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#are you tired of it yet I’m sorry there is nothing else on my mind aaa
tsuyonpuu · 1 year
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Now and for always 🍃
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rainbowhao · 22 days
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fratboy taehyun
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fratboy taehyun who acts like your boyfriend but isn’t actually your boyfriend—just your high school friend who’s too dense to realize his feelings
fratboy taehyun who is never really surprised to find you walking around campus in his clothes
“oh. so it was you.” he gestures to the sweatshirt you wear
you laugh nervously. “how’d that get there? must of grabbed it by mistake.”
he just pulls the hood over your head before tugging you to your next class. “all the clothes you have and you still insist on wearing mine.” 
fratboy taehyun who is an all-rounder and insists on joining every extra curricular he can yet somehow always finds time for you
fratboy taehyun who acts all serious and tough but would do anything you ask him
“please never contact me again,” he says after showing up to your apartment just to catch the cockroach in your kitchen
fratboy taehyun who is a natural flirt but doesn’t realize the impact he has on you
fratboy taehyun who grabs your wrist when a car’s coming and lifts his shirt post-practice to wipe at the sweat on his forehead—who’s not shy even when he knows you’re in the stands watching
fratboy taehyun who avoids bringing you around his place whenever possible because of his nosy roommates
“i’m helping rearrange around some furniture,” he tells soobin one morning. 
this catches his friend’s attention. “you’re what now?” 
he calmly repeats what he said while slipping on his shoes.
hyuka watches the interaction, grinning manically. “you like them. soobin, he likes them.”
“yes. moving a desk translates to unrequited love.” taehyun rolls his eyes.
soobin hums. “unrequited, huh?”
fratboy taehyun who leaves you breathless even in jeans and a jersey—who meets you in a cropped shirt and backwards hat one warm afternoon and has everyone staring
fratboy taehyun who orders dessert to cool off and doesn’t think twice before wiping off the leftover ice cream by the corner of your lips
“you wonder why everyone thinks we’re dating.” you try to laugh off the situation 
fratboy taehyun whose eyes widen at your joke—who can’t help but think about what you said for the rest of the day and even turns to his upperclassman yeonjun for an outside option
fratboy taehyun who winds up outside your door after a long conversation, quietly knocking in case you’re already asleep (and secretly hoping you just won’t hear)
fratboy taehyun who forgets every word in the dictionary when he sees you’re wearing nothing but his t-shirt, features visibly tired beneath the street light
fratboy taehyun who can only think about how pretty you look—were you always this pretty—and can’t stop himself from commenting on your choice in sleepwear
“you look really cute in my clothes.”
fratboy taehyun who is secretly satisfied when you get all flustered
fratboy taehyun who stays over at your place—something he hasn’t done since high school—and somehow winds up next to you in your tiny bed
fratboy taehyun who doesn’t seem to mind when you creep closer to him in your sleep, eventually entangling your limbs with his
fratboy taehyun who takes off his shirt when it gets too hot
fratboy taehyun who forgets said action and wakes up startled to find his torso bare and your arm across his stomach 
“sorry…” he doesn’t know what else to say.
you’re frozen against his side. you can feel his muscles contract beneath your forearm. “it’s fine.” you gulp, gaze hesitantly trailing upward to meet his piercing eyes
“why are you looking at me like that?” taehyun mumbles.
you can’t look away. “like what?” 
fratboy taehyun who starts feeling things one shouldn't feel about their friend
fratboy taehyun whose breath hitches when he realizes how close you are—how easy it’d be to dip his head down and kiss you just like that
fratboy taehyun who’s convinced his dumb friends put these thoughts in his mind and would rather die than entertain the idea that they were right all along
fratboy taehyun who becomes even more protective over you 
fratboy taehyun who is bold enough to put his hand on your waist when you go to parties and doesn’t let you out of his sight when you wander off with an overly-friendly beomgyu
“you haven’t looked away from them once,” soobin comments smugly while sipping beer.
“really? didn’t notice,” he says absently.
his roommate chuckles. “you’re looking at gyu like you want to murder him.”
“sounds like a normal night to me.”
fratboy taehyun who’s forced into the closet with you after a stupid game of truth or dare
fratboy taehyun who keeps mumbling apologies everytime he touches you—who is starting to feel a little claustrophobic in this tiny dark space
“seems like they really want us to get together.” you break the silence.
“dumb, right?” taehyun chuckles.
“cause it’s me?” you sink back against the wall. “dating me is dumb?”
“that’s not what i meant.” the words are flying out of his mouth. 
fratboy taehyun who says fuck it—friends kiss, right?
“if it’ll get them off our backs.” he tries to play it off cooly.
fratboy taehyun who looses all control when he gets a taste of you, pulling you further against him until there’s no space between your bodies—who’s addicted to the feeling of your lips on his and quickly forgets about the game 
fratboy taehyun who never realized how needy he was for your touch until your hands are in his hair, on his sides, cupping his face—who never wants to let you go now that he has you like this
“think they’ve kissed yet?” beomgyu sighs, legs crossed and leaning against the couch
soobin smirks. “twenty bucks says they're having sex by the time we pull them out."
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mrspasser · 2 months
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I'll lay my head down here
Sterek fanfiction Stiles needs a place to sleep. He chooses Derek.
Also available on A03.
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“I’m not sleeping on the floor again, you assholes!” Stiles throws a balled up burger wrapper at the infuriating werewolves who took over his intended sleeping space. 
Isaac bats the greasy paper ball away with a quick flick of his hand, hardly having to look at it. “You snooze, you lose, Stilinski,” he says meanly, as he snuggles deeper inside the couch pillows to drive his point home. “Besides, I gave up my bed, I shouldn’t be the one to sleep on the floor.”
Stiles perks up when an idea crosses his mind. Upstairs, in Isaac’s room, are Lydia and Cora. Maybe he could -
“Don’t even think about it, Stilinski!” Jackson cuts his unspoken thought off with one sharp remark. He glares at him from his spot on the couch he’s sharing with Isaac: one asshole werewolf on each side. The guy is extra touchy because Lydia picked Cora as a sleeping partner over him - which is more than fair, if you ask Stiles, both Lydia picking Cora over Jackson and Jackson being sour over getting the cold shoulder from his girlfriend.
“I’m sorry, Stiles, I don’t think you’ll fit,” Allison offers apologetically from his right. She’s squeezed in the large armchair with Scott, who’s already fast asleep and snoring softly. 
He waves her offer away. If he’d try to squish himself in the chair with them, neither one of them would sleep a wink all night. Same goes for the couple in the other available chair, although Stiles is more sure to survive the night with Scott and Allison than with Boyd and Erica. That only leaves - 
“You could try Derek?” Allison blinks innocently at him. 
Stiles huffs a laugh, letting the sarcasm bleed through in generous helpings. “Yeah, right.” He leaves it at that, too tired to hope to put up the proper facade of pretending to dislike the Alpha werewolf. Hey, we all deal with our crushes in our own way! Stiles has to do what he can when literally living with a pack of wolves, who can smell pheromones and who knows what else.
Eventually, he settles for stretching out on the rug that Lydia made Derek buy a while back. It’s not overly cushiony, but it’ll do the job. It’ll have to. Besides, he hasn’t had a proper night of sleep in four or maybe even five days, staying up researching and worrying most of the night. The Big Bad is dead, the worrying is over and his research paid off: he should be able to sleep now, right?!
At first, Stiles uses his hoodie for a pillow, yet after about twenty minutes he gives up and pulls it back on because he won’t be able to sleep if he’s cold. Derek patched up most of the holes in his loft and it’s actually resembling a nice apartment these days, but it’s still the middle of the night in February and Stiles is lying on the floor without a blanket or a pillow. He misses his own bed. His comforter. His pillow. His other pillow, the one that’s older than him and oddly lumpy, but it was the one that was in his mother’s bed until the day she died. It hasn’t smelled like her in a long, long time. Stiles has also washed it a couple of times during the years, he’s not that much of a pig, despite popular opinion. But it’s familiar and comforting and he still takes it with him for sleepovers with Scott. 
He considers whether or not he would’ve brought his pillow if this impromptu sleepover had been planned in any way. He’s known Scott since kindergarten, he’s his best friend. He wouldn’t say or even think anything bad about Stiles still needing a special pillow to sleep even when he’s almost twenty one years old. And while he knows most of the people in this room for five years or even longer and trusts them with his life, that doesn’t mean that they’re not a bunch of dickheads who will tease him every chance they get.
It’s a pointless thought exercise, because nothing about this sleepover was planned. They were supposed to kill that wyvern during the day, when it slept in his creepy little cave. That's what all Stiles’ research was for! He even found a way to kill the beast without having to hack it to pieces, which was nice because in the end he was against animal cruelty, you know? But then there were witches, two of them. They weren’t planned, neither was the ensuing fight in the woods. The unexpectedness of it all had left everybody antsy, especially the werewolves. And even though they recouped with a movie night and a nice pack pile, nobody wanted to be very far away from the others. Hence the impromptu sleepover that had Stiles sleeping on a rug, between the coffee table and the couch. Which wasn’t fair, because he totally knocked a witch out with his bat! He did his fair share and pulled his weight and what not. The least he deserves is a nice night of sleep.
Another hour later, Stiles is sore all over and chilled to the bone. There’s no way he can sleep like this. “Desperate times call for desperate measures,” he whispers to the leg of the coffee table that he knows has Isaac’s claw marks on it. 
As quietly as he can he makes his way upstairs on the rounding stairs. On the landing there’s three doors to choose from: the one on his left leads to Isaac’s bedroom, where Lydia and Cora are sleeping. The one in the middle is the bathroom - with a bath, for heaven’s sake, Derek has a tub! - and that leaves the master bedroom on his right. The Alpha’s den. Stiles has never been inside it. He even doubts if Isaac has set foot in the room very often, besides for cleaning purposes.
Stiles never really intended to go into Derek’s room, because despite what the others seem to think, he actually values his life. And his dignity. He thought it better to take a chance with the girls, take on the risk of Jackson wanting to kill him the next morning when he discovered Stiles had slept in the same bed as his girlfriend.
But…
The door to Derek’s bedroom is cracked.
Stiles can see inside. 
He can’t see that much, with it being the middle of the night and the only light coming from a gap between the curtains in front of Derek’s window. But the moonlight is just right, illuminating the sleeping form of the Alpha in the bed. A bed that is more than large enough for two people and Derek is neatly sleeping on one side of the bed. If Stiles is quiet enough he might even be able to slip into the bed without waking Derek. The werewolf got hurt pretty badly today and healing always takes a lot out of him. There’s a pretty good chance the guy is sleeping like a log.
Stiles takes a deep breath. He’s gonna risk it.
***
He didn’t think he’d actually do it, but after a few minutes of indecisiveness on the landing, Stiles quietly tiptoes into Derek’s bedroom. He rounds the bed to the unoccupied side of the mattress and gingerly lifts the tip of the blanket.
“You’re not getting in with your jeans on,” Derek says, without opening his eyes.
Stiles yelps and he’s already stammering halfway through an apology when he suddenly shuts his mouth. His back teeth actually click together. There’s a few seconds of silence and then: “You’d let me into your bed?”
“Not with your jeans on,” Derek repeats. Usually he wouldn’t do this, but he’s been listening to Stiles toss and turn downstairs for a while now and with all of his pack members sleeping peacefully, he’d like the last one to get some rest too. Besides, Stiles would continue to keep him up with his restless behaviour otherwise; Derek just can’t seem to tune him out. It’s been that way for years already, maybe even from the beginning.
“O-kay.” He can feel Stiles staring at him in the dark and he patiently waits for the decision he knows the boy is gonna make. No, not a boy. Stiles will be 21 this Spring. Derek has seen him grow up, literally and figuratively, along with the rest of his ragtag pack of teenagers. Stiles still wears jeans and plaid most of the time, but the garments don’t hang as loose on him as they did when he was 16. He’s grown into a handsome young man, with a good head on his broad shoulders. Derek counts himself lucky to have Stiles as part of his pack, to have him close. Not as close as he sometimes might wish, yet Derek is always conscious of not playing favourites. So he usually keeps Stiles at an arm length and takes care to treat him just like everyone else. It helps that the two of them elevated snark and banter to an effective communication style. Despite all the sarcasm and barbs, Derek is pretty sure there is no-one in his pack who sees through him like Stiles does. It was scary at first and it made him lash out, but Stiles stood firm. Derek is immensely grateful that he did.
There’s the rustling of clothing hitting the floor, jeans and a shirt, then the blanket lifts and Stiles scoots underneath. Derek feels him settle in behind his back, a foot or so away. “Thanks,” Stiles whispers in the dark.
“Go to sleep,” Derek grunts, eager to go to sleep and not think about the young man who is sharing his bed.
***
Derek’s bed is pretty comfortable, Stiles thinks to himself as he digs himself in. Oh, who is he kidding?! Derek’s bed is amazing. The mattress is just the right combination of firm and soft, the pillow hugs his head and shoulders just right and the comforter is warm but still light to the touch. It’s a million times better than his bed at home, even when he’s not counting the fact that he’s sharing the bed with a hot werewolf.
Yet Stiles can’t sleep. 
Yes, the pillow is heavenly. Yes, the mattress allows his tired body to finally relax. Yes, the comforter hugs him nicely. But there’s something missing and Stiles knows exactly what it is. His pillow.
He needs to hold something. He needs to be able to curl around something. Or someone, his traitorous brain suggests as he feels Derek move across from him.
“Why aren’t you asleep, Stiles?” Derek asks in that long-suffering tone he uses when Stiles is doing something to annoy him. Which is pretty often, although Stiles knows the annoyance is mostly for show these days. He has turned onto his back, his eyes glinting in the moonlight where they are looking over at Stiles.
“Can’t,” Stiles laments, trying to catch the comforter between his arms in lieu of his dearly missed pillow. It doesn’t really work, because the comforter also has to cover Derek’s bulk and there’s little left to use. Little to none, especially when Derek snatches the comforter back from where it was probably leaving a cold gap on Derek’s other side. The sudden move has Stiles sort of falling over from where he was laying on his side. He’s more on his front now, filling up the space that was between them at first. He can feel the warmth of Derek’s body from just a few inches away. It’s actually kind of comforting.
“Try harder,” Derek commands and he closes his eyes again.
Stiles thinks of answering ‘Yes, Alpha’, but thinks better of it. It might make Derek move again, to push Stiles out of bed instead of pulling him in to have a cuddle. So he stays quiet and closes his eyes, focussing his mind on the almost tangible presence of Derek’s bare shoulder mere inches away. Derek is warm and smells nice and if Stiles was a werewolf, he’s sure he’d feel even better about having his Alpha so close. Yet even though he’s not a werewolf, he still enjoys it. A lot.
He falls asleep.
He knows that, because he wakes up at some point, at an unknown hour of the night. He’s warm, so warm. And comfortable, even though his pillow is a lot firmer than he remembers it being. It also moves a little, because his pillow is Derek and the Alpha werewolf gently moves his arm in what Stiles suspects is a more comfortable position. He would panic about sleeping half on top of Derek if he were not so damn comfortable. It’s hard to keep his eyes open. Surely if Derek wouldn’t want him sleeping on him, he’d push Stiles off. Instead, Stiles feels Derek’s arm wrap around his back, accompanied by a soft sigh from the Alpha.
Stiles sleeps.
***
Derek is not the first to wake up, although he is certainly not the last. He becomes aware of the world with Stiles wrapped around his torso, his head pillowed on Derek’s chest. He’s only a little surprised by how good it feels to wake up like this and it takes a while before he brings himself to carefully move out of Stiles’ embrace. The boy mumbles a little, but doesn’t wake up. Derek watches him for a moment, standing beside his bed. He’s not sure how to feel about this, except for some embarrassment about wanting to crawl back into bed and slot himself back into Stiles’ arms.
Downstairs, most of the pack is still asleep. Isaac has his arms wrapped around Jackson’s lower legs, as if he’s cuddling a particularly bony teddy bear. Jackson is still asleep, even snoring softly. Scott snores too, curled around his girlfriend in the large armchair. In the other armchair, Boyd is watching him carefully, his arms wrapped around his sleeping girlfriend. 
“Morning,” the dark man rumbles quietly, not to wake Erica.
“Morning,” Derek answers, keeping his voice down as well. “Coffee?”
Boyd inclines his head in thanks and Derek ambles on to the kitchen, where he finds Lydia, immersed in a science journal. She has a cappuccino sitting in front of her, the cup half empty. “Good morning, Derek,” she says, briefly glancing up from her reading material.
“Morning,” he repeats, busying himself with the coffee maker. He brings a cup to Boyd when he’s done and returns to join Lydia at the table. He sits back in his chair, his coffee in front of him, to catch the rays of pale sunlight that slant through the high windows. It’s quiet in the loft, with most of the people still sleeping and the ones that are awake quietly starting up their day.
He sips from his coffee, listening to the sounds of Cora waking up and going into the bathroom. She comes downstairs not long after, dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt - same as her brother, her bare feet hardly making a sound. He points to the mostly full pot of coffee on the counter when she enters the kitchen and he gets a hair ruffle as thanks from his little sister. She pours herself a cup and leans against the counter, enjoying the sunlight on her face just like he is. 
It’s Stiles who comes down next, although Derek can hear from the way he drags his feet that he’s barely awake. Why he’s not sleeping in like he should be, is anyone’s guess. He expects Stiles to stop in the living room, to wake up Scott or maybe even Jackson if he’s feeling particularly cheeky, but he doesn’t. The footsteps pretty much make a beeline from the stairs towards the kitchen. Derek opens one eye from where he closed them against the sunrays to see Stiles shuffling towards him in his boxers and T-shirt, rubbing a hand over his face and yawning soundlessly. His hair is standing up on one side. He’s wearing socks, navy blue ones with a red line near the toes.
The werewolf opens his mouth to point his packmate towards the coffee maker, but before he can say anything, Stiles has reached his chair and slings a hairy leg over his lap. He plonks down unceremoniously and lays his head on Derek’s shoulder, arms wrapping loosely around his waist. 
“You were gone,” Stiles mumbles disapprovingly, his mouth moving against Derek’s collarbone. And just like that his heartbeat evens out and he’s fast asleep again.
Derek sits frozen in his chair, his heart beating loudly inside his ribcage. If Stiles were awake he could probably feel it pound against his own chest. His hands hover uselessly on either side, not knowing whether to wrap around Stiles or pick him up and toss him to the floor. 
Stiles is oblivious, his sleeping body moulding easily against Derek’s. He’s warm and pliant, just like he was when they were sleeping together in Derek’s bed. 
When he chances a look at Lydia across the table, she’s already watching him steadily with a sly smile playing around the corners of her lips. “Glad to see you two finally got your heads out of your asses,” she comments eventually, before primly taking a sip from her cappuccino and going back to her reading.
Behind him, Cora snorts quietly in amusement. She comes up at his back and puts a hand in his hair again, running her fingers through the short strands. It’s grounding and Derek only notices how much he needs that when she lightly scratches her nails across his scalp. 
“He’s cute like this,” his sister remarks and even though he can hear the humour in her voice, he can also hear the truth in her heartbeat. “Best not wake him up, big bro.” She runs her hand through his hair one last time and then she wanders off, leaving him to carefully wrap one arm around Stiles’ lower back.
Slowly, Derek feels himself relax. The loft is quiet and peaceful and Derek is in his own little bubble, with the sunlight on his face and Stiles in his lap. Almost automatically, he starts to rub his hand slowly up and down Stiles’ back. Aside from some sleepy snuffling, there’s no real response. Derek picks his coffee back up and slowly drinks it, tilting his face towards the sun. It’s a nice morning.
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bigfatbimbo · 3 months
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hi!!!! so i absolutely adore ur writing and was wondering if you could do angst. idk if this is up your alley or anything but if it’s not you don’t have to write it dw abt it!
so basically vox x reader
reader is really sad bc something happened and just isn’t in the mood for vox when he comes home from work. so vox being himself is annoying and instead of reader being mad or even like having a reaction (she’s usually a dom btw) she just like breaks down. ik this is a little random but i think it’s a pretty cute idea. have a nice day/night xxx
a/n — I had a TERRIBLE day so here’s this hurt/comfort fic to cope.
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Vox’s shit-eating grin slowly faltered before completing dropping as he took in the situation. He barely even remembered what he’d said but, obviously, you didn’t take it well.
He felt a pang of guilt as he looked at you on the couch, crying into your hands. He knew you were in a bad mood when he got home. Of course, he didn’t know just how bad of a mood.
He saw your irritation right off that bat, he had asked what was wrong and you had brushed him off, snapping at him slightly. 
That’s about when Vox had decided to escalate the situation. Throwing annoying taunts at you, teasing you, begging for you to do something about it.
Of course he wanted a reaction, but more on the lines of you slamming him against a wall and putting him in his place. Under no circumstances did he think you would start crying.
And yet, here you were, crying into your hands on the couch, over some bratty remark Vox had made.
“I— uh, my dear, I didn’t mean anything—“ he tried to clarify, stretching his arm slightly out as if to touch you. He wasn’t sure what to do.
“Shut up, Vox,” you cried, “Don’t you know when to shut up?” Your words weren’t laced with venom or overly angry liked he’d expected. In fact, that would have been better.
In contrast to your usual nature, you just seemed overall sad. More than sad, Vox thought, totally spent. 
It was no secret he was terrible at comforting people, giving people false hope and manipulating them into doing something for him, sure. But this?
Well, convincing someone they feel better and actually making someone feel better were incredibly different. He was totally lost.
Your sobs got louder and more violent as moments passed. And yet, he stood there like an idiot, giving you a blank stare.
As if going through the motions, he recites a list in his mind. What to people usually do to help someone when they’re crying? Maybe, give them a hug?
He sighed and sat down next to you on the couch, cautiously putting his hand your shoulder and rubbing gently. 
Apologize next, Vox’s mental list demanded. 
“Look,” he started, awkwardly fiddling with his collar, “I didn’t mean to bother you by giving you all that shit. I knew you weren’t in the mood I just—“ 
He struggled with the next part, “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”
The strange thing is, he really really meant it. Usually, an apology for Vox was one step further in getting what he wanted all along. However, this time the fact he made you cry actually erked him like nothing else before.
He apologized solely because he wanted you to feel better.
“I’m just not in the mood for your shit, Vox,” you  answer, choked out and muffled as you wipe the tears from your face. 
“I know. Well, now I do.” He went over his metal list once more, “So what’s got you so out of sorts this evening, my dear?”
“I’ve just—“ you sniff, trying to take in your thoughts, “—I’ve had a long day.”
“I’m all ears,” he answers immediately. If there’s one thing Vox was good at, it was listening.
You rant to him about the mishaps of the day, how fed up you were with so-and-so, how tired you were of life being so hard.
The entire time, Vox listened, plotting the perfect reply out in his mind, and checking off boxes on his list.
“Well, it’s over now, your home. And I won’t be an asshole anymore,” He says, earning a raised eyebrow from you. 
“I’ll try not to be an asshole anymore,” he corrects, provoking a small but noticeable smile out of you. He rewards himself, internally.
Hug them, he told himself. 
He moved closer to you and hesitantly wrapped his arms around your stomach, rubbing your back gently. To his delight, you ease into the hug, arms looping around his neck as you recovered from your breakdown.
“You’re so not getting laid tonight, by the way,” you joke, still in the hug.
“Yes, my dear. Unfortunately, I figured.” he sighed and continued rubbing your back.
“Do you wanna go watch TV upstairs?” you inquire.
“Always,” he grinned.
“Do you wanna keeping hugging while we do that,” you ask, genuinely curious.
His smile softened, “always.”
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a/n — and then the next day you railed him into a mattress until he was crying harder than you ever were. The end.
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risuola · 4 months
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MISERABLE — F. READER x GOJO SATORU
Satoru hated the way he would recognize you always, even if just by the taste of your tears.
cw: angst, husband Gojo, hurt/barely any comfort, brief physical abuse, blood mentioned, verbal abuse mentioned, borderline toxic relationship, general sadness and sorrow — 2,6k words
a/n: the spontaneous pour of my brain, the angstiest parts of it are the most active during the night... could this be tied to too much? idk, maybe
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“Do you think we could ever be happy?”
The question cut through the silence of the evening like a knife, reaching your ears and mind in a way that made you hum. Your hand not even for a moment stopped the gentle motion of brushing through the soft hair of a man whose head was resting on top of your lap. The gesture automated and yet still somehow warm, still filled with emotions that over the years remained unspoken.
“Do you think we–, no, I could have done all of this differently?”, Satoru asked again, his tired gaze fixed on the golden ring he kept between his fingers. The band that sealed your love at the altar nearly five years ago. One that you took off for the first time since you vowed in front of him, promising him your heart, body and soul till the end of days.
“I’m not sure if we were meant to be happy,” you told him quietly, keeping your hand occupied by the snowy strands. The words made your throat clench the moment they left your mouth; your voice cracked just slightly at the end of the sentence. You felt your body aching from the intensity of the feelings, like all of your cells were suddenly on fire, your heart bleeding inside your chest as if the knife was stabbed right through it.
“You think so?” His voice stayed low, nearly whisper-like as he was taking in what you said. “Were we supposed to be miserable?”
“I don’t know, Satoru,” you mouthed, not much sound leaving your lips.
Your hand felt light, distressingly so, you hated the sensation. You knew this was how it had to end, you knew that the time would come to part ways with your husband, but nothing could have prepared you for the heaviness of it. You felt it all on your shoulders, weighing you down as if the entire world just collapsed and rested on you. Suddenly you felt like things as trivial as breathing became exhausting, there was not an ounce of certainty in you, not a single drop of the belief that you will be alright without him. Satoru was a part of you, he was like a vital organ without which you felt like you won’t be able to live further. But, at the same time, that very organ seemed to kill you slowly, seeping poison right to your bloodstream, hurting you time after time. A disaster. You two were a disaster.
“I’m really sorry,” he breathed out after few moments of suffocating silence. “You deserve the world that I couldn’t give you.”
“I never wanted the world,” you denied, your head shaking just slightly as you allowed your knuckles to brush against his cheek. “You are my world, Satoru. I never needed anything else. You are all I want, you are everything that my heart loves.”
“And yet, I fucked even that up,” he chuckled. A bitter undertone felt nearly palpable as it echoed in the empty area. Satoru knew it was all him. Hurting you time after time, he never thought of it until it was already said and done and yet, you were always by his side. Every shit he said to you, every word that left his mouth you took and forgave. All he could do was to savor your cries and he hated himself for the way he would recognize you always, even if just by the taste of your tears.
You were an angel, he always thought. You were too good for him, too patient and too forgiving. Even in the heat of an argument, you tried to talk him down from his outbursts. You were the one to hug him tightly to your chest, to press his ear right above your heart even if he stabbed it with his words just a moment before. You showed him nothing but love, and yet that day… Satoru had no idea what possessed him when he clenched his fist during the argument. He feels like he blacked out for a moment, because it’s only after you spit the alarming amount of blood, kneeling on the ground and keeping a strong hold over your stomach, that Gojo realized that he just hit you with the blue infused fist. It felt unreal, he couldn’t believe his own eyes. He felt like his own body betrayed him. Why would he do that?
And then, he was right at your feet, apologizing frantically as you tried to regain your breath, to not vomit, to push the pain away from your thoughts but you just couldn’t. It hurt so much, you felt like all of the organs inside you were crashed after that one, single hit. The taste of metallic covered your tongue, your vision went blurry for a couple of seconds and at first, you couldn’t even hear the repetition of sorrys that was leaving Satoru’s mouth. He was terrified and so lost. Disgusted by his own self, hating the way he lost control over his body and hurt you. Before that, the sight of your tears was something that often kept him up at night. Remorseful thoughts haunted him constantly, but now, he knew that they won’t show up anymore. Now he’ll be seeing your blood, he was certain of it. Now, he’ll be seeing your curled in pain form, gasping for air as the red is gushing from your throat. And he’ll know that he was the reason for it. That it’s him, your husband who should protect you from any harm, who caused your suffering. Even the thought of it felt surreal. Was there any good in him? Or was he just a monster?
But then, you slowly got up. Satoru had no idea how long it took, but you pushed your body up and sat yourself against the wall. You knew him well enough, you knew the state of panic that he was in that very moment and your heart broke at the sudden realization of what’s to come. Inviting him onto your lap, you let your hands wander through his hair, calming him slowly in the silence of your shared home. Then you gave him the ring. Gold, now stained with blood enough to cover the love promise that he had engraved inside the band. The vow that he wasn’t able to keep.
“Please, don’t leave me,” he whispered, knowing it’s futile to ask. You could feel the hot tears dropping from his face onto the skin of your thighs and even though he seemed calm right now, you knew him all too well to know how broken he is, laying there in complete submission to your touch. He wasn’t moving, his gaze was fixed on the jewelry he held in his hand, his eyes studying the I’ll love you forever etched into the metal.
“I don’t want to leave you,” you confessed, still gently caressing the side of his face and his hair. If it was your choice, you’d stay with him till the end of your days. You could withstand the verbal outbursts, the heated arguments – you were a part of them, you had your fair share in the hurtful words, even though you knew how heavily it was bordering toxicity. But that day the line was crossed, and you could tell he wasn’t in the right state of mind when his fist clenched before. For a split second, it wasn’t your Satoru, it wasn’t the love of your life. For that brief moment, it was the strongest sorcerer in the world, the menace, as others call him, a threat. All of your marriage you felt safe near him. The power he possessed he always used to ensure your well-being, you not even once had to fear him because of how gifted he is. He never used his jujutsu against you. Not until that day.
“Then don’t,” a plead. He had no right to ask you to stay, he was all too aware of that.
“I’m scared of you, Satoru…”
You fear him. The sound of these words rang inside Gojo’s head for a good moment, rendering him speechless and you suffocated in the silence. You hated the sentence that just left your mouth, you hated the feeling of frighten that was cursing through your veins. You never felt uneasy next to your husband. Even if it’s right after the argument, you were always certain that if any danger occurred, he’d be the first by your side to shield you from it and he showed that to you many times, protecting you from threats as trivial as you grabbing the hot pan handle. Even in the heat of a fight between you two, he’d be the first to kneel in front of you and kiss your knee if you hit it onto the table. You can speak no words but he’d carry you in his arms from the other side of the city if he knew your feet hurt from walking. But now, how could you feel safe if you know he can be pushed to the point of using his strength against you?
“I…” He began but fell silent as soon as he opened his mouth. How could he even explain what happened to him? How could he reassure you that it won’t ever happen again if he himself wasn’t even sure what made him punch you in the guts? He couldn’t even remember what was the reason for the argument before it occurred. “I don’t know what happened,” he said truthfully. “I feel like I blacked out for a moment, I would never—”
“I couldn’t recognize you for a moment,” you exhaled, closing your eyes. The picture of his face right before the hit flashed against your eyelids. That was the Gojo from the battlefield, not your husband. “But if that happened now, how could I ever be sure it won’t happen again? I don’t want to die by your hand, Satoru, and we both know you are strong enough to kill me in one hit.”
“You’re afraid I’d kill you?” It felt surreal. Was it even happening right now? Satoru’s voice dropped down to a whisper. “Do you think I’d be able to do that…?” He wasn’t sure either.
“I don’t know.”
It was a nightmare. One of those from which Satoru couldn’t wake up, no matter how harshly he would pinch himself. The agonizing weight of reality felt heavy on his body, it hurt physically, it made him want to scream, to cry, to die. What was the point of his life if he couldn’t even keep one person safe? He always prided himself for being a man of his word and yet the promise to love and cherish you till death part you seemed unachievable to him.
“I don’t know what happened. Why my body acted the way it did. But love, please believe me,” he was desperate as he raised from your lap, kneeling in front of you and gently cupping the sides of your face. His touch was almost non-existent, he was scared to put any pressure against your skin but you leaned into his palms. Your fingers found their place around his wrist, smoothing the area softly with your thumb as you looked into the blue of his eyes. There was despair storming inside the ocean of his irises, the depth of fear painting its picture on his features and it hurt you to see him like this. “Please, believe me that I would rather die myself rather than hurt you ever again. There’s nothing I can do now to erase what I did, if I could cut my hand off just to make sure it will never cause you any pain, I’d do that without second thought.”
“We both know it will grow back,” you muttered lightly and he chuckled just barely at the remark. Satoru rested his forehead against yours, the tips of your noses kissed as he allowed himself to close his eyes and you did the same.
“I love you. I can’t go without you, I can’t live without you. You’re everything that I have and I know I have been a shitty husband. We argue a lot, I said so many things that I should never even think of. Fuck, I caused you so much pain… I know I don’t deserve you. I know it’s selfish of me to ask you to stay with me even though I’m the reason for your suffering, but please, please, just give me one last chance.”
“Satoru…”
“Please, let’s change it all, let me fix it,” he was babbling, you could tell how much panic was seeping into the voice that was leaving his mouth. “I’ll change, I will do everything, anything, to make you feel safe. To make you feel how important you are for me, how much I love you.”
 “I know you love me,” you whispered, pressing a kiss onto the heel of his palm.
“Don’t kiss that hand, you should hate it,” he sighed. The feeling of your lips on the hand that caused you pain burned him alive.
“I can’t hate any part of you. Even that hand, I love with all my heart.”
“Then stay. Don’t leave me, please, I beg you. I know I’m a handful, I’m terrible, I’m—”
“I knew you are a handful when I married you,” you cut him. “I knew who I’m saying I do to. Even though we fight so often, you never failed to make me feel safe. With all your power, I was never scared of you.”
“If I could give up that power just so you’d know I’ll never use it against you anymore, I would. And believe me, most of the nights I can’t sleep because the sight of your tears is haunting me and now, I know I won’t ever be able to forgive myself for the way I hit you. The blood, the hurt… God, you bled because of me…”
Feeling unworthy of being at the same level as your face, Satoru lowered his head, aiming to back away from you and rest his forehead at your feet where it should be, but you were quick to grab him by the fabric of his shirt and pull him to your chest. Once again, his mind went blank as the calm sound of your heartbeat drown out the hurricane of thoughts in his head. The warmth of your body enveloped him along with your arms as you wrapped them around his figure and out of habit, his own hands snaked your waist. You had the ability to make the world stop, to erase everything that wasn’t just you and him in the universe. You were what he needed to be able to live. No air and water could keep him alive if it wasn’t for your presence right next to him.
“I’ll stay,” the words left your mouth as a whisper but despite the quiet tone, it sounded confident. You were sure of your decision. You were sure of him, there was a lot more to Satoru Gojo than just that one moment and you realized it while kissing the hand that punched you. It got to you that what you felt wasn’t fear of him, but it was a fear of losing him. “But promise me something.”
“Yes?”
“Not today… But tomorrow, let’s sit and talk. About everything. Let’s clarify the things that we argue about, so we won’t need to anymore.”
“I’d love that. I hate fighting with you. You are all I need in life and yet I’m hurting you so often.”
“So tomorrow. We will talk about it all, okay?”
“Yes. Yes, I promise you. The world on fire won’t stop me from taking the time with you.”
“Good… now, let’s just stay like this.”
“Yeah…”
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The Farmer's Daughter 13
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Characters: Walter Marshall
Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)
Part of the Backwoods AU
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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You finish your tea in tenuous silence. With an agreement between you, there isn't much left to say. You really don't know what to say or do. All the implications pile on you as your mind races.
A wife? A good wife. What does a good wife do?
Support her husband. Love him. Show him affection...
That last thought tingles in your cheeks. You peek over at Walter as you hug your empty mug in your hands. What does he expect of you? Not just in your marriage but tonight? You haven't wed just yet.
He meets your eyes, brushing his hand over his curls. He slides forward on the cushion as your shoulders slope down. He still looks angry.
"Done?" He asks, not waiting for your answer before he stands.
"Yeah, I... I am, thank you."
He approaches and takes the mug from you. He goes into the kitchen without another word. You peer over at the windows, rain still battering the panes. You sniff and stand with a shiver as you search around, your clothes still showing damp patches.
"The truck..." you mutter.
"What about he truck?" Walt frightens you and you turn to face him, wrapping your arms around yourself. He stops to shut off the space heater.
"It's down the road. I couldn't get it all the way here..."
"We'll worry about that tomorrow," he grits.
"Right... tomorrow?"
He blinks, "you can stay. It's safer."
He nears and offers his hand. You stare at it, it seems so big. You slowly unfold your arms and put your hand in his. He squeezes, firm but not unkind.
"Are you tired?" His tone softens.
"A little," you feel a yawn trying to break free and put your chin down.
He leads you around the couch and back into the entryway. He ushers you towards the stairs as the cold air creeps up your legs. You climb up beside him, crowded on the staircase.
"Well, we'll get you tucked in then and we'll figure everything else out tomorrow," he affirms.
"Yeah, sounds good," you wilt out.
We. Not I, not you. We. Together.
He hums and says nothing else. He takes you down the hallway to a room at the end. He flips the light switch. There's a four-post bed on a brown rug with a green quilt is draped atop the layers of bedding. A desk stands in the corner, cluttered and full. Several sweaters hang from the back of the chair, much like the soft wool he wears no.
He leads you to the bed and throws back the blankets. He tugs you towards the edge and lets you go. You climb up and wiggle your cold toes. Before you can reach for the covers, he tosses them over you.
Wordless, he backs away. He rolls his broad shoulders as he turns his back to you and nears the long dresser against the wall, a basket on top of it heaped with clothes. He pulls his sweater over his head, further mussing his curls. As he reveals his thickly muscled back, you look away.
You guess you never thought much about how he looked. You always just saw him as strong and big, but you never delved that deep. Your eyes trail over as he undoes his jeans and steps out of those. He dumps them into the basket of laundry and leans on the dresser as he peels off his socks.
He turns to you, in a pair of boxers, and you shyly flick your eyes to the ceiling and lay back against the pillows. The image of the hair across his burly chest has your insides brewing. He's older than you but can't be that old.
He goes to shut off the light and you sense his shadow in the darkness, lurking closer and closer. You nearly gasp as his weigh shifts the bed and cool air seeps under the covers as he slides beneath them. You're nearly shaking with uncertainty.
You're going to sleep in the same bed. That's not unusual... technically, you're engaged so it's expected. He lowers himself down beside you and you squeak as he grabs you. He pulls you towards him, guiding an arm beneath you as he angles you onto your side.
You let him. Maybe you want this or maybe you're terrified. Either way, you can't deny him. You have a deal.
He curls his other arm around your middle as you lay flush to him, your short figure nestled against his large one. His chest rises and falls calmly against your back as your own heart hammers frantically. You close your eyes, folding your arm around his as you rest your small hand on his thick fingers.
He's as hot as a furnace. His body heat quickly chases away the lingering cold in your flesh. It soothes you in a way you don't expect. You feel safe despite your vibrating nerves.
"Good night, lamb," he kisses the crown of your head.
His deep voice rolls through you, a new sort of chill flowing down your body.
"Night, Walt," you murmur.
He lets out a noise, somewhere between a growl and a purr, and you feel the tension slake away from his body. It might not be so bad. He can be nice so long as you go along.
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crashandlivewrites · 3 months
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@soapsgf and I were feeling gay so we wrote lesbian fics for each other <3
Pairing: fem!Ghost x fem!reader (or rather, stone top butch Ghost x pillow princess reader)
CW: MDNI 18+ content, NSFW, cunnilingus, mention of a strap, relationship insecurities, Ghost communicating (?!?!), use of daddy one (1) time
Word Count: 2.1k (this was meant to be a drabble oops)
You were cuddled up on the couch late at night in your small flat you shared with your girlfriend, Simone, whenever she was back from deployment. Your hands had slithered their way underneath her jacket and shirt, leeching the warmth from her body as she had one of her muscled arms thrown casually over you, keeping you tucked into her side as her fingers traced mindless patterns over your body.
Playing on the tv was a reality show you enjoyed, yet tonight you weren’t really paying attention to it. Simone had even chimed in a few times, to show her interest in the show for you, but her statements and questions remained unanswered. It wasn’t until something ridiculous happened that would normally have pulled a barking laugh from you that she decided enough was enough.
Switching the tv, she placed a hand over your shoulder, shaking you lightly.
“You gonna tell me what’s been rollin’ in your head since I got home or not, pretty girl?” Her voice startled you, breaking you out of your daydream as you pulled back from her, furrowing your brows.
“What? I’m sorry, wasn’t listening.”
“Clearly.” She gave you a pointed look. “Wanna know what’s on your mind, lovie. You haven’t been right since I got back.”
“Nothing. Just tired. Been a long day.” You tried to dissuade her, waving your hand as you reached over her to take the remote, only to my stopped by her firm fingers on your wrist.
“I’m not stupid, nor blind, love. You haven’t been yourself. You’ve been quiet.”
Cursing inwardly, you looked away from your overly observant girlfriend, trying not to show your discomfort. Of course, she’d noticed the small things that no one else would. Your brows furrowed and you wrung your fingers as you tried to search for the right words. Simone just sat there, a reassuring hand against your shoulder, letting you know she was there to listen. She always was.
“It’s stupid… really, I don’t know why it’s affected me so much.” The hesitancy was evident in your voice, and her eyes narrowed slightly.
“It’s not nothing. It’s got you in a tiff.”
“It’s…” You faltered, eyes flicking around the room as you were unable to look at her. Only when her hand reached out to grip your jaw did you force yourself to meet her gaze and continue. “It’s about sex.”
“What about it?”
“I just… don’t you feel left out?” Her brows knitted together, and she angled her head, signalling for you to continue. “I feel like I’m always just lying there when we have sex. I do nothing. You’re doing everything, Simone, including getting me off but not yourself. Don’t you hate that?”
Her hand went soft on your jaw as her thumb stroked your cheek, eyes boring into yours.
“What stupid video have you seen now?” Blinking, you cocked your head and looked at her in bewilderment.
“How did you—”
“Doesn’t take much. Let me guess, some wanker of a broad on tiktok made a video about how pillow princesses are lazy and should do more work, hmm?” Simone leaned forward, getting into your space as you stared at her, dumbfounded.
“But isn’t it true?”
“I think you’re missing the point of the term, princess.” She elongated the term of endearment as her hand ran down your neck. “I like making you feel good. Just you. Besides, the way you sound when you come, who wouldn’t want to hear that?”
Your face heated and you tried to push her away in protest as she smiled, flashing a toothy grin before running her tongue along her lips. Though her words struck a chord with you, there was still some lingering doubts swimming in your head.
You could count the total amount of times you’d gotten her off with your own mouth or fingers on one hand. The queasiness in your stomach, however, didn’t fade with her reassurance.
“Do you not like me in that way?” Your voice was small and filled with shame, as if you already knew the question was stupid, but you couldn’t stop the feeling from clawing its way up. Simone’s eyes softened and her long fingers ran along the back of your head.
“Lovie, it’s not like that. You know it takes me a lot to want to be in the mood to receive. It’s got nothing to do with not wanting you. I’m here, aren’t I?”
“But your job is stressful! Surely you’d want some release when you come back?”
“You’re my release, princess.” She whispers, voice lowering as she leans in. “The way you’re so obedient for me, how you spread your legs so eagerly, how wet you get when my fingers barely graze your skin… you’re a fucking sight, princess. And you’re mine.”
The drop in her tone sent a rush of arousal through you. Pursing your lips and squeezing your thighs together, you whine in protest.
“I want to please you!”
“You do fuckin’ please me, lovie. The sight of you on our bed, legs spread open, begging for me to touch you like a good little slut. My good little slut. Makes my head spin. Hearin’ you scream my name as you squirt over my face? A fucking godsend.”
Simone was now shuffling over the couch into your space. You felt the sturdy armrest pressing into your body as you leaned back, face heating and heart thumping. True to her words, your legs were unconsciously spreading for her, accomodating her broad frame as she nestled between your thighs, her large hands caressing your pliant one.
“Simmy…” Your voice was barely above a squeak as she cocked her eyebrow up at you, the smirk on her face deadly.
“What is it, my little princess? What do you need?”
“You.” Simone hummed, shaking her head.
“More specific, princess. You know the rules.” Her hands slid up your thin shirt, tweaking at your nipples and drawing a gasping moan from you.
“Mouth… want your mouth Simmy please.”
“My mouth where?” She pressed, squeezing your tits now in her large hands as her mouth descended on the bare skin of your stomach, pressing soft kisses as she waits for you to reply.
Moaning both in delirious pleasure and frustration, you managed to lift your head up and look down at her with a frown.
“You’re so cruel.” You pouted accusingly at her, and she laughed darkly in response, but she didn’t make any further movements. Not able to resist any longer, you tilted your hips up so they were closer to her mouth. “Want your mouth on my pussy and want you to make me come.”
This time, your girlfriend grinned wickedly, adjusting you both so your legs were thrown over her muscled shoulders.
“My good fucking girl, using her words. Gonna reward you for that.” And she did.
Her lips immediately latched onto your clit after pushing your underwear aside, dragging her tongue up your slit as she moaned, fingers digging into the plushness of your thighs. Moaning into your cunt, she moved down, tongue lapping over your wetness as your fingers wound their way into her hair.
She usually buzzed it short whenever she left for the field, then let it grow. Right now, it was just long enough for you to tug at with your fingers as you cried out her name. Simone had always been godly with her mouth, and tonight was no different.
Tonight, she was taking her time with you, pressing soft kisses over your sensitive flesh, her tongue sliding languidly up your cunt, delving into your wet hole and groaning at your taste.
“So fuckin’ wet f’me lovie. Practically dripping on our couch.” Our couch, she says. You grin amidst the pleasure, thinking about how quickly Simone began to call your home hers as well.
Sucking your clit back into her mouth, she reached down so the pads of her fingers were prodding at your soaked entrance. Clutching at her hair, you rolled your hips, eager to feel the delicious stretch as she pressed her long fingers into you. But she didn’t. Instead, she clicked her tongue and pulled back.
“So greedy tonight, princess. What was all that talk about earlier? Wanting to do all the work? No sweets, you belong here, beneath me writhing and moaning like the little slutty princess you are.”
“Simone.” You whined, rolling your hips once more as your cunt throbbed in need.
“Look at you.” She cooed, grinning salaciously as her eyes raked over your body, clothes having been shoved haphazardly out of the way. “Looking like a proper slag now, princess. Cunt all wet and swollen, perfect tits out on display. Should take a photo.”
Your lips parted at the suggestion, the debate waging in your head.
“Is that what you want?” She hummed thoughtfully.
“Probably not. As much as I’d love to show you off and brag to the blokes that you’re a fuckin’ babe, you’re mine, princess. And only I can see you like this.” To back up her words, Simone’s teeth dragged possessively along your inner thigh, wringing out another moan from you.
Returning her attention to your clit, she flicked it with the tip of her tongue, the barest stimulation still sending shivers up your spine and making your thighs clench around her ears. Ghosting her middle finger down your slit, she pressed it inside you, groaning at the ease.
“Fuck lovie… never gonna get over that feeling.” She pressed another in for good measure and curled, making you squeal and grip her hair tightly, holding her face to your cunt as she ravished you.
“Please… oh god please Simmy. ‘m gonna come.” You panted, heat pooling in you. She pulled back, thumbing your clit as she grinned down at you, fingers still plunging into your slick hole.
“Yeah? You gonna be a good girl for me and come, aren’t you? Gonna make a mess all over our couch and make it smell like you?” Now it was her turn to moan as she leaned back down, alternating between her tongue and thumb as she spoke.
“Love the way you smell, the way you taste… I’d live off you if I could, sweet girl. My good girl. Mine.”
“Yours, Simmy… always yours.” You managed to get out, head spinning as your fingers tightened. You were spiralling, her attentiveness to you was unparalleled, knowing exactly where to press, flick, and suck.
Unable to contain the feeling, you cried out, one hand flying to grip the couch below you as your back arched and thighs trembled. You could feel your pussy pulsing around her fingers, clenching around them tighter as the coil in your gut tightened. Your body was tantalisingly close, perched on a knife’s edge before the spring snapped and you moaned her name as your eyes fluttered closed, head tipping back.
Simone hummed contentedly into your pussy, lapping gently as she worked you through your release. Once your body had sagged back down onto the couch and your walls had stopped spasming around her fingers, she lowered back down to place a soft kiss on the hood of your clit. Jerking from overstimulation, you whined softly, but giggled as you opened your eyes blearily to look up into her smiling face.
“So fuckin’ pretty, lovie.” She whispered before diving in to claim your mouth, tongue immediately pressing in so you could taste yourself. Pulling back just as quickly, her eyes darkened with lust, she looked down at you, head cocked slightly.
“Got an idea, princess. Since you had all that talk about doing some work in the bedroom, why don’t you get out that strap of mine that makes you scream?”
Drawing your lip into your mouth, you nodded eagerly, quickly getting up on shaky legs as you stumbled to the bedroom. You could hear Simone laughing as you walked, but you didn’t care. Returning, strap in hand, you held it out to her.
It was a mean thing, cruelly thick and curved, large enough to hit that spot inside you that made you cream with ease, and she knew it too. Standing up, Simone loomed over you, shucking off her jacket and pants revealing her hulking frame, she tugged on the strap before sitting back down on the couch, legs spread in a way that made you want to crawl between them and worship her. But she had other plans.
“Want you to ride me, lovie. Ride my cock until you can’t take it anymore and need me to take over. Wanna watch that pretty face fall apart as you realise you can’t come without me, then I’ll plow you into the couch.” Whining softly, you crawled into her lap, positioning yourself over her strap.
“Be a good girl and ride Daddy’s cock, like a pretty little slut.”
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aajjks · 7 months
Text
The price of Love (II)
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synopsis. they say the price of love is dangerous, but jungkook would pay anything to buy your love, at any cost.
warnings. Yändêrê thěměs, öbsëssïön, därk thěměs, crèèpy, änxïêty, öbsëssïön ät fïrst sïght.
pairing: Yandere sugar daddy!jungkook x sugar baby female!reader
viewer discretion is advised, yandere stuff can be very triggering so read at your own risk, also let’s remember that this is purely fictional and this does not represent bts or jungkook irl.
note. Hello hello. SHARE FEEDBACK PLEASE AND IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED, JUST REPLY UNDER THIS POST ONLY REPLY TO THIS POST.. THANK YOU ENJOY AND REMEMBER TO SEND ASKS FOR TPOL JK OR CHARACTERS.
part one x
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Yerin was going to be dead meat.
You were definitely going to kill her, “i had a good time with you- yn is it?” The man’s voice pulls you out of your murderous thoughts, you blink and regain your focus on him.
“Ahh I’m so glad, Mr Jeon… I had fun too..” you give him a kind smile, “I’m sorry if i was too awkward… I just didn’t know we’d have to be alone together- and celebrate your birthday.”
Jungkook, the mysterious man gives you an amused look once again, you wonder to yourself, what’s so amusing about you?
“just call me Jungkook.”
“I didn’t mind it honestly… i got to know you.” He’s so blunt, you inhale, trying to stop your cheeks from heating up. You look around, everywhere but him.
“That’s kind of you.. haha..” you bite your lip, looking all over the luxurious interior of the restaurant. “Was the food up to your liking, yn?”
“Oh are you kidding me? This was the most delicious meal I’ve ever had in my life- i mean it was delicious.” Jungkook looks at you with his full attention.
“You are a very unique person yn.” He remarks suddenly and you feel so small under his heavy gaze.
He just means to say that you’re so cringey yn.
“Umm thank you..” you push your hair back, you feel so nervous.
“Well it’s getting late… and i have an early shift tomorrow so… allow me to leave?”
Jungkook doesn’t respond but raises his eyebrow, almost looking disappointed but maybe you’re reading too much into his expressions.
“Sorry, I meant to say that I should leave now… I hope you don’t mind?” You immediately correct your sentence and just keep on smiling lightly.
Hey stands up, without replying, “yes I know that actually but it would be really impolite of me to let you go alone at this hour, so allow me to drop you.”
“please?”
How does he even know that?
that’s the first thing that you mind registers, but as you watch his expressions soften, and a small smile on his lips, you give in.
Well, I would appreciate that because it’s really late and it would be hard for me to find an Uber… I appreciate it, J-Jungkook?”
The mans smile immediately widens, and his eyes shine.
Now he looks kind of cute.
“After you my lady.”
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He was not as worse as you thought he was.
His company was actually really comfortable as you sit in his car and he drove, light conversation was actually very nice but his aura remained dominant and Intense.
You weren’t the one to shut up, but in his presence, you could barely speak without feeling nervous.
You just kept and answering his questions, playing with your fingers to ease your nerves. It was hard for you to maintain eye contact with him because he was just such an intense person for you.
Intense is the only way you can describe him.
Well, you don’t talk much do you?” Jungkook halts the car and focuses on you once again, you almost gasp in surprise, you were already home.
“oh, it’s nothing like that. Maybe I’m just tired but thank you so much seriously.” Jungkook nods his head. “hold on don’t leave yet.
You stop your movements.
It takes you by surprise when he suddenly asks you to not leave. You wait for him to say anything else but he gets out of the car.
You sit in silence and patiently wait.
“is everything all right?” You ask him when he opens your door for you, concern is all over your face and he notices it but he doesn’t say anything, but offers his hand to you.
“Just trying to be polite and maybe… charming.”
That makes you laugh as he gives you a shy smile.
“I appreciate that.” You hesitate to give him your hand, but then you look at him and do it.
“I really enjoyed my time with you tonight.” he makes a conversation again as you walk towards your home. You feel his eyes all over you, but it doesn’t creep you out.
He’s not looking at you like you are a piece of meat. Instead his Eyes are fixated on you, like you are of the jewel of the most precious crown in the world.
That is the only way you can describe it, even though it sounds so cliché.
“Honestly, thank you. I don’t know I guess I am too much to handle but I’m glad you enjoyed my company..” “But I swear to God, I am- oh I don’t even know why they couldn’t make it?”
Jungkook hums along as you finally stop. “I’m here now and I know I’ve said thank you so so many times but I… appreciate you for dropping me home.” Do you think the man for the nth time.
“when you absolutely didn’t have to, and you didn’t even let me pay for the meal.. thank you.”
Jungkook crosses his arms to his chest, his biceps flex effortlessly, the white shirt, makes him look so good as you finally notice him under the street lights.
The long locks on him looks so good.
He is a very attractive man maybe that’s why you’re so nervous around him, well, that’s not entirely the only reason he’s pretty famous around your country too, and he’s literally a billionaire.
How did you get so lucky?
“if you are checking me out, I don’t mind at all.”
There you go feeling embarrassed as he points you staring out.
“could I please have your number? I think I would like to see you again if you don’t mind….” he doesn’t waste the opportunity to ask for your phone number.
He really isn’t shy.
“Umm.. I… are you sure because I think I should let you know something..”
You inhale and exhale deeply
“I am so sorry but I don’t- I’m not really looking for romance right now.. as much as I enjoyed the dinner with you, I only came there because of my friend…”
maybe you were too honest about this, but he needed to know, “ trust me I get that.”
His smile doesn’t falter at all, “I appreciate your honesty but don’t worry I’m not looking for something so serious too… but I think I like you already..”
He is standing there looking at you, his smile makes him even more attractive, “ oh really well that’s great we could be friends..”
He stalks closer to you, and takes out his phone.
“so?”
“Oh right, well it’s ____________”
“OK now I should really go. Goodbye Jungkook.” The guy waves and waits for you to go inside of your home. He dials another number in his phone after typing your phone number.
And smiles to himself.
“oh, I know exactly what to do.”
Everything was going in his favor, just like he had wanted.
487 notes · View notes
ash5monster01 · 1 year
Text
More Than You Know
Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader(Plus-size!)
Warnings: fat shaming, body image issues, swearing, angst, lots of yelling, fluff
Summary: You had liked Steve since the day you met but you never entertained the idea of being with him because you figured a popular guy like him would never date a girl your size. Coming to terms with this didn’t mean you’d stop defending him in a world full of ungrateful girls. So you reach your breaking point when you’re sick and tired of watching girls miss out on something that would be so good for them. Thing was, Steve heard everything you had to say.
word count: 2047
Masterlist
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“Looking good today Lola” you could practically see the smirk on Steve’s face from the sound of his voice. Looking up you saw his eyes trained on the blonde beside you, who had yet to put returns you had finished rewinding back on the shelf, her nail file much to important.
Lola Grant was everything you were not. Blonde, primp, perfect. Steve loved her for all of those things including her tiny waist. You on the other hand hated her for all of those things. She wore dresses with flower patterns and you still wore the same tattered converse, ripped and worn in all the best ways. Your jeans and Motley Crue T-shirt didn’t compare. You were not the same.
“Thanks Stevie” you hated the nickname, especially how it brought a smile the shaggy haired boys face.
“I was wondering if you were free Friday night, I’m having a movie night with the kids and was wondering if you wanted to join?” you had lost count of all the attempts Steve had made to ask the girl out. There had to of been a billion by now.
“Sorry Steve but that sounds pathetic spending Friday night with underage kids” she sneered, meanness dripping from her tone. Steves smile faltered only slightly and despite how much you hated him for still trying he was still your friend.
“Then what’s your ideal date Lola?” your tone was sharp, accusatory, and just plain angry that she couldn’t see how great a guy he was. Not that she deserved him anyway.
“A fancy dinner, wine, making out in a movie theater, third base in the back of a BMW. Nothing to do with babysitting” she responded promptly. Steve hummed with satisfaction, a dopey grin on his face. The sentence immediately making him forget how rude she was in the first place. His mind now only in the backseat of a BMW.
“Classy” you quipped, and she offered a forced smile but knew you were judging her. Yet a girl like you didn’t really get under her skin. How could you when you guys weren’t even in the same league of girls.
“We could do something else, maybe a movie?” you didn’t hide the roll of your eyes as Steve tried again.
“Maybe another time Stevie, I’m busy this weekend” a lie and you knew it, and maybe he did too. Finally picking up the stack of tapes you rewinded she moved off to place them on shelves.
“Get real Steve” you snipped, the moment she was out of ear shot.
“What’s your deal?” he asked and you shook your head, amused he couldn’t see how shitty she was.
“My deal is that girl sucks, you’ve got so much more going for you” you said pushing a new tape into the machine and hitting rewind. Steve moved behind the counter, taking Lola’s previous spot.
“She doesn’t suck, she’s cool and hot. Hard to get but I don’t give up” he smirked as he crossed his arms and you groaned, annoyed that he was so blinded by her fake appearance. She was nothing more than a girl who peaked in high school and Steve was so much more.
“She’s not cool nor is she hot. Don’t you ever think? If she actually had anything going for her she wouldn’t still be stuck here working in a video store” your anger caused the words to rattle out and Steves face dropped.
“Wonder what you think of me then?” you instantly realized your mistake and began shaking your head. You wished Robin wasn’t at school and was here to defend you.
“That’s not what I meant Steve-” but he was already shaking his head in offense and pushing himself off the counter.
“It’s exactly what you meant Y/N” he spoke harshly, hurt by his friend and the words you had spoke as he walked into the back room. Sighing you dropped your head on the counter, upset you pissed him off.
“What’s wrong? Did he deny you?” Lola chuckled as she returned to the counter now free of VHS tapes. Lola viewed life as a social ladder. She was on the top, Steve right below her, which is why she never dated him, and you were all the way on the bottom. She was out of Steve’s reach but you were miles away.
“No Lola, thanks for having faith in me” sarcasm laced your tone as you lifted your head.
“How could I have faith in you, you’ve never had a date in your life” she chuckled, annoyed you gave her so much crap when she saw you as absolutely nothing. She didn’t even think Steve should be talking to you.
“Shut up Lola” you spoke, not wanting anymore shit, already angry enough.
“You want to know why you haven’t had a date Y/N?” Lola expression turned menacing as she moved towards you, mean girl genes firing through her bones. “Because you’re fat, and weird, and no guy is attracted to that”
“You know what?” normally Lola would get to you, break your heart and allow tears to pool in your eyes. But today was your breaking point. She could treat you as badly as she wanted but you were done with her treating Steve like that.
“What?” her amused expression didn’t falter as she waited for some lame comeback bound to fall from your mouth.
“You’re a bitch Lola. Nothing more than a washed up high school mean girl. You’re gonna spend the rest of your life in this God forsaken town, running though men like their a God damn marathon, until you end up stuck with some creepy old man who knocked you up, and you’ll never be anything more than that girl from high school absolutely everyone hated” Lola was shocked as you continued to raise your voice at her, alerting Steve from the back room.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about” Lola began to shake her head but you were beyond angry now, laughing as you approached her. Steve moved to the door, listening to everything you both said.
“Yes I do, because everyday you treat Steve like shit when he thinks you’re the best thing on earth. Do you know how crazy that is? Steve is the greatest guy I know. He cares for so many people when he doesn’t even have to, including me, he even drives Robin to school everyday even if he doesn’t have to be up for work, because he’s such a great guy. He’s the kind of guy who would treat you right and every day for no fucking reason you tell him no” Lola opened her mouth to speak but you quickly held up a hand, not done with your spiel.
“Not to say you deserve a guy like that because you don’t, and twenty years from now, while your holding your child on the porch of your trailer home, you’re gonna be wishing you said yes to him. Every day I hope he’s gonna walk through those doors and ask me out instead because I know what he’s worth. He may be way out of both our leagues but at least I appreciate him. The only reason he still asks you is because you are the skinny, pretty girl, and that fucking stings. Yet I guess that’s how this cruel world works. So leave us both the fuck alone from now on” heavy breaths left your mouth as you finished, Steve having heard the whole thing, shocked to hear such passion come from you.
“Okay, I’m sorry” Lola muttered, before rushing from behind the counter. “I’m gonna take off, my shift is up anyway”
“Bye” you snipped, and she wore a guilty expression as she quickly collected her things and fled the building. You dropped your head back on the counter, now worked up from the drama. Steve finally walked out the back room, knowing Lola was gone.
“You think I ask her out because she’s prettier than you?” your shoulders tensed at his voice, not realizing he heard the whole thing. “Because you’re way prettier than her”
“Don’t lie to me right now Steve, guys don’t date big girls like me” you looked up as you shook your head at him. Steve didn’t care the enthuse the idea.
“I never asked you out because I thought you were too good for me” you furrowed your eyebrows as he continued to talk anyway. Steve had always thought you were pretty and on top of that you were also the best person he knew.
“I’m nothing special and you’re kinda the coolest person I know. I ask Lola out because she’s the kinda girl I’m gonna end up with, not because of her looks compared to yours. I’m just not good enough for you” you scoffed, not believing a word because you truly had never heard kind words like this before. It was also hard to believe he could feel like same way you had all this time, used to people avoiding you because of your size.
“I’m not looking for the you’re not fat, you’re beautiful speech. You weren’t supposed to hear what I said. So can we just drop it” you said turning away from him, uninterested in this lame attempt at making you feel better. You had accepted your fate a long time ago.
“You are beautiful Y/N. Fuck, why can’t you see that? I never asked you out because you were the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen and I didn’t want to ruin that” tears pooled in your eyes because if you let yourself believe him and it wasn’t true you weren’t sure you’d ever recover.
“You’re a great guy Steve, you wouldn’t ruin anything. I would” Steve’s heart warmed because he heard how you had defended him like that. Not even he thought he was so great and apparently you noticed him more than he thought you did.
“Thank you for defending me, and it made me realize that I do deserve someone who would defend me like that. So go out with me Y/N, and not just because of this whole thing, because I’ve wanted to date you since the day we met” you shook your head, the tears now falling down your face.
“Steve if you hurt me, I just can’t. I wouldn’t be able to handle it” Steve felt his heart break as he looked at you. Really looked at you and he felt terrible he had never made you realize how amazing you were in the first place. He was selfish staying away because you deserved to be shown you were just as beautiful as any girl Steve had dated.
“Let me prove you wrong” he said gripping your arms and you looked up at him, tear filled eyes, and he felt the wind get knocked out of him from the look in your eyes. The fact he never realized you loved him back before was shocking because he could see it written all over your face.
“Okay” you muttered and before you could even react he tugged your lips against his. Arms gripping you for dear life and your eyes were wide as you realized what he had done. He had kissed you and you had never even expected it. Then you realized how soft his lips were, how he tasted like cherries, and his warm mouth soothed every ache in your heart. Your hands gripped his shirt as you settled into the kiss, relaxation taking over you, eyes fluttering shut as he moved to wrap his arms around you. If you had known yelling at Lola would make Steve Harrington kiss you like this you would’ve done it a lot sooner. You weren’t even fully sure you were supporting yourself anymore, knees weak from the fire he has ignited in your stomach.
“Holy shit” Steve panted as he pulled away, a dopey smile on his face, because he had never felt like that from kissing a girl before.
“I know” you panted right along side him and he let out a giddy chuckle, moving to pull you back into his arms.
“I may not deserve you but after that I’m not going down without a fight”
2K notes · View notes
moneymartin · 13 days
Note
OKOK SO I JUST SAW THE NOTIF!!
so hear me out…maybe reader is like a fam friend of Kate’s. They were best friends and played together all the time. They went to Iowa together, and are roommates. Reader plays volleyball, soccer, softball, wtv you want. And like a slow burn friends to lovers!!?? (i’m a whore for friends to lovers) i’m talking mutual pining, years of attraction and feelings…literally brewing for 22 years (kate’s going to be 24 soon, so like they’re moms were bestfriends so Kate and readers friendship started when they were like 2?)
PLSPLSPLSPLS IF U CAN!?😋
・❥・- no hard feelings.
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summary: basically the req lol. r plays soccer at uoi and kate is a nervous wreck 😭
warnings: none rlly… just the use of y/n if that even counts as one??? 💀
rpf!!! don’t read it if ur uncomfortable 😣
wc: 2.25k
a/n: not my usual stuff, i know. i’ve just been itching to write something about kate :( plz don’t unfollow me guys and don’t leave me mooties </3 🤧 i swear i’m going back on my yjs grind once school ends. every divider is a timeskip btw cuz this is lowk long and im layz asfk… also kind of messy i’m so sorry
NOT PROOFREAD!!!!
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22 years. you and kate have been friends for 22 fucking years, and she hasn’t picked up yet. your very obvious feelings for her are starting to fade the more she’s been avoiding them. it sucks so fucking much.
these stupid feelings started when both of you ended up at the same university and the same dorm. you never saw kate in that light. she was your mom’s best friend’s kid, and the rest was history. you played tackle football with her when she had nobody else to play with, practiced basketball with her. you two were practically attached to the hip. the same elementary, middle school, highschool, and the same damn college.
it wasn’t like you could just leave too. the scholarship you were offered for soccer was totally worth the taking, and you couldn’t leave behind the team either. the first few times you gained feelings for kate was when you were in middle school. ‘experimenting’ with your feelings. well, that was your guys’ excuse after you two losers got caught by her mom. after that it was just dating stupid boys to get your head out of it and your head off of kate. thankfully, she was trying to do the same exact solution. you knew a lot about her.
but the one thing you didn’t know was that she felt the exact same. she was just too scared to say it. its not like she wants to lose a 22 year friendship over her uncontrollable feelings. first thing she did was go to caitlin, and she was practically freaking the hell out over it. cait was definitely the anchor between the both of you. helping you with accidental arguments so you didn’t lose kate, helping you out with what to say when she was upset. it was good having someone like that, but it was so incredibly stressful having to consistently ask for some sort of advice.
eventually you were tired of it. tired of waiting for something to happen. waiting for a move to be made by kate or maybe just a few little hints that kept you going. although you couldn’t anymore. it was draining, like someone who didn’t realize what you felt about them. you told caitlin everything after that reality set in for you. it was the blinding of your feelings that let everything slip through your mind and basically fly over your head. how could you be so naive to believe that she did and you were just trying hard for nothing in return. it was dumb, and you knew that much.
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one night after a long day of testing and practice, you stumble your way into your dorm, the door locked and a frown crossing your face. the keys were in your stupid locker. “open the door, please..” you murmur, voice tired and confused. you bring your fist up to the door and knock softly, the sound of the lock clicking and the door creaking open. “jeez. soccer must’ve been a pain in the ass. you look like shit.” kate laughs, grabbing your arm gently to stable your body. letting out a heavy huff of breath, you lean slightly into her and drop your arms to your sides. “tell me about it.” she smiles and hoists you up carefully, locking the door and bringing you to the living room.
the moment your butt hits the couch cushion you let out a soft sigh and look at kate, her big stupid and soft eyes locking onto yours. the corners of your lips curl up slightly and you snicker, raising your eyebrows. “do you really wanna know? cause its a stupid story.” you exaggerate and rub the back of your neck. kate takes the spot next to you and nods continuously, her head leaning onto your shoulder. “trust me, dude. i wanna hear it.”
“kay, well… coach dilanni was being a total douche about what i wanted to practice. i mean, its fucking practice for a reason. i’m supposed to practice what i need to practice! not what he wants me to practice.” your voice gets a little low and you start to slur out your words. the repeated words and slow murmurs make her laugh a little, her arm hooking around your neck and bringing your head towards hers. “and he gave me so much attitude. like, the more i tried to defend myself the more he spoke over me. the old head was thinking about benching me during the champ game!!!” you blurt out and let out a groan.
she starts to realize just how tired you are and pouts, her head moving away, and her hands cupping your face. your head involuntarily moves to stare at hers, your eyes half open, your lips pursed slightly, and your head dropped down a little. “he looks like a nice old guy but deep down that man has some serious problems,” you grumble. “and don’t even get me started on the tests i had to take.” kate’s eyebrows raise and her face stills for a moment when you bury your face deep into her neck. your breath tickles at her skin and she feels shivers running up and down her back. you’re so tired you don’t even realize what you’re doing.
“y/n…” she breathes out heavily and you hear her swallow down whatever she needs to say. your head pulls out and you look at her with big eyes too, just like how she did earlier. water forms in your ducts as you try to fight off the sleepiness, but the way kate is looking at you makes it hard to get off of her. “hm?” you hum and drop your head against her shoulder. “never mind, okay.” her voice drops too and softens a bit, a familiar heat rushing up to your face when she runs her fingers up and down your back.
the warmth of her body and the relief you feel when you hear her voice makes your head spin like crazy. its like she knows what you feel about her and is just doing this to mess with you. the second your eyes shut, kate sucks in a sharp breath in through her teeth and practically manhandles you. gently, of course. but shes picked you up like a damn baby and you don’t have the slightest intention of stopping her from doing it.
your stomach spins and churns awkwardly from the contact. you’ve known kate all your life, but right now it feels like you just saw her on campus for the first time. after you got that news you guys shared a room together. you suddenly get the reminder of your feelings for her, like a shit ton of fireworks igniting in your stomach. more so reigniting. she brushes her fingers up against your face to move a few strands of hair from it.
kate likes you. she really fucking does, and its just the fact that she can’t spit it out no matter how much she wants to. no matter how much she wants to scream it from the rooftop and tell the whole world about how she feels. she thinks you’re the prettiest girl she’s ever seen and she has that gut feeling where she believes that you feel the same way. she isn’t stupid but shes smitten and that’s blinding her as well. just like how it did to you.
“y’know how we’ve been friends for like.. a bajillion years?” she laughs nervously and curls her lips downwards a bit. you know that shes nervous and its starting to make you nervous too. you’re starting to sweat a little underneath your shirt and you can somehow feel it under your skin. “yeah, why?” you ask and open your eyes to look at her face. its all red, her eyes open wide with anxiety, and her mouth slightly parted.
“okay, listen to me and don’t freak out… please.” kate squeaks out and moves her hands away from you. her reactions and jitters cause you to sit up and watch her every move just to make sure she really doesn’t start to freak. theres a feeling in your stomach that can’t really be put into words. it’s that feeling where you wanna throw up because of your nerves and the wanna jump off a bridge before you hear what she says. “i won’t go crazy, you idiot. what’s wrong with you?” you ask with a little chuckle but it quickly fades away when you realize what she’s about to say.
you’re not feeling this because you’re embarrassed of what she’s feeling. you’re just nervous and not used to it. at least thats what you’re telling yourself. there’s a little voice in your head repeatedly telling you to “calm the fuck down!” and it isn’t really helping. your brain is fried from the tiredness you feel too, but this seems really important. “nothing is wrong with me, i just dunno.. need to tell you something before its too late.” she whispers and tilts her head to the side a little, figuring out how she has to say it and if she really should let you know. now that she’s declared that she needs to say this little thing before its ‘too late’ confirms everything you need to know.
“this probably sounds stupid and dumb and i’m going to sound like the biggest loser in the world,” she starts, her voice cracking and her face contorting in different ways you’ve never seen before. in all the years you’ve know kate, shes never been so anxious and nervous about something like this before. its kinda scary. “but i think i’m like.. really in love with you.” she stumbles over her words and buries her face into her hands. it takes you a moment to process what she says as the sleepiness corrupts your mind. “i’m sorry, what?” you mutter.
“i said i like you!!!” kate blurts out and you watch her face turn the reddest you’ve ever seen it. you’ve been with her for almost all of her relationships and this is the first time her face has ever looked like that. her previous partners have never had her like this, they’ve never had her the way you have, and you’re realizing that just now. “oh.” you gulp. the words you’ve been waiting to hear for more than half of your life have finally been said, and it is the greatest relief you’ve ever felt in your life. and everything makes sense now.
the way kate brushes up against you in the halls, the fact she always walks you to your classes no matter how far hers is from it, her taking you to soccer practice, her watching your games like how you watch her, and the fact that you are the reason she blushes like she’s embarrassed herself. although she hasn’t, she’s just so into you, and nothing is gonna change the way she feels. “‘oh?’ is that it?” kate spits out and starts to panic a little. after she’s just admitted, she’s expected something different from you. maybe the same thing? she doesn’t know what she was expecting, it just wasn’t that.
your eyes widen and your face grows redder the longer you stare at her and when your tiny tired peabrain registers that she reciprocates what you feel. “no! that’s not it, stupid, i like you too!” you blurt out as well and push her shoulders. kate has a look of something on her face. you can’t tell what it is but she seems happy about what you said, and that makes your emotions explode. “okay, you know what? i love you, actually! i love you, i love you, i love you!!!!!!!!” you stutter out a bunch of times. years and years of hoping and waiting that she’ll finally do something comes to a stop. “i have my whole damn life.” you murmur, catching your breath slightly from the continuous shouting of your feelings at her. the burning and churning in your stomach goes away and is replaced with a certain sense of relief. a relief that you haven’t felt in ages.
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“oh so, you’re serious, serious?”
“yes, okay. i’m not joking, like i meant everything.”
“say you swear or i won’t believe one word you say.”
“i swear on coach dilanni’s life.” you giggle, fingers threading through kate’s blonde strands. her head is propped up on your chest and her eyes are slightly open. you two have been sitting there for about ten minutes, talking about why or how you even got these stupid little feelings for each other. but none of you are complaining. matter of fact, you’re both on the verge of falling asleep but the presence from each other makes you both wanna stay up all damn night if you could.
“he’s not gonna like that...” she murmurs, voice soft and slurring a bit. kate wraps her arms tight around your waist, her head moving into a more comfortable position. your hands are all over the place and you’re basically just messing up her hair, one of her eyes closing when a few strands get in her face. “you have no idea what you’re doing, huh?” her lips turn into that smile you know all too well now, and her eyes closing completely. a yawn escapes from in between your lips and she hears it, snapping her head upwards, that smile turning into a smirk.
“kiss me.”
and you do.
190 notes · View notes
calmcoldevening · 1 month
Note
Hi, I was wondering if you could do a Micheal Myers X Dr. Loomis’s daughter reader one shot? I thought it’d be an interesting read lol. If you’re not Interested or too busy that’s completely fine! I just haven’t seen any one else do this request. Honestly, I would request more, but I’m always too nervous to talk to people online and in person. Sorry for the unnecessary rambling! Thank you and have a lovely day or night ( depending on what time you see this lol )!
Michael Myers x reader, who is Dr. Loomis's daughter
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The boy with the eyes of the devil. Monster.
You didn’t fully understand what your father was talking about, after all, at that time you were only six years old, but you could say with confidence that this “something” made your father terribly nervous and even frightened him, although he would never admit it.
It was an ordinary early November morning. The weather was cloudy, all the streets were filled with milky fog. The damp air settled unpleasantly in my lungs with each new breath. You sat in the back seat of the car while your father put the key in the ignition. Your small hands nervously fiddled with the edge of your seat belt. Not to say that this was your first trip to your father’s place of work, no. On the contrary, you often went there with him, because sometimes there was no one to leave you with at home, almost all of your dad’s colleagues knew you. And yet today the atmosphere in the car was unpleasantly oppressive and dense, you could literally cut it with a knife. It seemed that your father was weighed down by some thoughts, but you did not dare to ask him about it.
The journey to the psychiatric hospital took quite a long time because your father decided to take a longer but safer route. He didn't want any accident to happen due to such thick fog.
When you arrived at the hospital, it was already around seven in the morning. You approached a tall building, which, despite its appearance and neat paths for walking with patients, inspired subconscious fear in you. Your father gently but firmly took your hand.It was quite dark outside, so when you walked inside, an unpleasant greenish light hit your eyes, creating a strangely tense atmosphere among the white walls of the hospital. Your father immediately went to some office. It was a small office, filled with various folders and documents. In the middle of the room, at a dark table, sat the man with whom your father was now talking. You didn’t pay much attention to their conversation, completely captivated by the small colorful fish in the aquarium. Your children's palms carefully pressed against the slightly cloudy glass, joyfully following with your eyes the colorful fish hiding among the tall corals.
Finally, your father called your name, causing you to reflexively turn your head in his direction. His voice was gentle and calm, but it still contained his characteristic sternness.
 “I need you to stay here for a while, okay? I have work in another office. Will you be a good girl for me?” Loomis asked with a small smile, patting your head. In response, you only nodded briefly.
You were always a smart and understanding child, so Loomis was not afraid to leave you alone. Although he knew that you liked to play by your own rules from time to time, the man really trusted you and your smart mind for a child. After all, you are your father's daughter.
 About fifteen minutes passed before you realized that you were tired of watching the office fish. What's the point of staring at them for a long time if all they do is swim back and forth and back? You definitely should have taken some toys from home. Finally, when boredom took over, you carefully left the office, hoping to find your father and proudly declare that you had nothing to do. Wandering along the corridor, you caught some nurse and asked where your dad was now. This kind soul, of course, didn’t know that she shouldn’t tell you about this, but everyone in this place knew you as a smart and calm child, so she told you the right office without any problems.
It was a particularly remote room at the end of the corridor. The dim green light barely reached here, and there were no windows in this part of the hospital. You quietly opened the right door, wincing slightly at the disgusting creak, and went inside. Inside there was another door with a small window to the right of it. You walked closer to the window, because of your short stature you could barely see what was happening on the other side of the glass. But you perfectly saw your father sitting with his back to you. A strange boy sat next to him. His blond hair was disheveled and looked somewhat dirty, and his empty dark eyes looked simultaneously into nothingness, but at the same time into your very soul. He looked no older than your age, although he was obviously larger than you in size. Your father was telling him something, but the boy did not react to his words at all, he just looked blankly out the window opposite. Did he look at you? Unknown.But it seemed to you that the moment you came into his field of vision, the boy’s head shifted slightly to the side.
This was the first time you saw this boy, a most strange but intriguing meeting. Michael Myers. That’s what your father called him, looking through the child’s personal file in your kitchen at home with a cup of coffee in his hands.
The next time you saw this boy was only about two weeks later. Your father purposefully brought you to Michael's room, hoping that perhaps you, as a child, could establish some kind of contact with this strange boy. Loomis gently squeezed your hand, looking down at you with a smile.
“This is a special boy. You should try playing with him, okay?” You nodded curtly in response. "That’s my girl."
Loomis led you into the same small room, not even suspecting that you had already been here once. Your own cunning caused a small, naive smile to bloom on your face. Loomis led you to Michael sitting on the bed and sat you on the chair next to him.
“I’ll be behind this door if anything happens to you, okay honey?” With these words, Loomis left the room.
You carefully sat down on the chair, folding your hands in your lap. The boy in front of you looked almost like a lifeless doll, so empty was the look in his dark eyes. He looked somewhere ahead and didn't even blink. You smiled slightly, deciding to use all your charm and friendliness.
“My name is Y/N. And what is your name?"
The boy didn't react. But you could have sworn you saw the focus of his eyes shift from the emptiness in front of him to you, seemingly appraising you. A pleasant burning sensation lit up in your heart when you realized that this boy was truly “special”, as your dad told you, and not some emotionless vegetable. It seems like that’s what doctors called such people, no? You weren't sure. But you really wanted to appear grown up and work like your dad in the future, so you wanted to start getting some knowledge about it right now.
“Your name is Michael, right?” you smiled your childish, somewhat toothless smile, “You don’t really like to talk, do you? I think yes. Then do you mind if I do the talking?” There was only silence in response. You giggled, “Silence is a sign of consent! So, I'm six. Probably you too? I haven’t been told much about you, to be honest.”
Now you leaned back in your chair, folding your arms over your chest and pouting your lips in a mock pout.
“This is so awkward. I want to grow up quickly so I won't be treated like a child anymore! Oh, you know, I really like to draw! I don't think you'll tell me what you like, after all, it's just me talking now, but next time let me bring sketchbooks and pencils? I think you'll enjoy drawing too! It's really interesting."
One moment there is darkness, and the next there is this gentle voice and a warm feeling of presence. Other... people radiated only coldness and anger towards him, but this pure soul was strangely kind and welcoming. He had already felt it once, when that unpleasant and stern man was in front of him, but then she was far away. Now she was right in front of him. A girl. She told him her name, and even tried to start some kind of cute, even somewhat stupid, childish conversation with him. There was absolutely no point in talking to this girl, but for some reason her presence was strangely comforting and almost pleasant. It was as if he was little again, at home. But now he knew that he did not have that warm, old home. Not after the voice in his head told him to kill his dirty sister, no. And yet now he wanted the presence of this girl, although he himself did not know why.
You have become a frequent visitor to this psychiatric hospital. You usually visited Michael once or twice a week, and Loomis very soon noticed the results. The boy really opened up to you. Even if it really couldn’t be seen with a simple glance, Samuel, as a psychiatrist, had long noticed the difference: the way Michael’s head tilted when he listened with interest to your stories, or the way he gave you certain unambiguous answers in his own way. It seemed that the two of you had your own language, understandable only to you two. Michael even smiled next to you (although it could hardly be called a smile, but the corners of his lips curled up slightly nervously when he saw you, although it only happened for a split second). For Loomis, this was indeed a definite discovery. The man noticed how the boy sat on his bed for a long time, waiting for you, and seemed to be calculating the time and day. The hospital did not tell him today’s date, because there was no particular need for this, but Michael independently realized that you usually come on Tuesday or Wednesday and always Friday. Surprisingly, his cold heart opened up to you.
At first, this really encouraged Loomis, because perhaps his patient was beginning to recover. But after two or three months he realized that he was mistaken. Michael's personality development only happened in exceptional moments when you were around. The rest of the time, he did not react in any way to the requests or words of the staff and doctors. Michael has become attached to you. No, rather, to some extent he became obsessed with you. Loomis saw that deadly metallic glint in Michael's dark eyes as the man walked back into the room, saying your time is up. Michael’s childish fists almost twitched, as if an obsessive desire to hurt the doctor arose in his mind, if only you would remain nearby.
As the years passed, the doctor realized that getting you into Myers' "treatment" was a bad idea. Now you are ten years old, and Loomis has reduced your meetings to twice a month. He noticed how this affected the boy.
Now Michael absolutely refused to make contact with any of the doctors, spending all his free time in his room, staring blankly at the ceiling. His wall near the bed was covered with your drawings, and on a small table in the corner of the room lay a half-empty pack of pencils and a new album. You brought it during your last visit, saying that you would draw it next time. Five weeks have passed since that time, and Michael still hasn’t dared to touch the ill-fated album. The cover with the cats was already fairly covered with dust, and the pencils were covered in red and black. Michael obediently waited for the next time, knowing that you would not deceive. It is so? You always came back, no matter how badly he behaved with doctors, right? He will wait as long as necessary, like a little faithful puppy.
The guy stopped counting the days, and the world around him turned into endless darkness. All these brainless doctors and orderlies, whose souls are each blacker than the other. Vile, dirty people with no compassion. He missed his little flower. A pure, cheerful creature who brings colors into his life, and with them light. Her soul was the only source of light in this endless dark pit. Why was it taken from him? They took away his source of warmth and light, his little sun. She will be back. She'll definitely be back. She's different. He knows.
---
It was an ordinary cloudy day at the Illinois State Mental Hospital. The sky was covered with a dense layer of gray clouds, threatening to burst into torrential rain, and fog covered everything around. The evening swayed the trees with thin tables with unprecedented force, carrying already fairly yellowed leaves for miles around in a simple dance.
You sighed nervously, looking at the fading nature outside the window. Finally, you turned your head in the direction of your father, who was enthusiastically giving you another lecture of instructions, completely not noticing that you were absolutely not interested in it.
"..dad. I’ve read his personal file three times already, I understand everything, okay?”
The man frowned, but exhaled in defeat, folding his hands behind his back. Even when he relaxed his face, a few wrinkles on his face remained, clearly indicating the man's age and the stress of his job.
“I know, I’m just worried about you.Are you sure you want to practice medicine with this particular patient? You know, there are several dozen more patients in your specialty, and less dangerous ones..."
“Dad,” you interrupt him with a frown, “You and I have already discussed this several times, haven’t we? Don't worry. After all, he is your patient, I know you will intervene if something goes wrong.”
Finally the man gave in. He nodded in agreement and briefly hugged you, patting you on the head like when you were a child. A short “ok” left his lips, and together you headed towards the ill-fated office.
The sound of a door opening. Michael didn't bother to turn his head towards the entering doctor. The guy knew that now again the meaningless dialogues on the part of the doctor and even more meaningless taking of pills would begin. He was healthy, the guy was sure of it. He had long ago become accustomed to the emptiness in his chest that had become painfully familiar to him and the noise of endless thoughts in his mind. And he didn't want to change that. It was as if, over such a long period of time, this state had become like a protective cocoon for him.
The room was filled with an unobtrusive sweetish aroma of some fruity perfume, from which Michael could barely restrain himself from wrinkled his nose. The heavy silence in the room was interrupted only by the steady tapping of women's heels. It had been a long time since he had been visited by a female doctor, something new.
"Hello, Michael."
These few words made the guy's heart clench unpleasantly. He stared in front of him, now fully feeling that long-forgotten feeling of warmth and light presence. That bright figure of white light appeared before my eyes again, like the purest angel on earth. A short sigh escaped from his chest, and his lips almost reflexively bent into a pitiful semblance of a smile. Still, he was really glad to see her. He knew she would return. He knew, even if that pathetic old man and his employees told Michael otherwise. He knew you were different.
"It's been a long time... I'm really sorry."
He remained silent, instead absorbing her every new word like a sponge thrown into the sea. Now he didn't care that she left, because she came back. The guy tried to remember everything: the aroma of her perfume, which now seemed so painfully sweet and pleasant, driving his entire pulsating mind crazy; the sound of her angelic voice is like a gentle cradle, lulling him in her tender embrace. He tried to remember everything. Now her fragile image filled his entire mind. He wanted to touch, touch, feel, show that she was his. Over the many years of being here, he realized that she was his, and he had to prove it to everyone. His light, his delicate flower, his sun.The guy was ready to fulfill all her instructions and requests, if only she would stay with him as long as possible. Stayed forever.
Now the girl came to him every day, and Michael could not imagine anything better. It was as if all his dreams had come true.
She was his personal nurse.
In the mornings she sometimes combed his hair. Usually it stuck out and was very messy and dirty, but now his curly hair looked clean and soft.
She brought him food, and sometimes Michael deliberately chose to pretend to be a brainless vegetable, if only she would feed him herself, gently bringing the spoon to his bitten lips.
Michael could have sworn that there was actually excitement and tenderness in her actions, as if she was worried and genuinely cared about him. And just thinking about it made his soul warm. Now he heard her voice every day, felt her gentle touches, felt her trepidation and care. But this was not enough. He wanted more. Michael felt a strange burning sensation when she talked to other people in the hospital, especially men. He began to feel an unpleasant itch, and images were scrolling through his head of how he could kill this vile guard and then pull her into his protective arms. Michael wanted her hands on his neck or in his hair, and his hands on her soft hips. He wanted her for himself and no one else.
---
That morning you came again to give Michael pills. You were the only one Michael allowed to give him his medicine. He would even drink poison from your hands. The main condition was that there should be no security either inside or outside.
You moved closer, gently lifting Michael's chin with your gentle fingers. He wrapped his arms around your hips, looking up at you, and obediently opened his mouth. You placed the colored tablet on his tongue, to which he quickly swallowed it, without water. The man’s hands gently roamed over your soft flesh, pressing you as close to him as possible. You gently massaged his tangled hair, lightly scratching his itchy skin from constant thoughts.
“Michael..” his name sounds like the sweetest honey on your tongue, the man is ready to listen to this for an eternity, “I’m sorry, but today is the last day of my practice.”
Michael raised his eyebrows slightly, snuggling into your gentle hand.He wanted you to explain what it was about and why you had such a sad expression on your face. The guy wanted answers, but you perfectly remembered your father’s request not to tell him about it. This could cause Michael to become aggressive. Still, you didn’t want to hurt him. So you just briefly hugged him by his strong shoulders and briefly kissed his forehead.
The next day you didn't come.
And every other day too.
Did he do something wrong? The evil doctors did not allow you to come to him again? Michael had many questions, and yet, the answer for him was the arrogant smiling face of Dr. Loomis.
---
It was Halloween evening. You have already distributed all your candy to the children in colorful costumes, who for a good few hours interrupted your peaceful existence with their constant knocking on the door. Now you were sitting relaxed on the sofa in the living room and watching your favorite horror movie, sipping sweet soda with pleasure. And so, at the next moment, when something terrible was about to happen in the film, you heard that ill-fated doorbell again. With an annoyed sigh, you stood up from the couch, setting the soda on the table, and headed towards the door. To your surprise, there was no one on the street. But as soon as you closed the door, a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist. You tried to escape, hitting the stranger in the stomach with your elbows, to which you only received a muffled grunt. A strange metallic smell filled my nose. You turned around, feeling your heart beating wildly in fear in your chest. Your eyes met the emotionless eye-shaped cutouts on the latex mask. Is this some kind of joke? You wanted to scream, but were interrupted by the sharp sensation of someone else's lips on your neck. How did he manage to roll up the edge of his mask so quickly? You bit your lower lip in fear, pulling off the unfortunate mask with one sharp movement. Now a pair of sad dark eyes are staring at you.
“Michael?.. How you.. why are you here?”
The man just muttered something unintelligible, rubbing his nose against the skin of your neck.
Loomis worriedly dialed your phone number, putting the phone to his ear. His most dangerous and unstable patient has escaped. Possible options for his direction were his younger sister Laurie and... you.
“Y/N, baby, are you okay? I'm in the hospital now and Myers has escaped! If he headed towards you and something happened to you, I don’t know what I’ll do...” The doctor muttered nervously, wiping his own forehead, sweaty from stress, with his palm.
“No, it's okay, dad. I didn’t see him,” came the answer from the other side of the line. A steady, quiet snoring could be heard in the background.
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her-favorite · 9 months
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SUGAR DADDY; C. MONAGHAN
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SUGAR DADDY!CAMERON MONAGHAN X F!READER
WARNINGS: SMUT! DADDY KINK!!! (like extremely- obviously.. don’t read if you’re uncomfortable!!), dom!cam/sub!reader, spanking, choking (sexually), he is cockyyyy - i’m so sorry for how rushed the end is, i felt like i needed to end it soon and i wanted to try and get it out as soon as possible - grammar mistakes bc my autocorrect sucks
WORD COUNT: 11,383 - sorry guys, i got carried away
A/N: REQUESTED! obvi this isn’t gonna be how cam acts (given it’s also a fic), but yk..! also to the person that requested this, i really hope you like it and this is what you wanted!! 🖤
some that wanted tagged!: @l3xilove @darkmoviesquotespizza @hughestv 🖤🖤
SUMMARY: Being a broke college student was hard. Hoping that you’ll be able to take the edge off one night, you head to a bar downtown. You meet a man that was willing to help you..
-
You groan and wipe your hands over your face as you stare at your reflection. For the past couple months, you’ve been struggling with money and rent, having to tear apart your dorm to find any loose change or pick up small shifts at any sort of store that was willing to hire. All you wanted was a break, whether it was for a couple weeks or a night.
You walked back towards your bed as you threw yourself on it, staring up at the ceiling. Different ideas combat in your mind, fighting for your motivation or being thrown away in lack of.
You huff as you look over towards your nightstand that was placed next to your bed, staring at your phone resting there. The thought popped in your mind earlier, but you were quick to try and shut it down. It was back now and louder, wanting every single part of you to focus on it. As you slowly gave in, you groaned again and reached for your phone.
It was sometime later than nine, dark enough outside that the lights of the buildings reflected off of windows. You sighed as you looked back at your phone, fighting the urge to get up and run to your small closet. You didn’t.
You shuffled through your clothes, trying to find something appropriate to wear to a bar. Your hand gets caught on a hanger as you pass by all of the options and you pull it out, scanning your eyes over the small dress. You shrug and grab it, knowing that there was nothing else you owned that would fit the setting.
Smoothing out the small wrinkles in the dress with flat hands, you look back up at your reflection, not exactly upset at it. You tweaked your hair and light makeup, not going to look for a hookup, more so a drink to get the edge off.
You grab your phone and wallet and make your way outside. The bar was just down the street from your building and trusting the people in the neighborhood, you walked your whole way down the slightly damp sidewalk. The day before was full of thunderstorms, heavy rain smacking against your thin windows. The road was still wet as cars drove over it, the sound of the tires rolling over the water filling your ears.
Once you made your way inside the bar, your path lead straight to the stool that was in front of the counter. You sighed as you sat down, setting your wallet in front of you, feeling around for just enough money to buy a drink or two. You called down the bartender and ordered, waiting impatiently for it. You spent the entire week debating on this idea, wondering if it was a good waste of your money and time. Too late now, you thought.
“You alright?”
Your head looked to your left at the voice, eyes meeting with dark green ones. He had ginger hair with a strong jawline and perfectly made smile lines around his mouth. He was two seats down from where you sat at the bar, sitting tall with his crossed arms resting on the counter. He sat confident with a certain hint of emotion in his voice that you couldn’t understand yet. Your eyes scanned over his body, before realizing you haven’t answered the handsome man.
“Yeah, why do you ask?” You tried to sound as confident as him, but once the bartender came back with your drink, you immediately took it and drank it. You heard a soft laugh from your side from the same man, a quiet sound of the seat screeching before strong footsteps walked towards you. As you set down your glass, you swallow the sharp liquid, licking over your teeth.
“Your leg.” His voice was louder now that he was sitting next to you. It sounded more manly once he was closer to you, a sort of rasp in his voice that sent chills down your spine. Maybe you wouldn’t mind a hookup.
You gave him a questioning look before looking down at your leg, realizing that it had been bouncing anxiously. You immediately stopped, putting one of your hands on it to stop it from repeating. He laughed again, flagging down the bartender and ordering two shots. You didn’t pay attention to what he was getting, suddenly trying not to feel embarrassed in front of the unknown man.
“I’ll ask again, are you alright?” He looked over at you, his bright hair shining in the bar lights. You snapped out of your quick daze, blinking and nodding.
“Yeah, just.. stressed.” You shrugged, trying to play it off. You’d rather not get into your money issues with a stranger while you’re drinking.
Loud music plays through the vast building, everyone chatting with someone else. You looked around to take in the setting, watching people exchange numbers or tongues, watching people dance or make out and, obviously, drink.
“You’re doing it again.” Your head snaps back to him as he stares at your leg. You sigh as you put your hand over it again, trying to remind yourself to stop. You flinch as you feel a cold hand move over yours, lightly sitting on top of your thigh. He keeps eye contact with you, silently asking if it was okay. You hesitate for a second, before nodding and moving your hand so he can keep his on your skin. He gives you a smile and then looks back as the bartender sets the tiny glasses in front of him. He grabs one with his free hand and looks over at you, nodding his head towards the other. He smirks, knowing you wouldn’t be able to say no. “I didn’t do anything to it, if that’s why you’re hesitant. You saw him pour it.” He states, bringing the cup up to his lips and hiding his soft smile behind it. You try to hide a laugh as you grab it, clinking it with his. You both take it at the same time, setting the shot glasses down on the table in sync. Your nose scrunches as you swallow it, the feeling of it burns sliding down your throat. He laughs at your reaction, seeming to take the drink lightly.
You realized after that your hand went down to his that rested on your thigh and grabbed it, trying to find something to ground you from the strong taste. When you looked back up, he averted his gaze and looked around the bar as if he didn’t notice. You smile to yourself, feeling your face heat up.
“What were you stressed about?” He breaks the silence and looks back at you. You hesitate before replying, knowing it would be easier to get it off your chest than keep it in until you’re done with college.
“Just money problems. I almost never have enough to pay for college and rent and it’s just really stressful.” You ramble, taking your hand away subconsciously and setting your elbows on the bar and putting your face in your hands. You regretted it immediately after you told him, huffing out an annoyed breath. A potential hookup wouldn’t want to hear about your money issues.
“I could help with that.”
Your head snapped up to look at him, analyzing his serious face. No smile, no sign of joking, showing you he was being earnest. You opened your mouth to question him, but he started talking before you could.
“I could help you out with your money issues.. if you help me with something else.”
You keep eye contact with him as you think over your options, subtly squeezing his hand that was still resting on your thigh. A small smirk formed on his face when he realized you were giving in. You swallowed a lump in your throat before nodding, still keeping contact with him. He smirks and grasps your thigh making goosebumps form on your skin.
"I haven't even told you what I had in mind and you're already agreeing." He teases with a cocky attitude. You feel your cheeks heat up in response, looking away from his piercing gaze. Suddenly, you feel two fingers rest under your chin and moves your head up to look at him again. "C'mon, you wanna be a good girl for your daddy, huh?"
A shiver passes through your body as heat travels down your body, going directly to your core. Your eyes widen slightly as his dirty words leave his smirking mouth, goosebumps forming on your skin. Your situation finally settled in as he talked to you, realizing that the man in front of you was now your supply for money... in return of staying with him. Swallowing dryly, you nod your head slowly, your body completely frozen to your seat at the bar. It wasn't like he was unattractive, if anything you were glad he chose you instead of some other bimbo in the club.
"Good." Pale fingers tap your chin gently, before taking his hand away and standing up swiftly. You have to look up at him from your seat, starting to feel intimidated by his height. His lips curl up wider as he watches you and your body language, noticing the way your thighs gravitate towards the other and how vulnerable you looked right now. He already loved the sense of power he held over you. "Let's dance.." He let his sentence trail off as he waits for you to reply. A pale hand reaches out and stays there until you grab it.
"Y/N." You reply, staring at him. You felt stupid, immediately bending to the stranger's will. No one has ever captivated you like he has; his character was confident and smooth, and it captured you so easily.
He smiles down at you, "Let's dance, Y/N." He pulls you up by your joined hands and walks the both of you over towards the floor. The place wasn't crowded, but it wasn't empty either. It was only ever used by casual customers, the people that get home from their jobs at the end of the day and decide that they needed a drink for the fifth time that week. You've been here two or three times before, given the drinks weren't as expensive compared to the other bar a couple minutes away. It was bigger than this one and held more college students, the ones that thought it was better to pay for a drink that was overpriced than sit in a nasty, old bar like this one. You didn't mind it though. Especially not now.
The man pulls you close to him, turning you around and pressing you up against his front quickly. His movements were always calculated and effortless, never seeming to fault or trip in the slightest.
His hands grip your hips as his nails slowly dig into your skin the more you move against him. Grinding your hips back onto his as the music gets louder and fills your ears, gradually taking over your body. A low grunt sounded in your ear, interrupting the song. Your body heats up at the new noise, already feeling greedy for more. You roll your hips back again, trying to hit him perfectly.
“You already want it that bad, doll?” The man whispered in your ear, somehow cutting through the music and sending a chill down your spine. Your hands guide themselves down to rest on his, squeezing them tighter against you making him push you back against him. You gasp as you feel something against your backside, many thoughts clouding your mind but none of them mattered once you realized that he wants it as bad as you do.
You nod your head submissively, leaning back to lie it on his shoulder. Moving your eyes to look up at him, his green ones meet yours as a confident smile takes over his pink lips. He leans down slightly, just barely hovering over your lips.
“Look at what you did to daddy.” A breathy moan escapes your mouth at his words, as he ushers your hand down with his to his crotch. He folds his hand over yours as he makes you touch him, feeling the bulge in his pants. You could only imagine how wet you were right now.
A wide smirk graces his handsome features, never moving his lips an inch away from you. He stood still, both of your bodies lightly moving from the music. Impatiently, you lean up and capture his lips with yours. He groans involuntarily, surprised at your surge of confidence.
Everything hit you once his tongue slid past your lips and into your mouth. You were making out with a stranger in a bar, that had said, just moments before, that he would “help you out” with your money issues. You also realized that you never knew what the handsome gingers name was. Maybe that was his ploy, to only let you refer to him as your daddy and not his true identity. I guess that’s all he was to you now; your daddy. You couldn’t say that you didn’t like it.
Whining as he pulls away from the kiss, the hand the was once placed on yours, travels up and hooks his thumb with your lip and slowly drags it down. Your eyes never leave his cunning ones as his gaze was on your lip. Spit starts to gather in your mouth as he doesn’t let go. Finally, after several more seconds, he lets it fly back up and catch a small drop of saliva before bringing his finger up to his lips and pushing his thumb in his mouth. He moans at the taste and his eyes never look away from yours. His sounds affect your body in a way you didn’t even know possible. He held such strength over you that you weren’t sure you would even make it through the rest of the night before practically throwing yourself at him.
“Why don’t we go back to my place, baby? We can have all the fun we want.” He smirks and the other hand on your hip starts to shift down your stomach. No words seemed to fill your head as you nod with fervor, too entranced with the idea of falling in bed with the ginger. “Good girl. C’mon.” He starts to walk as his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you with him. You immediately let him, quickly falling instep with him on the way out. Before he leaves, he makes his way over to the bar and tips the bartender generously, walking away casually. The worker stood in shock at the money before him, eyes darting between the man walking out of the small building and the green cash in front of him. When you look back at the pale man beside you, there was a faint smirk still on his face as he looked straight ahead.
Stepping out into the cold air made goosebumps form on your exposed arms and legs. He notices quickly, shrugging off his light jacket and wrapping it around your shoulders. Arriving at your destination towards his car, your eyes scan over the expensive model, mouth unknowingly agape. A small chuckle was heard behind you as a finger lifts up under your chin and shuts it gently. “Close your mouth, angel. I’ll use that to my advantage later.” Heat raises to your cheeks fast as his bold words never stop leaving his perfect lips, seeming to tease you on purpose just for your reaction. His hand comes back to your lower back, escorting you to the passenger side of his car. “Get in, babygirl.” His voice was raspy as the night carries out, his dominant tone never failing to send certain jolts of electricity straight to your core. “I’m gonna spoil you rotten.” He whispers in your ear before kissing it and walking around his car to the drivers side.
You stood in shock for a couple seconds, before having to gather yourself and get into his car. You came to the realization that this was definitely not the safest idea, especially around 11 pm. But you were willing to take the risk if you managed to leave with at least a couple more dollars if the night turned out well and not end up dead on the side of the road.
The shutting of his car door cut you out of your paranoia, looking over to him as he clicks the radio on and rests his hands on the steering wheel in front of him. It seemed new, the reflective surface illuminating spots with the bright street lamps; the smooth cover and the perfect sound of his rough hands sliding against the soft texture. His arm moved backwards, resting it against the back of your seat, looking behind him as he pulls his car out of the parking space. Your body grows hotter as you watch him carefully, your thighs feeling tighter against each other without you realizing. He does, though.
A freckled hand reaches out and rests on your thigh, making you freeze. The warmth of his hand spreads through your body, in contrast to the goosebumps that still remained on your skin from the midnight chill outside. He squeezes it as the song on the radio slowly adds more bass and grows louder, matching with the tense atmosphere in the car. His fingers gradually inch up your thigh, towards the end of your dress. He swipes one finger over the edge of it, never once looking over at you. His face was stone cold, putting on his blinker when he needed to, turning when he was supposed to, and stopping at the red lights that reflected off of his face in the dark lighting of the night.
As soon as his fingers brush by your underwear, he stops the car and pulls his hand away. Before you could open your mouth to say anything, he grabs your chin and tilts your head towards him. His face hasn’t changed as he stays neutral and looks straight into your eyes. “You know what you’re getting into, right, doll?” He asks, seriously. The new demeanor intimated you quickly as you nod. “Good.” He gives you a smile. “You’re gonna be so good for your new daddy.”
Chills erupt on your body, as you nod eagerly. He taps your chin lightly with his thumb and then pulls away again, reaching over to open your door for you. He stays silent as he unlocks his as well, following his movements as he steps out of his car. Once you tear your gaze away from him, you look ahead of you at his house. You stand in shock as you stare at it, entranced by the beautiful design. It was big with many stories, a mansion even. It was white with certain decorations that made it stand out in the desolate area. You wondered what he did for a living..
“You coming?” Blinking, you look away from his house and watch him walk towards it. He looks back at you with a cocky smirk, before moving his eyes back ahead of him when he was sure you heard him. Quickly, you catch up to him and join his side as he walks up the several steps to his house, if you can even call it that.
He unlocks it and lets you walk in first. Your eyes immediately scan the area that was in your vision, already in shock at the beautiful interior. A laugh sounds behind you as his keys stop jingling and is thrown in a bowl that sat on top of a side table beside the entrance. He comes up behind you, his body just inches away from your back, feeling the tense air between it. “You wanna head to my bedroom or gawk at the house a little more, hm?” He teases you, whispering softly in your ear. It was enough to make your body heat up again, and you nod in response. He hums appreciatively at your answer, taking your hand is his and starting to walk again.
Once you both make your way up some stairs and he finds a certain door, it slides open smoothly and reveals a large bedroom. The walls were darker compared to the rest of the house. A desk sits by a wall, the surface clean, but holding a pencil case and some stray papers. It was sort of bland, but it had enough taste to make you feel comfortable in it. Walking inside, you turn around as he closes the door and takes smooth strides towards you. Hands finding their way to your hips as they pull you closer, pressing your body against his. The sudden movements always surprise you, something that the redhead liked.
He liked having you bend to his will, to have you wrapped around his finger. In the back of his head, he knew that a majority of the agreement to come back to his place was because of the money, but he didn’t focus on it. He liked having you with him, it felt normal, almost.
“You’re gonna be so pretty, lying down on my bed with your legs open wide for me. Can’t wait to finally feel what it’s like to fuck you, having you beg me for more.” He talks, his hand slowly traveling up your body. You hold back a moan from his words, an unexplainable feeling inside your body growing hotter. Curling his hand around your throat, he adds pressure to your neck. Your lips part slightly at the sudden force against you, leaving your mouth open for him. He takes it to his advantage as his other hand moves up towards your face.
His thumb inches forward, into your mouth. His green eyes stare at your lips, waiting for you to close them around his digit. You comply to his silent demand quickly, letting his thumb rest on your tongue. You hollow your cheeks against him as his pupils get larger, the green in his eyes barely noticeable now. He moves his thumb back as far as his finger would go, before taking it out. Spit is left on your lower lip as he rests the pad of his finger on it, eyes never once leaving the sensual scene in front of him. He stepped closer to you, your body just inches away from his. He drags your lip down further and then lets go, watching it snap back up towards you. Without hesitation, he leans forward and takes your mouth in a desperate kiss.
The grip around your throat felt tighter as seconds go by. His tongue meshes with yours as his free hand sets itself on your hip. His tall stature held its own advantage over you, making you feel even more vulnerable in his touch.
He groans as he pulls away, but stays still just inches away from your face. “Get on the bed and spread your pretty legs for daddy. I wanna see how much you need me.” Chills raise on your body at his demanding voice, in contrast to the overwhelming heat that kept your body captive.
You immediately bend to his orders once he lets you go, sitting back on the bed. You prop yourself up on your elbows as you clamp your thighs together, whether it was your reality check coming to you or the fact you were about to open your legs for a stranger. He reaches forward and takes off your heels, setting them down on the floor. He stood by the foot of the bed, staring down at you with violent eyes. They made goosebumps prickle your skin, suddenly wondering what he was going to do with you.
“I thought you wanted to be a good girl for your daddy?” He mocks, a shadow of a smirk curling on one side of his lips. You feel heat starting to form on your face, embarrassment starting to flow through your body. “C’mon, baby. Let me look at ya.” His hands land on your thighs, flinching from the cold of his palms. His smirk widens at your reaction, already loving the responses he’s gotten out of you. And he hasn’t even started yet.
His hands slowly inch towards your inner thighs, grabbing them with strict fingers as he moves them apart. You come to terms that it would be better not to fight it as the cold air brushes under your dress, his strong hands already getting a hold of you. You let him open your legs, keeping strong eye contact the entire time. He licks his lips and looks down once your thighs are spread and moves his smooth hands up your skin. Your dress scrunches up to your hips at the position of your feet on the bed as your knees are bent, giving him the perfect view from above.
“Knew you’d look so pretty like this..” His voice grew quieter as he talked, more so to himself. He doesn’t take his eyes away from under your dress, letting the flimsy material fall around your waist. His right hand shifts towards your underwear, slowly teasing the edge of it. He hooks his finger under the crease that rests at the very top of your thigh and pulls it as far as it can go before letting it snap back down on your skin. He smiles at the action, moving his fingers over the front of the fabric, watching you grow more impatient than you were seconds before.
“Daddy..” Before you realized it, the word slips out of your mouth as you whine. Closing your eyes as your body heats up, you feel embarrassed letting the other man take complete control of you.
“Finally.” He smiles, showing his sharp teeth. His fingers suddenly press down on your clit over your underwear, making you gasp and your eyes fly open. “Been waiting for you to talk to me.” He speaks, watching the way his fingers slowly make their way down your underwear and starting to hook over the edge. “As much as I love watching those sweet eyes of yours look up at me, doll.. I like it better when you talk to daddy.”
Your hand flies over your mouth in surprise as he quickly gathers your wetness and moves his finger inside you. The fast movement shocked your body as you lie still, clenching around his one digit.
He shakes his head in a disapproving manner, “Take your hand away. I wanna hear you beg for more.” Sliding in another finger, he moves them faster inside you, hitting the perfect spot each time. You put your hand back down on the bed per his request, gripping the satin sheets in your clenched fist. The sound of his fingers going in and out of you filled the silent room, only managing to turn you on more. Once his thumb hits your clit and rubs circles on it, you were done for. “You gonna cum, baby?” He looks up at you on the bed and watches the way your expressions change. Nodding as your reply, your eyes flutter open and shut quickly. “Look at me when you come.”
It was as if it were on demand, your eyes connect with his as your body lets go and follows his orders. As your thighs stop shaking, you close your eyes for a couple seconds. Once you open them, you’re met with the sight of the ginger taking his fingers away from you and bringing them up to his mouth. Pushing the pale digits past his pink lips, he groans as he tastes you.
“Fuck, you taste so good.” His hands land back on your thighs as he starts to move onto the bed and lean over you. “Knew I couldn’t leave my girl without finishing first, right?” He teases with a smile, whispering hotly in your ear. “We’re just getting started.”
As the last syllable leaves his tongue, his hand curves under your body and reaches for the zipper on the back of your dress. You arch your back in response, giving him easy access to undo it. He pulls it down your body, leaving you in just a bra and underwear. He rested on his knees on the end of the bed, still in his clothes. He had a soft button up on, a black, silky one. Two buttons were undone at the top, teasing the faint orange curls that lie underneath. His pants match; black dress pants that show off his long legs. An expensive watch sat on his wrist, something you hadn’t noticed before. His freckles are more visible up close, almost making him seem younger. Not that you knew his age to begin with. His freckles spread everywhere on his body, to his arms, to his hands; down to his chest and legs.
As you come back to reality, you watch his fingers come up to his shirt and slowly start undoing the buttons. Without thinking, you lean up and reach for them, ultimately moving his hands out of the way. He smirk never wavers as he watches you unbutton them, occasionally looking up at the taller man. Once you undo the last one, his shirt falls open and reveals a tone chest. His abs and pecs were defined as his v-line teases you, leading into the waistline of his pants. As you look down farther, you see a noticeable bulge in the fabric. As you go to reach your hand forward, he wraps his hand around your wrist forcefully.
“Did I say you could touch me?” His voice was strict, making you want to melt right into the floor. You look up at him and shake your head, too nervous to reply verbally. “Say it.”
“No, daddy.” It came out quiet, showing how you felt. His face didn’t change as he listened to you, letting go of your arm and grabbing your chin. He stares down at you with malice, his eyes filled with venom.
"Then why did you think you could touch daddy? I didn't give you permission, did I, Y/N?" He kept talking, his tone getting more and more disappointed. You shake your head as much as you were able to with his strong grip on your chin. "I want you to speak when I'm talking to you."
"No, daddy, you didn't give me permission. I'm sorry." You reply quickly, not willingly to see what he would do if you didn't. You felt pathetic bending over backwards for the man, but he somehow managed to wrap you tight around his finger in the short amount of time you've known him. If you could even say you knew him.
“Better.” He tapped your chin with his thumb before taking his hand away and pulling the bottom of his tucked in shirt out of his pants. He lets the soft fabric slide off his arms and onto the floor underneath him. As your eyes search over his upper body, they spot a small tattoo on his left bicep. It was a crescent moon, black ink filling in the drawing.
Your eyes look back at his, silently asking to touch him. He gives you a questioning look, furrowing his eyebrows for show. He knew what you wanted.
“Can I touch you, daddy?” Your hands itch to move forwards, begging you to move further. A smile graces his features, as one of his hands brushes through your hair gently.
“Of course, doll.” It was polite, the way he said it. It brought back your confidence as you reach your hands forward and press your palms on his toned abs. One stays there, occasionally inching up, as the other drifts down. His eyes never leave yours as you hand gets lower and lower, until you finally cup his crotch. His jaw tightens, showing the indent for a second before disappearing. Your other hand moves down as well, starting to work on his belt. Having to tear apart your eye contact with him, you look at his belt to try and undo it.
Once he notices your struggle, he chuckles and takes his free hand and undoes it quickly. He must have had practice. He brings it through the belt loops and lets it fall to the floor. It pained you to watch as you realized, up close, that it was an extremely expensive brand. His eyes analyze you closely, taking note of the glance towards his belt and then the way your eyes move back towards his pants.
“I’m rich, doll. I can buy that belt every day for a month and I’d still have enough to spoil you. Don’t get upset, daddy’ll make sure you get what you want.” His hand in your hair makes its way to the back of your head and rests there, pulling lightly at the end of his sentence. A moan escapes your lips at the sudden pressure, making him smirk.
His words made a shiver pass down your body, still trying to come to terms with the fact that you had a sugar daddy. His height was already intimidating, even more so as you sat by the end of the bed while he stood in front of you. His ginger hair stood out in the bland room, as well as his pale skin, in contrast with the small decorations and paintings that were spread across the long walls behind him.
You nod your head obediently, keeping eye contact with him as your hands move up and tease around his waistline. Your fingers slip under the top of his pants, hooking them inside and then pulling them out, letting it slap back against his waist once they fell from your fingers, copying his action from earlier. His face seems irritated as you tease him, growing more impatient by the second.
“Are you gonna be a good girl and suck daddy’s cock or you gonna sit there and be a fucking tease.” He says, his voice booming with demands. It seemed to be more of a statement than a question, sort of ordering you to do it and to not be tease.
His vulgar words sent a shiver through your body and straight to your core. His hand tugs on the back of your hair, your mouth opening slightly.
“I said I was gonna use that to my advantage, didn’t I, Y/N?” His stone cold face never falters, staring down at you with silent orders. You understand them and start to pull down his pants, leaving him in his matching black boxers. You can see the outline through the thin fabric, making you hesitant for a moment. He notices it and a smirk breaks through his serious facade. “What, don’t think you can take it? Why don’t you try, doll.” He says cockily, looking down at you with a smug expression.
You move forward and press teasing kisses along him, watching his jaw clench again. A small smile curves at your lips from his reaction, reaching your hands forward to rest on his thighs. Licking a small stripe in the same direction, blending in with the small wet patch that was already formed on the fabric from him.
“Fuck.” He pulls your hair tightly and tugs his boxers down, surprising you with his quick action. “Decided to be a fucking tease; didn’t your parents ever tell you that it wasn’t nice to keep people waiting?” His voice was deeper now, showing his desperation. He tugs your hair harder, opening your mouth wider. “Well, now your daddy will teach you what the consequences are.”
His hips move forwards and takes your open mouth to his disposal. You gag when he hits the back of your throat, digging your nails into his pale thighs violently. He moans, staying still and keeping his hand in your hair. His head leans back and his eyes close, taking in the first feeling of your mouth around him. When he feels a vibration against him, he groans and looks down at you. You wanted him to move, the uncomfortable position of him so far back in your throat starting to hurt you. He chuckles at your look of pain, but gives in and slowly moves his hips back. Taking in a deep breath through your nose, you gather yourself before moving against him.
His hand never leaves the back of your head, keeping a steady grip on your hair. He keeps his eyes on you as you try and take all of him, looking up at him and making heated eye contact. Your hand reaches up and wraps around what you couldn’t fit and strokes. His noises get louder, not caring about the amount of volume he has. His confidence made you move faster, wanting to try and break him.. not that you ever could.
“Fuck, you take me so well. You’re doing so good, baby.” His voice was raspy as he breathes heavily. The view you had was breathtaking, the way his abs clenched in front of your eyes, his arm muscles tightening whenever he’d pull your hair and the way his adams apple would bob when his eyes shut tight in pleasure and his mouth would open.
As you hollow your cheeks against him, a guttural moan escapes his mouth, sending your body ablaze. Muttering intelligible words under his breath, he looks back down at you watching every move you made. When he starts to breathe faster and pull your hair more, it shows you that he was getting close to his peak. Your free hand travels up to his v-line and traced your finger down it, adding a drag of your nail to his skin. The sudden sting against him makes him groan and start to move his hips. Suppressing your gag reflex, you let him thrust roughly, most likely bruising the back of your throat harshly. He holds you still with an aggressive grip to your hair, throat fucking you as fast and hard as he wanted.
Once your jaw starts to get tired, you feel his hips stutter and his lips part, letting out heavy breaths and a loud groan as he finishes. He freezes once he’s done and catches his breath before moving back slowly. When he pulls out, his hand lets go of your hair and cups under your jaw closing your mouth and making you swallow.
“You did so good for me, baby.” His eyes scan over your face, watching the tears that were in your eyes slowly fade away. “Lay back down, let daddy take care of you.” He slides his thumb along your jaw, helping you soothe the muscle.
You follow his directions, lying back on the bed once he lets you go. You’re still in your undergarments in contrast to the other man that was fully nude. He moves over you, his face hovering over yours. His freckles were more pronounced now, trailing a map around his face.
Your hand reaches up to cup the side of his face, slowly moving into his hair. The orange strands were soft, knots nonexistent as your fingers traveled through it. He leans down and captures your lips, bringing you into a slow but passionate kiss. One of his forearms holds him up by the side of your head while his right hand travels down your body, hooking his finger in your underwear. He pulls it down your legs, never breaking away from the heated kiss. Once he throws the fabric somewhere neither of you cared for, he breaks away but stays just inches away from your lips.
The same hand reaches under your back and undoes your bra, having to arch off of the bed for him to do so. You take your hand away from him and let the garment fall off of your arms and repeat the same action as him and throwing it somewhere in the spacious room.
He leans back down and kiss you, immediately slipping his tongue into your mouth. As you two make out, his hand surprises you when it travels up your body and grips your breast in his palm. A moan interrupts the kiss as he smiles at your reaction. He pulls away and starts teasing your neck with kisses. He sucks down on a certain spot, your breath hitching in your throat. He notices and smiles, sucking in a deep mark.
His hand reaches down and takes your thigh and wraps your leg around his waist. He feel him against you already, surprised at his stamina.
“How bad do you want it, Y/N?” He whispers hotly into your ear. He knew just how to make you shiver.
“So bad, daddy.” Your hand comes back up to his hair again, settling into his vibrant locks. You knew he loved the name, a flash of something going through his eyes every time you said it.
“C’mon, you can do better than that.” He stares down at you, never once losing his dominant position. Your breathing picks up as you listen to him, getting more and more desperate as more time passes.
“Please, daddy. I need it; I need you. I need to feel you inside me, please.” The begging comes out of your mouth on instinct, too far into his little game to back out now. He wastes no time as soon as he hears those words, moving inside you with a thrust of his hips. You cry out, feeling the pain first. Your hand tugs harshly on his hair, making him groan in response. He lets you adjust for a couple seconds, before moving inside you quickly. Pain slowly turns into pleasure as he never relents, letting you feel him deep inside.
Both of you breathe heavily, his expensive headboard hitting back against the wall painfully. It’s definitely going to leave a mark on the wall, not that he cared.
The hand that was on your thigh travels up your body and presses down on your lower stomach. “You feel that?” His tone is breathy, but it’s stable enough to leave goosebumps on your skin. He takes your free hand and moves it to where his once was and puts pressure down. “That’s me, baby. Filling you so good, fucking you so deep.”
Moans leave your lips as his words get dirtier, not being able to keep them in. “Let me here ya. I wanna hear how good I’m fucking you.” Louder moans leave your throat, per his command. His hand flies back down to your thigh, grabbing his tightly and digging his short nails into your skin.
“You close, Y/N? I can feel you squeezing me so tight- fuck.” A groan leaves him as he talks, feeling a knot tightening inside him. You nod eagerly, too focused on the way you were feeling than letting words form in your mind. “C’mon, doll. You can come, baby, it’s okay.” His permission was all you needed as your body shook lightly and you reach your peak. Back arching as you finish, you feel him still and hold you tightly as he follows quickly behind you.
Your body feels tired as you calm down, taking your hand away and letting go of the tight grip you had on his hair. He takes a second before pulling out and laying down beside you. You look up at the ceiling as you try to catch your breathing. His hand falls down on his chest as he looks over at you. Once his body relaxes, he moves up and sets his arm down to rest his temple on his hand. He’s positioned on his side to look at you. The muscles in his arms are more visible, quickly catching your eye.
His free hand reaches out to move a stray strand of hair that fell in your face when you looked over at him. “How much do you want tonight, doll?” His voice is soft, almost blending in with the comforting silence that filled the vast room.
Realization hits you like a brick, remembering why you were here in the first place. His hand slowly shifts down to your neck, resting gently on your throat. “Um.. well,” Your mind goes blank, in disbelief that he was true to his word. He laughs gently, before getting up from the bed and putting on his boxers. He walks over to the desk that you saw when you first walked in and opened a drawer, picking out a wallet that was inside. It wasn’t the same kind that he used when you both were at the bar; a different texture and color, and it obviously wasn’t in his pants.
You sit up immediately once you see stacks of bills inside, bringing your knees up to rest your feet on the soft bed. He picks some out, closes the wallet and stuffs it back inside the drawer. Walking back over to you with the green papers in his hands, he stands in front of the bed with a smile on his face.
“How ‘bout this for now?” He spreads them out in his fingers, showing you the several $100 bills. You sit in shock for a moment, before moving over to the end of the bed and reaching out for them. Before you could grab them, he pulls his hand away. “What do you say?”
Your body heats up in embarrassment at his words. “Thank you, daddy.” He smiles and hands them over to you.
“Good girl.” He leans down and kisses your head and then moves around the bed to lie back down.
Your fingers glide over the soft material, trying to decipher if it was real or not. You hear a chuckle from behind you, catching your attention. You look back as your eyes travel over his long body. His arms are stretched above his head as his hands are resting behind it, his muscles on full display. His abs were shown as he stretches out and his long legs traveled down the bed. His black boxers were dark in comparison to his pale skin, standing out in the bright comforter sitting underneath him.
“They’re real, doll. Do you really think I’d give you fake money when I live in a place like this?” He smiles cockily. You narrow your eyes at him playfully.
“Who knows? Maybe this was all just a ploy to get me in your bed.” You say with a teasing smile and started to crawl over to him. He laughs at your fake accusation, taking one arm from under his head and wrapping it around your shoulder once you lie down next to him. He brings you close to his body, making you rest your head on his chest.
“Maybe I should’ve thought of that before.” He says jokingly, laughing harder at the slap at his chest he earned. “C’mon, go to bed, sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear, sending a chill down your spine. You’re shocked that he’s inviting you to stay with him.
His other hand removes itself from behind his head as well, moving it down your side. He takes your thigh in his grasp before putting it over his waist to rest there. Your eyes relax as time passes, not realizing when you finally shut them.
Guess you’re falling asleep at your new sugar daddy’s house..
-
As soon as your eyes flutter open, you panic.
Looking around quickly, trying to figure out where the long, pale walls came from. You push yourself up with your hands, rubbing your eyes as you try to come back to reality. No one else was in the messy bed with you, the sheets and comforter thrown around and wrinkled. Noticing the money that sat next to you, everything hit you at once.
The man at the bar.
You sit still for a little bit, in shock that you followed a stranger to his car and then let him bring you to his own house. Though you weren’t exactly upset with the night you got out of it..
Looking back over at the money, a small white piece of paper caught your eye. It sat on a black bedside table, letting it stand out. You reach for it, curious to know if it was for you.
Hello, Y/N. I have a feeling you are probably freaked out right now, which is fine. I’m sure you already know how I feel about you, and what my intentions are, as I’m sure that I understand yours as well.
I’ve gone out for a little while, but I should be home some time soon after you read this. Feel free to explore the house, get something to eat, etc. What I have is yours now and you are mine. Be ready for when I get home, doll.
Yours,
Daddy ;)
Your heart beats fast as you finish reading the note. Did you fully understand what you were getting yourself into? You weren’t sure.
You look up from the paper, noticing the curtains covering the windows. When you step off the bed, you’re hit with a gust of wind that made you realize that you weren’t wearing anything. Quickly, you search around to where your clothes might have gotten thrown the night before. Once you find your undergarments, you put them on and stare down at the winkled dress that lie on the floor. You debate on it, before walking over to his closet doors.
They could’ve passed off as large bedroom doors, taking up a vast variety of the wall. You weren’t sure how you missed it last night, but you weren’t surprised from how entranced you were with the man that had took you home.
You hesitate as your hands perch themselves on the door handles, silently wondering to yourself if this was an invasion of privacy. “What I have is yours now,” His letter repeats in your head.
Before delving too deep in your thoughts, you quickly turn the knobs and pull it open. Frozen still, your eyes scan the large room that’s full with different sort of hangers with various types of clothing. Slowly, you take steps inside, almost as if you were trying to be secretive about it. What if he never left? What if he was downstairs right now and waiting for you?
Trying to push the thoughts out of your mind, you walk around a corner to your right. Clothes align the sides of the wall, no empty space in sight. As soon as your eyes land on a dark piece of fabric, you reach for it before it could drowns in the other pool of clothes.
It was a pair of long basketball shorts and, even though it wasn’t your size, you took them quickly so you didn’t have to walk around almost nude. Immediately after, you find another normal shirt, slipping it on fast and then making your way out incase he were to come home and find you in his closet.
Twisting the doorknob on his bedroom door, you peak your head out before opening the door fully. The house was in the same shape as it was last night; no dust, no markings, no piles of clothes. It was cleaned to a T. You wondered if he had a maid.
As you step foot outside the room, you leave his door open just incase you had to make a run for it and grab the money. Before you left the room, you made sure you had your phone with you, hanging in the oversized pocket in his shorts that you were wearing.
The entire house was silent as you walked down the steps, still trying to be as cautious as ever. You still weren’t sure how safe you were, especially that you remembered not seeing any sign of houses or paths outside of the palace last night. Once your foot hits the ground floor, you let go of the railing and keep walking into the main area.
You step through different sorts of doorways, slowly confusing yourself into the mesh of rooms. As soon as you make it to the kitchen, you stand by the counter and lean on it. Making eye contact with the fridge, your feet quickly leads you toward it.
“Feel free to explore the house, get something to eat, etc.” The letter repeats itself again, clouding your brain. Without hesitating now, you grab a carton of milk that was inside and search through each cabinet to find any sort of cereal that hid inside. Taking a bowl that you found from a different one, you pour the cereal inside and mix it with the liquid.
As you eat, the last part of his sentence stood out. “What I have is yours now and you are mine.” Your heart beat starts to pick up as the last three words repeat over and over again in your head. You are his. It was stated almost like you didn’t have a choice. You weren’t a hundred percent sure what else he truly wanted from you. Yeah, you both had a good time last night, but is that what he wanted every time you needed money? You couldn’t say you were exactly opposed to the idea given how attractive the man was, but it still felt weird.
“Be ready for when I get home, doll.” His last sentence that he wrote with a black pen, seeming to be a reoccurrence with that color, was just as odd. Did he want you to dress up for him? What was he expecting when he got home?
Noticing that all of the cereal was gone from the bowl, you take it to the sink and wash it just incase. You really didn’t want to upset him, especially with the fact that he was willing to let you stay at his house and pay you. You also weren’t exactly sure what he was capable of.
Trying to get rid of the anxiety inducing thoughts, you take deep breaths and try to find your way back to the large staircase. Once you follow your footsteps and are met with the tall white stairs, you run up them. Making your way to his door, it was the only one open, giving you a glimpse of what was inside. You walk through the doorway and scan the room. Silently asking yourself what you wanted to do, your feet take you over to your messed up dress and pick it up. Folding it subconsciously, you rest it on the top of the desk near the bed. Going through your options, you pick up the money that he gave to you and put it on top, slowly moving all of your stuff together. Once you stand back in front of the bed, you look over the room to try and find anything else. Before you could finish, you hear a creak by the door.
“Are you leaving already?”
You spin around quickly, heart racing at the sudden voice. The man from the bar stands there, resting up against the door ledge. He has a bag in his hand, failing to hide it behind him. He has a faint smirk on his face as he gets up from his leaning position and slowly walks over to you. As you stand still, almost frozen in position, you wait to see what he says next.
“I told you that I wasn’t gonna be gone for too long in that note.. and i’m sure you read it. I got something for you, baby.” He notices your tense body language, looking up at him with a neutral expression. “You don’t have to be scared, doll. I’m the same man I was last night..” His free hand reaches up and holds your chin gently. He leans down, “And I’m still your daddy.” Goosebumps prickle your skin, whether it was his close proximity or his words that filled your mind.
He laughs softly before pulling away and bringing the bag in front of him. He moves his hand forward a couple inches, signaling for you to take it. “Here, it’s yours.” Reaching forward and taking the bag hoops in your hands, you turn around and put it on the bed to open it. He stands close behind you, surprising you when you feel his hands on your hips. “I see that you got into my closet.” He whispers into your hair, just inches away from your ear. You swallow dryly, nodding. “You look cute.” One of his hands moves up and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. Your body heats up at the action, already going down a deeper spiral than you were last night.
Reaching into the bag, your hand touches a certain fabric and pulls it out. Sitting in your hands is a black, lace lingerie set. It was two pieces, a bra and underwear that garters were attached to. Your body felt like it was on fire as you observed the sheer clothing, not quite noticing his left hand slide up (his) your shirt.
“Why don’t ya put it on, baby?” His voice is raspy in your ear. His words make you give in to the situation, slowly coming to the conclusion that you just wanted to please him. “Daddy wants to see your new set, princess.” His other hand squeezes your thigh, before slapping it. Your breathing picks up as you finally tear your eyes away from the lingerie in your hands and up to him. Your head turns to look at him, noticing a defined glint in his eye. It excited you, giving you more reason to follow his orders.
When you start to move, he takes his hands off of you and watches you walk into the bathroom that was connected to his room. You give him a teasing smile before you close the door, quickly changing out of the big clothes and figuring out how to fit the bra on and click the garters together.
Once you’re finished, you look up at the mirror that was above the sink. The lingerie was tight, showing off every curve and mark on your skin. Before you could dwell on any of it, you reach for the doorknob and turn it. You were anxious for his reaction, not realizing how quickly you fit into the role of being his.
He sat on the edge of the bed, eyes immediately darting to you once he hears the door open. His legs are spread as he rests his elbows on them, until he leans up and brushes his hands up to his thighs when he sees you.
“Fuck, Y/N.” His voice was low, vulnerably showing his need for you. Green eyes rake up and down your body, taking in the sight before him. He sat speechless as he never once took his eyes away from you.
Confidence started to fill you as you walked over to him, standing between his legs and resting your hands on his shoulders. His palms reach out and dig into your hips, almost on instinct. They slowly shift down to your thighs, squeezing the flesh before bringing you closer to him. Your chest stood inches away from his face, both of you at the position where you were taller than him as he sat down. He didn’t want that.
Suddenly, he stands back up and towers over you. Having to look up at him, his hands never leave your body. His green eyes are demanding as he keeps heated eye contact with you. His right hand reaches up and wraps around your throat. You take a sharp breath in, making him smile.
“Get on the bed for me.” He demands, his grip never letting go. Before he could let you go, he leans down closer to you. “On all fours, ass up.” His other hand trails up and squeezes your ass, making you freeze. His stone cold expression is back as he lets go and watches you scramble to get on the bed.
It felt sort of humiliating to have a man like him tell you what to do and for you to follow it so obediently. He doesn’t seem to mind as his eyes never leave your body, inspecting every move you made. He followed behind you once you situated yourself on the bed, resting on your forearms as your knees were doing the same. You feel the empty space behind you being filled as the ginger stood there, his hands reaching out to lay on your thighs. One of his hands travels up and lands on your ass, squeezing it before slapping down harshly. Your body jolts at the sudden action as a moan leaves your now parted lips. You could practically feel the smirk on his face, even with your back turned.
“You like that, baby? You like it when daddy spanks you?” The same hand smacks down harder, forcing your fingers to grip the satin sheets underneath them.
“Yes, daddy.” Your voice was already breathless, just the two slaps already taking the air out of you.
You hear him hum behind you, slowly nodding his head. His other hand moves up and rests on your ass as well, but not making any quick movements against you. The abuse on your skin already made it hot to touch, his slaps having enough force to make you flinch.
His right hand reaches down and slides a finger inside your underwear and through your slit. “Fuck, you really are enjoying this.” It seemed to be more of a mindless statement, more to himself. You feel your face get hot at his words, feeling like you were caught doing something you shouldn’t. “Do you like the pain, Y/N?” You could hear the smirk in his voice as he talks cockily. Without thinking, you nod your head as a response. He takes that as a green light and smacks his hand back down on to you. Moaning louder this time, your back arches against the bed and your mouth opens in silent pleasure.
Your knuckles turn white as you grasp the sheets, feeling like your fingers were about to fall off. His slaps never relaxed as he would alter between spanking you and squeezing the skin to irritate it more.
Once you visibly flinch when his fingers touch your skin after, he notices the way you breathe heavily once he’s done. His smile never fades as he watches you. “You take it so well, doll. I’m so proud of you.” His words only manage to make you more wet than you already were.
A whine escapes your throat as you try and move backwards slightly. He understands the motion and harshly undoes the garters, rolling them down and off your legs. Running his big hands up them once they’re off, goosebumps follow his pale palms. A gasp fills the once silent room after you hear a loud tear behind you.
He just ripped your underwear open.
“Sorry, baby. You know I’ll get ya new ones.” He throws away the broken fabric behind him, his number one priority being you. Leaning down, he pressed teasing kisses to your lower back, occasionally going higher just to make you more desperate. He chuckles against your skin when you push back against him, digging his nails into your thighs. “Patience, sweetheart.” Fuck, you felt like his words could make you come alone.
His fast actions never fail to surprise you, especially when he suddenly licks up your slit. He has an arrogant smile that covered his lips, feeling pride in the fact he makes you feel good. Taking a couple more seconds to taste you, he pulls away once his fingers take over. Going back to kneeling on the bed, he looks down at you while his fingers spread you out. Letting one circle around your clit makes your breath hitch, automatically catching the man’s attention. He presses down harder and motions faster, watching your body move against him. He stops abruptly once he sees you nearing your edge, smiling devilishly when he hears you groan.
“I wanna fuck you, baby; I had to get’cha ready.” His voice cuts through the room, taking up all of the space. His left hand rests on your lower back as he takes his dick in his hand and positions himself directly behind you. “You want it, Y/N? You wanna feel me inside you?”
“Yes, daddy, please.” Your voice was broken as you begged, feeling desperate for any sort of contact with him. There was a faint laugh behind you, but at this point, you didn’t even care enough to feel embarrassed. You wanted him, needed him.
“There’s my good girl.” Thrusting forward quickly, he moves inside you perfectly. Screaming at the sudden movement and the harsh treatment, your eyes shut tight and your mouth stays open. He stays still for a moment, letting you get used to the way he felt. Once he felt it took long enough, he moved back to the point where his tip was just barely inside you before pushing his hips forward and moving completely inside. Your hands gripped the sheets again, only tighter this time.
As he kept moving, the same hand as earlier reached up and spanked you again, in the same spot. Only adding to the immense pleasure, slowly overwhelming your body with different sensations.
Incoherent words escape your mouth as he hits the perfect spot inside you. His abs clench as he thrusts forward, his arm muscles tightening as he holds your hips in a firm grip. His hand moved fast as it smacked back down against you, your back arching in an immediate response.
“You’re doing so good. Can feel you- fuck! Can feel you squeezing me so tight.” His voice is strained as he talks, noticing how much closer you get to releasing each second. His words push you farther as the stiff knot inside your stomach gets more strained. “Don’t you wanna come for your daddy? Wanna make me feel so good..?” His breathing picks up as he rambles, his eyes getting heavier.
The intense sound of skin slapping skin fills the vast room, pervading your ears. You inhale sharply when you feel a hand wrap around the front of your throat and pulling you up to meet his toned front. The new angle hits the both of you right, making you both moan loudly. His hand grips your neck tighter as his heavy breathing and groans fill your ear. Digging your nails into the arm of his other hand that reached over to rub your clit, quickly pushing you closer and closer to your release.
“C’mon, doll. Come for me, come for your daddy.” That was all you needed. You felt like you could see stars as your eyes close, taking in the intense pleasure that invaded your body. Leaning your head back subconsciously, hitting his shoulder.
As he feels you clenching around him tighter, it makes the knot in his stomach come loose. He groans as he calms down, his chest heaving slightly. You both stay in the same position for a moment, before taking a deep breath and letting him pull out.
“You did so good, Y/N. You’re such a good girl for me.” He whispers in your ear and then kisses your head. The sweet attention he gives you makes your face heat up, almost as if you both weren’t having heated sex just seconds before. He lets go of the grip he had on your neck and watched you lean down on the bed. You lie down on the messy blankets, trying to get your breathing right. As you calm down you feel the bed dip beside you and you see the bright orange hair in the corner of your eye.
“You’re gonna be so fuckin’ spoiled.” You look over at him as he stares up at the ceiling. You laugh softly at his words making him look over at you. He smiles and hovers over you. Without thinking, he leans down and presses his lips against yours. He smirks against your now swollen lips, “Round two?”
Today was gonna be a long day..
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ode2rin · 1 year
Text
all of you, all of me intertwined
pairing. itoshi rin x gn!reader
genre. fluff | pro-athlete!rin | established relationship | light angst (it’s light, trust me) | a bit of hurt/comfort
warnings. 1.4k+ wc | characters are aged up ! | heavy in narration | profanity | pet names
note. i laughed a lil bit too much reading abt rin’s morning routine but then became completely sappy at the thought of it changing as he found love ;) | not proofread pls forgive me  | it’s inspired from another ts song i owe her my life i’m sorry 
in which: rin finds solace in the present with you, as the memories of his past mornings gradually fade away
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itoshi rin, a man of routine, is always up before you, like clockwork.
perhaps it's the athlete in him, or perhaps it's because you slumber like a log. regardless, he never moves an inch after waking up. he remains still, holding you so close, taking in the sight of your peaceful form beside him.
gone are the days when he would rush to the window to let in fresh air or head straight to his closet for his yoga routine. gone are the days that he would relive all the rage and hatred that sits freely in his heart. and, gone are the days of being consumed by the darkness that once plagued his mind.
now, his first thoughts are of you. he revels in the warmth of your skin and the gentle rise and fall of your chest, basking in the tranquil moment of your shared existence.
it's moments like these that make rin marvel at the divine forces that must have sent you in his way. because frankly speaking, he believes that he didn’t deserve you at all. not with his snarky and prideful demeanor did he deserve any of the bright smiles you threw at his direction. rin is not a believer in fate, but sometimes he can't help but think that the universe must be conspiring against him. 
after all, how else can he explain the intensity of his love for you? he loves you so much that sometimes it physically hurts.
it physically hurts to be away from you, it aches to not hold you so close, it cuts not to hear your laughter at the end of a tiring practice. and maybe he’s being dramatic, but can you blame him? 
he loves you so damn much that it scares him. rin knows, in his heart, that if he fails to protect the life you share, he'll never be able to recover from it. the universe be damned because there is no way in fucking hell would he be able to wake up and breathe the same way again. he’ll not only revisit rage and sadness but live every single day of his life revisiting moments with you. he'll be haunted not just by anger, but by every memory of you. 
your love scares him to that extent, and yet he chooses to live with this fear rather than live a life that there is no you. a life where he doesn’t wake up beside you sounds so much scarier than being benched at a game, more terrifying than all the horror movies he's seen combined.
this same fear was even louder in the beginning of your relationship. that, he admits. so loud that it spoke to you in the form of harsh words coming from rin’s lips. he threw so many lines of poison made in sadness and insecurity mistakenly draped in anger.  the rin you first met was just twenty-one, young and full of anger. or was it really anger? maybe he thought so. or maybe he couldn't admit that it was betrayal and sadness. maybe he chose anger to mask his sadness, and somewhere in between, he forgot the difference.
at sixteen, rin started living a life grounded with rage and vengeance. stopping at nothing to prove himself better than his brother. at twenty-four, he can't help but wonder how a life driven by hatred and ego brought him to this safe haven, this sanctuary in your loving arms. perhaps it took that much rage to find this serenity.
he wouldn't change a single thing that led him to you, but if there's one regret, it's that he didn't let himself to love you sooner. he wishes he let himself bask in the radiance of your eyes more willingly. 
because the younger rin deserved just as much as what he’s having right now.
as you slept soundly, rin found himself lost in thought, reflecting on the past and the many mistakes he had made. feeling a bit nostalgic, he leaned more into you and held your jaw to trail kisses on your face. as his lips touched your skin, you stirred in your sleep and opened your eyes to see your teal-eyed lover gazing at you dreamily. you couldn't help but tease him at how uncharacteristic he’s looking at you right now.
“is this your new way of waking me up?” you asked, a playful smile on your face. sleep still evident in your hoarse voice.
rin looked a bit shy at being caught, but he replied with a chuckle, “no, of course not.”
you knew he was lying, though. rin was a man of routine, and he always left kisses in your face in the morning, like clockwork. you decided to let him keep his secret, though, and snuggled up closer to him, enjoying the warmth of his embrace.
“why are you still in bed, baby? what happened to yoga and keeping your body healthy and all that?” you asked with a grin, knowing how much rin prided himself on his health and fitness.
“is this your new way of making me leave?” rin countered, mimicking the playful tone you used at him.
you looked up to meet his eyes, “it’s too early to be this sassy, rinnie,” you playfully booped his nose which earned you a scoff from him, “besides, don’t you have practice today? you’ll be late.”
rin didn't say anything in response, but instead, he reached out to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him. you felt his body mold to yours, as he intertwined his legs with yours and draped all of his weight on you. you let out a contented sigh as you leaned back into his embrace.
you could feel rin's warm breath as he hid his face in your neck, and his chest rising and falling with each breath. the softness of his skin against yours, the warmth of his embrace, and the steady beat of his heart were all consuming your senses. 
something is wrong.
rin clinging to you like this no longer surprises you because, much to his chagrin, rin is a closeted clingy lover and enjoys being held. but the tightness of his hold, and the rather slow beat of his heart is telling you that there’s something wrong.
slowly, you placed your hand on the nape of his neck and began to stroke his hair in a soothing motion. you could feel his body relax slightly under your touch, but there was still an underlying sense of unease.
“what’s on your mind, baby?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
rin hesitated for a moment before answering, “i was thinking of skipping practice today.”
“why? are you feeling unwell, rin?”
“no. i just miss you.” he says, his voice becoming softer at the end.
you felt your heart swell with his response. “i’m here, rin,” you reassured him, wanting him to feel the depth of your presence.
“i know,” rin paused, “you’re here.” he continued, sounding more like he was convincing himself rather than responding to you. 
as you looked at rin, you couldn't help but feel that there was something he wasn't telling you. you knew that rin was someone who valued his routine and getting ready for practice, so his behavior was unusual. you wondered if something had happened to shake him out of his usual rhythm. you pushed aside your thoughts, knowing that rin would tell you in his own time.
for now, you just have to hold him through it. “alright, baby. what do you want to do?” you asked.
rin's response was simple. “nothing, just want to be close to you,” he said, his gaze locking with yours.
a smile played on your lips. “not a problem for me,” you replied, pulling him close and cherishing the moment of closeness between the two of you. almost instantly, rin felt his body relax under your touch, as if all his troubles had melted away.
itoshi rin was definitely a man of routine, but forgoing his morning routine he would, if it meant more mornings like this, with his body and soul intertwined with yours.
because with you, gone were the days when he would stare out the window with a haunted look in his eyes, lost in his own thoughts. gone were the days when his mind was consumed by a vortex of rage and sadness. and gone were the days when he spent his mornings shrouded in darkness.
now, rin had found a new routine, one that revolved around you and the love you shared. and as you held him, he knew that this routine would last a lifetime. 
for as long as he could remember, rin felt his mornings become brighter with you by his side, like the first light of day after a long dark night. because with you, everything seems brighter, like daylight.
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another note. this is super self-indulgent btw hehe i was having an awful week and just wrote this on top of the uni work whooping my ass. anw all is good ! i hope u enjoyed it as much as i did love writing this, i actually think i got a lil bit carried away... def not my best but oh well live love laugh rinnie lovers !!
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Text
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The Locket
You and Spencer had been working together forever, had known each-other so long you felt closer to him than your own relatives. You knew you loved him, he knew he loved you; so what was the problem?
The problem was neither of you guys were brave enough to say it out loud, afraid the other might not reciprocate.
Whenever Hotch gave orders you always made sure to pair up with him, whenever the team was laughing he was the first person you would look at. You always had your mind on him. So when Hotch needed you to pick a person to find an old file with you, you jumped at the opportunity to spend time with Spencer alone.
“Hey y/n, so we’re looking for the Booker case?” Spencer said as you were walking down the hall into the filing room.
“Yup, the ‘67 one. That’s if we can find it though.” You laugh wryly and Spencer gives you a tight lipped smile in response.
You walk into the room and he shuts the door behind you, Spencer immediately goes to find the shelves that hold the cases from the 60’s (not sure if that’s how the FBI actually organizes it but just go with it). You just watched as his beautiful hands gloss over the labels, his shiny brown hair falling over his eyes.
“Well I think this is going to be harder than I thought. I can’t find it I…I don’t know where else it would be.” He said.
“We’ll find it, its gotta be somewhere here. Maybe it was labelled wrong?” You got a light “hmph” from Spencer. You continued looking.
It had been almost an hour and a half of looking through old boxes. Files were scattered all over the floor and you were starting to get tired and overwhelmed, you could tell Spencer was getting frustrated.
“This is dumb and I’m getting coffee, want something?” You asked.
“No that’s okay, no one gets my copious amounts of sugar right.” He laughes then rubs his eyes and continues pouring over files.
You kept looking, taking occasional breaks and having deep conversations ranging anywhere from star trek to is-there-a-god?
He loved talking to you
You came back ten minutes later with two cups in your hand, one for you and one for Spencer.
“Here.” You hand it to him. “I made sure to fill the cup with sugar before the coffee, should be enough. I really hope it is because if it isn’t you are insane and need help.” You joke as he takes a sip and laughs.
“Perfect.”
“Good.”
A heavy silence filled the room, not awkward or unwelcome but peaceful; just enjoying each others company.
You continued search for another thirty minutes, and still nothing. You were about to give up and leave when Spencer started to speak.
“I like your locket.”
“Huh-oh! Thanks, sorry. Just a bit zoned out.”
“who’s inside it?”
“sorry?”
“who’s photo is in your locket”
“Oh no one’s yet, I just wear it because I think it looks pretty” You say
Theres a pause as you stand up and scour the last shelf to check.
“Wait I found it! Someone put it in the 90’s shelf with double homicides, idiot.”
You go to open the door and give to Hotch but a voice stopped you dead in your tracks.
“Can you put me in your locket?”
huh?
“Uhm, sure…Can I ask why?”
Another pause. You think you’re not getting an answer so you turn again but Spencer finally continues.
“Because I love you.”
Oh?
“Wait you..sorry? I-I don’t understand I..”
“I love you y/n, I’m just sorry I didn’t say it earlier”
The next thing you know your lips are crashing onto his, his hands trail up to your h/l, h/c hair. Your hands start to explore as you trace the hemline of his shirt, one of his hands lowers to hold your hip. The kiss gets more passionate and you can’t help but feel like you’re dazed, in a REM like phase.
You pull away but he goes right back for another kiss. This one was different, more sincere. No trace of desperation or lust, just love. Pure love and admiration.
You both stop and look at each other.
“Do you know how long i’ve wanted to do that?” Spencer says, a little out of breath.
“Maybe. I’d assume probably the same amount of time I’ve been waiting too.”
You smile and he laughs.
“We should really get these to Hotch.” You say with a deep blush on your face and swollen lips.
“Sure”
You gave the file to Hotch, he gives you his thanks for finally finding the missing papers. Spencer is waiting for you outside his office.
“I know what happened what cut short but, do you maybe want to go for a walk or something after work? I know a really good ice cream place…” He suggests.
“I’d love that. Thank you Spence.”
“Don’t thank me, I’ve always wanted to.”
Always wanted to.
The next day you printed out a photo of you and Spencer and the aforementioned “really good ice cream place”, and put it in your locket.
The End.
Authors Note:
Ok guys first story how do we feel..? i def didn’t proof read this so if it’s ass just know i dont even know what happened either lmao
idrk if i like it or nah but lmk if you have any ideas or requests :)
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yanderenightmare · 10 months
Text
Bakugou Katsuki
WC: 1.6k
SYNOPSIS: ghostface ! Bakugou harassing and kidnapping darling
TW: yandere, prank calling, breaking and entering, threats
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STRANGER
The time was a little after midnight. And you, despite being heavy-eyed and blinking, were still lying stomach-down, sprawled out on the couch.
Some dumb show about some dumb dysfunctional family was playing low on the TV in front of you – not much to your interest, it appeared, or at least not enough to cop your full attention – but enough to act as somewhat pleasing white noise, you didn’t mind letting lull you to sleep.
You were beginning to drool on the pillow your head lay resting on and looked to be struggling between the indecision of getting up to brush your teeth and the more tempting pleasant thought of simply sleeping right there, without the chores of getting ready for bed.
Your arm was mindlessly dangling towards the ground where the remote had slipped to some time ago, along with your phone that suddenly – just when it looked like you were about to fully nod off – started to ring.
Startled, you flinched at the sheer chimes buzzing loud beneath you. Waking by it as though it were the sound of an alarm going off, only it visibly wasn’t yet morning from the looks of the dark outside.
You groaned then, both out of ire and relief – happy it was still nighttime as you were still tired, yet reluctant to have to speak to someone for much of the same reason. 
Hesitating for a small moment, thinking it was just a friend with some silly emergency – you were tempted to ignore it before guilt got in the way – where with a pinch between your brows and a big yawn, you swiped to answer it nonetheless.
Clicking speakerphone, you had your eyes still fully closed while croaking out a groggy and slightly bothered, “Hello?”
You expected to hear drunken cries and the muted thumps of base and beat and club chatter or something like it – all in all, at least a whiney girlish voice belonging to a friend – but none of the sorts was at the other end of the line.
“Hello.” It said, much awake compared to you in a voice dark and raspy – audibly altered by some type of scrambler, yet still clearly male.
Still, you didn’t really have the sensibility to think much of it just yet. 
“Who’s this?” You asked.
“Who’s this?” He asked back, making your brows further scrunch. 
“You’re the one calling?” You replied in askance, dragging your head from the pillow to peek down at the phone on the floor, viewing the caller ID – which gave you next to nothing aside from letting you know that your caller was unknown.
“You tell me your name, and I’ll tell you mine~” He offered then, and your suspicions of it being a prank call only solidified.
And although the corner of your mouth quirked upward by the sentiment, it was unfortunately just a bit late for you to be bothering with. “I’m a little too sleepy to humor pranks right now- I’m sorry. Try again later- bye~” You managed to muster through a yawn, hanging up and thinking that was the end of it.
Only, it didn’t take long for the phone to ring again.
“Why don’t you wanna talk to me?” The same voice asked through the phone.
The thought of simply hanging up again crossed your mind, but at the same time, you didn’t really see the harm in talking with the man. After all, you were awake now anyway – and besides, given he was using a voice-scrambler, it wasn’t so unlikely that it was someone you knew.
And with that, you figured you’d humor them, if only for a little while before brushing your teeth. “Didn’t your mama ever tell you not to talk to strangers?”
“No~” It answered – still in that very altered voice that made it impossible to place.
“Well, my mother taught me better~” You joked with a tiny laugh, thinking the entire thing was kind of exciting now that you were sobering up – your mind slowly waking up and starting to spin. Not knowing exactly who was on the other end – whether it was a coworker or friend, or someone else entirely. You couldn't quite figure out who would bother to do such a thing in the dead of night – to you, of all people.
“Oh, come on~ aren’t you tired of being a goody-two-shoes?” He flirted back, and you giggled a little louder while picking the phone up from the floor.
“Fine then, Mr. Stranger~” You whispered slowly and coyly, rolling over to lay on your back instead before continuing. “What did you wanna talk to me about?” 
A dark chuckle came back through the phone, making your stomach purr in turn before he spoke again. “What are you wearing?”
You paused at that – cheeks heating with teeth sinking deep into your lip. “Hm…” Looking down at your drab pajama, you didn’t exactly feel inclined to be truthful. “Sexy lingerie~” You tried instead, trying to keep from laughing while putting on your best mock-sultry voice.
“I don’t like liars.” The man answered. “I know you’re wearing pajamas.”
You pouted. “Okay, fine- you caught me.” 
“Still sexy, though.” He added, making you giggle again.
“And you’re a little creepy, Mr. Stranger.” You stated with a tease, biting your lip with a smile while looking at the phone for his reply.
Only his answer wasn’t very nice. “You’re the one whoring around with an unknown man on the phone, slut.”
Your eyes widened before abruptly hanging up.
His voice had changed, and immediately the whole conversation didn’t feel very fun anymore. Suddenly mean-spirited, it soured into something that made you feel all in all rather stupid for even amusing in the first place.
But again… it only took a few seconds for the phone to ring a third time. 
“Don’t hang up on me.” The same voice demanded.
And while feeling bored of the game, you sighed with a huff and asked him nonetheless, “What do you want?”
“I told you already, I want to know your name~” He said, his playful tone of voice back again – only this time, you weren’t at all charmed by it anymore.
“Why do you want to know my name?” You bit out sourly. Unsure why you were still on the phone and even more unsure why you even bothered picking up yet again at all.
“Well… ‘cause…” He began slowly with a pause, and your brows only sunk lower with his antics, finding yourself properly pissed until he uttered the next line – only now in a deeply unsettling whisper. “I want to know who I’m looking at.”
You went cold, with a chill running sharply down your spine. 
Sitting up slowly, you held the phone tightly in your grip while looking at all the windows viewing the darkness outside.
“Oh~ you look cute when you’re scared~” He continued, and you jumped to your feet and stomped to the first window, drawing the curtains one after the other one until none remained.
“Quit calling.” You finished, hanging up for what you really wished would be the last time.
Seconds later, the phone rang again despite your wish. Only this time, you let it ring – deliberating whether you ought to call the police or simply ignore it until it stopped. 
You went to check if the outer door was locked before padding back to the couch, listening to the phone finish ringing before beginning anew.
You figured he’d stop after a while, but minutes passed without a break until you finally picked up – not out of fear, but anger.
“I told you not to hang up on me!” He yelled, and you sneered.
“Listen, asshole-”
“No, you listen, you stupid bitch-” He interrupted. “If you hang up on me again, I’ll wring your little neck ‘til your eyes pop-”
You gaped at his threats but weren’t about to let yourself be bullied either. “If you don’t stop calling, the next call will be to the police!”
“Tch-” He scoffed before laughter spilled through the speaker. Louder and louder until it stopped with the next utterance. “Stupid pigs won’t make it in time.”
There was a crash of glass somewhere in the house, and you flinched while withholding a scream. 
Fear hit you like a flash, robbing you of breath before your instinct took you towards the door. 
Rushing, wide-eyed and goosefleshed, you swallowed thickly while trying to think. With your phone gripped tight in one hand, you tried pushing in the numbers to the police – while at the same time struggling with the lock to the door, shaking the knob with no fruition until finally pushing it open.
You cast a glance over your shoulder, viewing the empty house that now suddenly seemed much darker than before – ears going deaf with the rush of blood in your head, pumping thick from the panicked beating of your heart. 
Taking a rushed springy step without yet facing forward, you had your mind set on running to the neighbors, only – instead of bursting out into the open street, you were sent back into the house – stumbling until you hit the floor with a wince. 
Your phone slipped from your hand – not only crashing to the ground as hard as you did but smashing into a broken mess as well – now utterly useless.
A dark-cloaked figure stood at the threshold, taking up the entire frame.
“Silly bitch.” He said nonchalantly, stepping inside – shoulders broad and boots heavy with his face covered by a white mask. Then he laughed, raising a large knife that made you scurry back. “Didn’t your mama ever tell you not to let strangers inside the house?”
tip-jar: Kofi
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burninghalls · 6 months
Text
❝a man's biggest sin is to love❞
summary: sephiroth's sleeping troubles, or maybe he doesn't have any trouble sleeping at all and he just wants to stay awake longer to soothe his troubled mind pairings: sephiroth x reader tw/cw: she/her pronouns (I'm sorry) but still gender-neutral reader, pure fluff, word dumps (im lonely and depressed), self-indulgent, originally made for only me so the "reader" might seem to have a personality of her own, i need to hug sephiroth
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The night is hollow and gloomy, hiding nothing behind its layer of clouds. Fire is the only thing keeping them warm, or perhaps it’s being enveloped by each other’s embrace that does the trick. Either way, nights are best spent unaware, blissfully closing one's eyes. and to sleep until the first sign of morning greets them, mindlessly wandering around the field of dreams to await its arrival. For Sephiroth, however, nights like this are best spent wide awake, aware of everything his mind could grasp.
He’s aware of every fickle of her skin touching his and of any kind of contact with her. He’s aware of how her fingers brushed his hair, pulling back his mane, straightening his unruly curls, and massaging his scalp. He’s aware of the warmth of her breath, the one thing he can only be aware of if she’s close enough to him, like this once, for example. And most of all, he’s aware of the steady beating of her heart, keeping his own calm and serene, slowly lulling him to sleep. Everything is against his wishes to stay awake and enjoy every last second. Despite her being aware and conscious, he still denies the twisted pull of dreams that tries to make him fall deep into their slumber.
“Aren’t you tired?” The sound of her voice caught him by surprise, as this is the first word she has uttered for hours now. “You don’t have to stay awake all night. You have a lot to do tomorrow, don’t you?”
Sephiroth shakes his head slowly, not having enough energy to do anything else. “I’m not tired yet,” he responded firmly. “I’m okay. Don’t worry.”
She sighs, as if his words of assurance aren’t good enough to soothe her troubling mind. Her fingers moved down from his hair to his face, touching the cold, ragged skin of his cheek, pulling him up so their gazes could meet. He’s always awestruck whenever he looks at her—so beautiful, so endearing. His heart rate increases just at the sight of her. “I can always tell when you lie.”
He raises his eyebrows, his own arms tightening around her in a gentle embrace. “How so?”
“Well, you always have this look on your face when you lie.” Her finger touches the space between his eyebrows, smoothing its crease. “See? You frown a bit. It’s noticeable.”
He shakes his head. “Only you notice such a little quirk of mine, my flower. No one else does.” He smiles at her, his warmest smile, one he reserves for her and only her. “Either way, I still want to stay awake. Why don’t you sleep first?”
She clicks her tongue in slight annoyance. Although he knows she’s not actually annoyed by him and the gesture is merely a sign of dislike towards his endearing stubbornness, his heart still jumps at the sound. “I can’t sleep until you do too; you know this.” She flicks his forehead with her fingers, and he hisses in response. ”You always shift under the cover when you’re awake once in a while. I’m a light sleeper, your movements wake me up.”
He chuckles. “Forgive me, my flower.” His hand reaches to hold hers, leaving a kiss on the back of it. He doesn’t let it go, instead placing her opened palm on his cheek, as if the thought of losing her touch terrifies him. His hunger for her is truly despicable and that becomes his biggest sin as a man. “I’ll try to stay quiet for you.”
If Sephiroth’s stubbornness is bad, then hers is much worse. He wonders if it was their similarities that attracted him to her. “You’ll complain to me for your lack of sleep tomorrow, oh I just know of it!” she mutters in a high-pitched voice, something he recognized as a sign of irritation. He sighs at her remarks, burying his head deeper into her chest. “You won’t be focused on your missions tomorrow if you do, then Hojo would blame me for being a distraction for you. He always does, he’s insufferable!”
Sephiroth frowns at the mention of that name. He hates how the name sounds in her voice. Although the way she says it clearly holds a hint of disdain, he still would prefer if she didn’t mention that name at all. “Does he now?” he asks. “What did he say to you then? I was not informed about this.”
Her eyes widen for a fragment of a moment, he knows this as a sign of surprise, his question must’ve rendered her speechless. "I-" She cuts her words immediately, looking away from him. Ah, so she wasn’t supposed to tell him this. Does Hojo put her up to this? “It’s just that… he thinks I’m a bad influence for you since you’ve been too distracted to love me rather than fighting for the war. You know how it is.”
A pang of pain stabs through his chest. How could one ever say something so cruel to her? She was never a distraction; she was far from that. As a matter of fact, her influence has been nothing but the best, filling his otherwise lonely void of life with blooming lilies. He loves her deeply for this, and to hear such words given to her, he just couldn’t accept it.
“That’s not true at all, my flower,” he insists, his gaze sharp on her, yet the edges are soft. “You were never a distraction or a bad influence for me. I appreciate you dearly. You trust me, don’t you? What Hojo said was nothing but blasphemy towards your name.” She paid no heed to his words, not because she lacked care but because she feared he would do something she did not desire. His relationship with his rumored-to-be father has never been good, they’re like water and oil, they can never combine. The space separating them is one full of mistrust and judgment, of painful expectations, and half-ass lies. Sephiroth can never make peace with him even if it was his heart’s desire, for the man is long gone in his deranged journey towards reaching the one thing humanity should not. Hojo is a madman and Sephiroth refused to succumb to such an unspeakable fate. She does not want him to either.
“I’m fine. It does not bother me in the slightest. I know how he is,” she tries to assure him, but even Sephiroth is no fool. He can sense the lies dripping off her rose-tainted lips, yet he keeps them to himself for now. “All I need now is for you to rest. You’ve had a long and tedious day. Without sleep, you’ll only cause more harm to yourself the next morning.” “I don’t need to sleep as much as you do. You should know this by now. My work performance won’t change even if I stay awake all night.” He had done this multiple times. On days when his insomnia would attack him the most, on days where closing his eyes was just a useless attempt to seek solace in his loneliness.
“It’s not healthy for you,” she retorts. Her lips formed a thin line—signs of worry. She’s worried for him. How can somebody be so kind as to worry about his well-being? Sephiroth is not a regular person; that is one thing he has established for himself since he was a child. He has always been different, with the voices in the back of his head screaming the same word over and over again. Sephiroth is not human. Love is only meant for humans; worry and care are only meant for humans; he’s no human; they’re not meant for him. There’s a sense of guilt clouding his mind and stabbing his heart every time she insists that he deserves something greater than what she could offer him. In truth, he thinks he deserves nothing at all. “SOLDIER or not, we all need our sleep. You’ll get more energy by sleeping, as long as the hours are enough for you and not too much. What if you get tired on tomorrow’s mission and an enemy sees it? They can use this as your weakness, you can get hurt easily, you can—" Sephiroth cuts her off with a hum, which causes her annoyance to increase even more. She’s not one to make petty threats to get her wishes, but in terms of him and his unreasonable sleeping schedule, she has no choice but to do so. “If you sleep now, I’ll cook your favorite food tomorrow.”
He shakes his head. “Seriously?” He nuzzles his nose into her chest. “How many times have you done this?”
She huffs. “Too much, I suppose. I need to come up with something new.” She thinks for a few seconds, conjuring up new ideas that might be able to persuade him to agree to her wishes. “How about… if you sleep now, I’ll make sure to wake up early tomorrow to see you off.”
Sephiroth smiles teasingly. “Are you sure you’re capable of doing that? You’re not an early bird, my flower.” Sephiroth’s words crumbled all of her other arguments to back her up. She frowns, knowing that he’s indeed telling the truth. No matter how many times she has tried to wake up earlier in the morning so she can help him before he goes off to do his duties, she has never succeeded so far. Sephiroth would always accidentally wake her up when he kissed her forehead, whispering a few words of goodbye before tucking her back to sleep in the comfort of their shared room, only to awaken a few hours later, her heart clenching in annoyance once she realized that she wasn’t able to see him before he went off for work.
She nods, this time she will succeed. “I’m sure. I can do it this time,” she insists. Sepiroth merely chuckles at this, shaking his head as if the thought of her doing something he deems to be impossible is amusing to him.
“Very well.” If his flower insisted on wanting something, he would do it for her. Sephiroth is a strong man, he’s powerful and scary, yet his only fear is her. The thought of making her worry for him is something he would rather avoid. For her heart is much rather be somewhere better. “Sleep with me, my flower. I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.”
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