#though one town over is COMPLETELY OUT
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lmao our power at work went out and we just abandoned ship
#the winds really picked up and knocked out the power for the whole block#luckily the power at my house is still good#we checked the ga power app and its spotty outages around the area#though one town over is COMPLETELY OUT#but dude the truckyard and the parking lot being completely black was really spooky
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Lineup of all of the characters that appear long enough to need a visual representation of them in the game lol
#I added a few people that you can randomly run into around town (like at the inn or in the forest or etc) and have very short conversations#with just to kind of flesh out the world a little more in a more natural-ish seeming way. Like nobody in the main cast would really#have much reason to talk about the actual city you're in or anything. Since most of them havent lived there that long anyway.#But if there's a ''city inspector'' that you can run into whilst he's writing up notes examining the local inn. then maybe there could be a#few dialogue options with him where you can ask about things like that. since he would know more about the area as an offical Government#Worker or etc. Optional of course. since I have to be so wary of my natural inclination to lore dump lol and am trying extra hard to make i#all stuff thats easily avoided/skipped. But for the people like ME who deliberately choose to exhaust every possible optional dialogue#option and explore every single inch of the world and try to collect as much information as possible - then there are a few extra places to#do that. Though obviously not all of them just give exposition for like 15 paragraphs blandly. Some you don't really learn anything from#and it's kind of just.. random flavor to make the non-shop map locations more ''lived in'' feeling. Like the random#little girl you can talk to in the park doesn't bizarrely start reading out the wikipedia description of some War that happened 10 years ag#or whatever. she's just complains about school a little and asks if you've tried the nearby ice cream cart treats and etc lol#ANYWAY..#some of the art is so so evil but I'm not going to spend 800 years trying to clean it up and update it. whatever the hell mess I sketched#out in 2018 or whatever is just what I'm keeping lol... it is what it is#One of the many trials of the whole 'briefly work a few months on something and then abandon it almost entirely only to pick up work#on it literally like 4 - 5 yrs later and now you must contend with trying to decipher whatever weird shit you did years ago' experience lol#Also given the population breakdowns of the world in general I think there's an unrealistic amount of jhevona in this lineup since#they're a much rarer species to just see out and about anywhere but.. it IS a global trading center type area. and the game#takes place in the north (the country of Asen. near the coast. for the maybe 2 or less people who actually keep up with my worldbuilding#enough to know where that is lol (the same continent as Navyete (where the avirre'thel live)) and there's a decent concentration#of nothern jhevona only a short ways away so... tee hee..I shall pretend it makes sense and not merely me just wanting#to represent more of that species because I think their lore is interesting lol#I MEAN also realistically there would NOT be a human here because humans are extremely isolated species that don't even know the rest#of the world exists really and human territories are extremely protected from the outside world but... of course it's like.. well we need#at least One of them to be there for the Optional Lore. Same with the Ythrili. But at least those are like.. PLAUSIBLE.. not nonsensically#outlandish. If I had a Verrucalt or something in there THEN that would be truly lore-breaking almost lol#ANYWAY.. rambling that only means anything to me because nobody else knows what I'm even referencing but hbjh#also I think my character designs are so funny in the sense that I really do just love to do the same thing over and over again ghbjh#wow... random asymmetry and belts and arm straps and high collars where the neck is completely covered?? you dont say..how novel
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household enemy to the yyh watchthrough number one is the olympics. it's taken us a week to get two episodes into the gamemaster fight
#out of three. please the third episode's what makes it okay im fighting for my life out here#it is NOT for lack of trying on my part but theres only a brief window of time when the olympics is not happening#and as it turns out the watchthrough is Not my mom's first priority (how dare she etc)#i do feel slightly bitter that we've gotten through two eps of band o brothers in the same time#we are fighting for the same timeslots yet somehow the hour long show's gotten a leg up??#you don't have time for a 23 min ep but DO for a 60 min one?? explain the math to me please#idk how to explain the vague feeling of betrayal bc it Does Not make sense Nor matter in the slightest#but cmonnnn we were doing so well. and my little bro's starting up school again soon and my dad's gotta go back to work#sometimes eventually (<- hes on medical leave) and my grandparents are coming over next week We're Losing Time Soon#ughhh if i'd known the olympics were happening (<- somehow completely oblivious to this) i'd have accounted for#my mom getting whisked away by the land of synchronized divers and shot putters and whatever the hell#happens in the summer olympics (<- only pays attention to winter olys)#bc that always happens. and *i* have to go back to school in Some Amount Of Time Im Too Scared To Check (p sure it's late aug though) and#when that happens i'll (hopefully) be stuck across town which means we won't be able to do it any time besides the weekends#and i don't wannaaaaa#i know this is the least important problem anyone's ever had like i get that i know but#it's important to me that they sit down and watch this with me. and watching it pull apart and being#the one who's easily the most invested it makes me look all desperate when i ask them for their time and they can't give it#we can only pull this off neatly in the summer and we were so close and now we're losing it right at the finish line#i don't want life to get in the way of this little bubble i've fought so hard to make y'know#and it's childish and embarrassing and whatever but i just want them to have fun with me with this thing i care about a lot#but i can't do that bc my mom needs to watch the judo matches at Every weight class#even though she's recording a lot of them? i don't understand but whatever i know it's her thing im just moping about it ig#i want it to be as perfect an experience for them as possible and it's slipping away from me#and i don't wanna leave this project unfinished when i start school y'know. sighh#i think they might feel like i only want them around when we're watching stuff. whcih is weird bc that's like#The Singular Way we family bonded literally my whole life so idk why they wouldn't get that when reversed#but either way that IS how i wanna spend time with them. i want them to understand this thing that's become a part of me#and i wanna talk With them about it. and so far it's been fun in a way it's never been before. my mom at least seems to really like it#and i want it to Keep going well bc if we lose momentum im worried they'll start finding it tedious. sighh
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oh yeah. the reason why i decided to reread tbhk (and thus it was able to hit me like a truck this time around) was actually not bc of mitsukou going canon but actually bc i maybe accidentally started a tbhk book club w my kids at work and wanted to check the contents of it justttt in case before i put the books in their hands
#tl;dr i have this one 4th grade boy who's a total weeb and knows that i'm the only one in this town who's more into japanese media than him#so he pesters me abt it every time he sees me. and the thing abt this kid is that he gets bored easily and if he does he turns into a#complete menace. now a couple weeks ago. he shows up at the program w one piece volume one and spends the entire time he's there peacefully#reading and not causing any problems on purpose. my coworker owen (the one who climbed onto the roof) and i were shocked and in awe of how#peaceful he was being and came to the conclusion that he NEEDS to have a manga volume in his hands at all times. few minutes later.#he finishes reading and isn't bored yet so he decides to go talk to me abt manga. specifically he starts pestering me abt what shonen i've#read despite the fact that i am a shoujo reader and told him that. but he knows i've read kuroshitsuji bc he previously asked me abt what#the worst anime i've ever watched is and i will never not take an excuse to drag the adaptation. and he figures that if i've read kuro i've#probably read more. and so i mention tbhk and he asks more abt it bc of the name involving toilets and him being a 4th grade boy so i give#brief overview and he wants to read it. and i come up with a scheme to make him peaceful AND to give him something to talk to me abt which#isn't 'i know you've read more shonen manga' 'let me gacha on your phone' or 'i saw an ad for rent a gf. thought it was lame. and now want#you to tell me how it sucks bc i assume you know everything abt every animanga ever' (<does unfortunately know too much abt rent a gf bc i'#a bit of a nosy bastard and watched the mother's basement video). so i offered to bring it in bc i own physicals of the whole series and of#as previously mentioned. gave it a quick reread in advance just in case. and got hit by it. hard. i love you tbhk almost as much as i love#when ppl get into things through me. honestly i think getting to live vicariously through him might be one of the main reasons it got me#this time around and not as much the first time (still loved it the first time though). flash forward a little while. one of the 3rd grade#girls is like. really into reading. and also macabre things. like ghosts. and she has two books from the school library. and has had the#same two books from the school library for over a week. she reads quickly and finished them both in under a day and is now bored out of her#mind rereading them. she asks to read the books i've been letting the other kid read. now there are two of them#romeo.txt
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i seriously need to get a new job and start making money again asap bc i cannot keep living at home much longer it’s driving me insane
(wrote an entire essay in the tags without meaning to oops)
#i feel so isolated from everything bc i’m not in school rn but all my friends are and 90% of the ones who are in state go to the same school#so they’re all in the same town and here i am 45 minutes away#i never get invited to anything bc 1) my friends all tend to make plans really last minute#and 2) if we want to go out and drink - which we usually do bc that’s the stage of life we’re in rn - i’d have to stay the night with#someone bc i absolutely cannot afford a 45 minute uber home and most of my friends don’t like staying over / having people stay over#so i have basically no social life and it’s only gotten worse in the past couple months since i got laid off from my main job#not only did i love that job but i loved my coworkers and work was pretty much the only time i left the house and interacted with people#and without that job i can’t even do the little solo things i used to do to cheer myself up like go see a movie#or even just go for a long drive bc i’m broke (as in i have $17 in cash to my name and am like $1000 in debt rn)#so all i do is rot in bed all day and apply for jobs that i’m overqualified for yet still don’t get hired#i barely even leave my room bc i avoid my family which just makes me feel guilty bc i love my family#but they get on my nerves so easily and most of the conversations i have with my mom end in her lecturing me about something and me crying#and on top of everything it’s just straight up embarrassing to be unemployed and completely directionless about college and living at home#logically i know i’m still very young and it’s common to live at home when you’re 20 but literally none of my friends do#i had a couple friends who lived at home for the first 2 years after high school and went to community college but by now they’ve moved out#and they’re all at universities and either graduating this year or next year meanwhile the earliest i could possibly graduate is in 2 years#i should be finishing my junior year rn but i’ve only completed my freshman year#i hated the school i was at and planned on transferring sophomore year but long story short that didn’t work out#even longer story short i ended up doing a semester each at 2 different community colleges and failed all my classes both times#and took 2 semesters off so now i’m a full 2 years behind and even though my freshman year was miserable#i’m starting to wish i stayed at that school anyway bc at least i would be at a university and accomplishing something#plus theres a huge difference between staying at home for a couple years after high school then moving out later#vs living on your own right away then having to move back home after you’ve already experienced having your own space#and on top of everything i have an older sister who’s a literal genius and graduated last year#and a younger sister who just finished her freshman year at the school i hated but she loves it and got perfect grades and made friends#so they’re both thriving and here i am living with my mom and my 13 year old brother and just completely failing at everything#i’m just so miserable and obviously moving out again and going back to school wouldn’t magically fix everything#but at least i would feel like my life was going somewhere and i wasn’t getting left behind by everyone i know#i just have no idea how to move forward and i feel like ever since high school not a single thing has gone the way i wanted it to#vent
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i am by no means a complete james defender, but that doesn't mean i hate his guts. i just think that his character is poorly written after a certain point.
#q.txt#seeing people continually hate on him makes me a bit sad#the guy lost the love of his life then immediately jumped into another one right after#it was impulsive; he clearly hadn't moved on from laura when he got with donna#do i support it? not at that point#maybe if he took the time to grieve properly THEN decided he wanted to be with donna yeah#do i support his actions? no#the two suffer from insecure teenagers unable to properly articulate their problems syndrome#leaving donna behind sucks#but it isn't completely out of the blue#the guy's struggling w/ his grief over laura and needs to get out of town to process it#could that conversation have gone down better? certainly#but i don't think he's being malicious toward donna#they're both struggling teenagers#i do wish it was written better though#cause we did NOT need the grooming plot point between him and that woman#that gave me major ick#and i think people completely forget that because they hate james#like hello??? an ADULT WOMAN is actively seeking him out because she's ATTRACTED TO HIM#anyways i'm taking james away from david lynch and mark frost#and writing him a better arc
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Recently I decided to go to my local fighting game tournament.
Here's how it went.
I had been getting pretty good at Guilty Gear over the past few weeks, to the point where I was getting the input correctly for the Potemkin Buster 1 out of every 4 or 5 times I tried it. So I thought "I might not be the best yet, but, surely good enough for my local" -- and I decided to go.
It took place at a the comic & games store in the town center. The venue was full of people 10-15 years younger than me and even more drastically cooler. They all turned to glare at me as I walked through the door, but as I stood completely motionless like a gazelle hoping to blend into the grassland, their gazes slowly returned to each other and they continued to banter friendlily.
I sat down next to me first opponent, and reached out to shake their hand. They looked down at my hand, and then up at my eyes slowly.
"You're supposed to do that at the end of the match."
"Oh, s-sorry"
I got perfected twice and lost the match. At the end, I reached out again to shake their hand, but they just stood up and walked away.
Because I lost, I got moved down to the loser's bracket, which was literally below the main tournament because it took place in the basement of the comic shop. I could hear footsteps, cheering, and happy conversation in the floor above. Here in the loser's bracket though, the mood was a lot more somber.
My next opponent reminded me a little bit of me. They were equally nervous and disheveled looking. They said "Um, h-hello" and reached out their hand for a handshake as they saw me approaching. I said "you're s-supposed to do that at the end of the match." But as a look of deep sadness came over their face and they slowly put down their hand, I pulled them in for a hug.
I'm not sure why I did that.
I think that some part of me knew that, in this dark, dank, alien place, illuminated only by a single failing ceiling light and the neon glow of a few arcade machines, I had at last found a friend -- someone I understood, and who might understand me too.
They hugged back.
I lost that match by a very narrow margin, and as they jumped up and began dancing around and cheering ecstatically, I began to hate them. This was no friend of mine. A friend would not do this to me. After they were done dancing, they reached out to shake my hand. After a few seconds of pause, I stuck out my hand too, but didn't look at them and refused to close it around theirs as they grasped it. They shook my karate chop.
I thought that at that point, since I had lost and then lost in loser's bracket, I was free to go home. But one of the tournament organizers approached me and informed me that I was going down to sub-loser's bracket in the sub-basement of the store, and pointed me towards a descending staircase.
The people there were fewer, and it was darker. I could faintly hear sobbing in one of the corners, but as I went to investigate, another participant put his hand on my shoulder. He furrowed his brow in a look of pain and shook his head slowly.
"You can't do anything for them."
In sub-loser's bracket I went up against a man in a suit whose face was cloaked in shadow. He spammed May's dolphin move. I lost.
As I went to go back upstairs, one of the tournament organizers held out her palm to stop me, and pointed towards a staircase leading further down instead.
Going down through the levels, I lost to many interesting participants. One player played exclusively by bashing the controller against his face. One player was a mushroom with a few circuit cables clipped onto it, that I later learned was able to play because its bioelectrical signals got sent to a machine that interpreted them as fighting game inputs. One player didn't touch their controller at all, but instead just told me their life story, which was so tragic that I picked up their controller and won for them.
Finally, at the very bottom floor, where construction standards were long abandoned and the stairs and walls were just messily carved out of the earth's stone, I faced my final player. It was a small bit of metal framework, with a controller nestled in it. On it was a tiny piston that just pressed the jab button exactly once every second. I lost.
I hung my head for a moment, then said "close game" and stuck my hand out for a handshake, before remembering that I had played against a metal framework cube with a piston in it and retracting my hand slowly. Then I heard a slow clapping from the darkness.
"No neutral. No footsies."
Out of the darkness slowly walked a woman about my age, clad in a decorative poofy dress that looked more expensive than my entire life savings. She smiled at me warmly, continuing to clap slowly, but there was a hint of mischief in her eyes.
"No meter management. No mixups. No spacing. No learning. No strategy…
…You're perfect."
"Wh-what?"
"You're perfect. I absolutely must have you."
"Have me for…um…for what…"
(Her eyes went wide as her smile grew more manic.)
"WHY, MY MORON FAILSON HAREM OF COURSE."
"Um, I-I"
"Tell me, what do you do for a living? Let me guess, you work at a fast food restaurant? Or, retail?"
"No, I'm a--I'm a comic artist."
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! Oh my god, you are PERFECT. What will it take to get you."
"To-to ge--"
"You would be well taken care of, of course. 3 Michelin star dining for every meal. Only the finest, softest sweatpants and sweatshirts, pre-stained with whatever flavor of Takis your little heart desires. You would have access to the entire mansion except for the main foyer when I'm in business calls, and you could make all the comics and play all the fighting games you want."
"I'm uh--"
I knew that I had to think fast here.
"I'm already i-in a moron failson harem."
"Oh, DARN IT!! TELL ME, WHO IS IT??? WHO GOT YOU??"
"I-I think I'm not allowed to s-sa--"
She stomped her foot petulantly, her shoe clacking against the stone floor.
"WAS IT SHUXUAN?? IT'S ALWAYS SHUXUAN HOGGING ALL OF THE GOOD ONES."
"I-I'm sorry," I blurted out, shuffling along the wall to make a wide radius around her and then running up the staircase.
As I got home and began making my standard dinner of Trader Joe's microwave falafel, I thought about her offer. Maybe I should have taken her up on it after all. A 3 Michelin star meal right now wouldn't be so bad.
Then I hopped on Guilty Gear and lost 22 matches in a row.
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I CRUMBLE COMPLETELY WHEN YOU CRY ; SUGURU GETO
synopsis; after a tense fight with your boyfriend, you flee out into a brewing rainstorm. luckily, suguru is always willing to warm you up again.
word count; 6.2k
contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader, copious amounts of hurt/comfort, no really that’s literally all this fic is, sugu snaps at you for worrying about him, (and then promptly spirals), he makes it up to you though :), healthy communication ensues, [name] is used exactly once, switching povs, soft & fluffy ending <33
a/n; going back to my roots (mindless hurt/comfort) 🙏🙏 i just think that if suguru picked me up like a small kitten and put me in his lap it would fix me
you’re cold.
little shivers run through your body, trail down your spine, and all you can do is clench your chattering teeth and dig your nails into the skin of your palms. heavy rain falls down without mercy, going pitter patter as it hits the asphalt — a sudden lightning strike lights up the town, flashing in the reflection of puddles, and all you manage is a weak jolt.
dark clouds blanket the whole sky, not allowing even a sliver of blue to shine through the darkness of the rainy evening. enveloping you, surrounding you, soft earthy scents — wet asphalt, roses blooming to your left and right, bushes with sweet-smelling flora guiding your path. little petals, glistening with droplets and bouncing with the force of the rain.
it’d be comforting, were it not for one simple fact;
you don’t have an umbrella.
at this point, thirty minutes into your solemn, sniffly walk, you’re absolutely soaked. with only a measly hoodie to cover your body and head, and a tank top sticking to the skin beneath it — you were stupid to think you’d get out of it unscathed. your shoes are ruined, wet soles sticking to the asphalt, two heavy weights carrying you down the familiar street ahead.
you let out a shuddering breath.
gosh, this was stupid. you knew it was going to rain, but still walked out without a care in the world; despite the weather forecast, despite suguru’s warnings over breakfast, despite all those dark clouds covering the milk-blue sky. you just didn’t think it’d be this bad. you just felt so helpless.
you just couldn’t stay there.
some fresh air, and a bit of space. that was all you needed. just that one sliver of comfort.
so, yeah, maybe you weren’t thinking very clearly when you stormed out. maybe you weren’t thinking nearly enough, not enough to even grab one of the umbrellas hanging off the coatrack. hanging there just for you, the cutest little frog umbrella, one suguru bought for you himself. big, googly eyes, and a big smile. the most perfect shade of green.
(he put it there just for you.)
maybe you weren’t thinking much at all. maybe you just needed to get away, away from him, away from the frustration on his features. arguments with suguru are few and far between; that fact only adds to the sting of his cold voice, still ringing in your ears. you bite down on your bottom lip again, just to stop it from wobbling so pitifully. blinking rapidly, tears and raindrops clinging to your lashline.
you were just worried. is that so awful?
(why did he have to be so fucking mean about it?)
a sigh flows from your lips, heavy and defeated, undeniably tired. you hate feeling like this, feeling this bitter, hate feeling like you’ve done something wrong. more than anything, you hate arguing with him — hate the idea of him being angry with you. hate the way his voice turns colder, just a little sharper, an octave lower. he never raises it, never ever, but somehow he still sounds so scary.
it bothers you. bothers you how sensitive you are, when it comes to him. just that shivering tilt of his voice, coupled with the annoyance in his eyes, and your eyes were already turning glassy. one little sentence, and you were close to breaking out into a sob. because suguru was angry with you, and that alone is enough to make you feel like you’ve done nothing right all your life.
so you left. because that was all you could do.
sure, the sharp pelting of the rain hurts a little, and the thunder is scary, and you’re awfully cold — but anything is better than having suguru see you burst into tears over such a small argument. you know he’d try to soothe you, know he’d feel guilty. but that just makes it all the more embarrassing.
(all the more pathetic.)
so you left, rushed out of your own apartment, and before you knew it the storm was rolling in above you. rain and thunder, something to rival the ache in your chest. it still hasn’t been that long, a little over half an hour, and you still haven’t fully calmed down. you still don’t know how to face him. but —
but fuck, it’s cold. and an undeniable part of you yearns to run back into his arms, to make up with him, to hear his voice turn warm and see his eyes go soft. you want him to soothe you so, so badly. like he always does.
another sigh — more resigned this time — slips from out your lips. your bones feel sore, you’re almost certain you’re going to catch a cold, and it’s getting late. you’re all alone, and it’s raining, and you look vulnerable and helpless.
you want to go home.
it’ll be awkward, but maybe you can sneak in somehow — without him noticing. then you can go straight to sleep, on the couch, and maybe you’ll feel a little better tomorrow. the two of you can talk it out over breakfast, over warm coffee, and you can tell him what you meant to say without stumbling over what words to use or dancing around the subject like a scared little child.
you’re just too tired to argue anymore.
he just made you feel so stupid. so very, very small. suguru’s been working so hard lately, coming home late, exhausting himself. all you wanted was to make sure he was okay. that, and to coax him into relaxing a bit; maybe take a day off to recharge. that was all.
but he just brushed you off.
and, well, maybe you should’ve backed off after that. maybe you should’ve taken that as a sign that suguru didn’t feel up to answering your questions. but you were just so worried, so pitifully anxious, and you just wanted to help him so, so badly.
suguru is always so dependable. always there to help you, to ground you, to console you. even when you push him away or insist you don’t need it. he can be pushy, when he feels like he needs to, when your health is at risk — and it’s frustrating, but you’ve always appreciated it. you just wanted to return the favour. push him, just a little, to show him how much you care. show him that he can depend on you the way he insists you do with him.
but then he grew frustrated.
”suguru… you’ve been working so much, i’m —” you bite down on your bottom lip. ”i’m just worried that you’re overdoing it.” ”… god. how many times do i have to say it? i know my limits, [name].” ”but — you just look so tired —” ”well, i’m sorry for that.” a cold smile. ”am i not living up to your expectations?”
(that’s not what you meant. he knows that’s not what you meant.)
and it makes you feel frustrated, too. pardon you for being worried. for wanting to be there for him, for once, for wanting to be a supportive partner and not just a burden.
pardon you for feeling a little lonely, with him coming home so late, leaving so early. with him not giving you the affection you’re so used to, and never confiding in you about his stress.
pardon you for wanting him to trust you, a little, even just a sliver more than not at all.
god, you’re exhausted. you just want to sleep — can’t you have that, at least? just that one thing? you don’t mind sleeping on the couch, don’t mind feeling like a stranger in your own home, as long as you get to rest your eyes. just for a little while.
your brain spins in circles, bitterness and longing heavy on your tongue, as you grumble over what to do or how to feel —
while your feet have already begun taking you home. moving almost on their own, on instinct, walking past rose bushes and backyards, the smell of glucose and rotting apples.
and you’re there before you know it: in front of the familiar door to your shared apartment, soaked from head to toe. still feeling a little lost.
for a second, you hesitate.
maybe he’s still angry. maybe he was happy to get some time away from you. maybe you’re just making things worse by doing this, maybe you should just —
but your fingers have already fished out the key from within your pocket, unlocking the door in one swift motion. moving up to curl around the doorknob, a desperation in your veins guiding you closer to his steady warmth.
and before you have the chance to waver again, you pull the door open and step inside.
you move slowly, gentle and careful, almost cautious. softly closing the door behind you and taking a couple quiet steps forward, only to shrug off your hoodie — heavy, soaking wet and discomforting as you pull it over your head. clumsily, you try to get it off you, squirming when the warm indoors air meets your sweaty tank top. it feels soothing on your bare skin, though, ghosting over your shoulders and collarbone, hoodie now clinging to your elbows.
in the middle of the taxing endeavor, you almost fail to notice the presence of a certain someone, standing just a little farther away.
almost, because it’d be impossible for you to miss him, that heavy gaze of his.
and before you can think the thought to do anything else, you’ve locked eyes with him — arms still tangled up in the wet sleeves of your hoodie, raindrops and sweat sticking to your skin.
(suguru takes a moment to look at you.)
not daring to say anything, afraid to part your lips, you simply stand there. in silence, like a deer in headlights. for some reason, you can’t really read his expression — you’re a little too tired, a little too caught off guard.
you can only blink, worry surely evident in your furrowed brows, as the seconds tick on and on. tense, tense, tense.
and then he’s walking away again.
crestfallen. that’s probably the best way to describe how you feel right now, watching him disappear around the corner. dejected, as your eyes fall to the floor, and your posture wilts like a dying rose. you finally shake off your hoodie and watch it fall to the floor with a gross, wet plap.
it hurts. you want to cry. you can’t help it. even though a part of you is still upset, even though a part of you fully expected this to happen…
another part was still hoping he’d be happy to see you. as if just seeing his smile again might’ve fixed everything.
but he didn’t even give you that.
that’s that, then. there’s nothing you can do except proceed with your original plan. you’ll change into some warm, dry clothes, and go to sleep on the couch like the miserable dog you are. you’ll leave everything troublesome and disheartening for tomorrow’s you to handle.
for now, you just have to worry about getting some sleep. you don’t have to think about suguru, or his cold voice, or the way he just walked away without saying anything.
you don’t have to think about him at all.
(don’t think. don’t think. don’t —)
— the soft patter of footsteps breaks you out of your anxious spiral. they come closer and closer, until a certain silhouette enters your vision out of the corner of your eye.
a certain suguru geto, hair down and cascading past his shoulders, wearing a comfortable sweater and loose sweatpants with a fluffy towel in tow.
once again, you can only blink. a vaguely confused deer in headlights. suguru comes closer and closer, until you can clearly see his eyes, amber gold, full of an emotion you finally manage to identify —
worry.
(ah.)
before you can say anything, he’s draped the towel around you. it feels nice, a soft texture on your skin, big enough to engulf you completely, cocooning you. cozy and snug. you can’t help but melt a little when suguru places his big hand over the towel and smooths it over your cheek, drying off your skin so gently that you feel like crying again.
”are you cold?” he asks, concern evident in his voice. to your immense relief, it sounds nowhere near as scary as before. ”you’re soaked…”
suguru almost seems to be pouting, bottom lip jutting out the slightest bit, eyebrows furrowed softly. still rubbing the raindrops off your skin. he looks awfully troubled, undeniably anxious, and the way he’s caressing your skin feels so earnestly caring. the towel feels warm, like he went the extra mile to heat it up for you.
and, more than anything, the feeling of suguru’s big hands cupping your face is almost heavenly. even though the touch is indirect, you can’t help but bask in his warmth, almost desperate to cling to it after escaping from the harsh cold of the rain. like he could slip away and leave you again if you don’t stay perfectly still, just like this.
it’s soothing. so, so soothing. but it also makes you feel kind of meek.
you sound sheepish when you answer, voice a little hoarse after your grueling walk. throat dry from all the crying. ”nah, ’m fine…”
the words are tiny, fragile like pieces of glass, and they only make suguru’s brows furrow further, pout turning into a soft frown as he gazes down at you.
(he hates how small you look. like you’re curling in on yourself.)
as soon as you left the apartment, a wave of regret washed over him. it was expected, obviously, because that’s what always happens after the two of you argue — which is almost never, which only makes the cut in his heart run deeper.
he felt frustrated. and tired, so tired. but when he saw your troubled expression, the way your eyes watered slightly before you rushed out…
he could only feel guilty.
and that sensation only deepened as he sat on the couch and spiraled, over the course of forty long minutes, playing the interaction back inside his head. over and over, thinking about your words, his words, some of which he desperately wishes he could take back.
and when it started raining? suguru could only feel regret, hot and ugly, dragging him into his own thoughts. could only drown in his worries, look out the window anxiously. thinking of you, his sweet baby, stuck under the onslaught of dark clouds and lightning strikes and heavy rain.
(you didn’t bring an umbrella.)
suguru waited. that was all he could do.
he didn’t think it was possible for him to feel so useless. fighting with himself, the part of him that wanted to give you the space you needed clashing with the part that yearned to run after you — scoop you up and apologize, hold you tight and protect you from the rainfall. you weren’t answering his calls, and he didn’t want to overwhelm you, didn’t want to make you feel even worse. afraid to scare you off for good.
so he could only sit there and worry, sit there and wait, wallow in his own shame until he heard the faintest sound of the front door unlocking. followed by the sound of it creaking open, slowly — and that was all he needed.
and there you were. standing by the entrance, entirely soaked, tank top sticking to your skin and that flimsy hoodie hanging off your arms, cheeks a little red from the cold and strands of hair sticking to your skin.
like a tiny kitten left out in the rain.
it made him feel so painfully anxious. his heart aching so deeply, so viscerally, while all he could think about was smothering you in affection. taking care of you, like he always wants to do, needs to do to stay sane. so suguru left, to go grab something to dry you off with —
and now he’s here. in front of you, smothering you with the towel rather than his love, fretting over you like an overprotective mother.
suguru yearns to soothe you. to take care of you. always, always, always, his hands on your skin and lidded amber eyes staring deeply into yours. offering himself like a shelter to a stray dog, hoping so tenderly that you’ll take the bait.
(he just wants you to feel safe with him again.)
so he stumbles for something, anything to say, afraid of overstepping or making you uncomfortable. you did just argue, and suguru was anything but patient with you. usually he would be; he’d make sure to be. but with work piling up, and exhaustion clinging to every pore of his skin…
he failed at maintaining his composure.
he needs to make it up to you. despite everything — even though he feels a little awkward, a little restless, still drowning a little in shame — he just wants to tend to you. that, and nothing more.
”hang on,” he exhales, stepping back and letting go of the towel. ”i’ll go draw you a bath…”
”ah — no need,” you smile, a little forced, swiftly reassuring him. he can tell you don’t really know how to act after everything that happened; still walking on eggshells. ”i’ll just take a quick shower.”
suguru wants to protest, wants to coax you into taking a proper bath, into letting your cold skin and aching bones relax completely —
but he can only hum, a little unsure. a little sad.
”… okay. got it.”
perplexed, he tries his hand at another tactic. still so desperate to take care of you in whatever way you’ll allow, like always, but he thinks it’s worse now. even more desperate, after the fight you had, after seeing your frail, shivering self. resisting the urge to scoop you up and coddle you is a struggle.
”i can make you tea?” he tries, inwardly wincing at the way the words spill from his lips; uncertain, awkward. what a mess.
but you smile, slightly more genuinely this time, a soft little thing. it soothes some of the anxiety rotting through his ribs.
”tea would be great, thank you.”
you brush past him, warm towel still hanging off your shoulders. ”i’ll just take a shower in the meantime,” you murmur, and suguru can do nothing but nod, watching you go.
he swallows thickly.
(that’s that, then.)
tea. right. what kind of tea? something warm, and soothing, and good for your throat. chamomile? peppermint? he’ll add a spoon of honey, just the way you like.
suguru’s mind spins in circles while his feet take him to the kitchen, hands swiftly rummaging through cabinets and getting the electric kettle ready. placing teacups and a teapot on the table, cute little floral designs he couldn’t help but fill your kitchen with. pouring hot peppermint tea into the pot, a strong scent drifting through the kitchen, drowning his senses in bliss.
caught up in his own head, losing track of time, suguru fails to notice you walking from the bathroom — stopping by the threshold of the kitchen, hesitant to make your presence known. a few silent moments pass. with a tiny inhale, mint invading your senses, you take a step forward. calm and sleepy, skin still pleasantly hot from the warm shower, hair still a little damp.
only then does suguru notice you, his gaze drifting to your figure as if instinctively drawn to it.
you’re clad in some comfortable sweatpants, and an oversized hoodie — his hoodie, the one with the unreasonably soft texture, the one you tend to gravitate towards — the one he likes to see you in the most, because you always look so thoroughly comfy in it. almost drowning in the fabric.
seeing you all warm and cozy, in his clothing no less, sends a tremor of pure warmth running through suguru’s chest. sprouting in his heart and spreading throughout his entire body. he can’t bring himself to resist the soft curl of his lips, gazing at you so fondly he’s almost sure you notice it.
”i made peppermint,” he says, a little breathless, already pouring boiling tea into two cups on the table. ”that okay?”
”yeah,” you answer, instantaneous. stifling a yawn. you’d have been fine with anything, really.
the shower worked wonders for your muddled mind; chasing away the shivers down your spine, that unpleasant chill to your skin. most importantly, it gave you a moment to simply relax, to bask in the peace and quiet. feel the hot water surround you, melt your bones like softened clay. you feel a little better, now. still anxious, more than a little sleepy, but better. and right now, that’s all you need.
with a groggy kind of pep in your step, you stumble over to the kitchen table, plopping down on the chair across from where suguru is sitting. trying to get comfortable, knees pressed against your chest, muttering a soft thank you while gingerly touching the rim of the cup.
(suguru frowns, just barely, at the sight. usually you’d sit right next to him. but now you’re in front of him, so very far — as if you’re strangers.
it breaks his heart, a little bit.)
a soft hum leaves your lips when you take a sip of the tea — all warm and comforting and minty on your tongue, a vague taste of something sweet. it’s relaxing, more than anything, and it makes you feel a little more okay with everything.
suguru only watches you, drinking absentmindedly from his own cup. not really tasting anything.
finally, he opts to clear his throat — and your attention falls on him instantly.
”hey,” he starts, ready to address the elephant in the room. his voice is gentle, but decisive, firm somehow. ”about before…”
your body tenses, ever so slightly, fingers uncurling around the handle of the teacup. there’s a kind of shift in the air around you, in suguru’s tone of voice — and you were expecting it, waiting for it anxiously, but that doesn’t make it any less harrowing.
here it comes, your mind seems to sing. here comes the moment everything shatters again.
with as much strength as you can muster, you smile. a little sheepish, just a tad forced, refusing to meet his eyes from across the table. staring into the murky green of your cup and hoping in vain that you can somehow escape this discomfort.
(you just want to rest. you just want to not have to think about anything.)
”it’s fine, suguru,” you cut him off. softly, but there’s a certain tilt to your voice that strikes him as rather cold. ”we can just drop it.”
the decision in his eyes doesn’t waver. you look meek, awfully troubled, and he hates to force you into another discussion when you’re undoubtedly tired — but suguru’s mind is set. he’s been evasive enough, today.
”no. i want to talk about it properly.”
at that, you seem to deflate a little. suguru is nothing if not stubborn, a quality that always manages to coexist with his gentleness, his desire to be a good partner for you. you can tell he won’t allow you to wriggle away, now that you’re both finally calm. he’s not doing it to exhaust you, not doing it to gain some sort of satisfaction out of ”winning” the argument — he’s doing it because he knows it’s the right thing to do. even if it makes you both a little uncomfortable.
communication is important, immensely so. suguru knows it very well.
and you do, too.
so all you do is curl into yourself, shifting in your seat, allowing him to speak his mind and sipping quietly on your tea. biting back a disgruntled huff, gaze lingering on the tablecloth, little calico cats etched into the fabric. he wanted one with yellow stripes, but still bought this one just for you. just like the ugly matching couple mugs you forced him into buying, the green colour of your kitchen wallpaper. he always places you before himself.
(all you wanted was to change that. just for a night, if nothing else. and he got mad at you for it.)
suguru sighs. it sounds fatigued, not frustrated or disappointed. he runs a hand through his hair, and you can’t help but follow the movement, the soft silky strands and the way he smooths them over. practiced, familiar, absentminded. you could watch him do it forever.
”i had a lot of time to think while you were gone,” he begins, recalling the mental gymnastics he went through while you were away. just sitting on the couch and running himself ragged, trying to be impartial, trying to see your point of view without letting his own bias get in the way.
you sink a little further into the chair, eyes downcast. inhaling the scent of peppermint, trying to prepare yourself for what he might say, the ways this could all go wrong.
”and i realized that you were right.”
…
you blink. once, then twice.
hesitantly, you raise your head, searching for suguru’s gaze. he isn’t looking at you, staring out at the rainfall through the window as if in deep thought. his gaze shifts to meet yours, and something soft flickers through his golden eyes.
he looks troubled, though. trying to find the right words, mind clouded by guilt. chewing at his bottom lip anxiously.
it takes him a moment to gather his thoughts, to weigh the words in his mind, just to make sure he gets them across as smoothly as possible. he’s had more than enough time to verbalize his feelings, to think about what he wants to say to you. it was all he could do while he waited.
so his voice is earnest, when he continues, sincerely apologetic and thought out.
”i’m always telling you not to overwork yourself. and here i am, doing the same thing…” another sigh. ”you were just worried. i shouldn’t have lashed out — you didn’t deserve that.”
suguru searches for your gaze, and manages to find it. you falter a little under the weight of his eyes, but they’re warm, remorseful. a setting sun.
”i’m sorry.”
a moment of silence passes. then two. three, five. you look down at your cup, the purple hyacinths etched into the porcelain. crumbling under his gaze, at the sound of his genuine apology.
and suddenly, you feel silly — silly for being so scared, for thinking suguru might still be angry with you. for thinking he wouldn’t spend as much time as needed to properly think about your words, your feelings, even if he might not have been ready to do so when he first heard them.
suguru can be stubborn, if he’s convinced that he’s in the right. but he always, always seeks you out eventually, always makes sure to genuinely look at things from your perspective.
and, really, it means everything. it means enough to wash away all your leftover irritation, from having him brush you off when you know you didn’t do anything wrong. all the leftover sadness from being pushed away, from not being allowed to take care of him the way he always does for you.
suguru isn’t perfect, but he tries harder than anyone you know. tries his very best to be as close to perfect as he can possibly get — for you, for the both of you. he’s considerate enough, mature enough to take the time he needs to properly communicate. that’s how much he loves you.
and yes, doing so makes you a little uncomfortable. but when faced with something like that, someone so kind, who loves you like the rain loves the ground — how could you ever bear not to do the same?
”… it’s fine,” you start, softly. ”maybe i overreacted a bit. ’s just —” a gulp. you’re trying your best to verbalize your feelings, the way suguru just did, the way he always does.
and he waits, patiently. for as long as you need. looking at you from across the table softly, already immensely relieved at the lack of tension in the air.
”i don’t like seeing you so tired. i know that your work is important, and i support you, but…” your voice goes quiet, as you trail off, hoping he’ll understand what you mean. ”you know.”
and suguru does. he does understand, he always will. so he hums.
”i know,” he murmurs, softly. ”it wasn’t an overreaction. i just didn’t realize it myself. got too caught up in everything,” a sharp exhale leaves his lips. ”it’s been… a long week. i’m not using that as an excuse, though.”
you listen attentively, eyes softening at his words. you can tell that he means it, that you finally got your message across. all you wanted was for him to take a break, to take care of himself.
to let you take care of him.
suguru continues. he makes it a point to look into your eyes as he speaks — a little intimidating, especially in a situation like this — but you know it reassures him, that it lets him know you really understand what he’s trying to say.
so you hold his gaze, as steady as you can, glancing down at his collarbone when it becomes just a little too much.
”i’m grateful that i have you,” he says, voice dripping with softness, gazing at you with a fondness that has you crumbling all over again. ”and that you care enough to set me straight when i need it.”
and suguru means it. he means it more than anything else. not once has he ever stopped appreciating you, all the things you do for him; always so sweet and caring, even when it’s subtle. this was no exception. you’re always worried, always looking out for him. he feels awful for getting so defensive. for pushing you away, when you were trying so earnestly to reach him.
but he’ll make up for all of that, starting now.
”i mean it. i appreciate you so much, you have no idea — i’m so sorry if i made you think otherwise.” for a moment, his eyes look a little glassy, swimming in remorse. ”i really, really am.”
(and when he looks at you like that, when he speaks so very gently —
how could you ever bear not to forgive him?)
you shift in your seat again. gazing down, chewing at your bottom lip. his honesty makes you falter, makes it hard for you not to do the same; even if your voice ends up sounding awfully tiny and awfully close to breaking apart.
”… i was just worried,” you mumble, meekly, shooing away any tears you have left with rapid blinks.
”i know,” suguru soothes. the smile on his face is genuine, comforting, honey and peppermint and warmth. ”i was being immature. you were right — i’ve been burning myself out.”
you don’t say anything. only letting his words console you, feeling yourself relax at the sound of him opening up a little. just enough to make everything all better again.
”i was thinking of taking tomorrow off,” he continues, searching for your timid gaze and smiling gently once he finds it. ”what do you say?”
you brighten a little, so obvious in the way you sit up straighter, the way something soft and hopeful blossoms in the scope of your iris. the sight coaxes suguru’s patient smile into widening a smidge, his eyes crinkling at your barely contained excitement.
”that’d be nice…” you murmur, averting your gaze once more. but suguru can tell you like the sound of that, that it’s exactly what would finally put your anxious mind at ease.
a smile, bright and fond. suguru opens his arms.
”then i will.”
for a moment, you simply stare. at him, his outstretched limbs — that soft smile, as he waits for you to get the hint. and you blink.
oh.
you look down at your lap. a little sheepish, almost shy. it takes you another moment to raise your head, again, only to see another gentle flicker in suguru’s eyes — and then you finally get up from your seat.
it feels a little strange. a little awkward, as if some of your bones still can’t help but tread on eggshells, afraid of making him upset again. but it’s suguru, and he loves you, and his arms are waiting patiently to hold you.
and you want that more than anything.
so you fall into his arms, softly, curling up in his lap and wrapping your arms around his waist. suguru has one hand on the back of your head and the other on the small of your back, rubbing comforting circles into your spine to make you relax.
it works wonders. despite your initial hesitance, you melt into the embrace without putting up a fuss — happy to be in his arms again, to feel the anxiety dissipate when you realize that everything’s finally alright.
and suguru is just as happy, just as content. breathing out a sigh of relief he didn’t know he was holding. he strokes your hair lovingly, and you nuzzle into him a little more; making his lips quirk up, eyes filling with adoration. finally, he can relax. having you in his arms feels so soothing. and you’re so sweet, curling into him, seeking comfort and warmth that he’s more than happy to provide.
how long has it been since he had a chance to hold you like this? he made sure to be affectionate whenever he could, before leaving for work and after coming back — but in the midst of all the paperwork and stress…
suguru sighs, a little sadder this time, watching you bask in the attention he had been robbing you of this whole time. without even realizing it.
”and i’m sorry for neglecting you, too,” he murmurs, barely above a whisper. muffled by your hair as he presses a kiss against the crown of your head.
that certainly gets your attention.
”neglecting me?” you sputter, eyes suddenly wide open and lips parted in disbelief. flustered, heat rushing to your neck and ears. ”wha — what am i, some high-maintenance puppy? you didn’t neglect me.”
suguru only chuckles, biting back a soft coo that he knows would only fluster you more. instead, he pulls away a little, just to look at you, and pecks your forehead softly.
”well, i’m sorry for not being around much, then. i’ll make it up to you. okay?”
hiding away in his collarbone, again, you mutter a soft okay that has suguru’s heart squeezing in his chest. he cradles you close, engulfs you in his embrace, and hopes you can feel his love through the action. hopes you can feel it in the way his arms fit around you like they were always meant to be right there.
and you do feel his love. feel it smooth away the leftover turmoil in your brain, caress your skin softly. it’s soothing, and comforting, and you feel so incredibly safe. here, in suguru’s embrace, with the sound of rain hitting the window and the scent of peppermint wafting through the kitchen — it’d be impossible not to relax.
before you know it, your eyelids have fluttered shut, breathing softening out and heartbeat slowing down. a peaceful rhythm, carrying you away. suguru notices it before you do.
”you sleeping, baby?”
you jolt a little in his arms — murmuring something unintelligible into his neck, and he only chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest like a soothing thunderstorm.
”c’mon. let’s get you to bed, hm?”
suguru smooths a hand down your back, arms tightening around you before he scoops you up and gets up from his seat. ”there we go,” he hums, helping you hike your legs around his waist. ”you can sleep, angel. i’ve got you.”
your arms tighten around him, and you inhale his scent; grounding and comforting, raindrops and roses. tomorrow you can bask in it properly, can take care of him properly. you’ll coddle him all day.
but for now, you need to get some rest.
allowing your senses to dull away, clinging to suguru like a makeshift pillow, you absently listen to the storm still raging on outside. faraway, cold and harsh, but comforting when you’re in his steady grasp.
a yawn escapes your honey-soothed throat.
you don’t miss the i love you murmured into your ear, accompanying you into dreamland as your eyes flutter shut.
#geto x reader#geto x you#geto x y/n#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#geto suguru x y/n#suguru geto x reader#getou suguru x reader#geto fluff#geto hurt/comfort#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jjk fluff#jjk hurt/comfort
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i went on a deep dive of the Steve & Hopper ao3 tag yesterday and and it got me thinking about what would happen if Chief of Police Hopper ran into Steve and Eddie while he was on patrol after pseudo-adopting Steve, and it’s been long enough that Hopper is sort of a safe-person for Steve so Steve goes into full-fledged bitch mode when Hopper tries to pull cop stuff on them, and Eddie (who knew about none of this because Steve is a chronic under-sharer) is so totally baffled.
He’d spent years watching Steve sweet-talk his way out of trouble. Even before they started hooking up it used to drive Eddie goddamn insane, because if (when) Eddie pulled any of this shit Steve gets away with, he’d be totally screwed, but all Steve has to do is flash a sheepish grin and run a hand through his hair once or twice and say, all baleful, “I really didn’t mean any trouble,” and he’s home free.
It has its perks though, or so he's learned during his last few months of hanging around with Steve, so when Steve and Eddie’s make-out session is interrupted by the tell-tale red and blue lights of a cop car pulling up behind where Steve parked the Beemer a few hundred yards down a maintenance road, Eddie’s not all that worried. In fact, he’s got a pretty good amount of faith in Steve’s ability to spin up some story to keep them out of any real trouble, and as Chief Hopper ambles over to them, Eddie prepares himself for a whole show of, “Yes Chief, sorry Chief, it won’t happen again Chief.”
So imagine Eddie's complete and utter surprise when Hopper barks, “Hey, morons! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” and Steve only rolls his eyes and says, “What’s it to you?”
Eddie feels his jaw drop.
“Steve,” he mutters through gritted teeth. He tries to elbow Steve into shutting the hell up, but he misses because Steve has already taken several steps forward to meet Hopper, his face turned up in a kind of defiance Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever seen on him before.
“What’s it to me?” Hopper repeats, glowering at Steve, “It’s midnight. I’m on patrol. You’ve got one of the most recognizable cars in this entire damn town parked in a restricted-access zone with this idiot–” Hopper gestures at Eddie (Eddie didn’t think the pointing or the idiot were necessary, but clearly, clearly, he’s missing something here), “–who’s been dragged into my station more times than I could count.”
“The town line, Hop, is over there,” Steve says, pointing at an indiscriminate spot over Hop’s shoulder that may or may not be part of the Hawkins town line, “We’re not even in Hawkins anymore. You’re totally out of your jurisdiction.”
“You wanna know something about jurisdiction, smart-ass?” Hopper asks, “If my report says shit happened in my jurisdiction, it happened in my jurisdiction.”
“Wow,” Steve deadpans, “Way to not sound totally corrupt. Nice work, Chief.”
Hopper’s jaw twitches for a second, and he’s clearly debating if he wants to keep arguing with Steve who, to Steve’s credit, looks like he’s got debate in him for days. Ultimately though, Hopper decides against it and stalks back over to his squad car.
“If you’re not home by one there’s gonna be hell to pay. You hear me, Harrington?” Hopper yells, “One AM. Hell to pay.”
“Oh, sure,” Steve rolls his eyes, “Totally hear you. One AM. Loud and clear or whatever.”
Steve flips the cruiser both birds as it peels away, which Hopper only flashes his high beams at a couple times before he’s gone, kicking up a bunch of dirt and mulch and leaves in his wake, and Steve is wearing an exasperated expression as he turns to face Eddie again.
“God, he’s so annoying. Let’s just go to my house.”
Eddie gapes at him.
“What the fuck was that?”
“Huh?”
“What the fuck was that?” Eddie repeated, gesturing wildly towards where Hopper’s car had just been.
“Wha– you mean with Hop?”
“Uh, yeah?!?”
Steve just brushed him off, “Whatever, just ignore him. He’s basically my dad.”
“What?”
#idk maybe this is pre-season 3. maybe it’s a no-upside down au. who knows#might expand this and post on ao3 later if i’m feeling it#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#jim hopper#steve jim father-son relationship my beloved
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outlaw!toji who initially kidnapped you for money, to rob you from your valuable belongings, eventually forms a strange attachment to you. he can’t help but feel a faint twinge of guilt for robbing a pretty and delicate little thing like you.
so, he decides to let you return to your beloved family in town. though he does not let you go completely.
every now and then when toji is passing by the town you reside in - avoiding sheriffs and other people whom could possibly recognise him from the wanted posters plastered on every wall - he looks for you.
of course, you freak out the first time he sneaked up on you. however slowly yet surely, you let your guard down. the outlaw didn’t harm you in any way after all.
“how ‘re ya doin’, princess?” toji would always greet you with that signature, cocky smirk of his, leaning against a nearby wall with his arms crossed over his chiseled chest or his hands on his worn gun belt.
sometimes you reply quickly, but on other occasions you indulge him and continue the conversation. it’s often at night that he visits you, so you have less of a chance to get caught together.
you don’t know when or how toji found out where your family’s house is. he simply started showing up at your balcony once in a while, just to catch up. after a couple times, you even let him in.
those nightly visits swiftly turned into something more intimate. it feels so wrong yet so right. a dangerous criminal who’s killed hundreds, who had even kidnapped you one day, being invited into your bed— how scandalous.
though you can’t help it. his callused yet warm hands that touch your skin, his burly body that presses you into the mattress just right, his slightly chapped lips that nip at your flesh and leave marks. . . you don’t regret a thing.
especially when you’re both catching your breath after an intense encounter. toji’s muscular body, filled with countless of scars, blankets yours easily. his arms cradle you to his bare chest afterwards and all you can do is relax against him.
“i think i really hit the jackpot with ya, aye? may not have robbed ya of yer stuff that day, but i got ma prize money one way or ‘nother,” the rugged outlaw grins as he lights up a cigar and holds it between his lips.
you can’t even tell him off for smoking in your room. toji’s fingers massage your scalp so good to the point you’re putty in his hands. the scent of tobacco is also comforting. it’s one you associate with him, because he always smells like it. it’s always a combination of tobacco, nature, horses and gunpowder.
toji knows that he has to leave before anyone comes checking in on you, but he can’t leave you when you look so adorable, clinging onto him like a lifeline.
every time he visits, it’s the same exciting story.
when toji is in a more sentimental mood, he takes you out on a ride. he settles you on the back of his horse, speeding off into the sunset, letting you enjoy the view outside of town.
the beautiful freedom that comes with the life of an outlaw. the freedom of seeing nature in all its glory. you get to experience it all.
at times, when you’re out and about, he takes his chance and teaches you how to handle a gun. toji knows you’ve been spoiled rotten by your parents growing up, so you probably haven’t touched a gun a day in your life. that’s where he comes in.
“oi, watch out. yer gonna blow my fuckin’ face off, girl,” toji grunts with a faint chuckle as he notices your clumsy hand gestures while holding his revolver. it’s endearing, truly. he doesn’t yet understand why it warms his heart to see you try and shoot at the targets he set up.
what the outlaw loves more than that, is when you’re both resting against a large oak tree, with his head on your lap. especially after he gets back from a long and successful heist in a far away town.
toji often lets his cowboy hat cover his face while he naps and uses your thighs as the perfect, plush pillow. the gentle breeze only adds to the perfect moment.
when you take his stetson and put it on your head instead in a innocent gesture, he lazily opens one eye and raises a brow in amusement.
“oh? that yer way of telling me y’ want a ride?” toji teases before pinching your cheek. he loves seeing that flustered expression on your face when you’re once again reminded of the cowboy hat rule he taught you the other day.
toji never misses the opportunity, however. he sits up and leans back against the tree trunk, patting his thick thighs which he spreads lightly.
“hop on f’ me then, pretty. show me how good of a cowgirl y’ are, yeah?”
well, briefly said, it’s never a dull moment with outlaw!toji.
#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader#toji x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#toji x you#jjk x y/n#toji x y/n#toji fushiguro x reader#jjk x female reader#jjk fanfic#toji smut#toji fanfic#jjk fic#toji x female reader#female reader
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— summary: rafe cameron falls for the preachers daughter.
— warnings: smut! 18+ stalking, manipulation, rafe is obsessed with reader, fingering, hand riding for like a second, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, praise, oral (male receiving), soft!dom!rafe, innocent!naïve!reader, i think that’s it.
— note: this request was amazing. i love love rafe & innocent!reader, it makes me feel some type of way 🥹 this is kind of a long one, enjoy<3 likes, comments and reblogs are SO appreciated!!
❥ preachers daughter— r.c
Rafe wasn’t sure when his obsession with her started, all he knew was that he wanted her, wanted to ruin her.
He remembers the first time he had ever saw her, it was an early Sunday morning, his father had decided to drag him to Sunday morning service, something Rafe had never imagined himself going to…
… But man, was he glad he did.
He remembered every small detail about her from that morning. She was wearing a long green, floral dress that fell well past her knees, she had a white sweater pulled over her upper half, and a pair of beige strappy heels. Her hair had been done in loose curls, a soft white bow tying it up into a low ponytail, making Rafe blush at the innocence that emitted from her.
The smile that graced her beautiful lips had made Rafe grow painfully hard, having to excuse himself to the restroom to readjust himself.
Rafe had pushed her into the back of his mind though, knowing that a woman like her would never be with a man like him.
She was his polar opposite; pure, kind, without any obvious flaws. Whereas Rafe was impure, violent, and covered in issues from head to toe.. You could thank his father for that.
Rafe knew he didn’t stand a chance, so why, and when, did his obsession with her begin? Why had he caught himself following her around town, watching her every move? Why had he found a way to place a tracking device on her car, his possessive need to know where she was at all times pushing him to do such a crazy thing.
Why had he found himself beating the shit out of any man he’d seen talk to her? Why did he care so much? She didn’t even know he existed, yet, he found himself quite literally stalking her, obsessing over her, vowing to himself that he would protect her at any and all cost.
-
Rafe had continued following her for months before he had finally decided to make his move on her. He’d quickly picked up on her schedule, learned all of her favorite places to shop, eat, where she loved to do her Bible studies.
After six months of constantly following her and learning all he needed to know about her, he had decided it was finally time for him to make his move, make her his.
He was parked outside of the small coffee shop she frequented regularly, watching as she sat at a table, flipping through the pages of her notebook, taking small sips of her coffee order.
He loved that she was completely oblivious of the man who had been watching her for months, in his mind it proved that she did need him in her life, she needed him to take care of her, protect her, teach her to be more aware of her surroundings.
Rafe’s head snaps up when he sees her stand from her spot, gathering her books and pens, pushing her chair in and making her way to the front door.
He quickly hops from his truck, rushing across the street, his plan to make a move being set in motion.
She pushes the door to the coffee shop open, her head hung low as she stepped through the threshold, making it easy for Rafe to step in her way, lightly bumping her and causing her head to snap up.
“Oh, i’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention”
Her face is flushed red, her voice soft, angelic.
The corners of Rafe’s lips quirk up slightly, a small smile on his face as he looks down at her small figure.
“Not a problem, I should have said something. I’m Rafe, and you are?”
He extends his hand out for her to take, to which she quickly complies, placing her small hand in his.
He places a soft kiss to the back of her hand, her breath catching in her throat at the action. She wasn’t sure what to think of the man in front of her, she’d never been greeted like that by anyone.
“I-I’m Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N. It’s nice to meet you, Rafe”
“Y/L/N? As in Pastor Y/L/N?” Rafe asks, his eyebrow quirked up as he played his part well.
She smiles, her eyes sparkling at the mention of her father. He attends her church? Why had she never seen him before now?
“Yeah, that’s my dad! You go to our church?”
Rafe chuckles, an amused smirk laid on his lips, “Yeah, sometimes. My dad started making me go a few months ago, i’m surprised we haven’t run into each other before now”
He feels himself growing painfully hard when he hears the angelic laugh that falls from her pretty mouth, her eyes lit up as she carefully pushes a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Church not really your thing?” She asks, her lower lip brought between her teeth as she smiled up at him.
“Not really, but hey, your father sure knows how to get you into it huh?”
She shifts herself on her feet, readjusting her books in her hands, “Yeah he’s great, he loves what he does”
Rafe notices the large books in her arms, how she continues to shift and adjust them. “Want me to grab those for you?”
She glances down at the books in her arms, and back up at Rafe, his bright blue eyes making butterflies erupt in her stomach, “Uh, sure. Thanks” She smiles, handing him the books and looking toward the ground.
“You wanna ride home?”
She pauses for a moment, her mind drawing a blank as her palms became clammy. Why she was so nervous? She wasn’t sure. Maybe it was because he was making her feel things she knew was wrong, maybe it was because she knew better than to get involved with a man without her father’s permission, but something about him made her want to take the risk, break her own rules.
“Sure, that’d be nice. Thank you”
And just like that, Rafe’s plan was falling into place. He had gotten her attention, gotten her to trust him so easily. He loved how naïve she was, how innocent she was, and as much as he’d love to take it slow with her, he felt he’d taken it slow enough, waiting, watching, protecting her for months, even if she didn’t know it.
He had to have a taste of her, had to break her of her innocence, and he needed to do it now. He needed her to be his, and only his.
-
Everything had began moving quickly, Rafe had driven her to his house instead of hers, his lips finding hers in an instant, pulling her from the passenger seat and into his lap.
She was unconsciously grinding herself over his bulge, her hands running over his buzzed hair, his hands tightly gripping at her hips as his tongue explored her mouth.
Her breathing was ragged, hands trembling as she continued pressing herself into him. She wasn’t sure what she was doing or why, it was wrong, so wrong, but it felt so right.
“Rafe” she tries to speak, her words being swallowed by him. He presses his hand flat against her lower back, pushing her further into him as he continues his assault on her mouth.
She plants her palms on his chest, pushing herself back, her back pressed firmly against his steering wheel.
She runs a hand through her hair, her eyes slightly welled up with tears as she tries to calm her breathing.
“This- This is wrong. We don’t even know each other, we- I’m not supposed to have sex until I’m married, I can’t- We can’t-“
Rafe shushes her softly, his thumb running across her bottom lip as his blue eyes burn into her, “Shh, Shh. It’s okay, angel. There’s nothing wrong with this, trust me?”
She sighs, resting her head on his chest, the tears that had fallen from her eyes soaking the fabric of his shirt.
“I-I trust you, but- But this isn’t right, Rafe”
Rafe runs his hand down her side, placing it on her clothed thigh and squeezing lightly, pulling a small squeal from her lips.
“What isn’t right about it? I can teach you things, make you feel things, I promise you’ll love it”
Rafe had his mind set, he was prepared to break her, and he didn’t want to wait any longer. He knew a girl like her, so innocent, so naïve, was bound to break under the pressure.
He could tell she was curious, curious as to what it felt like to be touched by a man, to give her full self to someone, and he wanted to be that person, he needed to be that person.
He was in too deep with her, too obsessed with her. The way she looked, how angelic her voice was, the way she looked wearing clothes that hid even the most innocent parts of her body from the world. He needed her to be his, she would be his.
“C’mon sweetheart, let’s go upstairs, and I promise i’ll take good care of you. Do you trust me?”
She brings her bottom lip between her teeth, an action that was so innocent to her, but it drove Rafe crazy. He could feel the blood rush to his cock, making him grow uncomfortably hard beneath the fabric of his jeans.
She gasped when she felt his hard-on pressed into her thigh, an amused smirk playing at Rafe’s lips. “You feel that? That’s what you do to me, you’re so beautiful, let me show you just how beautiful you are. You deserve to be touched, to be made feel good. Don’t you want that?”
A simple “okay” was all she could manage to breathe out, her breath hitching in her throat when she felt him place his hands on her ass, gripping at it tightly.
“Okay what sweetheart? I need you to tell me what you want”
“I-I want you to touch me” She says softly, her voice so low it was almost a whisper, but Rafe had heard her clearly.
He quickly shoves his car door open, his free hand gripping tightly below her ass, keeping her tightly wrapped around his torso.
He gently sets her down onto her feet, shutting the truck door and grabbing her hand, pulling her to the front door of his house.
Rafe wastes no time, pulling her inside and locking the front door and dragging her to the spiral staircase that led upstairs.
Once they reached the top he pulls her into his room, shutting and locking the door. His lips instantly find hers again, the feeling of her lips against his pulling a groan from him. Her lips felt like home to him, warm, and safe- Something Rafe had never felt in his entire life.
He wraps his arms around her waist, his lips consuming hers as he pushes her back flush into his bedroom wall. He runs a hand up her side, his fingers pushing the hem of her shirt up, exposing just the slightest bit of flesh to him. He lightly grazes his fingers up the length of her side, his fingertips finding her bra.
He unclasps it in record time, running a hand up her arm and sliding one strap down her shoulder, moving to the other side and copying his actions until the flimsy fabric fell down her chest and onto his bedroom floor.
He pulls his lips from hers, his deep blue gaze on her face. He burns the image of her current state into his mind, her lips swollen and slightly parted, her chest heaving up and down as she tries to steady her breathing. He loved that he was the one who’d made her like this, loved that he was the one who had her craving more of his touch.
“You wanna take your shirt off princess?” He asks her softly, his thumb swiping across her bottom lip, his other arm still tightly wrapped around her waist.
“Y-Yes”
Rafe grins, pulling his arm from her waist and watching as she brings her hands down to the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head, tossing it to the floor. Her cheeks instantly turn a bright shade of pink, her arms flying across her chest to cover herself from him.
He lifts his hands, placing them gently on her arms and pulling them down. “No don’t hide princess, you want me to see you. And you’re so beautiful”
She nods her head slowly, letting her arms fall to her sides. She felt her entire body heat up under Rafe’s stare, his eyes erratically scanning across her chest.
He swipes his tongue across his bottom lip, bringing his hands up to softly cup her bare breasts in his palms.
“Such a pretty girl, aren’t you?”
He begins softly massaging her breasts in his hands, his fingers finding her nipples, pinching and pulling at them. He loved the expression that took over her face when he began playing with her sensitive buds, her lips parted, eyes squeezed shut as she panted.
“Doesn’t that feel good, baby?”
“Y-Yes. Feels- Feels so good, Rafe”
Rafe hums in appreciation, dipping his head down to lick a stripe across both her breasts. She gasps loudly, her head falling back against the wall when he wraps his lips around one of the buds, sucking on it lightly before switching to the other side.
Her hands fly to the back of his head, nails lightly scratching through his buzzed hair. She lets soft moans fall from her lips, and Rafe swore he’d never heard anything so beautiful, so angelic. She was going to be the death of him.
He lets his hands fall, finding her waist and lightly tapping at her thigh, “Jump” he instructs, and she’s quick to obey, straddling him instantly.
Rafe carries her to his bed, letting her fall onto the soft mattress with a soft thud.
He climbs himself on top of her, his arms caging her into the bed. He steadies himself with one hand flat on the mattress, his free hand running up her side, a trail of goosebumps left behind on her skin from his fingertips. He cups her cheek softly, lightly rubbing his thumb across it.
“You want me to take your jeans off? Make you feel good?” Rafe asks, but he gives her no time to answer, his hand being removed from her cheek and finding the button on her jeans.
He swiftly undoes the button, pulling her zipper down slowly before he begins sliding the denim fabric down her legs.
Rafe sucks in a sharp breath when he sees her lacy white panties, an innocent girl like her wearing something like this?
“Fuck”
She blushes at his vulgar words, her breathing shaky as his fingers play with the waistband of her panties.
She lets out a shaky breath when his fingers push down into the front of her underwear, his fingers brushing against her clit, making her hips buck forward from the sensation.
“Rafe” She breathes out, her fingers tightly gripping at his bedding.
“You okay sweetheart?”
“We- We shouldn’t, oh!”
She tries to protest, tries to keep her faith and do as she knows she’s supposed to, but Rafe wasn’t having it. He runs his middle finger through her slick folds, pulling his hand from inside her panties and shoving the digit in his mouth.
He hums in appreciation, the taste of her on his tongue making the blood rush to his already painfully hard and throbbing cock.
“You’re so wet, so sweet. You know this is what you want, isn’t it baby?”
She feels the tears welling up in her eyes, letting a few stray tears fall. Did she want this? She didn’t understand what she was feeling, why she was aroused. She’d never felt like this before. Rafe had her mind racing, she did want this, she knew it was wrong, knew her father would be so disappointed in her, but why deny herself of this feeling when it felt right? Felt good.
She nods her head in response, pulling a small smile from Rafe’s lips. He tugs at her panties, pulling them down her legs and shoving them into the back pocket of his jeans.
He cups her bare cunt, his palm pressing firmly against her clit, making her whimper and squirm beneath his touch.
“You can move baby, make yourself feel good”
She whimpers, moving her hips and grinding herself against his hand. Rafe takes his free hand, his ringed fingers pressing into her thigh as he held her open for him. He removes his hand from her pussy, running a finger through her slick again, gathering her arousal on the digit before he slowly pushes it into her.
“Oh, Oh God!” She cries out, her back arching off the bed, pushing his finger further into her.
“God isn’t here sweetheart, it’s just you and me”
He begins slowly pushing his finger in and out of her soaked core, her velvety walls clenching around his finger. He curls his finger, hitting a spot inside her that had her toes curling.
“I-I, Oh Rafe”
Rafe smirks, adding another finger inside her. He quickens his pace, pushing them in and out harshly. She’s a whimpering mess, her orgasm so close he could feel it from how she was clenching around him.
“You can cum, it’s okay sweetheart, let it out”
She feels a burn between her legs, her belly growing tight as a feeling she’d never felt washes over her. She’s trembling beneath him, legs shaking, fists tightly wrapped around the fabric of his blanket as Rafe helped fuck her through her high.
When he pulls his fingers from her she lets out a small whimper, her body laying limp on his mattress, chest heaving up and down as she comes down from her orgasm.
“See that wasn’t so bad was it?” Rafe asks.
She sucks in a shaky breath, shaking her head. “N-No. Not bad. I’ve never… You know..”
Rafe quirks an eyebrow up at her, that damned amused smirk on his lips. “You’ve never had an orgasm before? I knew that sweetheart”
She hides her face in her hands, body heating up from embarrassment.
Rafe’s hands fly to hers, slowly pulling them down, his free hand rubbing softly across her cheek.
“Don’t hide, it’s okay. I want to teach you, I want you to feel comfortable with me, don’t you feel comfortable with me baby?”
She lets out a deep sigh, “Yes, I-I’m comfortable”
He grins, satisfied that he’d gotten her comfortable with him. He sits himself up on his knees, undoing his belt and tossing it to the floor.
“Do you wanna make me feel good sweet girl?”
She bites at her bottom lip, watching as he undoes the button on his pants followed by his zipper, the fabric sliding down his legs and leaving him in nothing but his underwear and his polo.
“Yes, I wanna make you feel good, teach me?”
Rafe brings his hand up to cup her cheek, his thumb sliding across her bottom lip, sliding the digit past her parted lips.
She wraps her lips around his thumb, giving it a light suck, a raspy groan falling from Rafe at the feeling.
“Fuck you’re so beautiful, gonna be such a good girl f’me, make me feel good, yeah?”
He pulls his thumb from her lips, sliding his briefs down his legs, his erection springing free and slapping just below his belly button. He notices the wide eyed expression on her face, her lips parted in a small ‘o’ as she stared at him.
“It’s okay baby, don’t be scared”
Rafe firmly grasps at his cock, pumping at it slowly, his free hand coming to the back of her head as he helped guide her down. “Put your lips on it baby, I got you”
She does as he says, her lips wrapping around the head first lightly sucking at his swollen tip. Rafe’s grip tightens in her hair, his hips bucking forward.
“Good girl, swirl your tongue around it a little, pretend it’s a popsicle or a lollipop”
She obeys, swirling her tongue around him, the precum that leaked from his tip making its way onto her tongue. She hums around him, the salty taste making her grow wet again.
Rafe slowly pushes himself further into her mouth, his breathing erratic as she takes him fully.
Her teeth graze at his shaft, making him jump back from the pain. “No teeth baby, hollow your cheeks and just move your head up and down slowly”
Her cheeks hollow, her head moving slowly up and down his length, small gags and whimpers falling from her with each push and pull, his head hitting the back of her throat with each push.
Rafe inhales deeply through his nose, his head thrown back in pleasure as she continues to suck and lick every last inch of him.
“Such a good fucking girl”
She feels herself grow wet from his praise, the ache between her thighs back, the craving for more of his touch growing with each passing second.
He tightly grips her hair when he feels himself twitching inside her mouth, pulling her off of him, her cheeks and chin stained with drool.
“Wanna cum inside you, do you want that? Want me to fill your pretty pussy up with my cum?”
She nods her head slowly, laying herself back and spreading her legs for him.
Rafe smiles widely, the innocence that once radiated from her now gone, and all because of him.
He pulls his polo over his head, discarding it on the floor and leaning himself down. He uses one hand to steady himself up, his other hand pumping at his cock and lining himself with her slick entrance.
“Gonna go slow okay? If it hurts, let me know and i’ll let you take a minute to breathe”
She opens her mouth to speak but nothing comes out except a small whine, the feel of his fat head pushing into her small hole sending a burn through her legs.
Rafe softly shushes her, “Shhh, it’s okay i’m gonna take care of you, alright?”
She blinks away her tears, nodding her head and sucking in a sharp breath. Rafe slowly pushes himself in more, using one hand to lightly stroke her cheek, trying to help her calm her breathing.
He pushes himself inside her fully, stilling his movements and trying to let her adjust to his size. She lets out a soft breath, her hands flying to his shoulders, fingernails digging into the flesh.
“Can I move princess?”
“Yes, please”
Rafe begins to slowly thrust himself inside her, small moans and whimpers falling from her as she begins to rock her hips with his.
“You’re doing so good, my good girl”
She’s a whining mess, the pain replaced with pleasure making her toes curl, her head thrown back into the pillows as she focuses on the feel of each push and pull Rafe makes.
“Not gonna last long with you squeezin’ me like that sweetheart, you feel yourself squeezin’ me? Your pussy begging to be filled with my cum”
She lets out a whine, her bottom lip harshly brought between her teeth as she felt her second orgasm approaching.
“I-I think i’m close” she cries out, her hips bucking up and meeting each of his thrusts.
“Let go for me angel, i’m right behind you”
She clamps down around him, squeezing him tightly and sucking him further into her. His head repeatedly hits at her sweet spot, making her a whimpering, moaning mess.
“Gonna fill you up, give you my babies, don’t you want that baby?”
“Yes! Want you babies, wanna be a mama, please please”
She screams out a moan, her release bursting from her. She was trembling, tears staining her cheeks as Rafe fucked her through her high.
Rafe feels his thrusts grow sloppy, his hips stuttering as he twitches inside her. He pushes himself to the hilt, stilling inside her as the hot ropes of his release spill inside of her.
He lets his head dip down, his face falling into the crook of her neck, his lips attacking the skin with hot kisses.
He pulls himself from inside her, rolling onto his side and wrapping his arms around her. He pulls her further into his body, snuggling further into her and breathing in her scent.
“I’m so happy you’re mine now, all mine”
She smiles softly, her eyes drooping as she begins to breathe softly, sleep taking over her.
She wasn’t sure what she would tell her father, or how this would change her life, but she didn’t care. All that mattered to her now was the man who had just completely changed her life, and how she was his, and he was hers.
RAFE TAGLIST: @whore-4-drewstarkey @ivy-34 @rafeism @thelomlisrafecameron @rafegirly @f4ll-for-you @drewstarkeyslut @starkeypankowsbae @lizcameron @m-1234 @dilvcv @thewitchesofart @rafesgfxo @unsaidjaelinrose @abbybarnesstuff @itsmytimetoodream @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @r1vrsefx @alexisbaumann2004 @yourfavborderhopper @moremaybank @mel119g @rafetopia @rafemotherfuckingcameron @jade-is-jaded @jjmaybankisbae @lexasaurs634 @softlilacarrest @fayerite @exhaustedbutelated @lyndys @urmyslxt @presleyanswrites @sierraluvz @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols @oceandriveab
moodboard | rafe masterlist | taglist
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#obx smut#obx#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron fanfiction#obx rafe cameron#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fic#dark!rafe cameron#soft!dom!rafe#rafe smut#rafe cameron brainrot#rafe fanfiction#rafe x reader#rafe x you#rafe fic
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your purity is precious ! charlie mayhew.
father charlie mayhew who just can’t keep his filthy hands off you during private bible study lessons.
you’re sat on his lap. you two are just that close, there’s nothing abnormal about this. “father, you—you know a lot about this stuff,” you say, his fingers trailing toward your poor cunt, all wet and puffy under your panties. practically begging to be touched. “y-you’re very smart, father.” just give in, what’s so hard about it?
but you can’t.
his other one squeezes and kneads your soft, shapely breasts, fitting ever so perfectly in his rough and calloused hand. “you know,” he sighs in your ear, bulge pushing up against your plush ass, “your father never mentioned how beautiful you were, did he?” you hesitantly shake your head as he hooks his finger onto your panties and pulls them to the side.
your lips part with a soft gasp as he drags his finger up your warmth, slickness spreading across your delicate parts.
he leaned in closer, lowering his voice even more. “have you given your innocence away yet?” his breath was hot on your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
the question catches you off guard, of course, you haven’t, that’d be disgusting. no man would ever look at—let alone marry a woman without her virginity, especially in your town.
“no, father, i—i’m waiting until marriage. i’m still pure,” you whisper.
he groans and softly pushes up against your ass. so pure, you are. you follow the word.
you’re clean.
“good girl, keep it that way. your purity is precious. remember that.” he says in your ear, breath still warm against your skin, making you softly grind down on his fingers.
“i will,” you repeat in your head, that saying. my purity is precious, my purity is precious, my purity is precious.
his thick middle finger circles your tight hole before slipping in slowly, you wince and bite your full lip, stifling a loud cry. he grins sadistically. a small amount of blood coats his finger, he runs his tongue over his lip in response.
“and you haven’t,” he pushes his finger in more, focusing on that spongy spot within, “touched yourself?” he felt a stirring in his pants, his thick cock straining against his slacks, begging to be let out.
you tell him you haven’t; it’s mostly true. though one time you got a bit carried away with your pillow.
his grin widened mischievously. "you mean to tell me that beautiful, untouched body of yours is... a virgin in every sense?" his hand on your breast slowly started to caress it again, his touch gentle yet so… perverse.
it’s like he was hungry.
“yes, f-father.” your legs trembled slightly as he dug deep inside of your warm, inviting hole, so soft and tight. the priests' voice grew husky as he spoke, "you know, my child... when i was your age, i couldn't keep my hands off myself. i'd touch myself every chance i got, in the shower, under the desk at school... sometimes even at church."
he speaks as if he doesn’t still touch himself every single night.
his finger curls inside you, and an involuntary whine escapes your lips. your clit felt all fuzzy, and your tummy tightened as you slowly began to move your hips back and forth on his finger, blood prickling on your lip from the pressure of your teeth.
“that’s it. riiight there, take it all, my child. make yourself feel good,” his voice completely shifted, so smooth and still so low.
he pulled out of you quickly, bringing his sticky fingers to his mouth and sucking them disgustingly. his eyes rolled back while he did, and you felt his fat cock throb through his pants as he tasted your sweet nectar, with a hint of a metallic taste. your virgin blood.
his focus slowly turned back to you, and he slipped his finger back in without a word, just groans and sighs filling the room. “my child, you—you are… the most precious thing,” your cunt tightens around his finger, telling him you were inching closer to release.
the feeling in your puffy, red clit was so overwhelming, heat reaching every part of your body in a matter of seconds. another hand comes and touches it, rubbing and pushing down on it as tears begin brimming your eyes while you cry loudly, legs shaking uncontrollably at this point.
your vision began to blur as you felt your tummy release the knot it’d been tightening since he’d started touching you. “oh, father! i can’t—i…” you went numb completely, thrashing as your sticky juices flowed out of your, now, used hole. your moans were obnoxiously loud, you’d let go all over your poor priest.
he didn’t stop there though, rubbing and bucking his hips against your soft ass until he gets what he’s been wanting for ages. he pushes his hips up against you one more time before whimpering softly and groaning, breathing warmly against you.
you both sat there for a minute, dazed and coming to your senses before he urged you to make yourself decent and ushered you out of his room, leaving you with familiar words.
“your purity is so precious, my child.”
#charlie mayhew#father charlie mayhew#father charlie x reader#father charlie smut#father charlie grotesquerie#grotesquerie#charlie mayhew smut#charlie mayhew x reader#father mayhew#father charlie mayhew x reader#father charlie#nicholas alexander chavez#x reader#smut#nicholas chavez#lana del rey#fem reader#kinktober#female reader#diorchids#writing#grotesquerie smut#grotesquerie fx#lois tryon#micaela diamond#sister megan duval#relatable#he is so fucking hot#needthat
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an old love
overview : father charlie mayhew reunites with an old lover he was head over heels for before he began his journey into priesthood.
pairing : father charlie mayhew x fem!reader
word count : 1152 (and it’s still ASS)
a/n : this is my first fic so please excuse.. everything… while i try to figure it all out! xx
it was an early sunday evening when father mayhew was interrupted while planning his next sermon. the doors to the church pushed open, the loud hinges and heaviness of the door stirring him from his concentration.
father mayhew looked up from his altar to the entrance of the church, not necessarily surprised to have someone else join him in the holy place, but startled nonetheless by the sudden intrusion.
a frazzled young woman stumbled in, her wide eyes looking around to the tall pristine ceilings and stained glass windows before settling on father mayhew’s tall figure on the stage.
though a sin, father charlie swore his heart stopped beating when his eyes finally settled on the woman in his church. could it really be? no… no, it’s not possible.
“charlie?”
charlie’s eyes widened beyond belief, definitely sure this time that his heart stopped beating. “Y/N..? is that.. you?” his voice was breathless, rough with disbelief.
“oh, charlie,” you beamed, quick steps scurrying over to the altar, stopping short before the steps. “i’m so glad to see you..” your eyes raked over his attire, “oh! i’m sorry, father charlie.”
frozen, charlie just stared at you before he somehow got the courage to say something. “Y/N.. what are you doing here? it’s been..” he trailed off, not wanting to say how long it had been since he’d seen the woman he fell in love with.
“forever?” you finished for him,
“yea, forever,” he gulped, slowly moving from behind the altar to descend the steps. his eyes never left your frame.
your gaze followed him as he made his way toward you. the closer he got, the faster his heart beat. is it about to come up his throat?
“i’m sorry to barge in on you like this it’s just that i got word that you were here and had to see for myself,” you softly smiled. how are you smiling right now? how are you not in complete and utter pain like he is?
charlie just blinked, finally in front of you now.
“right, i have to explain myself, god, oh! GOSH,” you corrected yourself, hand over your mouth. “i’m so sorry, i’m an idiot.”
this finally made charlie’s face lighten up, you hadn’t changed at all. “it’s okay, Y/N, really,” he felt his lips tug upward. you were still the cutest thing in the entire world.
you just blushed, embarrassed. “i.. i just finished my degree abroad, you know...? anyway, when i got back home my dad said that you were a priest now and i… well, i had to see you. couldn’t believe it.”
charlie raised a brow, “how come?”
you clasped your hands in front of you, “nothing, really, i just always envisioned you to be out of this old little town.. traveling.. doing whatever your heart desired. like you said you would…” your gaze flicked to the floor, your shoes suddenly very interesting.
charlie hummed, “no, i couldn’t leave this place.. trust me, i tried.” charlie’s gaze suddenly turned to a dim one. a dark, glum cloud seemed to hover over his head.
you raised your head at that, eyes locking with charlie’s once more. you opened your mouth for a moment before abruptly closing it. you contemplated for a moment before forcing a smile on your face.
“well i’m just happy to see you, charlie” your eyes flickered over his face, almost as if you were trying to imprint the image of him in your mind so you would always have it.
charlie didn’t say anything at that. he opened his mouth just to close it, too. he shook his head slightly, hand coming to comb through his hair.
“are you sure?” he clenched his jaw.
your eyes widened at that, flinching at his brazenness. “of course i am, charlie..” your hand moved to his arm before hesitating, tucking your hands behind your back in tight fists.
charlie saw this, his jaw clenching even tighter, he was sure his teeth would fall out. “i’m sorry it’s just hard to believe when i’ve been here the whole time.”
“charlie..”
“no, Y/N, what are you doing here? really?” his tone became defensive, building a wall around his heart right in front of the woman who helped him tear it down all those years ago.
you didn’t say anything, eyes wide looking up at him.
“i never left, Y/N.. i never left…” his voice was barely above a whisper, eyes hardened in faux credence.
your lower lip quivered, looking away.
“i’m sorry.”
“for what? for abandoning us? or for never coming back?” charlie bit out. according to his beliefs, charlie should forgive, but something inside him still ached from when you left, it wasn’t that easy.
“everything, charlie.. everything.” your eyes were glistening with tears when you looked back into his. charlie’s heart sped up at the sight, hand itching to take your face in his palms.
as the first sob of yours was let out, charlie couldn’t stop himself, pulling you into his arms and into his warm chest.
“shh, shh, baby.. don’t cry.” his hand caressed the back of your head and neck, head coming to rest atop of yours.
your heart clenched in your chest. “i’m so sorry, charlie.” the words were slightly muffled against his chest, but he knew what you said.
palms coming to cup your cheeks, he wiped your tears with his thumbs, eyes locked on your red and watery ones. “shh, it’s okay..”
you shook your head, “no, it’s not.”
charlie’s eyes softened even more, if that was possible, “sweetheart… come here.” he brought you back into his arms for another embrace.
“missed you so much, charlie, i just.. i couldn’t face you after what happened. please. you knew i missed you, didn’t you?” you raised your face from his chest, neck craning up to look into his eyes.
“well, i do now…” his ring covered hand came to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “just wish you came back sooner.”
your eyebrows crinkled up again, “i know, i’m sorry i just thought you hated me and i couldn’t bring myself to face you.”
charlie brought his forehead to yours, “oh, sweetheart, i could never hate you..” his palm caressed your cheek. you leaned into his touch, releasing a heavy breath.
the two of you stayed like that for a while, the silence of the church engulfing you, making it seem as though you were the only people in the world.
charlie broke the silence first, eyes soft looking down at you, “what do you say we get something to eat? that diner is still open, and you can tell me everything..”
you softly smiled, sniffling, “i’d like that a lot.”
with your arm locked in charlie’s as he led you out the church doors, he realized something:
a million years could go by without seeing or hearing from you, but his connection and devotion to you will never falter. ever.
so… that’s it! im so sorry the ending is so rushed and just. bad? im sure grammar and the present and past tense verbiage was annoying asf pls forgive me :,,) im new to writing (writing my own stories i mean) and am open to criticism! constructive pls..
#nicholas alexander chavez#nicholas chavez#nicholas chavez x reader#nicholas alexander chavez x reader#charlie mayhew#charlie mayhew x reader#father charlie x reader#first fic
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MDNI
One thing is for certain: your apartment was empty when you left for the grocery store, apart from the cats. Everything was in its place, untouched, unbothered.
So why, when you come back from the store with two armfuls of groceries, is every single throw pillow on the floor instead of the couch? Why, then, is your laundry basket tipped over with random articles of clothing thrown all over the house—and why are your cats pawing at your bedroom door, meowing to get in? Truthfully, you’re terrified. Nobody, aside from your landlord, has access to your apartment; and anyway, she’s on vacation.
Really, you shouldn’t be surprised to find your ex-boyfriend, Johnny, in your room. Of course the crazy fucker would still have his spare key. What you are surprised to find, though, is said ex-boyfriend completely naked and going to town on himself—feet flat on the floor as he bounces on what you soon realize is your favorite dildo, jerking his leaking cock with a pair of your panties wrapped around it. Your eye twitches—so that’s why your hamper was in disarray.
From the looks of it, he’s been going at it for a while, stupid fucking mohawk all tussled and partially stuck to his sweaty forehead. To your dismay, his eyes land right on your figure in the doorframe—but instead of being ashamed or even the slightest bit remorseful for his literal criminal actions, he just smirks, holding out his free hand towards you.
“Gonna join me, hen, or jus’ watch like a fookin’ perv?”
#ex bf johnny makes me- *bleating goat noises*#call of duty#cod#cod mw2#johnny soap mactavish#soap x reader#john mactavish x fem!reader#female reader#johnny mactavish smut
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KISS ME MORE | PARK SUNGHOON
summary: freshman year is just around the corner, and you still haven’t had your first kiss, so who better to ask for help than your best friend?
word count: 3.2k
MINORS DNI!!
warnings (18+): smut. fluff (just a smidge). kissing. swearing. oral (f. receiving). fingering (f. recieving).
A/N: this was literally just an excuse to write the ‘teach me’ trope im currently obsessed with lmfao. decided to return with another short fic while a longer one is currently in the works!
Your saturday was lazily drawing to a close, the amber light of the late afternoon bathing your room in a rich, golden hue as it filtered through the sheer curtains. Sunbeams danced across the floor, casting long, dappled shadows that shifted gently in time with the breeze from your fan, its low hum blending with the quiet outside. The heat of the day still lingered, but your room felt cool—a refuge from the summer heat beyond the window.
You and Sunghoon spent another day in the slow, unhurried rhythm of summer break. You had wandered through quaint little shops in town, indulging in some ice cream from your favourite parlour—before ending the day by hanging back at your place.
Soft, flickering light from the television illuminated the room, casting faint shadows over the cozy disarray of blankets and pillows on your bed.
The movie playing was one of your favourites—a classic romance that you knew almost every line to. Your gaze was fixed on the screen, eyes wide and captivated, but Sunghoon seemed content to only half-watch. His attention was mostly absorbed in a book he had got from one the thrift shops you’d visited a while ago, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he read quietly.
Sunghoon lay sprawled beside you, completely at ease, the quiet shuffling of his turning pages blending in with the murmur of the movie’s dialogue as the two of you comfortably sat in silence.
Every now and then, Sunghoon would glance up from his book, watching you for a moment with a fond, almost amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He silently chuckled at how deeply you were invested in the story, even though he knew you had seen it more times than you could count.
As the movie played on, the flickering shots of the couple lost in passionate kisses filled the screen, but your mind was elsewhere. Each romantic scene tugged at a part of you, stirring feelings of uncertainty that you tried to brush away.
The effortless intimacy the characters exchanged seemed so foreign and so far removed from your own experiences. A soft sigh escaped your lips as you shifted slightly on the bed, that weird feeling in your chest only returning.
Fall was approaching, and the thought of starting college without ever having kissed had been gnawing at you. You were always the one admired from a distance—some guys flirted but that was all they did. The real experiences, the ones you saw in movies and tv shows still remained an elusive mystery.
It felt like you were missing some crucial part of your youth, something that was supposed to happen naturally, yet it hadn’t.
In the locker room, when your friends would share their stories about their latest flings or kisses, you’d smile, laugh along, but inside you’d cringe, hoping no one asked about your own love life. It was your secret, the thing that made you feel out of place despite how perfect you seemed to everyone else.
Then, there was Sunghoon.
You glanced at him, your best friend, lying beside you with a cute focused expression etched into his features. He didn’t talk much about his romantic escapades, but you’d heard enough to know he wasn’t inexperienced.
Sometimes you’d catch a glimpse of faint hickeys on his neck or the way girls would glance at him. It left you with a strange feeling, one you couldn’t quite name…was it jealousy? Insecurity? Maybe both. You felt your face heat up, embarrassed by how much it bothered you.
As another kiss scene plays out on the screen, your gaze flickers back to the couple. You bit your lip, the pang of longing growing sharper. What did it feel like? To be kissed—or to have someone look at you like you were their whole world, if only for a second?
The thought of entering college without knowing something so simple yet so intimate made you feel…painfully awkward.
You tried to focus on the movie, but the thoughts kept circling back, louder and louder. The movie no longer held your interest, and the weight of your unspoken feelings became too much.
Unable to shake the feeling, you sat up as your mind ran on impulsivity. The movie played on, but you no longer cared about the plot or the characters. All you could think about was the current problem you had and the one person who would listen to you.
You shifted on the bed, turning to him. “Sunghoon." you murmured, your voice softer than usual.
He responded with a low, distracted hum, barely lifting his gaze. One hand rested on his chin, finger grazing his bottom lip in a way that drew attention to the curve of his mouth, while his eyes flicked over the pages with slow, deliberate focus.
"How does…kissing feel?"
That got his attention. Sunghoon’s eyes snapped up from the book, the words clearly catching him off guard. He pushed his glasses up with one hand, studying you with a mix of curiosity and amusement. “What are you on about now?”
You cringed at how juvenile your question sounded now, already hesitating, “I…” your face flushed with a mix of embarrassment, “I haven’t…kissed anyone before. And with college coming up, I just feel…I don’t know…insecure.”
Sunghoon’s brow furrowed in genuine confusion. “Wait, you’ve never kissed anyone?”
You rolled your eyes, “Okay, Mr. Midfielder. I’m not like you, alright? It’s not like I’ve had tons of people drooling over me.”
A soft laugh escaped him as he sat up, expression softening. “No (Y/N), it’s just hard to believe.” he said, a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re… like, insanely pretty.”
Sunghoon’s words sent a little flutter in your stomach—but you brushed it off, chalking it up to him just being nice.
“Of course, you would say that,” you muttered, playfully shoving his shoulder.
“I’m serious,” Sunghoon insisted lightly, catching your wrist, gently lowering your hand. His eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, you couldn’t look away.
There was something in the way he looked at you making your heart race, your breath catching in your throat. You tore your gaze away, suddenly feeling exposed under the weight of his attention. “This is stupid,” you mumbled with a wry laugh, already regretting bringing it up.
But Sunghoon wasn’t letting it go. He muttered your name softly, his voice coaxing you to meet his eyes again. He reached out, his fingers gently tilting your chin up until your gaze locked with his once more.
His touch was soft, barely there, but it made your cheeks warm. “It’s not stupid,” he murmured, his eyes searching for yours. “It’s okay to be new to things. Everyone is at some point.”
“Yeah, I guess,” you muttered, staring at the comforter as if the intricate embroidery held the answers to everything swirling in your head.
Sunghoon watched you intently, his heart aching at the sight of your lips forming a soft pout and your expression so full of uncertainty. How was it possible that you had never been kissed?
He couldn't understand it, and yet, the thought of you being with someone else, experiencing that first kiss with someone who didn’t know you like he did—it twisted something in his chest.
Sunghoon would kiss you in a heartbeat if given the chance, but after ages of trying to ignore his feelings—of pushing aside how much he actually wanted you, he wasn’t sure he could handle it without letting everything else spill out.
His hand was still holding yours, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles over your skin, and for a moment, the touch seemed to blur the lines of just simple camaraderie. The warmth of it messed with your thoughts, and before you could second-guess yourself, the words tumbled out.
“Well, you’ve done it before, right? You could, I don’t know… teach me.”
“What?” Sunghoon froze, his breath catching in his throat, his eyes wide with surprise. His voice dropped an octave,“you’re asking me to… kiss you?”
You nodded, scooting just a little closer, close enough to feel the faint warmth of his body against yours. “Come on, Hoon. We’re best friends. It’s not like it would… mean anything.”
Even as you said it, you couldn’t really believe the words yourself. There was an undercurrent, a dull gut feeling, that told you it wouldn’t feel like practice.
To you, maybe. The thought tore through Sunghoon’s mind.
He ran a hand through his hair, messing up his bangs as he tried to think. For the first time in a long while, he seemed genuinely flustered, “I don’t know, (Y/N).”
His voice was thick as he swallowed, cheeks slowly turning pink. “That’s not exactly something you just… teach.”
“It’s just a kiss. I just wanna know what I’m doing when I eventually have to kiss someone for real.”
Sunghoon’s gaze flickered, his eyes betraying more than he wanted to show. For a split second, his eyes darted to your glossed lips, his breath hitching as he quickly looked away.
He pushed his glasses up again, licking his lips as he huffed. “This is a bad idea,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.
“Why?” You asked, the plea in your voice betraying your own feelings. “It’s just one kiss, Hoon.”
Right?
You tried to keep it light, casual, like it didn’t matter. Like it was just a small favour between friends. But inside, your heart hammered against your chest, your skin felt flushed, and the air between you both had clearly shifted.
The way Sunghoon was looking at you now, though, like he was really considering it—like he was seeing you in a way he’d never let himself see before—it was almost too much.
“Are you… sure?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper, as if speaking too loud would shatter the moment.
Your fingers brushed against his knee, lingering for just a second longer, “I mean, it would just be practice.” You stated, but underneath it all, your heart skipped a beat, a buzz coursing through your veins as you looked back at him.
Sunghoon’s resolve crumbled at the feeling of your hand on his knee. How could he say no to you when you looked at him like that—those wide, pleading eyes making it impossible to refuse?
He swallowed hard, his breath shaky. “Just… a practice thing,” he muttered, his eyes flickering between your gaze and your lips, fighting the gravitational pull on them.
“Yeah,” You muttered quietly, reaching up to remove the wire rimmed glasses from his face and placing them on your bedside table before glancing back at him.
Sunghoon’s hand moved up, threading through your hair before gently brushing it away from your face, his touch slow, deliberate.
His thumb traced the edge of your cheek, pausing to brush against your bottom lip in a way that sent a shiver through you. The touch was soft, almost hesitant, but it ignited something deep inside you, making your breath hitch.
Your stomach fluttered as you met his intense gaze, his dark eyes trained on your lips. He leaned in closer, close enough that you could feel his breath fanning lightly over your skin, teasing, heightening the anticipation.
Sunghoon’s lips hovered over yours, just barely ghosting against them, brushing so softly that it made you ache for more.
Unable to resist the pull any longer, you closed the distance, pressing your lips gently against his. The kiss started soft, tentative, your body hyper-aware of every detail—the warmth of his breath, the way his lips responded immediately, moulding into yours with an eagerness that surprised you.
Oh.
You pulled away for the briefest moment, eyes flickering down to his lips, your heart pounding through your ears. Without a second thought, you leaned in again, this time a lot bolder, your hand finding the side of his face.
Sunghoon didn’t hesitate. He kissed back within a heartbeat, a soft sigh escaping his lips that sent a rush of warmth to the pit of your stomach. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you against his chest, the space between you vanishing as your bodies pressed together.
Your fingers slipped into his hair, the soft strands curling around your fingertips as you tugged on them softly, his soft groans between kisses making your pulse race.
Sunghoon’s lips were firmer this time, more needier with every kiss, sending a rush of heat through your body as his grip on your waist tightened.
You softly fell back into the bed as he hovered over you, his tongue tracing your bottom lip before you parted your lips a little more, a low groan rumbling through his chest as he licked into your mouth.
Your hands slowly drifted down Sunghoon’s body, slipping beneath the thin fabric of his shirt to trace the contours of his torso, his breathy moans travelling straight to your core.
“Fuck.” He rasped, pulling away, “maybe we should stop.” Sunghoon’s eyes were glazed over, lips were swollen and tainted with your lip gloss, “I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself (Y/N).”
“Then don’t.” You rushed, breathless and wasting no time kissing him again, an unmistakable moan leaving Sunghoon’s chest as he kissed back desperately.
He pulled away—already missing the feeling of his lips on yours before they moved to your jaw, trailing soft sloppy kisses that travelled down to your neck, the feathery feeling creating a dull ache between your thighs.
Your sighs of pleasure almost bordered on moans as he gently sucked your delicate skin—pink and purple marks blooming on your skin, recklessly marking you from your neck to your collarbone.
Sunghoon’s hand drifted over the small of your back, sliding over to find their place on your ass squeezing the soft flesh with a lewd groan—an involuntary moan slipping past your lips at the feeling, tugging his hair.
Everything had your mind spiralling. Sunghoon’s lips were on your neck, his hand roaming every inch of your body.
You’d be lying if you said you didn't want more—craved more.
He trailed wet kisses along your chest, lifting your shirt to press a few more along your stomach, revelling in the way you leaned into his touch, your soft whines and sighs driving him up the wall.
You admired the way Sunghoon looked when he glanced up at you with his eyes, weaving your fingers through his already dishevelled hair, moving to his face and caressing his rosy cheeks.
Sunghoon’s fingers finally met the waistband of your shorts, lifting your hips up as quickly pulling the layer of clothing away, “fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He hissed, running his hands up and down your thighs.
His other hand brushed over your underwear, groaning at the sight. His finger traced over your wetness on the silky fabric, and you leaned into his touch, with the most beautiful moan he’d ever heard.
“Fuck baby, you’re so wet.” Sunghoon groans as his thumb taps at your clothed clit, clenching around nothing at the mention of the pet name he’d just given you.
He kissed your thigh, hooking his finger into your underwear and sliding the damp pink fabric down your legs, almost moaning at the sight of your dripping cunt.
Sunghoon lifts your leg and holds it over his shoulder, swiping his tongue over his thumb before meeting your clit and your head falls back, “Hoon, fuck.” You moaned, grabbing at your sheets.
“Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” Sunghoon says softly, and you nod—watching him dip below your thighs, lips move to your clit and sucking on it gently.
You never fathomed anything would feel this good. Sure, you’d touched yourself a couple of times, but nothing could beat the feeling being eaten out.
You cry, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his tongue dipping into your folds, letting his thumb swirl around your bundle of nerves while his tongue enters your core, moaning into your entrance.
The vibrations from his moans sent shockwaves up your spine, head tipping back in from the sensation with a broken cry, legs attempting to fly shut but he pushed them apart with a sound of disapproval.
His tongue swiped upwards, and his eyes fluttered closed at the taste of your arousal, reveling in the insanely beautiful moans that tumbled from your lips.
Your hands weaved into his hair, tugging the soft strands as you shamelessly bucked into his mouth with broken whimpers.
Sunghooon held you firmly against the sheets to stop you from squirming, unable to stay still from the feeling of his nose causing friction on your clit as he lapped at your pussy.
Your eyes peer over at him and the pornographic sight of him buried between your thighs makes your cheeks burn. When his hand moves from your thigh you don't think much of it, until you feel his fingers circle your entrance.
Sunghoon pulls away from you, just in time to watch your plump lips fall open when he easily slides his fingers into your dripping core.
“You have know idea how good you look baby.” He panted, plump lips covered in your arousal biting his lip at sight in front him, completely enamored by your fucked out expressions.
Sunghoon’s fingers curl inside of you and they brush over your sweet spot, your mouth opening in a broken moan.
“F-feels so good, Hoon” you mewl breathlessly, grabbing his free arm as you bucked into his fingers, pumping them into you at a perfect speed.
You cheeks flushed furiously at the sounds of his fingers fucking your sopping wet core, broken raspy moans leaving your chest as his lips pressed kisses to your overstimulated clit—your mind a scrambled mess.
All you could think about was the pleasure that was currently surging throughout your entire body, making your toes curl and your head dizzy. A few whines and broken moans was enough to tell Sunghoon you were close, furiously clenching around his fingers as you begged him not to stop.
“That’s it baby, come for me.” He coaxed, his voice raspy and breathy, moaning at the sight of his fingers easily slipping in and out of you.
Your body jerked forward and your hand flew to his arm, blunt nails digging into his skin as you let out a whimper, back arching as his name tumbled past your lips in high pitched moans.
You were almost embarrassed by how fast Sunghoon made you come, mind clouded and hazy as he continued pumping his fingers, your walls clenching around his digits as he fucked out your high.
He pulled away shortly after, fingers slipping out of your entrance and placing a gentle kiss to your inner thigh.
You watched the messy haired brunette suck his fingers into his mouth, eyes closed and moaning at the taste of you—before you leaned over, softly grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him to your mouth for a kiss, lightly tasting yourself on his tongue.
"So we both agree that this wasn't just practice, right?" He mutters against your lips and you laugh, still dazed and high from the aftermath of your orgasm.
"Yeah, I don't think I wanna do this with anyone else. You're my only option, Park." His smile grows and he pecks your lips again.
#enhypen#enhypen x reader#enhypen smut#park sunghoon x reader#park sunghoon smut#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon smut#best friends#lovers#kpop smut#smut
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I know that I wasn't ready at the time and it's really unhelpful to just dwell on things you did in your past that you can't change, but man it's sometimes hard not to think about how much I regret just not having gone to a four-year university right after high school so I could finally get away from home and my current situation that was and still is making me miserable and then proceeding to fail my community college classes because I was depressed
#hard not to feel like a total fuck-up eh#i guess everything comes full circle#i'm just really tired of it here man#i feel like there's nothing for me here and that i've just kind of been letting myself endure the same shit for years now#like i've lived in the same house since 2012 and the same bedroom since 2014#time for a change#my family's really not great and i guess my mom can be alright but my dad and my brother are just straight-up rotten people...#...and i would just really love to be away from them for good (even though my parents are divorced and i hardly see my dad)#i just really don't have anyone here so of course that's isolating and has made me really yearn for a change#i mean i have a few friends but i don't really fit in with them or see them very much so i don't really get included in anything...#...and then when we do have a plan to do something usually it just ends up not working out because no one's free at the same time#and i know i suck too because a couple times ago i said i couldn't hang out but really i just didn't want to hang out with them#i guess that's not a good sign though because why wouldn't you want to hang out with your friends#plus why is it that every 'friend group' i've had in my life has been exactly like this and full of people who don't care about me lol#on a different note pretty much everyone in my town and even in surrounding towns is or seems stuck-up as hell lol#like we get it your parents are rich great no one cares#i'm normally overly sentimental and nostalgic but if it were possible for me to just leave here right now i would in a heartbeat#i remember when i was a high school senior i got accepted to this school that was across the country and it's like shit...#...maybe i should've just forced myself to get over my fears and gone there#my plan now is to actually complete another year of CC classes (i'm basically just starting over) then transfer to a four-year#but i'm gonna try and not fuck it up this time#i'm seriously still angry at myself for having totally wasted an entire year but can't change that now either#sorry for another stupid teenage angst sounding rant#i like to get things out sometimes even if it just falsely makes me feel like i actually accomplished something#personal#txt#rants#vent post
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