#already been raining for 2 days straight. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moonjxsung · 8 months

Text

Where the Storm Looms

*This fic is part 2 to “When the Rain Stops.” You can read part 1 here.

Pairing: Lee Minho x fem reader

W/c: 13k

Warnings: smoking, drinking, mention of cheating, mention of masturbation, mention of casual sex, brief mention of calories, nipple play, unprotected sex, bulge kink, creampie, squirting

Synopsis: Now living in the city he despises, Minho is determined to find you again- despite the sacrifices he’ll have to make.

18+. mdni!

•

They say if you love something, you have to set it free. And if it comes back to you, it’s yours.

So what implication can be drawn if you go searching for it- for three months and 13 days straight?

Minho isn’t sure.

The city is just as grimy as he remembered it- teeming with the sounds of pushy street vendors, bumper-to-bumper traffic and conversations of plummeting stocks at every corner. The coffee is overpriced, and the people dress in gray slacks even on laundry day. The girls are pretty- they’re decent in bed, they work good jobs and they can carry a conversation well as long as it involves their respective companies or an ex-boyfriend.

But none of them are you.

Minho feels stupid for thinking about it this extensively. A random hookup in his bar as a result of bad weather conditions- one you never even bothered saying goodbye to him after, and yet he’s still hung up on you.

That stupid game. He should've never let you fix that arcade game. Maybe then you wouldn’t have stayed so long, wouldn’t have kissed him back even though he’s the one who initiated it. Wouldn’t have let him fuck you on the pool table, moaning his name over and over again like a prayer permanently etched into his memory. But he didn’t stop any part of it- in fact, he didn’t want to. Minho knows he wouldn’t have been able to deny you anything you asked for that night, not with the way you looked at him through wide sparkling eyes, scared you’d angered him, when all he really wanted was to keep you safe. Safe from the storm, safe from people with ill intent. He’d pour you a hundred cups of Diet Coke on the rocks if you asked, or be a chance card in another game of pool you’d inevitably lose at. He’d make love to you repeatedly on any surface inside the dive bar, kissing you every chance he got like it would be his last. Because you changed something in him that night- and he’s determined to find you again.

“Still waiting on that garlic bread. And we have another order for fettuccine.”

Minho nods once, drizzling a pan with olive oil and prepping the ingredients that sit in disarray on the counter in front of him.

Tales from the hotel kitchen.

So maybe getting his job back as a private chef was a harder feat than he’d originally anticipated it to be. But Minho’s sudden assimilation back into city life meant he had to make adjustments- sacrifices. And although he’s still technically the owner of the little dive bar 6 hours out of the city, he recently signed co-ownership off to Jeongin, who’s been practically running the place while Minho does some soul-searching in the city.

Of course, the soul he’s searching for is nowhere to be found.

Coffee shops, bookstores, convenience shops, dive bars... Minho recently read there are nearly 2 million people in this godforsaken city at any given moment of the day. That’s a 0.0000005% chance he’ll run into you again. Coupled with the fact he’s already run into you once before, and slept with you, the odds are considerably lower. But nonetheless, the objective remains.

Sometime after the initial run-in, Minho also realized he knows nearly nothing about you. You never spoke of an occupation, or a significant other, or even your favorite color. He does know you live in the city, you’re vulnerable against married men and you can use a screwdriver like a cellphone. The rest is left to his wandering imagination.

“Minho, your bread is burning,” a voice interrupts, and he snaps out of the daze he’s in to lower the heat on the oven. Minho’s sous chef Seungmin sighs in irritation, practically pushing Minho aside to retrieve the loaf from the oven himself.

“Do you want me to take over for the evening? You seem really distracted and we’re super busy out there.”

“No, I’m fine,” Minho says, his eyes darting briefly to the window across from him.

Dark rain clouds loom over the afternoon sky, but it doesn’t rain- in fact, it hasn’t rained once since that night. At first, he sees it as some sort of blessing, attributing the mostly-clear skies to your presence somewhere in the city. Perhaps where you go, the sun follows.

But he quickly realizes that it’s more of a curse, this constant storm looming over him, taunting him with promises of darkened clouds and rainfall, only for the nighttime to bring clear skies once again.

It never rains anymore. Sometimes Minho thinks he imagined you, that night in his bar.

Maybe he imagined the rain, too.

The ceiling of this apartment is in desperate need of some TLC, Minho thinks, as he lays in bed that night with hands folded over his chest. It’s riddled with cracks and imperfections, running along the drywall like a design choice. But it’s not a design choice- it’s a result of the shitty architectural integrity of this crowded city. Everyone’s so desperate to live out here they’d put up with leaky roofs and cockroaches before they’d live in the suburbs. Minho thinks back to his apartment in the suburbs, where his three cats are currently being taken care of by a friend, and the biggest pain point is patching up thumbtack holes when he moves things around. It’s spacious, a lot bigger than this dump, and it’s a hell of a lot cheaper.

There’s no set time Minho has dedicated to being out here. “When the time is right, I’ll leave,” he told his friend, averting his gaze to avoid raising suspicions about his intentions out here. But to most, it’s clear Minho is going through something. His hair is visibly longer, the silky ends of it now resting just above his shoulders. He can’t be bothered to care about what he wears, knowing very well that he doesn’t blend in with the other city-dwellers when he’s in jeans and a baggy t-shirt. But without the bar to dress up for like he used to, he doesn’t find reason in trying.

Minho’s also well aware that he looks like a complete lunatic, coming out to the city like this to search for a hookup. If your paths do cross, there’s a likelihood you’ll call the police and have him arrested for stalking. You could also have zero recollection of who he is, or that you ever hooked up with him. You could have a boyfriend, be married by now, or just not interested in Minho. Maybe you regret that night. Maybe you lied about being from the city. You could be on the other side of the world by now, and he’d have no clue.

But he feels it- he feels you, in this city, at every corner he turns. He sees traces of you in the people who smile at him when he passes them by. He sees you in the people who hold doors open for him, the baristas who make foam hearts in his lattes every morning, even the businessmen when they catch themselves admiring the beauty of the buildings on a smoke break. He sees you in all things good, when he’s reminded momentarily that the world has more to offer than boxing him in the confines of a dark bar out in the suburbs. And while he’s not completely in love with life all over again, it’s a start.

The hotel patrons give their compliments to his cooking, and he’s reminded of his days as a private chef again, chasing the sweet high of people fawning over his entrees and desserts. When he calls Jeongin to check up on the bar, he remembers the view out the window by the kitchen- nothing but a parking lot, empty most days, or plagued by truck drivers and prostitutes.

Sure, his apartment window in the city faces a brick wall, but he can escape at any given moment of the day to be part of the towering skyscrapers and city lights that stay on all night. It’s then that he feels bad for Jeongin, who doesn’t have the same luxury all the way out there.

Of course, Minho also remembers the sex from that night. It plays in his head on a loop, often echoing in his brain at the worst of times. The way you’d called out his name was all but intoxicating, chanting it in the empty space of the spare room like you’d done it a hundred times before. Your fingers looped through his hair, massaging his locks in praise while your moans did the rest. Your lips on his, smiling when he teased you about the game of pool- teasing him back, like the complex woman he knew you were.

He remembers the way your hardened nipples felt between his fingers, memorizing their feel with his nimble hands while he pressed his third erection of the night against you, a confession that this is what you do to me.

The way you took him with complete ease, undoubtedly craving him, too, gushing with arousal as he fit so perfectly inside you.

“You’re so big,” you’d said to him, and Minho isn’t sure he ever felt confident in his girth until it was inside of you, thrusting in and out like he was trying to make his semen catch, painting your walls white while you squirted on his still-hard cock.

He can’t get off with girls from the city unless he’s thinking of you and him, in the bar, bent over the pool table. He also avoids the spare room of the bar now, getting hard almost instantly at the sight of it.

It’s embarrassing, and he knows it, tucking his now-softened cock back into his boxers and reaching for tissues on his makeshift cardboard box nightstand. The shame washes over him as he folds his hands over his chest again, eyes locked with the shitty drywall ceiling. Have the cracks gotten bigger? He’s not sure of the large one to the left, caving in toward the window in the shape of a backwards L. If it rains, the roof will surely leak. How do you fix a leaky roof? Is it ever going to rain again? Where are you?

On a random Tuesday in the middle of the month, Minho runs into Jisung again.

He’s out by one of the tall buildings in the financial district, one hand shoved in the pocket of his suit while the other brings a turquoise-colored vape up to his lips.

Of course he vapes, Minho thinks. He’s just as predictable as he’s always been.

“Is that the Lee Minho?” Jisung says, blowing a cloud of strawberry-scented smoke into the air. Minho shrugs, saying nothing as he approaches Jisung.

“What are you doing all the way out here? Lost ownership of the bar or what?”

“No,” Minho replies, a stoic expression on his face. “I’m living here.”

“You’re living here? You? Avid hater of city life and all things that inhabit it?”

“Yeah,” Minho says, counting black spots on the concrete below him. “Not permanently. Just looking for something.”

“What are you looking for?”

Minho swallows momentarily. He knows he could bring up your name, and Jisung would probably know where to find you. After all, the two of you bonded over your love of the city before you almost went home with him that night. But he refrains, suddenly feeling a little jealous and overprotective. It’s the reminder that Minho was technically a second choice- maybe you’d just slept with him to get some relief for the sexual tension you felt with Jisung. You did lecture him when he cockblocked you, after all.

“Seeing if the apartments are better out here,” he settles on saying. “They’re not.”

Jisung chuckles. “Yeah, well, I could’ve easily told you that.”

He slides his vape back into the pocket of his suit, adjusting the buttons as he begins to speak again.

“When was the last time I saw you, anyway?”

Minho blinks nervously. His mind races with options of what to reply, but Jisung is faster.

“That storm!” He finally exclaims, clapping enthusiastically. “When we were stuck there while it rained fucking cats and dogs out there. You, me and Miss ‘hard to get’.”

“Right,” Minho says, his pulse quickening a little at the mention of you.

“Can you believe she backed out like that? I went back to that hotel with blue balls like you wouldn’t believe. I bet she’s a good fuck, too, the way she’s persuaded so easily.”

Minho grows irate, doing his best to refrain from lashing out at Jisung to defend you. The way he speaks about you like you’re disposable, like you weren’t only swayed by him because he puts on this act, one where he’s single and nice. Both polar opposite of the sleazy man standing in front of Minho right now.

“Doesn’t matter,” Jisung says. “I ran into her like a week after that, anyway.”

Minho feels his heart stop. He finally makes eye contact with Jisung, voice hitching in the back of his throat as he searches for words to say. What were you doing? What were you wearing? Were you with anyone? Did Jisung try to pursue you again? Was there any trace that you were as changed by Minho as he is by you?

“You did?” Minho queries.

“Yeah. She remembered me, for sure. Said she googled me and found out I was married. That’s the problem with women these days- they fucking google you. Who does that?”

Minho observes the way Jisung snorts with laughter, shaking his head like he’s not a serial cheater himself.

“Where was she?” Minho asks, quickly aware of the way the question comes off as a little too bold.

“Uh… I can’t remember. Think we were in the parking garage off 7th. She was all dressed up like she was going to work or something. Must be a private investigator with the way she stalks her potential hookups.”

Minho laughs internally at the irony.

“Why do you ask?” Jisung chimes in again, sounding a little skeptical of Minho’s behavior now.

“Nothing,” Minho says quickly. “Just curious.”

Jisung nods slowly, not taking his gaze off of Minho. He’s visibly tense, thoughts circling his mind as he tries to recall the buildings on 7th.

“I should get going,” Jisung says, pulling his vape back out to take another hit, much like the nicotine-addicted cheater Minho sees him for.

“Good catching up,” Jisung finishes, exhaling a cloud of smoke into his face. “Catch you later.”

And as Minho leaves, he turns back around to Jisung, pausing momentarily before speaking again.

“Oh, Jisung?”

“Yeah?”

Minho cocks his head slightly.

“Your wife really deserves better.”

The parking garage on 7th is a shithole. It’s a narrow, almost cylindrical building, filled back to back with rows of fancy cars. Minho remains parked on the third floor, sat in his car like he’s staking out the place, eyes darting over every passerby in hopes you’ll be one of them.

But they’re all middle-aged folks, blabbering into their cellphones with briefcases in hand, no sense of purpose for the life they’re living aside from money, and maybe their fancy cars.

He sighs, reaching for a cigarette and cupping his hand over the lighter to set it ablaze. Smoking is a recent development. Minho doesn’t think he’s chain-smoked like this since his culinary school days, when he’d spend late nights preparing for exams and practicing his plating techniques. It’s not that the cigarettes relieve him, nor does he even care for the flavor. But he does it as a form of sacrifice. The city keeps you from him, and consequently, he’s pulled back largely from things he actually enjoys, choosing to mirror the actions of the city-dwellers. Smoking, casual sex, drinking, dressing down, hardly ever eating full meals. He’s become reduced to a product of the disdain he feels for himself, spiraling further with every cruel reminder that you’re not his.

When his car stakeout passes the three hour mark, Minho is all out of cigarettes. He’s also starving, and dying for a beer. So he pulls out of the lot, most of the spaces vacant now, anyway, and starts the painful trip back to his apartment. The streets smell like sewage with his windows rolled down, but his own car reeks like a cheap casino. With one hand hanging loosely over the door of his car, Minho speeds down the crowded streets, groaning when he’s promptly halted by a red light. Cars press their horns impatiently as nobody seems to move. Minho glances to the right of him, scanning the streets that begin to darken as night falls. And then he sees it- a dive bar. It’s a city dive bar, of course, tainted by its rustic gentrifying decor and teeming with hipsters. But he’s sure you’re in there, knowing you probably regularly finish work and hit up the nearest bar to down Diet Cokes and chicken wings. In a frantic motion, Minho puts the car in reverse, using one hand to steer as he makes an illegal u-turn. The cars around him honk angrily, shouting profanities and pulling up to fill his spot. But he crosses several lanes to reach the bar, a sense of anticipation bubbling inside him already.

The place is much fancier than Minho’s, albeit much smaller. An open bar makes up most of the dive bar itself, a sleek laminate wood finish surrounding the series of draft beer dispensers. The wall above the bar is plastered in license plates from all different regions, and the patrons around all appear to be tourists judging by the way they take photos of it. There are several bartenders working tonight, the nearest one to Minho being a heavily tattooed gentleman with bleach blonde hair.

“What can I get you?” He asks enthusiastically, holding a pen and pad in his hand. Minho’s not sure he’s ever seen a bartender write down an order for a single beer.

When the bartender makes his way to the tap, Minho sits on one of the circular red stools. They’re a little too tall for his liking, swiveling around erratically while he catches his balance and glances around at the patrons. He’s the only one alone here, standing out even more in his loose jeans and an old jersey.

“That’s $12,” the bartender says when he returns.

“Can I just run a tab?” Minho asks, scoffing internally at the steep price.

“First drink’s upfront payment,” the bartender replies, flipping a tablet around to Minho for his payment details. Minho swipes his card and confidently smashes the ‘no tip’ button, earning a little eye roll from the bartender. These bars are nothing like his back home.

When the bartender moves away to attend to another patron, Minho swivels around on his stool, scanning the bar for a sign of you. There’s not a single cup of coke on any of the tables here. Everyone’s happily sipping away at whiskeys and vermouths, their drinks clutched closely in hand as they chat about their boring lives. Minho tunes in briefly to a conversation about someone’s broken toe and sighs, wishing so badly he had you to converse with. You’d probably laugh at all of Minho’s jokes about the people here, agreeing with his presumptions of them. See him? He’s definitely compensating. That guy there needs to cool off the vodka seltzers. She’s definitely not interested in him.

As he takes a sip from his mug of beer, it suddenly catches his eye. The arcade game, tucked away in the back of the bar like a little secret. It’s neglected, probably no one around old enough to know how to operate the thing. Minho rises from his seat, making his way to the game and smiling at the sight.

It reminds him of you, the giant black display of Galaga, decorated with whimsical drawings of aliens and Galaxian Flagships. He pulls out a quarter, slotting it in the machine, because of course you have to pay at this one, and slots it in, waiting for the thing to start up.

Only it doesn’t, the game not even emitting so much as a hum from the monitor. He smacks it a few times, partly in efforts to start it up, and partly to reclaim his last quarter. But it’s a moot effort- the game is completely dead.

Minho makes his way back to the bar, frustrated at the deja vu of broken arcade games and the memories they bring back to him.

“Your game’s broken,” Minho says to the bleach blonde bartender.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. That thing’s been dead for months now.”

“I put a quarter in. Swallowed it and won’t spit it out.”

“Yeah, it does that. Sorry, man.”

“Sorry? You should be. That thing shouldn’t be down here if it isn’t working.”

The bartender narrows his eyes as he mixes another drink for a patron.

“Yeah, well, people don’t usually try it. Again, sorry man. Not really anything I can do about it.”

Minho is angry now, his ears flushed a crimson shade as he speaks, not in any mood to reason with the bartender.

“Look man, just give me my quarter. Can’t you key the machine or something?”

“We don’t have access to it. It’s from some local vendor. You’re welcome to go find a few pennies on the ground if the 25 cents means so much to you.”

“What the fuck kind of behavior is that for a bartender?”

The other patrons and bartenders have noticed now, quieting down as they watch Minho down a few more sips of his beer angrily.

“Look man, you’re gonna have to leave. I can’t have you in here acting like this.”

“I want my quarter.”

“I can’t get your quarter, dude. It’s gone. Get out before I call the police.”

“Why don’t you hire someone to fix the machine, then? There are people in the city who do that, you know. I know someone who’d get it fixed in seconds. She’d be able to get the fucking quarter out, too.”

“Call the police,” the bartender says to another, and Minho raises his hands up in surrender.

“Relax, I’m leaving.” He chugs the rest of his beer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as the other patrons look on in shock. Nearby, a different bartender has a phone clutched in his hand, ready to dial the cops like they’d requested.

“Tell me one thing,” Minho says before turning around.

The man says nothing, eyes narrowed in fear as he waits for Minho to finish.

“You guys sell Diet Coke here?”

The bartenders look around at each other nervously, confused at the question.

“We only have Pepsi,” one chimes in.

And Minho nods, understanding.

“Take care,” Minho says, waving them off as he finally exits the bar.

“I need you to come back for a little bit,” Jeongin says into the receiver one morning. He sounds panicked, like he might break down at any moment. Minho knows he wouldn’t request this of him if it wasn't something serious.

“Okay,” Minho replies. “What happened?”

“The place was robbed last night. By a group of guys. Nobody’s hurt, but they did have a knife on them. Cleared out one of the registers.”

Minho sighs, suddenly feeling awful about being out here. What is he doing out here when the business he owns is being threatened? Even worse, putting Jeongin and the other staff at risk while he embarks on the futile task of searching for what’s already gone? There’s no good explanation for it. It’s selfish- sure, he’s finally chasing after what he wants, but it’s a selfish task nonetheless.

“I can be there this evening,” Minho says, already mentally preparing himself for the six hour drive out there. “Just close up for the day. Make sure everyone gets home safe and knows they’ll be paid for the day anyway.”

Jeongin understands, hanging up on his end of the line and closing up the bar.

As Minho tosses his cell phone aside, he looks around the apartment, sighing heavily when he observes the state of things. His stuff is still stored away in cardboard boxes, the apartment looking more like a showroom than a space lived-in by him. The walls remain bare of any form of decorations, the tiny excuse for a kitchen is void of dishes and cutlery, even his toiletries are in travel bags, like he’s ready to go home at any given moment. And he just might be, after this week’s events.

The drive home is as excruciating as he remembers it. Exiting the city means sitting in miles of traffic, alongside impatient city-dwellers who somehow voluntarily make the commute everyday for their jobs. Minho briefly wonders if you’re in the traffic, too. You’re a little impatient, he remembers, thinking about how you demanded a phone charger from him that night in the bar. Only your impatience is something he’d gladly put up with in traffic like this, probably taking the opportunity to play his favorite songs for you and listen to you talk his ear off. He sighs to himself, wishing so badly you could fill the empty leather seat next to him, currently inhabited by empty cigarette boxes and discarded takeout boxes.

Six agonizing hours later, the sun’s beginning to set as Minho pulls into the familiar parking lot of the bar. Waning beams of sunlight reflect off the old bar sign, almost luring Minho inside as the nighttime chases closely after. When he unlocks the door and makes his way inside, it’s like he never left. The red booths are vacant, the peeling vinyl of their seats still scattered across the floor like he remembers. Bottles of alcohol neatly line the shelves behind the counter, which don’t reside far from the shiny mugs and glasses inside the cabinets. Minho runs a finger over the counter, well impressed with the state of the bar since Jeongin’s taken over. It’s impeccable, almost better than it was when Minho first left.

“Minho?” A voice calls, and a figure peeks from around the corner.

It’s Jeongin, who looks different in casual wear for the day, sporting a pair of sweatpants and a simple black t-shirt. He’s wearing his signature pair of thick framed glasses, running a hand through his hair as he takes a seat on one of the barstools.

“It was this register,” he says, gesturing to the one closest to Minho. “I think it was roughly $300 in there. They all had dark jackets and I couldn’t see their faces.”

Minho nods, opening the register to investigate, and then slumps back in the stool behind the counter.

“I’ll take the remaining cash to the safe. Let’s stay closed for a few days while I file a police report. They’ll probably want to poke around in here, and I don’t want any of the patrons to panic.”

It’s Jeongin’s turn to nod, making a mental note of Minho’s instructions. After a brief pause, he speaks again.

“How’s the city?”

“The city is…the city.”

Jeongin chuckles lightly, shaking his head.

“Are you working?”

Minho nods. “Not my private chef gig. But it’s a restaurant. I have a sous chef, which helps. It’s nothing special, though.”

There’s a moment of silence as Jeongin traces the table pattern with his fingers. He wants to ask more from him- he wants to know why Minho’s out there in the first place, why he even agreed to sign co-ownership off to Jeongin when this was his bar he was so proud of for all those years. But there’s seemingly no courteous way to go about it- any which way, he feels like he’s overstepping. Minho is usually on the quieter side, only confiding in his colleagues when it’s something that affects the business.

“Minho, are you…” he begins, his voice wavering in fear that he’ll unintentionally offend.

“Have you found what you’re looking for?”

Minho is silent, and for a second, it’s hard for Jeongin to gauge his reaction. His eyes remain locked on Jeongin’s pupils, trembling in discomfort as he thinks back to you. He thinks of the city, of the bar fight, of the hours spent in a dingy parking garage and the cracks in his apartment ceiling.

Jeongin begins to take back his question, disappointed in himself he’s even chosen to utter the inquiry. But Minho finally does give an answer, albeit a vague one.

“Not yet,” he replies, swallowing nervously before continuing. “You’ll be the first to know.”

When Jeongin leaves, he takes the cozy atmosphere of the bar with him, and the place now feels colder, more unfamiliar. Minho looks out the window at the darkness that envelopes the parking lot, feeling a sense of unease in knowing he’s going to leave it all behind again. This bar needs him, it needs stability. It needs someone to look out for the people who are vulnerable to sleazy married men or robbers. As he pockets the cash to transfer to the safe, he glances at the yellow Pac-Man game, sitting proudly where it has for the past three months since its repair. Little ghosts dance along the display screen, prompting users with ‘press A to start’.

Minho simply walks past it, knowing very well there’s little joy in a game that only brings back painful reminders. He makes his way to the back office, where the red leather couch and desk still remain. The cash is deposited in the safe, and the keys in the file cabinet- third drawer from the top.

Minho feels a gravitational pull to the spare room upstairs- he knows he shouldn’t, very well aware that he’s only hurting himself by picturing you up there. But still he does. Hands shoved in his pockets, he makes his way up the creaking stairs and through the little hallway.

The room is just as suffocating as he remembers it. The same old pool table sits in the middle of the room, and at the back where the arcade game previously lived, there’s a rectangle on the carpeted floor where it once sat, contrasting a bright untouched green to the older, worn down carpet. Minho doesn’t leave the doorway; he just stands, observing the room in all its mundane appearance. His eyes remain on the spot you’d previously hoisted yourself up to sit on the pool table, and he can almost see himself looming over you, too. From this angle, it doesn’t feel like it ever happened. It plays more like a cheap movie where a famous scene was shot. Like a figment of his imagination.

Have you found what you’re looking for?

He hasn’t, not yet. But seeing the potential of this old room, in the bar he owns, Minho knows it’s finally time to stop searching.

Back in the city, Minho’s days are numbered by the countdown. Two days until he’ll leave all this behind, for good this time.

The kitchen is busier than normal on this gloomy Thursday, more staff than usual working floor while others make trips up to hotel rooms for delivery.

Minho drizzles pans with olive oil in between plating a shrimp scampi, tonight’s special. The air is thick and fragrant with seafood and Parmesan cheese.

“I need a lava cake for room 302!” Seungmin exclaims to Minho in a rushed tone.

“On the cart by the door. Second row.”

Cooks work diligently in their respective areas, and Minho wipes his brow with the back of his sleeve. It’s a stressful role, no doubt, but he still feels a sense of sadness knowing he won’t be back to cooking like this once he’s back in town. He tries to mentally prepare himself for days of mixers and signature cocktails again.

“Minho, get out of here and go take a lunch,” Seungmin says as he reappears from behind the door. “That way the schedule doesn’t rearrange.”

Seungmin is a blunt sous chef, but he’s dedicated to his work. Minho knows he’ll have no problem working his way up to a head chef role one day. He appreciates his attention to detail and ability to work with difficult patrons, and he’d certainly entertain the idea of bringing him to work at the bar back home if he liked.

“On it,” Minho says, already pulling off his apron.

“Oh, and can you bring a Diet Coke to table 6 out there? I brought regular on accident.”

“Yup,” he says plainly, grabbing a clear glass from the clean stack and filling it at the fountain.

Minho thinks back to his apartment- this might be his last day at work, but he still has a generous amount of packing to do when he gets home. He’s relieved he kept most of his stuff in boxes, or else he’d easily be stuck here another week.

Minho counts boxes in his head, balancing the glass in one hand and his apron in another as he exits the kitchen to the seating area. He’s seldom out here, only really passing through when he gets in for the day. But he’s not in charge of serving guests, and the whole thing suddenly feels a little uncomfortable to him. Quiet jazz music plays overhead as tables fill the room with noise of their conversations, everyone dressed up with legs crossed neatly under white tablecloths.

Minho looks around frantically as beads of condensation on the glass wet his hand- where the hell is table 6?

A family sits at the back, every member paired with their drink of choice. An older couple sits closer to Minho, two cups of coffee steaming in front of them.

And by the window, two women deep in conversation- one of them passionately sharing tales of work or perhaps a lover.

And the other one, you.

Minho thinks he’s hallucinating for a moment, when he first observes you sitting there. You’re nodding as the other woman talks, a smile pulling on your face as she exaggeratedly makes a hand motion during her story. You’re not dressed like the other city-dwellers here, looking starkly more beautiful in a sweater and a pair of jeans. You’re the only one in here wearing jeans, aside from Minho. He smiles when he takes notice.

Another server passes Minho in a rush, shoving by him with a tray of food in hand.

“Oh sorry,” he says, eyeing him a little confused. “Did you want me to take that? I know you’re on lunch.”

Minho grips the coke firmly in his hand, shaking his head almost immediately. He’s never refused something so fast in his life before.

“No, I got it,” he says, finally taking the first step toward your table.

Minho glances down at his appearance briefly, fixing the collar of his shirt as he approaches you. He’s a little more dressed up for his last day here, a pastel blue button-up tucked into his jeans, his now long hair parted down the middle. He wishes he could tuck back into the bathroom and see himself more clearly, but he knows he’ll lose you if he doesn’t make his move now.

Minho’s thought of this moment so many times, replayed the conversation in his head like a speech he’s been waiting to give. He wants to proclaim his adoration for you, giving you a romantic explanation of how he’s searched for you all these months and never stopped thinking of you. And in an ideal scenario, you’d say the same, kissing him in front of all the restaurant-goers here and leaving back to town with him to live happily ever after.

But he’s never considered the idea of a friend being present. Or being crunched for time on a 30-minute lunch break. It’s all happening so fast, and his head spins with anxiety as he approaches you.

You’re still in conversation when he sets your Diet Coke down at the table a little too hard, hoping to get your attention. You don’t so much as look his way as he does, and he lingers by your table for a moment as he thinks.

“Do you need a straw?” Minho asks, eyes darting over your face briefly. Your hair is a little longer, too, but you look the same. He’s sure you’re not a hallucination.

“No thank you,” you say, finally glancing over at him to give a small nod.

And just like he’s lost for more words, you seem to be too, lips parting slightly as you keep your gaze fixed on his.

“Thank you for lunch,” you say to your colleague at the end of the meal, who’s been passionately talking about her recent project at work for the last hour.

You tuned her out after the first 15 minutes, being completely awestruck when the server delivered your requested Diet Coke to your table.

Either the brain fog from work is finally starting to catch up with you, or you’re simply too tired. But the server looks exactly like Lee Minho, the bartender you slept with a few months ago. Normally, you’d tuck away and hide at the sight of running into a hookup again. But Minho wasn’t just a hookup to you.

He’s lingered amongst your thoughts for the better part of those three months, the polite action of protecting you from sleeping with a married man and letting you seek shelter in the storm remaining some of the nicest things someone’s ever done for you.

He wasn’t just a hookup, not with the way he spoke of his hopes and dreams and asked about all of yours. And then he fucked you like a husband, the feeling you got from him bending you over the pool table like that still sending chills down your spine.

Your colleague pulls her scarf and coat on, nodding as she gestures to the door. The lunch rush has died down by now, and most of the tables are vacant as the streets bustle with people returning to work.

“I’m gonna grab a meal to-go,” you tell her. “I’ll meet you back at the office. Thank you again for lunch!”

Fortunately for you, she doesn’t question it, leaving you to order as she heads back to the office.

Minho is nowhere to be seen, only one server present on the floor as it’s more empty now.

“Can I help you?” A voice asks, and you’re met with the warm smile of the singular server.

“I… I wanted to give my compliments to the chef,” you say, sounding a little unsure of yourself.

“I’ll be sure to do that, thank you very much,” he replies, bowing when he finishes.

“I meant my personal thanks,” you clarify, and he furrows his brows in response.

“Uh… sure, I can ask him. Do you know if it was the head chef?”

“His name’s Lee Minho,” you say with a smile. “He’s probably the head chef.”

Minho’s sous chef runs his kitchen like the navy, you quickly learn, as he ushers for you to leave soon after Minho exits the kitchen due to the impending dinner rush.

There’s no time to catch up with him, only being able to utter a short “thanks for the meal,” as he waits for you to speak.

But he recognizes you, his gaze staying on yours a little too long as he nervously bows.

“Y/n,” he says in response, the action saying nothing and yet so much at the same time.

And you smile back at him, relieved he still remembers.

As Seungmin calls for him a second time, you pull a pen from the pocket of his apron, scribbling your address on a napkin from one of the tables.

He nods back at you, napkin clutched in hand, as he makes his way back to the kitchen.

And for a brief moment, neither of you can make out the implications of the action. An invitation for sex? A date to catch up? The details are blurry to both of you. But you hope he shows, and Minho already knows he wouldn’t miss it for the world.

As you fix your hair in front of the mirror that evening, memories of Minho play in your mind like they did after the night you spent together. You know you had to leave- it wasn’t something you decided lightly, but you and him are fated for different things. And who are you to intervene where the stars align? Minho deserves someone who will be available for him, someone uncomplicated and willing to inhabit the place he loves so dearly.

You, on the other hand, have a historical bad run with men, and so pursuing Minho would be uncharacteristic. But also unfair to him. It’s clear from that night that your worst traits will always remain the most significant parts of you- impatience, judgment and naivety. And while Minho comes off as curt, he’s anything but. He’s too good for you. You’re just a byproduct of this city- everything he despises. It would be over before it even started.

Minho shows at exactly a quarter to nine, knocking twice at the door as he waits out in the hallway for you.

When you unlatch the door, he perks up from nervously staring at the carpeted floor, adjusting his collar and clearing his throat. He looks more casual than you’ve probably ever seen him before, in a striped gray and black top, layered with a black collared shirt and dark ripped jeans. He also looks particularly handsome tonight, but also different, noticeably thinner in his face where his cheekbones protrude generously, his hair a little longer now.

“Hi,” Minho says plainly, his gaze fixated on yours in an almost trance-like state.

“Hi,” you reply, unsure of where to start. “Come in, please.”

You step aside, ushering him into your apartment and shutting the door behind you both. Minho looks around, impressed with the state of your apartment in comparison with his. There are cherry wood bookshelves lining the walls, filled top to bottom with stacks of old novels and textbooks. Colorful modern paintings decorate the walls, which are admittedly much taller than his own, and cozy lighting fills every room in the space.

Minho bows a little, handing you a bottle, and you smile in amusement as you scan the contents. A single liter of Diet Coke.

“You remembered,” you say, endeared by the simple action.

“So you don’t waste your calories,” he replies with a small smile, echoing the statement you told him so many months ago.

“Please, make yourself comfortable,” you tell him. Minho takes note of the shakiness in your voice, a little relieved that you seem to be as nervous as he is. It’s certainly not a matter of picking up where you left off when you both have your walls up like this, but he prefers the silence to your absence any day.

You disappear into the kitchen, pouring both of you glasses of Diet Coke as Minho settles on the edge of the couch. He folds his hands in his lap and blinks nervously, trying so hard to remember everything he’s wanted to confess to you since returning here. But in this proximity to you, in your own home, everything suddenly seems like a bad idea. He feels dramatic, overbearing, trying to make sense of this. Maybe he shouldn’t have come.

When you return, Minho takes a deep breath, quietly thanking you for the beverage when you place it on the coffee table in front of him. And then as he feared, a silence washes over both of you.

You take a sip of your coke, waiting for him to speak, and similarly, he waits for you. You’d forgotten, briefly. That Minho is inherently a quiet guy. It’d been you who brought his walls down, challenged him to a game of pool and even instigated the argument when he told Jisung to leave the bar. As he blinks at you a few times, you realize it may be his way of asking you to do it again, to help him feel comfortable again.

“Your Italian food is on par with your chicken wings,” you say to him, finally breaking the silence. “Think you need to add shrimp scampi to your bar menu.”

Minho smiles, and the whole room seems to brighten up when he does. His eyes turn to little crescents, his grin flashing you the skewed front teeth you were so endeared by when you first met him. His presence feels like the bar did- safe, familiar.

“It’s not my best work,” he replies. “It’s just a temporary job. But I do have a sous chef here, which is a plus.”

“The one with the nice smile? I know, he almost kicked me out for asking to see you. He’s very deceiving.”

You and Minho share laughter, recalling how Seungmin yelled at you several times at the restaurant today. When your laughter dies down, he swallows nervously, unsure of how to proceed.

“Thanks for… giving your compliments today,” he says. He really wants to say ‘thank you for seeing me again’.

“I knew I recognized you,” you say back to him. “I was surprised to see you here in the city. I guess I just wanted some confirmation it was really you.”

“It’s me,” Minho says sheepishly. You smile at him, feeling a little sorry at the way his tone sounds so unsure.

“What are you doing in the city, anyway?” You ask.

Minho isn’t sure what to say. In an alternate timeline, he’d like to tell you he came for you. But he knows he’ll come off as a creep, and the last thing he wants is to lose you again.

“Just wanted a break from the suburbs,” he settles on saying.

“Do you like it?”

He toys with a frayed hem on the throw pillow beside him, shaking his head a little hesitantly.

“If I say no, you’ll think less of me.”

He regrets the words as soon as they leave his lips, not wanting you to think he came here for you to pity him. In fact, the reality is quite the opposite.

“I would never think less of you,” you assure him with a gentle smile. “You’re allowed to have your opinions.”

Minho nods, not entertaining the subject anymore.

“How’s the bar?”

“It’s okay,” Minho says, sighing a little as he thinks back to recent events. “It was robbed just the other night.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you say to him with widened eyes. “Is everyone… okay?”

“Everyone’s okay,” he affirms. “Just lost some money. I’m working with the police on it, so hopefully we’ll have someone arrested if we’re lucky.”

You nod at his words, feeling disheartened at the mention of the robbery. Although you’re not particularly fond of the suburbs, the bar is a sacred space for you, and knowing he and the staff were put in that situation makes you uneasy.

“How’s work?” Minho asks, and you chuckle at the question.

“Nothing special. I did get a promotion last month, but I’m only making a few dollars more than I was last time we met. Nothing to write home about.”

“We’ll congratulations anyway,” Minho says, raising his glass of Diet Coke. “Well deserved.”

“Thank you,” you say, clinking your glass against his and letting the cool carbonated beverage soothe the nerves still present in your demeanor.

“Oh, you’ll never believe it! I ran into Jisung out here,” you say to Minho with a scoff. “He tried to pursue me again, the bastard. I’m pretty sure he was even wearing a wedding ring this time. I had to tell him I found out he was married on-”

“On Google,” Minho finishes your sentence. “He told me.”

“You saw him too?”

“Yeah, just the other day. He’s just as obnoxious as he was three months ago.”

You smile at Minho, briefly reminded of the way you were able to bond with him as a result of Jisung’s antics.

“I never got to say thank you,” you say a little quietly, averting his gaze. “For that night. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you there to help me.”

He looks down, pondering your words for a moment.

“You left without saying goodbye.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to. Trust me. But I figured…” your voice trails off, trying desperately to decipher how to word your sentiment politely.

“Figured what?” He says, looking back up at you. His eyes tremble a little in anticipation for your reply.

“I figured we’re just different people.”

Minho nods, pursing his lips together as he replays your words.

“And by that you mean that you’re a successful member of the city, and I’m just a bartender.”

Your face drops at his words, suddenly panicked that he’s come here because he’s angry at you. You would never think less of him for being a bartender- hell, you wouldn’t even think less of him if he was unemployed. You’re not sure you could think less of him if you tried.

“That’s not what I mean. And you know that.”

Minho narrows his eyes a little, challenging you.

“Then what do you mean?”

“I mean,” you begin, sighing before continuing to speak. “That I’m everything you despise. I let people down. I’m not inherently a good person, the way you are. You know how I stormed in there demanding a phone charger? Fighting you at the bar because you wouldn’t let me sleep with a married man? That’s the kind of person I am. I’m impatient, and naive and I’m nothing like the girls you’re used to.”

“How do you know what I’m used to?”

“Come on, Minho,” you say, and the conversation finally begins to sound a little more natural between the two of you. “You said it yourself- I’ve never lived without the notion of wanting to migrate as soon as possible. Who’s to say that doesn’t apply to people, too?”

“You’re nothing like you say you are,” Minho interrupts, and you can feel yourself getting frustrated at his words.

“How would you know that? Because you slept with me in a bar? I’m not this dream girl you think I am, Minho. I was looking out for you. You deserve better.”

Minho says nothing for a moment, swirling Coke around in his cup and watching the bubbles fizzle away as they hit the rim of the glass. He shakes his head a little to himself, and then he begins to speak again.

“You want to know why I came out here again?”

You remain silent, already knowing what he’s going to say. But to your surprise, his answer is a little more complex.

“I came out here because I wanted to. I wanted to work as a chef again. I wanted new colleagues, I wanted a different view and I was tired of being stuck in that little bar.”

You don’t reply to his statement, waiting for him to continue.

“And do you know why finding you was something I held onto so dearly?”

“Why?” You ask, the question coming out in a shaky tone. He takes a deep breath before he answers.

“I wanted to thank you. I wanted to tell you all about it. To tell you that you were right- sometimes, simple isn’t better. Sometimes you have to go back and make amends before you can move forward again. I wouldn’t have done any of this if someone really cool didn’t walk into my bar and make it clear to me. I guess part of me just hoped you were changed by it, too.”

Your expression softens at his words, feeling awful for the way this conversation has gone so far. It’s not your intention to hurt him- in fact, you feel particularly protective of Minho.

“I came looking for you, too,” you say after a moment of silence, and Minho perks up at your words.

“You did?”

“Mhm,” you nod. “I visited your bar. Twice since that night. I asked for you both times. The guy said you weren’t there anymore. I think after the second time, I took it as a sign to stop trying.”

“Jeongin?” Minho says, furrowing his brows together in visible confusion.

“He was blonde, a little small. Freckles.”

“Felix,” Minho says, chuckling lightly. “He’s a new hire. Jeongin would’ve told you differently. I have co-ownership with him now.”

You nod, folding your hands in your lap.

“I was changed by it,” you say, finally letting your gaze meet his. “I never stopped thinking about you. But it scares me. In so many ways, you’re everything I tried to run from when I left the suburbs. I don’t think I was ever good enough for any of it- all I cared about was money, and my work and finding an apartment with a nice enough view of the city. I didn’t care about the memories I made there, or that there’s genuinely good people. I didn’t even visit my parents very often. You reminded me that there’s more to it than just that. There’s more to the past than its negative aspects. So thank you, too.”

Minho is quiet for a moment, his mind racing with thoughts of what to do- how to keep you around. But in this moment, it’s clear to him- he has to let you go. He said what he had to say. He’s done the search, all three months of it, and he found you. He validated his own emotions and made sense of yours- you were just as changed by it as he was. But maybe that’s enough- perhaps the rest is just wishful thinking.

“Looks like we felt the same about it, then,” he says with a small smile, sitting up from the sofa and making his way to peer out the large glass window in your living room.

“And by the way, you definitely succeeded with the view out here. Mine’s just a brick wall.”

You chuckle, making your way over to the window and standing next to him to take in the view, too.

“It’s nice, right? All of the east side is visible from up here.”

“See that down there?” Minho points. “Visited that dive bar the other day. It sucks if you’re wondering.”

“CJ’s? Yeah, it’s kind of a shithole. They don’t even serve Diet Coke.”

Minho chuckles lightly, a little sadness evident in his tone.

“You know, maybe if you swung by and fixed their little arcade game, they’d supply you some. Probably something to do with all the ABC’s.”

“The what?” You query, furrowing your brows together and chuckling as he speaks.

“The little gidgets inside. You know, with the pins.”

You pause to think for a moment, mentally mapping out the circuit inside.

“The EPROMs,” you say finally.

Minho feels his breath hitch in his throat as you utter the acronym. It sounds so unfamiliar, and yet so familiar to him at the same time. He suddenly remembers that night, in the spare room, hearing you say it for the first time.

“The what?” He replies gently, not removing his gaze from the window.

“The EPROMs,” you clarify, a little louder this time.

“Say it again,” Minho breathes, a small smile painted on his face now.

“EPROMs?” You question, turning to face him, visibly confused.

“Yeah, those. What’s it stand for, anyway?” Minho finally asks, turning to face you. You face him, too, endeared by the curiosity he’s displayed for that game repair since the first night you met.

“Erasable programmable read-only memory,” you explain, aware of how close he is in proximity to you now. His eyes flicker down to your lips and then back up again, his plump lips pulling into a knowing smile as you speak. He knows he’s wandering into dangerous territory now, but he can’t help it- not when it’s you who makes him feel like this.

“God, it sounds so sexy when you say it,” Minho says sheepishly.

And he knows he shouldn’t entertain it- he’s well aware that his intention is to walk out of here and get on with his life, comfortable with the knowledge that you’d sought him out, too. But he can’t help himself when you’re this close to him, talking circuit repair so intelligently and erotically.

So without another question to stutter, or a fight to be had, he closes the gap between you two, pressing his lips onto yours and kissing you one last time.

You don’t protest the action, instantly tangling your hands in his tresses and reciprocating with the same hungry, passionate kisses he delivers. Maybe it’s the long hair, or the ripped jeans, but part of you also wonders if he’s been dying to kiss you tonight as badly as you’ve been craving him. The flavor is reminiscent of the bar to you, on that pool table like the first time you kissed him. He tastes like mint, enveloping your tongue with hints of Diet Coke while he nibbles on your bottom lip between kisses.

Without any sort of end goal in mind, your hands snake down to his collared shirt, which you tug on hungrily, and then begin to push off his torso. Minho smiles into the kiss, reaffirmed that you want him just the same, and he pulls away momentarily to complete the task of pulling off his button down.

Underneath, his striped t-shirt is cut off generously at the shoulders, completely exposing his arms to you. You almost gasp at the sight of his toned arms jutting out, veins running along his forearms and flexing with each movement. Minho chuckles softly when he takes notice, amused at your reaction.

When his button down shirt is fully off, he kisses you again, hands finding their way to your waist as he pushes himself against you, desperate to feel you against him. You walk backwards, cupping his face between your hands and leading him toward your bedroom.

For a fleeting moment, you’re nervous to take it any further than this, the last person you slept with being Minho himself. You can’t remember which undergarments you wore, or what your bedroom decor looks like to anyone except yourself. But Minho’s kisses shut you up, his lips moving against yours with desire and passion, and you don’t want to do anything except this, right here.

When you’ve made it to the bed, you pull away, crossing your arms over your torso and pulling your sweater off over your head. You’re in a lacy black bra, you realize, because of course you thought to dress for him. Minho blinks a few times, crossing his own arms over his torso and finally pulling his shirt over his head.

It’s then that you realize you’ve never seen Minho without his shirt before- he wore that white button down in the bar, only allowing you to see a generous amount of his collarbones. But standing in front of you like this, he’s breathtaking, his toned torso and his sharp collar bones complementing his sculpted thighs and arms so perfectly.

When he takes notice of you staring at him, one hand flies down to his mid-torso, where he spreads a palm out over the skin, seemingly in an attempt to cover something. You take one step forward, gently placing a hand over his and moving it so that his torso is exposed again. And across his tanned skin, a pale pink scar catches your eye, not very noticeable from your previous distance, but definitely perceptible when you observe his body long enough.

“Minho,” you coo, running your hand along the scar and tracing it with your fingertips. “You’re beautiful,” you say to him after a moment, smiling up at him sincerely.

Minho’s heart almost stops in its place, overwhelmed with his emotions for you, to be here with you, the desire to make love to you eating away at his mind like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

And if it is, he’d die a happy man.

His lips crash against yours again, hands snaking down to your jeans, where he unbuttons them, your hands meeting his to help pull them down. While you take over, he unbuckles his belt, snaking the leather out from around his waist and undoing his buttons. It’s then that he pushes you gently against the bed, hoisting your legs up so that you’re at a comfortable angle, finally propping himself above you and working kisses down your neck. He nibbles your flesh between his teeth the way he did before, beginning to work purple bruises around your throat. And you let him, without protest, because you’re desperate for a reminder that he’s here, that he’s yours. Minho smiles against your neck when he feels you moan softly at the sensation, satisfied with the way you melt at his touch.

“Minho,” you call, and he brings his lips to press a chaste kiss to yours again.

“What is it, baby?” He coos gently, pressing a series of kisses to your lips before you speak again.

“I never should have left,” you reply, toying with a strand of his hair around your fingers in a pleading manner. Your chest is heavy with guilt, tears almost pricking at your eyes as he looms over you like this.

He chuckles softly, kissing you for a moment before grazing his lips over yours again, speaking just above a whisper.

“I’m here,” he says. “I’m right where you left me.”

And it’s your turn to kiss him, crashing your lips against his again as tears fall from the corners of your eyes. Minho takes notice when the salty taste of them dance along his tongue, kissing them back up your face and holding you a little closer to him. His hands wrap around the small of your back to find the clasp of your bra, skillfully undoing it with one hand and pulling away from you to discard it on the floor. It’s Minho’s turn to stare, running one hand down your clavicles until he’s grazing your nipples with his fingers.

You feel your breath hitch in your throat with anticipation, before he finally dips his middle finger down over one of your hardened nipples, earning a stifled gasp from you. He works little circles over your nipple with one finger, the gentle stimulation making you gasp into his mouth as he kisses you again.

And then he moves back to your neck, kissing over the bruises he sucked into your flesh, trailing lower and lower until he’s just above your breasts. You look down at him with bated breath, almost clenching at the way his lips exhale little breaths against your nipples, making them even harder. With his eyes on yours, he finally lowers himself, latching both lips around your breast and sucking.

Your back arches up into him instinctively, the feeling of his teeth grazing your skin sending divine shivers up your spine. In a sudden motion, his tongue swirls around your bud, the cold sensation causing you to moan fervently. He smiles with your flesh between his teeth, while your hands tangle themselves in his hair and massage him encouragingly.

It feels so primal, so natural to have his mouth all over you, your legs pressing together to calm the ache between your legs. He takes his time on one breast, only coming up to press a kiss in the valley of your breasts and then moving to give attention to the other one. You could stay here for hours, like this, if it wasn’t for the pulsing reminder in your groin that you want to feel him inside of you.

“Please,” you say gently, pressing your legs together and squeezing in efforts to relieve yourself.

Minho chuckles softly, letting go from your nipple with a gentle sucking sound, a string of spit hanging from his lips as he looks up at you with hooded eyes.

“I want to feel you inside me again,” you admit shyly, tenderly running your nails along the back of his neck. Minho’s lips meet yours again, and his hands quickly find their way to the hem of your underwear, sliding them down and pulling away to discard them on the floor.

He’s promptly reminded of how needy and vocal you are, smiling down at you as you pull his face back to yours and swirl your tongue around his. But truth be told, he’s just as needy as you are, equally reminded of how much he’s touched himself to the thought of this and secretly prayed he’d be able to make love to you again. And now here, his lips on yours, it’s finally happening, his rock-hard erection proof that it’s always been you.

As you arch up into him, one leg wrapping around his to push him even closer against you, your hand snakes down to his erection, palming him through his boxers. Minho groans at the contact, his lips parting a little as he winces in pleasure.

“You’re so hard,” you say with a smile, pleased at his evidently equal desperation for you.

“All for you,” Minho replies, running one hand down your stomach to rub little circles on your clit, causing you to moan in pleasure.

“Ah- fuck,” you breathe out, contorting against him, desperate for him to fill you up. “Please, Minho, want to feel you inside me,” you pant against him, pleading for the second time now.

He remains like that for a moment, working little circles onto your clit as he observes the way your eyebrows arch up in pleasure.

“Want me to fill you up?” He asks, cocking his head with yours as you grasp his forearm.

“Yes, please,” you reply, trying your best to stave off your orgasm until he’s inside of you.

And without teasing you any further, Minho pulls away from you to slide off his boxers, his cock springing up against his abdomen in anticipation for you. You prop yourself up on your elbows, in awe at the sight as he tosses his boxers aside and leans down to kiss you again.

“Lay down,” Minho orders sweetly, and you do as you’re told, exhaling once to calm your steadily beating pulse.

“Is this still okay?” Minho asks, caressing your shoulder with concern as you wait for his next move.

“Yes,” you say, giving a half smile to him when he rubs his thumb along your cheek lovingly. He smiles back at you, giving one small peck to your lips before hoisting himself up and wrapping one hand around his cock.

You watch as Minho wraps his slender fingers around the base of his cock, pumping a few times before leaning down to kiss you tenderly. The sensation causes him to breathe a few gasps into your mouth, Minho also trying his best to stave his release until he’s inside of you.

“Gonna put it in now, okay?” He asks, breaking away to part your thighs. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

But you don’t- not when you’re this wet for him, this desperate to finally feel him fill you up again, like you’ve fantasized for so long.

A strand of his hair falls into his face as he finally guides his cock inside of you, rubbing your clit as he thrusts in fully and bottoms out. You gasp at his size, almost having forgotten just how thick he is, the stretch making your head spin with pleasure. When he gauges your reaction, he begins to move with you slowly, giving gentle thrusts while you wrap your arms around his back.

The bed creaks as he moves in and out of your sopping pussy, emitting lewd sloshing sounds as he leans down to kiss you, your tongues and mouths doing much of the same. You can hardly kiss him back, your lips already dribbling strings of drool in fucked-out satisfaction from him filling you up like this.

“Fuck… baby… you’re so tight,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure.

“Feels so good,” you breathe back, gripping his shoulder a little bit when he picks up his pace. “No one fucks me the way you do,” you say to him, and his cock twitches inside of you at the admission.

“Fuck,” Minho says again. “I dreamt of you for so long,”

“Me too,” you say, reaching up to move a stray piece of hair out from in front of his eyes between your heavy breathing. “I wish I came looking for you again. God, I wasted so much time.”

Minho kisses you, burying his lips in the crook of your neck to caress the bruises he’s already left.

“I never stopped searching for you,” he breathes out against your skin. “It’s you, it’s always been you.”

His words make your heart flutter as he continues to thrust in and out of you, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with every thrust now. Your moans get louder as he picks up the pace, digging his nails into your waist as he holds you in place. Between kisses, he caresses your thigh with his hand, positioning it up and bending your leg at the knee beside him. You moan instantly at the new angle, his length caressing every inch of your pussy, his girth stretching you out with every thrust inside of you and tickling your pulsing clit as he moves against your hips.

“Good girl,” Minho says, smiling against you as he kisses you. “Take me so well.”

Your nails dig into his back as he thrusts a little faster now, the rhythmic motion sending shivers up your spine.

“I’m close,” you breathe out, and judging by the way Minho’s cock twitches inside of you, he is too.

“Will you do that thing again?” You ask in a shaky voice between moans, and Minho lets out a breathy chuckle.

“What thing, baby?”

But he knows very well what you’re referring to, having replayed it in his head every time he got off without you. You don’t respond to him, instead intertwining his hand in yours and bringing it down to your abdomen, where you sprawl his palm across your navel and give it a little push. Minho groans at the feeling of your warm abdomen under his palm, remembering the way you reacted last time. And he’s eager to please you, to do it exactly how you liked it before.

Without teasing you any further, Minho presses down on your stomach, observing the way you moan when he does, and then thrusts a little faster. He can feel his length sliding in and out of you under his touch, locking his gaze on the bulge in your abdomen that appears with every thrust.

“Min, I’m so close,” you say, gasping desperately and digging your nails into his back.

He presses down a little harder, burying his face in the crook of your neck and moving even faster, moaning every time he can feel himself move against your abdomen.

And as he brings his lips up to meet yours, you finally let go around him, making a mess of your sheets as you cum around his cock, your clit pulsing in syncopation with your entrance as he fucks you through your orgasm. Minho finishes just seconds after, emptying his milky white release inside of you, both your juices spilling into each other and coating the bed in your arousal. He doesn’t pull out immediately, slowing his thrusts for a few minutes as he kisses you much gentler this time, your lips still glistening with the exchange of saliva.

When he feels you shiver against him, Minho finally slides out, turning over to lay on his back and catch his breath. The two of you remain like that for a few minutes, catching your breath and wiping beads of sweat off your forehead as you do. After a moment of silence, he turns to you again, a worried expression on his face.

“I promise I didn’t come here to have sex with you,” Minho says. “I wasn’t lying about wanting to tell you all about it. I guess I just happened to-”

“Min, I know,” you say with a small smile. “I didn’t think that’s why you came here.”

He lets out a silent chuckle, and you mirror the action, smiling back at him before laughing silently. The two of you remain sore and wearied, your languid bodies a comfortable distance away from each other on the soiled duvet.

Still, Minho extends a hand out from beside you, palm facing up and shifting his gaze onto yours out of his peripheral vision.

Your hand meets his, intertwining your fingers together, the delicate embrace a reminder that he’s here, right where you left him.

“Can’t you just stay another week?” you say to Minho, leaning down to press another kiss to his already swollen lips.

You lie on top of him as he lays back on your couch, his hands tucking strands of hair behind your ear as he smiles up at you.

“It’s just for a little bit, I promise. I just have some unfinished business out there.”

“I don’t want to lose you again,” you say in a whisper, tracing the bridge of his nose with your fingertip.

“You won’t lose me,” Minho replies, his tone turning serious at your words. “You’ll never lose me.”

“What am I going to do without you?” You ask him, feeling yourself grow increasingly more panicked at the thought of being away from him again. You’ve spent the better part of three months searching for each other, desperate for some closure to this fleeting thing- and now he’s leaving, and you can’t help but feel like you’re doing something wrong by letting him leave like this.

“You’re going to be the woman you always have been,” Minho says with a smile, stroking your hair gently. “You’re going to work your job, and fix things and be absolutely remarkable wherever you go. And I’m going to finalize a few things out there and then meet you right back here in the city. And we’ll lie on this couch, and we’ll pick up right where we left off.”

You smile at him through pricking tears, feeling them begin to fall as he reaches a thumb up to wipe them off your cheek.

“Hey,” Minho says to you reassuringly. “You know- I was thinking a lot about the bar.”

You nod at him, trying to hold back the rest of your tears as he speaks.

“We have contract negotiations coming up next month. And I was thinking of… maybe…handing it off to Jeongin.”

You sit up a little, eyes widening at his words.

“Complete ownership? But you love that bar, Min.”

He shrugs a little, blinking a few times as he pauses.

“I want to cook. And I think being out here made me realize I need a change of pace again.”

“You mean like… moving out here? To the city?”

He lets out a breathy chuckle, throwing his head back a little before meeting your gaze again.

“Maybe. Just something I’ve been thinking about.”

You chuckle too now, cupping his face in your hands as you sit up to look at him.

“You know,” you begin, thinking for a second before continuing to speak. “This really cool bartender told me once that sometimes you have to go back and make amends before you can move forward again.”

His lips flicker down to your smile and back up to your eyes as you speak, a visible sparkle in your pupils as you look down at him. “Whatever you decide to do back there, I’m here with you when you go forward again. As a bartender, or a chef, or whatever you decide. I’ll be right where you left me.”

And he doesn’t have to ask you twice, knowing in his heart, you’re already here with him- every step of the way.

Minho leaves bright and early that morning, grasping your hand firmly in his as you make your way down the concrete steps of your apartment building to where his car is parked.

He looks more angelic than you’ve ever seen him, his smile illuminating the space around you as he holds you in his gentle embrace on the sidewalk. The two of you say nothing, only speaking through the tender touches of your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, face tucked in the crook of his neck as he holds you. He presses kisses to the top of your head, reminding you through hushed whispers that he’ll be back as soon as possible. And you know he will, feeling completely enveloped in his loving trust as he holds you, as he promises not to lose you again.

When he pulls away to look into your eyes, tears prick at the corners of your eyes for the third time this morning, and Minho chuckles lightly, reaching up to wipe them away with his thumb.

Before he can say anything, he feels it, finally.

The gentle caress of droplets on his face- not your tears, not his, but the sky above, showering you with little raindrops for the first time in three months and some days.

At first, Minho thinks he might be hallucinating it, when he looks up to squint his eyes back at the cloudy sky. You do the same, feeling the familiar kiss of raindrops on your skin. And then, as if the sky’s taking notice, it begins to pour, warm rain showering you both in the hazy atmosphere of the city sidewalk.

Minho laughs up at the sky, shaking his now damp hair as he looks down at you again. All this time he’s waited for the rain, thinking maybe he’d imagined it that night in the bar- the same night he ran into you. But as the raindrops graze his skin and glisten under the light of the city, he realizes it was very much real, as are you, standing right here in his arms. And like everything falls into place, so does the rain over the city, washing away the doubts he held onto for so long.

“It’s finally raining!” Minho exclaims, holding you closer to him as he tilts his face up to the sky again.

You watch him in admiration, laughing at the way he embraces the sudden downpour, also remembering the first night you met him because of the storm like this.

The city-dwellers around you begin to seek shelter under the cement roofs of the high rises, but you remain there on the sidewalk, warm in each other's embraces, content with the sudden turn of the weather. When he looks back down at you, his hair is now completely soaked, stringy pieces falling into his face as he continues to laugh.

“Minho,” you say through gentle laughter of your own. The rain comes down violently now, drenching the two of you as he holds you closer to him.

“Where have you been all my life?”

And he smiles down at you, the familiar beam of his giggle instilling the same safety and comfort as the first night you met in his bar.

“Right here,” Minho replies, leaning in to kiss you again.

“I’ve always been here.”

This time, you make no effort to escape the rain, comfortable in the way it looms over the city, much like how Minho looms over you- fortuitous, and with promises of new beginnings.

#skz smut #Lee know #Lee know smut #Lee know fic #stray kids hard hours #skz #stray kids #skz scenarios #stray kids x you #Lee minho #lee know scenarios #Lee know x reader #fanfic #smut #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #Spotify

940 notes · View notes

miyacults · 4 months

Text

red, blue and yellow lights.

( ft. satoru gojo. )

It’s hard to tell you a cold, numb no. How does Suguru has it in him to ever deny you anything and make you behave? Satoru doesn’t have that much power over you. Yet. It’s the other way around entirely. Usually, you have Satoru wrapped around your dainty fingers… but this time isn’t usual at all.

> part 2.

wc: 4k (unedited im soreeey)

cw: fem reader (afab). only gojo action here but poly satosugu is super implied. +18, explicit content. smut. minors do not interact. slight age gap, reader is younger than both of them but not much and is not stated at all. daddy kink and daddy dynamic so be careful!!! rough sex/rough satoru. manhandling. slight hints at dacryphilia. slight chocking. marking (one hickey). unprotected sex, p in v sex. little mention of blood. that should be all! enjoy <3

It was raining the first day it happened—sky practically crying at the sight of you three, already sinking down in the problems to come for such a reckless call. Satoru and Suguru are the strongest ones, so they know better and they pride themselves with this fact. They’re smarter than the rest, both devastatingly attractive, even more so than anyone could ever imagine and…simply superior. But the first time they didn’t knew better.

Or they didn’t care to.

The second time shouldn’t have occurred. They should’ve weighed into the idea of not stumbling upon the same rock again—but they did it nonetheless. How couldn’t they? When the rock herself got the touch of angels, the voice of the gods and a face made in heaven. Anyone in their right mind would have done the same.

And so the third and the fourth come, and suddenly they stop counting how many more times have they been opening the gates of hell for you three to freely wander—toying with the risk of losing it all, as sorcerers always do. Stumbling upon a path of no recovery, stranding themselves into a new kind of addiction capable of surpassing that of what power and glory and the god-like status they hold has been pumping their veins for a while now.

Satoru likes to share everything with Suguru. And Suguru likes to share everything with Satoru. Where one goes, the other follows. If Satoru likes it sweet, then Suguru deals with the bitterness, and if Suguru wants it that way, Satoru will pave it himself without a second thought. They’ve been complementing each other for so long, it was only natural for this to happen.

For you, to happen.

But even them have their own ways of becoming addicted to you.

“Please,” you’re saying—sobbing, actually, clenched teeth chirping, violent tremors ripping inside your chest, glimmering tears staining dainty features—and Satoru already feels the weight of guilt swallowing him whole. Tense lips press each other firmly in a straight line, azure eyes shutting together as lithe fingers ghost the overly sensitive skin of his neck. “Please, ‘Toru—”

“No.”

He needs you to shut up, fast.

The name—his name—is hanging dangerously at the tip of your tongue, too close to being spilled out loud, too close to make an even bigger mess than the one he’s already sitting himself on.

“I’ll be good, I promise,” you’re murmuring now against his sealed lips, small cries leaving your mouth, basically straddling his lap as you desperately try to adjust yourself over the growing bulge in his pants—bare, tight little cunt fluttering at the small friction. “I’ll behave, please, just let me ride your cock for a little while, please.”

“Oh, sweets,” Satoru heaves an exasperated sigh through a low, nervous chuckle, hands running through snowy hair crystal clear gaze finally fixing on you. “You’re gonna be the death of me one of these days, you know that? Suguru told me you were being a brat lately and I didn’t listen to him,”

He’s trying to play it off as best he can, sure, but this is adding up to his temper. His cock throbs painfully inside his trousers. He’s not even sure what time it is—maybe three, four in the morning? He doesn’t know. It’s quite hard to keep the track of time when you’re here to distract him of all the things he should be doing instead, when the blue cotton laced panties—the ones he gifted you like two weeks ago—that are supposed to be covering your greedy, insatiable pussy, are now stuffed in the pocket of his expensive, Tom Ford shirt.

It’s nearly impossible to focus when you’re rolling your hips, humping your needy clit and damping his pants with your juices, causing an unbearable explosion in his stomach, cock hard and full of precum you should be licking off of him.

You should be the one cleaning the mess, not him.

Satoru swallows dry, hands falling in a thump over the armchairs of the couch you’re both sitting at. It takes nearly all of his inhuman strength to keep them there, to not let them travel to the hem of your hiked up oversized shirt—Suguru’s shirt, if he recalls correctly—and place them over the heated flesh of your bare ass. It takes everything in him not to squeeze it, knead it, slap it until the skin is red and tender—an unique piece of art only he can make.

“Is that a yes?” You question eagerly, lashes fluttering and eyes sparkling in awe.

“No, baby.”

It’s hard to tell you a cold, numb no. How does ever Suguru has it in him to deny you anything? How does he ever gets you to behave, to make you an obedient good girl? Suguru had you perfectly trained, bunch of rules memorized and practically burned into the tissues of your brain you could recite them in your sleep.

That didn’t stop Satoru from spoiling you rotten, so much it’s a difficult task to fuck the brat out of you every time you spend a few hours alone with him (as Suguru likes to say)—but even if baby gets whatever she asks for during her time with the white-haired man, when she is back with Suguru what Daddy says goes, instantly.

Because you’re just too perfect for them. The apple of their eyes, their pretty baby, perfection in all senses. It makes it easy for you to be awfully good, to sit prettily in Satoru’s lap all the time, spreading kisses all over his face as his enamoured sapphire eyes don’t leave yours—to sleep almost every night attached to Suguru’s chest as if he’s the incarnation of the oxygen you need to breathe.

But even with all of that—Satoru doesn’t have the same power over you, at least not yet. You have Satoru wrapped around your dainty fingers, manicured nails scratching him in what could be a tantrum. He’s incapable of dealing with you all alone, unable to resist your charms, he fails and falls for you hard. You make him sick, you push him off his highs with a mere, chaste kiss, you leave him hopeless to find a cure—pretty, colored sweets popping inside his mouth all tasting of you.

You’re the most powerful drug he has yet to fully taste, a completely new disease that infects his body, mind and soul, so corrosive it sets him on fire and turn his bones into ashes.

“But ‘T—,” you begin, and he has to cut you off immediately, preventing his name to touch your parted lips.

The name is the key—his name in your saccharine sweet tongue is what will lock him away in the gates of the hell you’ve helped create yourself.

“No,” he chastises now rather severely, unnaturally serious for someone like him, hoarse voice sticking at his dry throat. He glances at you firmly as he feels too sober to maintain his posture, hands still refusing to touch you and lips moving away from yours by an inch. “Did you forget how grounded you are, silly baby?” He scoffs, sardonic grin breaking his rather angelic features and turning him into something darker.

You frown.

“I haven’t done anything wrong,”

“You did,”

“I did not”

“Oh, but you are,” Satoru’s tone falls an octave, and suddenly you shiver. You’ve heard about it a couple of times in the past—Suguru has mentioned how, from time to time, those heavenly features of him darken, but to you, that sounds so out of character. ‘Toru is bubbly and jolly and he likes to teased and he even has sweets for dinner with you. To you, that can’t be fully true, right?

His tense muscles relax a little, just a little, as his gaze is dangerously fixed on you. Salty tears wither in your lashes and your cheeks, swollen lips now pouting at him for his harsh accusation and his cold tone. “‘Cause you’ve been naughty, baby, haven’t you?” He insists.

Something definitely shifts, but you notice it. It goes from his flaming eyes to the icy touch, to the calm breathing—previously heavy—, to the devious smirk that tugs at the corner of his lips.

And you think about what it has been.

Usually, Satoru would have fallen by now. Usually, he would have been already caging you between the couch and his body, pounding into you and brushing your cervix with the head of his thick cock, slapping at your ass, pinching your tits and biting your lips until they’re swollen and bruised. Usually, he would have been chanting about how good you feel, how insane you drive him, how weak he is to you.

Usually, by this time, things would’ve been getting to an end. Suguru would have entered the living room of the big house they both own, would have probably lifted you like a ragdoll out of Satoru’s lap and would have scolded you for your little tricks, for seeking such a lewd activity when you’ve been recovering from the flu, for coaxing the Strongest into your desires. Usually, Satoru would have been scolded too by his best friend, and you would have cried his name while being carried into the bed where you most definitely would have got lectured for your little shenanigans.

But this isn’t usual at all.

“N-No,” you murmur, bleary-eyed gaze blinking at Satoru.

“You sure?”

You don’t know. Are you? Are you really sure you haven’t been naughty? You shouldn’t be chided for anything by Satoru, right? Because Suguru’s been in a really good mood lately, he even peppered you with kisses before bed, tugged you in with his favorite blanket before laying by your side, and before that he made you dinner and watched an episode of the show you’re currently catching on with you while eating together.

“Are—,” you begin, and for some reason you stumble on your words, unsure about how to proceed. Being talked to like that by Satoru was so strange, he never chastised, about anything, ever. All of a sudden you don’t feel so bold anymore, you’re not quite certain you’ll get away with yours this time—and suddenly, Satoru’s touch doesn’t feel warm, his arms no longer being your favorite, cozy shelter, transforming into something icy, devious, darker. “A–Are you mad at me, babe?”

“Oh yeah, babe,” He repeats slowly, slender fingers finding your thighs, adjusting his grasp on you for the first time, hands pressing your skin with a little bit more of force than needed. “You call me babe a lot, don’t you, pretty girl?”

You blink at him, head lolling to the side briefly. Little mewl of surprise scaping your lips due to how strong he’s gripping your thighs—pads digging the flesh and all.

“You don’t like it?”

“No, no, I do. Trust me, I do,”

“You want me to call you something else?”

He finds it amusing. The way your features crinkle in confusion, genuinely concerned for what he’s saying. It’s nice, he thinks, since he’s usually the one that’s dotting on you all the time—while you dot on your Daddy all the time.

“What is it that you call Suguru, sweetheart?” He asks almost conversationally, nose caressing your cheek delicately.

“Uh–huh,” you try to shift on his lap, backing a little from him, but Satoru catches you almost instantly—pushing your face against his torso forcefully. “He’s my Daddy,” you end up answering, voice a little muffled by his cashmere shirt.

And he yanks you up without notice, and you whine at the sudden movement.

“Mean” you scoff, the base of your hair being found by his ivory fingers. He catches the strands between them and tugs a little. “So mean!”

“Oh, I’m mean, I’m super mean,” he agrees with a devilish smile spreading from the tip of his lips to his full face. “But you know what you are? An ungrateful brat. And do you know what happens to spoiled, rude and ungrateful brats? They get punished by their daddies,”

You open your mouth to respond, but you don’t get a chance to as he lifts both of you up from the couch and pushes you over the marble counter of the kitchen, whole body against the cold, solid surface. The action alone knocks a little cry from your chest, glistening tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. And he coos at the sight, he mocks you, looks and talks to you in such a patronizing way you’re complaining about how he can’t scold you, that he’s not Suguru.

“You’re not my D—,”

“Go on, finish that sentence, I dare you,” he warns, azure eyes going completely dark as he hovers over you, steady hands ripping you off of Suguru’s shirt. “I’ll make sure you’re not able to sit straight for a month,”

This time, you’re the one that swallows dry.

And, oh, the way your heart pounds violently inside your rip cage. The way your cunt throbs at the mere image of Satoru stripping himself off his clothes and his dreamy blue eyes don’t move an inch from you, the way your tummy flutters and heat descends all over your now naked body in awe—eagerly expecting his touch, awaiting for him, wanting him to take his way and completely obliterate you.

It’s exciting to push the boundaries a little, test the limits of what’s known and jump into the void. It’s dangerous—with Satoru, it’s unbelievably deadly—, but it sends sparks through your veins. It makes your heart roll, makes you want him even more than before.

You sniff, remnants of tears drying your heated cheeks and little squeals still rumbling through your throat.

“Aw, made our sweet princess cry,” Satoru coos at you, freeing his cock out of his trousers—and it’s worth drooling for, in all honesty, with his rosy pink shade and his angry blushed tip, with his irregularly large violet-like veins adorning both sides, and specially with the dim precum that shines beautifully under the kitchen lights.

He gives it a few pumps, and you can’t help but make grabby hands at him—whiny pout morphing your lips as the sobs return, but this time far from covering up the pain, tears now cracking neediness.

“I want you,” you hiccup as he gets closer, grabbing his shoulders as he positions himself over you.

And you feel him, ghosting the tip of his throbbing cock at your little hole, cold digits caressing your breasts—thumbs rolling your nipples and stealing a soft moan from your lips that Satoru catches quickly with his mouth, merging the two of you in a harsh kiss.

“Mhm,” he’s saying and you yelp, teeth biting at your swell and it’s rough, salty, streaks of crimson with a taste of iron coating him. “Now you want me? But I don’t think you deserve it at all,”

“‘Toru—,”

One slap, straight to your thigh.

“That’s not my name, is it?”

You’ve never felt this kind of exciting fire with him before. It had never been so…primal, so needy, so desperate, entire body jolting in anticipation and tummy in knots out of anticipation. It makes your heart vibrate rapidly behind the ribs, mouth practically watering at the sight of him spiraling in such a state because of you.

“You’re not gonna say it?” He insists, tongue catching your nipple. It’s cold and it sends shivers down your spine, provoking delicious shrieks that resonate in his ears and make his blood run faster. He drives the tip of his cock from the entrance, collecting all your juices and directing it to your puffy clit, all to start circling around the bud—one, two, three, four and more times in a nonstop motion.

It’s has you on edge, really. Body trembling and mind going hazy—all the previous lazy dry humping finally getting to your nerves, pussy clenching the air and hot breath colliding viciously against the lanky man.

“Please,” you beg, quivering under his touch. “Please, ‘Toru, I need you,”

“Not my name, sweet thing,” he sighs in a disappointed tone and, for a moment, you think he actually sounds sorry to prolongue this. But you know he isn’t. Not even close, not even a little bit. “Use the right word and maybe I’ll consider letting you cum tonight,”

The word is there, truth be told, dancing curiously at the insides of your mouth, gagging you up and completely searing his whole name.

It’ll just take a little push to make it go out.

“I—I,”

“Say it,” his hand runs to your neck, fingers wrapping around it and mouth printing an obscure mark to your chin—sucking violently at the skin, a combination of gritted teeth and bloodied lips.

He doesn’t stop the movements of his cock on your clit for a second, and you know he’s starting to get too sensitive himself—cracked groans rumbling from his chest, sloppy hips rolling and nearly slipping inside of your cunt once and for all. Your blood rushes to your ears, eyes shutting close as a new sobs rip through parted lips and delicated nails scratch the skin of his broad shoulders. Heat builds in your belly and you know you’re close—so close to cumming around nothing, merely by the fast friction of his throbbing cock over your clit.

And he notices it at the same you do, so he pulls out and flips you over the marble counter before you can reflect on what he’s doing.

“N–No! Sator—,”

“How empty is that pretty little head of yours, uh?” Condescending. His voice his painfully condescending, and so is his touch, so are his hands smacking your ass as the side of your face hits the counter. “You’re not cumming until you say the word,”

It’s a simple word, four letters that you have to spill, wrap your skilled tongue around it and push it through your swollen lips and into his ears. That is all you have to do. So you do.

“Daddy!” You finally yelp, vocal chords shaking the word out like a quake. It’s pathetic, even, how five simple letters merge into cries, becoming an incoherent mess that all can do is say it repeatedly. Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy. The name buries deeply in his ears and finds a home in the roots of his heart, forcing an explosion of something he can’t quite describe onto his veins. It reduces him to ashes, it revolves everything in his mind and suddenly—suddenly he’s back in control, suddenly he’s not a wandering dog anymore begging go you, suddenly he doesn’t turn into pieces for you to pick up.

Still, you drive him insane. Still, he’s weak to you. But you’re no longer in control and that fuels him like nothing will ever do.

And all your babbling keeps you from catching on his moves until he’s already sinking in your cunt roughly. You sob at the intrusion, pain exploding in your stomach and ache consuming you by the burning stretch.

“S-So good, baby, my baby is so good,” is all he grunts out, pressing his forehead into the back of your head.

He fucks you raw, more than he has ever done before. He fucks you so hard your limbs go numb and the only thing that stays clearly in your mind is that he’s also your Daddy now. He thrusts his hips into yours intensely, so much he basically has you bouncing the marble, and you scream so much it wouldn’t be a surprise if Suguru runs out of the room to make sure no one is slaughtering you, their sweet little princess.

It doesn’t take much after that for you to let go, with body and cervix bruised by his hands and cock, cumming within minutes of hips thrusting into your tiny hole. And he fucks you full of his cum, too. Too many times for you to properly remember the exact number, too much that you feel it dripping from your cunt, all over your thighs and into the counter—marble stained with the sticky substance. And he doesn’t stop at that, either, not until your face, your breasts, your belly and both your holes are so full of his cum you’re close to drooling it, too.

.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀♡⠀⠀⠀.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀♡⠀⠀⠀.

“You left a whole damn hickey on her face, dude,” Suguru’s snickering and he sounds so grumpy as he checks out your sleeping figure curled around his torso, sulky eyes finding the ones of his best friend to recrminate not so silently. “I’m not even that sure is a hickey. That looks like a goddamn punch straight to the jaw,” He then glances down at Satoru, who leans against the wall of the living room, eyebrows raised and lips chopping mindlessly around a cigarette. “Did you punched my baby?”

“Shut up,” Satoru snorts, crystal eyes rolling in annoyance. “Aren’t ya seeing that smile on her face? She’s sleeping like a baby, thanks to me. And she finally has some respect for me, so, we both win,”

“Pretty sure she had things to do early today,” Suguru mumbles, one hand holding the cigarette and the other mindlessly caressing your back above the shirt—Satoru’s shirt now—that covers your frame. “And in the afternoon, too. Guess we gotta let her sleep,”

“Agree,” Satoru walks to both of you, a shit eating grin flashing his features. “Let her rest and gain some energy. She’ll need it to give a warm morning to her favorite Daddy,”

And Suguru has something to say about that—because he’s sure his the favorite Daddy. But now Satoru thinks the same, too.

803 notes · View notes

ilovebuckers5 · 4 months

Text

·:*¨༺ Vacation ༻¨*:·

paige bueckers x reader

summary - you take paige and her team to a lakeside cabin for a vacation

warnings:

-smut

-minors dni

authors note - this is only my second time writing smut so don't judge if it's bad or something

Qadence made the final shot in the last 2 seconds and just like that, the uconn women's basketball team won another game. i immediately rose from my seat and cheered loudly.

my eyes switched from the score board to qadence to paige faster than ever. as i looked down at the blonde from the bleachers i saw that she already looking at me.

me and paige had been dating for 3 months now but it felt like i had know her my entire life. her blue eyes stared at me while a smile was plastered on her pretty face. even sweaty and panting, she is the most beautiful girl i've ever layed my eyes on.

the entire team walked around the bleachers high fiving fans and signing sweatshirts. instead of rushing down the steps to give my girlfriend my attention, i watched from atop and waited until the team was back in the locker room. paige kept glancing at me with a confused look as she took photos with her fans and all i did was smirk back at her.

after the crowd had settled down a bit i pushed through a couple groups of people and went straight around all the security to get to the team.

my friendship with the entire team was more popular now that me and paige were together. At first there were a couple pictures of me hugging caroline and aubrey but it quickly escalated to things like pictures of me and paige kissing and videos of after game celebrations (mainly posted by azzi).

this time no one saw me rushing to the lockers so no new pictures for a couple days hopefully. as i made my way to the girls i was trying to think of how to celebrate this win. it was a 34 point difference so it felt like just going out for drinks was underwhelming.

i walked through the opening to see the group of girls jumping around and squealing while also getting changed. my eyes quickly found paige and stuck as i walked up to her. i couldn't help but place a kiss on her lips. she gasped under her breath at me being so bold and swift but she quickly relaxed and kissed back. i pulled away slowly and pulled her back into a hug, wrapping my arms around her back.

"you did so good baby"

she laughed a little and dug her nose in between my neck and ear to hide her red face. usually me and paige wouldn't do a lot of public kisses and flirting but i physically couldn't resist from smashing my lips against hers.

the entire team pretended to ignore us and kept on getting their clothes changed. finally i pulled away and turned around to find a mirror to make sure my lipstick wasn't smudged.

after the team got changed and were ready to leave i looked around suspiciously before grabbing paige's hand and rushing out of the doors into the parking lot. my hand was glued to hers for the rest of the night.

paige laughed as i practically dragged her out of the locker room. a couple laughs left both of ours mouths once we actually got outside and realized it was raining.(did i bring her out there to see her with wet hair? yes i did)

"i have a surprise for you paige."

the blondes eyebrows furrowed inwards as she tilted her head to the side. i had a large smile plastered on my face. our eyes were locked together, almost having a conversation without speaking.

without hesitation paige placed her hands on my hips and pressed me against her car door and shaheed her lips against mine. a quick groan left my mouth at her touch. her hands roamed at my sides "what was that surprise huh?"

i slowly reached into my purse and pulled out a business card that had the address for a lakeside cabin that was luckily only a couple hours away.

"what? how did you-"

i cut her excitement off quickly.

"i have my ways"

i turned my head around to hide my smirk. she aggressively pushed her body against mine, pulling me into a tight hug. paige had been talking about this cabin for the past three weeks so i took this ein as an opportunity to take her there. this was the first time she got all giddy and truly giggly around me since her birthday party. i laughed at her embrace before pulling her arms off of me.

"ok we have to keep this a secret from the team be wise if they hear they will-"

"want to come with?"

i hear a familiar voice come from my right ear. There Azzi was standing with almost the entire team next to her. they heard everything so i guess they were coming with to.

a couple hours later chaos struck. we were all back at the house and everyone was packing as if we were staying for three years. but i won't leave out the fact that i did pack 15 different outfits for a 6 day trip. instead of packing and stressing in silence i played some dominic fike just to lighten the mood. i sat down on the couch scrolling on instagram waiting for another girl to ask where shoes were.

while i was zoned out on a rampage that someone made about paige (speak of the devil) she snuck up behind me and layed a couple of kisses along my neck.

"what're you looking at huh?"

my fingers quickly switched off of instagram to my homescreen. my hands went sweaty along with my forehead.

"nothing."

i sah without looking back at paige. she walked around the arm of the couch and sat down next to me. her hands made their way to my thigh and began to run up and under my shorts. i gently but down my lip, still trying to not look at paige's icy blue eyes to prevent myself from folding. paige leaned in close tto my ear.

"how long do you stalk those little....accounts?"

she whispered in my ear. my heart stuttered, even though she was my girlfriend and not my crush i always found myself getting nervous when her husky voice was let out. i'm positive she was doing that on purpose. i let out a stifled sigh and end the tension by standing up.

"was that...nika calling for me? hold on i'll be right back i think uhm nika needs me over there"

i chuckle softly and try to play it off like i wasnt soaked right now. as i rushed down the hallway into nikas room, i could see out the corner of my eye that paige was staring at my ass. a wave of redness came over my face once i caught her. i step into nikas room and shut the door quickly before giving up and letting gravity pull me down to the end of her bed.

after staying in nikas room for a little while and watching her frantically pack, everyone was done packing and ready to get on the road. it was around 4 by now so we would probably get to the cabin later at night since it was a whole 3 hours away.

all the girls got into their assigned cars. aubrey,caroline,me,paige,azzi, inês, jana, and ice were in one mini van while amari,nika,qadence,kk, ayanna, ashlynn, and aaliyah were in another.

the hours went by quickly with the right amount of music and arguments on breakfast foods. next thing you know we were at the cabin. the air was fresher than on campus. it was just us girls there. no other strangers no other people. this was the only group of girls that got each-other and knew almost every detail about each-others lives. we all felt extremely comfortable with each-other. once we got to the destination and parked and all that other stuff, everyone claimed rooms and fell asleep quickly.

i attempted to go to sleep in my own bed but it felt weird without paige. i gently slipped on a pair of socks and snuck over into paige's room. trying not to wake her up, i slipped under her arms becoming the little spoon for the rest of the night.

the next morning the first thing i noticed when my eyes actually started to open was the sun peering through the curtains of a huge window. i rubbed my eyes open and stretched my arms out slowly. the first thing i did. was gena my phone to check the time and my expression switched quickly when i read the time.

"11 am what the fuck!"

i stood up and darted across the room, through the hallway, and to the main living room that was next to the kitchen. the smell of pancake batter and bacon lingered in the air. i looked around and saw everyone sitting around just talking. plates were scattered across the tables and counters.

"thank you guys for waking me up!"

a sarcastic tone "accidentally" slips out of my words. still irritated, i sat myself down on the couch and layed my head back. i noticed a presence behind me and as i was about to be pissy at whoever was behind me, paige's hands began rubbing my shoulders and collarbones.

i let my head rest further back just enough to graze her stomach. she looked down at me with her icy blue eyes and smiled softly. how could i stay pissed when she kept piercing me with those godamn eyes.

she walked over to sit down next to me and her hand almost immediately was glued to my thigh. her thumb rubbed back and forth over my skin that was peeking through my pajama shorts.

"can we go swimming today baby?"

i said turning my head to face hers and leaning in closer to her ear.

"of course we can"

paige leaned on my shoulder while her hands wrapped around my waist. just as my eyes were closing, caroline popped up infront of me holding a plate with pancakes and bacon on it. without speaking, i give caroline a thank you look and take the plate.

finally i slipped into my bathroom and put on a two piece bikini that was a pale pink color. i let my hair out of the recked ponytail it was in. and throw in some dry shampoo before grabbing the sunscreen and heading outside.

outside there were a couple chairs that one of the girls set out the night before. i set my sunscreen and towel on a red chair and dipped my feet in the water slowly. before i could even get my other foot in, i saw paige leap into the water (managing to splash an insane amount of water on me.)

"hey! did you put on sunscreen?"

i didnt even sorry about the fact that i was completely soaked, only about the fact that paige burns very easily.

paige stopped her playful water splashing to side eye me. taking care of her skin wasn't exactly her strong suit.

"c'mere"

paige sulks and drags herself out of the water. i empty out the red chair and sit in it before tapping my lap, motioning for paige to sit down. i gently rubbed sunscreen on her back even though she kept trying to wriggle out of the grip i had on her waist.

------------------------------------------------------------

after a lot of splashing water, dancing, trying water aerobics, and almost drowning eachother, most of the girls went back inside to dry off. it was around 2 pm now and me and paige couldn't bring ourself to get out of the water.

right now she had her arms wrapped around my waist and her fingers were messing around with the strings that hung off of my bikini bottoms. her chin was on top of my head and our legs were intertwined under the water.

"paige can we do something....i guess try something"

me and paige were together for almost 4 months now and the most we had done was making out. everytime we would try to do more it would get interrupted.

"what's in mind princess"

i could tell that paige was purposely trying to get me to say it just to tease me. i sigh loudly and turn around to face my girlfriend.

"your really gonna make me say it p"

paige nodded silently with a smirk plastered on her face.

"can we just go deeper in the water for a little bit paige"

i could tell that she was holding back a huge outburst of laughter. she placed her hands under my thigh and lifted my legs around her waist. she carried me further in the water so that only our chests were above water.

while she still had a grip under my thighs, she layed me down against the water to get my head wet before quickly bringing me back up and into her lips. a small gasp left my mouth once the cold water touched my head. i moved my hands around the back of her neck, twisting my head to side just enough for our noses to wedge together perfectly.

paige slowly but surely moved her lips down to my exposed neck and gently bit around the skin, sendjng small whines out of my lips. i threw my head back and gave her more room to work her lips around.

this is usually where we would have to stop, either because i got scared or someone would walk in on us. but that definitely wasn't the case right now. i felt paige's hands tease around the hem of my bikini bottoms, rolling the edge down a bit to expose a little bit more of my hip.

her lips made their way back up to mine while she worked her way down into my bottoms. she started rubbing my clit with her thumb, already forcing stifled moans out of my throat.

she parted her lips for her tongue to slip out and against mine. as our tongues mingled and twisted together she began circling her thumb faster before dipping two fingers in me. i felt her finger pumping in and out at a steady pace. her lips were still attached to me while she brought me close to my climax.

"fuck"

paige took that a sign to go a little faster. while she practically swallowed every moan and whine i let out, i began bucking my hips against paige's hand. my bikini bottoms had made they're way down my thighs, giving paige more room to work with.

my legs wrapped tighter around paige's waist as i came for the first time. strings of curse words left my mouth mixed with her name.

i noticed paige slowing her pace and coming to a stop.

"paige please..."

i whined in her ear after pulling my lips off of hers. all i could see was a strong smirk on paiges face. she kept her fingers in me but stayed still, forcing me to ride them.

i began grinding my hips against her fingers. just as i was about to speed up, i felt paige's hand grip on my waist and slow me down. nothing could explain how badly i wanted to go faster but i couldn't deny paige's touch.

she moved her fingers around inside me, teasing through my folds. even though her hand was basically sitting still it felt like she was doing this to me.

once i reached my second orgasm she started guiding my through it again. using her hand to speed up my hips. i let out a louder moan and prayed that we were deep enough in the lake for no one to here me.

finally, my thighs released the tight grip they had around paige's hips. she slowly took out her fingers but kept them under water. i gently pulled up my swim suit bottoms and brought my legs down to rest.

"you did so good baby"

i whispered against her neck while floating back to the cabin. i placed a couple kisses against her flushed lips knowing that i would repay the favor later tonight.

#paige bueckers #paigebueckersxreader #uconn wbb #uconhuskies #smut #basketball

364 notes · View notes

cheriladycl01 · 5 months

Text

Ghost - Oscar Piastri x UnknownDriver! Reader Part 2

Plot: Reader is the first female F1 driver of the century, however no-one knows that as you are a ghost on the grid. You started in 2022, coming in P12 in the championship. You get moved to Red Bull Racing in 2023 with the off year for Sergio Perez.

Credit to yrsonpurpose for the GIF

"Ghost, Radio Check Please" you engineer says as you pull from the pits.

You hadn't got a win yet, of course you'd had many podiums. Some even last year when you were with Alpine, more this year with Red Bull.

You wanted the win, even though it meant showing who you were and that came with a price, you felt ready. You just needed a reason to come forward with it.

However, even with Oscar's assuring words earlier in the day your P15 start because of the way qually went for you didn't feel like a win was applicable.

"Check" you say before driving out of the pits and into P15 behind Sargent and in front of Tsunoda. You really though that today might be the day and it would have been iconic it being your home Grand Prix and all. But it just didn't look possible when you weren't even in the middle sector of the grid.

You released a big breath as the red lights went out, you dived forward taking over Sargent gaining one place. Esteban who was ahead of him, seeing your Red Bull immediately forgot about Stroll ahead of him and starting defending against you.

For the first 14 laps, in your sector there weren't many changes in positions. Up ahead you had no idea what the grid looked like. But nothing much had changed behind you.

It wasn't until you could feel your tires both getting warn out and starting to struggle with the typical UK drizzle that was upon the race.

"Need to pit soon, cars getting harder to manage with the rain" you admit, knowing that the pit crew already probably have the intermediate tires ready for you.

"Pit on the next lap. Max will pit after you" he advises. However as your coming into the pits, you can see that Vertsappens Red Bull is currently there having its tires changed.

"What the fuck is going on?" you ask pulling up behind Max just as he leaves making you pull forward.

"Copy" is all you get and you let out a frustrated sound that was between a yell and a grunt.

Red Bull made up for it with an exceptionally quick stop for you and you got out on the track again. Luckily, others had pitted as well due to the weather conditions, so you came back out in P15.

"Look, I'm sorry about the incident Christian and the strategists are looking into it but there something I got to ask you, because clearly these methods are no longer working!" you hear you engineer say, you ignore him for a split second taking the corner before you throw back your moody reply.

"What?"

"Who runs the world?" he asks and a smirks comes onto your face. Lewis may have hammer time, but boy oh boy...

"Girls, John, Girls run this mother fucker" you shout into the radio before breaking late and overtaking Lance who was the unfortunate soul currently trying to defend from your driving.

You gain further up, Ocon ahead of you.

"Gap to Ocon?" you ask.

"0.3" you hear, you drive up so your behind him, you swerve the tiniest bit right, he does the same making for a accelerated swerve from you to the left and a clean move up to P12. And just like that you started combing through the grid, Hulkenberg, Gasly, Alonso, Albon, Russell, Sainz and Leclerc all got combed through until you were sitting sweetly in P5, Max, Lando, Lewis and Piastri just ahead.

"Lewis and Piastri are ahead. Fighting for P3, if you catch them both by surprise thats a podium. Gap is 1.2 seconds. Increase on Sector 2"

"Copy that" you say, both the McLaren and Mercedes drivers once you get closer to them are dancing around each other slipping in and out of P3.

"Like two ostriches doing a tango up ahead John" you laugh into the radio.

Just as you manage to overtake the two distracted drivers down the small straight John comes back onto the radio.

"Max has damage to his car. He had to come pit and he's currently P9. You can win this, go prove Beyonce right" he says, this was all you needed. You were currently P2, Lando the only driver ahead of you and thanks to the straight a significant gap had been created between you and Lewis and Oscar.

"Distance to Lando"

"2.4 seconds, speed up that Sector 3 now and you've got him. He's on the newer tires but you can get him. Bring it home" he tells you and you go very serious. No thoughts just the track, you catch up to Lando within a lap, fighting with him for P1.

"Max has climbed back, he's P5 and Oscars trying to defend" you engineer says, you didn't currently care about how close Max was to you, just getting that stream on Lando that would get you the overtake.

SKYSPORTS LIVE: David Croft- Can i just say Martin todays race has been one of the best of the season, for some reason we haven't been allowed to aire the radio between Ghost and his engineer but whatever was said... he's had an amazing drive today, going from P15 all the way to P2 and potentially P1 depending how Norris actually ends up defending against him. Its just been tremendous Martin Bundle- Yes its been amazing from Ghost's comeback to, Lewis a 7 time world champ struggling to overtake and defend the current rookie on the grid, to Max Verstappen reporting car issues, to the lack of DNF's we've had here today at Silverstone David Coft- Oh my lord whats this? He's going for the overtake

Lando goes too wide, his wheel clipping against the track edging making you be able to accelerate past as he struggles to re-gain control.

You manage to get a good gap ahead around corners that prove difficult for the McLaren now behind you.

"One lap Ghost, hold" John advizes and you keep driving, the last lap feeling like a cool down, the sweat drenching all around you due to the panic and sheer oomph of the driving conducted today.

SKYSPORTS LIVE: David Croft- AND WITH THAT FOLKS, WE HAVE THE FIRST WIN FROM GHOST WINNER OF THE SILVERSTONE 2023 GRAND PRIX, LANDO NORRIS BEHIND HIM AND OH MY GOSH A LAST MINUTE OVERTAKE FROM HAMILTON MEANING A TRIPLE PODIUM HERE FOR BRITAIN! Martin Bundle- What a day here at Silverstone, and now three brits are on the podium at their home race

You took yourself out the car, handing the wheel to a Red Bull member before pulling yourself with the halo to stand on the front of the car. John and a few other members pull you down to celebrate with them, before you are ushered off to be weighed.

The cool down room was awkward as you could never speak to the people in there, so you would shake hands before excusing yourself. You took the balaclava off, before tucking your hair in and placing your helmet back over your head.

Now it was time for the podium! Your first winning trophy and you couldn't be more excited, nothing could bring down you mood!

Or so you thought.

You went onto the stage, knowing this was the reveal. You and Christian had spoken about it, knowing your first win was inevitable.

"Today has been a historic day at Silverstone. Not only do we have three Brits standing proud on their home podium, we've had one of the biggest comeback of the year today, despite the mistimed pitstops and the weather, he has pulled his first win out of the bag!" an announcer says coming onto the stage.

"Before we go any further Christian Horner would like to say a few words" an announcer admits, Lewis and Lando turn to you excited to finally see the person behind the helmet. Lando had this running joke that you must be obscenely ugly which is why the helmet is kept on because 'Ghost' is intimidated by him and all the other attractive faces present on the grid.

"Hello everyone. Today doesn't just mark historic reasons for the ones just said. Ghost joined us at the end of the 2022 season when we brought them out of their 2 year contract with Alpine, there was ability and promise there that the team didn't want to both miss out on or go to an enemy team and become a menace on the grid. However, Alpine let a few of us at Red Bull in on Ghost's little secret and to say we were excited was an understatement. This year they have proved their worth and i cant wait for their future at Red Bull. That being said, i think its about time i introduce you to Ghost" he says gesturing towards you.

"This is Y/N Y/L/N" he shouts as you take of the helmet displaying your face to the world. Not only could gasps be heard from the drivers right next to you but from the whole crowd not expecting this outcome.

Lando was in a state of shock, he didn't know what would unveil from that helmet but Oscars longtime crush Y/N Y/L/N the sweet Social Media Manager for Ghost was not one of them.

He was confused at how she had managed to pull of this double life, but ultimately was so happy. This was an important day for her, being the first female to ever win a F1 race.

His eyes flicked down to Oscar in the McLaren section as he'd promised to come watch his best friends win, even if he wasn't up there with him. Lando's gaze met his and there were too many emotions upon the usually chill and placid male that he couldn't dechiper what he was feeling.

There was anger, sadness, frustration, betrayal. And he could have sworn, there were a couple of tears brimming the edges. Lewis had you pulled into a hug right now, congratulating you for everything you've achieved up until now, as all of your achievements were bigger and meant more.

As you went to turn to Lando to pull him into a hug, seeing as you guys were friends as yourself, but seeing his gaze fixed on Oscar a feeling of hurt formed in your chest. His gaze locked onto you and the force of his anger and betrayal could have knocked you back.

He ran off into the crowd back towards the paddock, you wanted to go follow but Lando shook his head. As much as this had hurt Oscar, you deserved to enjoy this moment.

But knowing you'd hurt Oscar, you didn't enjoy a single moment.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri f1 #oscar piastri x reader

485 notes · View notes

enwoso · 1 month

Text

ON EDGE - ella toone

navigation

a little bit suggestive content!

ella was on edge. she had been a nervous reck all week, ever since she found out that this was the weekend that she was going to be meeting your family for the first time. she was trying to downplay it by saying that she wasn't nervous but you could see straight through that false persona she was acting out.

you had met ella's family, a few months into you and ella dating — it being after one of the derby games and considering they lived in manchester and the pair of you were playing for united well let's just say you had clicked very fast.

you were nervous the first time you met her family — it was a normal thing so you totally understood why she was acting the way she was.

you had the job all week of constantly assuring ella that she had nothing to worry about, your parents had heard all about ella — they felt as if they already knew everything about the brunette without even fully meeting the girl properly.

hearing the way you talk about the girl and how much adored her, and all the small little cute things ella would do for you to make you feel like the most special girl in the world. they had heard it all and to point out the obvious your whole family were also football fans so at least you would all have something to talk about over dinner.

your also had two brothers, tommy who was the oldest out the three of you by 2 years always trying to take the role of being the boss and then there was your younger brother lewis who had just turned 19 and behind you was probably the biggest football fan in the family.

your brothers both didn't and refused to believe you at first when you said that you were signing for united they thought you were just playing into the silly rumours that the transfer pages were spreading about you at the time.

even after the multiple instagram posts on the united's official instagram page with you being in the official kit they for some reason wouldn't believe you. you knew they were just doing it to wind you up and it was times like those that made you really wish you were an only child.

your mum and dad — specifically your mum who you were adamant was more excited to finally meet ella in person then she was to see her own daughter.

ever since you let it slip that you had a girlfriend over the phone just a few weeks into your relationship with ella, you had been bombarded with messages from both parents asking when they would finally meet her in person.

you on the other hand were excited for your two worlds to finally meet not having seen your parents in 3 months since they were last able to find the time to get down to manchester to watch you play as they lived in london

which did make it difficult for them to watch but you knew they were always your biggest supporter weather they were in attendance or not.

you had been waiting for this day to come for what felt like years having to reschedule many times due to last minutes meetings, training camps, match days or press days it had become quite difficult to even set out a day and part of you at one point was convinced it would never happen.

you wanted your parents to meet ella properly and not on the side of a pitch in the porting rain while you both looked tired and longed for nothing but a warm shower.

so when the idea of your family finding a few spare days where they were able to come up and stay with you and your beloved girlfriend and even the plus side of watching you play again in person seemed like the perfect way.

after just getting out of the shower, you were drying your hair as the door of your shared room flung open as ella waltzed in and you could tell her mind was racing.

"what's wrong, darling?" you asked turning the hair dryer off, and swinging around in the vanity chair to face ella who had flopped down on the bed face first, letting a huge dramatic sigh out.

"nothin'" she mumbled out, it being blurred out by the fact she was talking into the bed sheets. a small giggle left your lips at the sight of her dramatics.

"love c'mon, your gonna be fine!" you said moving the chair closer to the bed, pulling at her ankles to pull ella down the bed as she groaned trying to move back up the bed.

ella turned over onto her back, "i am fine, i'm cool, calm and collected!" she sat up and flashed you a smile before crashing back into the sheets her hands going up to cover her face, a loud groan coming from her as she did so.

"so which one was that cool, calm or collected?" you joked earning yourself a roll of the eyes from the brunette as you moved off the chair and onto your shared bed lying down next to ella.

a big huff was heard from beside you as her hands dropped from her face and turned her head to you, "i've decided i can't meet your parents" ella says talking quicker then you can comprehend what she is actually saying — here we go again.

"what? why this time?" you ask, this being the hundredth time it felt that she was trying to get out of meeting your family.

"i just can't, i'll just say up here and you can tell them i'm-" footballers these days not only dramatic on the pitch but even more dramatic off the pitch and over the smallest of things ever.

you cut her off, "els! baby you'll be fine they love you already and they haven't even met you properly, plus i don't think my mum will be happy if she turns up and your not here with me — she more excited to see you then she is me!" you told her as a small smile crept onto her face.

"she is?" she asks, seeming surprised by you saying that.

"yes! every message i get from her always involves your name too — how are you and ella, don't forget to tell ella i said hi all that jazz, half the time she doesn’t even ask about me!" you said telling her only a few of the messages your received on the daily from your mum.

it sometimes amazes you how she can be so calm over playing a match in front of thousands of people but then can go to acting like a scared child over meeting your parents.

"oh.." she mumbled that seemingly put some ease to her nerves.

a silence crept over the two of you as your wrapped your arm over ella's waist, "what?" you asked feeling ella's eyes staring at you.

"nothin’ you just look pretty" she shook her head, rolling over so that she hovered over you looking at you with nothing but adoration even if your hair was half dry and half wet in ella's eyes you always looked beautiful.

a small giggle left your lips as you hummed in response your eyebrows lifting a little, "wait a second" ella said still hovering over you this time a little closer to your face.

"why?"

"i just need-" she cut herself off by closing the distance between the two of you, pressing you a little deeper into the white sheets as her lips locked with yours delivering a bruisingly passionate kiss. "-to do this" the brunette breathed out finishing her sentence while giving you a moment to catch your breathe.

just as her hand gripped your jaw and tugged your mouth to meet hers again. you couldn't help but moan into her mouth as she pressed her body closer to yours her knee pressing teasingly into you as she slipped her tongue in and swirled it around.

the midfielder knowing exactly how to rile you up as she sucked down hard on your bottom lip as your head pressed into the bed further with a beefy whine.

not even giving you a moment to process anything she pulled away and lips instead began to move down towards your neck pressing small and soft kisses as she did so.

her affections were clearly needy and messy as her fingers snuck up the inside of your t-shirt, her strong hands flattening against the bare skin and pushing you harder into the bed so she felt your and contract and tense under her every touch.

"els-" you mumbled out against her lips pulling away from her as best you could, "i need to finish getting ready" you said as ella pulled away resting her head on your shoulder.

"can we not just stay like this" she asks as she wraps her arms around your waist holding you tight as she places a small kiss behind your ear.

"as much as i would love too, me and you both know we can't" you smile kissing her forehead as she lifts up off you as you stood up to go back to drying your hair before it became too frizzy knowing it wouldn't be long until your parents and brothers would be here.

"wait, love-" ella began but before you even gave her a chance to get her worry out you stopped her.

"love, stop stressing. i'm not feeding you to the lions i'm gonna be there with you, holding your hand if you want me too!" you teased reaching over to squeeze her knee in reassurance as you got back to doing what you were previously doing beforehand.

as ella whispered that she was going to watch tv downstairs, placing a kiss to your cheek before leaving you to get ready in peace.

after getting ready you went downstairs to find ella sat on the couch her leg bouncing up and down, flinching at any sudden movement thinking it was the sound of the door.

when there was a knock at the door, she jumped up following you to the door like a little lost puppy

"oh thank god this is your house!" your brother sighed with relief walking straight into your home, not saying hello to you but instead making sure to introduce themselves to your girlfriend — at this point you were sure they had only come to see her. you could leave in that moment and they probably wouldn't even notice.

"hi tommy!" you said blankly, watching as he walked down your hallway throwing his arm up at an attempt to wave, you turning your attention to your parents and younger brother who had his headphones in looking down at his phone probably not even realising that you had opened the door.

moving out the way for your parents to be able to walk in the door with there luggage, which you just moved to one side. "hi mum" you smiled, wrapping your arms around her.

"oh my little girl, you look so grown up! manchester must be treating you well!" her smile couldn't get any bigger seeing her daughter follow her dreams and to be living happy was truly beautiful to her.

"hi dad!" you greeted him, hugging him too as your mum went over and engulfed ella into a big hug and said her hellos too.

"hi buttercup" he said, the old nickname which he gave you when you were little, only because you had a little patch in your garden back in london which used to grow buttercups and when you were little you would always pick them and bring them to mainly your dad but also your mum. so your dad gave you the nickname and ever since it had just stuck.

you rolled your eyes turning around knowing ella would tease you about the nickname your family had for you, "don't even" you pointed to her as ella raised her hands in defence as she tried her best not to laugh.

you went and said your hellos to your younger brother, lewis who had now realised that you were stood in front of him and the two of you caught up a little alongside tommy who had finished raiding you kitchen cupboards for now, and finally came over to say hello as it gave you a chance to find the in and outs of what they had been doing since the last time you saw them as ella spoke with your parents.

"you make our little buttercup so happy, she's told us all about you!" you heard your dad say as he had now made himself comfy in your living room.

"only good things i hope, but i definitely got lucky!" ella said sitting down opposite your mum and dad, looking over at you a big grin appearing on her face as you walked into the room.

she did believe that she got lucky and she had never been the one to believe in 'the one' or 'soulmates' or anything like that but she definitely believed that you and her were soulmates.

you sat down next to ella your arm wrapping around her shoulders pulling her closer to you. your brothers having been left to their own devices in your kitchen, more than likely raiding your cupboards after guilt tripping you: "but y/n it was such a long journey!" in there stupid sappy voice.

"so ella-" your dad began however was cut off by your two brothers coming in arms filled with pretty much every snack they could of possibly of found in your kitchen.

"seriously!" you had cut your dad off, as your two brothers sat on the couch next to your parents, releasing the snacks from their arms. "your not very good at hiding the crisps by the way" lewis smiled, your favourite crisps that you had been saving for a cheat day in his arms.

"i actually hate you- but anyways this is my older brother tommy.." you pointed out to the boy who already had his mouth filled with popcorn as he smiled over to ella, a little hi and wave coming from him.

"and my annoying little brother lewis" you smiled sarcastically towards lewis who shrugged digging into your crisps.

"ella, you could have done so much better than the mug that is my sister!" lewis said, receiving a flap to the back of his head by your dad as you rolled your eyes at your brother, ella just laughing along with the joke.

"she's not all that bad" ella joked, receiving a small dig to the ribs from your as she held onto her side a whisper of an ow coming from the brunette.

the next hour was spent, talking as your mum and dad got to know ella better - even though they didn’t think that was possible because of how much you had already told them over the phone. but with that came with the embarrassing story’s from your childhood and your brothers winding you up.

with that came along the football talk which went on for hours but something you didn’t mind talking about at least it saved you from any more embarrassing stories being told but nevertheless your smile never left your face, as watching your girlfriend interact with your family and get along with so well was all you could ask for in life.

“have you come to help or be a distraction?” ella giggled as she was helping your mum dish up the dinner you had prepared earlier, as you had wandered into the kitchen wrapping your arms around the ella’s waist.

“i always help!” you sighed rested your head on her shoulder as your mum scoffed jokingly. “no the boys aren’t sharing the controller!” you frowned as both your mum and ella began to laugh.

“you didn’t really think you were gonna get a chance of playing when they haven’t played on fifa for the whole journey here!” your mum said looking at you with raised eyebrows as your frown deepened and a big huff coming from you.

“well i thought you know because it’s MY house-“ you began as ella coughed, “sorry OUR house, that they would give me a go on my games!” you complained as ella shook her head at your complaints.

“it’s okay you play on it tomorrow” ella reassured, turning to kiss you on the cheek. as you stayed clinged to your girlfriends waist, your hands wandering up her united hoodie she was wearing.

“i love you baby, but can you let go cause i can’t move” ella whispered in your ear, putting down the spoon she was using to dish up food on the counter and gently prying your hands away from her bare skin. pecking you quickly on the lips as ella moved to where your mum was at the other side of the kitchen.

“can you go and tell your brothers and your dad that dinner is ready?” you mum asked as you stood leaning against the counter dipping your finger in the pudding ella had been making.

mumbling a yes as you retreated from the kitchen, groaning internally at the thought of having to pull them away from the game - knowing it would take a while.

you walked into the living room, all three of them with controller, part of you was contemplating standing there and seeing how long it would actually take for them to notice you but then again you would most likely be stood there all night!

instead you flapped lewis on the head with a cushion, “what-“ he said screaming as tommy and your dad looked behind them where you were stood beginning to laugh. “you joking, i’ve just lost because of you!” as lewis threw the controller to the side of the couch.

“boo hoo, karma for not letting me play!” you sarcastically smiled, “dinners ready by the way” as you walked out the room hearing them complain to each other how the other actually won.

Your dad and brothers coming into the dining room almost seconds after you, as your brothers both looked at each, “did you cook?” they ask almost in sync as you nodded confused at what they were trying to get at.

"yeah, i'm no longer hungry" tommy says as you gasp as ella and your parents are stifling their laugh.

“i’ll have you find, i’m a very good cook. aren’t i els?” you said, actually taking offence to what your brothers said. looking over at ella for back up as she hesitantly agreed.

you scoffed, "you can all starve for all i care then!"

sitting down at the table next to ella, as small talk began inbetween eating the food you had made. the odd topic about life in manchester and what yours and ella’s future plans were — which when brought up you didn’t really know what to say.

of course you and ella had talked about eventually getting married, starting a family but right now everything was perfect. nothing needed to be added and nothing needed to change. everything was perfect.

“i hate to admit this but that was actually quite nice” tommy admitted, finishing his meal you had made after he insulted your cooked, lewis and your parents both agreeing.

ella already knew what you had made was going to be nice considering you make it quite often for the two of you — usually on your recovery days.

“told you!” you smile to yourself in satisfaction - there was no better feeling than proving someone wrong but the someone being your brothers made it that little bit sweeter.

“definitely better than the cake you made for mum on mother’s day when you put salt instead of sugar in it” you dad poked fun, as the memory came back to you. your smile disappearing as quick at it came.

“in my defence i was fifteen” you defended yourself as you could hear ella beside you giggling. it was generally a honest mistake because which idiot even decided to put the salt bowl and the sugar bowl next to each other? someone was bound to get them mixed up and it just happened to be you.

“here was me about to ask you to make me a cake for my birthday!” ella joked, her hand resting on your thigh as she leant into you laughing along side your family.

before you joined in. you couldn’t stay mad at ella. you two worlds had jelled just the way you hoped and that was enough, even if it meant you would be the butt of some jokes but you couldn’t win every battle.

liked by millieturner and 748,013 others

ellatoone meet the parents? completed it mate!

comments -

alessia finally got over your fear i see?

1h 103 likes reply

-> ellatoone what? i wasn’t scared?

-> yourusername mhm keep telling yourself that baby

lewis91 hello ella👋🏻

24m 217 likes reply

-> ellatoone you sound like a bot?

#woso #woso blurbs #woso community #woso x reader #woso imagine #ella toone #ella toone x reader #manchester united #manchester united women #my #muwomen #man utd women #england #lionesses #woso fanfics #woso one shot #enwoso

268 notes · View notes

yangfleurs · 1 year

Text

midnight mistakes. (part 2)

pt. 1

you knocked on the door in front of you, shivering and soaked to the bone from the pouring rain outside. there was no answer, and you weren't surprised considering it was already past midnight at this point. you knocked again, louder this time, hoping someone would get up to check. you waited patiently, staying in view of the peephole of the door to make sure they could see you. the door locks began to jingle suddenly, making you jump slightly.

"y/n? why are you here? I thought chan went home to you?" hyunjin asked as he opened the door, putting down the bat in his hand, "the other aren't home so I---oh my god, you must be freezing!" he gasped suddenly, ushering you into the dorm. he rushed you into chan's room and let you borrow some of the things chan left in his closet. you changed quickly into a hoodie and shorts, before coming out and meeting hyunjin in the living room.

after tossing your wet clothes in the dryer and bringing you a hot tea, hyunjin finally came to sit down next to you on the sofa.

"okay, now tell me why you're at the dorms without your boyfriend at 1 am?" he quirked an eyebrow at you.

"he kicked me out." you mumbled, sipping your tea and sinking in to the couch to sulk.

"what? are we talking about the same chan?" he looked at you, confused at your words.

"you know how he's been working on some tracks for the last few weeks?" hyunjin nodded, "well, he left them open and accidentally deleted them while borrowing his laptop, so he kicked me out." your eyes began to water again, making you sniffle.

hyunjin scoffed, "that is no excuse to kick someone out! especially so late at night, what was he thinking?" he sighed, rubbing your back comfortingly.

"and..." your voice wavered, "I told him that if he was really kicking me out, I-I couldn't guarantee I would come back." you wiped your face---once again wet, but this time, with tears.

"and that asshole didn't follow you out? I can't believe him. do you want me to talk to him?" he asked, hugging you as you wept.

"no no, it's okay. I-I just felt so stupid and belittled, hyune. I didn't even grab anything and ran straight out. you were the first person I thought to go to." you sniffled.

"I'm glad you came here, y/n, you know you're always welcome. you poor thing," he frowned, " why don't you go and try to get some rest now? you've had a long day." he suggested, leading you gently to chan's room to sleep.

"thank you, hyune, really." you two hugged before parting ways.

you settled down in the comfort of chan's dorm bed. as soon as your head hit the pillow, it engulfed you in the strong scent of his shampoo. you breathed in the familiar scent and sighed. you normally had a difficult time falling asleep, but not tonight. you were desperate to escape your heartbreak, and after an endless number of tears had soaked into the pillow underneath you, you had succumbed to sleep.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

chan knew he should've followed you out of the apartment. he knew he shouldn't have let his anger and frustration get the best of him, especially because there was no way he could get any real work done when all he could think about was where you could've possibly gone so late at night in a city where you barely knew anyone except for him. his heart ached at how callous he was towards you, but his stubbornness kept him glued in front of his desk.

chan had been trying to get some work done for the past hour, hoping he could finesse some of the half-finished versions of his tracks he had managed to salvage into something decent before the deadline, but they were still way too short and lacking any real depth. he groaned in frustration, leaning back against his chair and letting his headphones slide down his head. he sighed, swallowing some of his pride, and grabbed his phone. he would just call you and make sure you were someplace safe, that's all.

but when chan heard the familiar sound of your ringtone coming from the living room, his heart sank right through him and his resolve flew right out of the window. the panic set in quickly, making him rush to his feet and slowly walk into the living room, as if walking slowly would make the reality become any less real. there, on the counter next to the front door, sat your phone, keys, and wallet. chan felt like the breath had been knocked out of him, his chest tightening to the point where it was hard for him to breath. he took a few deep breaths, trying to gain back his rationale, before running through the list of people you could've gone to.

lee know, felix, seungmin, and jeongin were definitely already asleep by the time you had headed out, and he knew you weren't the type to bother an entire dorm of sleeping people. changbin and jisung were spending the night in the studio, so it couldn't be them. that left only hyunjin. chan dialed his phone number and held his breath as it rang and rang, eventually going to voicemail. he called back multiple times, the panic making him frantic and irrational once again. after about the twelfth call, hyunjin finally picked up.

"what?" hyunjin asked shortly, making sure the irritation in his voice was clear.

"hyunjin, is y/n at the dorms by any chance?" he asked, trying to steady his shaking voice.

"shouldn't you know where your girlfriend is, hyung?" he spat.

"listen, I really fucked up, okay? I need to know if she's there and safe. so please answer me, hyunjin, I am begging you---is she there?" he asked once again, his anxiety increasing as he anticipated hyunjin's answer.

there was a brief pause on the line, hyunjin's hesitation making chan's stomach turn. hyunjin sighed heavily.

"she's fine. sleeping, finally. the only reason I'm still up is because all I could hear for the past hour is the poor thing's sniffling and crying."

"can I talk to her? she left her phone at home and I--" he gulped, holding his own tears, of both heartache and relief, back so he could keep talking steadily, "I just need to hear that she's really there and okay."

"I'll ask, but if she says no, I'm not going to push. " hyunjin said curtly.

chan heard some rustling over the phone, followed by a knock and hyunjin asking if you'd like to talk to chan. his chest tightened as he heard the faintest tone of your voice. hyunjin cleared his throat before talking to chan again.

"she's not budging. but..." he paused, "I definitely won't be sleeping any time soon. "

"I'm on my way. thank you so much, hyunjin." chan said quickly, stirring to his feet and making a beeline for the front door.

"I'm still angry at you, though. if y/n wants you gone, you have to leave. no buts, got it?"

chan agreed before hanging up and opening the door out of the apartment complex. he looked around and noticed the wet ground. it hadn't rained earlier when he came home. the guilt he felt only worsened at the thought of you running in the cold rain without so much as a jacket to protect you. he was going to have to do a lot more than simply apologize---he had to make it up to you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

you stirred awake at the sound of the door slowly creaking open. you sat up and looked over with squinted eyes.

"hyune?" you croaked horribly, the crying you had done becoming obvious.

"y/n." the voice, his voice, breathed out. he cautiously walked towards you.

"w-what? why are you here?" you yelled, panicking at chan's sudden presence. you shot up in the bed and pulled the duvet flush against your chest.

"I came to apologize." he said nervously, sitting at the edge of his bed and looking over at you.

"I don't want to hear it. get out." you spat angrily.

"you have every right to be angry at me. but could you just hear me out? please, baby? I promise I'll leave right after if that's what you really want, y/n." he pleaded, trying desperately to meet your eyes.

you looked to the side, refusing to look at him. you took a deep breath to control your emotions before answering him. "go on."

"okay," he took a deep breath, "y/n, I am so incredibly sorry. I completely overreacted and put my work before you like a selfish idiot. I shouldn't have gotten so angry over a mistake, and I blew the situation way out of proportion," he held his head low, fidgeting with his hands before looking up at your waiting eyes, "and I could spend the rest of my life apologizing, and I know that that still wouldn't be enough. but truly, y/n, I really am sorry." he gulped, looking up at the ceiling to stop himself from crying in front of you.

"no," you looked at him, angry tears welling in your eyes, "no, you don't get to swoop in and apologize as if this was any other stupid fight we've had!" the hurt in your voice was palpable and so raw.

chan felt truly helpless. not only was the guilt of letting you leave eating away at him, but now he had to face the fact that all of the pain and heartache you were going through was entirely his fault. "I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry, baby, I am so so sorry. I never meant to hurt you." his voice cracked. there was no use in trying to hold back his emotions now as his tears ran freely down his cheeks.

"chan, you don't get it," you paused to wipe your face, "I know your work is important. I get it, I do. but you didn't just kick me out. you didn't just let me leave. when you chose not to follow me out, you chose to fucking break up with me instead," you cried out, your throat raw, "you abandoned me." you whimpered, feeling completely broken.

"no---no, y/n, that's not---" chan struggled to find the right words to say to you, finally realizing the full gravity of the situation.

you abruptly crawled out of bed and stood there, looking away from chan. "you made your choice. now go." you whispered.

but as you tried walking towards the door, he grabbed your wrist firmly. he stood up with you, grabbing the other wrist and holding you in front of him. you felt his intense gaze above you, and you didn't dare to look up. you knew that as soon as you saw chan's flushed, heartbroken face, your resolve would completely disintegrate. you couldn't find it in you to move out of his grip either, though, too exhausted to keep fighting. his hands slowly slid from your wrists down to your hands. he gently caressed them with his thumbs before cautiously placing his hands around your waist. you felt him slowly slide down to the ground and onto his knees, his arms following him down to your legs.

"I figured I'd be able to see your face better from down here," he looked up at you, chuckling a little as he sniffled. his light demeanor changed quickly, though, as he became overcome with emotion once again, "I know I sound like a broken record but, fuck, I--" he blinked away fresh tears, "I can't apologize enough. I am so sorry, baby. not following after you was the worst mistake of my life. in my frustration, I didn't even realize I let the only thing worth caring about in my life walk out of it. I know I don't deserve to be forgiven, but I'm going to be selfish and ask for it, anyway. because I can't lose you. I love you way too much to let that happen. you know that, right? please, baby, tell me you know that?" he pleaded with you.

you finally sunk down to chan's level and sat in front of him, finally giving in, "of course I know that, chan," you sighed, "I love you, too." you said quietly.

"w-where do we go from here?" he asked you nervously, "I'll do whatever you want, my love."

"I don't want to break up."

"I don't want that, either." he breathed out a sigh of relief.

"I want this, all of this, to be over so badly. but if you ever, and I mean ever, do anything like that again, we will break up for good. I am so serious, chan, I will not forgive you a second time." you said solemnly.

"I wouldn't dream of it, my love," he smiled at you fondly, "am I forgiven then?" he asked you slyly.

"I guess so." you replied coyly.

"come here," he pulled you into his lap. you leaned against his chest, feeling much lighter after making up with chan. he pushed the hair away from your face.

"you know I am actually sorry about fucking up your tracks. I won't touch your laptop again, I promise." you mumbled.

"it's all in the past, baby, really. I'll figure it out," he hummed, "and besides, you're not even going to want to borrow my laptop soon."

you looked at him curiously, quirking an eyebrow at his strange remark.

"I got you a new laptop!" he beamed, "it won't be here until the end of the week, but I figured it was about time you threw that piece of junk you call a laptop away." he chuckled.

"oh my god! you didn't have to do that chan," you smiled at him with surprise, "thank you." you mumbled sweetly.

"it's the least I could do," he kissed the top of your head before picking you up abruptly, "now come on, we have some lost time to make up for." he peppered kisses across your face, making you giggle.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(a little bonus!)

the next morning, you and chan were awoken by loud chatter and laughter outside of the room. you both trudged out of bed one after another and made yourselves look decent before joining the others in the dining room.

you felt someone glaring at the two of you from one side of the room. "next time you guys decide to fight, do it at your own place. seriously, who yells that loud at 3 in the morning?" hyunjin groaned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and yawning dramatically. chan apologized with a light laugh, ruffling hyunjin's hair as he put his head down against the dining table. you both sat down with him around the table together.

"oh, you guys are awake?" jisung asked, drying his head with a towel as he stepped out of the bathroom and joined all of you at the table, "we heard what happened last night. hyung, you know should've called us---" as if on cue, changbin came out of his room and stormed into the dining room.

"yah!" he yelled, "what the hell were you thinking not calling us after you lost our tracks?" changbin yelled.

please, changbin, I just spent the entire night regretting and begging for forgiveness, please leave me alone." chan whined.

changbin ignored him completely and turned to you, "y/n, guess what? the idiot you call your boyfriend didn't bother to call the people he literally produces every track with when he lost all of his work. you know, if he did actually think to call me or jisung, he would've known," he turned towards chan this time, "that he sent us those tracks to review and save on our laptops and he fought with you over absolutely nothing." he huffed.

your head whipped over to look at your boyfriend whose face was lit up with realization as he remembered doing everything changbin was saying.

"I suggest you take the intruder bat we keep under the couch and beat his ass." jisung mumbled next to you through a mouthful of food.

"jisung!" chan scolded.

"or I'll do it. it's for a good cause." he shrugged, "your call, y/n."

"thanks ji, but I'm good," you smiled, "if he's gonna get his ass kicked, it should be me doing it. sleep with one eye open, christopher." you glared at him.

"not the government name." hyunjin gasped.

"I'm sorry again?" chan said meekly, scratching the back of his neck. you smacked his arms a couple times, making him fake whine and eventually chuckle. he smothered you in an inescapable hug, holding you closely and kissing the top of your head.

"gag."

"shut up or you're next jisung."

#skz angst #skz fanfic #skz fluff #skz headcanons #skz imagines #skz reactions #stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids reactions #skz #stray kids headcanons #stray kids angst #skz chan #stray kids bang chan #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz bang chan #stray kids imagines

2K notes · View notes

bloodorangesoup · 8 months

Text

Kinktober '23 Day 2 - First Time (SVT Mingyu)

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Warnings: a lot of build up, first time (tbh i didn’t address this much 😭), a lil breast sucking, desperate reader, oral (f. receiving), riding, unprotected sex (lets pretend ur on the pill), slight praise, creampie, slight perv gyu but with respect and some tlc 😌

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: I can never just write a short story can I? Dammit. Anyways, pls send requests!

The rain pattering against the window muffled the busy streets. It was a Saturday in Seoul, meaning the traffic wouldn’t die down until late at night. The air outside was frigid and wet, but you found comfort inside, the heater turned up just enough to feel cozy without a blanket.

“Yah, its kinda hot in here, isn’t it Gyu?” You pulled on the collar of your sweatshirt and turned your head to face him. He sat on the other end of the small couch, legs stretched and on your lap.

“A bit I guess, do you want me to turn down the heater?” He questioned, head tilting against the top of the cushion.

“No, no. That’s okay, it’ll just get cold if you do. I’m gonna go change really quick.” You gently pushed his legs off your lap, making his body turn straight. Mingyu sat up on the couch, sitting normally as he continued watching the show streaming on the TV.

A few minutes passed, Mingyu felt stupid for feeling this way but he had already begun to miss your company. His fingers itched to have you back in his hold. Nights in were rare for you two, his schedule constantly requiring him to be everywhere at once. Most nights he had off he had somewhere new to be early in the morning, preventing any real quality time together.

“Y/n-ahhhh,” Mingyu whined. "Where are youuuu?" His head fell back against the couch, feeling more impatient with each second.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” He heard your voice grow louder as you walked back towards the living room, your footsteps echoed down the hall as you approached. “Feeling impatient tonight huh?” Your voice was back in the room with him. He opened his eyes and lifted his head off the couch.

“Finally-” his comment was exaggerated but died in his throat once his gaze landed on you. He knew you were changing but he wasn’t expecting you to be wearing such, well, little amount of clothes. Your sweatshirt still hung off your body, but your sweatpants had been replaced by what Mingyu assumed to be the tiniest shorts to ever exist. The shorts covered your ass just enough, but the trim was loose and frilly, exposing the bottom of your cheeks when you walked. You were technically still pretty covered up, which is why you couldn’t understand why Mingyu was looking at you with such a stunned expression. He couldn’t help it. He didn’t understand either. Mingyu was a 26 year old man, he was no stranger to seeing a woman’s body. Yet the sight of seeing so much leg right in front of him ignited something in his brain.

You sat back down to his right. Deciding to be a tease, you swung your legs over his lap, scooting closer to his side. Your arms rose to rest on his shoulders, your head falling against his chest as you looked back toward the TV. Mingyu’s right arm wrapped around your back to secure you. His left hand landed on your calf, rubbing up and down to your knee. You sighed, enjoying the contact, and Mingyu found it increasingly hard to concentrate on the plot of the show. His eyes looked down to your leg. He stared at your thighs and his hand slowly ran higher. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he felt you shift.

“I still feel hot,” you huffed.

“Why don’t you take off your sweatshirt, baby?” Mingyu rubbed your side. His curiosity piqued when you looked away embarrassed. It clicked in his brain, “Oh. Are you, like, not wearing anything under?”

“No, I am. I just, I’m not wearing a bra,” your voice quiet at that last part. You continued to look everywhere but at him as you felt his thumb rub the skin on your thigh. “You know, I just- we just never...” You could feel the heat creep up your neck and to your face.

Mingyu wanted to make you feel comfortable, but there wasn’t any choice. He could already imagine what you looked like underneath the sweatshirt and it was sending heat down his body. He should have offered you his shirt, or gone to turn down the heater, but it was too late and he was already thinking with his other head.

“I know,” he cooed. A slight pout formed on his lips, his eyes opening to feign innocence. “It’s okay, baby.” His right hand was now rubbing the bottom of your thigh, fingertips gracing the hem of your shorts. His other hand toyed with the bottom of your sweatshirt. “Take it off,” he whispered. Your eyes were glued to his as you nodded. Reaching down, you slowly lifted the sweatshirt off your torso. For a moment, it covered your head and your arms were raised to lift it off your shoulders. Mingyu sneaked a glance down and let out a groan at the sight. Your boobs sat beautifully in your top, the low hemline exposing your cleavage. You softly grunted as you tried to untangle your arms from the sleeves, breaking Mingyu from his trance. He helped you get it off and you let out a sigh from the exertion.

The air was thick. Even though it was just you and Mingyu you felt a million eyes on your body. Mingyu cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away from your chest and looking up to meet your eyes. This was foreign territory for the two of you, but you had to admit that the way he was looking at you was turning you on. There was a hunger in his eyes and it was clear he was trying hard to fight it for your sake. He pulled you close, retaining the previous position you both held. His hand continued stroking your thigh and the urge to cup your ass was tearing him up inside. He had no idea what was going on in the show anymore despite his hard stare at the TV. His right hand slid up and down your waist, coming up higher every time until it was resting over your ribs, right under your boobs.

You let out a shaky breath. You didn’t know if you wanted him to stop the torture or to manhandle you like you knew he wanted to. You felt pressure under your thigh and it took a moment for it to register to you that he was growing hard under your legs. Mingyu’s fingers itched to take hold of your breast. To squeeze them and bury his face in between them. His grip on your thigh tightened and he bit his lip hard.

He shook his head.

“You should get off me, y/n.” He exhaled, his body attempting to slip from under yours. “We haven’t- I can’t control myself right now. Just sit next to me and gimme a minute.”

You grabbed hold of his bicep.

“No.”

“No?” He looked at you incredulously.

“No, yes, wait- just,” you shook your head. Before you could understand what you were doing you shuffled forward and straddled his lap. You held eye contact, testing the waters. He just looked back confused. The two of you had made out before, this wasn’t the first time you’ve ever sat on his lap like this. But never with your boobs pressed up against his chest like this, never with such little fabric separating your body from his. Slowly, you sat down, gasping when you felt his erection press up against your clothed cunt.

Mingyu’s hands held your waist to steady you, or to press you harder against him. He didn’t know which course of action to take yet. You cupped his cheek with your hand and kissed him. As you leaned into the kiss your clit rubbed over his hard on and you moaned into his mouth. It was like something broke in you. All the waiting, all the desire, all the heat. You started moving back and forth grinding on him. He groaned into the kiss, his grip tightened on your waist in an attempt to stop your movements. Taking hold of the back of his hand, you intertwined your fingers and slid it up your body to cup your right breast. You squeezed over his hand, allowing him to feel you. Mingyu broke the kiss and rested his forehead against yours.

“What has gotten into you?” he panted. His mind was foggy. He didn’t want to stop but he wasn’t sure this was the right time for it to be the first time.

“Please, Gyu,” you whined. A trail of kisses started at his cheek, moving its way down to his adam’s apple. You continued to press his hand against your chest and he could feel you take grasp of his other hand. He knew what was coming so he took hold of your wrist.

“Y/n-”

“Please, Gyu, please,” you continued grinding over his aching cock. He could feel the precum leaking in his boxers.

“Y/n,” he said sternly this time. It caught your attention. You looked back up at him, eyes desperate.

“I’m ready, Mingyu. Please, I don’t know what it is. I need you so bad. Just touch me. Please.”

He stared at you for a moment waiting for you to take it back. To realize this was a mistake. But your breathing just got harder as you tried to move against him.

“Okay, okay baby,” he whispered. He found his voice, “Come here.”

He pulled you in for a kiss, wasting no time to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues danced together sending a sensation down both your bodies. Now that you were both on the same page, you took hold of his other hand and moved it to your chest. This time he squeezed on his own accord, relishing in the feeling of your soft skin. His body took over, his hips jerking up to continue grinding against you. He could feel the heat radiating off your core, it made him dizzy.

Kissing down your jaw, he bit at your collar bones, leaving marks down the way. You leaned back, giving him access to your chest. He continued squeezing you, watching as he pushed your tits together and let them drop. Lowering his face to the valey of your breasts, he pushed them together again, losing himself in the feeling of your soft tits suffocating him.

“Can I?” His fingers came to the neckline of your tank top.

“Please.”

He didn’t hesitate, pulling down your top and letting your breasts spill out over it.

“Fuck, fuck baby” he muttered grabbing at your bare tits. His index fingers passed over your nipples and you gasped. He watched as they hardened under his touch. Mingyu squeezed your left breast, pushing your nipple up so he could take it into his mouth. He sucked on it feverishly, as if all this time this was exactly where he needed to be. He continued playing with your other breast, pinching your nipple and rolling it between his thumb and finger. He moaned as your hand raked through the hair at the nape of his neck. He released your nipple, moving to the other and giving it kitten licks. Reaching around you, his large hands gripped your ass, pushing you forward and pulling you back over his dick.

“Ah, Gyu, I need you, please.” You gripped his hair, pulling him away from your tits.

“Need what, baby?”

“Not now, Gyu. Please,” you whined.

“No, really. I need you to tell me what you need right now.”

“I need you in me,” you pleaded.

“How do you want me?” He looked at you expectantly. You grew impatient.

“Fuck, Gyu. Just, take your clothes off. Please.” You got off him quickly, discarding your tank top and pulling down your shorts.Then you stopped. Mingyu threw off his shirt. Before he could take off his shorts he noticed your change in demeanor. You looked nervous, a stark contrast from the you that was just humping him like you were in heat.

“Baby, you okay?” His eyes grew concerned. You fidgeted.

“Yeah, yeah. I just-”

“We can stop if you want.” He reassured.

“No, Gyu. I just-”

“Don’t think that we have to keep going just cause we-”

“Mingyu, stop.” He fell silent. “I just, you’ve never seen me naked before. We’ve never done this before. I’ve never done this before. I’m just kinda nervous.”

“And you’re sure you want to keep going?”

You scoff, “Mingyu, did you see how I was like a minute ago?” He laughed.

“Fine, fine. Come here.” He reached for your hands, pulling you towards him.

You stood directly in front of him now. He was at the edge of the couch, his chin rested against your stomach as he looked up at you. His hands snaked up your thighs, sliding over your ass and resting on your hips.

“Can I take these off, pretty?”

You let out a shaky breath and nodded. Hooking his fingers over the waistband, he slowly dragged down your panties. It felt like time was still as he kissed down your legs. His hand carefully lifted your feet to step out of the garment, tossing it to the side. His lips rose to your stomach, kissing around your belly button and pulling a giggle from you. His hands squeezed your ass and he continued leaving kisses further down until he was right above your pussy. His hand ran down your left thigh, lifting it until it rested on his shoulder. His hand moved toward your inner thigh, closer to your core until he could slide his thumb through your folds. He groaned at the feeling. You were so wet. Your breath caught in your throat, staying there until he leaned forward and licked a stripe from your pussy to your clit. You let out a deep moan, reeling from this new feeling. Mingyu felt like he was drunk, he couldn’t get enough of the taste. His hand spread you open as he went in, licking up and down, only interrupted when he would stop to suck on your clit, loving the way you moaned when he would stay there. A finger prodded at your entrance. He slowly pushed it into you, kissing your clit. He kept his finger buried inside you, curling it towards himself and rubbing the ribbed flesh. You gripped his shoulders for stability, jumping as his long fingers hit a spot you had never been able to.

You backed away from him. His head lifted up, worried he may have gone too far.

“Are you okay?” his eyes searched for any signs of discomfort.

You held his face.

“I’m fucking amazing but right now I need you in me. I can’t wait anymore.” Your hands reached for the waistband of his shorts, pulling his boxers down with them as he lifted his hips. Your eyebrows lifted for a moment, taking in his naked form. Fuck, he is gorgeous. You finally looked down and your mouth fell open. Fuck, he’s big.

“Like what you see?” His cockiness took you by surprise, a switch from his previous sweetness.

“Shut up, Kim,” you retorted, pushing his chest. He fell back against the couch, his arms coming up to rest upon the top of the cushions. You held onto his shoulders, positioning your legs on either side of him. You moaned together as his cock came in contact with your pussy, your wetness spreading over him. You slid yourself back and forth over him, preparing yourself for what was to come. He had had enough.

Mingyu lifted you up, positioning himself at your entrance and pulled you down, slowly filling you up. You hissed at the stretch, face scrunching as you tried to take him. He had a strong grip on your hips, not wanting you to move too quickly and hurt yourself. He felt your pussy squeeze him the whole way down. Even as he was worried for you, he couldn’t deny how fucking good you felt. With a sigh, he bottomed out in you.

“Feel alright, baby?” Mingyu stroked your cheek. The sweetness back in his face as he studied yours.

“It’s tight,” you hissed. Mingyu’s eyebrows furrowed. You kissed in between them. “It feels good, I just need a sec to adjust.”

“Yeah, of course, baby, anything you need.” He continued to study you, wanting to make your first time as comfortable as he possibly could. His hands rubbed up and down your back, soothing you through the pain. After a moment you lifted yourself up, feeling empty as his cock pulled out of you. Slowly, you let your body slide back down somewhere halfway before lifting yourself up once again. The repetition of emptiness to fullness turned from pain to pleasure as you began to focus on the feeling of him sliding through you. You bounced directly over him and felt strangely mechanical. You huffed out a breath of frustration, needing more but not knowing exactly what.

“Baby,” Mingyu lifted you out of your thoughts.

“I don’t know what to do,” you muttered bashfully. With anyone else you would feel embarrassed, but Mingyu looked at you with such care and adoration you couldn't possibly feel that way with him.

He let out a small chuckle, “Try this.” His hands guided your hips up and towards him as he pulled your back down. He continued to move you in this rotation, noting the way you moaned every time your clit rubbed against his pelvis.

“Fuck, Gyu, that feels so good.” You were a mess on top of him. Your body taking control as your mind processed these new sensations. Your back arched when he hit a particularly deep spot and Mingyu took it as an opportunity to keep playing with your tits. He sucked a nipple into his mouth as you used him, your tits bouncing in his face. Mingyu’s mind was running a million miles a minute, he rested his forehead against your chest, your boobs bouncing on either side of his head. He had been wrong earlier, this is exactly where he needed to be.

“God, y/n,” he huffed out, “you’re so tight. Fuck you’re doing so good for me. Driving me crazy.” he shook his head against your chest, trying to hold out.

“Ungh, Mingyu” you barely got out in between moans, addicted to the feeling of him filling you up.

He looked up at you and held your face, bringing you down into a kiss. It was sweet, giving you both a moment of reprieve from the intensity of the night. Mingyu pressed his cheek against yours, whispering in your ear.

“Doing so good, baby. Making me feel so good. Keep going, princess. Make yourself come all over me.” His hands were roaming all over your body, taking in how nice it felt to have you on top of him.

“Min- agh, fuck. Mingyu I’m so close. I can’t,” you struggled. You were close but you couldn’t quite push yourself there. Sensing you were overworked, he lifted your hands from his chest and wrapped your arms around his neck in an embrace.

“I got you, baby, don’t worry. Just hold on, I’ll take care of you. I’ll make sure you come.” His breaths were ragged. His arms reached around your waist to hold you as he began thrusting up into you. You moaned as he moved even faster than you had been previously. You could only hold onto him as he hammered into you, your body convulsing as it reached its peak.

“I’m gonna come Mingyu, mmmhm, I can’t hold it in,” you were panting in his ear.

“Let it go baby, fuck, come all over my cock.” He was struggling to keep himself together. Your pleasure being the only motivation for him to hold his own orgasm back.

With a snap of his hips your body jerked as the pleasure took over. Your mind went blank, only being able to feel pleasure rolling through your body. Moans escaped your mouth as your head fell forward on Mingyu’s shoulder. Your pussy was buzzing, pulsating from your orgasm and tensing from Mingyu’s continued thrusts. Your walls fluttered and squeezed him, the final straw that made the burning heat building in Mingyu’s abdomen release. He stilled as his orgasm took over, his balls clenching when you started bouncing on top of him again, riding out his high. He moaned out your name, cursing under his breath.

Lifting your head from his shoulder, you looked into his eyes, glossed over and fucked. His hand rubbed your back.

“You did so good, baby. ‘M so proud of you,” he pouted. You giggled at his dramatics.

Pressing a soft kiss to his lips you sighed, “Thank you, Gyu.” You smiled at him. “We should get cleaned up now huh?” You looked down at your bodies, a sheen of sweat covering the both of you. His gaze followed yours, looking at your connected bodies.

“Yeah, we should. But let's stay here for a bit.” His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a hug against him, “I don’t wanna leave you yet.”

You nuzzled your head against his, listening to his steadying breath and the rain against the window.

A/N: Thank you for reading this far! I am taking requests so much sure to check my kinktober masterlist for some inspo!

#seventeen smut #seventeen imagines #seventeen hard hours #seventeen hard thoughts #seventeen mingyu smut #seventeen mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #mingyu x reader #mingyu hard hours #mingyu hard thoughts #kinktober #mingyu kinktober #seventeen mingyu imagines #mingyu imagines

518 notes · View notes

charlosvibesonly · 5 months

Text

Racing Hearts - Part 2

A Max Verstappen Imagine

Part 1

pairing : max x fem! reader/driver

the aftermath of their unexpected kisses is driving the racing world crazy. and y/n can't help but fall for him.

please lmk if you want this to be a series!

The night air was filled with anticipation as you and Max stayed there, lingering in the aftermath of the unexpected kiss. As days passed, you found yourself inexplicably attracted to Max in a way that surpassed the excitement of the racetrack. The articles and headlines about your growing connection were impossible to ignore, and soon, even you were caught up in the romance that they portrayed.

Snippets from articles read,

"From fierce rivals to unexpected lovers, Y/N and Max's story is straight out of a Hollywood script. Once a battleground, the racetrack is now the backdrop for their burgeoning romance."

"Fans can't get enough of the unexpected chemistry between Y/N and Max. Is it love or a strategic move to keep the competition on track?"

"In a surprising turn of events, the racetrack has become the stage for a love story that transcends the finish line. Can these racing rivals make it work off the track?"

The tabloids and fans alike speculated on the authenticity of your relationship, dissecting every shared glance and lingering touch. Amid it all, you found yourself genuinely liking Max, a realization that both thrilled and terrified you. The thrill of racing was now accompanied by the happiness of stolen glances and the gentle brush of hands during press events.

It was the Silverstone weekend. Y/N went to a club at her friends’ persuasion. The dim, pulsating lights cast a hazy glow over the dance floor, where bodies swayed.

However, the vibrant energy took a swift downturn when you stumbled upon Max. His presence stood out amidst the chaotic dance floor, his sleek black attire making him an unmistakable figure in the sea of people. Your breath hitched as you caught sight of him, his arms wrapped around another girl, their laughter blending with the bass-heavy music.

At that moment, the world seemed to slow down, the rhythmic beats of the music fading into the background. Hurt and blindsided, you felt a sudden weight in your chest, and a knot tightened in the pit of your stomach.

His eyes met yours, you could see the realization dawning on his face. Without a word, you turned away, determined to escape the suffocating atmosphere.

Max hurried after you, pulling you back.

"Where are you going?" he asked a mix of concern in his eyes.

"Somewhere I don't bother you and your date," you replied, your anger palpable.

“Must have been so fun right? Playing with me.” your voice breaking.

Tears rolled down your cheeks, and you left without giving him a chance to explain.

Arriving at the hotel, you retreated to the solitude of your room, hoping the night would make you hurt less.

It was race day. And you wanted revenge. Max and you were in a very close fight for the championship, this win could give you an advantage. And you wanted it.

Rain was forecasted. The downpour was obviously in Max’s favor. You cursed your luck. But decided to give him an equally tough fight. You weren’t the kind to back down.

As the cars navigated the treacherous turns, the rain intensified, challenging even the most seasoned drivers. The spray of water, illuminated by the headlights, created a dazzling display that added a layer of drama to the already high-stakes competition. The race unfolded like a dance between machines and elements, a battle not only against each other but also against the relentless forces of nature.

Amidst the chaos, Max executed a surprising move, a strategic decision that played a pivotal role in helping you secure the lead.

“Y/N wins the British Grand Prix!”

The noise was deafening.

But you weren’t celebrating. A thousand questions ran through your head. Your eyes searched for Max. Making your way towards to garage, you stood in front of him.

So many things you wanted to know, but all you could say was, “Why?”

"You stopped talking to me, Y/N," Max began, his voice cutting through the chaotic symphony of the rain and engines. His gaze bore into yours, seeking understanding. "You just went away. I wasn't playing around, and I certainly wasn't on a date. She was just a fan, a little too eager. You have to believe me; I'd never mess with you like that. I think I like you too much for it."

As he spoke, Max's emotions played out on his expressive face. There was a hint of regret for the misunderstanding, a touch of vulnerability in the admission of liking you, and a determination to set things right.

In the midst of it all, the call to the podium interrupted, leaving Max's explanation hanging in the air.

On the podium, with rain still pouring down, the fans eagerly anticipated a kiss. The scent of wet asphalt mixed with the sweet champagne hung in the air as you stood next to Max. Your racing suits, now drenched, clung to your bodies, creating a scene that echoed the intensity of the race you both had just conquered.

In that charged moment, emotions swirled within you like a storm. The recent hurt and confusion from the club scene were still fresh, an ache in your chest that begged for resolution.

Seizing the moment, you took Max's face in your hands. Your eyes revealed a mix of emotions – anger and hurt were there, yes, but underneath it all, a burning desire to set things right, to redefine the narrative that had spiraled out of control. The kiss that followed caught Max off guard.

Surprised by your sudden boldness, Max responded with eagerness. He pulled you closer, the racing suits sticking to your bodies like a second skin. Max lifted you into the air, clearly showing how eager he was. As you hung in his arms, Fernando, sharing the podium, grabbed a bottle of champagne and poured it over both of you. The kiss continued, undeterred by the rain, and crowd.

As you broke away, you realized that you were no longer rivals; instead, you were something undefined, something that went beyond the racetrack.

The post-race interview was a chorus of questions about your evolving relationship.

"Y/N, Max, can you confirm if this is a real romance or just a publicity stunt?" one reporter asked.

You exchanged a glance with Max, and laughing you replied, "It's as real as the rain pouring down on us."

Another reporter jumped in, "How did this happen? Weren't you arch-rivals just a while ago?"

Max, a playful smirk on his face, responded, "Well, sometimes, the best races happen when you least expect them."

The other drivers were caught equally off-guard. Charles said in his interview, ”I thought I was the only one with a surprising performance today, but clearly, I underestimated those two.” And he chuckled while watching their kiss being replayed over and over again.

During the interview, your phone buzzed with a text from Max, "Meet me at 9?"

Your smile was his answer.

Clearly distracted, a reporter tried to grab Max’s attention, "So, are we going to see more public displays of affection in the future?"

Looking at you Max answered, "Well, you'll have to wait and see. We're just getting started."

#max verstappen #charles leclerc #f1 #f1 imagine #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1

209 notes · View notes

mrsnancywheeler · 5 months

Text

midnight rain part 2 // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: finnick had pulled the plug on your relationship long ago, when he could no longer keep from you what he'd been forced into. but after you've returned victorious from your games, he knows you need him as the nightmares come for you each time you close your eyes.

previous chapter

the sequel

warnings: descriptions of gore, violence, death, including an eye, blood, manipulation of someone's feelings to survive, betrayal, unrequited love to resentment, mentions of a break up, relationship with lack of communication, anxiety with symptoms of nausea, allusions to trafficking but no explicit detail, ANGST, hurt/comfort, fluff, nightmares and flashbacks, if there were more I didn't get I'm sorry

unedited and not beta read

2.7k words

“Only two more stops, angel. Then we'll be back home." Finnick was clasping together your necklace for you as you stared blankly into the mirror. He was trying to be comforting, but it was difficult when two more stops meant he'd have to tell you soon. First you'd get through District 4, through talking about Conway, and he'd let you down when you were headed to wrap it all up in the Capitol.

“Promise?" You desperately wanted to be home, to deal with the haunting of your nightmares without having more to face every day.

Finnick couldn't really promise you'd get to go straight home after the Capitol, maybe Snow had something waiting or maybe you'd have longer to wait. So he said nothing, he offered you a small smile and kissed the top of your head. Now your innocent question left your chest pounding, why didn't he just say, yes?

“Let's go get you something to eat, angel." He offered his hand out to you which you paused before taking. There were too many secrets, you'd tried to allow him them after all he'd gone through of course he had things he still needed to process. However, this was now your life too and if they involved you then you deserved to be told. Yet you knew nothing you could say or do would convince Finnick to reveal things except his own inner clock.

“Okay." Tearing your eyes away from him as you rose from the vanity’s stool. Exhaustion was only slightly hidden in your tone.

Of course he knew why this was, besides the little sleep you'd been able to obtain between nightmares that left you sobbing into his arms, but he reasoned that currently he was doing you a favor. So he said nothing further on the subject as you walked out of the train car only awaiting the difficult day ahead.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

When your name was called in the reaping you could have sworn your heart was going to fall right out of your body. All the blood was rushing straight to your head and your body begged you to just collapse then and there. But the performance had already begun, everyone would be watching to see how District 4’s female tribute acted. Would she be cocky and strong? What about scared and fleeting? You already had to start forming an image as you walked up the stage on shaky legs.

When you saw his face as you approached the steps you could no longer push away the incoming tears from at least briefly shedding. Finnick. All he'd said he would to protect you, the poor boy who pushes you away claiming it was to keep you safe from a looming danger that he would not reveal. Eyes are windows to the soul and his showed how his heart was being violently crushed on top of the hastily thrown on bandages for its past cracks and bruises.

Maybe your eyes showed the same thing to whomever was paying attention to them, whoever was really trying to get inside this tribute’s head. Perhaps it would benefit you if they did, to be seen as a hopeless romantic needing to get home for an unseen love. Thoughts of how you would perform filled every crevice of your brain and the Capitol escort reached inside the bowl to pull out a male tribute's name.

Her voice was like a sickly, sweet syrup, cotton candy that was melting down the stick on a hot day as she let out a heavy breath into the microphone.

“Conway Delmare!” Your heart pounced up, maybe the odds were in your favor after all. Part of you wanted to shake the forming idea off, it was cruel, mean, unfair, but so is everything else, this is life and death.

He walked onto the stage with confidence and he gazed at you with pity. Pity. Is that what sealed his fate? An ‘I don't need your pity, I pity you for what I'm about to do.’ The two of you shook hands, his was firm and calloused, yours soft and fleeting. That feeling he'd always found so entrancing about you, how delicate you were with your looks, your smiles, your touch, your voice, but unbeknownst to him the same thing could not be said of the part of your soul plotting his demise.

Looks could be faked and you mustered every feeling that represented your heart's visceral reaction to Finnick straight into Conway’s deep, midnight eyes and the look he gave back to you showed that he fell for it hook, line, and sinker. So as you were led to say your familial goodbyes you began mentoring yourself on exactly how you'd already begun playing this game and your hard work would not be put to waste.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

There was only a matter of minutes before you made your grand appearance in front of District 4, in front of Conway's family and your stomach was in knots. At the time you began hatching your tactics to win you didn't have time to think about how everyone would view you for it. If the Capitol thought you were a Princess, a damsel in distress who had to fight for herself like she was in some sort of twisted fairy tale then the districts, your district saw a manipulator, a sly girl who couldn't just harm the usual way but made cuts into people's hearts. You played the game too hard and too well to be forgiven.

Heckling was something you were prepared for, you doubted the Peacekeepers would let it happen for long, but if it did you'd deserve it you reasoned. What would hurt the most would be staring at Conway’s mother who'd once made you snacks after school, his father who'd tell you fantastical stories about his job, his younger sister who wanted to mimic everything about you, and his older sister who comforted you when Finnick had broken your heart, knowing that you had exploited these relations to leave him dead in the muddy marshlands of the arena. They would resent you just as much as you resented yourself for it. There was no space in your heart to blame them for this, just mind hollowing guilt.

“You gotta stay with me, sweet girl " Finnick’s arm around your waist brought you back to the present, out of counting down the seconds until you faced the consequences of your actions.

“I'm gonna be sick." Anxiety always had you dry heaving, desperate to be free of the gnawing inside.

“No you won't. C’mon, angel, you step out there, say the speech on the card, smile, avert your eyes no matter how difficult, and then you come right back to me." His reassuring smile was usually infectious like the sunshine, like Conway’s had once been.

“He should be going right back to them, Finnick. I'm such a terrible person." You didn't realize how cold your face was until he was wiping away the tears falling.

“No you're not, that's what they want you to feel. But you're not, you did what you needed to do. It's not your fault if you decided to play smarter." Someone was shouting something and you knew it was time for you to go, to do exactly as Finnick had instructed no matter how difficult. You reluctantly pulled away from his comforting hands, “I'm not going to wipe all the tears, it'll help. Not because you're manipulative, but it shows you are how you present yourself, remorseful."

You nodded and sniffled, hands tightly gripping the card with the speech. He gave you a reassuring nod as you took slow steps to the doors, preparing to dissociate completely from the people who lie ahead. Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“We should keep heading east, put enough distance between us that we can think of a plan to ambush their camp before they ambush us." Conway was leaned up against a tree as he wiped the sweat off his brow, the mugginess was making you both claustrophobic.

“I'm not sure why we split anyways, it would have been easier to take them by surprise immediately, if that was your plan." Exactly, his plan didn't make sense. It made you tense, put you on edge, which was a terrific achievement considering the current predicament.

“I told you, I heard Birch talking.” His voice was brisk, usually it was more playful. Conway usually had a tone of cold strawberries on a hot summer day, but now it was like they were just as hot and mushy as the weather.

You nodded cautiously, the tides were changing. Every vein pumping blood echoed through your head, he was off, this was all wrong. He'd checked off nearly every box you'd expected, so why was he diverging from the script now? Adrenaline was pushing through your legs, you were ready to run, it shook through your arms, he had the spear and the knives in the bag. Stupid. Too much trust and you were basically defenseless, you should have prepared for this outcome as well.

“So what's the plan until then?" Your voice exuded relief and trust, but he'd known you for too long to not notice the tapping of your foot. Signaling how ready you were to bolt if things went awry.

Conway looked down a second and scoffed, “I think you've caught onto that by now."

Just like that you were hurtling through the marsh, darting around the trees, and as the breeze screamed wildly through your hair, your jacket, everything was too loud. You weren't sure what was his pounding footsteps and what was your heart in your ears with all the overstimulation. Him screaming your name was; however, loud enough to distinguish.

He'd always been an unbalanced climber so your instincts decided to send you barreling up the nearest tree. You were too slow and his hands clawed into your legs, so you screamed and kicked, but he pulled you down regardless. Hitting your head with a thud that made all noice cease for a second. Tears filled your vision, you were desperately trying to push yourself away with your legs and forearms, but he had you pinned down.

“Did you really think I would believe you would just suddenly stop loving him? After years of me pining for you, suddenly now was a good time for you to realize you'd felt the same?" His laugh was biting and you shook your head as burning tears covered your face in desperation. He should have hit you with the spear but somewhere he'd abandoned it, you shouldn't have let the adrenaline take over because sometimes between then and now he'd grabbed the knife too. It was all so personal.

" Conway, please, it's not like that.” You thrashed wildly, digging your fingernails into his hands trying to get him to drop the weapon that with one sure slide could put an end to your backbending efforts.

" It's not like you thought I would do anything for you, even though you turned me aside for years, for him? He doesn't even want you, but you only really see me when it saves you. But it's not gonna save you this time, princess.” He jammed the knife down as you pulled your body every which way, screaming as he missed his target and landed on your side. “What did I beat you at your own game? Did you think I was dumb enough-"

Before he could finish his own screams filled the wind when you let your instincts take over, jamming your thumb into his eye. Blood poured from it as he instinctually went to cover it, you kicked him further off of you. Your eyes greedily searched for the spear as you propelled yourself off of the ground.

“Damn you!" He yelled as he tried to see through the river of blood pouring over one of them. Finally you saw the weapon he'd discarded and hastily scrambled for it. Using every concentrated muscle possible to aim it straight into his chest without pause. The impact caused his already stumbling self to crash onto his back. His cries overtook the arena and your senses were once again flooded. There was no time for sympathy when he was still breathing and eager for your cannon to go off before his, so you approached his body and pushed the spear further in. The cannon rang out and you gave an exhaustive sigh of relief, wiping your face of its grime.

There was no time to rest when you'd heard a branch snap and whirled around only to see Birch. A perfect loop for what would haunt you.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

This time when you woke up it was the numbness that hit. Thinking about how the sunshine ray of a boy who'd always supported you had been snuffed away because of you. You damaged him, Conway would've been happy to live a quiet seaside life with your families, kids and candy, he was so kind until you tore it all up with that urge to win. Maybe if you hadn't been so dark and dreary to his rays of sunlight he would have happily sacrificed himself for you and sent you back with a wish to take care of his family.

All to be with the man keeping you warm and safe now, from the ghosts of your own memories. You could feel his ocean eyes boring into you as you stared at the ceiling, he probably hadn't slept at all.

“Finnick?" Your voice sounded foreign to you, it was as if you were above yourself.

“Yes, angel?" His breath fanned into your neck, his nose nuzzling into the side. It relaxed you so well that it made you feel worse. Why did you deserve that comfort?

“If this had never happened, if it hadn't been my name, would you have come back to me?" Your body was stiff and freezing. If you had broken Conway's kind, overflowing heart for this kind of love you at least needed to know the truth.

“I'm sorry, I want to keep you so safe, so above it all, but I can't anymore." Finnick shook his head into your shoulder as he sat up, taking a deep breath. His eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep and the fact he was holding back waterworks he didn't want to show anyone. “President Snow, ever since I won-" He was getting choked up on his words and you rubbed his shoulders, trying to relax his tensed muscles. “I'm popular, my love, the Capitol darling and so he lets people buy me." Finnick's voice was so quiet it could have been snapped in half with scissors.

The courage it took for him to open up about that was unfathomable to you so you just wrapped your arms around him as tightly as you could. He'd left because he was ashamed, you felt bile rising in your throat, how could you have ever felt let down by him when he was battling so many demons everyday in isolation?

“Angel, I don't know what this means for you. That's the worst part, that's the selfish part. I should have given you more time to prepare, but I wanted to help you deal, but I can't.” He was crying and it was tearing your soul apart. " You deserve to know what could happen, they've already dubbed you with a nickname, you're so popular, it almost feels inevitable. Yet my heart drops in my chest every time it crosses my mind because you deserve so much better.”

You pulled your body away from his, catching his warm face in your cold hands." So do you.” It felt like a weight had been lifted from his chest as you whispered this out and he embraced you once again. Pulling you back down to lie within the confines of the pillows. He would still struggle to vocalize all of his inner traumas with you, but you were a saving grace. So understanding, someone who at the end of the day he could wrap his arms around feel like he was at home with. Where he would think about collecting sea shells rather than the cruelty of the Capitol.

“I love you." He let his honeycomb voice sit in the stagnant air, but wouldn't let you respond. “I know, my love. I know, you show me all the time."

You had no clue what lay ahead for either of you, but you had each other to help, to understand, to stare at the waters of District 4 with and know in at least that sense you were safer than most.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you so much for reading, comments, reblogs, likes, and feedback is all super appreciated. I have so many more ideas for Finnick but I'd been thinking about the games themselves and needed to get my thoughts out. so if you want to see more of my writing let me know!

@imaegonstargaryenswife0

#finnick odair angst #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair x reader #thg finnick #finnick odair #finnick x you #finnick x reader #finnick imagine #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair x reader angst #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x reader fluff #thg x y/n #thg x reader #thg

402 notes · View notes

starzioo · 3 months

Text

𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐘. 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃.

This is a Draco one shot! I really really love this one shot! Hope you like as much as I do!

WARNINGS: Small angst, small depression, mentions of cheating.

You and Draco normally would never fight, but when you did ohh was it bad. This fight had been over a boy. Nothing got to Draco more than a boy hitting on you. Although everyone knew you were his that didn't stop arrogant boys from trying to steal you away from him. Normally Draco would just shrug it off and hex the boy, but not this time. Rumors spread like wildfire that you and that particular Ravenclaw were seen snogging in the courtyard. You felt the people around you acting different towards you, but you hadn't heard the rumor until one day after classes had ended Draco barged into your dorm shooing away your roommates.

"Y/n?!" Draco raised his voice slightly as we practically slammed the door shut behind him. His booming actions made you shut your book and go to him concerned. "Dray? What's wrong are you okay?" You say distraught cupping his face with your hand. He practically smacked your hand away, causing your brows to furrow. "What's wrong?" You say completely confused. "'You know what's wrong Y/n, don't act dumb." He says glaring down at you. "No, I don't, actually." You say coming straight back at him with the same attitude he was giving you. "You think I wouldn't hear?" "Hear about what.?" You say tilting your head eager to hear what he was on about. "You snogging Larson ofcourse! What else would this be about?!" He says rolling his eyes. You scoff at his wild accusation "Larson? I've never even talked to the boy!" "Oh yeah? Then how is everyone saying how pretty much everyone seen you two?!" He says running his hand through his hair. "I don't know Dray? How would I even have alone time with him? I'm constantly with you!" You say pushing his chest a bit. "Who even told you that rubbish?" You scoff. "Enzo! He came up to me just now talking about what he heard!" "Key words Dray! What. He. Heard. All this nonsense over a rumor? Are you kidding?" He scoffs and rolls his eyes. "Come to me when you wanna actually talk, instead of just denying what's already out." He says sternly as he exits your dorm, slamming the door behind him. "Fuck." You say running your hand through your hair.

That was 2 1/2 weeks ago. Draco had been entirely avoiding you. His recent behavior didn't go unnoticed by the student body. More rumors spreading about you and Draco's relationship status. You had stopped at nothing to figure out the source of the rumor, but nobody seemed to actually know who started it. You wanted to ask Larson but you knew actually going to talk to him would only make matters worse. You had knew Larson had a crush on you, but last you heard of it was over a year ago.

Seeing as you and Draco had the same friend group it was hard for him to dodge you. All the boys were pretty much acting the same as Draco. Pansy seemed to be the only one by your side. You and her had always talked about your relationships and what not. I mean she was the only other girl in the group. You would always talk to her for hours on end about how good of a boyfriend Draco was. She was the first person you told about your small crush on him. She had been helping you through these two excruciating weeks. On the days you couldn't even get yourself out of bed she would be there with tea and breakfast. She let you cry into her arms on the restless nights where all you needed was a hug. She was practically your guardian angel at this point. Pansy had tried getting through to Draco for you but all she got was an eye roll and a scoff.

It's late. The rain is pattering lightly against the windows of your dorm. With your hands covering your face you lean into Pansy's hug. Her warm embrace soothing your emotions. Your sharp cries fill the room as she makes a small. 'shhhshhshhh' sound as she rubs your back. "I mean Pansy, I don't even know what to do anymore...There's no way I can fix this...I love him so much but he won't let me get through to him.." You say between cries. "I know..I know" She says gently. "Pansy, you know I would never do that. I would never even think about hurting him!" You cry into her knit sweater. She ushers gently to you. "I don't know what to do...I just...I can't do this anymore.." That was Pansy's final straw. She hated to see you like this. She hated Draco even more for not even making an effort for you. "That's it. I'm done." She says released you from her hug and standing up. "Where are you going..?" You wipe the tears away from your eyes. "I'm gonna go rip that prick a new one." She says determined as she leaves your dorm, practically stomping to Draco's dorm. Not knocking she barges in, Draco,Theo, and Blaise all immediately turning their heads. "Draco. If you don't do something about what's going on with you and Y/n, you're going to completely lose her. Me and you both know that all those things being said about her and Larson were complete bullshit! Break up with her, fine by me, I can help her though that. But you sitting in here acting like you don't care? Not gonna fly. She's been locked up in her room for two weeks Draco?! Not eating, not drinking, not even sleeping. Are you not even concerned for her?" Pansy yells in one breath. The boys all just stare back at her completely silent. "Are you gonna say something or not? Sitting there looking completely fucking stupid isn't helping." Pansy is fuming. "I-" "I-I- You sound fucking stupid! Do something before I cut your dick off." Pansy says sternly and then barges back out of the room. She comes back up to you acting as if nothing had just happened. Wrapping you in another hug wiping your tears away.

It had been a couple days since Pansy had absolutely left Draco speechless. You sit alone in your room once again. Your roommates were out doing who knows what. Over the past few weeks your roommates had drifted away from you. After they noticed you weren't just gonna go back to your usual self, going out with them, going on study dates, they just left you alone. In your time of need they just left you. Pansy had told you she was gonna be studying all day but to just come to the library if you needed her. You sit on your bay window watching the leaves fall from the trees. You've been completely lost in thought. Wondering why Draco didn't believe you. Wondering how he could just ignore you. Those thoughts were constantly consuming your mind. Your body had fell numb. The constant slightly achy sensation in your chest wouldn't go away no matter how much you wanted it to. Your legs curled up to your chest, your head resting on your knees. You stayed in that exact position for who knows how many hours, just thinking.

You hear a familiar knock on the door. You don't even turn your head to look, not even the thought of getting up to answer the door had crossed your mind. The door slowly opens when Pansy came up to you gently rubbing your back. "I want you to come to dinner...If not good being locked up in here Y/n..." She says softly. "He's gonna be there." You say quietly. "We don't have to sit with them I just want you to stretch your legs and actually get a full meal." She says lightly. "I'm good." You say still not turning to her. She sighs, "Y/n, you're coming to dinner." She says as she walks to your wardrobe picking out some actual clothes for you to wear. She picks out a simple white long sleeve tight fitting shirt and a pair of plain grey joggers. She ushers you to get up and go get changed. You slip on your ugg slippers and you both were out the door. She basically drags you to the great hall. A groan coming from you when you see the doors. You can already hear the noise of students chattering and dishes clinking. When you enter the hall the usual warm aroma embraced you. The smell of chicken and steamed vegetables flowing through the air. As more people noticed you and Pansy you could hear whispers growing. You and Pansy sit down on the far end of the Slytherin table. She made sure you didn't have to cross paths with Draco. She sits next to you and she starts plating up for you grabbing you all sorts of foods. "Eat up!" She chippers whilst plating food for her self. You sit there just poking at your food occasionally taking a small bite. You knew Draco was staring at you. You could feel his all familiar gaze. You payed no attention to his intense eyes on you. Instead you just engaged in the same small one sided conversation Pansy was having with you. You have your fork lazily resting in your hand as you poke and pick at the roasted chicken on your plate. After a few minutes you finally raise your head and gently say, "Hey Pans, I think I'm gonna just go sleep now? I dunno I'm just tired." She looks at you with remorseful eyes. "Okay...i'm gonna finish my food and I'll be there in a few." She flashes a small smile.

You walk back to your dorm. Heading straight there. You kick your shoes off and lay down on your bed. You hear a small rhythmic knock on the door. "Come in Pans, I thought you were gonna finish eating?" You say turning around and sitting up to find Draco. A remorseful look on his face, he held bags upon bags of expensive gifts. Your face drops slightly and your eyes begin to water. The both of you just stay silent staring back at one another. As a tear streams down the side of your face you stand up, "What are you doing here?" You question, your voice small. He places all the gifts on your bed, he softly grabs your hands. "Y/n...I'm sorry...I'm so fucking sorry...I don't know how I can fix this. What I put you through. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. I never wanted to hurt you. I just...I didn't know how to feel or what to say...I-I want to ask for your forgiveness. I never want to see you like this again. I promised myself I would never hurt you..." His once stoic eyes now turned glossy. "I'll do anything...anything, for you to forgive me. I pushed myself away from you because I knew I didn't have the right words for you. I didn't want to come here and give you some bullshit apology, but look at me now." He lightly laughs, letting a tear fall down his face. "Over these past few weeks I learned that I can't be apart from you. My heart belongs to you and only you. I should've never believed lies over you. Y/n, I love you." He brings your knuckles to his lips, planting soft kisses across your hands. "Please Y/n say something..." His eyes glancing all over your face, trying to read the expression you had. Your eyes still glossy. Your mind was blank, but every word he said took a place in your heart. "Please Y/n, just talk to me-" You cut him off by standing on the tops of your toes, laying a soft kiss on his lips. For him the kiss was unexpected, he was expecting you to kick him out and never speak to him again. Kissing Draco again was something you've yearned for for weeks. You miss the feeling of having him near. His cold hands but yet warm chest. The way he always held your hand or had an arm stretched across your shoulders. Everything about him. His laugh. His smile. The way his expression softened when he looked at you. All you wanted was to hold and to have him again. Regardless of the past weeks, your heart ached to have him close.

Your hands glide to his face, pulling him a bit closer, before leaning back. His hands hang on your waist. He leans his head on yours. "I never want to let go of you again Y/n." He says softly letting a couple more tears drop from his crystal eyes. You brush them away with your thumb. As you caress his face gently you lay another soft kiss on his velvet lips. "I forgive you Dray..." You say flashing a weak smile. He lets out a small sigh of relief. "I uhm...I got you a few things..." He says gently pulling away guiding you to your bed. His fingers lightly intertwined with yours. You finally take a closer look at all the boxes and bags. You let out an airy laugh at the sight of the red velvet and black Cartier and Chanel packaging that lay on your bed. "You didn't have to..." You say looking back up at Draco with your eyes once again filling with tears. "But I did..." He wipes away your tears swiftly. You sit down on the edge of your bed admiring the heart shaped boxes of red roses. You open the small Chanel package first you open it to see a line up of 3 Chanel fragrances. You then go to the bigger package revealing a Chanel 2.55 bag. Your jaw drops, you can't formulate words with the sight of the expensive materials infront of you. "I know you've been wanting that one for awhile." He says giving you a warm smile. You jump up into his arms. "Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you." You babble into his chest. "We'll open the other ones." He says gesturing you to the small Cartier boxes. You open one to see a beautiful pair of small gold hoop earrings. You go to the next small box it reveals a pair of white gold stud earrings that have a pearl as the center piece. "Dray...this is too much..." You say in awe.

"No it's not...I would give you the world if I could...and that still wouldn't be enough." His eyes linger on the rest of your gifts. You open the second to last box to see a gold love band. You feel guilty at the amount of money this must've costed. He grabs the last small box that lays on the bed and sits next to you. "I meant it when I said I would give you the world and more...Even that wouldn't make up for what I put you through. Y/n I can't ever let you go again. I won't let anything or anyone get between us again." He says softly as he opens the box. Inside the red velvet box lays a white gold ring that's covered in cushion cut diamonds. Your eyes widen at the sight. In this moment you could've sworn he was proposing. "I want to give this to you as a promise ring. To promise you that I'll never leave your side like that again. That I love you for aslong as you love me. To show my love and devotion to you." "Dray...I can't take that..." You continue staring down at the rock. "But you can...I want you to...Y/n I need you to." He says tucking loose hairs behind your ear. He gently takes the diamond littered ring out of the box and slides it onto your ring finger. He lays a gentle kiss on your temple. "The only time I want you to take it off is when I replace it with a ring that makes you Mrs. Malfoy." He says lightly laughing placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

You ended up keeping that ring on forever. When Pansy saw it she thought Draco had proposed. I mean we all knew Draco had money but the ring he gave you showed that he had money. You flashed the ring all around school. Allowing your friends to gawk at it as much as they wanted. You loved that everyone knew that you two were back together. Although more rumors spread that you two were engaged. I mean who wouldn't think that with the size of the rock you had on your figure? I guess diamonds really are a girls bestfriend.

=======

Muahehehe I literally love this.

132 notes · View notes

obsessedfics · 6 months

Text

Soft Rain: Gojo Satoru x Reader (SMUT! Mature/Explicit) Part 2

I want to first say I usually try to find a photo that fits the aesthetic of the story but this one was way too good to walk away from. Everyone enjoys this gem <3. Also, this fic because it's too damn long is split up into two parts. Part 1 is already up and is linked here. Highly recommend reading it first before this one so you don't get confused.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*Rating:Mature/Explicit (Sexual scenes)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*Summary: You are in a coffee shop one rainy day when a sad beautiful stranger enters. Slowly, you open up to each other in the warm confinement of the cafe. Little did you know that you would fall in love with this man, and he with you.

I wrote this from the perspective of seeing Satoru with his barriers down. No masks, no facades, just him when he's alone with his haunting thoughts. I wanted to give him a more human perspective and touch on some of the things that plague his mind. I know I have been MIA for quite some time, if you were someone who was waiting for this I am sorry! Life has been a rollercoaster recently but I am finally back to being in a place of stability. This is certainly a longer fic, so I hope you all enjoy it. As always feel free to let me know your thoughts in the comments below!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*Word Count: 25k+

October: Halloween, Shibuya

I know it’s Halloween, but does there have to be so many people outside?!

You began pushing your way through the crowds of people, ignoring the press of anxiety in your chest. All you needed to do was make it to the train station so you could go home, but it seemed as you got closer to the Shibuya Hikarie Building the throng of bodies got tighter.

Ugh, maybe I should just find a hotel for the night.

With a huff of air passing your lips, you make to turn around, but you hear something strange through your headphones.

Doubting yourself, you pull out one bud.

“ Bring Satoru Gojo. ”

Satoru… Gojo?

People chanted these words over and over again, stretching down to the train tracks.

What the fuck is going on?

Swallowing your anxiety, you begin pushing your way inside the building. The clusters of bodies became thicker. Their skin brushed yours as you continued to the center. You ignored the foreign touch, pushing your intrusive thoughts to the back of your mind.

Is it who I think it is? Or am I just being delusional?

Once inside, you couldn’t believe your eyes.

There he was, hands in his pockets, hovering right in the middle of the building, staring straight down to the train tracks.

“I can fly!”

Your eyes widened. Running to the edge while elbowing through sweaty bodies. You needed to be closer; to confirm what you are seeing.

Is it him? Am I hallucinating right now?

As soon as you’re at the edge, you call out his name, but the crowd drowns out your voice. You shout as loud as you can, but you might as well be whispering. The crowd's anxious chatter washes out your voice, rendering your desperate shouts useless.

Then he descends to the basement, a murderous aura following in his wake.

An article from 2006 pops into your head.

Satoru Gojo, head of the Gojo Clan, pinnacle of the Jujutsu world.

Without a second thought, you break out in a sprint to the stairs. People stare at you in confusion, but you ignore them, shoving your way through their bodies. His words play in your mind, puzzle pieces falling into place.

“I am the strongest sorcerer of this generation.” “…my role is incredibly isolating.”

Something is wrong.

You run, taking two steps at a time, hand ghosting over the railing for support. You knew you were useless, and if he was in any trouble you wouldn’t be able to do anything. But you also couldn’t do nothing . Not when he was right in front of you, not when you spent weeks��thinking about him.

He lingered on your heart like a tattoo – permanent and painfully hard to get rid of. If you loved him, you didn’t know. But you do know your soul yearns to be with him.

Please be safe. I don’t give a shit how strong you are, don’t be stupid.

Bursting through the doors of the basement floor, you’re met with a sea of bodies. You couldn’t see anything other than people dressed in Halloween costumes for miles.

Cursing inwardly, you push past them, elbows out to your sides. Their bodies brush your skin, and you ignore your itching flesh. The only thing on your mind was getting to him, was seeing him.

Sweat coated you from head to toe, you could hear a commotion up ahead, but you were still too far away.

Your heart raced against your chest so hard, you were afraid it was going to burst. Faint screams filled your ears, but you ignored them. It was like you were possessed, the burn in your legs didn’t matter, the thin air in your lungs didn’t bother you, you just wanted him.

People started pushing their way into the tracks as the screams became clearer and clearer. Then suddenly, they stopped.

Dead silence rang out.

Huh?

Bodies stop moving in an instant, but you don’t. You see Satoru move at a blinding speed. Blood splatters all around you, coating your skin in its warm, sticky substance. You don’t even have time to process anything. The world seems to be fast-forwarded, and you can’t comprehend the sight before you.

Then the area clears.

He stops, breath heavy with blood on his cheek as he takes in the carnage along with a small box in front of him.

“Satoru–”

“Gate open,”

The cube box opens, revealing its fleshy body with an eye that stares right at Satoru. He makes to move away but a man with long black hair and a stitched scar across his head steps into view, calling out warmly to him.

You watch as Satoru freezes, disbelief in his wide blue eyes.

He asks the theatrically dressed man who he is, anger and confusion dancing in his tone.

The moment the answer leaves the black-haired male's mouth, all air evaporates. The eye sticks to Satoru’s body, rendering him helpless.

Suguru Geto?

Satoru’s words flash in your mind.

“I haven’t talked to anyone about Suguru since it happened…” “No, but you could see it that way. He… Was like the other half of me. Someone I could trust. I knew with him, I could let go and be myself. I could breathe…” “He’s dead. It’s been a year,”

There’s no way. This is fucked. I need to do something, maybe a distraction–

Satoru’s eyes flash to you, only meeting yours for a second, but he makes it count by mouthing:

RUN.

You stagger back a step, foot catching on the rail as Satoru starts shouting at the other male – his dead best friend, asking who he is.

Turning around, you move your leadened legs, each step feeling as if you were pulling a freight train.

“My six eyes tell me… That you’re Suguru Geto. But my soul knows otherwise! Hurry up and answer!! WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!”

The anger and pain in his voice was so guttural, that it rattled your soul.

What the fuck is going on?!

You cry silently, forcing your body to run away, even though everything in you told you to turn around. You knew you’d die if you did, so you kept moving through the tears.

Dead deformed bodies were littered all around you with blood staining the tracks red. You had to force your eyes to the sky, afraid you’d vomit.

He’s only subdued, sealed. Not dead. Not dead.

Despite yourself, you return your eyes to the floor to search the dead bodies' faces, fearful that one of them will be his.

You were panting when you reached the stairs, but you continued pressing on, only repeating one thing to yourself;

Not dead.

—

Shibuya was pandemonium.

People, who you assumed were curse users, are fighting everywhere. You couldn’t see what exactly they were fighting, but you could feel it. The wrongness.

Your mind was racing, you didn’t know what to do. Anxiety and bile crawled up your throat, as your body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. Your legs were numb and your heart was beating erratically.

I need to get out of here.

Eyes scanning your surroundings, you move, aiming for downtown, away from the central fighting point. But when the edge becomes clearer, you see that people are frantically pressing against an invisible wall.

A barrier of some sort–

“NANAMIIIII!”

This name is being shouted from the top of a tall building seemingly in the middle of the sector.

Whoever is yelling has some lungs on them… I can’t get distracted, I have to move.

Panic began bubbling up in your chest you ran as fast as you could, ducking into a small department store, immediately pulling down the metal guard gate and locking it.

You pressed your back to the glass doors, head tilted to the ceiling, breaths heavy and uneven.

Am I going to die here?

You look down at your body.

Blood covered you, staining your khakis and shirt. It clung to your skin and matted your hair. The feeling is disgustingly sticky and the smell of iron assaults your senses, nearly making you gag.

Moving away from the doors, you explore the department store while your body shakes. You needed to move, otherwise countless strangers' dead faces would flash in your mind, making your only thought about their mixed blood covering you.

It seemed as if you were the only person in the building, so you located the seat behind the front desk and sat down.

So many people died, and Satoru… He’s in a box.

You felt so incredibly numb.

You came to Shibuya to buy a few things from your favorite thrift store, but then this happened. Nothing made sense and you couldn’t wrap your head around why so many people passed out and you didn’t.

Leaning back in your chair, you loosed a shuddering breath.

“What the fuck.”

Then the world shook.

—

Megumi was on duty for the evacuation team after the Shibuya Incident. Gojo was sentenced to death and so was Principal Yaga, along with the reinstatement of Yuji’s execution.

This is troublesome.

He entered a department store on the edge of town, fully expecting no one to be present due to having to break the locked gate.

“Hello, is anyone here?” He calls out, voice tired and raw from the night prior. His eyes disinterestedly scan the aisles, until something moves.

A woman, covered in dried blood from head to toe, steps out behind an aisle, hammer poised to attack him. Immediately he puts up his hands, summoning his cursed technique for protection.

“I am not here to hurt you, just here to help you out of the disaster area,” Megumi spoke slowly, but the woman only tightened her hands around the handle of the weapon.

“The name Satoru Gojo, what does it mean to you?” Her voice, soft and calm, asks him. There was no edge to it, despite the murderous intent of her body language.

“He’s my teacher.”

What is wrong with this lady? Is she asking because she was forced to ask for him last night? But all that blood… There’s no way she was at the tracks, she wouldn’t be here if she were.

The woman nodded once, then set down the hammer, approaching him with caution.

“I am… I know him, in a way.”

Oh no, not another one.

“Last night, I followed him down to the basement. I am a normal person, so if he was fighting curses, I don’t know. But I saw him get put in this ancient box covered with eyes. The person who did it is Suguru Geto, but… I think someone is inhabiting his body. That’s all I know, I hope it helps.”

The woman spoke clearly without any fear, but Megumi only became more confused.

“There’s no way you would be here though. We’re still removing the unconscious bodies of civilians from the station. Why were you not affected?”

She simply shrugged her shoulders.

“I don’t know, don’t ask me. The rest of Japan, is it safe?”

The way she spoke caught him off guard. So matter-of-fact and clear, but her body shook. Clearly, she was disturbed but trying not to show it.

She’s not a sorcerer, but she knows about Gojo’s significance. Were they close? Did he tell her everything?

Megumi tried to remember if his teacher mentioned any non-sorcerer woman he was interested in, but nothing came to mind.

“For now, but the situation is unstable. There’s no telling what’s going to happen with that guy gone. We’re going to do everything we can to save him, but I am not sure if it’s possible.” He spoke honestly and the woman nodded, grabbing a piece of paper and writing something down on it.

“This is my number. I’ll do my independent research. In a week, call me and we’ll check bases.”

With that, she gave him a warm smile and left.

Who is she?

November:19 Days After the Incident

You were sitting on your couch, petting Noir anxiously when you got the call.

Did it work?

Sliding the green answer button, you shakily pressed the device to your ear.

“Miss L/N? This is Yuji Itadori. He’s free.”

Thank god.

“Thank you.”

The weight on your shoulders lifted and the anxiousness died.

Not dead.

“I’ll let him know you helped us.”

“Don’t worry about it, he’s out. That’s all that matters. Be safe.”

Hanging up the phone, you press your nose into Noir’s fur. Her soft warmth seeped into your chest as her purs tickled your skin, relaxing you.

You cry softly, hugging her body close to yours. Knowing that this changed nothing, he still had so many painful troubles. But he is free, he is alive , and that’s all that matters to you.

Regardless of what your place in his world is.

—

“You said a civilian helped you guys expedite my release?”

Is she safe? Was I distracting enough for them not to notice her presence?

“Yes. Fushiguro found her and she relayed what she saw on the tracks during your fight.” Yuji explained brightly, even though his friend was now Sukuna’s vessel.

There’s no way anyone saw what happened. No one except…

He shot out of his seat, surprising Yuji.

“What’s her name?”

“Huh? Oh, it’s Miss L/N? She said she knows you.”

Satoru scrunched his brows.

She never told me her last name.

“Her first name, what is it?”

Yuji looked at him as if he lost it but he didn’t care.

“Y/n, I think?”

He was already moving.

“Eh? Where are you going?!”

“I’ll be back!”

—

Rain fell heavily from the gray sky, but not a drop touched him.

She’s dead. You killed her, just like you did to Suguru. Your strength is a curse – not a gift. You’re cursed to be alone.

I am not my past. It does not define me.

Running as fast as he could, he ignored the thoughts invading his mind, pushing them away with her shared mantra. Images of her body, bloodied and disfigured threatened his vision, but he blinked it away; refusing to let his fear control him.

Soon he reached the familiar home that is tucked away from the noise of the city – a sanctuary. He hesitated, the familiar feeling of dread washing over him, making his legs leadened.

Confirm her safety then leave.

Taking a deep breath in, he forced himself to move, mentally putting in the effort to place one foot in front of the other, until he reached the door.

Satoru raised a shaky hand and knocked, but there was no answer.

Fear crawled up his throat, making it hard to breathe.

Please.

Swallowing his dry saliva, he twisted the door handle, surprised to find it unlocked.

He closed his eyes and held his breath. If she wasn’t here, he would search all of Japan until he found her.

He had until December…

Stepping inside the house, the familiar scent of her flooded his senses, making his legs feel hollow.

Be here, be safe .

Slowly, he opened his eyes.

There she was as if nothing happened.

She had fallen asleep on the couch, the soft glow of golden lights kissing her skin as Noir curled against her body. They looked peaceful enough to make him sigh in relief.

However, when he stepped closer, he saw the tear streaks on her cheeks.

That peaceful image shattered.

Satoru moved closer, not trusting his eyes to tell him the truth.

Noir woke first, big blue eyes recognizing him as she moved out of her owner's arms, careful to not wake her. The feline came up to him, nudging his shaking legs as if telling him to go to her.

Why are you crying?

Holding his breath, he approached her sleeping figure. Anxiety swirled in his chest as he tried to make sense of his feelings.

Should I turn around now? You’d be happier without me, right?

Noir nudged him again, pulling him from his thoughts.

Biting his inner cheek, he crouched down so he was now eye level with her body. For a moment, he allowed himself to take in the sight in front of him.

Soft even breaths kissed his cheeks and he watched the steady rise and fall of her chest. It deafened his thoughts, replacing them with overwhelming relief.

She’s alive. This isn’t a dream.

“Y/n,” he called and she stirred.

Satoru watched as she blinked away her sleep, eyes adjusting to her surroundings, confusion on her face until finally she looked his way.

Her lovely eyes met his, soft and kind – the eyes that made him feel seen .

“Satoru?” she breathed, taking his face in her hands, eyes searching his as if confirming he was real.

You’re alive. They seemed to whisper, relief swimming in her irises.

He nodded, wrapping his hands around her wrists, and leaning into her warmth. His blood sang from the contact, tension ebbing out of his body.

Her presence alone was enough to calm his soul.

“You followed me, even though you knew it was dangerous.”

He wasn’t sure if was breathing. His eyes scanned every inch of her body, checking for injury, any sign of pain, thankfully finding nothing. But it didn’t quell the anxiety in his chest. The uneasiness still pressed at his throat, stealing his breath, making it hard for him to think let alone speak.

His only worry when he was in the damned box was that she was alive. That she wasn’t split apart into a thousand unrecognizable pieces. Ash consumed by Sukuna's fire, or buried under the rubble, or worse…

The woman smiled sadly as if she could read his every thought. Sitting up so she could fully face him, she gently rubbed the pads of her thumbs along his cheeks – an attempt to soothe him. He let himself fall to his knees, strength leaving his body. Her hair softly fell in a curtain around them as lightly calloused fingers played with the tips of his ears anxiously.

Running his thumbs along the soft skin of her wrists, he took in her features. The serene allure was still there, but it was now mixed with something else – and it was far more beautiful. It’s something that existed only when she looked at him.

“How could I not when you were all I could think about?” her answer finally came, cutting through the silence.

She traced his face in wonder and he shuddered under her touch.

“You could’ve died,” he whispered, fingers digging into the flesh of her wrists.

He’s seen people he’s cared about die. He killed his only best friend with his bare hands. However, it was different with her. All those people knew that they could die with every mission. But this woman, who had eyes that whispered soft serenity, and a smile that made his heart melt, if she died – he didn’t know if he could come back from it.

“I know.” her words, a broken croak, pulled at his deep-rooted fear.

He saw his reflection in her eyes. He looked like a desperate man praying to his God; wonder, awe, and disbelief tracing his features.

“I wouldn’t have been able to protect you.”

Satoru hated those words. Admitting that he was helpless, noticing her presence too late to save her from the sight of countless dead bodies. He let himself get consumed by his emotions, by the thrill of a good fight, to the point it rendered him useless.

I’m useless. She could’ve died, and it would’ve been all my fault. It would have happened all over aga–

With fingers sinking into his skin, she forced him to meet her glass eyes.

“But you did, Satoru. I got away. I am alive because of you.”

What?

“While you were powerless, you saved me.”

His eyes widened as her tears flowed down her cheeks onto his. Wet rain kissing his flesh, just like when they met.

“I… Saved you? I don’t understand, I only told you to run.”

She shook her head, taking his hand and placing it over her beating heart. Her warmth, raw and real beneath his fingertips, chased away his fear. With each beat of the muscle grounding him to reality, to her.

Alive, breathing, real.

“I was frozen. If you hadn’t told me to run, I would’ve rushed to your side out of desperation. You saved me.”

Her fingers tangled into his hair. The pads of her fingertips lovingly pressed into his scalp, easing his anxiety.

“You. Saved. Me.”

“When it mattered the most, I was unable to save those who I deeply cared for.”

I saved her?

The truth of her words clanged in his chest, stitching an old wound on his heart, stealing his breath away.

Blinking, he met her eyes fully.

Run away. His mind whispered.

Let go of your fear. His heart screamed.

And like a man possessed, he grabbed her face, closing the gap between their bodies.

Desperately, he pressed his lips to hers. Salty tears coated his tongue and her hands fisted into his hair. The soft, warm press of her lips against his drove him mad, making him grab her body, pulling her closer to him. She fell to his lap, legs lightly wrapping around his waist as he deepened the kiss. He allowed his fingers to tangle in the strands of her silken hair, tongue pushing past her lips, drowning in everything that is her .

Soft rose and sandalwood flooded his nose, the taste of bitter-sweet coffee caressed his mouth, muffled moans teased his ears, as her warmth, tranquil and serene, eased his body. Her tears continued to coat their flesh, and he was sure he was crying, too.

For the first time in years, his heart felt light. At this moment, in her arms, he is just Satoru Gojo, nothing else.

It was then, it hit him.

Pulling away from her, he breathed heavily. Saliva coated her swollen lips as she stared into him with eyes hazy and half-lidded. Soft, uneven breaths heated his skin as he ran his thumbs along the flesh of her cheeks.

“I love you,” his voice came out as a quivering whisper. Because he knew this changed nothing between them.

Foreign tears fell from his eyes, pooling at his chin. Y/n only smiled softly, thumbs lovingly wiping away his tears as he did the same to hers.

“How long do we have?”

Sweet lips kissed away his pain, cracking his heart.

“The end of December,”

He traced her features, warm rain coating his skin as he began committing every detail of her to memory.

A small whimper left her lips as she wrapped her arms around his neck, still pressing soothing kisses to his heated cheeks.

Allowing that last iron barrier around his heart to crumble, he buried his face into her neck, arms enclosing her torso, hugging her like a child. He cried into her, clinging onto her small body desperately as years of bottled-up emotions began washing over him.

After Suguru, he never let anyone in, convinced that his strength would always push people away. That he would always be envied, seen as the strongest, never as himself. He drew a line without even knowing it. There was him, and there was everyone else. The touch of others had become so foreign to him, that he forgot what it was like to be embraced – to be loved without expectations.

Here he was, in the arms of a woman who saw the ugliness of his world, the truth of his power, and still looked at him with the same amount of kindness that she did the first day they met. She didn’t falter or become enamored with him. Instead, she just saw him and accepted it without hesitation.

She disregarded her well-being and did everything in her power to help him. The woman, who couldn’t stand the touch of others, pushed her way through hundreds of people for a chance to save him. It wasn’t to gain anything from him, it was purely to ensure he was alive, so her restless soul could be calmed. She didn’t broadcast her efforts, instead, she cried, silently and alone, relieved by the sole fact he was breathing.

That’s all she wanted from him; she wanted him to live .

“Thank you,” he croaked, words incoherent and muffled against her soft flesh.

One hand rubbed his back, as her other stroked his hair. She pressed light kisses to his temple, whispering comforting safety. He wasn’t breathing, his breaths came out in heaves as his chest felt like it was caving in. He became putty in her hands, molding his body to her, needing all barriers between them to cease to exist.

Overwhelming complex emotions continued rushing through him; relief, regret, jubilance, despondence, hope, fear, love…

He allowed these emotions to spill out of him, knowing that he was safe. He knew that with her, it was okay to be human.

To be normal .

—

Satoru’s body, for all its power, trembles beneath your fingertips. He’s on his knees, silently crying into your arms as you soothe his mind.

“It’s okay.”

Soft whispers against his skin as your lips pepper his temple.

Your tears, though feeling like an endless well, slowly stop as his scent comforts you. Fresh summer rain, bright and soothing, coaxes your soul; calming your heart.

I love you.

His broken confession swirled in your mind, making your heart sing in both joy and despair. You wanted to return his feelings, but they got stuck in your throat, refusing to spill from your lips.

Taking his face in your hands, you met his beautiful eyes. Like the clearest sapphires, they peered at you, almost sparkling as his tears coated his long eyelashes.

Ever-so-gently, you wipe away his pain. He smiled sadly at you, turning his cheek to kiss your palm.

“I need you to listen to me,” you whisper and he nods, hands finding your waist, rubbing soft circles into the fabric of your shirt.

Closing your eyes, you let yourself breathe, focusing solely on the rhythmic motion of his fingers and the feeling of his blush-kissed cheeks in your palms.

Taking a deep breath in, you open your eyes, finding your resolve.

“I am not delusional enough to think that I could ever live comfortably in your world. I am also not clueless. I know whatever is going on, you play an important enough role in it that they tried to take you out of the fight.”

His eyes searched yours as you tried to formulate a sentence under his raw, naked gaze.

“But?”

It’s really unfair how beautiful you are.

Inhaling sharply you continue.

“But, I would also be stupid to let you go. I don’t care if it’s selfish, and whatever time I am granted to be with you, so be it…”

Pausing, you place a hand on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat – reminding yourself that he is alive. That this is real.

You’re alive. I won’t let you walk away a second time.

“It’s worth it, you’re worth it. And you can try to hide behind the strong nonchalant exterior, but I see right through it. I see you, Satoru. I accept you, invisible scars and all. Let’s heal our hearts together.”

Satoru smiled. A real smile. One that is unpracticed, and it is just for you.

“I could get hurt, you know that don’t you?” some confidence returned to his wavering voice as his hands slowly traveled up your waist, distracting you from his words.

“Of course. But if I can handle watching you get put into a fleshy eyeball box by the source of your trauma, I can handle you getting hurt.”

Scoffing lightly, you run your fingers through his hair, pushing the strands back from his face, fully taking in his lovely features.

“What if I lose my ability to walk?” he asks sweetly, nuzzling his nose against yours as his hands travel to your bare arms. They ghost over your skin, causing goosebumps to follow in his wake.

“Apparently, you can fly. I suppose if you’re too lazy I can push you around in a wheelchair.”

You run your hands along the length of his chest to his shoulders, feeling the muscle beneath the fitted black t-shirt.

“Hmm, and what if my handsome face gets ruined?” the man mused, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

You were wearing a shirt, but the contact made you jump. You felt him chuckle against you as his hands found your back, fingers dancing up your spine.

“Well, I recall you telling me that you got stabbed square in that pretty face of yours. As it turns out, you’re still very handsome. So while I think the likelihood of someone harming you to the point you are forever maimed is low, I will still love you regardless.”

Running your hands down the length of his arms, you watched as your words settled over him. Then realization sparkled in his eyes as he searched your face for answers, almost as if he didn’t believe the words he just heard.

“Sorry, could you repeat that last part for me? I was a bit distracted.”

Familiar playfulness kissed his tone as his hands cupped your neck, forcing you to hold his stare.

“Which part? The one where I said I think someone scarring you is not very likely?” batting your eyelashes innocently, you smile.

“No no, the good part. Where you said you’re in love with me.”

One hand came to caress your cheek. Long fingers tangled themselves into the strands of your hair, tickling your scalp as your pores drank in his warmth.

“Hm, did I say that? I don’t think that’s what I said.” making a show of biting your bottom lip, you looked elsewhere, pretending to think.

Satoru’s thumb tugged your bottom lip from your teeth, causing you to quickly snap your eyes to his. His lips are pursed into a soft pout as he looks at you expectantly.

“Just once, let me hear you say it.” his words are a soft plea as his fingers dug further into your skin.

Not fair.

Smiling, you bring your knees to the carpet, raising your body so you can take his face in your hands. You feel him shudder under your touch as his eyes never leave yours, desperation consuming his features.

“I love you, Satoru Gojo.”

With those words, the last dark wisp of fear that clutched your heart disappeared in his light.

His lips met yours, hard and fast, all desperation pressing into your body. Your surprised gasp gets swallowed by him as his tongue reclaimed your mouth, filling you with the taste of him; sweet with the undertone of green tea.

His tongue danced with yours, swirling and teasing, relaxing you further into the intoxicating taunt of his muscle. Warm, calloused hands pressed into your cheeks, angling your head so he could further capture your lips. His kiss is passionate and smooth, making your stomach flutter with butterflies as anticipation travels down your spine.

Satoru pulls your tongue deeper into his mouth, sucking on the flesh. You gasp lightly, taking his upper lip between your teeth, slowly running them down the plump skin. He lets out a heavy sigh, and you take the opportunity to return his gift, sucking diligently on his swollen muscle.

Feeling him smile into the kiss, he runs his hands down your arms, to your waist, making you shiver. Fire slowly starts to coat your veins, turning the kiss hungrier – there was a need that wasn’t there previously.

The tips of his fingers dipped under the hem of your shirt, brushing against the bare skin of your back. The light touch made you whimper, body tingling where he made contact with your flesh.

Losing yourself in him, you take his bottom lip between your teeth, biting playfully as you run your hands over his muscled chest. The feeling of him, perfectly soft and firm, beneath your fingers felt heavenly. Satoru let a satisfied groan escape his lips, which you hungrily swallowed, kissing him harder.

Desire replaced innocence as you sank your hips, pleased to find his hardened length brushing your growing need. Satoru sharply bit your lower lip, a shaky breath escaping him as you let your full weight settle on him, enjoying the slightest bit of release it gave you.

Pulling away from the lull of his lips, you meet his heated stare. You both were breathing heavily and Satoru looked too good.

His eyes, though normally bright and alive with brilliant blue, were nearly black due to his dilated pupils. They gazed at you, hazy and half-lidded as his eyelashes fluttered softly against his deeply flushed cheeks. His lips are red and swollen, glistening with your mixed saliva.

The sight alone made your core throb, sending a delicious chill throughout your body.

Satoru removed his hand from your waist to grip your face, squeezing lightly as his thumb traced your lower lip. The way he was looking at you made your knees weak. No man had ever looked at you this way. Not only was it blatant desire, but there was a predatory feel to it, with the undertone of unwavering need .

“If you keep kissing me like that, I won’t be able to stop,” he warned, voice low and gravelly. The words traveled straight to the apex of your thighs as he pressed his thumb harder against your swollen lip.

“Who said I want you to stop?”

Holding his stare, you take that thumb between your lips, pressing your teeth down on the pad, swirling your tongue on the bit of flesh. Satoru inhales sharply as the hand holding your waist tightens – a clear attempt to control himself.

You see your reflection in his eyes, the same primal desire looks back at you.

“Are you sure?” though he asks, his hand is already moving to the hem of your shirt, waiting for you to confirm what he already knows.

“You getting cold feet?” you tease, dipping your hand between your bodies, ghosting your fingers over his abdomen.

You were itching to touch him, to taste him, but you were also going to have fun.

He smirks, slipping his fingers under your shirt, and swirling a gentle finger around your navel. The feeling makes your muscles jerk as fire trails where he touches you. You refuse to let any of that show, only returning his smirk, dragging a nail over his muscled stomach, and taking his tiny little black shirt with you.

“With you,” he pauses, voice a hushed whisper while he splays his palm flat on your stomach, fingertips just barely pressing under the lining of your bra.

“I would never. Besides ,” dragging out the last word dangerously slow, he pushes his length up into you, placing the hand that held your face on the back of your thigh, making you moan. The quick relief jolts through you, but disappears quickly, leaving you wanting more.

Bringing his lips so close to your ear that his hot breath tickles your skin, he whispers,

“ You’re the one who’s trembling. ”

Cocky bastard.

Smiling, you slowly run your lips over the expanse of his neck, lightly licking it with the very tip of your tongue. You feel him shudder beneath you as he breathes heavily in your ear. Licking the shell of his ear, you take the lobe between your teeth as you wrap your hand around the hem of his shirt.

“Hm, I must be cold. Why don’t you warm me up ?”

Giving your ear an appreciative nip, Satoru sighs satisfactorily. The deep sound traveled south, making you place your lips to his neck to hide your noise.

“ Gladly .”

He began pressing slow, hot, wet kisses to the supple flesh of your neck. He trailed his way down to your collarbone as his hands, re-finding the hem of your shirt, tugged at the fabric playfully. The tips of his soft hair tickled your cheek, heightening your sensitivity to his touch.

“You know,” his words are a soft murmur against your skin, but you catch them, humming in response as you run your fingers over the dips of his well-sculpted back.

“I read that the fastest way to warm the body up is when two people are naked. Why don’t we test it out, hm?”

Pressing a kiss between the juncture of his neck and shoulder, you smile into his skin.

“I could learn a survival tactic,”

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you press another kiss to his neck.

“Or two,”

Licking your way to his ear, you whisper.

“ Or three. ”

At your words, Satoru swiftly captures your lips as his hands go to grip the backs of your thighs. Before you knew it he was on his feet, kissing you feverishly while making his way to your room. He shuts the door with one foot, making you laugh against his lips.

Your body comes in contact with your mattress, but you hardly register it as Satoru grinds his erection into you, greedily swallowing the moan he stole from your throat. Your hands find the hem of his shirt, and you tug as your signal. Satoru groans into you, but pulls back at your command, removing his hungry lips to allow you to expose him.

“This is too tiny, I think I should remove it, don’t you?”

Satoru held your smile, spreading his arms wide as you came up to your knees, pulling the thin fabric off his body, revealing the masterpiece beneath.

Sinewy muscle covered the entire length of his torso. His skin, pale and kissed a soft pink, covered various dips and ripples that you wanted to rake your nails down. You drank him in, from the power of his biceps to the dip of his defined adonis belt, mouth growing dry as you thought about what lurks beneath his concealing white pants.

Selfishly, you ran your hands along his body. Starting from his chest you worked your way down to his navel, relishing in the warm feeling of his soft, smooth skin. Satoru tilted his head back, sighing as you continued to marvel at his beauty, tracing every outline of his hard work, memorizing each detail of him as he trembled beneath your touch.

“You really are like a painting, you know,” you murmur in awe and wonder.

It baffled you that you could even remotely hold this man’s interest, let alone be the one on the receiving end of his love. The thought made your heart squeeze, encouraging you to place a kiss to his bare chest, right above his pounding heart.

His hand ran down the length of your hair, as his other came to cup your face. He lovingly stared into your eyes, all the desire of earlier there, but they now gazed at you softly.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n.”

The sincerity of his words makes you smile like an idiot. You bury your face in his chest, listening to the sound of his low laugh. Lovely butterflies tickle your stomach as you lace your hands around his neck.

Slowly, he makes you meet his eyes. You’re both grinning like children, but he had a devilish hint to his.

“Why hide that smile from me?” pouting, he brings his face close to yours, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

Laughing lightly while leaning into his sweet gesture, you nuzzle your nose into his soft hair.

“Because you make me happy.” the answer is honest and you press a kiss on his head.

He hums into you as his hands find your shirt, playfully pulling it up to your neck, but not over your head. He blocks the fabric from leaving your skin as he trails feather-light kisses along your jaw.

“Do I? Why’s that?”

His words are soft against your skin, tickling you, making it hard to think.

“I–”

Pulling back from his lips, you meet his eyes.

“I used to think that people who fell in love quickly were idiots blinded by rose-colored glasses.” biting your lip, you consider if you should continue. Satoru catches your hesitation and lightly rubs your lower back, silently encouraging you.

Let go of your fear.

“But now I know, there is never a ‘right time’ to fall in love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single moment. You make me happy because you could’ve had anyone else in this world, and you chose me. The average girl who you met in a coffee shop on a rainy day. You make me feel seen Satoru. I don’t have to pretend with you.”

Satoru smiles, bright and alive. His hands come up to your cheeks, cupping them gently as he holds your gaze.

“Before you, I was convinced that I would live my life alone. That I would never find someone who would ever make me feel whole again. But… You are my sunlight, which I stand in, warmed and seen.”

With your heart feeling like it’s going to burst out of your chest, you press your lips to his.

“You see me so poetically,” those words, which he had once said to you, leave your lips in a soft murmur.

His laugh tickles your lips as he lightly shakes his head, thumbs rubbing your heated cheeks. Satoru deepens the kiss, tongue sweeping past your barriers, sweetly dancing with your own. You melt into him, leaving every worry behind you.

Slowly, he guides your body to the mattress. You feel his warm stomach press against yours as he settles himself between your clothed hips. He doesn’t do anything except kiss you.

It’s a slow, passionate kiss. One full of love and appreciation, conveying emotions that words fail to capture. Your whole body felt alive, attuned with every breath, moving with each rise and fall of his chest, reacting flawlessly to the press of his lips. Your blood sang, electrified by his touch, eager to desperately drink him in.

Satoru’s hands move from your face to the crumpled fabric of your shirt, removing his lips from yours momentarily to rid your neck of the cloth. The music of the kiss changes – now singing a more sensuous tune.

You feel his thick member throb against your thigh as his hands run down the lengths of your arms, fingers enclosing your wrists. He moves his lips from yours to your cheek, kissing his way to your sensitive ear. Then he licks behind the shell, making you audibly gasp as he brings your hands over your head, holding them down with one hand as his other trails the side of your waist.

Shivering beneath his explorative touch, you clench and unclench your hands, trying to ground yourself to reality. With each brush of his fingers, your muscles flinch, pure excitement and anticipation coursing through your touch-starved veins.

“You’re so responsive~” he coos hotly into your ear. You shift under him, hoping to find relief in the friction, but he removes his lower body from yours. The movement makes you pout, but it opens the space for his hand to ghost over your bare stomach.

Wet lips kiss their way down your neck down to the length of your collarbone. You bite your lower lip when he runs his teeth lightly against the bone. Your body jumps at the new feeling, earning yourself his chuckle as his hand dips under the band of your bra, brushing your left breast ever-so-lightly.

Long fingers slowly make their way behind your back, easily unclasping the concealing material to only partially remove it from your breasts. He pushes the fabric up to your chest as his lips trail your sternum. His hair brushes against your breasts, and you clench your hands, nails biting into the flesh of your palms. The sensation not only tickles you, but it shocks your hyper-sensitive nerves.

You meet Satoru’s eyes. He’s drinking in your every reaction, a smirk on his lips as he watches you squirm beneath him. Readying to say a smart remark, you begin to push back on his hand, but he trails his tongue to your nipple – effectively replacing the words in your throat with a shaky sigh.

Satoru swirls his tongue around your rosey bud, slowly and expertly warming your breast with his mouth. He takes more of the plump flesh into his mouth, sucking diligently as he lets his teeth graze the sensitive peak. You gasp at the feeling, and he groans in response. Each of his intoxicating movements goes straight to that firey pit in your stomach, which only grows hungrier at his touch.

“Mm, Satoru,” you moan breathlessly as he takes your nipple between his teeth, applying the right amount of pressure to the bud as his free hand comes to work your unattended breast.

He hums into your skin, sending delicious shivers down your spine as you close your eyes, losing yourself to the lull of his lips. Long nimble fingers work your breast harmonously with his mouth. They roll, pinch, and tease you as his tongue flicks and swirls. You mewl lightly as he switches breasts, giving the same treatment to your other that he gave the first.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs into your skin, biting into the flesh of your breast, causing you to yelp in surprise.

You open your eyes, meeting his intense blue. He’s smiling against your skin as he ghosts his lips over your ribs, tongue trailing the outline of your tattoo. Your body shivers under him, eager for more as his head dips lower, closer to where you want him the most.

“You’re the beautiful one,” the words come out as a sigh as he presses a kiss to your hip, right above the band of your sweatpants.

“Hm,” he hums, trailing an elegant finger from your sternum to your navel, dipping the digit under the band.

Satoru makes a show of kissing his way across your stomach, from one hip to the other, soft strands of his hair tickling you along the way.

You squirm under him, wishing desperately to touch his hair. Longing to run your fingers through it, to ground yourself to this reality. He senses it, too. Because he gives you a knowing smile as he dips his hand under your pants, just barely brushing the top of your pelvis.

“Getting impatient, Y/n?” he asks playfully as he takes his finger, lightly tugging a corner of your pants, exposing more of your hip to his tempting mouth.

“I want to touch you,” finding some confidence, you push against his restraining hand, silently cursing his immeasurable strength.

“Let’s see,” Satoru pauses, places his head on your thigh softly, then looks up at you innocently. The pressure is dizzying. So you count your breaths to stay alert, to not close your eyes and lose yourself in his presence.

“I’ll release your hands as long as you stay still, can you do that for me, baby?”

There was a mischievous look in his eyes, one that made your throat dry and had you clenching your thigh muscles.

“Y-Yes?”

You couldn’t hide your confusion, but he only smiled at the sight. His hand released your wrists and you immediately moved to shake out the numbness of your arms.

“May I?”

His fingers dance around the edge of your sweats, eyes patiently awaiting your response.

Eagerly, you nod your head.

Satoru, still with his devilish smile, removed your sweatpants from your body. He then slid off the bed, dropping to his knees as he dragged your body to the edge. You rose yourself up on your elbows, not hiding your want from him. But also, you took in the sight – Satoru Gojo, half naked, and on his knees for you.

His hands spread your knees for him, opening your legs wide. You, though still clothed in only your underwear, feel the air hit your heat. It was then you noticed how wet you were, and you know he noticed it too.

Gently placing your legs over his shoulders, Satoru places a slow kiss on your calf. You watch as he drags his wet lips up your leg, pressing kisses to your tender skin. The higher he goes, the more sensitive you become, finding it increasingly difficult to not shift as muscle-jerking tingles hit you.

Your hands find the soft strands of his hair as he reaches your inner thigh, now dangerously close to your need. You feel his breath kiss your heated skin, forcing you to clench his hair so you don’t move. Smiling, he presses his lips to the crease between your thigh and pussy making you sharply inhale. You cross your toes as the shiver runs through you, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“You’re already so wet for me,” Satoru hums appreciatively, then he places a kiss on your clothed mound.

You barely have time to register the feeling, because he licks a zig-zag stripe up your heat, stopping just before meeting your clit. He moans into you as your taste lightly coats his tongue. The vibration makes you squeeze your eyes shut as you moan softly, bringing your hand up to your mouth, and biting down on your pointer finger.

“Mmph!”

Your yelp gets muffled into your skin as Satoru lays his tongue flat against your entrance, pressing his hot mouth against you, then drags it up .

The brief pleasure of him brushing your clit has you trembling. He doesn’t stop till he reaches your navel, tongue dipping into the crevice, swirling around the sensitive skin only to retrace its path down, stopping just above your throbbing clit. His tongue moves left and right lazily, and his saliva coats the cloth of your underwear, intensifying the feeling, but it’s incomplete.

“Ah, Toru’ – please.” your desperate plea fumbles out of your mouth as saliva begins traveling down your chin. You want – no, you need him on you, without any barriers.

“Use your words for me pretty girl~” his words are hot and heavy against you, making you moan. And just for emphasis, he gives your needy clit a light flick of his tongue, making you bite your finger harder.

He knows what you want, but he wants to hear you beg for it.

“Please,” you breathe, unable to think.

His hands join the party now. One goes to remove your finger from your mouth as his other presses his thumb to your entrance, goading you as his tongue continues to just barely flick your bundle of nerves.

“Please what?” he encourages, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“I-I want you,”

You weren’t sure what you wanted exactly. Part of you wanted him to make you see stars with that dangerous tongue of his, but the other half wanted to know exactly how full you’d feel with him in you.

He laughs lightly against you, planting a kiss on your clit as his thumb pushes past your panties, entering your dripping entrance. All air leaves your lungs as he wraps his mouth against your clothed clit, licking while sucking you as his thumb gently pumps your walls.

A broken string of curses leaves your lips as pleasurable fire dances down your legs. The sudden relief leaves your thoughts tangled and incomplete. It’s sweet and taunting, but you’re stuck, muscle taunt, and breath uneven as you try to keep your body still, unable to fully lose yourself to the pleasure.

“S-Satoru,” you throatily moan his name. He groans into you, fingers gripping yours harder as he replaces his thumb with two long fingers, curling them up into you.

Oh fuck.

“Ah, shit just like that,”

You tilt your head back, enjoying the way his calloused fingers feel against your velvet walls. Again and again, his digits just barely brush against that spongey spot in you, heightening the feeling of his ministrations against your clit.

“Deeper,” you plead, needing him to hit your spot.

Slowly, you open your eyes to see him smirk at you. Then, at your request, he pushes his fingers further into you while curling them up. Your eyes roll back as the new feeling courses through you.

“Like that baby?” he asks, though he knows the answer.

“Mm, yes, fuck just like that,” you answer, barely able to think straight. Your feet start to become unbearably hot as your stomach tightens. Your whole body trembles from both pleasure and restraint, and your leash on yourself is slowly slipping. Your back arches as he continues working you, eliciting obscene noises from you.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he praises and you bite your throaty moan back.

Pressing your palm flat against his scalp, you push his head further into you. Taking your silent plea, he releases your hand to push your soaked panties to the side, tongue finally coming into contact with your bare skin. The intense feeling crashes upon you and you lose control of your limbs. You lock his head into place as you dig your fingers into his hair, grinding yourself against his tongue. His fingers match your unhinged pace and he moans into you, sending sweet vibrations down your clit to that growing bomb in your stomach.

You feel your walls tightening as your high threatens to crash over you. Your moans are now strangled and incoherent as everything now feels so good . Finally, you open your eyes, daring to see the sight in front of you.

Satoru’s lovely eyes burn right through you, heated desire evident on his features. The sight of him, on his knees, between your legs, giving you his devout attention, has you shaking uncontrollably.

“Be a good girl and come for me, Y/n.”

His words are your undoing.

You come violently around his fingers, moaning his name like a prayer, walls clenching and unclenching as your body trembles sweetly. Satoru smiles up at you, removing his fingers from you only to replace them with his tongue.

Bringing those two glistening fingers to your mouth he commands:

“Suck,” then his tongue is back into your entrance, fucking you with the stiff muscle.

And so you do, wrapping your mouth around his fingers, whimpering as you suck diligently all while your orgasm rips through you.

He swipes his nose against your hyper-sensitive bud as he laps you up, tongue swirling and curling inside you. You cry out helplessly, fisting your hands in the sheets as your stomach jerks. The pleasure is numbingly good, but it’s too much.

“S-Satoru– Ah sto– Jesus fucking Christ,” The last part of your broken sentence comes out in English, which grabs the man's attention. Amused blue eyes peer up at you, taking in the sight of the mess he created. His lips glisten with you and they’re pulled into that familiar smirk. You couldn’t help but think he was beautiful, like that of a fallen angel.

He removes himself from your heat, finally taking your ruined panties off your body as you close your eyes, breathing hard and unevenly. You try to collect yourself, but the after-effects of your orgasm still linger in your veins, stealing your attention.

But you are far from satiated, if anything, it left you wanting more .

Blindly, you reach out for his body. Your fingers find his biceps and you tentatively run your hands down his smooth skin, despite the tingle in your fingertips. Satoru plants a sweet kiss on your cheek, then your temple, then your forehead, until he’s placed kisses around your entire face, leaving you with light giggles. His weight returns to your body, and you’re happy to feel his bare legs brush against your own.

“Feel good, baby?” he mumbles dreamily into your skin, still placing soft kisses on your sensitive skin.

Smiling as you trace the outline of his tricep, you open your eyes to find him looking at you sweetly. The sight makes your heart lurch. So you return his kisses, pressing your lips to his heated skin, tasting yourself on his flesh.

“I think,” whispering, you bring a shaky hand to his chin, wiping away some of your desire.

“This speaks for itself. But,”

Kissing the corner of his mouth, you run your other hand down his abdomen, nails lightly digging into every dip and ridge of his defined muscles.

“But?” he hums, and you feel his lips pull into a smile.

Your hand travels south till it reaches his length. You take the girthy member in your hand and pump him once, relishing in the way it jumps in your palm as Satoru inhales sharply.

“I want to taste you, too.”

With your hand that held his chin, you turn his face to you, capturing his lips. Your desire coats your tongue as his muscle dances with yours. You slowly pump his throbbing member, thumb swiping over the tip, coating his soft skin with a bead of precum. Satoru steals your tongue, sucking on your muscle while groaning.

Hooking your legs around his, you flip your bodies so you are now on top of him. You pull back from the kiss to admire the sight. Soft white eyelashes flutter against his red cheeks as you continue pumping his cock.

You watch as his throat bobs up and down and he licks his lips. The image added fuel to your growing fire, filling you with determination to not only please the man before you, but to make him as much of a whimpering mess as he made you.

A playful smirk tugs at your lips as you place a kiss on his neck. You continue working his shaft, focusing mostly on the head, but with only enough pressure to move his skin, but not to truly stimulate him. Your lips travel south, your tongue joining the mix as you admire his body, ensuring to greedily trace the skin where your mouth doesn’t explore. Satoru shifts under you, slowly growing more impatient as lick your way down the line that separates his abs.

You hold his stare, watching as his eyebrows knit together the closer you get to his cock.

Giving the male a knowing smile, you pull his shaft back, allowing yourself the space to flatten your tongue on his pelvis. You feel the light prickle of his growing pubic hair as you drag your muscle to his hip bone, tracing the outline of it with the tip, enjoying the way his body shivers under you.

Goosebumps pepper Satoru’s skin as his hands find your arms, rubbing them lightly. Smiling, you press your lips to the crease of his thigh, then lick the skin beneath. You feel Satoru’s thigh muscle tense and you chuckle, applying more pressure to the tip, earning yourself a low groan.

“So responsive~” you tease him with his own words, pressing your thumb to his tip, admiring the way his desire coats your skin.

Bringing your face close to his need, you breathe lightly onto his heated skin, knowing full well what the light sensation did to him. You watch as his eyes roll back slightly, his large hands now wrapping around your biceps as he shudders.

“Say,”

Pausing, you swirl your tongue around him once, then flick the head lightly. Satoru half moans, half chokes from the sudden sensation. But you pull back completely, returning to your taunting hand movement.

“Tell me what you want,” you whisper seductively, licking your way up from his base to the tip, this time allowing yourself to taste him. The salty yet sweet taste coats the very tip of your tongue, and you moan appreciatively.

Satoru tilts his head back and bites his lip. You feel his hands tremble, noticing his restraint.

“Your mouth. Now .”

You click your tongue.

“Here?”

Pressing a kiss to his thigh, you feel his cock jump in your hand. You knew you were playing a dangerous game, but you were also drunk off of the sheer power you held over this man. Who’s body is sculpted like that of a Greek god and holds the title of the strongest, yet yields to you.

“Y/n,” he warns, voice low and strained. His hands now move to your hair, tangling themselves in your strands, pulling lightly.

I like it when you say my name.

“Ah, you’re right. Here?”

Pushing his skin up so that his precum leaks out, you press a slow open-mouthed kiss to the tip, licking your way across the bulk of the head. You continue this exact motion, pumping him just as slowly as you were kissing him. Satoru watches you intently, hands shaking in your hair as you hold his gaze.

“More,” he urges desperately, bucking his hips up to go deeper into your mouth. You relent, but only for an inch.

Removing your hand entirely, you rub the sides of his thighs as you slowly suck that inch of his cock, swirling your tongue at the tip with every motion. You watch Satoru go mad, both hating and loving your tease. There was desperation in his eyes along with restraint, and you took advantage of that.

As soon as he knew exactly how well you could take it, well, the game would be over.

“As much of me as you can Y/n,” Satoru is breathing heavily, hands still in your hair but he doesn’t force himself in your mouth. Instead, he holds fast, letting you continue your slow torture.

You hum around him, allowing half of his cock into your mouth, the tip now reaching the back of your throat. His eyes roll back as you suck a little harder, but not any faster. You bring one hand to cup his balls, gently massaging them as you work his shaft. A soft moan leaves Satoru’s lips as it goes to your core, urging you to forget your game and give him your all. But he’s not near the point where you were when he finally gave in, and that alone makes you hold out.

Continuing to softly hum into him, you start to add slurping noises to your song. Satoru’s eyes roll shut and a small whimper leaves him.

“Can you take more of me, baby?” his fingers massage your scalp, feeling the slow bob of your head.

Oh, you think you're too big, do you?

With an inward smile, you let your thickened saliva dribble down to his base, then you quickly take all of him in. You hollow out your cheeks and relax your throat, letting his impressive length travel down your esophagus till your nose is touching his stomach.

“S-Shit–” Satoru curses, strong hands holding your head in place for a moment. Once he releases his grip, you return to your previous position on his shaft, sucking his member slowly.

His eyes shoot open, looking at you with both shock and confusion. You flutter your eyelashes sweetly as you continue your torturing pace. Satoru sucks in the air between his teeth, the realization of you not being as innocent as he may have thought settling over him.

“Please,” he breathes heavily, eyes transfixed on the base of his cock where your mouth was just moments before. You could hear the desperation in his voice, and it was delicious .

Taking him out of your mouth with a satisfying ‘ pop ’ , you stick out your tongue, slapping his cock against it. His eyes turn dark at the sight as his mouth falls slightly open, a satisfied smirk pulled on his wet lips.

“Please what, baby? What do you want? Don’t be shy.”

You trace the outline of his red tip with your lips, eyes never leaving his. His throat bobs as he considers his words, clearly, he still views you as fragile, and you have every intention of breaking that image.

“Please let me fuck that dirty little mouth of yours,”

You smirk, planting a kiss on his head, and then you hop off the bed, taking him with you. Satoru silently follows your lead, eyes raking your frame as yours watch the way his member stands proudly against his stomach. Angry red and glistening with your saliva.

Sending your confused lover a wink, you get back on the bed, laying on your back, hanging your head over the edge.

You now have a full good view of his perfect body. You hungrily look at his length, happy to find that it has a light curve. You clench your legs together at the thought of him in you, and Satoru smiles. He spreads your clenched legs while his other grabs his shaft, giving it a pump before he slaps it against your lips.

“Open up baby,”

At his command, you open your lips, making a show of stretching your neck and sticking out your tongue. Satoru leans forward, bracing himself with one hand as his other guides his cock into your mouth. He slowly pushes himself down your throat, giving you a moment to adjust to his thickness. At this angle, your throat is tighter and it's harder to breathe, but that’s what you wanted.

He begins moving his hips. His start is slow, allowing your saliva to coat him. You take the time to find the right position, hands going to cup his ass for the support you knew you were going to need. Then, just like you thought, Satoru moves. His hips snap forward with just enough force to push himself down your restricted throat, but not enough to crush your nose. You moan into his skin, happily hollowing out your cheeks, slurping and choking on him.

“God you’re so fucking perfect,” he moans while his free hand goes to massage your clit.

Rough fingers work your sensitive bundle of nerves, moving the soft skin with each thrust of his skillfully controlled hips. Your tongue moves with him, licking and wrapping around what it can. You begin to lose yourself in his soft moans, enjoying them as the air in your lungs becomes thinner and thinner.

It gets increasingly hard to breathe and you love it, sucking down what bit of air you can in between each of his thrusts. Your mouth pools with your thick saliva and it trails down your chin, spilling onto your neck, but you pay it no mind. You simply angle your head further, digging your fingers into his ass to give him better access to your abused throat.

His hand moves to your entrance, two fingers plunging into you, fucking you at his relentless pace. Satoru's palm rubs against your harden clit and tears prick your eyes. Strangled moans fight to come out of your throat between his movements as abrupt pleasure courses through you, motivating you to please him further.

Satoru’s thrusts become more erratic and you begin to feel the base of his cock twitch in your mouth, prompting you to moan around him. You send sweet vibrations down his cock, and he curses under his breath, fingers in your pussy delving deeper, brushing that spot, making your stomach tighten.

“Fuck,” groaning, Satoru thrusts himself deep into your throat, pausing entirely as thick ribbons of his seed shoot down your pipe. His fingers that pleased you move to your throat as he feels himself come in you. You hold still, licking him with your tongue until he readies himself to slowly pull out of your mouth.

Turning so your belly is flat against the mattress, you start to swallow his seed, ensuring your gulp is audible so he hears you. He watches you with a smile on his face, hand coming to cup your cheek, thumb sweeping over your near-bruised lips.

You take note of his cock, still very erect against his chiseled stomach.

“You’re full of surprises, Y/n.”

Your name left his lips in a breathless pant, and it was enough to make your walls clench.

Satoru smiles down at you, dropping to his knees so he can capture your lips. The kiss is tender and soft, and it sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“You hurtin’ at all?” he asks between each press of his lips. You smile into the kiss, playfully nibbling his lower lip.

“Not at all, I could do that again.”

He chuckles, shaking his head as his hands run down the length of your spine. The touch is light with no intention other than feeling your skin. Satoru pulls back from the kiss to press his soft lips to your forehead.

“We can stop here if you want.” his voice is full of practiced calm.

His hand runs down your hair, soothing your mind all while your body is still burning with desire.

It had been so long since you had shared a kiss, let alone your bed with someone. The touch of others felt so invasive until Satoru. You would be damned if you let him go now.

“Satoru, you’re not going to hurt me.”

Nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck, you sigh. You knew he had insecurities, and you know it’s only amplified by you being entirely, well, human. But you want to ease his worries, in every way you possibly could.

“You don’t know that, Y/n.”

Pulling back, you force him to hold your stare.

“Our time is short. I don’t want to live my life with regrets. I want you, Satoru, in all senses of the word.”

You lovingly hold his face, thumbs gently sweeping over your cheeks like he had done for you. The quiet tender gesture lingers between you as your breaths intertwine. You see him considering your words in those knowing blue eyes, ever-calculating and so full of thought.

“Promise me you’ll tell me if I hurt you.”

A laugh almost escaped your lips. The serious look on his face would make anyone stop cold, but it only made you smile.

“I promise. But you won’t hurt me, I trust you.”

At those words, Satoru captures your lips, tongue sweetly passing through your lips, immediately claiming yours for his own. Tentative hands explore your body, fingers lightly brushing over your sensitive skin, making you shiver. Moving to tangle your fingers in his hair, you run your teeth along the expanse of his tongue, smiling at the groan that leaves his lips.

Satoru’s hands guide your body up as he stands, his lips never leaving yours even as he presses your back to the mattress. Gentle hands spread your legs for him and you hiss. The feeling of cool air hits your wet need followed by the feeling of Satoru’s still slick member rubbing up against you. His warmth shocks you and he smiles at the gasp that escapes your lips. He pulls back from the kiss to meet your eyes.

Primal desire stares back at you.

You can’t help but let your eyes travel south, watching as he rubs himself against your slickness, hand on the base of his cock. His tip just barely brushes your clit and you moan, feeling your walls immediately clench at the swift pleasure.

“You want this dick, Y/n?” Satoru’s gravelly voice asks as he slaps his cock against your clit.

Dear lord help me.

“Y-Yes,” you half breathe, half moan out.

“Look at me,”

You do as commanded, tearing your eyes away from his impressive length to find his heated gaze.

“Use your words,”

He rewards you with another slap to your clit and you moan, the brief relief making your toes curl. Mindlessly, you run your hands down his arms, raking your nails down his triceps as you try to formulate words.

“Please fuck me,” you watch his face, eyes full of hope, but he only clicks his tongue and shakes his head, prodding your entrance. His taunt is maddening, and you try to shift your hips down, but a strong hand holds you in place.

“You can do better princess. Tell me exactly how you want me,” he smirks down at you, tip still just barely pushing at your entrance, all promise of everything you want.

Biting your lip, you swallow your pride.

“I want you to fuck me so hard that every time I sit down I can only think of you.”

A small breath leaves his lips and he smiles, shaking his head. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting that answer.

“So full of surprises,”

“Surprised are you–”

Before you could finish your sentence he pushes himself into you, stealing all the air from your lungs.

His thick length pushes past the first ring, and the feeling is so sickeningly sweet. Relief floods your veins as he fills you, your walls stretching to accommodate and hug his member, pulling him further into you.

“Holy shit,” you sigh, digging your nails into his arms as you spread your legs wider, giving him all of you.

“God, Y/n, you’re so fucking tight even after all that.” his voice is strained as he grabs your right thigh, fingers digging into the plush of your skin as he bottoms out in your pussy, holding completely still, allowing you to adjust.

You feel your walls clench and unclench happily, he stretches and fills you so well it is dizzying. You press kisses to his sculpted chest, a silent plea for him to move. He picks up on your hint well, slowly pulling his hips back to only push them back into you. Even a heartbeat of him not being in you made you feel so incomplete, the way his body fit with yours was almost too perfect.

“Fuck Satoru,” you moan closing your eyes, letting your head fall back, focusing solely on the blissful feeling of him.

His hips keep a steady slow pace, allowing your bodies the chance to adjust to one another. Satoru shifts your leg to prop it over his shoulder, making him go just a little bit deeper into you, pulling a throaty moan from you.

“Hold onto something baby,” he warns and you barely register his words, hands enclosing his wrists as he picks up his pace, pulling his cock out of you to the tip to snap it back into you.

“Oh my fucking God,” your eyes snap open as you watch Satoru rail your pussy. Your breasts bounce at his pace and you moan loudly, unable to hold back your noises.

“Your pussy feels so fucking good, Y/n.” he praises breathily and you moan, happy for the praise.

“Mmph– Fuck so do yo– ahh” your sentence is broken, unable to speak due to the dizzying speed of his powerful thrusts.

Each snap of his hips is expertly controlled. He angles himself up so he doesn’t hit your cervix as he ensures not to fully crush your body. One hand holds your thigh in a fixed position as his other holds your hip, moving your body with his seamlessly. Heavy breasts bounce against your chest as your body feels electric, alive, and taught; like you’re walking on a live wire. Pleasure kisses your nerves, promising new, but terrifying heights.

“Open your mouth,” Satoru’s strained voice commands, and your pussy pulses in response.

Swallowing thickly you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out for dramatic flare, trying desperately to keep your eyes open. Satoru smiles at the sight, leaning over you further, then spits in your mouth. Your mixed taste coats your tongue and you whimper as his thumb goes to circle your clit.

“Hold it in your mouth till I tell you to swallow princess. Can you do that for me?” your stomach tightens at the sensation of his thumb, but it’s almost faint due to the overwhelming pleasure his cock brings you.

Feeling entirely submissive and breedable you nod your head, your saliva already beginning to build in your mouth.

“Good girl. Now, on your knees.”

Satoru completely releases your body, allowing you to flip over and get on all fours. A whimper leaves your lips due to the loss of him, but you shake your ass for him. The action earns you a slap to your ass, his fingers dig into your plump skin as he shakes the flesh for himself, and you curse, feeling your desire drip down your inner thighs.

You feel his nimble finger trail your wet slit, and he whistles. Then, his mouth is on your ass, tongue circling your tight ring. Strong hands shake your ass as he continues to lick and probe your hole, making your legs shake. The feeling is entirely new, and it feels good. Not as good as when he eats your pussy, but it's enough to have your walls clenching and clit throbbing.

The spit in your mouth begins to push out of the corners of your lips as you try to hold your moans back. Your hands are fisted in the sheets as Satoru trails his way to your dripping entrance, tongue dragging down till his licking your sensitive clit. As if it wasn’t enough, his thumb pushes into your tight asshole, pumping the well-lubricated hole.

I am not going to survive this man.

“Swallow baby, let me hear you.”

You gratefully swallow your combined spit, moaning loudly as your first breath leaves your lips.

“Satoru fuck me please,” you plead, feeling so empty it’s maddening. Now that you’ve gotten a taste, you were certain your body wouldn’t grant you release unless he was in you.

You feel his head pull away from your pussy as his fingers enter you, just barely scratching your itch. It was laughable to compare the feeling of his fingers to his cock – it wasn’t nearly enough.

“Like this baby?” his thumb still plays with your asshole as he curls and pumps his fingers in you. Your thoughts are tangled, and words are hard to push out of your throat, getting caught in the thick layer of saliva coating your mouth.

“I want… Your cock. Please, please, please, I–” tears pricked your eyes, you were overstimulated.

Closing your eyes you took deep breaths, feeling as he pulled his fingers out of you to only wrap his hand around your hair, pulling your neck up. His tip pokes your throbbing entrance as his heavy breath kisses your ear.

“You want me, Y/n?” the heavy seductive words makes your spine tingle.

“I want all of you, Satoru.” though you tried to force your voice to sound normal, the words came out in a quiver.

“Good,”

Then he was in you, cock plunging deep within your velvet walls, stoking the burning fire in your stomach. You arch your back, mewling harshly at the abrupt feeling of him filling you.

“You feel so good, fuck.” Satoru kisses your shoulder, pulling his hips back to then fill you back up, thick member stretching you too fucking good.

With his hand still wrapped around your hair, he pushes your neck down so your face is pressed against the mattress. You open your eyes, face rubbing against the bed, and watch the man above you. His head is tilted back, bottom lip between his teeth as he works to make you both feel good – hips rolling into yours, enjoying the feeling of your walls sucking him back in.

“You’re so beautiful,” you moan softly, completely entranced.

Satoru smiles, eyes opening and he pushes strands of your hair away from your sticky forehead.

“All you baby girl,” he pushes himself further into you, angling himself up, completely hitting that spot.

“Oh fuck!” you curse, letting the brief pulse of intense pleasure run through you.

“You like that baby?” knowing full well what he’s doing, Satoru grabs your hips, hitting your spot again, making your muscles jerk.

“Ah– Yes!” words were lost to you as white-hot pleasurable fire ran through your veins, making your entire body shake.

“Who’s pussy is this?” Satoru grunts, thrusts becoming more erratic.

“I– Mmph, yours!” with eyes rolling to the back of your head, you focus on your core, feeling your high threaten to crash over you.

“That’s right, Y/n.” fingers dig into the flesh of your ass “You’re. Mine.” he declares between powerful thrusts, still ensuring to hit that spongey spot, making your vision blot with white.

“I– I am so fucking close, Satoru,” the words are a cry and you feel your whole body become taught, preparing itself for its inevitable crash to earth.

“Come on my cock baby. Let me make you feel good.”

And as if the word was law, your body did as he asked.

Your second orgasm ripped through you, pulling a scream from your throat. It’s dizzying, disorienting, and far too intense. Your body spasms uncontrollably as electrifying pleasure coursed through you, making your toes curl. You try to run away, but you are locked into place by Satoru's strong hands. With each pulse of your orgasm, your walls clench and grip Satrou’s cock, dragging him to earth with you. He ensures to thrust harmoniously to the rhythm of your pulses as thick ribbons of his cum mix with your own, filling up your belly.

With breath heavy and uneven, you both fall to your mattress. Sartoru's sweaty body presses against your back as he rubs your arms all while pressing kisses to your temple. Your body shook as you came down from your high, thighs jerking with each breath and light movement from the male still plunged within you.

“You feeling okay, beautiful?” his words are a soft whisper against your skin.

Eyes still close, you nod. The intense pleasure left you light-headed and unable to speak. So instead, you angle your head and capture your lover’s lips. Soft and sweet, and entirely loving. Satoru smiles against your lips, hands lightly rubbing your sides.

“Let's turn over so I can hold you, yeah?" his words tickle your lips, making you smile. You let him move your body with effortless ease.

The male holds you close to his chest as he wraps his arms around your small frame, enveloping you in his radiating warmth. His strong heartbeat sounds in his chest, and you listen to it in earnest, thankful for the fact that he is alive.

You stay like that for a moment, listening to the sound of him while he kisses your skin, both being silently thankful for the other.

“I love you, Y/n,” Satoru whispers into your hair, lips still pressed to your scalp.

With a child-like smile, you peer up at him. Brillant blue peers into your soul, calling to you, to your bond, and your heart sings in response.

“And I love you, Satoru. My heart is yours.” his eyes fold kindly, just like that first night in your kitchen.

“And mine is yours. You’ve healed me.”

—

You spent what little time you had left with Satoru, soaking up every minute, second, and hour. You both decided it was pointless to dwell on the unknown, so instead you enjoyed each moment that you were allotted. Sharing stories of your adventures, travels, and struggles. You healed each other, in ways that one would think impossible. You renewed each other's souls, in turn binding yourselves together.

“You know, that day we met, I think my heart knew before I did that I needed you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t even know you, but seeing you was enough to wash away every ounce of my pain. My body moved before I could think. So I dropped the lamest pick-up line ever known to mankind.”

“Haha, yeah. But it worked out didn’t it?”

“That it did. You are my greatest treasure, Y/n. I love you.”

“I love you too, please come back to me safely.”

Satoru smirked, all of his bravado pulled into every atom of his existence.

“Don’t worry, I am the strongest. I can’t leave my fiance all alone now can I?”

“No, you can’t.”

“See? So don’t worry about me, baby.”

With that, the lovely male plants a passionate kiss on your lips, and then walks away.

243 notes · View notes

plzfeedmebread · 1 year

Text

What Do I Tell My Friends Family? Pt. 7

word count: 4611

Pairing: Recom! Miles! Quaritch x Female! Sully! Na'vi! Reader Tags/Warnings: smut, light bondage, dirty talk, pregnancy sex, light degradation, p in v, family, fluff, feelings, crying, comfort, acceptance

Author's Note: Sorry this chapter took so long everyone! Hope you enjoy :)))

<previous chapter> | 7 |

The sound of rain pulls you from slumber. The air is thick and humid this morning. You breath deep, the salty air filling your lungs, wiping away the last dregs of sleep.

Your beloved is not beside you; ever the early morning riser that one. Neither are the twins nor Spider, you notice.

With a groan you slowly sit yourself up, having to exert more effort than usual. Once up, your hand moves to the swell of your belly. Shouldn’t be too long now before this one joins your ever-growing little family. You estimate you have about 2 months to go.

You open your home to allow the fresh air in. You reach out to gather some of the cool summer rainwater in your hands, splashing it on your face. You light a small fire in the pit, then set about preparing some meats to cook for breakfast. While those sizzle, you then prepare some fresh fruit that had been left outside your doorstep; the clan often leave you things as their way of helping, knowing you’re due almost any day now.

“Somethin’ smells good,” your ear perk up at the sound of Miles’ voice.

“Good morning, husband,” you greet but don’t turn around. You don’t have to, because before you finish speaking, his arms are already around you. His hot breath tickles the back of your neck as he leaves soft kisses there.

“How’re my best girls this morning?” his hands gently cup the swell of your belly, gently swaying the two of you to some unheard tune. He presses his chest to your bare back, the cool wet skin of his sends a delicious shiver down your spine.

“Oh? And how do you know we are not blessed with more sons?” You smile at him over your shoulder.

“Father’s intuition sweetheart,” He leans to the side presses a quick kiss to your lips. He pulls back, pressing the side of his face to yours as he peers over your shoulder as you continue preparing fruit.

You hum thoughtfully at his words. You wouldn’t mind having a daughter. Or two. Eywa have mercy if you have another set of twins. Speaking of your children…

“Where are the boys?”

“Spider took them swimming, they’re at the heated pools in the jungle.” You make a noncommittal noise in acknowledgement.

“You know…with the kids busy, we have a little time to ourselves right now…” his hands travel from your belly, slowly tracing the length of your arms, before his hands rest in the crook of your neck. He starts massaging the base of your head with his thumbs. Your eyes close at the pleasurable sensation, moaning unexpectedly.

“You’re insatiable, you know that?” You tease him with a side eyed look. He grins down at you, eyes glazed over with desire. His gaze alone sends a pleasurable throb straight down to your core.

“Can’t help it darlin’. Seeing you like this, all big, belly swollen, and knowin’ it’s cuz of me? It does somethin’ to a man,” he bites the tip of your ear, and you let out an involuntary whimper; he knows all of your erogenous zones, and they become far more sensitive during pregnancy.

“Show me then my love, show me what I do to you.”

---

He has you trapped between his legs. Your back pressed to his chest as you lean back, head resting on his shoulder as you gasp between moans.

Your legs are draped over his thighs, keeping you spread. One hand gently massages the flesh of your breast, fingers occasionally pinching your pert nipple.

His other hand is busy at your core, 3 fingers deftly working their way in an out of your warm centre, making filthy squelches with each thrust. Your arousal coats his fingers and your thighs in inviting wetness. You are more than ready for him. But he loves playing with you, especially when you are at his mercy.

He removes his middle finger, bringing it to your clit, rubbing the sensitive bud in your slick. His finger glides over with ease thanks to your gushing nectar.

“Oh fuck…Miles right there—YES!” Your voice is breathless as you beg him for release; the pleasure coursing through you burning hotter as you approach the precipice of desire.

He returns his fingers to your inviting warmth, your walls sucking him in greedily. His fingers meet no resistance with how wet you are. He fucks his fingers into you faster this time, the palm of hand slapping against your clit, sending you further into the throws of passion. The symphony of your pleasure comes crashing down on you; the orgasm hitting you with a resounding crescendo. A rough press to your clit has you squirting much to yours and his delight.

“That’s it baby, you always perform so well for me.” Miles whispers into your ear, nipping at the nape of your neck. The feeling of your inviting walls clenching around his fingers sends blood straight to his hardened aching cock.

This was always the ritual. Always would he bring you to glorious orgasm, before chasing his own pleasure. Even if the two of you had an argument, falling into something in line with hate sex, he made sure to prepare you well. No matter what, you were always at the forefront of his mind.

You rest your entire weight against him, chest heaving with each laboured breath. Your skin is sticky with sweat, pussy throbbing, your release leaking all over the floor. You feel Miles’ hardness press into your lower back. He presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“Do you need a minute?” He asks ever to tenderly.

“For you my love? Never.” You turn yourself as much as you can, arms reaching for him. He understands what you want, immediately turning you to him. He pulls your arms around his neck, securing his behind your back, then crashing his lips to yours.

The kiss is bruising. He sucks on your lips, pressing his tongue to yours, drinking you in greedily as though you were destined to fade. He swallows the moan you release into his mouth. His hand moves to the base of your queue and he pulls you back.

Your eyes are mystified, glazed over from residual pleasure, but alight once more at the promise you see in his own eyes. They are dark with want, pupils dilated with heady need. He licks his teeth as he studies your face, a smirk forming on his lips.

He stands up, pulling you with him. You watch him curiously as he moves elsewhere, searching; there is an amusing flick of the tail when he finds it. He holds the item triumphantly in the air before coming back to you.

Ah. Rope.

He always did love restraints.

“You trust me, sweetheart?” You scoff, almost offended he needs to ask you for umpteenth time.

“Since our first night in the Dream my love. Always and forever.” Your smile is matched by his own.

“Hold your hands up, behind your head.” You do as instructed. The rope this not too thick, black and woven with expertise only a machine could craft. It was something you brought with you all those years ago. You figured it would be most useful; nothing hand crafted had yet matched it in quality. What you hadn’t expected was for your mate to use it in such, creative ways. Not that you complain; you were of course more than delighted to engage in his fantasies.

He fastens your wrists together tightly. The length is then wound around your neck, dropping between your breasts before he loops it around your mounds. It lowers through your cleavage and around the back; always he keeps it away from your belly. He nudges your legs apart. The rope is then wrapped around each hip and thigh.

He moves behind you then, pulling your fastened hands behind his head. His hands roam over you in reverence, from the swell of your breasts, to the expanse of your thighs, not a single inch of skin is left unworshipped. He gives the rope a final tug to make sure all is secure.

He kisses the side of your temple, and you feel him take a hold of your queue, joining it with his own. The low guttural moan he makes sends a spark of pleasure down your spine, straight to your cunt. You feel yourself becoming slick once more, not that you need even more prepping in the first place.

He grabs the rest of the rope in his right hand, before wrapping it around your front, nestling his arm between your breasts. He lowers his left hand until it reaches the back of your knee. You know without having to be told, and lift your leg. He holds your leg up as far as you can stretch; you are thankful to be so pliable after all these years. The position has your now aching core wide open, glistening in the fire light as you leak down your own leg.

You let out a soft moan as you feel the hardness of his naked cock rub against your slit, coating himself in your prior release. He lines himself up with your entrance, his head just breaching the opening.

“I love you, [Y/N],” he whispers into your ear before he buries himself in you to the hilt with one hard thrust. The sudden stretch burns in a delightful way, you hope you never get used to his size. You can’t help the sudden yelp of moan.

“Fucking hell baby, you’re so wet. And it’s all for me. My perfect little mate, with her perfect little cunt.”

The filth of his words causes a whimper to fall from your lips, but your walls clentch the scorching member inside you. Miles lets out a shaking laugh laced with pleasure.

“Pretty little thing you are. Always. So. Fucking. Perfect!” Each word is punctured with a hard thrust in and out of you. His long cock caressing the soft spongy flesh of your walls, finding that special spot that drives you wild and beyond reason. Greedily your walls clamp around him, begging his release and your own.

“You like that, darling? You’re always such a needy bitch in heat. Like it when your mate talks to you like that, huh?” He pulls on the rope, tightening the restraints all around you. The skin under the rope becoming warmer and reddening. You let out a straggled cry, mouth agape, you let your head fall back onto his shoulder.

The pleasure mounting in you growing with every passing moment. Your hands find purchase on his braid, holding on tight. He groans into your ear, the sound somewhere between a moan and a growl. It reverberates through your bones, to know your mate is so in the throes of pleasure, stokes fire in your own belly; your arousal covering his own.

He grabs your other leg, and suddenly you are hoisted into the air. You yelp with surprise, but he holds you firm. His pace is relentless, still thrusting up into your welcoming heat. Such display of strength only spurs you on further. There comes a dull ache in your legs from the strain of being held up, but also the tightness of the rope cutting into your joints.

The pain and pleasure mix wonderfully, pulling you over the edge and into your waiting orgasm. You moan loudly, almost a scream, Miles’ name spills from your lips in high pitch mewls. He doesn’t stop, fucking you through your orgasm to another, causing your to squirt all over his cock.

Tears flow freely from your eyes at the overstimulation, but by the Great Mother does it feel heavenly. Your ecstasy assaults him through the bond, finally sending him over the edge. His mouth bites down hard into your shoulder as he cums, shooting his seed up into your inviting warmth. Your walls clench him greedily, milking him till he is spent. There is a falter in his legs, you can almost feel the strain in his arms as he tries to keep you up as his pleasure wracks him to the core.

Finally though, he gently lowers you to the ground, falling onto his knees once your feet are firmly planted. You use him as leverage, lowering yourself before him. He rests his head to your shoulder, hands immediately finding your belly, resting them there.

Time passes slowly, filled with the smell of your sex and the sound of your joint laboured breaths. Slowly, Miles starts removing the rope from your person, throwing it somewhere out of sight once done. You collapse into his embrace once more, turning to your side as you lean against him. He cradles you in his arms, pressing delicate kisses to your hair.

You feel hot and sticky, but thoroughly fucked. You couldn’t be happier, tail wrapping around you both.

“You okay?” He asks, always, after any session in which he ties you up. His hands find your wrists, gently massaging the bruised skin.

“Always my love. Just a little worn out.” You close your eyes and lean into him more, never wanting this feeling to end. This peace and tranquillity.

---

Your mind drifts to the day, nearly 5 years ago, when you first landed on the island.

The Olo'eyktan and Tsahik came to greet you, as well as many members of the clan. They were surprised to see forest people; some never having seen any before. They gawked and stared unashamedly. They were more surprised though, by Spider’s presence. A Sky People child, painted with stripes, dressed in forest garb? What a spectacle!

The Tsahik had hissed when she caught sight of him, demanding that you take the Demon Child back from where you found it.

With great restraint you held your tongue, explaining instead that you cannot and would not go back. You wanted no part in the war with the Sky People, and neither did your mate. All you wanted was uturu. Some place far away from conflict. You explained that the Human boy, was in fact your mate's son, just without an Avatar body.

She was taken aback then, but grabbed your hand, noting the four fingers. She declared you too were of Demon blood, not true Na’vi. None of you were. Why should they let you stay? You looked to the Olo'eyktan then, pleading with your eyes. You gestured to Spider, saying that if he could adapt to live amongst Forest Na’vi, then you could all adapt, that you will adapt.

The Tsahik scoffed, walked around you three to inspect your tails. She stopped abruptly behind your mate, staring at his back. Her hand came to rest on the space between his shoulders. You saw the tenseness in his shoulders, wrapping his tail around his leg, hands clenched. He sends you a worried look, but you shrug, unsure of what she was doing.

You see her brows furrow. She removes her hand then, like she has been burnt, before returning to her mate’s side. She speaks low to him.

“That one, has been touched by Eywa.” The Olo'eyktan’s head shoots up as he stares at Miles, then looks back down to his mate for clarity.

“Touched?” He asks in shocked whisper. She clicks her tongue, annoyed at the events unfolding before her.

“Yes. Touched. Whether literal or spiritual, I cannot say for sure. But it is there. I feel it.” She squints at Miles, wholly distrusting of his person.

‘By the stars themselves, what could the Great Mother possibly have seen in this one?’ she thinks to herself.

“What of the boy? How will he live amongst us, if he cannot breathe our air?” The Tsahik gestures to Spider, who has been standing beside you awkwardly. You put a comforting hand around his shoulder, pressing him closer into your side.

“You need not worry. This Sky People-made mask will keep him safe.” You tap the mask gently. You’re not sure how much these people know of Human technology, but you don’t explain further. You send a silent thank you to Norm, Max and all the other scientists back home.

Just before your departure, you had decided Spider could not come with, intent to leave him behind, no matter how much it broke your heart. There would be no feasible way to replenish his oxygen packs supply. But Eywa smiled upon you. The humans, the engineers they were called, came forth with a new designed mask. It did not need oxygen packs like the old ones, instead filtered the air itself for safe breathing. It worked underwater too. It was sturdier too, strong as Na’vi bones they boasted.

Her eyes roam over you, then Spider, than up to your mate. She questions then, what skills you Forest folk could possibly bring to their shores. Your mate steps forward then, proudly stating he is a warrior, willing to fight anyone to prove his worth. The Olo'eyktan holds up his hand, stating that it wasn’t necessary, at least not yet.

The Tsahik’s eyes rake over you again, making you feel self-conscious. You see her gaze linger on your chest and your hips.

“You…Your patterns are of Forest folk, but your body is not.” It is more so a statement than a question, but demands an answer all the same.

“You are correct, Tsahik. My mother was true born Na’vi, of the Omatikaya clan. My father is…like my mate. Born of the Sky People.” She makes a disgruntled noise, but says nothing else.

After a moment of silence, she looks back up at her mate, and gives him the faintest of nods.

The Olo'eyktan announces then, that you three are welcome and are to be treated like their brothers and sisters. He warns them to be gentle with the Human, try not to gawk at him too much as there was still a village to look after. You thank him profusely, tears threating to fall at corner of your eyes. His smile is warm and welcoming, and the relief you feel is near palpable.

---

You and Miles decide to pack the food into a basket and bring it to the children. As the two of you are making your way along the beach to the path that would lead into the jungle, you are greeted by the sight of your two young sons running at you, Spider taking up the rear in a slow jog.

“Mama! Papa!” They yell in unison, arms outstretched as they crash into your legs.

“Good morning my little starlights! And to you too Spider, thank you so much for taking such good care of them,” You pick up Rawm as Miles does Taxun. Spider smiles up at the both of you, out of breath from the run.

“It’s no trouble [Y/N]. I already know what it’s like to have younger brothers.” He takes note of the basket Miles is holding, helping himself to the fruit inside. Your smile becomes a little sad at the memory of your family. You don’t have time to dwell on it though, as the kids notice Spider eating and immediately demand to be fed.

And so the 5 of you sit on the nearby rocks in the shade, enjoying the meats and fruits. It doesn’t last long, as the twins eat far too fast for your liking, before they start pulling Spider toward the ocean, wanting to swim in the cool water now that the sun was out. He of course obliges without fuss, and you giggle as you watch them splash about in the water.

The sun hangs high in the sky now, midday you presume. You enjoy the cool breeze kissing your skin, and the soft caress of your husband as he traces the glowing freckles on your back.

You are quiet, but there is gentleness in your eyes, a soft smile on your lips.

“Whatcha lookin’ at sweetheart?” Miles asks you, and you keep your eyes forward, smile widening.

“Our future.” Your voice is soft as the sand between your toes.

He hums in agreement, and kisses your check.

“Yeah…me too.”

---

You’re not sure how much time passes, perhaps not even an hour, when you here your name being called. You look to see the Olo'eyktan’s daughter coming to you hastily.

Your heart skips a beat at her urgency.

“[Y/N]! You must come quick! Follow me!”

“What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

“Did you not hear the horns?!” She asks as she speeds off, expecting you to follow. You look to your mate, both of you have a confused expression. Neither of you heard it, too engrossed in watching your family. The kids probably didn’t hear anything amongst their own yelling and playing.

Quaritch whistles to the kids, who all immediately cease their frivolity, and run back to you two. Miles wordlessly grabs both twins in his strong arms, and you hand Spider the now empty basket. You make your way back as fast as you can waddle, explaining to the kids along the way.

---

You see an unexpected amount of people gathered at the front beach, though you can’t quite make out what’s going on.

You hear the whispers and murmurs of the clan, strangers they say; visitors.

You and Miles share a concerned look as you make your way forward. A sound carries on the wind, a bellow of a creature; and you know that sound anywhere.

Ikran.

Your heart starts pounding in your chest, your mind running a mile a minute. You don’t even think as you start forcefully pushing your way through the crowed, flanked by Miles still holding the twins and Spider.

“What’s going on Papa?” Rawm asks, clutching onto his father tightly.

You don’t hear his response as you finally make your way out front, seeing the backs of your Olo'eyktan and Tsahik.

You vaguely note the 5 ikran poised on the sand, looking none too pleased.

And when you see the Na’vi visitors talking to your Olo'eyktan, tears well in your eyes, and you let out a straggled cry.

“Sanctuary for my—” The visiting man's voice cuts short when he hears your cry, immediately finding your gaze. His eyes widen at the sight of you, flicking to your swollen belly for a split second, before coming back to your face. He lets out a shaky laugh, a grin splitting his face.

The woman at his side looks at him confused, before following his line of sight. Your eyes meet, and she falls to her knees, covering her mouth as she cries, tears streaming down her face.

You approach them slowly, not caring for the stares of the clan, nor the poignant look Tsahik Ronal is sending you.

You stand before your parents.

“Hello mother. Hello father. Oel ngati kameie.”

Neytiri jumps to her feet, wrapping in her arms tightly. Her cries burn your ears but you don’t care. They are matched only by your own. You feel your fathers arms wrap around you two, and you swear by the Great Mother, that this was perhaps the first time you’ve ever heard him cry. Your four siblings rush at you too, scrambling to get you into an embrace of their own.

You hear the tell-tale sigh of your Tsahik, and the low chuckle of Olo'eyktan Tonowari.

“I guess you have a lot of catching up to do, no?” He turns to the clan and addresses them. “Treat Jake Sully and his family as our brothers and sisters, just as you did with those who came before.” He calls for his eldest son and daughter, instructing them to teach Jake and his family just as they had taught you.

Your family untangles from one another, though your parents still have their hands on your shoulders. You take each of their hands in your own.

“[Y/N], I—”

“Hush, mother. Before you say anything, you too father, there is someone, two actually, you should meet first…” You pull them towards Miles. You turn your head to your siblings, gesturing with your head for them to follow too. You feel them tense, and a falter in their step. You gently squeeze their hands, releasing a shaking breath when you feel them squeeze back.

“Oel ngati kameie, Jake and Neytiri.” Miles says with perfect annunciation. They don’t say anything, but gesture to him with their hands. They are far too in shock, eyes instead focused on the two boys in his arms.

“Mom, dad, siblings…I’d like you to meet my sons, Rawm and Taxun,” you gesture to your boys accordingly, letting go of your parents hands, nervously threading your own fingers together in front of you.

You hear your siblings greet them with little waves, introducing themselves as their aunts and uncles. The boys are shy, and barely greet them back with tiny voices. Kiri runs to Spider, pulling him into a wordless hug as she cries into his shoulder.

“Hey kiddos, it’s nice to meet you. I’m your grandpa, Jake,” You father smiles at them big and goofy, tail swaying with joy.

“Pa Jake?” Rawm asks, bringing tears to the edge of your fathers eyes. He lets out a shaky laugh and nods.

“Yeah, that’s right. I’m your mama’s papa. Just like this man, is your papa.” He pats Miles on the shoulder, and the two share a look. You can see so much unspoken words exchange between them, Miles lowering his ears submissively. But your father gives him a kind smile. You can see in your mates eyes, even as he returns the smile, there is a hint of guilt there.

Your son surprises you then, reaching for your father, who happily takes him into his arms, smile widening.

You look to your mother then; filled with trepidation at her reaction. All of your anxiety shatters when you see her smile your boys.

“Hello little ones. I am your grandmother Neytiri. Your mama’s mama…” She wipes away a stray tear, and happily takes Taxun when he reaches for her.

She gently rocks him, patting his back with practiced ease. Your heart swells at the sight of your parents holding their grandchildren.

Neytiri’s eyes lift from your son then, to meet your mate’s gaze head on. She stares at him, studying him, but he doesn’t break the eye contact. She closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath, exhaling through her mouth. She opens her eyes and fixes him with a determined look.

“Oel ngati kameie, Miles Quaritch.” She nods to him, hand gesturing towards him in the proper greeting. “Thank you…for taking care of my daughter.”

His eyes widen at her words, and she smiles up at him, though it is small, as she hugs your son to her a little more tightly.

“Oel ngati kameie, [Y/N], my daughter…I am so happy, to see you, alive and well.” She touches a hand to your belly briefly, before returning to pat your sons back. “You too Spider…I am, pleased, to see you are doing well.”

Spider gives her a shy smile and a nod. Your brothers flank him, poking his sides and remarking on his larger frame, toned by years of swimming.

“Oel ngati kameie, mother, father, siblings. Welcome to our family.”

Everyone comes together, embracing in one giant hug, with you and Miles at the centre.

“Wherever we go, our family is our Fortress.” You father says.

“Sullys stick together,” Neteyam adds.

“And now, Quaritches too.” Your mother says, and with that, the dam breaks.

You cry tears of joy, safely nestled in the embrace of your family.

You couldn’t be happier.

End

---

<previous chapter> | 7 |

Author's Note: And that's a wrap people! Originally this was gonna end with Quaritch's "yeah me too" on the beach. But then it occurred to me, people would probably want a reunion with the family, so here we are!

Thank you so much to everyone who's followed along with what was supposed to be a horny one-shot that then turned into a mini series XD I look forward to seeing ya'll in my future works, so stay tuned!

---

Tag List: @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @lvangel98, @rsclopez, @onlyreadz @manymaria111, @kristeen31xxx @mechformers @olivia-the-weirdo @essenceinpink @villirios @rededfoxy @brutecuteness @perseny @fandom-garbage @ttreader @hihhasotherfixations @angel-of-silver369 @royallaufeyson @saltedcoffeescotch @the-hufflebird-girl @ding-dong-big-schlong @netherklutz @moneyoverl0v3 @@episodic8peace @touchedflowers @sarcasticrandy @lov3rluna @totesnothere04 @ab-haya @me-on-pluto @ducks118 @grimistangel @lovekeeho @itsyoboysparkel

613 notes · View notes