looking at you like he dared you to disagree. Fighting the urge to throw up, and with a shaky nod, you told Rafe what he wanted to hear.

“Right,” you whispered, and he chuckled.

“Alright,” he breathed with a blinding smile, pulling you into his side. “Kelce is throwing together some small thing at his house. I told him we might stop by…”

He trailed off, leaving room for a comment, and you only shrugged.

“That’s fine with me.”

Your voice was barely audible, but Rafe heard you fine, starting the truck and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I knew it would be.”

You’d been quiet the whole night, and you’d been quiet all day, only existing as silent support to Rafe on his birthday. If anyone noticed your reserved demeanor, no one commented on it. No one knew that as you wished Rafe a happy birthday, you were afraid of what could happen if you didn’t smile hard enough. When he kissed you, you could only think of how he’d kissed you after threatening to kill you both. Every time Rafe held your hand, it felt like a chain tethering you to him.

You dreaded the moment the party would thin out and everyone would start trickling from the home in pairs, heading back to the comfort of their own homes until just Rafe and his family remained. Eventually they would call it a night too, and you and Rafe would be alone, and you wouldn’t have a choice but to kiss him back when he eventually kissed you.

…and kiss you he did.

“You almost ruined my birthday, you know,” he mumbled into the kiss, making you pause for half a second.

Your only response was a quiet apology, and Rafe sighed into your mouth.

“That’s okay, baby,” the blond purred. “You know I’ll let you make it up to me.”

You were terrified of your boyfriend, and that was why you let him undress you. You let him wrap his arms around you and hold you close and press kisses to your skin. It was surreal to have sexy with someone you were afraid of, like you were being held hostage in your own body. If Rafe noticed—and you were sure that he did—he didn’t care.

He was content to lay you down and bury his face into the crook of your neck. In fact, you were sure Rafe liked your fear, liked that you were so scared of him. You thought it made it all the more fun for him to push his cock into you and feel you tremble in fear. You just knew there was something in Rafe that took great pleasure in making you momentarily sacrifice your fear of him for ecstasy instead.

He forced your head back, and your chest arched upwards into him. You gasped at the feel of his tongue on your skin, gliding over a hardened bud and tasting you. His hips came down slowly, like he was savoring the feel of you clinging to his cock. He sighed with every thrust, and you were never able to swallow down your own moans once Rafe started stroking that fire building within you.

“Fuck,” he groaned, nipping at your lip as he plunged his cock into you.

One of your legs were thrown over his shoulder, and the stretch burned in a way that wasn’t painful but wasn’t the best either. One of your hands was wrapping around his arm, trying to ground yourself as the other twisted into his sheets. You couldn’t stop gasping, clenching down on him every time Rafe hit that spot in you that made you lose your breath.

When he pushed your leg back more, you yelped in pain, but Rafe only hummed. His thrusts became rougher, and he only hummed again when you hissed. Your hand rested on his chest, pushing against him slightly—a nonverbal communication—but Rafe ignored it.

“Rafe…”

His hips were slapping against yours, and you couldn’t even pretend to enjoy it. Your other hand came up too, and he slapped it away, that same hand wrapped around your throat only moments later. You let out a choked cry, reaching up, but Rafe didn’t stop, continuing to fuck you and choke you.

“Look at me-look at me,” he quietly spat.

Too afraid not to, you did, your distressed gaze meeting his even one in the low lighting. He was so close, nose almost brushing against yours, and he looked between your eyes. His hand tightened around your neck, making your heart skip a beat, and his free hand covered your breast, squeezing it, and your free leg kicked at the sheets.

“I will kill you.”

Your nails pressed into the skin on his arm.

“Do you understand me? You try to leave me again…and I will kill you.”

Your heart was threatening to burst from your chest, and the ceiling behind Rafe’s face was starting to blur. The edges of your vision were growing faint, darkness creeping along the outer rim.

“I will dump your body on the side of the road, and I will get away with it.”

His words and cadence were slow, purposeful, and you knew that Rafe was entirely serious. Tears had long spilled over, and you couldn’t stop crying. Rafe shook you, your neck straining from the action, and the whole time he kept fucking you. His lower movements didn’t stop once, sliding into you over and over and stroking your walls all the while he threatened you.

He roughly let you go, and you coughed, touching your throat and shaking uncontrollably. When Rafe shifted, your leg falling to the bed, you pressed your hands to your face, sobbing into the palms of them. Rafe caged you in, thighs meeting yours with every thrust, and he didn’t seem to care at all at the sight of your distress. In fact, he kissed the back of your hands, humming with every stroke, and you could only think that if you had broken up with him on your birthday then he wouldn’t be threatening your life on his.

Ward Cameron may have felt a lot of things about Rafe, but he wasn’t going to let his only son go to jail.

You should have known that when you called the police, throat tight and phone call tearful as they asked what your emergency was. Telling the woman on the other side of the phone that you were hiding from Rafe Cameron inside of the bathroom wasn’t easy. Telling her that he had a gun was even harder, and something in you wondered if they would’ve been as urgent if they hadn’t heard his booming voice from the other side of the door as he threatened you.

You were sitting on the steps when a familiar car pulled into the driveway behind the cruiser, and you felt your face crumble. There was some relief as the older man went back and forth with Shoupe, but it dwindled the longer it went on. When Ward turned his head towards you, you dropped your gaze, eyes tracing the blood on your foot from where a few shards of glass had nicked it. You didn’t dare look up, not even when you heard his footsteps approaching despite the loud protests from the Sheriff.

When Ward said your name, it was cautious—gentle—and you shook your head.

“No.”

Your name rolled off of his tongue again, and you interrupted whatever he was going to say.

“No, no, no! No,” you cried.

You knew what he was going to say, where this was going, and you refused. You were tired, so tired, and each time you’d tried to do the right thing after your disastrous birthday, you got screwed over. Each time, Rafe was one step ahead or using that charming smile and devious words to convince you it would never happen again. Every slap, every shove, every hand around your throat was proof of all the lies that left his lips.

You were sure that the only truth Rafe had ever told was when he said he’d kill you.

It was silent between you two for some time, and you heard Ward sigh. You bit your lip, worrying it so much you started to taste blood, and you sniffed, wiping your face as you refused to look at the man. When he took another step towards you, you flinched, and only then did you look up to see the way Ward’s face fell.

You watched him press his lips together, only a thin line, now.

“I want you to tell me what happened.”

You scoffed.

“You know what happened. I’m sure Shoupe told you,” you forced out, and Ward exhaled through his nose.

He briefly glanced over his shoulder, looking at his son in the back of the cop car.

“I want to hear it from you. I want to know how a couple’s quarrel turned into-.”

“A couple’s quarrel?” you repeated in disbelief, tears falling as you exhaled. “He threw a vase at me. He put a gun in my mouth.”

You couldn’t tell how Ward took your words, but he did put his hands on his hips.

“Now, Y/N…you know it’s a crime to lie to the police.”

His response didn’t surprise you, and you nodded, your laugh humorless. Ward knew you were telling the truth, he knew just how unhinged Rafe could be, but he didn’t want him in jail. He couldn’t have the Cameron name tarnished by the arrest of his only son on domestic violence charges. Ward would rather handle this in private, away from prying eyes…and it disgusted you.

“I’m not lying, and you know I’m not lying,” you choked out.

“Why would Rafe do this? Right out of the blue?”

You were on your feet, now, sneering at the other man.

“It’s not out of the blue. Rafe has been treating me like shit for months!”

“…and this is the first we’re hearing of it…?”

The eldest Cameron tilted his head to the side, studying you, and you felt your breath leave you. You watched him touch his chest, gaze soft as he seemed to plead with you.

“Now, I’m not saying that’s not true…but you know that’s what they’re going to ask you. They’re going to ask you why you didn’t tell anyone…and they’re going to note how convenient this all is.”

You knew that, and you looked away, hands falling at your side.

“Rafe says you dropped a vase, and it started an argument.”

“He’s lying-.”

“…and anyone can say you’re the liar.”

You pressed your hands to your forehead, squeezing your eyes shut as more tears fell. Even through your lids, you could see the change in colors from the flash of the squad car, and when you opened your eyes again, the procession of red and blue lit the yard.

“That gun is legally his…and no one saw him do what you claim he did.”

“Why are you protecting him?” you loudly wondered, looking at the man in disbelief.

You’d eaten dinner with his family, even watched his daughter some nights, and he’d smiled in your face on numerous occasions, treating you like his own. Now, though…when push came to shove…Ward Cameron was showing you that you were not one of his own. Rafe was his own…and you were now a threat.

He took a step towards you, and you reached out to grip the rail to keep yourself from falling.

“I am just telling you what will happen if you continue with this,” he slowly started, and you crossed your arms over your chest, refusing to look at him. “They will take Rafe away, and I will pay his bail, and he’ll come home with me. There were no witnesses, and everything is pure speculation, a simple case of he said she said.”

You knew that he was right, and you felt yourself start to shake.

“…and in that scenario, I can’t help you.”

You knew what he was saying. You knew that he was talking about protecting you from more than just scrutiny and the law—he was also talking about protecting you from Rafe. Your lips parted, and you shakily exhaled. You felt like you were going to collapse, legs unsteady, and when you looked over…your eyes finally met a familiar blue pair.

You were positive that Rafe hadn’t taken his eyes off of you since they’d put handcuffs on him. If looks could kill, you were sure that you’d be six feet under, and you frantically blinked. No matter how much you wanted to, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, and your stomach churned at the memory of his hand on the back of your neck. His other held the gun, angrily forcing the weapon into your mouth as he sneered at you.

Something about returning the smile from some pogue at The Wreck—blond and rowdy and kind of familiar.

You recalled that his name was JJ.

The fight had started almost as soon as you got inside, and you shuddered at the flare of pain in your arm, recalling the way Rafe had shoved you into the wall. You’d only slid down just in time to miss the flying vase. Just thinking about it was enough to paralyze you with fear…and then you thought about what would happen should you choose to have a legal battle with Rafe and his family.

…and lose.

You let out a choked sob, looking away, and letting your face fall into your hands. You collapsed back down onto the steps, Ward’s voice reaching you.

“You tell Shoupe this was all one big misunderstanding…and I can do so much more for you. …but I can’t help you if you go through with this.”

You couldn’t stop crying, because you were trapped…and you knew it. Your parents had money too, just as much as the Cameron’s, but that only evened the playing field, it gave you no advantage, and you were back to square one of your word vs Rafe’s. You knew he would be far more forgiving if you just…did what Ward said. You knew that if you went through with this and lost, Rafe would wring your neck.

“I won’t let my son go to jail, Y/N. One way or another…”

You knew he was telling the truth, the conviction in his tone matching the certainty in your chest.

“…but at least this way, I can help you.”

Your knees bounced as you wrapped your arms around yourself, your tearful gaze focused on the perfectly manicured grass. You curled in on yourself, head falling, and your shoulders shook from your sobs.

“He scares me,” you struggled to say, and Ward placated you.

“I know…I know he does, but you have to let me help you.”

You pulled the ends of your sleeves over your hands, wiping your face. The night was still lit up with red and blue, and you closed your eyes, stomach sinking. It took everything in you to give Ward a shaky nod, and you kept your eyes on the ground as Ward waved the other man over.

You felt like you were betraying yourself, arm still aching and throat still raw from all of your screaming. A lot of your trembling was still from what had happened hours ago, and like that day in his truck…and the night of his party…you’d really thought you were going to die. You couldn’t go through that again, but Ward said that he would protect you because you knew Rafe better than anyone, and you knew that if you tried to press charges against Rafe and didn’t succeed…

He would kill you.

“Y/N wants to talk to you.”

You glanced up at the sound of your name, holding Ward’s gaze for a few seconds before finally meeting Shoupe’s.

“I want… I don’t-I don’t wanna press charges.”

Your words tumbled out, and for a moment, you were sure that Shoupe hadn’t heard you properly. You came to realize that he heard you fine, and his confusion wasn’t from a lack of understanding. You watched him rest his hands on his hips, looking between you and Ward.

“Now, Y/N…” he started, seemingly trying to organize his thoughts. “I heard that phone call. I heard what you said and I heard him yelling.”

“It was just a regular argument, Shoupe,” you whispered with a shrug. “It was stupid. A stupid vase…”

“That he threw…”

The pause was heavy, and you glanced away.

“That I dropped.”

You shook your head when he said your name, and you licked your lips, gaze pleading as they met his again.

“Please, just let him go. He didn’t do anything to me. It was a stupid fight that I exaggerated because…I was angry and things got out of hand, and this just went way beyond what I intended, so…”

The other man didn’t look like he believed you, at all, and you watched him glance at Ward—who hadn’t said a thing—before looking back to you. He sighed, fixing you with a look you couldn’t name.

“Are you sure…?”

Your only response was a nod, unsure if you could lie any more without breaking down. With an aggravated sigh—aggravation at you or at Ward, you didn’t know—Shoupe signaled to his deputy to let Rafe go. Ward was pulled to the side as the two men had a hushed and heated conversation, going back and forth, while your gaze rested on Rafe.

You felt like you were doing the worst thing possible as you watched them guide him out of the backseat. He looked far from happy as they uncuffed him, and just like all night, his gaze refused to leave you. The flashing red and blue bathed him, blue eyes glinting almost dangerously, and you pressed your lips together while you watched him rub his now free wrists.

The other men were distracted as Rafe slowly made his way over, and you didn’t dare move. You were too scared to, and as much as you wanted to pull your eyes away, you couldn’t find the strength to. It was just hours ago that you’d stared into that face as he yelled at you for something as harmless as a smile. Only hours ago, he was pushing you around and threatening you.

…and now those same hands were reaching for you and pulling you to your feet.

You cried for so many reasons as Rafe wrapped his arms around you, rocking you from side to side and shushing you in what was meant to be a soothing voice. They were tight, and you cried harder, apologies slipping past your lips before you realized what you were doing. Rafe was always quick to forgive if you were quick to apologize.

“I know,” you heard and felt him murmur into your hair.

“Please, please don’t…”

You both knew what you were begging for, and he gently shushed you.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out again, repeating it as many times as you thought you should, hoping and praying that it was enough. “You have to know that…”

Your words died in the air at the sound of his voice.

“I should be angry with you…but I understand,” he softly told you. “You were scared, and you should’ve been.”

You sniffed, staring at the red and blue grass.

“I went too far, and you were right to be scared.”

Rafe pressed a kiss to the top of your head, lingering there, telling you the words that brought you temporary relief.

“I forgive you.”

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe cameron imagine #dark!rafe cameron x reader #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction

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gb-patch · 3 months ago

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GB Patch Games: Response About Sensitivity Reader

[Some of you might not have heard of this happening, but I wanted to address it across the board]

Hey everyone,

I want to make a post about the screenshots of comments from one of our sensitivity readers. The situation is that neither me or Rose want people to feel uncomfortable with Our Life: Now & Forever, but Rose hasn’t done anything terribly wrong and isn’t going to be punished.

The comment about OL MCs wasn’t meant to be genuine hatred towards all male players/MCs of OL. Rose wrote a reply about it-

"Hi everyone! This is Rose, I want to address the male MC comment since it was taken wildly out of context and without the lengthy discussion that was after it. I don't hate male MCs, in fact far from it, male MCs are integral to the story in OL:NF as female and trans MCs are. I think the relationship they could potentially have with Qiu could be a great asset in my opinion as they figure out their gender alongside the MC. The discussion itself was about how I noticed players were sticking to heteronormative norms by shipping Tamarack with a man purely out of societal norms than it was genuine thought into the characters and how I personally wished there was more sapphic relationships with Tamarack or just Tamarack with trans characters as a sapphic trans person myself. I didn't mean to offend anyone by it as no one but my friends who understood what I legitimately meant behind my message and it definitely wasn't meant to be seen seriously. I am sorry regardless to anyone I have offended and I love your male MCs regardless."

And most of the comments were about me. I’ve seen screenshots of the full conversations and they’re not as harsh as the cropped snippets made them out to be. It was longer discussions about not including Derek in any base game Moments for no good reason and not having any plus-sized love interests in OL1 because I was afraid players wouldn’t accept it. That’s not a lie, it’s what I decided for the game I created, and it is ridiculous of me. I’m the one who should be feeling embarrassed over how OL1 will forever be that way, not the people who remember that I did that. I’m not perfect and Rose actually cares more about the players than making me feel like I am flawless.

I also don’t want to tone police an employee venting about their boss in private, on their own time. Both the OL games deal with personal, important topics. This is sensitive work, and it can bring up frustrations. Sometimes people do use harsh words among friends, but they wouldn’t ever say it to a person seriously and directly.

I understand if you wouldn’t want to see anyone speak badly of a dev you like, but I promise it’s not a point of contention between me and Rose. I don’t feel mistreated in anyway. Rose genuinely cares about the Our Life series, and that’s why they get fed up with me over certain parts of the game.

Rose has never been unkind or unreasonable to me when working on the project, and their advice is detailed and well-explained. They do care about the game and want it to avoid having content that upsets people because of my own ignorance/shortcomings.

This being shared publicly from a private server is targeting Rose and seems to be a continuation of things that have happened before this. I don’t want this to continue happening. If you do still have concerns over the one comment about the community, you can let me know. But again, I don’t want people being mistrustful of Rose on my behalf for comments about me in conversations with missing context.

Do not send angry messages to Rose about any of this. We’ll do our best so that OL2 will be better than I was before. Thank you to everyone who reads this and participates in the community!

#gb patch #gb patch games #our life #our life: now & forever #our life: beginnings & always

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anonymityisfunwriter · 9 months ago

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"Slut!"

Pairing - Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader Summary - It was perfect. Lovelorn and nobody knows. Love thorns all over this rose. You almost forgot just how hard the fall back to reality is. But if they call you a slut, it might be worth it for once.

Steve Rogers Masterlist | Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist

"She goes through guys like a train-"

You immediately change the channel. The next one isn't better. You don't know why you thought it would be.

"The Stark last name and the long list of ex-lovers, that's her claim to fame. I mean, let's be honest here, she's a slu-" The tabloid reporter is abruptly cut off as the screen before you goes dark.

You look up to find Steve with the remote in his hand. He glares at the screen like the reporter was still talking, "You shouldn't be watching that."

"I'm used to it."

"You shouldn't be. It's despicable. They were - the things they're calling you-"

"A slut," you finish for him.

His eyes dart to you, that furrow between his eyebrows getting deeper and deeper with every word spoken, "It's not true. This isn't journalism, it's slander."

You weren't sure how this happened. Sure, it was only a matter of time before they found you out. This wasn't the first time. Not the second or the third either. If the press was to be believed, you were love sick. Love struck with a new man every week.

It wasn't the first time someone called you a slut. It certainly wouldn't be the last.

You stopped living your life in fear of what people would say a long time ago. Being this young was an art. And up until now, you thought you mastered it.

It was simple. You even had your rules. You followed them and no one got hurt - or at the very least, it minimized the damage.

They were going to stare at you. Strangers. Press. The flashing cameras. It came with being a Stark. If they're going to look, you gave them something to look at. You didn't so much as step out on the street with a single hair out of place. You were flawless. Always.

You were nineteen, and on the heels of a breakup with your second ever boyfriend, the first time someone spit that word at you - "slut!" It hurt, but it didn't hurt as much as you thought it would. It almost made you laugh. You realized that they didn't really care about your love life or about the trail of broken hearts you were supposedly leaving behind. They wanted a spectacle. They wanted a show. If you're going to be drunk, might as well be drunk in love.

It was easier after that. You knew the truth. The people around you knew the truth. You let everyone else believe what they wanted. You did what you wanted. You lived your life without worrying about being called a slut. They were going to call you one anyway. And if they call you a slut, you might as well make it worth it.

You gave just enough to keep them satisfied. Never anything too real. Never too much. Just enough that they wouldn't dare peak behind closed doors. Just enough to be able to live your life.

There were was a cost, of course. No one took you seriously. You dealt with the vague humiliation of the rumors constantly swirling about your hips and thighs and whispered sighs.

And though you inherited the Stark genius, no one cared about what you thought, what you had to say.

In that, the reporter was right, your love life was far more interesting than your thoughts on quantum mechanics or the military industrial complex. That was what you were known for.

For the most part, you were okay with it. You were willing to pay it all.

That was until you fell in love with Steve Rogers. Suddenly, you weren't willing to give them crumbs. You weren't willing to expose a love that felt this delicate.

You sit on the couch, huddled in your sweatpants, pensively staring at the blank screen.

This time, it was different. This wasn't a show, not a spectacle. It was real, an exposed nerve that the world decided was fair game. You were fair game and it was open season.

Steve settles beside you, draping an arm around your midsection. He kisses your temple, "Tony thinks it's probably best that you lay low for a while."

"Yes, well, my brother is the expert on PR damage control."

It wasn't the same though. You both knew it. Tony had done far worse with far more women. Yet, he would never pay the price you were paying in this very moment.

Steve's arms tighten around you like he's shielding you from the storm, "It's not right. It's not fair that you're being forced to sequester yourself. You're being punished but what exactly was your crime?"

"I fell in love with Steve Rogers, that was my crime." You fell for the man everyone wanted, the man who was in the wrong place at the right time.

"I'm sorry," he whispers against the crown of your head.

"For what?"

"You warned me this would happen."

It was true. You told him exactly what would happen, but even you didn't anticipate exactly how bad things would get.

You'd been with Steve for just under a year. And up until a week ago, only a select few knew. You both agreed to keep it a secret from the public. You felt protective over the love you shared, it was more real than anything else you'd ever had. You wanted to keep it to yourself, out of the hands of people that would tear you both to shreds without a second thought.

Steve felt the same. Though he was more worried about the enemies he made over the years.

It made sense to protect the relationship, to protect yourselves until you were both ready. You wanted to protect him from what you knew was lurking around the corner. Steve was still so new to the 21st century. Dating in the public eye wasn't easy. Dating a Stark wasn't easy. For almost an entire year, you used every publicity trick in the book - and it worked.

But then, you heard it, the whispers, rumors bubbled about your newest future ex-lover.

You only agreed to going public because everyone told you it was time, because they promised that the timing couldn't have worked out better than this. It was better to do this on your own terms than have it leaked.

No one knew how bad it would get.

"Are you sure? There's no going back after this," you whisper, standing in the hallway of your apartment. You could practically hear the cameras flashing outside your apartment. You'd never been this nervous to leave your apartment before. You'd been through the plan a million times. You'd be exposed to the cameras for a matter of seconds. Happy was already waiting with the door to your SUV open, ready for you to jump in. You'd walk outside holding Steve's hand - a sort of silent announcement to the world. "It won't be easy."

"I don't care," Steve promises, kissing the palm of your hand. "I'm tired of hiding. I'm proud to call you mine."

You tenderly stroke his cheek, "And if it blows up in your pretty face?"

He smiles down at you, "You're worth it."

"We'll pay the price, I guess." But deep down, you know. You'll pay the price, he won't.

The cameras had never been that loud before. Even though your announcement went off without a hitch, even though your publicist couldn't have been more pleased, not even they could have predicted how bad things would get.

It seemed like the whole world was calling you that four letter word.

At first, it was mostly online. People were mean, you knew that. You were prepared for nasty comments. Steve's most staunch supporters thought he could do better. People rejoiced in the spectacle your love life turned into. You were a laughing stock all over again. All that you were prepared for. Then some rabid fans leaked your phone number.

You decided that it would be a good time to disconnect anyway.

But it didn't end there. Not even close.

The day after you were expected to make an appearance for a charity you founded. It was just a quick 2 minute speech. And though the event had been throughly vetted, you'd never forget the way your blood ran cold when mid-sentence someone screamed that four letter word over and over again until security dragged them out. You continued until your speech was done, but there was no hiding the way your hands trembled.

From what you heard, the video was still making its rounds online.

You were expected to make an appearance two days after that. An event honoring your father. An event you poured your blood, sweat, and tears into to make sure it was impeccable, an event worthy of honoring your father. The same event you were practically uninvited from.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's just me. I come in peace," Tony jokes.

"I'm glad," you sigh. "I was worried I was going to have to get another number."

Tony sighs into the phone, "How are you holding up?"

"I've been better."

"I'm afraid I don't come bearing good news."

"What now, Tony?"

"That event you had Friday night, the one for dad?"

You pinch the bridge of your nose. You already knew were this was going. "What about it?"

"They want me to take over for you."

You bitterly scoff, "This week just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?"

"You say the word and I'll tell them to fuck off."

"No, don't do that. It's for dad."

"You planned this whole thing single-handedly. You deserve to be the one up there." You don't say a word. He's right, you both know it. It doesn't change the situation you've been put in. "You are still going, right? Come on, you have to go."

"They broke into my house, Tony."

"What? Are you okay?"

"Happy just told me," you explain, sparing Tony the most gory details. "The one in L.A. Apparently, it is now covered in spray paint. You wanna guess what they wrote?"

"Where was your security?" Tony demands.

"Here. Trying to keep people off my sidewalk."

"I'm so sorry."

"I just - I don't think it's a good idea. At least until I get more security."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm glad you've got Steve there. At least I know he'll keep you safe."

You almost smile. Tony was never his biggest fan, but you mostly credit that to him being an overprotective big brother. And the situation you'd found yourself in did nothing to win Tony's over good graces, "It's not his fault, Tony."

"It kinda is, but I digress. Listen, we'll figure this out, alright? I'll go streak in front of the Tower if that'll take some heat off of you."

And though you effectively doubled your security in the last two days, nothing would change anyone's mind about you. You were the villain tainting their hero.

You broke down after that call, violently sobbing against Steve's shoulder. He just pulled you in even tighter.

It reminds you of why you're doing all this. So you can be together, out in the open. That in a world of boys, he's a gentleman.

You squeeze his hand, "You're worth it."

"I'm not worth having your reputation torn to shreds."

And maybe they're right about you. Maybe you do get love struck. Maybe his eyes are like the world's strongest liquor, and it went straight to your head. Maybe you do get love sick. Sure, your life has momentarily fallen apart. It's magic, madness, heaven, and sin, all rolled into one. But if they're going to call you a slut, it might be worth it for once. "But what if all I need is you?"

Steve Rogers Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

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ybklix · 6 months ago

Text

𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐧

★ pairing: ceo!leeminho x fem!reader

♡ part 3 (part one, part two) 𓂃 ࣪˖ part four

✦summary: You wanted to believe that after exposing each other’s feelings, you were in for a fairy tale tinted in the prettiest pink, until you get to know Minho's true colors and try to hold on, in the end, both of you are very different.

✭ content - tags - warnings: smut / sugar daddy / dom!possesive minho / needy minho / fluff / unprotected sex / fingering / teasing / oral sex

word count: 9.5k

( updated masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ )

That confession had come so genuinely and sincerely from you that you almost found yourself trembling once your tried to rejoin the crowd to continue celebrating Minho. You looked at him as he held your hand and walked you back to his party located in the huge, beautiful grassy grounds. You couldn't believe you liked someone, or at least the way you like Minho, you were crazy about every part of him and after the most ruthless act you can appreciate, comes with him one of the cutest and tenderest smiles you've ever seen, your new obsession was his tender laugh that made your body warm in seconds.

“Do you want to stay at my place tonight?” he whispered in your ear.

You watched him, his brown eyes sparkled and he looked at you with a tender smile, lifting his cheekbones and hiding his upper lip slightly, showing his cute front teeth. You nodded, you could tell he had a nice time and enjoyed the reunion created by his friend.

After hours, night fell and little by little the guests said goodbye to Minho, leaving only him, Hyunjin, you and the rest of the staff who were carefully cleaning the tables. You managed to drink your last glass of champagne before they cleared everything away and turned to see the man you liked standing a few yards away from you, his hands inside his pants pockets and looking off into the horizon as he talked to his friend.

“So you finally decided to stay with y/n, good for you, she was too good to waste her potential in sites like that” Hyunjin commented without measuring his words.

Minho smiled after nervously telling him that he saw himself with you, together. After a disastrous breakup, he was once again feeling the excitement and care of wanting to be with someone. However, hearing his friend remind him of some of what he was trying to ignore and overlook, like how he met you, was when his pleasant gesture vanished from his face and he tensed his jaw a little. Hyunjin noticed it instantly and managed to remedy himself.

“I mean I bet she's smart and pretty too…”

“She is” replied Minho seriously, remembering your long journey before meeting him, studying and working at the same time, but now that you were with him, Minho would make sure you lack absolutely nothing.

“You're welcome” Hyunjin told him amused squeezing Minho's shoulders trying to relax him a little “if it wasn't for my serious meddling problem, I would have never intervened in your life and you wouldn't have met her.”

Minho let out a chuckle and looked slyly in your direction.

“Definitely the kind of girl you would want to be with, very you” Hyunjin added looking at Minho seeing you, “but what would your mother say.”

Minho turned to look at Hyunjin, serious, but with some amusement on his face; Hyunjin looked at him with a look of shock and humor because they both knew what it meant, Minho had a long record of doing things that didn't please his conservative mother, until he dated Soyul, daughter of powerful and wealthy family; once Minho started dating Soyul, his mother believed she was finally getting her only son back; his mother adored her and even tried to persuade her son to forgive her, that little slips in relationships could happen, he didn't consider it so, he couldn't marry and give his life to someone he knew betrayed him and felt dirty being with another man.

“A 20 year old middle class college girl will be the reason for her death” Minho let out a laugh.

“And she studies arts, if that angered my parents, imagine yours” commented Hyunjin.

But he didn't care, as long as you were his, the rest didn't matter to him. After some more small talk, Minho thanked Hyunjin for the evening and said goodbye, approaching you, ready to go home with you. You drank alone, a little shy of interrupting the conversation of men.

“Don't drink too much, I want you to remember this whole night” Minho said to you in a mischievous tone, taking the cup from your hand and looking at you the only way he knows how and puts your weak knees.

You smiled broadly at him showing your teeth and narrowing your eyes, he pulled his body dangerously close to you, who on impulse you wrapped your arms around his neck, leaving them resting on his shoulders, almost jumping towards him, almost as if you had missed him in that period he was away from you; there was nothing else you wanted more right now than to feel being in Minho's arms.

“Let's go or I'll start to forget” you told him with your chin and eyes raised to look at him, close to his face.

Minho circled your body, watching you and enjoying your closeness.

“Let's go then, princess” he whispered to you.

He handed the cup to an employee and took you by the hand to walk to the parking lot, where he opened his car door for you and finally drove. This time he would make sure to be all gentleman for you from now on, Minho just wanted to be there for you, devotedly devoted to you, that's how intense he was, either he was not interested in you at all, or you were his whole world.

“Do you want us to go home already or do you want to do something… it's still Saturday night and you still look beautiful, if you want to do something fun…” spoke Minho once he took the road towards the city.

You smiled at him, not sure he could see you because he was focused with his eyes straight ahead and driving, you found him incredibly attractive doing the slightest thing that, if it wasn't for car armrests separating you, you'd be jumping his lap to feel his hard worked firm legs press against your butt and thighs. You always loved his side in profile and watching him take the wheel, you knew it from a week when you barely knew each other. You thought about how short the time passed, how in a week ago he seemed to disown you and now he was taking you in his car asking you what you wanted to do, telling you he would do everything for you, it seemed unreal how time treated you, still it helped a lot that you saw each other every day, you couldn't get enough of him, every day he had something new, Minho was quite a mature man, he would tell you the news happening in the country that he read on his phone while he had breakfast, but you were more of reading only the shows and celebrities section, or when he told you about some article he read and informed you every detail about it while you sat on his lap before moving your guts, you softly murmur to him “ah really?”, sometimes you didn't understand anything, still you loved to hear him talk. And not to mention the sex, for you everything was new with him, you felt like a first timer, each orgasm was stronger than the previous one, your experiences with college guys were nothing compared to what he made you feel.

Minho watched you for a second as you shook your head still with a smile plastered on your face.

“No?” he said in amazement, “Well I guess you want that kind of fun then” he added more mischievously.

You leaned on to him and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek which made Minho blush and smile.

After several songs on the radio later and Minho's small talk about every aspect of the party, you finally arrived at his house. You didn't want to let out a sigh in excitement, but you were excited, you were addicted to Minho and you weren't ashamed to admit it, there was no one in the world who knew how to touch and please you like he did.

You walked in a little tired, Minho had to pretend to be nice all afternoon, you had to smile all the time being the pretty girl intertwining Minho's arm all the time, you didn't want to, you felt kind of weird, but he wanted it that way, introducing you to everyone he knew as “a special friend”, you weren't upset at all by the term, at least Minho decided to be honest and not call you his girlfriend still, besides that was before he confessed to you that he really liked you. Curiosity invaded your body… thinking also if Minho was treating you with exclusivity, only touching you, not seeing anyone else and what it would feel like to really be his girlfriend, why someone like his ex-girlfriend would waste such an opportunity.

“We can watch a movie if you want” you turned to him, seductively playing with the opening of his jacket.

Minho saw you, smiling.

“I'll go take a shower, do you want to join me?”

You smiled, so far you hadn't had sex in the shower and you were so excited just thinking about it. You accompanied him to his bathroom where, he helped you take off your clothes, gently sliding that dress over you, he pulled down your panties and as if by magic every time he got close to you, your area was already incredibly sensitive. Minho admired your naked body for a few seconds and began to undress himself, he was just beginning to raise his enthusiasm, he knew perfectly well that you wanted to be fucked while the water ran down your body. You admired Minho's body and the swollen cock you scream for every day, you couldn't help it, you could do it with him every day anytime, it would always be a great experience with him.

“Do you like your water hot, warm…?” spoke Minho approaching his shower room.

“Mmm a little hotter than warm.”

“Just like you. Hotter” he replied.

Minho smiled, putting the water to run, little by little little vapor coming out from it, he walked towards you and took your waist joining your bodies together, you were surprised to feel his erection pink on you and he kissed you slowly, once again you wrapped your arms around his neck and Minho slowly decided to let his kiss escalate into something hotter and hotter, introducing his tongue and moving his lips provocatively against yours, while his hands traveled one to your ass squeezing it and the other tracing your waist until he reached your breast and played with your nipple. Your breath began to come in short gasps and your legs began to give out on you in seconds with just a kiss and the friction of his growing erection against your abdomen. You didn't want to look so needy only you so you decided to lower your right hand to his penis and start pulling and stroking it subtly, Minho moaned loudly at the feel of your hand while sucking on your lip, he stopped kissing you for a few seconds enjoying your touches while you looked at him proud that he is giving in too.

“Fuck, yes, it feels, good, keep doing it kitten, your strokes are so gentle” Minho gasped closing his eyes tightly and licking his lips as he bites them.

You lowered your other hand to him and felt his rigid length, slowly masturbating him, Minho was so desperate, the sound of the water falling and of friction of his member being pleasured, he had to come back to reality so between a long sigh he said:

“Let's get you wet…”

You looked up as you were for a moment watching closely the way your hand was moving on his big cock, you smiled sideways as that was double entendre, although you were already in itself wet and horny.

“Not like that, let's go to the shower honey” he laughed softly.

You let go and walked into the hot water, making you startle a little as you felt the warm sensation on your naked body. You both laughed, pulling your bodies together so that the pressure of the water reached out to wet you both. You raised your gaze to Minho and let out a giggle again as you saw his hair flattened by the shower and as he pushed his long hair away from his eyes. Minho grabbed your arm and moved a little away from the direct stream, letting it fall on your back and ass, and he kissed you again, this time more desperate, kisses down your body, you could not even respond, he suddenly took full control of your body and pleasure once again, you gasped in astonishment as you suddenly felt it and the temperature of the water running down your back suddenly felt ten times hotter.

You struggled to breathe, the steam enclosed the place and your hot breath didn't help at all, you looked down, finding Minho with his face buried in your pussy, his jaw moving with effort to get the right spots stimulated and his straight nose bumping against your skin; you were feeling so good that you started to lose your balance and had to lean on his shoulder, trembling; Minho started to thrust you with his fingers feeling the tightness of your soft lubricated cunt walls, Minho was crazy about your moans and feeling your insides, he could cum just fantasizing about having you.

You were about to reach your peak, panting harder and harder indicating it, until you felt nothing, all your load suddenly stopped, feeling Minho stop what he was doing, you looked at him confused and with a slight pout on your face as he stood up again, you were soaking wet, and not from the shower water, you were ready to explode in orgasm and give your sweet juices to your very “special friend”. Minho smiled softly at your discontent and leaving you sexually frustrated, he held your waist and leaned you back against the wall a little roughly, he couldn't take it anymore, his cock was about to explode too if he didn't enter you, you understood instantly and wrapped your legs around his lower torso. Minho awkwardly took his sensitive cock letting out a groan and positioned it at your entrance, slowly pushing it further in letting out a sigh, almost as if he could finally breathe.

You watched brazenly as his length pushed into you leaving you breathless once you felt it hit your deepest spot, once all the way inside, you looked up staring at him, Minho had an expression of being slightly concentrated and had his mouth half open, with his gaze lost on your neck and lips; within seconds he started to move, feeling you slowly being ruined by his big cock, no matter how many times he fucked you, you couldn't adjust to his size and still you worshipped him madly, it was the best part. Minho began to forcefully thrust his cock into your cunt in a fast and frantic rhythm as he held you tightly by your ass and thighs. You tried to maintain his intense eye contact but you couldn't, you were lost in the myriad of sensations, pleasure, desire, pain, as you rested your arms on his shoulders and played with his wet hair.

“Look into my eyes while I fuck you” he ordered unexpectedly in a husky voice.

You wanted to enjoy every movement by closing your eyes and rolling them but suddenly following Minho's directions turned you on more and staying obedient in a task you found difficult made your body temperature hotter. Each stroke enveloped Minho's cock, feeling his every inch of your wet pussy, he could fade there in your arms if only you knew how you made him feel. Minho had stopped feeling intensely for quite some time now, until you crossed his path.

You couldn't hold it back any longer and dug your nails hard under the back of his neck as you let all your tension finally release, sighing vigorously and cumming with your lover's cock still inside you, which he soon did too, releasing himself into you, grunting and exclaiming in a harsh voice “fuck” as he filled you with his cum.

The rest of the bath was done shyly and a little awkwardly, helping to put shampoo in Minho's hair, laughing as he complained dramatically and screaming that you were treating his scalp roughly, just Minho being him.

As you left wrapped in towels, you noticed a distinctive bag from one of the most famous lingerie brands on Minho's bed, confused you turned to look at him since you hadn't noticed it when you entered his room minutes before. Minho noticed your look and said,

“I ordered it for you when we were at the party because I did think you would stay, you should have more pairs here just in case. I had them washed, don't worry.”

You approached towards the big bag shyly trying to process everything he had said, thinking how come he could bring these things up and be one step ahead… normally a simple guy would be like 'oh yeah, we fucked and I forgot those little details that comes with once we're done'; but it wasn't just any guy, it was Lee Minho. You felt like you were in TV drama series, the rich guy always taking care of the girl.

“Thank you” you murmured shyly to him and pulled out the set of comfortable but sexy silk pajamas.

Minho finished before getting ready, putting on his comfortable pajama pants and a simple white t-shirt, then he saw you, who still wasn't finished, he approached you with a pure and tender look, he didn't know how to explain it but it was something that overwhelmed him and grew more and more every second he spent with you.

You watched him approach you, thinking how cute he looked wearing simple pajamas loose to his body, normally you saw him well dressed but now he was so relaxed in his own room ready to go to bed, you didn't think he could look any cuter.

You were putting moisturizer on your legs and you felt Minho sit on the bed.

“You should live here” he said suddenly.

That sentence made you stop your activity and you looked at him incredulously, shaking your head in disbelief.

“We've known each other for how long...”

Minho sighed in annoyance, he wanted to have you all the time, he knew it was a big step, but, he just knew he didn't want to be alone, he just wanted to be with you.

“It doesn't matter it's just that” he turned to look at you with his big eyes almost pleading, “...this house is too big and I don't want to feel lonely, I want to be with you.”

You didn't know what to say, but for a second the curiosity to know everything behind that sentence won you over.

“You lived here with your ex-girlfriend?”

Minho denied softly with a frown.

“No, I moved out immediately, you gave this house meaning.”

You sat down next to him, placing your hand on his in a no brainer, again you were speechless.

“You don't know me yet, what if I'm too messy for you” you joked.

“You could never make me hate you...” he blurted out suddenly with a submissive look and a subdued tone, looking you straight in the eye.

You blinked perplexed by the sudden rush of feelings inside you, you couldn't explain it, it wasn't excitement, but it was something physical and at the same time internal, Minho had to watch what he said and all those little acts he did with you or... you thought you might end up falling in love. Minho took your hand and directed it to his cheek, closing his eyes enjoying your warm touch, you had never held Minho's face like that and it suddenly felt so good that you had to put your other hand on his cheek, stroking him softly with your thumb.

“Then let me live in your apartment" he added in a soft whisper with a small sweet complicit smile.

You smiled, how could he talk nonsense, you couldn't imagine Minho living in an apartment smaller than his closet and kitchen, the idea of him in a place he didn't belong seemed funny and out of place for you.

“I need you, y/n” he continued, opening his eyes and looking at you in a way that melted everything inside you, “I'm crazy about you.”

Minho lowered his gaze to your lips and came closer to kiss you, you accepted him surprised, following his slow pace; you didn't understand how he could say those things while you looked with your wet hair unbrushed and without a drop of makeup on you, but he sounded so sincere that it made you question so many things... he could live tasting your lips always and every part of you, this time he was in no hurry at all and wanted to enjoy every second of the thin skin of your lips.

One thing escalated to another and Minho gently placed you on top of him, positioning your knees on either side of his thighs and intensifying your kisses, in which you were more and more breathless and sighing against each other. All this felt so intimate that you could predict that if he fucked you it would not be about that kind of hard and rough fucking you usually have, but about making love again. He roamed your body running his hands under your blouse, he loved touching you and feeling every part of you with his strokes.

You parted for a moment, catching your breaths and looking at each other's slightly swollen lips.

“Fuck me again” he almost begged.

Minho held you by the waist; you let yourself fall gently onto his lap feeling his bulging erection, you swallowed somewhat nervously, wanting to make it so nice and smooth that you didn't want to ruin it. Minho needed you, he needed you one more time only so he could breathe, he could beg you just now if you decided to play with him and refuse.

You slid his pajamas and underwear off making him moan, and there it was, one of the many reasons how Minho's body reacted when it came to you. You sighed trying to remove your pajama shorts and pushed the fabric of your underwear aside, inserting his cock in your cunt once again, you moaned at the new contact in a short span of time and moved up and down slowly with the help of Minho's grip, both of you panting; you hugged him and leaned your head a little on his right shoulder, thinking about how fucking good it felt to belong to him, as if you were joined together like puzzle pieces. You also thought about again feeling his bare cock unprotected and how that could lead you into a very big mistake, a fucking child under the zodiac sign of leo, a spoiled attention seeker and impulsive little fucker, just like your relationship, you thought, which would somehow ironically be the perfect creation of both of you.

[...]

A few moments later you both had a movie marathon in Minho's mini cinema room, you couldn't believe he had a room just for that, you expected it from your friend who studied cinema but not from him, a simple rich man... suddenly you remembered Felix, feeling wrong and a bad friend, plus you hadn't talked about what happened “that” day when you stupidly told him you liked him... but putting it in retrospect, you felt completely different about both confessions, when you told Felix and when you told Minho, you didn't want to think about it, you were hugely avoiding the problem.

But it didn't matter, you felt so comfortable in Minho's strong arms just now that you ignored your thoughts. You were leaning against his chest, hugging him. Minho smiled as he discreetly checked the time on his cell phone, he leaned his head over you more and whispered sweetly “Happy birthday” you stirred a little from his chest and looked up to see him a little confused.

“It’s past midnight so, happy birthday, y/n” he spoke again sweetly.

Once again you thought that if he kept being this sweet and tender, you might end up doing something fatal like falling in love...

“You still haven’t told me what you want for your birthday...” added Minho.

You grimaced thoughtfully, eliciting tenderness from him; you truly hadn’t thought about it... you didn't know what you wanted, if you had never met him, you'd be spending a sleepover with Hari and partying the rest of the day with her and Felix.

“I don't know... I can’t think of anything material” you replied.

Minho raised an eyebrow in disapproval. But you really just wanted to be with him.

“You're sure? I can give you anything.”

You smiled amused and decided to joke about the situation, it was amazing how easily he said it and that you knew perfectly well that he wasn't joking, yes he could get it for you.

“Mmm well... will you give me a car?” you commented with false enthusiasm.

“I’ll buy you three,” he said with a smile and a serious manner.

“I wasn’t serious, please don't” you said in mild panic.

Minho let out a soft chuckle.

[…]

The next morning, you woke up so comfortable in Minho's big bed, you had slept so well, curled up on his chest, feeling the warmth of his body. You were about to get out of bed when you noticed that Minho was no longer there, but he quickly came in with a big smile and already dressed up, looking more handsome than yesterday, you thought.

“Good morning, do you want breakfast in bed or do you want to go down for it, princess” he said approaching you.

You looked at him still not fully awake, causing him tenderness.

“I can come down” you spoke in a hoarse voice.

“Okay, go on, I cooked for you. Oh and pick out what clothes you want to wear today, I'll send share it right away.”

Minho came up to you and gave you a soft kiss on your cheek making you surprised and blush.

“Do you feel 21 already? Be all big girl for me in a while” he said, winking at you.

[…]

You spent the whole afternoon together with Minho, usually you didn't plan anything special on your birthday but he made it special this year, he took you out to do activities on a relaxed Sunday, you visited open places and explored cute locations, all the stuff of a date.

However, your best friends kept insisting that you should do their little tradition every year which consisted of spending it with them and two cakes, one bought, nice and pretty, and one experimental baked by Felix, that used to be your favorite.

Felix's call puzzled you too much, luckily you were comfortably at Minho's house, while he was doing some things and you happened to be without him around. You swallowed nervously and answered.

“Finally I can hear your voice, happy birthday” Felix said from the other side of the line with his characteristic thick voice that surprised you a little, you had a while since you haven't heard him.

“Thank you, Lix.”

“So, what are we doing today? Can I see you today?”

Oh no, you thought, you had told Hari all about it, about how you wanted to spend your day with Minho, but you couldn't tell Felix. You thought for a few seconds, looking towards Minho's direction where he left a few minutes ago, you didn't want to, you didn't want to leave him alone, but you didn't want to leave Felix either.

“Mmm I'll be with my parents” you lied, as the only feasible option.

“You'll be going out of town?” he quickly replied in astonishment.

“No, they'll be coming to my apartment.”

“Ahh then you'll be at your apartment.”

“Yes...” you replied hoping he wouldn't decide to suddenly show up at your door.

“Okay” he suddenly said cheerfully which weirded you out, “I'll see you tomorrow then, okay? Happy birthday.”

He said then cut off, you found his tone so unusual, you knew he was up to something, he wasn't good at hiding things. And the truth was that Felix had insisted to Hari to organize a surprise party for you since he wanted to see you and have a nice time, Hari disagreed since she knew perfectly well that you would be with Minho all day, since, you told her a few moments ago via text message, after she wished you happy birthday and asked about Minho: «I think this is getting serious», scaring your friend in a good way, but feeling bad for Felix.

She couldn't lie to Felix, she didn't have time to make up an excuse by saying you would be busy, and just used the old excuse that you would be with your parents; Felix knew that in a way you lied to him since yes, your story matched Hari's, spending your birthday with your parents, only Hari said you would be out of town and then you confirmed that you would be in your place. So Felix immediately called your friend and excitedly told her that they could still have the surprise party at your place with the help of your parents if only Hari would distract you for a moment, plus she was the only person who had an extra key to your apartment, to which she shouted “No!”, they didn't have to involve your parents, so finally Felix got caught in the lie.

Hari had to confess to him that you wouldn't be at your apartment evading saying the reason why you would be busy, Felix was so confused that he wanted to know what was really going on, so he insisted on hosting the party anyway at your apartment, making Hari finally give in. Meanwhile, Hari had to beg you to come to your apartment, that she wanted to see you right away and spend your birthday together with her, even though deep down, it was Felix manipulating her.

Felix spared himself in asking why you were not at your place on a Sunday and besides on your special date, to his knowledge, you had no other close friends to celebrate with, but he didn't have to ask Hari, he would soon find out by his own means, since you fucked, he noticed you weird and if that was ruining your closeness, then he was willing to forget it and continue to be your friend.

On the other hand you saw Minho come out of the hallway from which he lost his silhouette for a few minutes while he was busy with something, and returned to you with a smile and two elegant little boxes.

“Happy birthday” he repeated, handing you both boxes placing them in the palms of his hands.

You smiled softly at him and took both boxes, assuming they were jewelry and indeed, in one of was a nice thin golden ring with details of small diamonds embedded and, in the other, a silver ring with small differences in the design.

“I don't quite know if you wear gold or silver so I brought you both” spoke Minho trying to act cool.

You looked at him with a smile and leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you. I think with my outfit goes the silver one.”

Minho let out air in a soft laugh and helped you put it on your middle finger.

“How did you know my ring size?” you said in amazement as you noticed it fit perfectly.

Minho drew one of his tender, complicit smiles, lifting his shoulders; he was more attentive to your details than you thought.

[…]

Hours later, you didn't want to bother Minho by telling him that you had to go to your apartment since Hari insisted on seeing you; to which he sweetly offered to be there with you if it didn't bother you, to which you replied “of course not”, you were excited that Hari finally met Minho in person, and not under a random picture that Hyunjin sent her that time when she was handling your 'dating' account.

Your friend had two choices, either you walked through that door alone, or you did it together with Minho. You were nervous on the way in wishing your apartment wasn't so messy, or that Minho wouldn't find some detail, still, you were excited because once Hari left you could fuck him in your bed, it was fun just thinking that you could do it everywhere, this morning you did it in the kitchen after you ate the delicious breakfast he prepared for you, you both still had so many parts and places to discover.

And, to the bad luck of the three of you, to Hari, Felix and you, you entered together with Minho through that door.

“Surprise!” shouted Hari and Felix at the same time as they came out from behind your couch.

But it was indeed a surprise, the smile of the three of you vanished as each of you saw each other and for Felix, as he saw you enter with another man, who was very familiar to him, Lee Minho. Felix didn't understand anything. The only one smiling there, was Minho not knowing what was going on.

“Happy birthday… y/n” Felix approached you with unsure steps without clearing his gaze from Minho. “We haven't spoken well since that day” he hugged you.

Minho immediately caught the tone he used when he remarked “that day”, what day… what was he talking about? Minho looked at you tensely, he couldn't help but get ideas and jealous in milliseconds when it came to you.

“Ah, Yongbokkie, what are you doing here?” greeted Minho with a smile while squeezing him by the arm, a little harder than usual. “Why didn't you attend my birthday yesterday?”

You gave Hari a dirty look for not warning you that Felix would be there, but suddenly Minho's tone of confidence towards Felix surprised you more than the party itself; you had completely forgotten that they knew each other, and that they greeted each other that night at Hyunjin's hotel.

“What are you doing here?” replied Felix reluctantly in disbelief.

Minho blinked innocently with a small arrogant smile on his face as he noticed the sour tone in which Felix, a junior to him, suddenly spoke to him.

“I came with y/n” he said proudly.

“What… since when do you guys even know each other?” spoke Felix again.

Felix had so many questions, his mind didn't understand how it was possible for you to suddenly hook up with Lee Minho, you didn't live in the same area, there was no medium which could connect you directly, plus he was much older than you.

“Since when did we date?” suddenly blurted out Minho, grabbing your waist, he found it amusing to play a little with the poor boy in distress, but his smile faded as he remembered that the way you met was not something you proudly explain out loud, Minho continued, provoking Felix, “She works for me and then we matched on a blind date, I guess destiny really wanted us together.”

You looked incredulously at Minho, why would he say you were dating, he never asked you to be his girlfriend, and poor Felix opened his mouth in astonishment, suddenly he went from knowing everything about you to knowing nothing. It couldn't have been a worse day for him, his heart broke trying to process everything that was going on.

“Let's eat cake, or gimbap, it's y/n's favorite” Hari interrupted hurriedly.

The air was too tense, Felix tried to calm down and saw the similarity of the two, between you and Minho, he came to the conclusion that you were both little bastards. Felix couldn't hate you and he hated himself for that, because he should be bitter, you fucked him and told him you liked him and then you ignore him and suddenly you show up with another man, what the fuck were you playing to? Felix knew Minho well, his Lee family was pretty close with Felix's Lee's; Felix's older sister had a huge crush on Minho but he never reciprocated, he thought it was odd that he reciprocated to you, to someone much younger than Minho, Felix thought the idiot liked them young, though last thing he heard it was that, he broke up with his long term girlfriend and was single, until you came along.

Minho kept looking at you tenderly while you blew out your candles on the cake after singing happy birthday to you, he decided to stop the childish nonsense behavior and focus on you, although he couldn't deny that there was that tingle of annoyance in him when he noticed Felix's negative attitude, Minho knew how to instantly recognize another jealous man, it was obvious that Felix was and, if he was like that, it was because there was a reason, for the moment Minho didn't want to give the matter a second thought because he knew he would go crazy and lose his mind when he found out that you could have been with Felix before him.

Hari was trying to soften the atmosphere, which Minho quite liked, he liked your best friend so much that he almost forgot that she is or was also part of that shady place where he met you, as Hari was currently with Chan, another close friend of his. After eating, Minho asked you softly where your bathroom was, to which you answered that it was down the hallway, to the left, and when he went into it, he could not help but notice that in front of it was your room, since the door was open. Curiosity flooded Minho and he slipped in without anyone being able to see him, he smiled as he breathed in the nice scent it had despite being a little messy, you had clothes on your bed, on your desk chair, shopping mall bags still on the floor and your closet open…. yet he inspected every detail, he had liked your apartment, you entered through the door, to the left was the small kitchen with its countertop, off to the left was the narrow laundry room; in the short entrance hallway was another closet, opposite the entrance was your living room decorated with bookshelves, your TV, and through the window diagonally to your living room, your dining room and finally to the right, the narrow hallway leading to your bedroom and across from the bathroom. Still, he thought you were worthy of a larger space, where all your clothes could fit and not be cluttered… and then, on your desk, a picture of you and Felix, smiling in what appeared to be a theater, Minho grimaced, thinking that he must really be special to you since you had no other picture of anything or anyone.

Minho came out and spent some time talking to Hari, while Felix remained silent, thinking he had to talk to you, but alone. Once it got later, you saw them leave, not without Felix first confirming in a serious tone that he would talk to you tomorrow, making you nervous and reminding you that you were upset with Minho.

You closed the door and turned to see Minho annoyed, he was standing behind you, with no expression until he saw your face and raised an eyebrow. You tensed your jaw and ignored him, heading towards your room as you tried to remove your earrings, you were so angry you weren't thinking straight.

“You need to leave, now” you told him curtly turning your back on him.

Minho immediately reacted offended and followed you, you didn't want him to be there so you wanted to push him away from your door, but he was through reaching his arms out towards the door frame.

“What happened now, why are you upset?” he also replied somewhat defensively.

You raised your gaze looking at him, mad again.

“Why? Why did you have to say I'm your girlfriend, you never asked me to and you lied with that blind date thing” you exploded suddenly, without thinking too much, maybe it was just because of the heated moment and seeing Felix's hurt look after Minho told him that tactlessly.

Minho let out a laugh unable to believe what he was hearing, he had been holding back his annoyance, but now that you decided to let it all out, he had to as well. Minho raised his eyebrows in annoyance looking down at you with authority from above and ran his tongue along his cavity, causing you to recoil until you touched the edge of your bed, confused and a little afraid of his reaction.

“Why does it bother you so much if that boy knows whether we're going out or not, huh? You fucked him, didn't you?” he yelled angrily at you, his hands on his hips and the vein in his neck standing out, his eyes widened further, that wasn't all he had to say, “So what if I lied saying how we met, or do you want the whole world to know that I met you being a fucking whore?”

You stared into his manic eyes as your breathing became heavy, that last one had hurt you, he was right, he had the right to be ashamed of how you met; you didn't want to see him anymore, he had never yelled at you like that, you dropped onto your bed, staring at the floor, suddenly you wanted to cry.

“And of course I want you to be my girlfriend, I want you to be mine and if you plan to reject me, then tell me now and I won't waste my time” Minho ran his hand across his jaw annoyed diverting his gaze to your window.

You couldn't speak, your heart was pounding, you thought about how he wasn't even your boyfriend yet and you were already fighting and he felt ashamed of you, how the fuck was something like that going to work. You really liked him but hearing the truth hurt too much, maybe you will always be different? You raised your gaze to see him, your eyes slightly crystallized, Minho sighed in exasperation as he noticed the silence and knew he over opened his mouth, once again he said hurtful things and confirmed it when he turned to see you, sitting on your bed looking at him with glowing eyes and a slight pout. He felt horrible, he would never forgive himself for leaving you like that; why did he have to be himself and be aggressive to the one person he wants to take such good care of in the world.

“Y/n, I…” he tried to remedy himself.

“Just go away, Minho. Get out of my sight now” you sighed tiredly and sadly and cut off eye contact.

Minho denied softly and knelt down in front of you seeking your gaze.

“Don't be like this please, it's your special day” he tried to cheer you up, as Minho didn't know how to apologize, “Let me make it up to you, yes?” he tried to take your chin, but you rejected him, you wished he would get away from you because once close, you couldn't think straight, “You shouldn't be like this… I will make it up to you so much…” he whispered softly running his gentle hands down your naked thighs under your dress.

You hated yourself so much, you wanted to hit him and push him away, he had called you a whore to your face and now he sought to please you, you thought if you weren't something else for him to take his sexual discharge with… but it would be hypocritical of you to blame him, because you adored every touch of him that you couldn't let his hands leave your body.

“Minho, don’t…” you whispered a little excitedly placing your hand over his that he was slowly stimulating your clitoris through the underwear fabric, that morning he had told you to walk only in your underwear under your dress just for him.

“What do you want huh…?” he murmured seductively with his mouth half open concentrating on making gentle circles over your spot with his fingertips, “You want me to stop… to go away… just say the word and I'll do it in a second.”

You couldn't speak, you were already so aroused that you moaned at the feel of his fingers at your sensitive entrance. You wanted him to apologize. And as if Minho read your mind, he took your hand and positioned it on his cheek.

“I'm sorry” he said sincerely looking at you with his huge sharp eyes, “Please forgive me, y/n.” he whimpered.

Minho didn't want to let you go, he would beg for you if necessary.

“Let me show you how sorry I am” he said leaving innocence behind and slowly slid your panties over your legs, once again caressing your wet pussy.

Minho grabbed your thighs and pulled you closer to him, lifted your dress and started eating your cunt.

[…]

You had never felt so nervous in college, not even in your final exams to how you did now. At any moment Felix could appear and want to talk.

You cautiously continued your classes and it wasn't until after lunch when Felix fixedly summoned you to talk on a bench near his faculty. You were nervous and felt strange.

Felix had overthought it, he loved you so much that if you were happy… he would seek his own happiness too.

However, his thoughts were more structured and mature than with what he was about to tell you, what was in his mind did not match his mouth, his heart had betrayed him.

“I just want you to tell me you love him, say you love Minho and only then can I back off.”

Felix cursed himself for saying it that way, he didn't want to sound aggressive, he had a rehearsed dialogue to say, but it just didn't work for him.

You looked into his eyes. Nothing. you felt nothing but guilt; you wanted to cry, to beg the universe that if it had always been Felix you wouldn't be suffering. It was never in your plans to be that kind of girl, that no matter what she did, she would end up hurting someone, much less had you planned to meet Minho but… you couldn't stay away from him; you didn't know if it was love, he and you still weren't on good terms since yesterday, he only fucked you to try to remedy it but he left you more ruined, especially his sweet after sex care.

“We just… we just started to date…” you said without thinking.

“You're dating him without being in love?” interrupted Felix and for a second he wanted to ask what bothered him the most, are you dating him for money?

Felix wasn't dumb, since a week ago you wear nicer and more expensive clothes, your countenance shines more, you stopped working the rest of your part time jobs.

“I… I can't leave Minho.”

“Why?” he asked.

Why, you asked yourself.

[…]

That afternoon you had to follow Minho to another of his meetings, you still didn't talk to him properly, you just said “yes, no” and ignored him every time he tried to tell you something. It wasn't him, you thought, it was you, you were hurt by Felix, and it hurt you that you liked and needed him so much, that's why you hated falling in love; somehow or other he had to hurt you and nothing could be as nice and pure as you wished it could be.

When you were waiting for Minho in the waiting room, the first executive came out of the room, you looked at him out of the corner of your eye but your face lit up when you saw that it was someone you knew, he also recognized you instantly and approached you to greet you. During your second semester you mistakenly took an economics class taught by him, Yang Jeongin, it was really a system error that you couldn't fix, a guy who was supposed to take economics was taking the art history class, while you were stuck in Yang’s class; you had no choice but to tell Jeongin and take his class, which he found quite funny and helped you credit his subject so it didn't affect your GPA.

Jeongin sat next to you and you began to chat comfortably, finally you could forget your anger and sadness for a few moments.

“I guess you did decide on some economics then, so well did I teach?” mentioned Jeongin as she saw you there, dressed smartly with a portfolio.

You laughed softly.

“Oh no, I work as an assistant.”

“Ahh, from whom? From knowing you were looking for that kind of job I’d hire you right when you finished the subject, never hurts a little extra help.”

Your smile faded a little, as you earnestly said his name.

“Lee Minho.”

Jeongin made a grimace that you found amusing.

“Good luck with that. He's got a reputation.”

And just as he said it, your short period of laughter and relaxation ended as you saw Minho walk out with a bunch of other men, he quickly approached you without saying a word, just looked at Jeongin heavily for seconds and then looked at you.

“Well, I have to go, Jeongin, it was nice to see you.”

“Same, anytime, cutie.”

You stood up from the sofa just like Jeongin and Minho watched him leave with his gaze glued to every step he took. Then he turned to look at you, once again with that manic look from yesterday. Minho dragged you away taking you by the arm, leading you to a private place.

“You know Yang Jeongin?” he spat raising his eyebrow.

“Yes…” you tried to answer without giving him importance and driven because he grabbed your arm tightly and started acting weird.

“Why do you know him? Did you fuck him too?” claimed Minho to you.

You opened your mouth in surprise, you wanted to claim so many things to him, how is it possible for him to get like this with a minimal interaction with a man and if he never plans to let go of your past, believing that you fucked every guy he sees you with. You didn't want to waste your energy and didn't answer him.

“Tell me, tell me now” he yelled and then almost whimpered.

You wanted to ignore him but from his anger he went to a second to looking listless, worrying you a little. This was completely ruining Minho, it wasn't enough for him to fuck you, he wanted to live under skin forever.

“I never fucked anyone but you on that stupid app, you were the first and the last and I'm sick of you never letting go of the fucking thing” you approached him annoyed.

Minho tried to catch his breath, he was feeling too much in such a short time he didn't know what was wrong with him, he had never been so obsessed and without thinking he hugged you, feeling your body for the first time after a few frustrating hours of ignoring him.

[…]

Finally it was Minho's birthday, you wished things weren't as they were now… the two of you didn't talk about anything, he just left you at home making you feel empty, why couldn't he communicate what he felt, you thought, what bothered him so much after you told him the truth, genuine and the one he wanted to hear so much.

You were determined to talk to him once you got to his office, which you were heading to, after you finished your classes, but the ringing of your phone interrupted you, it was exactly him.

“Yes?” you replied.

“What exit you take usually when you're on your way to work?”

You frowned in confusion and looked in front of you.

“By the east parking lot?” replied Minho, to which you were surprised he knew the answer, “Turn around.”

You did it slowly and there was his car standing a few yards away. You hung up, you saw him get out of his car, looking so handsome and radiant as if nothing of the last few days had affected him, you missed that Minho so much that you wanted to run into his arms, but you resisted and took your time until you reached him.

“Your boss authorized your day off today” he said sweetly with a smile, “And… I'm so sorry… don't make me feel bad in my…”

“Happy birthday” you interrupted him by placing your index finger over his lips amusedly.

Minho smiled broadly and grabbed you by the waist. You still needed a lot of answers… but seeing him so cute there, you couldn't help it, you wanted that Minho, not the one who suddenly made you cry.

“I have the best gift right now” he murmured on your lips and kissed you, enjoying every second after not doing it for more than 24 hours. “It will only be better if you agree to go with me.”

You looked at him curiously, waiting for him to continue.

“Let's drive to the beach and would you skip a couple of classes early tomorrow morning for me, yes..?” he asked tenderly.

You nodded; but you were about to speak saying you hadn't even prepared so he interrupted you.

“I prepared everything for you in the car. Please take it, I spent hours looking for the perfect makeup and clothes. Let's go now.”

You got in the car, feeling again like your first fleeting and exciting encounters. All the way Minho held your hand, sometimes shifting his hand to your thigh, and finally arriving at his beach house, he sat on a chair and positioned you on his thighs, apologizing for everything he had said and done and harshly explained that… you make him feel in a unique way. You saw him so bad, almost about to cry…you never thought you had that effect on him.

“Don't be like that on your special day” you took his chin and gently repeated the same thing he told you when he was about to make you cry.

Minho smiled sideways, caressing your thighs and kissed you softly… he knew that maybe it was too soon to tell you I love you, so in the meantime he would make you feel his love as much as he can until he feels it's the right time to say it.

Minho squeezed your thighs and intensified the kiss, ready to show you how much he loved you, but the sudden movement of you standing up from his lap surprised him.

“You didn't bring something nice to assimilate you unwrap your gift?” you said playfully.

Minho laughed, of course he had, he wanted to make you his while you wore something nice for him; he stood up and searched through the suitcases he ordered packed for you, pulling out a nice black lingerie set decorated with bows. You didn't wait any longer and undressed in front of him, Minho bit his lip and helped you put on the lingerie giving you light touches like, rolling his hand down your pussy as he helped you put on your panties, squeezing your tits as he helped you put on the top, making you moan.

Minho stepped back a little and admired you.

“But what a beautiful gift” he moved closer to you and kissed you, “you shouldn't have…” he whispered against your lips.

Minho took you by the waist and lift you up to the stairs, to his room, you still didn't process that he had a beach house, the most normal thing in the world for him.

He started kissing you passionately, placing himself gently on top of you, he didn't stop kissing you for a moment, your lips, your jaw, your neck, while his left hand was having all the fun in the world playing with her pussy until it was well wet and lubricated. Minho pulled you up, he wanted to bury his face in your tits as he made you his, so he quickly removed his tight pants, running his hand down his length a little, you were ready to feel it, no matter how much it hurt, as your feelings for him. And he fucked you with your nice outfit on, holding you tightly around your waist making you fall heavily on his cock, taking it all, making you whimper with pleasure. Minho continued until he cummed and stained your beautiful garment.

You were panting non-stop, and no, the best part for you was not the orgasm, but the sweet caresses and words Minho was telling you after finishing sex… that's when you had an answer, it was hard for you to admit it and a little uncomfortable but, there was no doubt that you had fallen in love with him.

You came out of Minho, exhausted and a mess, a couple of minutes later pushing you over the edge; he still with his breath hitching, gently took your body and lay down next to you, putting his arm behind your head for support.

“Did you like it, princess?”

You nodded apologetically with your cheeks red.

“You were wonderful, I couldn't have had a better birthday present” he began to stroke your hair.

“Welcome to thirty” you told him amused.

“Can I be your boyfriend now? I'll treat you very well, princess.”

You were startled, you thought he would never say it, still you commented to him amused:

“Thirty affected your brain, you shouldn't mix birthdays with anniversaries. I do want to be your girlfriend, but let's celebrate the 26th, because when it's October 25th it will only be about you” you said enthusiastically, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.

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₊˚⊹ ᰔ TAGLIST: @stayceebs97 @linocz @kimseungminsprincess @xhazmania @strayzid @jisunglyricist

#lee know #lee know skz #lee know stray kids #lee know smut #skz scenarios #stray kids #stray kids smut #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #skz smut #lee know x you #lee know x y/n #kpop smut #Spotify #lee know fluff

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yandere-daydreams · 1 year ago

Text

tw - unbalanced power dynamics, prolonged imprisonment, wrongful imprisonment.

You’d gotten a key to his office, somehow.

For as much freedom as Wriothesley tried to allow the prisoners Fortress of Meropide, he couldn’t help but wonder how you pulled that little trick off. There were only two copies, one of which he wore at his waist at all hours of the day while the other remained inside a sealed vault, locked behind a code only he knew. He couldn’t begin to imagine how you’d done it, and yet, there you were, emerging at the top of the staircase that led into his only private space, toying with a small bronze key and smiling too brightly for any part of your flawless expression to be genuine. The dubiously-acquired key was slid into one of the pockets of your cover-alls, your smile gifted the company of a breathy laugh, and then, any distance he might’ve been able to keep between the two of you was closed as you clambered onto his desk, stealing what little concentration he still had away. With a sigh, he pushed his chair back, giving you his full attention. This was a familiar routine, one he didn’t have the energy to fight. It wasn’t as if his resistance had ever done much good, not when it came to you.

You spoke first, predictably. He’d never really been the instigating type. “Good morning, your grace.”

“My cigarettes,” he said, nodding towards the corner of his desk where a red-striped paper box had sat a few seconds ago. “If you’re desperate enough to steal, you would’ve tried asking nicely first.”

Rolling your eyes, you produced his missing vice and handed it back to him, but not without snagging one for yourself and stowing it away for later use. It was a minor infraction, though – nothing he couldn’t write off as the price of your visit. “You know,” he went on, leaning back in his seat. “That kind of thing can add time onto your sentence. Not all the guards are going to be as forgiving as me.”

“None of the other guards have anything worth stealing.” Your tone was light, your answer given easily. Sometimes, he tried to picture what you’d look like frowning, yelling, or worse, with pursed lips, clenched fists, tears running down your cheeks as you tried to maintain what little dignity you had left, but he always came up empty. You were good at that – knowing just how much you could show without giving yourself away entirely. If Wriothesley was a crueler man, he may have been tempted to try and take you apart himself. “And even if they did, I’d still come to you first.” His response came in the form of an unimpressed scowl, and you chuckled. “C’mon! Even your heart can’t be cold enough not to find that at least a little bit touching, boss.”

Another sigh, this one somehow more drained than the last. “It’d mean more to me if your rehabilitation seriously,” and then, tapping his leg, “But, my treasured possessions aren’t all you’re here for, right?”

It was your turn to play exasperated, now, to groan and let your head lull to the side as you lowered yourself off of the desk and onto his lap, straddling his thigh and wrapping your arms around his neck. This was part of your routine, too – his favorite part, as loathed as he’d be to ever say that out loud. Try as he might, he had yet to find anything that could compare to the way your weight rested against his, to how your body head warmed just a touch of the chill that’d seeped under his skin and settled years ago. Not many things were able to live in the fortress, not for very long, and yet, here you were, just as radiant as the day the gardes brought you in. If he’d had a more scientific mind, he might’ve thought you were worth studying.

“How long?” Your voice drew him out of his thoughts. He hummed and you repeated yourself, as well-trained as you were rebellious. “How long do I have left before I’m free to go?”

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, resting his hands on your hips. “You can’t expect me to know something like that off the top of my head, love.”

“Yes, I can.” He felt you slump against him, your fingertips brush against the nape of his neck. “When it comes to me, I can.”

He let his eyes fall shut. “I requested another six months be added to your sentence last week,” he admitted, pressing an open-mouthed kiss into your throat “Since you had yet to show any signs of lasting rehabilitation. The Iudex approved it yesterday.”

You were so soft, too – uncalloused despite the pressure of the world above, the brutality of what waited for you below. He’d let you steal as many keys as you wanted to, so long as you never hardened. “This is the third extension you’ve asked for.”

“The longest, too.” He’d let you take anything from him, so long as it meant you never left his little world. “I doubt he even revisited your case. People in the overworld don’t tend to pay attention to the finer details of what does on down here, so long as I keep the factories running.”

For a second, he could’ve sworn he felt you stiffen, could’ve sworn he felt your grin waver where it was pressed into the dip of your shoulder.

Then, you were pulling away, your smile as bright as the sun’s light where it caught on the rising tide and twice as beautiful. “You’re never going to let me go, are you?”

This time, he couldn’t help but smile back.

“Not if I can help it.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin x you #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin #genshin impact imagines #wriothesley x reader #yandere wriothesley #yanderecore #yancore

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dystopicjumpsuit · 7 months ago

Note

Hi DJ! If you’re still doing the ficlet requests, can I get 24 (cuddles of reassurance) with Wolffe? Maybe fem!reader is having a hard time with sex and feels embarrassed/overwhelmed? (If that’s too explicit/uncomy feel free to ignore :))

Just a Little Bit More

A/N: Thank you so much for this request, Alli! I’ve actually been wanting to write a fic like this for a while. I feel like so much of the smut we see in fanfiction AND in published fiction/media in general is so idealized that even when it has elements of realism, it can present a distorted idea of what sex and intimacy can really be like. I’m certainly guilty of writing somewhat idealized smut, though I do try to maintain at least some semblance of realism (unless Sev is involved; all bets are off with that man). While there’s nothing wrong with having that fantasy, I think it’s healthy and important to also show the reality that it isn’t always easy or flawless, even with a caring, experienced partner who takes our pleasure seriously and does everything “right.”

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x Reader (Fem; has hair)

Rating: M (mature content intended for readers 18+; minors DNI)

Wordcount: 3.3K of straight smut with some cuddles

Warnings and tags: cuddles; hurt comfort; language; SMUT; oral sex; PIV; nipple play; light/playful spanking; body worship; sex toys; fingering; exhibitionism; voyeurism; creampie; difficulty with orgasm. AKA, the return of SMUTKEA.

Summary: Wolffe is the best you’ve ever had. That doesn’t mean it’s always perfect.

Suggested Listening:

This fic smells like: Fruit de La Créativité by Grès (raspberry & leather)

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Wolffe gazed up into your eyes as you rolled your hips slowly, searching for the perfect angle. You knew you could find it: you’d done it before, countless times. His strong, warm hands glided up your thighs to your hips, pulling you closer, thrusting deeper, guiding you closer and closer to your pleasure. You could feel it building inside you, the tension gathering slowly.

Too slowly.

He smoothed one hand up your side, grazing along your rib cage until he cupped your breast, circling your nipple with his thumb. He knew exactly how much pressure you liked, and the way he touched you was perfect.

God, he’s so hot. Just focus on how hot he is.

Sweat glistened on your skin. The room hadn’t been this hot when he’d pulled you into bed, but after an hour and a half of vigorous activity, you were both slick with perspiration, saliva, arousal, and lube. He’d mapped your body with kisses, gliding his lips and tongue across your skin as he devoured you, bringing you right to the edge until you begged him to fuck you.

You’d wrapped your legs around his waist as he eased into you, a tormented groan rumbling from his lips as he felt your heat envelope him. Gods, he felt amazing, and when he started to move, you knew it would only be a matter of minutes before you came.

It took longer than you expected, and after a while, you realized something needed to change.

“Take me from behind,” you’d murmured, knowing how much he loved the way your ass pressed into his hips in that position.

“God, yes,” he’d replied, pulling out and rolling you over with enthusiasm.

You loved the way he handled you in bed. He was so fucking strong. He could toss you around so easily—it was hot as hell, but the best thing about it was the care he took to make sure you were comfortable and he didn’t accidentally hurt you. He lifted your hips up and positioned you exactly the way he wanted you. You heard a small click as he closed the bottle of lube, and then you felt his slickened fingers glide over your cunt as he ensured you were ready to take him from the new angle.

“Maker, that ass is gorgeous,” he said, squeezing your cheeks before giving you a playful smack.

Your mischievous giggle turned into a breathless moan as he sank into you, reaching deeper, stretching you wider, as his hand slid down your body to tease your clit. You loved the way he touched you, the way he caged you in with his body, making you feel incredibly safe and protected. And of course, you loved his cock. He knew exactly how to use it to ensure he gave you as much pleasure as he took—or more.

And still, your orgasm remained tantalizingly just out of reach. He shifted, and for a moment, his body rested heavily on you before he resumed his rhythm.

He’s getting tired. Fuck. Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up. I need to give him a break.

“Want me to be on top?” you offered, hoping that yet another angle would be the one that finally pushed you past whatever mental block was keeping you from your release.

He paused, his hands resting on your hips. “Is that what you want?”

“Sure,” you replied. “If you do?”

He trailed his fingers down your spine before slowly withdrawing from your body. You turned to watch as he rolled onto his back and kicked the blankets off the bed. He reached for you with that sexy smirk that you loved so much, and you knew without question that he still wanted you.

He’s such a good man. Gods, he deserves the world.

“Hop on, darlin’,” he invited.

You crawled toward him with a smile, pausing a moment to kneel between his thighs. You traced your fingertips up his legs and over his balls, then ghosted a line up the underside of his cock. You glanced up to see his eyes fixed on you with an intense expression. Holding his gaze, you dropped lower and flicked your tongue over his tip, then slid his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue over him. You could taste yourself on his skin—salty, tangy, unspeakably erotic. His hips flexed beneath you, and you heard his breath grow ragged.

He caressed your head gently, stroking his hand over your hair and jaw before coming to rest on your shoulders.

“Not gonna last if you keep that up,” he said quietly. “Come up here.”

You gave him one last defiant, flirtatious little suck before you released him, then you began to crawl up to him, kissing a trail up his abdomen and chest. You straddled his hips, kissing and licking your way up his throat, and as you reached his lips, you whispered, “You taste like pussy.”

“Then I must be delicious,” he murmured, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck and pulling you into a passionate kiss.

His tongue slid into your mouth as his cock thrust into your cunt, and for a moment you were overwhelmed with the sensations of him filling you. A fresh wave of arousal had flooded you as you’d pleasured him with your mouth, and he slipped into you easily, rocking into you with his powerful thighs. You braced your fists against the mattress on either side of his head, pressing down to meet his thrusts as you rode him hard and fast, chasing your pleasure with a desperation that started to border on frantic as release continued to elude you.

“Gonna make you come so hard,” he whispered. “And then I’m gonna fill you up. You feel so goddamn good. Can’t wait to feel you come around my cock.”

I’m trying, damn it!

“You feel incredible,” you replied breathlessly, and it was true, so why was this so kriffing difficult?

Your hips were starting to get sore from how long you’d been at it, so you shifted positions, bringing your knees higher and setting a slower pace to try to buy yourself enough time that you’d have the energy to make it to the finish line. Wolffe adjusted instantly, not even needing a verbal cue to understand the message your body sent. You found the angle that pressed his cock against the perfect place inside you, and you focused on trying to get as much stimulation there as you possibly could, cutting out all extraneous movement.

The longer it took, the more anxious and desperate you became. You tried to shut down the voice in your head that whispered, “He’s getting bored,” because you knew it was a lie. All you had to do was look into his beautiful, mismatched eyes to see how much he wanted you. And you were so close. So fucking close, if you could just get out of your own head long enough to let go.

You traced your fingertips across his cheekbone and along his jaw, grazing your thumb across his lips. You pressed gently, parting his lips to brush your thumb against his tongue, and then you leaned down and kissed him deeply, trying to lose yourself in the sensation of his lips and tongue against your own.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as you broke from the kiss and returned your hand to brace against the mattress. “So fuckin’ beautiful.”

Please stop talking. You couldn’t say it out loud; what kind of an asshole says something like that in response to a compliment?

“You’re so sexy,” you whispered instead. “You’re amazing at this.”

It was true; he was amazing. Unquestionably the best you’d ever had. In the time you’d been together, he’d learned your body completely, identifying every spot that made you shiver, testing different approaches until he knew exactly how and where you liked to be touched, kissed, caressed. He knew where to use his teeth, and where to use his breath; he knew when you wanted him to be tender, and when you craved roughness.

He knew you.

He knew you better than anyone ever had, and that made your current predicament even more maddening. Because sometimes it was easy. Sometimes you came so fast that your orgasm surprised both of you. But most of the time, it took more work. A lot more. And sometimes, like this one, you would get so close to the edge that you were only seconds away, only to feel the wave of pleasure ebb and be replaced with frustration and exhaustion.

Please, please, please. Just a little bit more.

Your wrists ached. Your knuckles were raw from grinding them into the sheets. You shifted your weight and lifted one hand off the mattress, stretching your fingers and trying to get the blood flowing to them. He glanced at your hand, then back up into your eyes.

“What can I do?” he asked softly.

“Just… keep going,” you said desperately. “I’m so close—I’m so fucking close, and I just can’t—I can’t—”

Abrupt tears stung your eyes, and you buried your face against his neck to hide them, kissing his chest to try to distract him from your distress.

He wrapped his arms around your body, still rocking into you at the pace you’d set. “Do you want to take a break?”

“No, I want you to come,” you snapped, disappointment sharpening your tone more than you intended.

He stilled immediately. You felt his hand slide up your back to stroke your hair softly.

“Hey,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head. “Look at me.”

You shook your head and burrowed your face obstinately into the nook where his neck met his shoulder.

“Talk to me, little one,” he urged. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

The dam cracked and then burst.

“I’m so fucking tired,” you sobbed. “And I can tell you’re getting tired, and I just want it to be good for you, and every time I think I’m getting there, I lose it!”

Mortification swept through you that you were making a scene during such an intimate moment, and you tried to stifle your sobs, but it was too late. You felt him go soft inside you, and then he slipped from your body.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean to ruin it for you.”

His arms tightened around you, and he rolled the both of you onto your sides, pulling you close against his body. “You didn’t ruin anything.”

Holding you tightly with one arm, he began to run his hand lightly over your back, comforting you with his touch as he kissed your forehead.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he repeated. “You just got tired. It’s all right, love. It happens.”

“It’s so frustrating,” you confessed. “So many times, I thought I was there, and then something would distract me, and it was just gone.”

“Was it something I did?” he asked.

“No, of course not. It was just… I don’t know. A noise? Or a weird thought that popped into my head at a bad time?” You paused, feeling a little guilty as you remembered that, in fact, you had gotten annoyed at an ill-timed remark from him. “And then the longer it took, the more it stressed me out about how long it was taking, until I was stressing so much about it that that’s all I could think about.”

He moved his hand to your shoulder and began to glide it up and down your arm in long, languid strokes. “Why were you worried about taking too long?”

You paused, unaccountably hesitant to admit the truth. He waited patiently, still caressing your arm, until at last you replied, “I was worried you were getting tired. Or bored. Or—I don’t know…”

His hand stilled in its progress, then slid around your back as he pulled you even closer to him. “I would never get bored with you.”

“But—”

“I love you,” he cut you off firmly. “I love being with you. I love fuckin’ you. You’re gorgeous, and sexy, and kriffin’ amazing in the sack. Do you have any idea how lucky I am? Most men only dream of finding a girl like you, but I got you for real. How the hell would I ever be stupid enough to get bored with someone as goddamn perfect as you?”

You didn’t know what to say. You lay in his arms, clinging tightly to him as the tears finally stopped trickling from your eyes. You shuddered quietly.

“Yeah?” you asked in a tiny whisper.

He rolled you onto your back and moved to lie on top of you so he could look into your eyes.

“Yeah,” he replied.

You swallowed. “I love you, too, you know.”

“I know,” he said with a charming smirk.

He pressed his lips to your sternum as his hand slid lazily up your body to play with your breast. The weight of his body pressed you down into the soft mattress as you cradled his chest between your thighs. You took a deep breath, then let it out slowly, releasing the guilt and stress and self-recrimination you’d built up in your body.

He kissed you again, and again, then he began to work his way across your chest until he drew your nipple into his mouth, brushing his tongue over your skin as he sucked gently, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. You felt a spark of renewed arousal, but with it came a surge of anxiety that rose insistently in your mind.

“Wolffe,” you whispered. “I don’t know if I can. I really am exhausted.”

He looked up at you as he continued to tease your breast. At last, he released your nipple from his lips, giving you a devilish smile.

“What if we tried something else?”

You couldn’t help the way your lips curved into an answering smile when he looked at you like that. “What did you have in mind?”

He pushed himself up off of you and leaned over to rummage through your nightstand until he retrieved a vibrator—the one you’d once jokingly called “Old Faithful” for its uncanny ability to get you off like clockwork.

“I want you to fuck yourself with this,” he said, his voice dropping to a gravelly pitch. “I want to watch you make yourself come.”

Your breath stuttered to a halt, your eyes widening and your heart beginning to pound at the idea. Your gaze flicked from the toy to his eyes and back again.

“Wh—what about you?” you stammered.

“Don’t you worry about me,” he replied. He switched on the vibrator and traced it down your abdomen, making you twitch as its buzz tickled your skin. “Will you?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, taking the toy from him. “How do you want me?”

“Whatever way works best for you.”

You thought about trying to pose for him, to put on a show, but you knew instinctively that wasn’t what he was after. If he’d wanted to watch a counterfeit, staged orgasm, he would have just found a holoporn. No. He wanted the real thing. He wanted to see your genuine pleasure.

“All right,” you whispered.

You took the toy from him, and he moved off of your body to lie next to you, observing you closely. You adjusted the settings to your preferred speed and pattern, then took a deep breath and began.

The instant you touched the vibrator to your clit, your entire body tensed, and you gasped quietly. You glanced at Wolffe and found his gaze riveted to your pussy, his one good pupil dilated so wide you could barely see the amber ring of his iris around its inky depths. You felt a little self-conscious until you saw the way his lips parted slightly as his breath became heavy.

You pushed yourself back into the pillow and closed your eyes as you adjusted the angle of the toy, pressing it exactly as you needed it. With your free hand, you began to play with your breast, caressing and squeezing and rolling your nipple between your fingertips. You felt the warmth of his hand as it settled onto your leg and then slid up your thigh. Your opposite leg curled up to brace your foot against the bed, opening your stance wider as you moved the vibrator exactly the way you needed it.

“Fuck,” he rasped hoarsely, and you could feel the heat of his breath on your skin. His fingers grazed lightly over your pussy, but quickly withdrew.

“You can touch me,” you gasped.

He didn’t move immediately, and you continued to work yourself closer and closer to your orgasm, feeling the tension gather in your body and begin to tighten in on your center. Then his fingertips brushed over your cunt again, and you felt his lips and tongue descend on your hip. He didn’t try to take control, just touched you softly, kissing and licking and watching as you played with yourself.

You adjusted your position again, bringing your leg against his body, and you felt his slick, rigid cock press hard against you. You whimpered, so turned on you couldn’t even form words, and in response, he ground his erection against you. He kissed across your pelvis until he reached your belly, pressing his face into you.

“I’m so close,” you panted.

“Kriff, me too,” he growled.

His fingertip grazed into you, and your body jerked as you gasped sharply. He froze, and without thinking, you moved your hand away from your breast to grab his wrist and push him deeper. With an urgent grunt, he began to move his finger, stroking exactly where he knew you needed him.

Abruptly, your hips arched off the bed, and you let out an inhuman wail. If your brain had been functioning, you might have also heard Wolffe’s rough groan, but at the moment, you were aware of nothing but blinding, shattering pleasure as your body finally found the release it had been denied for so many hours. You jerked the vibrator away as the intensity suddenly became too much, and your body convulsed again and again until at last you collapsed onto the bed, utterly spent.

Wolffe covered you with frantic kisses, crawling up your body until he reached your face. His body hovered over you as his tongue brushed between your lips and flooded your mouth with his taste. Your arms wrapped around his torso as your legs tightened around his hips, and you pulled him into you. His cock slid easily, and he thrust hard and fast, fucking you through the last tremors of your orgasm.

He came within seconds, flooding you with heat as he thrust hard, one last time, burying his cock as deep as he could inside your body. He stayed there, his entire body taut, until at last he exhaled a hard breath and relaxed onto you. His lips broke away from yours, and he rested his forehead against the pillow next to your head.

“Fuck,” he panted, the word hot against your ear. “Fuck, you’re amazing.”

You stroked your hands up and down his back, digging your nails lightly into his skin. He groaned and slumped heavily against your body. You loved the weight of him on top of you, but before long, you began to wheeze quietly as you struggled to draw breath. He heard the shift and immediately rolled off of you, pulling you against himself as he came to rest on the bed.

“Thank you,” you whispered as you pressed your lips to his chest.

He laughed quietly. “Thank you. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“Worth the wait?” you asked.

“Worth everything,” he murmured, drawing you even closer. “Everything, and more. You always have been.”

---

Want to request a ficlet? Check out this list of prompts!Want more Wolffe? Here’s a tiny little fluffy ficlet.

Taglist:

@secondaryrealm @sev-on-kamino @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @merkitty49

@anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @arcsimper5 @starrylothcat @clio3kantarella

@cloneloverrrrr @goblininawig @ladytano420 @arctrooper69 @sunshinesdaydream

@littlemissmanga @stunkbiggu @starqueensthings @marierg @idontgetanysleep

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@multi-fan-dom-madness @heavenseed76 @wizardofrozz @bobaprint @sweetcream-coldfoam

@skellymom @pickleprickle @trixie2023 @mythical-illustrator @dickarchivist

@cw80831 @kimiheartblade @flyiingsly @lightwise @swcowgal

@reader6898 @cdblake1565 @epicy0n @starstofillmydream @msmeredithrose

@totallyunidentified @eclec-tech @euphoriacafe @hipwell @yve-barr

@dangraccoon @transactivecybermemory @etod

#commander wolffe #commander wolffe x reader #wolffe x reader #star wars #the clone wars #fem reader #x reader #dystopicjumpsuit writes #flashing gif

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vanillawurld · 6 months ago

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༊*·˚Sensación del Bloque

✧.* Pair - Joost Klein x Fem! Reader

✧.* Tags & Warnings - fluff and cussing ig

✧.* Summary - Joost finds out about his friend's new neighbor and doesn't act upon introductions until he sees her in all of her beauty.

✧.* Extra- a couple things... reader is implied to be latina, implied to have a more tanner/browner/darker complex, and reader is going to have acrylic nails and gold jewelry cuz those are my favorite things in the world rn… also i dont speak dutch so the highlighted parts are the ppl speaking dutch. ALSOO reader has a place holder smell (vanilla) but yall can change it if you want ALSOOO reader doesn’t speak dutch okay im done now

✧.* Word Count - 1,319

Joost always enjoyed meeting new people. It always allows him to share his work with others. He can be shy about his work but it's inevitable for people to know about him and his art. People never know when they are going to meet someone new unless it's planned.

Just like any other day for an artist, Joost was working with his friend, Antu, on the production of some beats for a new song in his friend’s apartment. “Man, I'm kind of hungry I'm not going to lie,” Antu randomly said, taking his eyes off his computer to look at Joost. They’ve been working on beats since the morning and being too focused on work, they forgot about the basic essentials a human body needs. Food.

“Well, what do you want to get? I don’t feel like driving so pick a place near here,” Joost replied.

Joost felt like it was an eternity letting Antu pick a fast food place. When he finally decided where to get food, they placed an order through the phone for pick up and waited. It was a quiet couple of minutes of waiting until Antu broke the silence, “I got a new neighbor”

“Seriously?”

“Yup. I’ve been trying to talk to her but she kind of ignores me. Like she’s playing hard to get,” Antu shared.

Joist gave him a confused look, “I thought you were talking to Sofie. Did you guys stop talking or something?”

Antu looked at Joost, “No… Im still talking to Sofie but that doesn’t mean im taken,” he said, making Joost roll his eyes.

“Do you know where she moved from?” Joost asked

Antu shrugged, “I heard some of the other neighbors say she’s not from Europe though. Probably somewhere in the Americas.”

A couple of minutes rolled by and Joost decided to start making his way to the place to pick up the food they ordered. He walked out of the apartment and checked his phone to see if the order was complete. While he was checking, he heard the next door open and was met by the most gorgeous looking woman he has ever seen. that must’ve been the new neighbor Antu was talking about.

She was gorgeous. everything about her screamed “goddess”. Her hair, her makeup, her jewelry, her nails everything. Joost didn’t wanna stare, but it was hard not to. The way her hair hugged the frame of her face. The way her flawless makeup sat. The way her gold jewelry reflected on her skin. The way her acrylic nails made her hands look pretty. He was able to smell her sweet vanilla scent from where he was at. something about her, made him intrigued to know her, even though this was the first time he was seeing her.

The woman was trying to look for something in her purse and seemed like she was struggling. She ended up giving up and started walking towards the elevator past him, but what she didn’t notice was that she dropped a euro. Joost saw this and thought that God was giving him a huge opportunity to talk to her. He picked up the euro and prepared himself.

“Excuse me ma’am” she ignored him “Ma’am, excuse me” she ignored him again. He got closer to her and thats when she turned around to face him. She felt his presence. Joost was even more nervous than he was. He was up close to her and felt his body go weak. “You dropped this, ma’am” he said to her.

She gave him a confused look at first and looked at his hand that had the euro note. “Is this… mine?” she said in a confused tone. From that short moment, Joost figured out why Antu couldn’t talk to her. She didn't speak Dutch. Joost didn’t know how Antu didn’t know since he said himself that she wasn’t from Europe.

“Oh, sorry! Yes this is yours. You dropped it.” Joost said in English.

He handed her the euro and gave her a nervous chuckle. She smiled back and gently took it from him. “Thank you so much,” she said to him. Her voice was heaven to Joost’s ears.

“No, problem,” he said. She started walking away, but Joost didn’t want her to. He didn’t want to stop talking to her. He wanted more from her. “Um, ma’am” he grabbed her attention again, “did you just move here?”

“I did. 2 months ago.” she replied, “im still trying to figure out where places are and stuff. Im trying to find a good clothing store near by.”

More opportunities were coming to the Dutch artist and he didn’t want them to go to waste. “Oh, I know a bunch of stores around here. I was actually about to head out to pick up some food from a place that’s around a lot of good clothing stores. If you want we can walk together around that place,” he exclaimed.

The woman gave him a smile and a smooth giggle, “You’re sweet, but im going to pass. I want to learn on my own.”

Joost was slightly disappointed but he couldn’t complain. “W-Well if you ever need any help, im always at my friends place working, stop by anytime,” he suggested.

She nodded and continued walking, but Joost called her out again. “Uh, ma’am?” she turned around to look at him, “Can I get your name? My name is Joost” he held out his hand for her to shake.

She looked down at his hand and back at him. “Everyone here is so nice,” she commented, “My name is (Y/N),” she said while taking out her hand to shake his. Joost was analyzing every detail about her. The way she talked, the way she dressed, her smooth hand, everything. As she walked away, she turned around one last time to tell him, “I like your outfit by the way.”

He watched the way her hips swayed as she walked and was enamored. Joost smiled almost like a dork. He felt extremely giddy inside like he could jump up high like they would in those corny musicals about high school. His moment was cut short though, when Antu opened the door. “Dude, where’s the food?” he said.

“Shit, sorry. I’ll go get it right now,” Joost said while taking out his wallet.

Antu looked to his side and saw his new neighbor walking towards the elevator. He immediately connected the dots. “Bro, don’t tell me you managed to talk to her,” he questioned, but by the way Joost was smiling, he already got his answer. “Please tell me your secret, i’m being dead ass,” Antu said.

From the moment that left Antu’s mouth, Joost wanted to gate keep. He didn’t want to tell him that (Y/N) doesn’t speak Dutch she he bullshitted, “You just got to have personality to pull someone like her.”

Anti rolled his eye, “Alright calm down, buddy. I will say you are lucky though. i’ve seen men basically line up outside to see her go out because she’s always going out. Didn’t think she’d talk to a boy white as you.”

“Okay, fuck you.” Joost replied. He was shocked by what Antu said though. Having men line up for a woman who is new to the country is crazy.

“Dude, she’s basically the street sensation. You are extremely lucky to even talk to her. I’ve seen her ignore so many people. Don’t know how you did it,” Antu commented before closing the door to his apartment.

Whatever spell (Y/N) put on Joost, it was working hard. he wanted to know more about her. Where she was from, who she was, but he needed to wait. He would wait until his death to know about her. He couldn’t wait to see more of her. This was the first woman to ever make him desperate for more and it wasn’t driven by lust.

˖◛. *. ⋆ Vanilla Speaks

this was a little something... where my Latina Joost Klein bitches at

#joost klein #joost x reader #joost klein x reader #joost oneshot

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solaiced · 26 days ago

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CASE 14: NANAMI KENTO LIKES TO PAINT!?

!content!: cumplay, married life, nanami does NOT know how to bake, more sentimental than i anticipated, and lots of fluff.

wc: 1,4k

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Whenever Nanami had a bad day, you strove to make him happy.

Come home late from overtime?

Dinner's on the table, his favorite, and a hot bath awaits him.

His coworkers were annoying?

Massage and kisses.

Now, you weren't a housewife by all means, your job was simply more lenient on hours.

So, of course, it was a surprise when you came home late for the first time in your marriage.

You throw your shoes off, landing in the abyss that you called a closet, eyes droopy from fatigue. You're so tired, that you forgot about your husband, who must’ve come home from work before you.

You drop your heavy bag and huff.

“Are you tired, my love?” You hear Kento’s voice from an unknown place in the house.

“Sorry for being late, Ken.” You call out, walking to where you think you heard him, the kitchen.

There he was, the most perfect, flawless man that you managed to wife up. Your husband. Dressed in your white apron, now stained with mysterious brown marks. He turns to you, spreading his arms invitingly.

“Welcome home.” He graces you with his perfect smile, dimples on each corner of his lips. Gift from God, he truly is.

You crash into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck while his wrap around your waist, bringing you flat against him.

“Thank you, darling.” You smile, kissing his lips. Kento tilts his head, thinking the peck would be longer, but ends up stumbling, mouth open.

“My kiss?” He asks, like a puppy who did a trick and didn’t get a treat for it.

“I gave you a kiss?” You joke, hands framing his cheeks. “Kidding, come here.”

You pucker your lips and he crashes his on them, pulling you closer, no space between you both.

He pulls away momentarily before kissing you again, hand behind your head to make you sure don’t pull away.

At some point, you try to, gasping for air. Kento backs off, looking at you with the most devastatingly loving eyes, you’d die.

“How’s that for a kiss?” You ask, hands on his chest.

“Perfect.” He remembers something, turning around, “I need to show you something. Since you’re the one who came home late this time, I made you something instead.”

He turns back to you, mittens on and a cake pan in hand. It was… dark. Kento sure was a cook, but when it came to pastries or baking… he wasn’t the best.

You gasp, surprised by his action.

“Kento… you did have to…” No, seriously, he shouldn’t bake. He sucks. He puts the pan down, taking off his mittens and putting a fork in it, picking up a big piece of the cake(?) and bringing it to your mouth. You reluctantly obey, taking the fork in.

You try to not wince, it’s obvious he mixed something wrong. There’s a clump of flour at the back of your throat.

After chewing, you cough, hiding your face.

“Are you okay?” Kento immediately puts the fork down and places his hand on your upper back worriedly.

“I-I’m fine.” You stutter, wiping your mouth. You straighten, and turn to him, smiling.

“Was it that bad? I’m sorry.” He cups your face and kisses you, peppering kisses on your face.

“I’m fine, Kento.” You kiss him back, humming contentedly. He taps your thigh, signaling you to jump, once you do, he wraps your thighs around his waist and supports your weight with his hands.

“Where are we going, my love?” You giggle, arms around his neck.

The blond man kisses your arm and starts walking, “Our bedroom. I’ll make up for almost poisoning you.” How did you get so lucky?

“Hm? And how do you plan on doing that?” You instigate, curious.

“Painting you.”

——————

Apparently, ‘painting you’ wasn’t what you thought. Apparently, ‘painting you’ didn’t mean that Kento would immortalize your beauty on a canvas. No, you were the canvas. And the paint was his cum.

Your husband suppresses a whine as he pulls out and cums for the nth time. His head feels so light. You weren’t faring any better, hips twitching and legs shaking. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were having a seizure.

“My love…” Kento whispers, the smallest tears slipping out the slits his eyes became. You turn your head slowly, trying to gain more lucidity.

“Yes, Ken?” You respond breathlessly, chest heaving.

He slips a hand down your stomach, feeling your mixed fluids starting to dry. He uses the tip of his finger to write something, and you jerk, shivering from his light touches here and there.

“K-Ken!” You whine when his finger becomes a hand, trailing down to your clit and slapping it.

“It’s unfair… Must you be so pretty?” Kento frowns, other hand planted beside your head to balance his body over you.

“W-what-“ You jerk when he repeatedly slaps your clit punishingly.

He stops suddenly and moves his hand to your breasts, writing his name across your chest, as if he was claiming you.

“You’re mine, okay?” Kento squeezes your tit, planting a kiss on your nipple. You nod, hand searching for his cock.

“Inside, again,” you beg. “I want you inside, please Kento, you’re gonna kill me.” A sob rips out of you, you didn’t even realize you were crying, poor thing.

Your husband takes his hands off of you, wrapping it around his length instead and putting the near to your fluttering entrance. He slipped in with ease, from how wet you were.

The noises you and Kento let out were harmonious, completing each other. Once he was completely sheathed inside, he groans, head tipped back so you could see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallows.

“Are you okay?” Sweetest man, always asking how you were, even though he was doing much worse, sweat dripping down his powerful biceps, forehead and chest. But god, he was so attractive to you in this exact moment.

You place a shaky hand on his shoulder, digging your nails in unconsciouslyy. “I’m fine, move, Ken.”

Kento’s hand lifts your thigh, the ring on his hand cold against your hot skin.

“Be good and wrap your legs around me, my love.” You obey, shivering from the pleasure, the way your husband filled you up so deliciously.

“Good girl,” he huffs, pulling out until only the tip remained and plunging the rest inside after a second. Your jaw drops, releasing a mess of incoherent moans.

Kento mutters your name in a broken whisper, hiding his red face in your neck. His hand gropes your breast, covered in his semen like he was trying to mark you up.

“Harder, Kento.” You beg, swallowing the thick wad of saliva that had built up inside of your mouth. He obliges, tip smashing against your g-spot.

Kento was a very vocal man, not bothering to muffle his moans as his cock twitched inside of you. He rubbed your walls with the ridges and veins of his length, producing friction you couldn’t find in any toy.

Meanwhile, your husband kept whispering your name and little praises, rubbing your clit with his thumb and coating your skin in his saliva and cum with his other hand and his tongue.

“Pretty girl…” Kento whispers, kissing up your jawline to your lips. “Do you mind if I paint you from the inside, this time?”

However, you were too engrossed in his frantic thrusts and light touches, bringing him closer by the shoulders.

“You-fuuhh- You better.” He chuckles at your late response and rolls his hips into your mellow cunt, wrapped comfortably around his aching cock.

“Okay, okay, cum with me, sweetheart, please,” Kento begs, unable to contain his sounds, even if he wanted to.

The slick you were releasing made it all too slippery, so, when you both came, Kento’s thick cock slips out and paints your stomach and breasts, instead of your pussy.

You recover slowly, panting and blinking away the stars in your eyes. Your husband scowls on top of you, wiping, or rather, smearing, his fresh cum all over your body.

“What’s wrong, Ken?” You ask, wondering if you were unsatisfactory.

“Nothing, just… We’ll have to do it again. I slipped out.” He grumbles, pecking your lips and actually wiping away your drool and tears.

“Kentooooo…” You whine, but he knew you wanted to.

#jjk #kinktober 2024 #jjk smut #jujustu kaisen x reader #solace's works #jjk x reader #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami smut #kento nanami #nanami kento smut #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento x you #jujustu kaisen

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scottiexmariee · 1 month ago

Text

Pants

Pairing: Rafayel x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Suggestive content

Masterlist

Prompt: “Explain why a character is not wearing pants in a situation where they definitely should be,”

“Nope. Nuh-uh. You are not depantsing me in the middle of the hallway,”

Note: I discovered this prompt while searching for inspiration and immediately thought of a Rafayel scenario. I laughed so hard writing this. I hope you guys enjoy!

The last few days had been…interesting, to put it mildly.

Rafayel was, yet again, MIA in a likely attempt to dodge the launch party for his new exhibit. This wasn't a new thing. You were more likely to see a ghost than to see Rafayel at his own gatherings. It would take more than begging and pleading to get him to make even a brief appearance, and if he did show he would definitely just be complaining the whole time.

Thomas, who was beyond done with Rafayel’s antics, had cornered you after work recently and all but got on his knees and begged you to intervene.

“You’re the only one he’ll listen to,” He pleaded, his voice thick with exasperation and distress. “He has to at least make an appearance at this one. The President of a huge art museum overseas is flying over for this. This one is important, (y/n). Please talk to him!”

Truthfully, you’d rather pull your own teeth out, one at a time, than try to convince Rafayel to do something he didn’t want to do. He was way too dramatic, and he had a nasty habit of being a bratty little fish boy when he was cornered. However, seeing Thomas so desperate stirred enough guilt in your stomach to have you reluctantly agreeing to try, despite the gut feeling that it wouldn’t go well.

And it didn’t.

You’d gone to his studio, only to find the door locked. When you retrieved your key ring, you were surprised—and infuriated—to find out that your personal studio key was missing.

That little urchin stole your key back so you wouldn’t come find him.

With a very long sigh, you trudged around to the first window you could find. If he thought simply locking the door would deter you, he severely underestimated you.

Of course, the window was unlocked. He obviously hadn’t thought that far ahead. You climbed in, trying to swallow the burning irritation in your throat as you scanned the studio. At first glance, it appeared to be vacant.

Your footsteps echoed off the high ceilings as you entered the room further. There was the usual disarray—paintbrushes scattered around, splashes of paint here and there, canvases strewn about—but no sign of Rafayel.

A pink sheet of paper taped to his bedroom door caught your eye as you continued to sweep the area for him. You approached, only to find the most infuriating note you’d ever seen taped there.

In Rafayel’s handwriting, three simple words were written boldly on the page, followed by several exclamation points: “NO (Y/N)S ALLOWED!!!!!!”

“You have got to be kidding me,” You grumbled, ignoring the childish note and pushing the door open. “RAFAYEL!! Stop hiding!!”

Silence.

You shut your eyes and took a steadying breath, trying to cool your rapidly accelerating frustration.

If this man was flawless in anything, it would definitely be ‘getting on (y/n)’s nerves.’

“You’re going to give Thomas stress wrinkles!” You called, taking another slow step into the bedroom. You strained, trying to listen harder for any faint trace of sound, but there was still nothing.

This was getting old. Fast.

Just as you were about to leave to search a different area of the studio, the closet door caught your eye. It was typically left open, but it just so happened to be shut.

Got you, you little shit.

You crept up to the door, careful not to accidentally step on or kick anything in your path, simultaneously listening for any stirring or shuffling from the closet. The moment your fingers wrapped around the handle, you yanked the door open, eyes immediately landing on a startled Rafayel.

“Seriously!?”

He blinked up at you from his spot on the closet floor, his shock quickly morphing into brattiness.

“There was a sign,” He said, his tone dripping with sass and irritation as he gestured toward the note he’d left on the bedroom door.

“What are you, four?” You retorted, wrapping a hand around his arm and attempting to pull him up. “Handwritten notes aren’t laws,”

He allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, but let out an indignant huff. “They can be,” He argued, pulling his arm away from you and crossing them in front of his chest. “I could call the police, you know. First, you’re trespassing, and now you’re harassing me,”

You pinched the bridge of your nose in irritation.

“Rafayel,” You ground out, forcing yourself to stay calm, “What will it take to get you to go to the launch party?”

He studied you for a split second before turning his head away. “Nothing, because I’m not going. Nuh-uh. Nope.”

Your palm met your forehead with an audible slap.

You were about to strangle him.

“If you think I won’t drag you there unconscious, you’re wrong,” You warned, placing your hands on your hips. “You’re stressing Thomas out, and now you’re stressing me out. This one is really important, Rafayel. I will owe you one favor, no denials, if you go.”

He turned his head just enough to cast a lethal side-eye in your general direction. This idiot was pouting.

You mimicked his posture, folding your arms over your chest and raising an eyebrow at him. “Well?”

He turned to fully face you. “Two favors,” He said, extending a hand for you to shake on the deal.

You bit back a sigh and grabbed his hand, sealing the deal. While it did put you in debt, you had succeeded in getting him to go. Thomas, for once, would get to rest easy tonight.

Rafayel, with a satisfied smirk, released your hand.

“Favor number one, Miss Bodyguard, you’re coming with me,”

As it turned out, the two of you would have been better off if neither of you had attended.

It started off smoothly. Thomas had been tremendously grateful, nearly collapsing with relief when you showed up with Rafayel in tow. Rafayel mingled for roughly a half hour, and then essentially glued himself to your side when he decided he was done socializing. He’d nod his head in acknowledgment when someone spoke to him, but complain under his breath the second they were out of earshot.

“Can we leave now? I’m tired.”

“(Y/N), run away with me. This is awful,”

“If I wanted to interact with people this much I would have been a cashier,”

You eventually managed to find a table with some wine on it, and you happily indulged. Rafayel followed suit, retrieving a glass from the table and catching your arm with his free hand.

“Good idea. Let’s go take a breather,”

He lead you away from the crowds and the stragglers, all the way to a secluded (and nearly hidden) spot in the back of the building.

That was when things started to go a little less smoothly.

Instead of stopping to “take a breather,” Rafayel continued walking….right for the emergency exit.

“Absolutely not,” You grumbled, digging your heels in and refusing to move any further. Rafayel looked back at you, confusion on his features.

“I made my appearance,” He began, gesturing toward the door. “I never said my breather was temporary, or inside this building,”

He turned again, hand still firmly clasped around your arm.

Without thinking, you yanked your arm back in protest, effectively pulling an unsuspecting Rafayel back toward you.

To your absolute horror, you heard the unmistakable sloshing of liquid in a glass—the wine in his other hand—and you realized, way too late, that you’d made a mistake.

Rafayel froze, immediately glancing down at what used to be a completely white outfit. He turned, slowly, and stared at you in disbelief.

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head.

You had no idea how expensive that outfit was, but Rafayel wasn’t one to buy cheap clothing. You began to sputter, staring at the ridiculously huge red stain on his pants.

“I—oh my god. I am so sorry. I can fix this,”

Rafayel’s brain finally started working again, and his mouth started running.

“Fix this?! Who are you, Mr. Clean?!”

“Oh, I’m definitely leaving now,”

“I knew I should have skipped town,”

You began to panic.

You dropped to your knees in front of him, desperately rubbing your sleeve over the stain. It did absolutely nothing.

“Just…hold on,” You pleaded.

“For future reference, you pat dry, not rub, you menace,” Rafayel sneered. “And that isn’t working. Let’s just get out of here—“

“Wait! A sink!” You called, eyes landing on sign for the bathrooms down the hall. “Rafayel, take these off,”

His eyes nearly popped out of his head.

“What?!”

Your fingers found the button of his pants, unfastening it before he could protest.

“Most people would consider taking me out to dinner first,” He complained, staring at you incredulously.

“Shut up,” You snapped, tugging down his waistband. Thank god he wasn’t commando. When Rafayel realized you were serious, he caught one of your wrists, his eyes wide with panic.

“Nope. Nuh-uh. You are not depantsing me in the middle of the hallway,” His other hand fumbled with his waistband, battling to pull his pants back up against your resistance.

“Stop it! I said I can fix this! I can get this stain out if I do it now!” You cried out, swatting his hand away and fighting for control of his pants.

“The one time you actually want me out of my pants, and it’s because of a stain?” He placed his hand on your head, desperately trying to push you away from his legs.

You ignored his comment and the warmth of a blush creeping into your cheeks, the hand on your head doing nothing to deter you from your mission. Just as you thought you were making progress, a voice rang out from around the corner.

“Rafayel? (Y/N)? Are you guys back here? It’s almost time for—“

Thomas rounded the corner, immediately stopping dead in his tracks at the sight in front of him. His mouth hung open, caught on the sentence he didn’t get to finish. His eyes flitted between you and Rafayel, and it was only then that you realized how horrible this actually looked.

Rafayel, completely frozen, hand on your head, his pants halfway down his thighs.

You, staring at Thomas like a deer caught in headlights, on your knees in front of Rafayel, quite literally halfway through the process of pulling his pants down.

“This is why we should have just left!” Rafayel hissed.

“This….looks way worse than it is,” You explained, rising from your knees and holding your hands up in a placating gesture.

Thomas, bless his heart, looked like he was on the verge of a mental breakdown as he experienced several different emotions.

Shock. Confusion. Disbelief. Exasperation.

“I spilled wine on him!” You squeaked, wildly gesturing at Rafayel’s pants as he pulled them up. Thomas seemed to untense slightly as his eyes landed on the huge wine stain. “I was trying to fix it, but he was trying to leave. I swear,”

“Yeah, so she manhandled me and tried to rip my pants off in the hallway,” Rafayel added bitterly. You shot him a glare.

Thomas was silent for a long moment. After what seemed like several minutes, but was likely just a few seconds, he rubbed his forehead and sighed.

“I have an extra pair of pants in the car,” He said, turning on his heel. “Stay.”

Thanks to Thomas, the situation was quickly rectified before anyone else saw something they shouldn’t have.

Rafayel reluctantly stayed a bit longer, although the two of you were unable to look each other in the eye for the remainder of your visit.

When the two of you were finally granted permission to leave by Thomas, you wasted no time.

You climbed into Rafayel’s passenger seat, eyes fixed on the dashboard ahead of you.

He started the car wordlessly, but you could feel him sending an occasional glance your way.

After several minutes of silent driving, he finally spoke.

“(Y/N),”

You turned your head to look at him. “Yeah?”

Though his expression was neutral, you could see amusement twinkling in his eyes.

“Next time you try to rip my pants off, can you make sure we aren’t in public?”

I truly hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it <3

#love and deepspace #lads rafayel #lnds rafayel #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #lnds thomas #lads thomas

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