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#how do you ask the person you’re already leaning on for help
scoonsalicious · 2 days
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Unwanted: Chapter 22, Untold - Pt. 1
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, alcohol consumption, strippers,
Word Count: 1.5k
Previously On...: Tony expressed his concerns about you going on this mission.
A/N: When Tony Met Pocket!
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Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
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Boston, 2002
The bass inside the club was pounding, reverberating through the air and your skull as you made your way onto the floor. The day had already been unbearably long, and after your shift tonight, you still had a mountain of reading to do for your Introduction to Data Structures and Algorithms class. But, MIT courses didn’t come cheap, even at two classes a semester, and you needed every penny you could make from your shifts at Beantown Burlesque. It would make more sense, financially, to work a club closer to the college, but the idea of running into any of your classmates or, god forbid, your professors, made the extra time and money you spent commuting from Cambridge to inner Boston completely worth it. 
Not that you expected a lot of tips tonight. It would have been better if you’d been scheduled to work the stage before they sent you to the floor; you were always requested for more lap dances after the patrons had seen you work the pole. You’d just have to work your ass off to entice a couple of lonely men into the VIP booth. But that always came with the additional task of fighting off requests for additional “services.” You may have been desperate for cash, but you were quite done with having your body sold for money, thank you.
You made your way over to the bar, hoping to get some intel on tonight’s patrons so you could shoot your best shot. 
“How’s it goin’ tonight, Cherry Pie?” the bartender, Mac, asked, using the pseudonym you’d chosen for your stage name when you started at the club a year ago. 
“No complaints yet, Mac,” you said, gratefully accepting the glass of water he offered you– it was important to stay hydrated, after all, “but then again, the night is very young.”
Mac let out a gruff laugh as he wiped down a glass. “You’re too young to be so cynical, Cherr,” he said.
You shrugged. That was an understatement. “Any good prospects tonight?” you asked, leaning your elbows on the bartop.
Mac nodded his chin toward a group of young men sitting close to the stage. “That group over there’s racked up a pretty big tab so far. Think they’re from the MIT alumni conference.” That piqued your interest. Beantown Burlesque might not be the ideal place to network, but you’d honestly take whatever you could get.
“They seem decent enough?” you asked Mac.
“About as decent as any group of blokes that come here,” he offered. “But they’ve been pretty respectful so far; no one’s tried to put hands anywhere they shouldn’t.”
“Good enough for me,” you told him. With a parting wave, you sauntered over to the group, making sure to put some extra sway in your hips. As you approached, you surveyed the collection of men. They all seemed to be centering their focus on one man in particular– he was dark haired with a goatee and wearing a pair of tinted glasses and looked vaguely familiar, though you couldn’t place where you might have seen him before. You clocked his expensive loafers and custom Armani suit, and the way the others around him laughed a little too loudly at what he was saying. 
That’s the one, you thought to yourself. He had the money. If you were going to make your rent on time this month, he was the one you’d need to impress.
“You boys fancy some company tonight?” you asked once you approached the group. The man with the goatee leaned forward, a sure sign of interest, and looked at you over the lens of his glasses.
“Well, gorgeous,” he said with a smirk, “we're not ones to turn down an offer for good companionship, especially from someone as captivating as you. But let's be real, the question is whether you can keep up with us. Think you're ready for the challenge?”
Oh, this one was cocky. You could work with that. You trailed your fingertips along the tops of his shoulders as you made your way around to the table in front of him. Without breaking eye contact, you picked up the double shot of whiskey sitting there and downed the entire thing in one swig without flinching.
The other men in the group whooped and hollered at your display, but the man with the goatee just studied you with a peculiar look on his face. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asked.
“You can call me Cherry Pie,” you said as you began swaying your hips to the rhythm of the music coming through the speakers. 
“I didn’t ask what they call you here,” he said, leaning back as you put your hands on his shoulder and began swaying in between his legs. “I asked for your name.”
“You haven’t spent nearly enough to earn that, honey,” you said as you gyrated. 
The man laughed at that, then, reaching for his wallet, pulled out a handful of crisp, one hundred dollar bills. He gently tucked them into the waistband of your bottoms. “How’s that?”
You looked at the bills tucked into your underwear. By your guess, there was about eight hundred dollars there. You just might make rent, after all. “It’s a start,” you shrugged, beginning your tried and true lap dance routine.
One of the other men in the group let out a loud laugh. “She’s sure got your number, Stark!”
At the name, your eyes shot to the man with the goatee’s face, and it suddenly clicked for you. “Holy shit,” you breathed. “You’re Tony Stark.”
Stark smiled. “Guilty as charged, sweetheart.”
“Your company’s network security sucks ass,” you told him, the words coming out of your mouth before you could stop them.
He quirked an eyebrow at that. “Excuse me?”
Fuck. “Uh, nothing, sorry. Forget I said anything.” You put a renewed vigor back into your dance.
“Um, no.” Stark said, grasping your wrist firmly enough to encourage you to stop dancing, but gently enough to let you know he posed you no threat. “I want to hear how a stripper knows the faults of my network security.”
You blushed at that. “I, uh, may have broken in the back door and temporarily held your system hostage for ten minutes last May,” you confessed.
“That was you?” Stark exclaimed. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he sounded… impressed. “You paralyzed our entire operation!”
“Yeah… sorry about that.” Well, you could kiss any further tips goodbye, that was for sure.
“Why’d you relinquish control back to us?” he asked. “You could have held it for ransom; we would have paid whatever you asked for.”
Huh. You had never even considered doing that. “Well, um, actually, I did it as part of a final project? For my Engineering Ethics and Professionalism course at MIT?”
Stark cocked his head at you. “With Erickson?” You nodded, and Stark actually laughed. “He still a narcissistic son of a bitch?”
You chuckled and nodded. “Sexist, too. He nearly shat a brick when he had to watch a mere girl bring a Fortune 500 company to its knees.”
Stark laughed, heartily. “I’ll bet he did! What I wouldn’t have given to see his face!”
“I set up a camera to record it,” you told him. “I can make you a copy of the VHS, if you want. I needed to capture the moment for posterity.”
From there, the atmosphere and your position in the group shifted. You were no longer the entertainment. Tony (he insisted you call him that) invited you to join him as his equal, and for the next several hours, he picked your brain, testing your knowledge and asking you questions about yourself, much to the displeasure of the rest of his group. One by one, they departed, until it was just the two of you. You were having the time of your life. You figured you’d never again have the opportunity to sit back and just hang out with such an icon of the tech community, and you were going to make the most of it. Now, here you were playing a game of Never Have I Ever.
“Never have I ever sheared a sheep,” Tony said with a grin.
“Why, Mr. Stark,” you said, bringing your glass to your lips (you failed to mention that, technically, you weren’t legally old enough to drink), “you haven’t truly lived until you’ve shorn the raw wool from an unwilling ewe.”
“You’re shitting me,” Tony said, laughing.
You took the glass from your lips without drinking. “You got me,” you told him. I grew up in Dayton. Not a whole lotta opportunities for sheep shearing there.”
A mischievous glint came into Tony’s eyes. “Your shift’s got to be almost over,” he said. “What do you say, Cherry Pie? Wanna go shear a sheep?”
“(Y/N),” you told him. “My name’s (Y/N), and I would fucking love to.”
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artinvain · 2 days
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sevika’s personal stress reliever 💋fuck this got long and dirty :)
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: sevika is tired. her knuckles are sore — blood crusted and cracked, her muscles are pulled taut and she can’t think straight no matter how many cigs she smokes. when the day is done and sev is on her way home to you, she realises that today the carnivores violence and fear she’d instilled had made her forget that she had reprieve — you. she didn’t question whether or not she deserved it, she knew the answer.
in you’re home, she’s greeted my warmth, your soft hands helping her out of her jacket, kissing her cheek. you’d asked her something about her day. but, all she could focus on was the way your lace night dress exposed your nipples, hugging your breasts and falling soft on your hips. she can feel her muscles relax, blood draining from her head, she’s throbbing for you.
when you turn to ask her something again, you’re met with her hard chest, her strong arms coming to engulf you. she looks… ravenous, her nose scrunched up, eyes hard and demanding and you already know what she wants, so you don’t think twice before leaning up and pressing a kiss to her mouth. sevika I’m moans at the softness of your lips, the taste of your fucking tongue. her warm hand groping your ass, grabbing handfuls and smacking— her bionic hand wrapped gently around your throat.
she doesn’t think about how many people she’s killed with it, because here — it is for your pleasure. she knows you like the feeling of it cold and hard pressing down on the sides of your throat, that dizzy look in your eyes is what makes her grunt, swallowing hard as she kisses over your jaw and whispers,
“go to the couch — get on your fucking knees for me honey,” she watches you scamper to the couch and follows after you, biting her lip at the sight of your ass, the night gown just barely covering you, and she’s salivating.
sevika looks down at you adoringly, how you’re gnawing at your bottom lip impatiently awaiting her instructions, your eyes glazed and your breathing laboured. sev taps her belt and smirks when you jump to unbuckle her and when your pants are down at her ankles you can’t help but sit up on your knees and press your forehead against her belly, nosing at her mound and nearly mouthing her through her boxers. she lets you silently praise her, her shoulders relaxing as you do so.
“boxers down baby,” she commands and you gulp, pulling them down and groaning at how sticky she is. sevika steps one leg out of her pants and underwear, spreading her legs. “c’mere,” she whispers, her hand soft on the back of your neck, guiding your face toward her pussy.
“please,” you whimper, your tongue is begging to taste her, drooling for her and Sevika smiles at your desperation, “no,” she answers softly, teasing and shaking her head. pulling your head back by your hair when you try to lean in too close.
“oh my god, please sevika,” you whine, your hands on her thighs, nails biting marks there as she finally guides your face toward her and she moans when she feels your tongue dart desperately. you lick and suckle at her clit gently, bending your neck so you can lick deep between her lips and really taste her. sevika groans, her deep baritone making your belly tighten. you moan as your tongue circles her clenching, wet cunt.
“fuck okay-“ she groans, her grasp on your hair tightening, “need ta - shit, m’gonna fuck your face okay doll?” she’s not really asking and you’re nodding your head vigorously. “open that pretty mouth for me, let me see your tongue,” she taps your cheek as you open and slips two thick fingers into your mouth. her own mouth gaping at the sight as she presses down on your tongue, her bionic hand holding your head steady in place as her fingers reach in deep enough to make you gag.
sev clenches her jaw at the sight of your drool dripping down the sides of your mouth, pulls your tongue out and guides your head between her legs. she can feel your warm, thick, waiting tongue on her pussy and her hips buck. holding your hair and securing your head she gasps for breath as she fucks herself on your tongue huffing and grunting your name. your nose grazing her clit with every grind, she’s never unstimulated. “fuuck, atta girl — taking me so well,” she groans “so good for me, letting me fuck your face like this,” her hips unrelenting as she fucks you, looking down at your big teary eyes she can’t help but tell you — “look so pretty angel, shit!”
sev steadies herself and pulls your head back, “you’re being so good honey, just suck on my clit yeah? just like that,” she bobs your head on her pussy, your nose grazing her mound and you’re taking deep, grateful whiffs of her scent. the underside of your tongue rolling and sucking her in. “jesus fuck, you’re good at that huh?” she chuckles, moaning when your arms wrap around her thighs fingers scratching and squeezes her thighs, her ass. “god, yes my pretty little slut,” she grunts, honing your head with every word as you moan around her clit, your panties wet and sticking to the insides of your swollen cunt you whine at the torture of not having any friction. and sevika notices how your winding your hips and she chuckles.
“struggling there sweetheart?” she huffs, too drunk on the feeling of snapping her hips against your face and bobbing your head on her to really do anything about it now and she knows you love being teased, edged. you both know she could make you cry cumming by touching in a moment and the buildup made your whole body sizzle.
“fuck honey, christ-“ sev whines “I’m gonna cum, love,” she moans “m’gonna cum and take such good fuckin care of you yeah?” her hips snap a little sloppier, her huffs and whines making your eyes roll back and fuck finally she whimpers, holds you close while you suck on her clit and she cums, lets you lick deeper for more of her taste, lavishing her pussy until she’s too sensitive and pulls her head back. she pulls you up by your hair, “my greedy girl,” and all you can do is fall against her chest.
she lets you lay on her as she sits down on the couch, perched you on her lap as you wrap an arm around her shoulders. “you did so fucking well for me angel,” she sighs, her warm hands rubbing over your thighs, and spreading your legs over hers. she gently squeezes your inner thighs and you’re so fucking wound up that she’s just barely grazing your soaking cunt and your hips are bucking and your whining loudly into her shoulder.
“it’s okay baby, just keep being good for me yeah?” she cooes in your ear and fastens a bionic arm around your waist, holding you to her and letting her fingers feel you through your panties, rubbing your clit softly, “no, no please sev, please,” you whine, “okay baby no teasing,” she acquiesces and gets her hand under you panties, spanking your clit harsh and fast and then while you’re yelling pushing two fingers into your sopping cunt,
“yes baby, god so fucking soft for me,” she inhales through her teeth, twisting and drilling her fingers into you, holding you tight as you flail, one hand in her hair, tugging deliciously. the other holding on to her bionic arm on your waist as her fingers curl into you, “oh my god baby,” you groan, her thumb rubbing your clit.
“I know honey, such a good girl, want you to cum for me,” she moans, “been so good to me honey, you’re fuckin angel”
“sev- ungh, god It’s too, I can’t fuck,”
“yes you can angel,” sev gently removes her fingers and rubs your clit gently, cooing all the time in your ear with each smack how lucky she is to have you, “love you so much baby, just want you feel good yeah? you feel good?” you nod your head vigorously before it falls back against her chest and all you can do is babble and whine on “nuh-uh use your words or I stop,” she says
“yes, yes I feel good vika so so good. pl-please I’m so fucking - oh my god!” sevika moans at the feeling of your warm, wet walls pulling her in, clenching around her, she can hear your moans reaching a fever pitch, feel your walls clenching erratically “that’s it, just like that baby, be good girl and fucking cum for me yeah?”
so you do, your body tremoring hips bucking wilding against her fingers that just sound more ludicrous and crass with your wetness, that’s coming in small streams and spurts, your mouth open in a loud whimpers and whines and groans.
sevika lays you down and surrounds you, her hand brushing the hair out of your face, “you did so well angel, thank you, you’re so good to me.” she kisses your forehead and cheeks and eyelids and chin. “you know that right? that you did well for me?” you start to nod — “words, baby,”
“yeah, yes, I know I’m a good girl,”
“yeah you are angel,”
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
Been thinking about this at work all day
Tags: @archangeldyke-all @sexysapphicshopowner @sevsbaby @iamaboringrattat
Concept inspo: @butch-bf
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odyssean-flower · 2 days
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The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 12 - Summer: Photos
Masterpost
Pairing: Neuvillette x Female Reader Summary: The date has ended successfully, but it also brought about an unexpected turn of events
Warnings: None except for the fact that this story is 50% written based on vibes Note: This chapter isn't beta'd so sorry in advance for any typos or rough edges Note 2: If you want to be on the taglist for this fic, please make a reply to this post, send a message or send a private ask
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Have a pic of Neuvillette enjoying some tea
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“My dear Iudex, are my eyes deceiving me, or is that a smile on your face?”  
Neuvillette raised his gaze from the documents spread out before him. Furina was standing on the other side of his desk. Of course, he had heard her enter his office before she even spoke, but he was so used to her unannounced intrusions these days that he treated it as a part of his daily routine now. I only hope that she makes this quick. I have a rather heavy agenda today, and I would like to return home before dark.  
Furina leaned over his desk, her heterochromatic eyes eagerly scanning the desk for some sort of incriminating evidence to grab onto. Of course, she found none. Neuvillette wasn’t so foolish that he would make such a careless mistake.   
“Hmph, I didn’t know that paperwork could inspire such a joyous expression on one’s face. What a contrast you make with the Gestionnaires outside your door! You really must get out more.”  
“Indeed, I have, thanks to your urging. I believe you’ve already read the note I left you.”  
“Ah, yes, that sorry excuse for a note,” Furina sniffed. “‘Will be away for a day due to personal reasons.’ No mention of where you’re going or who you’ll be with.”  
“I see no reason why I should have included either of those things. I followed all the necessary protocol for requesting leave, as I’m sure you’re aware.”  
“Oh, I am. I’m overjoyed to hear that you’ve been picking up new hobbies lately. It must be the influence of your new wife. If only you’d allow me to meet this remarkable woman so I can thank her.”  
“New hobbies? Whatever do you mean?” Neuvillette ignored that last part.  
“Why, your new hobby of photography, of course!” Furina propped her head on her hands, affecting an air of nonchalance, but her eyes gleamed like a cat that had a tantalizing mouse set in its sights. It was a look that Neuvillette was all too familiar with. “I’ve heard whispers that you’ve sent off a large number of photos to be developed, and that you’ve gone on a recent shopping spree for photo albums. Your day-off seems to have been very fulfilling.”  
“It was, indeed,” Neuvillette nodded. His face gave nothing away. This was also not a surprise and was in fact well within his expectations. He had felt the gazes of Furina’s spies more frequently as of late, but it was not a difficulty for him to evade them. The one who developed the photos for him was a trusted agent of the Marechausee Phantom, and the envelope that contained the finished products (which he had fortunately received well before Furina’s intrusion into his office) hadn’t been tampered with.  
“Oh, I know it was. A boat ride on the sea, huh? How romantic! I didn’t know you had it in you, Neuvillette. All those romance novels I’ve supplied you with seem to have paid off. Oh, if only there had been someone there that day to take a commemorative photo of such an astonishing sight, the Iudex taking a human out on a date!”  
Neuvillette went very still. “Get to the point,” he said, his voice cold.  
Furina’s grin widened. The cat was getting ready to pounce. “It just so happens that a subordinate of mine was out at sea on the very same day that you were out and saw that astonishing sight for himself,” she took out a photo from her pocket and slapped it onto his desk. It was a clear picture of him helping his wife off the boat after they returned to the docks at the Court of Fontaine.   
Neuvillette’s blood ran cold. How could this have happened?  
“Not the most fashionable, is she?” Furina peered at the photo. “I don’t recognize her, so she must not come from a very important family, either. But putting that aside, what a charming couple the two of you make! Honestly, Neuvillette, I do wonder how--”  
"Leave my office. Now.” Neuvillette’s palms slammed against his desk as he rose to his full height, causing Furina to back up a few steps despite herself. He felt an absurd urge to cover the photo with his hands, to protect the image of you from the scrutinizing gaze of an outsider. “You've seen her face now. Be satisfied with that and resign yourself to the fact that you will never meet her.”  
A startled expression appeared on Furina’s face before it was quickly replaced with a smug smile.  
“My, my, Neuvillette,” she purred before plopping herself down on the couch next to his desk and crossing her legs. “I would reconsider, if I were you.”  
"Have I not told you to leave—”  
“Now that I know what your wife looks like, it’ll take very little effort on my part to find out who she is soon enough. My network of informants is extensive, as I know you’re aware. But I’m a magnanimous god, so I shall give you a week to think it over. If you won’t allow me to meet your wife by that time, then I’ll have to take matters into my own hands and find her myself.”  
“You wouldn’t dare. I had expected better of you.”  
“Oh, don’t give me that!” Furina suddenly stood up and marched over to his desk. “You’re the one who won’t agree to a simple meeting! I’d expect you to be more grateful, considering how I’m the one who pushed you to get married! If it weren’t for me, you would never have even thought of approaching this woman, who you clearly care for a great deal, and you’d probably spend the next five hundred years continuing to mope about on your own, never knowing what you could have had!”  
There was a long, tense silence after her rant. “Are you finished here?” Neuvillette said, struggling to suppress the violent tempest of emotions swirling inside his heart.  
“I suppose I am,” Furina stood up. “By the way, Neuvillette, you should be thankful that it was a subordinate of mine who took this photo and gave it directly to me, and not someone from those third-rate tabloids you despise so much. I’d love to see you ignore that scandal away.”  
Neuvillette said nothing, simply glaring at her. His hands were curled into fists at his sides.  
“See you in a week, my dear Iudex. Do pass on my regards to your wife.”  
After saying that, Furina spun around and strode towards the door. It was only after the door closed behind her firmly that Neuvillette leaned back in his chair and let out a long sigh.  
Torrential rain beat against the large window behind him. He wanted to walk into it, to wade into the sea.  
I was too negligent, he cursed himself in his head. I should have been more careful.  
Throughout his long career, he had become adept at evading reporters and paparazzi. And yet, somehow, this happened.   
Anger and fear gripped his heart. He didn’t care what the papers said about him. But the thought of you becoming fodder for them was intolerable.  
The sight of your tear-filled eyes had been like daggers to his heart. He never wanted to see them again.  
He took a sip of water (imported from the frozen rivers of Snezhnaya) to cool his head and gazed at the painting hanging near his desk. By a fortunate twist of fate, you hadn’t signed it. However, its usual calming efficacy was diminished today.  
Neuvillette had wanted to look at the photos again during his break, but now he was too on edge to even think of opening his desk drawer and taking the envelope out. It felt like just the act of it would be exposing its contents to danger, even though he knew that was irrational.   
He could sense the clouds covering the sun outside the window behind him. There would be a downpour on this fine evening, and he silently apologized to the people of Fontaine, and especially to a certain young lady who was doubtless in the garden right about now.  
The sooner I finish my work, the sooner I can return home, he thought, in a vain attempt to calm himself. And give the photos to her. I know she has been waiting for them eagerly. I’m sure she’ll be overjoyed…  
Unconsciously, his feet began tapping against the floor.  
This can still be salvaged, he told himself. Nothing has happened yet. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her peace.  
Switching back into work mode, Neuvillette sat up once more—and let out a pained grunt. His hair had gotten caught in the cracks of his chair.  
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“Where is this rain coming from? It was clear just a few minutes ago,” you grumbled as you stared up at the lead-colored sky. It had been a beautiful day like it had been for weeks, but for some reason, the clouds decided to unleash their water just as you had finished taking the daily sunflower measurements.  
I bet Neuvillette is enjoying this, you thought as you went to stand under the eaves. It hasn’t rained in quite a while.  
“Madame, it’s raining,” Marie opened the porch door. “You didn’t get wet, did you?”  
“Just a little bit, but it’s nothing too bad. Marie, could you fetch me my umbrella?”  
“You’re still planning to garden in this weather, Madame?”  
“I just want to take one last look. I’ll be done soon.”  
After Marie gave you your umbrella, you marched back out to the plot of sunflowers again.  
The sunflowers were coming along nicely. They now reached the height of your hip and formed small, tightly closed buds. There were no yellow petals peeking through yet, but you were confident that they would appear in the coming weeks.  
You brushed your fingers against the leaves. They were the size of your palm now. You could see little bug bites dotting them. Perhaps you should ask Marie if there were any pesticides on hand.  
It was the evening hours now, though the sun had been in the sky until a few moments ago. Neuvillette should be back by now. Maybe he had a lot of work today? You couldn’t help but feel a sting of disappointment. You had been looking forward to showing him the buds.   
It had been a week since the date. Neuvillette had sent the photos out to be developed, and you would be getting them today. You were a bit excited to see them.  I don’t think I’ve ever taken so many pictures in my life.  
After you finished taking the last measurements, you returned to the house and went up to your room. Your eyes automatically went to the plump azure flower tucked into a vase on your desk. It brought a vibrant splash of color to your elegant but sparse room, and you liked looking at it. It gave you a sense of pleasure. You wondered where Neuvillette put his flower.  
I wonder if it will deflate like a balloon if I stuck a pin into the middle, you thought as you sniffed the flower’s cool fragrance. That would make it easier to press, wouldn’t it?  
Perhaps it was because you talked about pressing flowers on the date, but it had been on your mind lately. Your fingers itched for your old flower press, sitting in your closet back home. The lily would look striking against a white page. If only you picked some of those wildflowers you had seen on Erinnyes and in Merusea Village... they could serve as accompaniment to the lily, which would obviously be the centerpiece, and a strand of blue leaves from the Weeping Willow could be the finishing touch, forming a wreath that framed everything neatly. It would be a beautiful memento of one of the most magical days in your life.  
We picnicked together and took pictures of each other, he showed me all sorts of sights…he even held me in his arms…and I cried in front of him… Gah…  
You resisted the urge to bury your face in your hands. The memories of what you said and done still mortified you a week later. It had been even worse when you got home and was left alone in your bedroom. How you got to sleep that night, you didn’t know.   
You would rather take a dive into the sea than cry in front of people, especially someone like Neuvillette. But on the other hand, if you had to cry, you would rather it be in front of him. Not your parents, not even your sister, but him. You weren’t sure why.  
Neuvillette hadn’t said anything comforting or encouraging, and his hug was honestly a bit stiff and awkward, like he wasn’t used to doing such things. And yet, you felt as though the weight on your shoulders had been lightened just a bit. It wasn’t until then that you realized how you were barely holding yourself up by sheer force of will, like a sunflower with shallow roots and a too-heavy head, on the verge of falling over without a support.   
Neuvillette never brought up that moment again, for which you were grateful. Although, even now you still couldn’t really look at him without a tingling sensation in your heart. He, on the other hand, seemed unchanged. Well, of course he would be. It would be problematic if he did start treating me differently, you told yourself.  
You knew very well that you were not the type of person who people like Neuvillette would think of as a romantic partner, much less a wife. But still, after what you had observed of him and what you heard from the Melusines, you thought that it’d be nice if he did have someone like that. After the divorce, Furina would no doubt start pestering him even harder to find a spouse. It would be smart for him to start finding someone soon. He would probably have to wait a bit before remarrying, though.  
Neuvillette should definitely find someone who’s more of a romantic than me, you laughed at yourself.  
Unfortunately, you were out of your depth when it came to matters of matchmaking. But still, maybe you could keep an eye out for a potential partner. What was Neuvillette’s type, anyway? That would make for an interesting topic to investigate.  
You decided to put this thought aside for now. Neuvillette told you that he wanted to take you to a restaurant next time. You had no idea where he would take you. His taste in food was so peculiar, after all. But you were sure that it would be a high-class, excellent restaurant, wherever it was. You would have to get some suitable clothes for the occasion. I want to make a better effort next time.  
Neuvillette had given you a quite frankly exorbitant amount of spending money. Maybe it was finally time to use it.   
Perhaps it’s a bit pointless…but I still want to do it.  
You sat in your window seat, daydreaming about how your second “date” with Neuvillette would go as you gazed at the setting sun, now peeking out of the clouds after the sudden spell of rain had passed.  
Neuvillette finally returned home by the time the sky was dark. You had already eaten dinner without him and were reading in the parlor when you heard the front door open.  
“Neuvillette,” you called out to him as you went into the foyer. “You came home so late. Did something happen?”  
As you approached him, you noticed how tired and tense he looked. But the fatigue in his face seemed to vanish as he fixed his eyes on you, replaced by something that was almost like relief.  
“Madame,” he greeted you. “My apologies for worrying you. I had a rather busy day. I hope you’ve already eaten dinner?”  
“I have. But have you eaten? If not, I can warm up the leftovers for you, or I can ask Marie to cook something fresh if that’s what you prefer.”  
“I’ve already eaten, but thank you for the consideration. Have you gone out today?”  
“No,” you shook your head, and Neuvillette visibly relaxed. You definitely didn’t imagine that.   
But before any suspicions could form, he spoke again.   
“Madame, I have a surprise for you,” he took a pause there. It took you a moment to realize that he was doing it for dramatic effect. So even he has that side to him...how cute , you thought, trying to hide your smile. “ I received the developed photos today.”  
He took out an envelope from his coat pocket and handed it to you. “They turned out quite well, I must say,” he added.  
The envelope was thick and heavy. You must have taken more than a hundred photos.   
You decided to look through them in the parlor. Neuvillette followed you, and the two of you sat side by side on the couch as you spread the photos out on the coffee table. He was right, they did turn out well. You had been a bit worried that they might come out blurry or at odd angles, but overall, they all looked pretty good, considering the fact that you hadn’t used a Kamera in a long time.  
“You have a very good eye for photography, Madame,” Neuvillette remarked as he picked up a photo of the Weeping Willow. “Have you considered pursuing a career in that field?”  
“Oh, not at all. My old drawing teacher was much better at it than me, enough to make a living out of it, and she taught me a few tricks.”  
“‘Was’? Do you mean...” Neuvillette trailed off.   
“Yes. It was a few years ago.”  
“Ah...I see. I'm sorry to hear that.”  
There was a brief, awkward silence. Neuvillette looked as though he wanted to say something more. You would rather not deal with that, so your eyes roamed around the scattered photos on the table until they landed on something silver. “Oh, my pictures of you!” you said, leaning forward to grab them. “See, what did I tell you, Neuvillette. There’s nothing more picturesque than beautiful scenery and a handsome man.”  
Neuvillette leaned closer towards you to examine the photos for himself. His hair brushed against your shoulder, and you could feel the heat of his body against your arm.  A thought suddenly struck you. If you turned your head right now, your lips would brush against his cheek in the same spot where you had kissed it before.  
Inexplicably, your face turned warm at the thought. The back of your hand tingled.  
Perhaps things didn’t quite remain the same after the date.  
It truly had been a spur of the moment move. Your roiling emotions, aided by the instigation of the Melusines, had pushed you to do it.   
Later that night, as you laid in bed, your mind replaying that scene over and over to an infuriating degree, you had rifled through all the emotions you had felt at that time. Embarrassment, disbelief, a strange sort of elation…  
But the one emotion that had been missing no matter how hard you searched for it, was regret.  
Overt acts of affection had never been your forte, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time.  
Well, cheek kisses don’t inherently mean anything significant, you had told yourself. Friends do it with each other all the time. And Neuvillette is my friend. A very dear friend. So it’s perfectly fine. Case closed.  
Indeed, Neuvillette didn’t seem to look at you or treat you any differently after the fact, so why should you? No doubt he was used to receiving such acts of intimacy—most likely even more intimate—from people who were far more glamorous than you. A brief brush of lips against his cheek probably meant nothing to him.   
As for the hand kiss, well, that was something that gentlemen like him did. It also didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t.  
The thought that these kisses were all meaningless did sting a little bit, but considering the circumstances, you had no right to complain.   
“I must confess that I do not see what makes these pictures any better than the ones you took of the scenery,” Neuvillette’s voice interrupted your thoughts. His eyes were fixed on the photo, so thankfully he didn’t notice your reddened cheeks. “Or of the Melusines, for that matter.”  
“Well, even if you don’t appreciate them, I do. I’ll treat them like a family treasure.”  
“A family treasure? That’s a bit excessive, is it not?”  
“I don’t think so. These are pretty rare items, aren’t they?”  
Since Neuvillette didn’t appear in public much, there were not many pictures of him outside of the rare interview and official events. Hmm, I wonder how much they’ll sell for? Not that I would ever do that, of course. …Well, maybe if I’m in dire financial straits. I’ll ask for Neuvillette’s permission beforehand if it ever comes to that.  
You went through the remaining photos. Each one sparked a memory. The Weeping Willow, the sea, Merusea Village underwater—you really had been to all those places. With Neuvillette, no less. The entirety of that day was only known to the two of you.   
The days after your date had been so mundane and normal that you were half-convinced that it had all been a strange dream. Thoughts and memories were such mutable things, after all. Someone like you on a date with the Chief Justice? Not even in your wildest delusions would something like that ever happen. But these pictures were proof that it did.   
You knew that you would probably think back on that day for the rest of your life, holding it close to your chest like a treasured gemstone and taking it out whenever times got tough. A sparkling memory of your youth that you would smile back fondly upon in your autumn years, a lone glimmering star in the dark that would inspire you move forward…  
Wait, why am I getting so sappy and sentimental? Just because of a date? Ugh, come on now.  
You glanced at Neuvillette, who was currently enjoying a glass of water (imported from Inazuma). You doubted that he felt the same way as you about the date. It was probably just like a drop of water in a vast ocean to him.  
That thought pricked at you, but you chose to ignore it.   
You sifted through the pictures until you came across a certain snapshot. Just as you were about to flip it over, a gloved finger pressed down against the photo, stopping you.  
“This one is my favorite,” Neuvillette said. Once again, his face was right next to yours, but you couldn’t read his expression.   
“Because you were the one who took it?”  
“No,” he said, then turned his head towards you. “Because it’s of you.”  
“Neuvillette…” you said after a short silence. You fidgeted with your reddened fingertips. “I don’t understand how you can say things like that with such a straight face.”  
“Is it truly so strange?” Neuvillette looked perplexed. “I was simply saying my true feelings. And it is not as though you have refrained from such comments either.”  
“You do have a point,” you conceded, although that still didn’t mean it didn’t catch you off guard. You turned your attention back to the photo of you. To be honest, it didn’t turn out half bad. Sure, you looked incredibly stiff and awkward and your hair was a mess and you had no idea what you were thinking when you matched that sweater with that skirt, but…it could have turned out worse.   
“May I keep this photo?” Neuvillette asked.  
“Of course, but what will you do with it? Surely you aren’t going to put it on your office desk or anything, right?”  
“No, of course not. I would put it in a drawer, so I may take it out and look at it whenever I like.”  
“Why would you want to do that?”  
“Is it so wrong for a husband to want to look at a picture of his wife every once in a while? Many of the Palais staff also keep pictures of their loved ones on their desks. Why shouldn’t I?” Neuvillette paused for a little bit before adding, “And it would be one way for me to see your face more often, considering how I don’t get many chances of that during the day.”  
“Hmm…very well, then,” you didn’t quite get why he would want to see more of your face, but if it made him happy, then you supposed there was nothing to complain about. Neuvillette is actually quite good at this kind of thing, you thought to yourself. Just imagine what he would be like when he gets married to someone he loves.  
Now you really felt bad about your (hypothetical) future plans about selling Neuvillette’s photos. I’m an insensitive boor compared to him.  
You reached the last of the photos. It was the one of you and Neuvillette standing in front of the sunset.  
“You made two copies for the both of us,” you said as you looked at them. “How thoughtful.”  
As you gazed at the pictures, you couldn’t help but feel a complex mixture of emotions. There was a surrealness to this photo that the others lacked. If this were a novel, this would be the point where you would wake up and return to reality after discovering something out of place in your life. No matter how you looked at it, you and Neuvillette were mismatched. Two people who were only brought together because of a weird quirk of fate.   
But on the other hand…it was a beautiful photo. You had been somewhat worried that the two of you wouldn’t be centered in the frame, but it turned out well. The sunset made for a lovely backdrop. Even though both of you were looking very stiff, and neither of you were smiling.   
You remembered that moment clearly. In those few minutes, you felt as light as a feather, like there was nothing tying you to the ground.  
Would you ever feel that way again?   
“I’m also very fond of this one,” Neuvillette said next to you. When you turned your head, you saw that he was not looking at the photos, but at you. It was then that you realized you were smiling. For some reason, you turned your head away.   
“I just realized something,” you said, to cover up the awkward moment. “I’ve taken so many pictures, but I’ve got nowhere to put them all.”  
“Ah, about that,” there was an excitement, subdued but present, in his voice. He sounded the same as he did when he introduced you to some new exotic variety of water. “I have a surprise for you. Please, come with me to my study.”  
A surprise from Neuvillette? You had an inkling as to what it could be, but that didn’t stop you from putting all the photos back in the envelope and following him upstairs to his study, a domain you had yet to step into. It was a smaller version of his office at the Palais Mermonia, with its large desk, soft rugs, and tall bookshelves that lined the walls. There was also a fireplace here and a cozy-looking couch.  
As Neuvillette went to take something out of a cabinet, you covertly examined the shelves. They were mainly filled with books on law, human psychology, history (most of which you’ve already read, having borrowed them from the library), and other similarly serious topics. Oddly enough, you even spotted a few romance novels. They were the fluffy, self-indulgent kind that your mother and sister liked to read. Should I pretend I never saw them?  
“Madame, here it is,” Neuvillette said, and you walked over to the desk, where there was a large, leather-bound album with metal corners.  
“Oh, Neuvillette, you shouldn’t have!” you exclaimed, flipping through the album. There should be just enough space to put all the pictures from your date in it. You looked up to thank him, but was met with the sight of Neuvillette taking out yet another album from the cabinet. This one was wider, with a ribbon tied into a neat bow on the spine. Perhaps Neuvillette bought a second album, just in case the first one wouldn’t fit all your pictures?  
But, as though to dash all reasonable explanations, Neuvillette took out another album from the cabinet, then another. It seemed never-ending, this deluge of albums. After a while, it became sort of funny, like a comedy sketch. You watched, open-mouthed, as the desk became covered with albums of all shapes and sizes.   
Finally, after the tenth one, the deluge stopped. Neuvillette looked at you expectantly. “Well, Madame, which one do you prefer?”  
“Wait a minute, let me get this right,” you said, backing up a step and surveying the desk. “You bought all these albums just for me to choose one?”  
“Yes, I did,” Neuvillette said, nodding as though this was a perfectly normal thing to do. Was this how the minds of the wealthy worked? It was beyond your comprehension. “I was unsure which one would be most to your liking, so I decided to buy them all.”  
“Oh, Neuvillette, you really shouldn’t have…” you said. “This is too excessive. Why didn’t you ask me to come with you when you went shopping? And you know I’d like anything you picked out for me.”  
“I wanted it to be a surprise…” Neuvillette said. He looked a bit deflated, and you felt bad.   
“Can you return them?”  
“It would be highly inconvenient for the shopkeeper if I did so,” Neuvillette said, then added in an abashed tone, “And I was told that all sales are final.”  
“How unfortunate,” you looked down at the desk again. Was it possible for anyone to fill up all these albums in their lifetime? Maybe if they had a lifespan as long as Neuvillette’s. “Maybe they could make an exception for the Iudex?”  
“I would rather not use my position in such a manner.”  
“Well then, how about we give them away?”  
“Give them away…” Neuvillette considered your words. “I-I suppose that could work… it is a reasonable idea. Yes, quite reasonable indeed.”  
Neuvillette…if only you could see the look on your face right now. He looked like a kicked puppy. However, you decided to hold your tongue.  
“Hmm, on second thought, it would be quite rude of me to give away presents from my generous husband,” you said. “I’ll keep them all. Thank you, Neuvillette.”  
You patted his hand. He looked down at your hand on top of his, his eyes unreadable. He lightly brushed his fingers against your own.   
“You need not force yourself to accept them if you do not want them,” he said quietly.   
“But I do want them. They’re from you, after all. We’ll just have to take plenty more photos to get your money’s worth.”  
“‘We?’”  
“Yes, ‘we.’ Did you expect me to fill up these albums all on my own?”  
“Certainly, it would be more efficient if we worked together,” Neuvillette nodded to himself. “Very well, then, Madame. I will assist you in this endeavour.”   
With that settled, you decided to put the date photos in the first brown leather album. It had a vintage look to it that you liked.  
“It’s getting late, Madame. You should be going to bed soon,” Neuvillette informed you.   
“What about you?” Neuvillette didn’t seem to be making any moves to retire for the night just yet.  
“There are a few more matters that I need to take care of, but do not worry, it won’t take very long.”  
“Okay then,” you nodded, stepping towards the door. But just as you were about to leave the study, you thought of something. “By the way, Neuvillette, when will we be going on that restaurant date? I know you’re quite busy these days, so I can wait as long it takes. Do you have a restaurant in mind? I’m perfectly happy to go with any one you choose. Oh, and I know I promised to attend a trial, but I’m not fond of the very loud and chaotic ones, so which of the upcoming ones would you recommend?”  
“I’m afraid, Madame, that we have to put a hold on both of those arrangements. A few…unexpected matters have come up, so we will not be able to go anywhere together for a while.”  
“Oh. I see. Well, I suppose it can’t be helped,” a sharp sense of disappointment pierced your heart. It seemed that you had been looking forward to it more than you expected.   
“Madame, are you enjoying your life as it is right now?” Neuvillette asked you out of the blue.  
“Huh? What brought this on all of a sudden?”  
“Please answer my question.” There was an undercurrent of urgency in his voice.   
“I…” you had to think about it for a moment. “I do. Of course I do. I never want for anything, and everyone has treated me with nothing but kindness. I can’t even begin to repay them all, really.”  
“I see. Then, is this the sort of life you’d prefer to live?”  
“What do you mean?”  
“A quiet, peaceful life, where you are never bothered by anyone.”  
“I…suppose so? I think most people would want that.”  
“I see…” Neuvillette stared at his desk, seemingly deep in thought. Then, he looked up at you. “You should go to bed now. It is getting too late.”  
“What…” but he was already ushering you towards the door before you could say anything more.  
You observed him as he stood in the doorway. He was an unreadable cipher, but you sensed a resolve emanating from him, like he had made up his mind about something.   
“Good night, Madame,” he said quietly.   
“Good night, Neuvillette.”  
You felt like you had to say something, but you weren’t sure what.   
He saved you the effort by gently closing the study door on you. The sense of giddiness had all but completely dissipated. You felt like a deflated balloon.  
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Your unease wasn’t dispelled the next morning.   
At the breakfast table, Neuvillette was reading the newspapers. This wasn’t unusual in itself. It was part of his morning routine. What was unusual was how intensely he was looking through them.   
You looked at the headlines of the paper he was reading. There was nothing there that would warrant that deep furrow in his brow. At least, not to your knowledge. Perhaps there was some sort of secret investigation going on?   
“Madame, would you like to read the paper?” Neuvillette’s voice broke through your thoughts. It was then that you realized that you had been leaning forward and squinting your eyes to read the newspaper print. “I’m nearly done with it.”  
“Oh, no, I was just wondering if something happened, since you seem to be engrossed in them.”  
“No,” Neuvillette paused before replying. “I was simply looking for something.”  
“I see,” you said, then cut a piece of pancake and popped it into your mouth. After swallowing, you continued, “Is it work related?”  
“I…would not say so,” Neuvillette said. It was strange for him to be so evasive, but maybe it was one of those things he wasn’t at liberty to tell you.   
“By the way, Neuvillette, I’m going to start on the albums today. You’ve given me a great burden to carry, but I’m willing to take it on.”  
You were teasing him a bit, but in truth, you were a bit excited. Your teacher had a whole shelf of albums that were filled with photos from her travels throughout Teyvat, and you had pleasant memories of flipping through them and asking her the stories behind each photo. Of course, you wouldn’t be able to replicate her on that scale, but the Court of Fontaine was as good a start as any. You had even thought up a sort of system as to which area you would cover each day and what you would photograph, which you explained to Neuvillette.  
“You plan on going out into the city today, Madame?” Neuvillette asked after you finished speaking. He put down the papers and stared at you.  
“Er, yes?” you answered hesitantly. He seemed strangely preoccupied with your answer. “Is there something wrong with that?”  
“…No, not at all,” Neuvillette said after another pause. His lips were pressed together in a thin line. “Where do you plan to go?”  
“Just the plaza…” you said, raising your eyebrows at how grave he sounded. “And maybe the Palais.”  
“Do not go to the Palais,” Neuvillette spoke abruptly. His face was all seriousness. “Please, promise me that. If you have any business there, ask me. I will assist you with it.”  
You stared at him, wide-eyed. “What do you mean, I can’t go to the Palais? Did I do something wrong?”   
“No, of course not,” he said quickly.   
“Then why can’t I go there?”  
“I cannot tell you, but I assure you that I only have your safety and happiness in mind when I am asking you to not to go anywhere near the Palais. Please, Madame, promise me this.”  
You stared into his violet eyes, trying to gauge what he was thinking. There was a note of desperate urgency in his voice you had only heard once before, not to mention the weightiness of his words. “I promise,” you found yourself saying.  
“Thank you, Madame,” Neuvillette was visibly relieved. His shoulders relaxed and he closed his eyes for a second before opening them again.   
“Neuvillette, what’s going on?” you demanded. “You’re acting strange. Did something happen?”  
“Do not worry. I will take care of everything,” he said, not answering your questions at all. He stood up, and you did the same, intending on getting to the bottom of this.   
The two of you headed to the door. “You’re hiding something,” you said, glaring up at him. He met your gaze, then looked away. “It has something to do with me, doesn’t it?”  
“I’ll take care of it. Please don’t worry,” he repeated, then attempted a smile. “Focus on your photography project. I cannot to wait to see the finished product. And…Madame, if you see any suspicious persons lingering around you, you must tell one of the Melusines right away.”  
“Huh?” you gape at him, but he simply bid you goodbye and left the house. You watched him get into the carriage and set off.   
For such a stoic man, he’s actually quite terrible at hiding his feelings at times, you thought.   
Your outing at the plaza went mostly as planned. You were able to take many pictures of the fountain, the hulking Meka walking around, and the street performers. The patrolling Melusines, once you told them what you were doing, became quite enthusiastic and asked for you to take their pictures as well. It would have been a great day, if it weren’t for the gray skies and the heaviness of your heart.  
Neuvillette’s behavior at home did nothing to quell it. Though he did his best to hide it, but he was obviously stressed and worn out. He would eagerly ask you about your day but seemed distracted by his thoughts as you talked, and rebuffed your questions, whether they were innocuous or direct, when you tried to probe him for answers. He came home later than usual and worked into the late nights in his study.  
Over the next few days, you continued your urban outings, criss-crossing the city to take more pictures. You ate lunch outside and people-watched as you sat at your table. Often, a Melusine would join you. Being able to spend time in such a carefree, leisurely way would have been an unattainable dream to the past you, but you couldn’t enjoy it fully, not when you were always worried about Neuvillette at the back of your mind. He definitely seems more haggard these days. Is he eating well? I hope he isn’t just drinking water and passing that off as having lunch.  
“Are you not hungry, Madame?” a sleepy-sounding voice broke through your reverie. It belonged to Menthe, who was sitting across from you. “You’re not eating your fish and chips.”  
You looked down. The savory dish, deep-fried to a golden brown, was one of your favorite treats, but not something you ate often, and yet you found yourself with zero appetite.   
“I suppose I’m not,” you sighed. “You can have it if you like.”  
“Oh, really, Madame? Thank you!”  
You watched as Menthe happily dug in. She had accompanied you to this café after you decided to take a lunch break.   
I wonder if the Melusines are in on this too, you thought. It wasn’t unusual for Melusines to come up to you when you were walking around town, but you couldn’t help but notice that there seemed to be an awful lot of them at the places you went to. The places where you told Neuvillette you would be.   
They were as cheerful and talkative as ever, but you also noticed how intently their bright gazes flitted around, even when they chatted with you, almost as though they were on the lookout for something.  
You considered several possibilities and narrowed it down to two: One, there was a serial killer on the loose, or some other crazed criminal, who was after you. Two, your relationship had somehow been exposed to the paparazzi.   
It was doubtful that Neuvillette would let you leave the house if there was a killer after you. And why would someone want to kill you, anyway? For marrying Neuvillette? What a lame reason for murder. Then again, some of his more extreme fans were known for their passion…  
The second option seemed more likely. However, you had scoured all the tabloids for any articles on the matter, and while you did find some claiming that Neuvillette was involved with some woman or another, none of them were you (although you didn’t feel as relieved as you ought to have, for some reason). If you knew anything about these kinds of publications, it was that if they caught wind of something juicy, like the Chief Justice being in a secret relationship, they would waste no time in making that their headline, no matter how flimsy the evidence was.  
Thinking back on it now, you and Neuvillette definitely hadn’t been as discreet as you could have been. The two of you had been in public together enough times that someone could get suspicious.  
It would be easy to deny it though, you mused. In most of those cases, we were just talking or walking together. Just because a man and woman are together, it doesn’t mean they’re a married couple.  
Whatever the case was, you wished Neuvillette would talk to you about it.  
If it has something to do with me, then just tell me, you thought. You were now back home and staring up at the ceiling of your room. Why all the secrecy? It’s clearly stressing him out.  
Sure, there was probably very little you could do to help, but…but…  
Why are you acting so presumptuous? A small voice whispered in your mind. Didn’t Neuvillette say he would take care of everything? When will anyone ever offer to do that for you again?  
Yeah, but… you argued back. I shouldn’t just sit back and do nothing! It’s unfair to him.   
What does fairness mean in a relationship like this? What can you, a baron’s daughter, do for the Chief Justice of Fontaine that he can’t do for himself? If he doesn’t want you to know about something, it’s for your own good, just like last time. He clearly doesn’t expect you to do anything. What you can do to put him at ease is living your own life carefreely and supporting him at home.  
But… you struggled to come up with an argument. Or maybe, you were unwilling to.   
Your bed was nice and comfy, and your room was cozy. The sunlight streamed through the lace curtains of the window. If you wanted to, you could run a bath and soak in it for an hour, or read at your window seat, or ask Marie to make a snack for you. You could do anything you wanted.  
You continued to lie on your bed until dinner time.  
Neuvillette didn’t come home until very late at night. By that time, you were already in bed.  
The next day was grayer than usual. It rained all day. As you were in no mood to undertake the challenge of photographing in the rain, you decided to stay home and brush up on your science. You had neglected your studies for far too long.  
As you rifled through a notebook, you suddenly came upon a nearly blank page. It was titled “List of Neuvillette’s associates.”  
You remembered writing those words all those months ago. It seemed like an eternity had passed since then. You resisted the urge to bury your face in your hands again at the memories of your embarrassing behavior. It was a wonder that Neuvillette hadn’t changed his mind and married someone more well-adjusted after all that.   
You glanced at the Lakelight Lily on your desk. It looked a little less plump than before, but its refreshing scent was still there. You recalled Neuvillette’s words as he put in your hair.  
He was always so considerate and thoughtful. What’s more, you could tell he genuinely meant it. He never failed to ask after your comfort and health. He inquired about your family on a regular basis when he didn’t need to. He even accepted your awkward offer of friendship when he could have just ignored you.  
You still had no idea what possessed him to ask you to marry him. He probably would have had an easier time if he had picked anyone else. No, not just anyone. Whoever he married should be just as kind and caring as him. Someone accomplished and beautiful. Someone who he could proudly show off in public as his spouse. Someone who could teach him the “joys of matrimony.”  
But until he finds that mythical someone, he’s stuck with me.   
Resolve formed in your heart.  
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Neuvillette came home late again that night, but this time, you stayed up. You listened to his footsteps as he went down the hallway to his study. After you heard the door close, you sat up in bed.  
Okay, let’s do this, you cheered yourself on, then put on your robe and slipped out of your room.   
You padded down the carpeted floor towards the study. You found yourself walking on your tiptoes for some reason.   
The mahogany door seemed to you like an imposing barrier. It wasn’t too late to turn around and crawl back into bed. You were sorely tempted to.  
But I’m here on a mission and I’m going to see it through no matter what, you told yourself firmly.  
You raised your hand and knocked on the door. “Neuvillette,” you called out. “May I come in? I would like to speak with you.”  
A scraping sound came from inside. “Madame?” Neuvillette said as he opened the door. “What are you doing up so late?”  
You opened your mouth to answer, but your jaw remained hanging open as you took in the sight before you.  
Forearms. The words popped into your mind out of nowhere. Neck.    
Neuvillette’s usual long blue robes were nowhere to be found. For that reason, he was only wearing a white dress shirt, and his hair was unbound. That wasn’t what made you speechless. You had seen him in that state plenty of times before. No, what stunned you was the fact that his sleeves were rolled up and that the first two buttons of his shirt were undone. Without his clothing obscuring them, you were able to feast your eyes on the sight of his sinewy arms and the smooth, unblemished skin at the juncture between his neck and collarbones.   
He was usually so covered-up, even at home, that seeing so much of his skin exposed felt akin to seeing him naked. Oh no, don’t think about that, don’t think about that…    
“Madame? Madame, is something the matter?” Neuvillette’s voice broke through your thoughts, which were heading in a rather dangerous direction. To your extreme embarrassment, you realized that your mouth was hanging open slightly. No wonder he looked so concerned. I feel like a giant pervert. No, I am one!   
“Um, er…it’s nothing!” your voice came out in a higher octave. You took a step backward. This is just wonderful.  
“Are you sure? Your face looks a bit red,” Neuvillette stood up. “You shouldn’t be staying up so late, especially if you might be sick.”  
“Oh, no, no, I assure you, I am definitely not sick, not at all,” you babbled, even as the words “forearms” and “neck” danced through your head. “I really just wanted to talk to you. It’s urgent.”  
“If it’s urgent, then please come in,” Neuvillette gestured for you to enter his study. His shirt shifted slightly with the movement, exposing a sliver more of his chest. You wanted to cover your eyes.  
You entered the study. Neuvillette sat back down in his chair and looked at you. You looked at him. Or rather, you looked at the air above him.  
“Madame, what is this urgent matter you wish to discuss with me?” he asked. He looked terribly concerned, and you didn’t blame him. The way you were acting right now was definitely a cause for worry.  
“I…um…want to…uh…you know…” you gestured with your hands. “I want to…brush your hair! Yes, brush your hair. I’ve noticed how…dishevelled it gets when you come home, so I would like to fix that. Yes, that’s it.”  
“You…wish to brush my hair?” Neuvillette repeated, sounding confused.  
You nodded vigorously. “And talk,” you added.  
“I see,” he still looked confused, but he stood up and went to the door. “I shall go get my hairbrush, then.”  
“Please do so,” you said, and watched him go to his room. Once he was gone, you buried your face in one of the pillows on the couch and screamed.  
What was going on with you? Why were you getting so worked up over skin? It wasn’t as though you were some sheltered maiden who never saw shirtless men before. And Neuvillette wasn’t even shirtless! And just what would he look like without his shirt on, anyways?  
“Stop it,” you told yourself. “Stop it right now. Think about something else.”  
“Pardon me, Madame?” Neuvillette’s voice made you jolt upright. “Did you say something? And why are you lying on the couch?”  
“It’s nothing,” you quickly got up and clasped your hands together, making yourself the picture of composure and self-possession, ignoring the voice in your head that told you it wasn’t too late to excuse yourself and run back to your room. “Please forget what you just saw. I am perfectly fine.”  
You held out your hand for the hairbrush, and Neuvillette gave it to you after some hesitation. The hairbrush was silver, its back carved with a swirling design. It was heavy and cool in your hand. You tried to picture Neuvillette brushing his hair with it every morning, like a princess in a fairytale, and had to suppress a (most likely crazed-looking) smile.  
He sat down in his chair, and you stood behind him. You slowly ran the brush through his silver locks, careful not to touch his horns. You did this in silence for a few moments. It had a strangely calming effect on you—you felt your heartbeat settling down, your mind becoming clearer. The fact that you couldn’t see his face was also helpful.  
“Neuvillette,” you began. “I know that you’ve been hiding something from me. I would like you to reveal it to me.”  
You heard him let out a sigh. He tried to turn his head, but you prevented him from doing so. “Madame, I have already explained to you that it is nothing for you to worry about. Please allow me to take care of it. It was caused by my own oversight in the first place.”  
“I am allowing you to take care of it. But I would still like to know what it is.”  
“It will only distress you, and I do not wish to do that.”  
“I will be the judge of what distresses me. And besides, seeing you obviously so troubled by this matter already makes me feel wretched, so there is really nothing to lose here.”  
“My apologies. I will work harder to mask my feelings as to not affect your mood.”  
“Neuvillette, that’s not the point I’m making,” you groaned as you worked to loosen a particularly tough tangle in his hair. “Right now, not knowing what’s troubling you is causing me more distress than whatever this mysterious ‘something’ is.”  
“I do not believe you would think the same way once you learned what it is.”  
“How do you know that?” you asked. Realizing that you had raised your voice, you quickly softened it. “Let me put this another way. This is how I’m repaying you.”  
“Repaying me?”   
“Yes. For listening to me, for allowing me to cry into your arms on our date. Do you know, Neuvillette, that it’s been a long time since I was able to vent my feelings to someone like that? I’ve forgotten how nice it feels. It…really saved me. And I want to do the same thing for you. I don’t know if I’ll be able to do anything, but it’s easier to come up with a solution when you’re discussing things with someone else, isn’t it?”  
Neuvillette didn’t say anything. He didn’t move. But you could tell that he was wavering. You picked up the ends of his long hair and brushed them. You needed to give him one last push.  
“If you don’t inform me about matters that are related to me, then I see no reason why I should tell you anything more about myself.”  
“Madame, what are you implying?” there was a note of what almost sounded like panic in Neuvillette’s voice.   
“That’s right. If you do not tell me your secret, I shall not speak to you ever again for the remainder of our marriage. You will lose the privilege of conversing with me.”  
You had expected him to let out a chuckle or something. You hadn’t meant it seriously. Well, maybe a little. You were feeling a bit frustrated.  
What you didn’t expect was that he would wrench himself out of your grip and turn around to face you. His lips were pressed together tightly, but his eyes were wide. His gaze burned through you.  
“I will tell you,” he said, voice almost too calm. “So please reconsider. It will pain me greatly if you go through with it.”  
“I won’t,” you said, caught off guard.  
He turned back around. After taking a pause, he told you about the photo Furina obtained, and the ultimatum she gave him. You listened to him intently as he talked, brushing the bottom half of his hair and occasionally untangling snarls.   
After he finished speaking, you took a few minutes to digest what you’ve just heard.  
“So, no one else except Lady Furina has that photo?”  
“Yes.”  
“You don’t believe that she would lie or go back on her promise?”  
“In this matter, I do not believe she would.”  
“I see,” you put down the brush, then moved yourself to meet Neuvillette’s eyes. “Then, I agree to the meeting. I think that’s the most reasonable thing to do here. In hindsight, we should have done it a long time ago. It would have saved us all this trouble.”  
“You agree to it?” Neuvillette repeated, sounding stunned.   
“Well, it was either this or let Lady Furina dig up my sordid past and do whatever she wants with that information, right? Besides, what’s so scary about a meeting? Plenty of people from all walks of life have made appointments with her, including my own great-grandparents. If they could do it, so can I. And I’ll have you there with me, so there’s really nothing to worry about.”  
“But once she meets you face-to-face, you will become known to her. You will not be able to live the peaceful life that you desire.”  
Oh, so that’s why he asked that question, you thought.   
“Well, we don’t know that, do we? For all we know, once she meets with us, she would judge that we are a perfectly uninteresting couple and leave us alone for the rest of the year.”  
“That is unlikely to happen,” Neuvillette murmured. “And what if she discovers our arrangement?”  
“She won’t if we don’t do anything that would reveal it to her. You know the saying, ‘Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.’ As long as we don’t do anything that would make her want to go through the records in the license office, we should be fine.” A thought suddenly struck you. “She can’t…prevent us from divorcing, can she? Or force us to remarry?”  
“There are no laws that grant her the powers to do those things. But, I expect that she could make life difficult for you, should she choose to do so.”  
“Hmm…” you thought. “Well, I’ll just think about what to do when that time comes.”  
“Madame,” Neuvillette rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t be so irresponsible about your own future. This is why I did not wish to tell you. I did not want you to push yourself needlessly for my sake.”  
“Push myself needlessly? I see things differently. There’s no guarantee that things will go smoothly, but that’s just life, isn’t it? All I know is that if we don’t do anything, it will most likely turn out badly for us. So I would rather choose the other option.”  
You sounded braver than you felt. In this cozy, quiet study with Neuvillette, where you were the only people who would ever know the words exchanged in this room, it was easy to feel self-assured and optimistic about the unknown. Perhaps this was also its own sort of danger.   
But when you looked at Neuvillette’s worried face, you found it easier to feel brave.  
“Neuvillette, do you remember the promise I made to you on that first night? I promised to make sure that your life is as inconvenienced as possible. This is how I’m trying to fulfill it. Will you allow me to do that?”  
“You need not go that far. You have never inconvenienced me, not even now. In fact, you have been a reassurance. It was due to my folly that we got into this situation in the first place.”  
“If it was your folly, then it was mine as well. I should have also been paying attention,” you let out a sigh. “Look, Neuvillette, we can go around in circles about this all night, but when you get down to it, it is for situations like these that you married me. You didn’t marry me because you liked me in that way. Oh, don’t look at me like that. You know it’s true. If I don’t do my part, then I’m just a freeloader living in your house, right?”  
“I have never thought of you as a ‘freeloader’… I have always considered you as my wife,” Neuvillette said curtly, but then he smiled at you gently. “You’ve made some very good points. You are correct. It was irresponsible of me to hide it from you. I still have much to learn when it comes to how a husband ought to behave, it seems.”  
A warm, tingling feeling spread through your body when you heard his words. He thought of you as his wife. Well, of course he did, since you were officially married and all. But hearing him call you “my wife” was an entirely different thing.  
“That’s my job, as your wife. To discuss problems and come up with solutions with you. And from now on, please tell me whenever you’re feeling troubled over something. I’m inadequate in many things, but I’ve been told that I’m a good listener,” you said, fiddling with your fingers. You felt your mouth stretching into a wide smile for no reason and looked down to hide it.  
“I will. My apologies for all the distress I’ve caused you. I will tell Furina tomorrow about our decision.”  
You and Neuvillette held each other’s gazes for longer than was necessary. In the dim light of the study, his eyes looked darker, obscuring his slitted pupils. You felt weak-kneed all of a sudden. You realized that you had been running on adrenaline until now, but you didn’t feel sleepy. In fact, you were wide awake.  
“Will you go to bed now?” he asked. His voice was lower, huskier than usual.  
You shook your head. “Will you?”  
“I still have some work to do.”  
“Then I’ll stay up with you. Since I’m your wife and all.”  
Neuvillette looked like he was about to argue, but you went over to one of the bookshelves and took out a history book, then went to curl up on the couch. “Feel free to disregard me,” you said, opening the book.  
After a few seconds, you heard an exhale, then the resuming of a pen scratching against paper.  
You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but when you woke up, you were in your bed with the comforter neatly pulled up to your chin. You were quite sure you had a dream, but didn’t recall its contents except for the instinctive knowledge that it was a good one.  
You also had the vague memory of feeling something warm brushing against your forehead, but it was so brief and fleeting that it might have been part of the dream as well.  
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blushweddinggowns · 2 days
Text
Robin sat right down, sighing, “So what? We all live in the woods and hope the kids find us?”
“They will,” Steve reassured, “Lucas is probably getting help as we speak. Besides, it’s not that cold out. We’ll be fine. And if they don’t find us, we’ll find them.” 
Nancy nodded, despite the fact that she was already shivering. But Steve noticed. He didn’t even hesitate to take his own jacket off. 
She frowned, as he draped it over her shoulders,  “But what about you?”
“I have a sweater and an Eddie blanket,” Steve smiled, “I'll be just fine.”
“Speaking of that…” Eddie trailed in, “How about Steve and I go a little bit away and keep watch?”
Chrissy knew Jason was losing it, but she was 100 percent confident he was busy dealing with his murdered friend. She frowned, “Do you really think they’ll come after watching their friend die-”
“Yeah, you two go do that,” Robin interrupted with a sigh. She turned to Chrissy, “They want to make-out and save us the headache. We’re almost certain to be good for the night.”
“We'll be back soon,” Steve said, a slight flush to his cheeks but he didn’t correct her, “And we won’t go far.”
“Within an hour,” Nancy warned, “And keep quiet.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie said flippantly, wrapping an arm around Steve’s shoulder, “You won’t even miss us.”
They walked away into the darkness, leaning into each other as they went. Chrissy was pretty sure she saw Steve stick his hand into Eddie’s back pocket before they were out of sight. 
“It’s actually insane that they haven’t gotten caught yet,” Robin said as she watched them go, “I only found out because I saw them shoving tongues in a parking lot. But once you know, you can never unsee it.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t catch on sooner,” Chrissy sighed as she sat to Robin’s left, Nancy taking the right, “Did they really trick all of you?”
“All of us,” Nancy confirmed through a yawn, “They can actually be pretty sneaky when they want to be. They just never want to be.”
Nancy rested her head against Robin’s shoulder, Steve’s jacket wrapped tightly around her, “We should sleep.”
“We will,” Robin said quietly, “But don’t wait for us. Go right ahead.”
Nancy gave her a little smile, “If you say so.”
It barely took a few minutes for her to be completely out. She looked so peaceful, so much younger when she was asleep. Chrissy was well aware that Nancy was a small girl, but she had so much presence. 
“She looks so much bigger when she's awake,” Chrissy mumbled quietly, “Like she can take on the world.”
“She probably could,” Robin laughed, “I think it’s all personality.”
“I know. I wish I could be like that.”
“Why?” Robin asked, furrowing her brow, “You’re literally perfect.”
Chrissy couldn’t help but laugh at that, “How on Earth am I perfect?”
But Robin didn’t look like she was joking, “Dude you are. You’re so sweet and fun. You’re talented, athletic, pretty, but still nice somehow. You’re brave as hell, if this whole scenario stands for anything. And you’re hot when you punch dudes in the face.”
That was almost too sweet for Chrissy to hear. But she couldn’t help but zero in on one thing, “You think I’m hot?”
Robin froze, opening and closing her mouth as she stuttered, “I-No? I mean, yes? I-objectively yes. Not creepily.”
Chrissy smiled, her heart beating a little faster at the implication. But… Jason. She felt so bad for him. After what he’d seen, it made sense to blame them. But it only made sense now. There was no framework to understand what was happening before and to just blame Eddie and Nancy for everything was ridiculous. She’d never seen him like that before, so out of sorts. He was so good at keeping his temper undercheck, she didn’t get what was happening to him.
But… she had been pretty clear hadn’t she? She didn’t leave with him, she never even tried. She told him to go home, that she didn’t need him, she didn’t want him. It… it was close enough to a break-up wasn’t it? Chrissy wasn’t sure. Though she had a feeling even thinking of things the way she was made her a bad person. 
It just didn’t stop her from blurting, “I-I count tonight as breaking up with Jason. Just so you know. We um, we were never that close but my mom- she likes his family a-and… he used to be nice. He is nice but he’s… it doesn’t matter. We aren’t together. Just um, so you know. If you didn’t.”
She wanted to say more but… Chrissy could only be so brave in one day.
“I was um,” Robin swallowed, her face already red, “I was hoping that was the case. Because you deserve to be happy and I don’t…. I don't think he could do that.”
“He couldn’t,” Chrissy said softly, inching her fingers slowly to intertwine with Robin’s. She felt okay, as okay as she could be with the circumstances-
“Mmph!” 
Chrissy nearly jumped at the sudden noise, the only saving grace was that she definitely recognized it as Eddie’s voice. 
“Are they okay?” Chrissy asked nervously, staring out into the darkness. But Robin didn’t seem worried, she just gave Chrissy’s hand a comforting squeeze. 
“I wouldn't check if I were you,” Robin sighed, “If they get loud again I'll throw a rock in their general direction. But they are fine. Trust me.”
from the newest chapter of this fic
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nanaslutt · 5 months
Note
oh my god please make another part of gojo teaching us that was so good holy shit
Gojo teaches you how to touch him<3
Pt. 1 here
contains: fem reader, guided jerking off, experienced gojo, size kink if you squint, so much dirty talk, corruption kink, overstimulation, first time making out, gojo walks you through everything, cum eating
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔
“Wanna learn how to touch a dick?” his question rang in your ears like a flash grenade had gone off. He was referring to himself right? You had to remind yourself how to breathe at how anxious his question made you. Touching yourself had made you embarrassed and self aware enough as it is, so touching someone else? The thought made you feel mortified.
Gojo must’ve picked up on your anxiousness because he used his big hands to rub comfortingly up and down your forearms, “Hey, if you’re not comfortable we can always stop here, you’ve already done so good.” He comforted.
Gojo might be unserious 99% of the time, but when it came to making you feel safe, he really nailed it. You came to the right person in asking for help with this kind of thing.
"N-no, I think I want to its just.. I dont know what im doing." You confess, even though he already knew. Gojo giggled, making the weight on your shoulders lift a bit at the sound, "Baby, I know, thats why Im gonna teach you, if you’ll let me." He smiles, leaning his body forward so you could see his face-- the visual of him smiling eased your nerves slightly.
"Right.. but what if I'm still not any good?" You say, shyly. "I almost came in my pants just watching you cum so.. I'm pretty sure you will do juuust fine." He confessed, making you huff out a laugh. "O-okay, what should I do?" You asked, turning your body so you were facing him, reaching over to grab your previously discarded panties while you waited for him to answer.
"The first thing you can do is forget about these," Gojo took your soaked panties from your hand, making you scoff as he twirled them around his finger before pocketing the fabric as quick as he snatched them, "The view of your little pussy is so cute, don't want these to get in the way of this eye candy." He praised, making you blush and look away from his intimidating gaze.
He brought his hand up to your face after pulling his hand out of his pocket-- caressing the side of your cheek comfortingly, "Come here." He instructed, sliding down on the headboard so he was propped comfortingly against the pillows, "On my lap," He adds when you hesitate to move twords him.
You situated yourself comfortably on his thighs, right under his crotch, you placed your hands on his lower stomach, staring at his intimidating bulge while you waited for his words to come. "You wanna start by touching it over his pants, just like you did for yourself." He instructs, speaking generally.
You picked your hands up from his stomach, hovering them a couple inches over his crotch before taking a deep breath and biting your lip. "How should I.. touch it?" you ask uncertainty laced in your words. "Wrap your hand around it the best you can and rub," He tells you, placing his hands on your thighs and rubbing his thumb on your skin for comfort.
You held your breath before you made contact with him, making him hiss air into his lungs through his teeth at the feeling of properly being touched after so much tension. You softly rubbed him up and down, gulping at how big he felt in your hand. "You can rub a little harder, it's not gonna break," He laughed, making you blush and whisper out a quiet 'sorry' as you briefly made eye contact with him, quickly averting your gaze back down to his crotch.
You gripped him through his pants, stroking him rougher now but still slowly, up and down. You took a peek at his face from under your lashes, watching him lick his lips and blink rapidly, his eyes focused on your hand at work on him.
"Yeah, yeah, just like that." He praised, keeping his eyes glued down between the two of you. You felt your face heat up when his cock jumped against your hand, it felt so hot even through his pants. The thought of seeing a real dick, unobstructed by fabric was making your head spin.
The man underneath you truly thought he would've came the second you touched him, it was a miracle from the heavens that he had managed to hold back and not bust in his pants at the first contact.
Your inexperience turned him on to no extent. He just loved the idea of corrupting you, showing you all of the amazing things you could feel, everything that you've been missing out on. He swore he would ruin you for anyone else—make you addicted to him so you never even thought about doing this with anyone else.
"D-does this feel good?" You ask genuinely, you had noticed his expressions and reactions to your touch—and they seemed like good ones—but you had no idea how someone was supposed to react when you touched them like this, hence why you asked for his confirmation.
"Feels better than you know." He grinned, his body running warmer the longer you stroked him over his pants. "It feels so big." You confessed, unaware of how your words went straight to his head and dick.
"Yeah?" his smirk grew as he felt his own ego inflate at your words, not like he needed that. "Yeah.." You meekly replied, "It keeps twitching too," you told him like he was unaware. "I know baby, means you're doing a good job." He praised once more, making you pull your bottom lip between your teeth.
"Wanna see it?" He asked after he deemed that you had been touching him outside his pants for an adequate amount of time. You swallowed hard, stilling your hand on his cock as it continued to jump under the weight of your palm. "Yes, please." You answered, sliding your hands up his shirt and feeling his hard abs before you slid them back down to hold onto the hem of his pants. "Should I take your boxers off too, or?" You question, hesitating.
He smiled at you, giving you a short nod. You grabbed his pants and boxers alike, beginning to pull them down his body— gojo lifted his hips up to aid your efforts, jaw dropping in an open-mouthed smile when his hard cock sprung up and slapped against his abdomen.
Your mouth opened in a small o shape, running dry at the sheer size of his now unobstructed cock. There was a string of pre that had already dropped down against his abdomen, connecting the two.
It looked as thick as it felt, a nice upwards curve to it, and the tip was flushed a pretty pink color. It was the prettiest and only dick you’d ever seen.
“You like what you see, cutie?” he teased, making his cock jump as you stared between the appendage and his penetrating gaze. “Fuck.. y-yeah.” you confessed, feeling yourself start to throb between your legs at the new visual.
“Go ahead an touch it, the same as you did before.” Gojo instructed. You slowly reached out, wrapping your hand around his length, noticing that your fingers couldn’t wrap all the way around his girth.
The man underneath you couldn’t resist as he thrusted his hips up into your hand, biting his lip at the direct contact. “Your hand is so fucking soft” He praised, “Go ahead and spit on it for me, it doesn’t feel very good when it’s dry.” he told you.
The gears in your head were still turning at what you were actually doing right now. Without saying anything, you leaned down a bit, collecting the saliva in your mouth before you spit right onto his cockhead, making him gasp.
You brought your hand to his tip, rubbing it around in circles before sliding your hand down the length of his cock and coating it in your spit, easing the slide. “Fuuuck, just like that, shit-“ Gojo cursed, tipping his head back against the pillows and squeezing his eyes shut.
“S-squeeze harder at the tip,” he instructed, remembering he was supposed to be teaching you, so staying silent and moaning probably wouldn’t do you much good. “T-the tip is more sensitive than the rest of the cock, so make sure to pay more attention to it.” he tells you.
“Is it kinda like the clit?” You ask, which makes him giggle before he responds, “Sorta..” he answeres, staring at the ceiling in thought before he continues, “Yeah actually, pretty similar, but if you spend too much time on just the tip it can get a little too sensitive.” He explains.
“Sensitive how?” you ask, continuing your slow but heavy strokes on his cock, using the knowledge he just told you in squeezing harder against his tip. “Why don’t I show you?” he says.
“Take one hand and keep stroking me just like you’re doing, with the other, lay your palm flat- yeah just like that- then curl your hand over the entirety of my tip, and rotate your wrist in circles.” Gojo instructed, digging his nails into your thighs prematurely as he braced himself for the intense overstimulating pleasure that was about to come.
“This won’t hurt you right?” you ask, getting your hands into place but keeping them still as you awaited his answer. “You’re so sweet~” he cooed, “I’ll stop you if it’s too much.”
With that, you started, quickly jerking the length of his cock while rotating your wrist over his dick in quick circles. Immediately his body started reacting, back arching and abs clenching uncontrollably as he bit his lip and dug his nails deeper into your skin to keep himself grounded.
“K- haaah- keep g-going-“ he moaned out, his legs jerking and twitching underneath you as you kept up your antics. “Fuck! f-fuck-“ The white haired man squeezed his eyes shut as his body spasmed without his permission.
Your cunt was throbbing at how you were able to bring a man as strong as Gojo to this state. “Ngh~” he was whining and moaning against the sheets, head thrashing back and forth as he tried to keep his voice down.
You never wanted this to end, you finally understood what he meant when he said he was worked up from just watching you play with yourself, as you felt your cunt clench, slick dripping down your leg from your tight hole.
His large hand came down to stop your wrist, panting heavily he spoke, “O-okay, okay- fuck, that’s enough.” He groaned when the pleasure quickly became too much. "S-sorry, are you okay?" you choked, once again making him smile at how sweet you were. "I'm just fine baby, it's just a little overwhelming," He said, releasing your wrist and placing his hand back on your thighs.
"Did so fucking good though, listened just like I told you to." He smirked, gripping your thighs and making you look up at him through your lashes. You pouted out your bottom lip a bit in embarrassment, trying your best to not look away from his intimidating gaze. "Alright, class is back in session, go ahead and pick up where you left off." He continued.
You released your hand that was caressing his tip, going back to jerking him off steadily with the one hand. "Don't forget about the balls either, you just wanna massage them softly," he instructs after a couple seconds of your continued ministrations. You nod, acknowledging his words before you spit on your other hand, and bring it down to his warm balls.
"Oh shit- haha- didn't even have to tell you to spit." He says, amazement laced in his words, "You had n-nothing to worry about, you're doing so fucking good." He reassured when you started to expertly roll and massage his sack in your hand, timing your motions perfectly with the jerking of his cock.
"Cmere baby," He asked, growing needier and needier at the more stimulation you provided him with. You tilted your head at him, confused, making him laugh. "Come give me a kiss, pretty thing." He clarifies. You hesitate slightly, You've kissed one or two people before, but you've never made out with anyone per se, which is what you were assuming Gojo wanted right now.
"Follow my lead, I'll show you how to make kissing feel as good as sex." He boldly said, making you blush. You released your hold on his balls, opting to place your hand against his hard chest for stability as you leaned forward, not stopping your ministrations on his cock. He gave you a toothy grin, his big hands coming up to grab your waist before he opened his mouth, huffing out a small laugh before he pressed your lips together.
He immediately took the lead, moving his lips against your own, massaging his soft lips with his. He groaned into the kiss, which made you reciprocate the sound, whining into his mouth. Where you normally would've pulled away by now, Gojo instead opened his mouth against you and pressed another kiss to your lips, repeating the action, and continuing the kiss.
You unawarely squeezed his cock harder at the stimulation, you had no idea that kissing could feel so erotic. When Gojo felt your fist tighten up around him, he pulled back half an inch from the kiss, panting slightly against your lips before he spoke needily, "Faster baby, give it to me faster." He rushed before conjoining your lips once more, rougher this time.
You felt him poke his tongue out and lick against your lips, "Open your mouth for me, baby," He said to you between kisses, to which you complied. He took this new opportunity to lick his tongue into your mouth. You thought French kissing would feel gross and unpleasant, but this was nothing of the sort, it really felt like he was fucking your mouth. He expertly massaged the inside of your mouth with his warm appendage, making you throb between your legs.
You remembered his words; which had told you to follow his lead; as you reciprocated, darting your tongue out and intertwining it with his, and it felt even better. "Mmmmm" Gojo hummed against your lips when he felt your tongue join the fun. Hips lips suddenly attached to your bottom one, slowing down the kiss briefly as he sucked it into his mouth and bit it between his teeth, smirking before he let it go, chasing your lip as it bounced back to your face.
You had switched up your technique on his cock just seconds ago, rotating your wrist over his entire cock, and pulsing your grip to imitate your pussy walls, giving him harder strokes when you slid your hand down him; you were having fun with it, and it must've been working.
Gojo pulled away from the kiss, allowing you to sit back up as he panted heavily, his cock was steadily dripping more and more pre onto your fingers, easing the slide against his cock while you jerked him off. "Did you like that?" He asked, referring to the kiss. "Y-yeah, I didn't know kissing could feel so good," you replied honestly, making him smile.
"I know~ made your pussy feel all needy again, huh?" he said, having noticed the wetness that was coating your inner thighs, his words sending a wave of sudden awareness through you, making you want to cower away. "Aww, don't get shy on me baby, look at me," He started, "I'm the one getting my cock jerked off, about to fucking burst," The man giggled, "If anyone should be embarrassed it's me~"
"You're about to cum?" You asked, those words being the only ones that made it into your dizzy head. "Yeah, and it's all cos' of you, didn't even have to give you that much i-instruction, you're a pro." he praised, making you look away from his gaze and instead focus on his cock in your smaller hand. "You wanna make me cum?" He asked.
"Wanna watch you cum.." You replied, making him laugh breathlessly as he felt your words go straight to his balls, "Oh don't worry, you will," He informed you, tipping his head back once more against the pillows, and letting himself really feel as you stroked your fingertips along his lower abs, while keeping the steady and mind numbing pace on his cock.
"Fuck, wish I was cuming inside your pussy," He suddenly moaned, catching you off guard with his words as he gripped your hips with his large hands. "Would fill you up so fucking full." He babbled, inching closer and closer to his high with every stroke, slightly thrusting up into your warm hand.
proofread-----
"If I try hard enough, your little hand starts to feel like your perfect fucking cunt," He groaned through his teeth, "but I just know you would be so much warmer and wetter- fuck-." He moaned at his own words, working himself up as he dropped his chin forward to look at your hand on him, his jaw opened in a small o shape.
"You want that? Huh? Want me to split you open on my cock and fill you up with my cum?" His words had gotten so filthy and shameless, and so fast, it was giving you whiplash. You nodded meekly, not trusting your voice right now as his words alone made you feel like you were going to cum. But that wasn't good enough for Gojo. "Gotta hear you say it baby, need you to tell me you need it." He groaned through his teeth, making your body move above him as he thrust his hips upwards, helping you fuck his cock with your hand.
"Y-yes Satoru I want it." You said, meaning every word, "What do you want?" He rushed out, trying to hold back from cumming to hear you say those magic words. His balls and shaft alike were twitching so strongly against your hold, getting ready to release his seed. "W-want you to come inside me, please give it t-to me." You blushed at your own words, the embarrassment worsening when he groaned shamelessly at them. His pretty eyes rolled back in his head as his orgasm crashed down on him. "Fuck- coming-" he warned before you felt his warm seed start to cover your hand.
Long rope after rope of his cum coated your hard, making you moan with him at the erotic sight. His abs were clenching under your hand, body twitching and back arching slightly, similar to how your own did when you had cum, as you fucked him through his high. You kept jerking him off even after the spasms of his body ceased, and his cock started to soften in your hold.
His large hand shot up and gripped your wrist harshly. "C-careful," He laughed, heaving air into his lungs, "It's so fucking sensitive right after we cum." He said.
"Shit s-sorry," You blushed, releasing his dick from your soiled hand as you stared at his seed that covered it, amazed by how much there was. "Don't be sorry baby, I haven't cum that hard in my life, and all just from your hand" He laughed, rubbing his large hands up the length of your torso while he let himself catch his breath, his soft cock resting against his tummy.
An idea popped into your head, remembering how he had sucked off your cum from your own fingers after he made you finish, and it made you wonder what he tasted like too. Absentmindedly you brought your hand up to your mouth, not paying attention to the man below you as he watched your every movement with bated breath, knowing exactly what you were about to do.
You let your tongue poke out from your open mouth, licking up his seed at tasting him on your tongue. It was bitter, but not overwhelmingly so, there was something almost sweet about it, which made you suck your fingers completely into your mouth, swallowing his seed that coated them.
Gojo watched with a slack jaw at the show you were putting on, his cock twitched to life as he watched you eagerly lick up his cum. "Fuuuck." He drew, bringing your attention back to him as you popped your fingers out of your mouth, giving him a small smile that made his brain short-circuit.
"I have so much to teach you." He grinned, caressing the side of your face as you closed your eyes, and leaned your face into his hand.
pt.3
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babyleostuff · 4 months
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when their strong independent s/o suddenly wants to be babied | ot13
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❥ seungcheol 
oh, he’d love that. as much of a baby as he is, cheol adores taking care of people that he loves, especially you, and especially because you’re never the one to lean on others or ask for help. so the second he notices you’re a lot more touchy and that your gaze follows him everywhere, his arms are wrapped around you in an instant, and he’s asking if you need any food, water, more pillows, or if the TV is too loud, while running his hand gently through your hair. he would never tell you this, but he’d be so thankful to you that you trusted him enough to let your guard down around him and allow yourself to depend on him a bit more sometimes (if it was his way, he’d like you to be a bit less independent, because he knows how tiresome it sometimes is, but nonetheless, cheol would always be there for you).
❥ jeonghan 
he’s already babying you, even when you're being your cold and independent self. he doesn’t care that you want to open that jar, he’s going to take it out of your hands and do it himself. you’re sitting on the couch while watching a movie with a popcorn bowl separating you? no problem, jeonghan moves it out of the way and pulls you down, so you could rest on his chest, while he’s throwing a blanket around you. he doesn’t do that because he thinks you’re incapable of taking care of yourself - he knows you can, but he doesn’t want you to feel like you can’t depend on him. besides, when he notices how exhausted you are but still doesn't want to depend on someone else, it makes him angry. so, be as independent as you wish, jeonghan is still going to baby the shit out of you. 
❥ joshua
same as jeonghan, you’re already getting that princess treatment, darling. but unlike hannie, joshua does that unconsciously - he doesn’t pay attention to the way he pets your hair whenever you succeed in something, how he grabs your waist to move you out of the way, so that he could reach for that plate, or how he always made sure you’d walk on the inner side of the sidewalk. he knew you were an independent, strong person, but he wouldn’t let you carry all of your burdens yourself, and he’d try to help you in any way he could to make it a bit easier for you. whenever you got a bit more baby around him, joshua would activate his physical touch and cling to you like a koala, because he knew how much, deep down, you enjoyed his clingy, and puppy like side.
❥ jun 
give him a second, because he’s freaking out. will turn into the fluffiest fluffball to ever fluff, because he wants nothing more than to make you happy when you’re in need of a bit more love and comfort. but before smothering you with his kisses and cuddles, jun makes sure you’re feeling fine mentally and physically - he sits you down, takes your hands in his, and when you assure him that you just need to be taken care of for a bit, he goes into teddy bear mode. He loves it when you depend on him, when you snuggle a bit closer to him in search for warmth, when you follow him around everywhere, when you link your pinky fingers when you’re out for a stroll. 
❥ hoshi 
giggling and kicking his feet. this man lives for taking care of you, even if his methods are sometimes a bit questionable. he loves your independent side, soonyoung finds it so cool that you are able to take such good care of yourself, but it makes him sulk sometimes, because “why don’t you depend on me a bit more?” so, whenever you are in baby mode, he tries to make the most of it - hug the shit out of you, follow you wherever he can, squish your cheeks, and call you corny pet names that would usually make you puke. but he would also be a bit more protective over you whenever you let your guard down like that, because he knew you were extra vulnerable in times like these. so, he’d bundle the both of you into a blanket burrito, and hide you from the world for a while. 
❥ wonwoo 
silently screaming, crying, throwing up. you are just as independent as he is, and sometimes he worries that you don’t consider him someone you can depend on or lean on. that’s why moments like these - when you are a bit more clingy and touchy, when you play with his hair a lot more, when you come waddling into his room with a blanket around you to sit beside him and watch him game - it reassures him that he does a good job as a boyfriend, and he tries his best to comfort you, without making you feel like you’re being weak for letting your guard for a bit. the biggest reward for him was when you fell asleep next to him while he was reading you a book in bed. 
❥ woozi 
in the past, woozi was a bit insecure about being the caregiver - he wasn’t sure he was the person you needed to baby you, or give you extra comfort and love. but after you made multiple threats, and changed his password to his studio, he kind of got the idea that yes, he was the person you needed. woozi secretly loved how you leaned on him from time to time, it gave him a peace of mind that you could rest a bit in his presence, and let go of your strong persona, and just be your adorable, little self. he always kept extra blankets in his studio in case you came pouting and asking for cuddles, so he could always have something to wrap around you and keep you warm. 
❥ dk 
endless cuddles incoming. once he notices that you want to be taken care of and babied, there is no way he’s going to let go of you. even if you’d want to get up for a glass of water, worry not, your puppy of a boyfriend would be right behind you, his (buff) arms wrapped securely around your waist, just in case you tried to get away from him. but he’d also understand that you usually acted like this when you were emotionally and physically tired, so he would make sure to talk to you, and comfort you in any way you needed (even though you insisted that cuddles were enough, he knew you were silently asking for a couple of kisses, and for him to sing to you, so you could finally rest without worry). 
❥ mingyu 
puppy nr. 2. the second he’d see you following him with a pout on your face, he’d know it was his time to put on his best husband act, and baby the shit out of you. he’d lift you up without saying anything (giggling in his mingoo giggles), carry you to the kitchen, place you on the counter, stand between your legs, playfully peck your lips, and get ready to make you your favourite ramyeon. mingyu would make a total fool out of himself just to make you laugh, because to him, as long as you were happy and smiling, it was all that mattered. after eating, he’d bundle you up in the most oversized hoodie he owned, wrap you up in a blanket, and put on a scary movie, just so he could cuddle you really, really, really close (his eyes were closed for the whole duration of the movie). 
❥ minghao 
cue in heart eyes. hao’s acts of service or physical touch were always low-key - you always knew he was there for you, but he didn’t push his love into other people’s faces. but, when you needed to be babied, when you needed that extra warmth and comfort form your boyfriend, minghao was always more happy than to turn into your personal teddy bear. he loved how independent you were, it made him so proud that you could take care of yourself, but at the same time it made him worry that you were draining yourself too much. that’s why when you needed to be babied, YOU WERE BABIED. whatever you’d ask for, he’d do it in an instant, no questions asked - it could be the most stupid thing and he’d do it with a smile on his face. 
❥ seungkwan 
mom mode activated. at first he’d get a bit worried that you were acting a lot more baby with him, letting him hug you without side eyeing him, or letting him squish your cheeks without you throwing a tantrum. but after he’d catch on to what was going on, seungkwan would make you sit at the dinner table while frantically looking through the cabinets searching for your favourite ramyeon. after making you some food, and not burning the house down, he’d take you out on a walk around the neighbourhood, your arms linked, while he rambled about all of the funny stuff that happened during practice, to take your mind off of your worries. when you were in baby mode, you and him were like two magnets - you could not be separated, and even if you were, you immediately found your way back to each other.     
❥ vernon 
first of all, it would make him feel so appreciated that you turned to him when you needed to be babied. vernon didn’t get to be the caregiver often, but whenever he’d notice that you needed a bit more comfort and love than usual, he’d try his best, because he wanted to be someone you could always depend on. you’d either do something very calming and relaxing like cuddle under a blanket and watch a movie, or if you were feeling more bold, you’d bake (which with vernon means one thing - a disaster). whatever you decided to do, vernon made sure to always stay by your side, his hand on you hip, because you in baby mode also required him to include a bit more of physical touch, which to be honest he was very grateful for, because usually he was too shy to initiate it himself.  
❥ chan 
he’s been waiting for this. i believe chan thrives off of being the caretaker, so he’d be prepared and ready - pillows stacked up on your bed, comforters to keep you warm, all of your favourite snacks and movies, and his arms to keep you close to his body through the whole night. because he didn’t get to baby you often, he’d make the most out of the times that it happened, and it would honestly make him so so happy that even though you’re this strong and independent person, you still allowed him to take care of you from time to time. he’d finally be able to thank you for all of the times that you had taken care of him.
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sttoru · 6 months
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⟣ tags. gojo satoru x female reader. fluff. happy family moment t_t
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“she said whaaaat? no way!”
you were scrolling on your phone in the living room when you heard that familiar voice pierce through the comfortable silence — satoru’s voice, a bit more high pitched this time, almost like he couldn’t believe what he had heard.
your boyfriend was over at your parents’ place for the first time and seemed to get along just fine with your mother in the kitchen. you could hear their giggles and gasps every now and then whilst your body was resting on the couch.
their voices were getting louder by the minute, thus you decide to stand up and go check on them. you reach the doorstep and instantly smile at the heartwarming scene that greets you;
your mother chopping up some vegetables, chuckling whilst excitedly telling her recent gossips to satoru, who was leaning back against the kitchen counter next to her — his arms crossed and those pretty dimples of his apparent on his face as he carefully listens to your mother’s stories.
“seems like you two are getting along well already, eh?” you chuckle after observing them for a little while longer. your presence instantly make satoru smile even more (if that were even possible), his eyes glimmering at the sight of you;
“hey, baby!” the white-haired man walks over to you and hugs you tightly before letting go, though his hand remains at your waist. the grin on his face widens, “your mother has the most juiciest of gossips that i’ve ever heard around town, i’m telling ya — stuff’s got me absolutely hooked.”
your mother responds to that with a short giggle. she glances up from her cutting board and sends you a look — one that emits her approval of the lover you’ve chosen. it seems like satoru’s charming personality succeeded into mellowing even your parents’ hearts.
“heh, i do actually believe that.” you nod with your own cheeky grin. your mother was like a newspaper — you always hear all the recent stories and gossips from her.
it’s no wonder satoru instantly clicked with her; if it isn’t your mother you’re gossiping with, it would usually be that cheeky sorcerer instead. he’s a great listener after all, his reactions are priceless to you.
you move over to stand next to your mother and decide to help her out with cutting up the veggies. satoru starts to search the area in hopes to find an apron for himself, though was quickly interrupted by the gruff voice of your dad echoing through the house;
“satoru, c’mere, boy! help an old man out.”
you were a bit surprised that your dad was specifically asking for satoru to go help him (your mom as well; however she knowingly snickers afterwards).
you can’t remember the last time your father had directly asked help from someone he barely knew. sometimes he wouldn’t even ask your mother or you for help. that’s how stubborn your dad is.
or, was — satoru’s an exception, it seems like.
your boyfriend was also a bit stunned — though not in a bad way at all. the corners of his lips curl up in a fond smile, his blue eyes shining ever so brightly due to the feeling of being needed and accepted in this household. his beloved’s household.
it felt like he had achieved all he wanted in life — hell, satoru was ready to risk it all and ask for your hand in marriage right then and there; that’s how joyous and confident this moment made him.
“coming, sir!” satoru calls out. you could’ve sworn his voice cracked a tad bit, however you decide not to comment on it. your boyfriend turns around with the biggest grin on his face and quickly goes to stand between your mother and you.
one of his hands rests on your waist, the other on your mom’s shoulder as he places a sweet kiss to the crown of your head. a rush of warmth surged through his body as he saw you look up at him with those captivating and pretty eyes, making satoru feel even more content than he already was —
“i’ll be right back. if you ladies need a helping hand, just give me a holler.” satoru says and smoothly steals a kiss on your cheek before hurrying towards your father, whose voice sounded from the bathroom.
there was a spring in his step. a positive change in his already ethereal looks as you watch him disappear from the room. you shake your head and chuckle at satoru’s excitement. you knew exactly what he was feeling, because you felt the same once you realised just how fast your parents seemed to accept and approve of him;
relieved, comfortable and happy.
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neo-nomatrix · 10 months
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(My) Nuisance
Hobie brown x reader
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word count: 964
find the rest of the mini series here
synopsis: You thought you hated Hobie, but for some reason you’re starting to like him just as much as you like Spiderman.
a/n: (maybe too much) british slang used
You hate your next door neighbor. No, no you loathe your next door neighbor. You think he is the worst person to possibly exist. His stupid flat decorations, his loud punk-rock music blasting at unruly hours, the way he would come back to his flat at 4 am stomping his boots yelling with his friends about their latest anarchist protest. But you hate nothing more than the way he looks at you.
Everytime you try yelling at him he opens his door with the cheekiest grin on his face. While you’re standing there fuming he’s leaning against the door panel looking you up and down. The worst part is how much he tries to smooth talk you.
“I already told you how annoying your music is, no one wants to hear that at 3 am alright? Some of us have work in the morning,” you complain, smoke practically coming out of your ears.
“Oh c’mon love it’s not that bad. Don’t have to be such a tosser ‘bout it. It messes up that pretty face of yours,” he says.
“Are you daft? You’re the one keeping everyone up at night with your dumb guitar,” you roll your eyes.
“It’s not that big a deal sweetheart. Y’know i'm starting to think you’re making up rubbish just so you can talk to me more. I’ll admit it’s pretty cute but you could just ask me out,” he leans closer to your flushed face.
“I don’t fancy you if that’s what you mean,” you scoff.
“Not saying that. I’m saying if you wanna snog me so bad you could just say so,” he shrugs.
You could burst out laughing. Kiss him? That’s fucking hilarious.
“You’re joking right? i’d rather die.”
“I don’t believe in comedy, love,” he says.
“Of course you don’t,” you mumble as you storm off back to your door.
You’ve decided he is the worst person ever. He doesn’t deserve your efforts and time.
You set your keys down and fall into bed as you hear amp feedback and the sounds of Hobie strumming his guitar. You can’t help but roll your eyes. How could someone be so incompetent?
You reach your hand over to where the bed and the wall meet to grab your Spiderman plush. You hate to admit it because it’s kind of dumb but you’ve always loved spiderman. Ever since you were a little kid you collected posters, figures, pins, and merchandise having to do with the superhero. Even now, your walls are decorated in spiderman posters, you own spiderman clothing, and even printed your keys to have a blue and red spider web on them.
There was something so nostalgic to the vigilante and his style that you had to adorn your room with touches of blue and red. You thought spiderman was the embodiment of “cool.” From his suit to the way he acted around criminals to the electric guitar on his back. Sure, a guitar was the main thing you hated about Hobie but Spiderman did it better. He made it work in the way Hobie dreams of.
You wake up to the loudest knock on your front door you’ve ever heard. You immediately know it’s him. You try to ignore the blaring pounding coming from your door but it keeps going. You force yourself to get up and answer the door. You hope you can open it, yell at him, then go back to bed.
To your dismay the second you open the door Hobie places his hand on the top of the wood, stopping you from moving it anywhere else.
“What do you want this early?” you groan.
“It’s like 9 am, love. But anyway-” He cuts himself off before finishing his sentence. You’re too groggy to notice that he’s staring inside of your flat. His eyes search the walls and decor in front of him.
“So, I take it you like Spiderman?” He laughs.
“That’s none of your business,” you sigh, crossing your arms.
He pushes his way inside of your flat, moving around like he’s looking for buried treasure. He picks up memorabilia and smiles at them. He holds up a Spider-Punk figurine and turns towards you.
“Spider-Punk huh?”
“Don’t touch my stuff! You know this is technically breaking and entering,” you scold him, taking the figure out of his hand.
He puts his hands in his pockets and just smirks at you. That stupid smirk, displaying half of his teeth and perfectly showing his lip ring.
“What do you want from me, Hobie?” you question after placing the figure back on its stand.
“Jus- Just wanted to apologize for last night,” he starts.
“You mean this morning? We talked at 1 am, remember?” You say, passive aggressively.
“Right, whatever. You’re… You’re right,” he exhaled, “I shouldn’t be blasting my music that early. It’s inconsiderate and rude to the people in my vicinity,” he breathes.
In the time you’ve known him you don’t think you’ve ever heard him say sorry. You’re taken aback, did he really apologize? And did he sound genuinely sorry?
“Oh, oh uhm thanks,” you sat, still skeptical a camera crew would come out laughing saying this whole thing was a prank.
“I wanted to see if you maybe wanted to come to my show tonight? We could get dinner after or whatever you want,” He scratches the back of his neck, he’s nervous.
“I’d like that, I guess,” you reluctantly say.
“Wicked. Uhm, i’ll be leaving then. Sorry again,” he says. Shooting finger guns at you and making his way out the door.
You smile, maybe, just maybe, Hobies getting to you. As he’s leaving you could swear you see some blue and red material with spikes on it slipping out of his pocket.
7K notes · View notes
valeskafics · 2 months
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"I Love Star Wars" - Frat!Rafe Cameron x Nerd!Reader
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a/n: from an anon request for rafe with a nerdy reader hehe. i borrowed from some iconic movie insults, so kudos if you recognize them! 🩷
Summary: Rafe makes some startling realizations about himself and his likes when you put him in his place.
Word Count: 4,735
Rating: 18+, MDNI
TW: afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, idk bullying maybe kinda sorta, rafe being gross, fingering, tiddy succin, degradation kink, mommy kink if you squint, choking, hair pulling, p in v sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink if you squint, reader is coded to have a big booty
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Outer Banks characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷
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Rafe knows he’s in trouble the first time he meets you. It’s the day before his final report for his Communications class is due and he’s barely even started on it. He figures he’ll be able to get away with bullshitting some sort of speech, he just needs to hit the library and find one to emulate. So, he shows up, wearing his hockey sweatshirt, a pair of gym shorts, his SnapBack sitting backward on top of his head, walking into the campus library as if he owns the place. That’s when he sees you, the lone soul in this shitty, depressing place at this hour. He saunters over to you, trying to read your nametag, but realizes you don’t in fact have one. You look up at him with a polite smile, eyes shining behind your glasses.
“Can I help you find something?” Fuck, he thinks he’s already found it. After a moment, he nods, asking you if you can lead him to the Communications books. You nod, gesturing for him to follow you, “It’s kinda hard to find, just follow me.”
Your hoodie is fairly unassuming, but he can hardly tear his eyes away from how your ass fills out those jeans as you walk. God damn, he’s going to be thinking about this for weeks. You come to a stop, and he’s so immersed in checking you out that he almost plows right into you. You turn to him, pointing toward the next aisle over.
“It’s organized alphabetically by title, so you should be okay. The librarian’s left for the night, so it’s just me. I can’t special order anything, but I can check out your rentals.”
“It’s just you?” Rafe questions, resting his forearm against the shelf behind you, leaning in close as he whispers, cocking an eyebrow, “So what happens if I’m feeling a little… Naughty, Miss Librarian?”
You narrow your eyes, pursing your lips slightly as you reply, “We don’t have an adult books section. I’d suggest you go home and rub one out, frat boy.”
Rafe’s jaw drops as you walk away, though he continues to admire that ass as you disappear from sight. He sighs to himself before turning to the shelf, frowning as he tries to figure out what book is going to fucking help him finish this assignment. Unable to narrow it down, he grabs the three he thinks he needs and shuffles over to the counter, holding them out to you. 
You snatch them out of his hands before declaring, “You can only check out two books at a time. Pick one to put back.”
He eyes you up and down, a sly smile playing on his lips, “Is that a policy or your personal rule, Miss Librarian?”
“It’s school policy.”
“Well that’s no fun,” Rafe leans in, grinning at you, eyes sparkling with amusement, “You look like you could use a little more fun in your life, don’t you think?”
“How about I go throw myself in front of the campus bus? That would be more fun than this conversation,” you retort, tossing one book aside, scanning the other two before shoving them back in his hand, “Thanks. Don’t come again.”
Rafe is taken aback by your hostility for a fleeting moment, but he recovers quickly, questioning, “I think you’re just trying to act tough, but these bitchy little comments? They just tell me that you want me. You’re playing hard to get. I respect the hustle.”
“Delusions of grandeur are usually indicative of a deeper psychological problem.”
“You always this unfriendly?”
“I don’t know, are you always this naggy?” You counter, “Anyway, we’re closing.”
“Aw, I know what it is,” he nods sagely, the sight of which has you ready to smack him, “You’ve never been hit on by a hottie like me before. That’s what’s got you all worked up. Not used to the rich, preppy, sexy athletes.”
“Well, I’m not exactly your demographic’s type,” you scoff, gesturing to your glasses, “Now can you leave?”
“You’d be surprised. Dorky chicks like you turn me on too.”
“Interesting. However, I don’t have a thing for frat boys. Bye!”
Rafe is unceremoniously shoved out of the library, the door slammed in his face. He lets out a huff of annoyance. Did you just… Blow him off? What the actual fuck? No one gets to blow him off like that! This is ridiculous. And why does he feel so amped up after you were such a bitch to him? It was oddly… Exhilarating. He walks back to his room to finish his studying, his mind consumed with thoughts of the girl who insulted him at the library.
Though he doesn’t actually see you again until the following semester begins.
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It’s the first day of classes, and Rafe can hardly believe his luck. There you are, sitting up in the front row. You look just as good as he remembers. You’re wearing those same skinny jeans, your hair tied up, glasses framing your pretty face, and a Star Wars tee shirt. It’s weirdly hot to him in a way he can’t explain. He knows that you’ve written him off as some dumb jock frat boy, but all this time he’s had you on his mind. There’s an edge to you. Something he wants desperately. 
So, he comes and takes the empty seat right beside you. You do your best to ignore him, completely avoiding eye contact, typing away on your laptop. But from what Rafe can see? You’re just typing gibberish. 
So, he leans over slightly, keeping his voice low and smooth as he tries to make polite conversation, “Hey. So, we’re in this class together. What’s your major?” 
He doesn’t receive a response, only your withering glare. Rafe wants to guess that you’re a History or Psychology major, but he’s proven wrong at your clipped response.
“STEM. And let me guess, you’re…” You give him a condescending smile, “Communications.”
“Close,” Rafe grins, “Business Management. You always so judgmental?”
“You always so annoying?”
“Depends who I’m talking to,” Rafe replies, a definite hint of flirtation as he does, “Anyway, you’re pretty hot for a nerd, you know that? Those glasses are really doing it for me, shorty.”
The nickname makes you grimace, but you still answer in a biting tone, “Thanks. I’m really living my suburban teenage fantasy right now, having some alpha male douchebag call me a nerd while simultaneously hitting on me.”
That big dumb grin on his face fades slightly, an irritated edge to his voice as he replies, “You know what you look like with those glasses? You look like a nerd. Though you’re kinda cute when you’re not acting like a little brat.”
“I’m sorry, I forgot the great Rafe Cameron has blessed me with his attention. Let me offer a blood sacrifice in your honor.”
Rafe eyes you up and down as you roll your eyes and pull out your notebook. Why is he so fucking interested in you? He doesn’t understand it. Why are you all he can think about? Every time you insult him, he can’t help but want to prove himself to you even more.
“You know, that body though. It’s unbelievable.”
Your eye twitches in annoyance, “Excuse me?”
He leans in, intent on provoking you even further, “Yeah. Didn’t you hear me, babe? Those curves really got me going, shorty.”
“You’re a pig,” you reply dryly, “And what do you think, you’re Justin Bieber or something? No one says ‘shorty’ anymore, white boy.”
“Damn, calm down. Did I touch a nerve by calling you out on that ass? I mean, you can’t blame a man for noticing. Those jeans don’t lie and, baby girl, you’re thicc. I’m lovin’ it.”
“You’re disgusting. Calling you a pig is an insult to pigs.”
Rafe watches as you scowl, looking around for another seat. However, you don’t appear to find one, sitting back down dejectedly, burying your face in your hands.
“So, tell me, princess. Is all that junk in the trunk natural? Because it’s gotta be the Eighth Wonder of the World if it is.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No, it’s phenomenal.”
It’s lucky that the lecture starts right then and you’re able to ignore Rafe and begin scribbling away at your notes. Judging by how tense your body is, he thinks he was about three comments away from giving you an aneurysm. You’re so focused on your coursework that you don’t even notice the way he stares at you, unfocused as his gaze wanders the expanse of your body. The way your glasses frame your eyes, bits of hair falling in your face… Everything about you excites him.
Rafe snaps out of his dreamy state when you raise your hand, answering a question the professor has asked. That’s when he learns your name, committing it to memory. And fuck, your voice? You sound so goddamn smart when you give your answer. And when you’re not busy insulting someone? It’s so… 
Pretty.
When class ends and you’ve shoved your belongings in your bag, Rafe calls out to you, resting a hand on your shoulder, not firmly enough to hold you in place, but enough to get your attention. You let out a groan of frustration, glancing at him as you question what the fuck he wants.
“Listen, I know I was being a dick earlier-”
“At least you’re self aware.”
“Look, just listen to me for a second! Maybe I came on a little strong at first-”
“A little?” You repeat, giving him an incredulous look, “You talked about my ass for like five minutes!”
“Well, I mean, there is a lot to talk about-”
His cock twitches in his jeans at the way you narrow your eyes, glaring up at him, “And this is your big apology?”
Rafe shrugs, leaning in, a dirty little smirk playing on his lips, “Listen, princess. I’m a bit of a jerk sometimes. You’re gonna have to get over it.”
“Why am I gonna have to ‘get over it’ when I can just avoid you?”
He continues following you as the two of you leave the lecture hall, easily keeping up with your brisk pace due to how stupidly long his legs are, “Yeah, I mean, you can. But you could also just accept that you’re hot and guys are gonna comment on it. You’re obviously not used to having a dude be as interested in you as I am. I can tell.”
“Do you not have anything better to do? Like some sorority girl to fuck or a kegger to attend?”
“Hey, I like a challenge.”
“So if I start being nice to you, you’ll leave me alone?”
Rafe arches a brow, “Uh, I mean-”
He doesn’t bother to hold back his laughter as you clasp your hands together, batting your eyelashes at him in an exaggerated manner, your voice high-pitched and shrill, “Ooo, Rafey, you look sooooo hot today, like, oh my God, I can’t even.”
“Damn, you’re sarcastic. That’s really hot.”
You shake your head, dropping your skateboard on the ground, another surprise, “Look. Let’s get something straight. I’m not your ‘bae’. I’m not your ‘shawty’. I’m not even going to be your friend. So take a hint and get lost.”
He watches you skate away, your middle finger high in the air, the gesture no doubt aimed toward him.
Damn, you’re something.
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Upon asking around campus, Rafe learns a lot about you. You’re a physics and chemical engineering double major with a minor in English lit. You’re on the robotics team, you love Star Wars, and you collect old school Marvel comic books. He commits every single thing about you to memory, mind consumed by thoughts of you. That sassy mouth, the way you stand up to him without a second thought. He’s so used to being flocked by people like Topper and Kelce and Sophia who listen to whatever he says, never challenging him. Never calling him out on his shit. You’re so different.
He sees you in the quad the next day, passing out flyers for a position being open on the robotics team, wearing a Star Wars tee shirt. Great, a conversation starter. He approaches you, confident with a huge smile on his face.
“Oh God,” you mutter, a tension headache already incoming at his mere presence.
“I love Star Wars.”
“Really?” You drawl, “What was your favorite?”
“The one one with the, uh, little fuzzy guys. The teddy bears.”
“Ewoks.”
“Sure. Anyway, can I get one of those flyers?”
You scoff, shaking your head, “No. Absolutely the fuck not.”
“Aw, come on,” Rafe whines, giving you what he’s sure is his most adorable smile, “It can’t be that difficult to get a flyer, shorty.”
“You? Interested in the robotics team? I call bullshit. So no.”
“What, so I’m not good enough for your team? You’re being racist now, shorty.”
You give him an annoyed glare before blurting out, “You’re white! I literally cannot be racist to you!”
“Reverse racism.”
“We have a minimum GPA requirement of 3.2 and I’m pretty sure you’re under that,” you reply, giving a passing student a flyer, “What’s the SAE and hockey team requirement? 2.0? Yeah, no. Bye.”
“C’s get degrees, girl! I’m busy focusing on hockey and partying and my girls.” He can see how annoyed you’re getting and decides to ramp it up a notch, “So, my charms finally getting through to you? Finally gonna admit you’re into hot alpha athletes?”
“You’re so not an alpha. You’re a sigma. At best.”
Rafe’s jaw drops slightly at your response, “Wha- What do you mean at best?! And what the hell is a sigma?? You’re just making stuff up now!”
“Aren’t you the SAE president?” You snark, “Sigma Alpha Epsilon?”
Rafe blinks, surprised at how much you know about him, before mumbling, “Oh, so that’s what it stands for…”
You shake your head, sighing to yourself, “You know, you’re so clueless that it’s almost adorable.”
He stares after you as you walk away, admiring your ass in those jeans.
“Wait, you think I’m adorable?? Babe, I think we’re really getting somewhere!”
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Is changing up his morning jog schedule and route to match yours pathetic? Yes, yes it is. 
Does Rafe care? No, no he does not.
As he comes bounding up to you, looking almost like some sort of overgrown puppy, you give him an annoyed glare, “Rafe.”
“I have a question for you.” He pauses, “Will you go on a date with me?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why not?” He almost whines, “I’m hot, you’re hot. It’s a great match. You know I’m right.”
“Nice try, Casanova, but no thank you.”
The two of you come to a stop by the water fountain, and you can practically feel him undressing you with his eyes as you lean forward to fill your water bottle. Dammit, are you going to have to stop wearing leggings for your run? Jesus, this guy is obsessed with your ass.
“Why the hell not? What’s wrong with me?”
You glare at him, the anger in your eyes making his stomach twist in anticipation, his cock straining against the fabric of the basketball shorts he’s come out to jog in. He watches you inhale sharply through your nose before you begin to speak.
“I think… No. I am positive that you are the most unattractive man I have ever met in my entire life. In the short time I’ve known you, you’ve demonstrated every loathsome characteristic of the male personality, and even discovered a few new ones. You’re physically repulsive, intellectually stunted, morally reprehensible, vulgar, insensitive, selfish, stupid.” Just as he thinks you’ve finished and is about to reply, you continue, “You have no taste, a lousy sense of humor, and you smell. You’re not even interesting enough to make me sick.”
Rafe is rendered silent for a long moment, staring at you with wide eyes before he finally replies, “Holy shit. I’d ask where all that came from, but it’s more fun trying to figure out for myself. I’m not gonna lie, this shit is turning me on, shorty.”
You look at him, the shock and abject horror on your face being worth a million dollars as you question, “You… I… You’re getting off on this?!”
“A little,” he answers honestly.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” You scowl, turning to jog in the other direction, “Jesus fucking Christ!”
“Wait, come back, shorty! I wanna hear more of the mean things you have to say about me! I’ve never been this hard in my life, wait up!”
“Oh my god, you’re disgusting!”
“I love it when you talk dirty, keep going, baby.”
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Rafe finally makes some sort of progress with you one night when he comes to the library to pick up a book for the assignment he’s working on in one of his classes. As usual, he’s about to make a beeline over to you, but he sees that you look more stressed out than usual, eyes watering slightly. He frowns, coming closer, wanting to do nothing more than wrap you in his arms and fix whatever it is that’s bothering you. To take you away somewhere, to treat you like a princess. He watches as the head librarian rails into you about something, your lower lip trembling slightly as you nod, mumbling your apologies.
“What’s happening?” He whispers, approaching you.
“Nothing,” you mumble, wiping at your eyes quickly, doing your best to ignore your boss’s screaming.
Rafe knows it’s not nothing. And so, he turns to the librarian, mouth set in a firm line.
He’s never been one to play knight in shining armor before. But for you? He’s ready to take on the world. You watch in astonishment as Rafe tells your boss that she’s making a mountain out of a molehill, that every time he’s come into the library, you’ve been nothing short of professional and helpful. That you’re extremely intelligent and she should be ashamed of herself for being such a cranky old hag. You cover your mouth, doing your level best not to burst into laughter as she offers a half-hearted apology and scurries away.
“Damn,” you comment, “You really gave it to her.”
Rafe shrugs, “She deserved it. I don’t like seeing pretty girls cry.” He pauses before smirking, “Well, unless it’s me doing it.”
You roll your eyes, watching as he walks away. At the last moment, just before he’s about to leave the library, you call out to him.
“Hey, Rafe?”
He turns back, “Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
He beams at you, scratching the back of his neck before blurting out, “Maybe if you really wanna thank me, you can let me take you out on that date? One date, no strings. If you don’t like me, you can leave anytime.”
You think for a moment before nodding, “Okay.”
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“When you said I could leave anytime, you didn’t mention I’d have to jump into the middle of the goddamn ocean!”
Rafe smirks as you climb onboard the Druthers, pushing his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose, “Come on. I saw your Tinder profile. You said you love the ocean.”
“Yeah, from far away,” you reply snarkily, “Not in this boat! You know, statistically speaking, a whale could totally just whack us with its tail, we go flying, our bodies are never recovered-”
You’re cut off when Rafe leans in and squishes your cheeks together, a grin on his face as he teases you, “God, you’re a nerd.”
You roll your eyes, batting his hands away as the two of you walk over toward the bridge. You watch with slight interest as he unties the ropes and the two of you set sail. Rafe takes pride in showing you around the boat, and you have to admit, it’s kind of adorable how excited he is to be able to do this with you. The guy has even gotten a chilled bottle of Dom Perignon with some chocolate covered strawberries waiting for the two of you when you get a little bit further out to see. You watch him curiously over the rim of the flute you sip the expensive beverage from, and Rafe notices, his cheeks flushing slightly, though he claims it to be from a combination of the heat and the alcohol.
“You’re…” You trail off, “Not as horrendous as I thought you were. We’ve been sitting up here this whole time and you haven’t made one gross comment about my ass in this swimsuit.”
“Trust me, I may not have said anything, shorty, but I am looking-”
You burst into laughter, shaking your head, “I guess I gotta respect your honesty.”
“So,” Rafe questions, moving to sit closer to you, wrapping his arm around the backside of your seat, the ocean waves gently rocking the boat to and fro, the sun shining down on your skin, “What made you finally say yes?”
You look into those blue eyes, a smile playing on your lips. In truth, it was a lot of things. But you decide to tell him the main reason.
“What you did for me, with my boss? That was really cool of you. And you weren’t pushy about asking for a date after, so I figured I might as well give you a shot.” You pause before adding, “Don’t think it means I like you or anything, though.”
“Oh, no. We can’t have that. You might actually start being nice to me or something.”
You smirk, “Me? Nice to you? Not in a million years, puckhead.”
Rafe snorts out a laugh, leaning in closer to you, so close that if one of you moves even an inch, your lips will be touching, “Um, can I ask a question?”
“Do you mean ‘may’?”
He rolls his eyes, “Okay, Miss Librarian. May I kiss you?”
“Hm,” you pretend to think for a long moment, enjoying the desperation in his gaze, “Do you really deserve to kiss me?”
“I don’t know if anyone does,” Rafe murmurs, the tip of his nose brushing against yours, “But if anyone gets to, I want it to be me.”
There’s something so honest, so raw and vulnerable in his words, that you can’t resist. You pull him into a heated kiss, moving to straddle his lap. Rafe’s hands rest on the curve of your ass as he moans against your mouth, nipping softly at your lower lip, pleading for you to let him in. And, after teasing him a few seconds more, you do. Your arms wrap around him, your chest pressed flush against his, bodies warmed by the sun as you kiss passionately. Rafe’s hands slide under the fabric of your denim shorts, and he snickers to himself.
“Can’t believe you’re wearing a Darth Vader swimsuit.”
“Shut the fuck up,” you mutter in annoyance, nipping at his earlobe, making him giggle to himself even louder, “You wanted a nerd, you got one, frat boy.”
“I definitely want a nerd,” he mumbles, tossing your shorts aside, hands squeezing at the flesh of your ass.
You moan into his mouth, smiling into the kiss as you toss his stupid SnapBack aside. Sure, you’ve had a few drunken kisses at some high school parties, a few failed hookups, but nothing like this. You push Rafe down, your hands resting on his chest, unbuttoning his shirt, littering the exposed skin with kisses as you move further and further down to the waistband of his swim trunks. He watches with amazement as you mouth at his cock over the fabric, groaning as you tease him.
“You’re this hard already? And all we’ve done is kiss? Kinda pathetic, Rafe.”
“Fuck, I love it when you’re mean to me,” he moans, struggling to keep himself from bucking his hips against your face, “Love it when you call me out on my shit. Need you to keep me in line, ma. Gonna do that for me?”
“I’ll consider it.”
Rafe tugs at the straps of your swimsuit eagerly, eyes going wide when he sees your tits, lips immediately moving to wrap around one of your nipples. He moans against your soft flesh, his tongue caressing the smooth bud as you guide his hand toward the apex between your thighs. You tug at Rafe’s hair as he moves your swimsuit aside, burying two ring-clad fingers knuckle-deep inside your pussy. You let out a moan, the cool metal of his rings rubbing against your clit as you grind yourself down against him. Part of you thinks that Rafe might be getting off on getting you off, judging by the look on his face.
You smirk to yourself, squishing his cheeks together much as he did to you earlier, “Awww, is this getting you all excited, baby? Making me feel good?”
“Yeah,” he admits, groaning as he moves his fingers faster, watching you let out a shuddering gasp as he rubs up against that spongy spot deep inside you, “Fuck, ma, you’re so tight. Can’t wait to be inside you, oh my God…”
Your stomach tightens as you move your hips down against his fingers, his mouth moving to your other tit as he eagerly suckles at you. It feels so much better than your own fingers, than any stupid toy you’ve ever used, because when you get to the edge, he doesn’t stop. He keeps going, making you spill yourself all over his fingers. You watch with amusement as he pulls them out of you, eagerly licking the evidence of your arousal, moaning at your sweet taste. You don’t think you’ve ever felt more desired in your entire life than you do right now, with Rafe gazing up at you like you’re some sort of goddess. You move off of him, ridding yourself of your swimsuit, eagerly tugging at his trunks. Your eyes widen slightly at how long and girthy he is. Seeing the little smirk on his face, you immediately decide to humble him, grabbing him just hard enough to make him wince, but not enough to cause any real pain.
“Don’t get cocky.”
Rafe lets out a little whimper as you push him back onto the couch, nodding with a grin, “Yes, ma’am.”
He watches with amazement as you sink down onto him, your warm, wet cunt taking him in so fucking perfectly. Rafe has had sex before, sure, but nothing like this. He watches as you bounce on his cock, his hands squeezing at your ass, urging you on. You look fucking incredible. You give him a cheeky smile, one of your hands gently squeezing at his throat.
“You’re almost cute when you learn to shut the fuck up.”
Rafe laughs breathlessly, his eyes rolling back as you pull yourself up and sink back down onto him, your warmth enveloping him over and over, feeling so fucking tight around him. He feels his stomach tighten, your flesh so soft and supple in his palms, the noises the two of you make echoing throughout the stateroom aboard the Druthers.
“Will you be my girlfriend?” He manages to eke out as he bucks his hips up eagerly against yours, “I really like you, and uh, fuck, oh fuck, ma, that feels so good…”
“And what?” You taunt, slowing your movements, “Use your words.”
“I want you. I want you to keep calling me out. Putting me in my place,” he groans, “Want you to talk about all your nerdy shit with me. Wanna go to your robotics competitions. Want you to come to my hockey games wearing my jersey, be the one standing next to me at all my frat’s parties. Wanna kiss you when we graduated, oh fuck, babe, I’m cumming.”
“Then cum for me, baby,” you coo, whispering against his ear, “Be a good boy and fill me up.”
The both of you are sent reeling from how intense the sex was, minds buzzing with millions of things to say but no energy to say them.
You’re the one who breaks the silence, turning to give him a lazy grin, “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be your girlfriend, you fucking dork. Wear your jersey and shit.”
Rafe snickers, pressing his lips to yours, “Yeah? Well, thanks, nerd.”
The two of you burst into giggles, pouring yourselves another glass of champagne, continuing your first date aboard the Druthers.
The first of many more dates to come.
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euaphoru · 5 months
Text
𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇, 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇!
★ — contents ! explicit sexual content: jjk men as camboys featuring you! breeding link, toys, sweet!gojo, switch!geto, mean!toji, husband!kento? mentioned, pussy slapping, smacking, smut overall!
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ GOJO SATORU
camboy!gojo who is the type of person to be very welcoming and greeting when he invites you over to his place to join him, he had already set everything up and led you to where he had the monitor set.
camboy!gojo who immediately gets into his character and proudly shows you off, bent over his lap while squeezing his forearm while his other his spreading your lips and showing the viewers.
camboy!gojo who asks the chat if he should let you cum, after overstimulating you the entire time with his fingers and the brand new toys he used in you. The comments are being flooded with everyone saying to keep edging you but gojo could tell you weren’t able to keep up.
camboy!gojo who whispered praises in your ear, reassuring you to give him one more, “you’re doing such a good job for me,” and “looking so pretty with your makeup all ruined”, feeling your hand clawing at his arm, realizing your about to cum, “that’s it…cum all over my fingers, baby.”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ GETO SUGURU
camboy!geto who was actually pretty nervous about meeting up with you at your apartment until he got inside and saw how cozy it was, so many plants and shelf’s filled with books—full of smut of course, and your sage burning on an ashtray. He loved the decor but not as much as when he entered your room full of your toys, like some sort of collection you had for fun?
camboy!geto who started the business as a guy with a mask in most of his posts, continuing on from that then later going on in his career, taking of his mask later in the year. This was your first time seeing him in person and god did he look so fineee. You tried to compose yourself and led him to the bed that was placed infront of the monitor. He took the lead by kissing at your temple and gripping your ass, giving it a light snack.
camboy!geto who had you both strip naked and had you on top of him, making him lean against the headboard while he motioned you with your hips to ride him, when did he get so confident? You thought, speaking too soon like you always do, you hear him let out whimpers while the chat gets flooded with “awhhh’s” and “let us hear him moreee!”
camboy!geto who tries to bite his lip to hold himself back from making any other noises— making you slap him, “don’t be shy, let them hear hear you..” you gesture, you lift your hips up and down at his hard-on, making him groan at the feeling at your warm walls squeezing him. “f-feels too good! ‘need more, pleaseee, princess.”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ TOJI FUSHIGURO
camboy!toji who had no shame and remorse towards his girls, he would be such a filthy beast in bed and never gave you time to catch up with him. Everything he did was for his pleasure and his only. Although with the way you had your lips wrapped around his cock, he couldn’t help but be so sweet— not all the way though, he still loved to torment you.
camboy!toji who had you in a 69 position, forcefully making you suck on him by smacking your pussy whenever you tried to catch your breathe, distracting yourself by reading the comments or looking back at him over your shoulder. “Nobody told you to stop, do that shit one more time and i won’t let you cum at all tonight.”
camboy!toji who got upset with your demeanor and pushed you on your knees and shot hot ropes of his cum all over your face, some slipping down all the way to your breast making you lick his cum of your body while making eye contact with the camera infront of you while he rams his cock inside you.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ KENTO NANAMI
camboy!kento who was more professional and always did what his partner felt like, he didn’t like to have random girls wrapped around his cock— preferring his own girlfriend or wife being the one who was doing that.
camboy!kento who just started last month but blew up one night, people liking him for his voice and physic. His fans loved you the most though, whatever they put in the chat and asked you to do you would, making your view go up by ten percent and getting more subscriptions.
camboy!kento who loved when you would show the audience how much he would fill you up by opening up legs and watching his cum slip out your little pretty cunt, comments taunting him and asked if he had some sort of breeding kink— making him blush and step out of the camera.
camboy!kento who loved how he showed you off and how he didn’t care who watched, he mostly did it because it was a kink you had, voyeurism, but he secretly developed the same kink but he wouldn’t tell you.
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un-lawliet · 9 months
Text
“He Knows”
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— in which you’re avoiding Gojo and he wants you to tell him why.
(or i’m coping with rejection rn pls god help me)
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“You’re avoiding me.”
“Huh?!” You jump back, almost dropping your pen as you turn to see frowning Gojo Satoru staring down at you expectingly, the usually relaxed demeanour he wore crumbling in the slight dip in his brow.
It wasn’t a question, Gojo stated it as fact, and if you looked hard enough, the downwards tilt of his lips could tell you about his complete (and utter) disapproval in his conclusion.
“I have no idea what you mean.”
You were running, sprinting even away from your problems.
Avoid, avoid avoid.
You refused to let it come to this, cornered in a library with Gojo Satoru, a man you definitely were not avoiding, nope not at all.
“You.” Gojo leans down, capturing your eyes in his, “Are avoiding me.”
And you’re leaning back, in your seat, away from him. Attempting to create any distance between the pair of you, unable to stand the giddy rush of joy that the proximity generated.
A moment passed.
And then another.
And deep down you pleaded, with conviction similar to that of a desperate man crying out for God, that the floor would fall in, taking you with it and allowing you some leeway to escape.
Gojo cocks his head, blue eyes scanning your panicked face before he sighs and stands back up again, resuming his position of elevation before you.
“Why?” His voice lacked the sentiment of interrogation, he couldn’t find in himself to dwindle on anger, he missed you and he selfishly wanted you to know it, to feel guilt in your mistreatment.
“Gojo.” You started, moving your eyes away from his face to glare at the book your reading instead.
Were you sweating? You felt like you were. Oh God.
Jujutsu sorcerers were not supposed to fall for another, it was an unspoken rule shared between sorcerers.
An unspoken rule that constantly plagued your thoughts when you were near Gojo. And so, you decided confidently to yourself that you could easily get over this silly personal flaw. Surely it would be easy.
But Gojo isn’t an easy man, and falling out of love with him followed that damn trend.
At every turn of your head, your gaze found his, longing for him to catch your eyes and reassure you with his presence, boisterous, like how he handles everything. And at night, when you tossed and turned, the cruel Summer heat forcing you to wither in your bed, you wondered if he could ever dream of you like how you longed for him.
It was pathetic really.
And so yes maybe you were avoiding him.
But you were doing it with good intentions!
You weren’t about to burden him with your childish wish for his unreturned feelings. Not in this world, under these circumstances, not when he was already holding the weight of being the strongest.
“Is there something bothering ya?” Gojo paused, “Cause y’know you only have t’ ask, and I could take care of it.”
And you wanted to cry.
Because Gojo Satoru is loud, and unabashedly himself, but he cares in silence, through actions hidden behind a loud laugh and a cocky grin.
“No, no it’s nothing really.” You had to do something, to say anything.
“Nothing? I haven’t seen you in days Y/N.”
“I’ve just been busy…” You mumble, fidgeting awkwardly in your chair.
“Oh yea? With what? Reading?” Gojo scoffed, his shoulders dropping in poorly hidden exasperation.
Your cheeks burned as you nodded, unable to form words, “And missions too I guess.”
“I asked Yaga, you haven’t been on a mission since September.”
Fuck.
“Preparations for missions then.” You cringed at yourself, lowering your head in the shame of being caught in your own shitty lie.
“Come on Y/N cut the bullshit.” Gojo all but whines, “I know somethings off, I know you.” You look at him then, his shoulder slumped, and face pouting, and you felt horrible.
“It’s really nothing Gojo I swear.”
“See there!” Gojo jumped, his eyes wide with determination, a look you only ever see on him in the middle of a mission. “You called me Gojo, you never do that, it’s Satoru to you, just Satoru.”
“You’re upset because I’m not calling you by your first name?” You asked, unable to break eye contact with him.
“You use to call me Satoru.” He huffs, crossing his arms.
You had to get out of there, the fact that your confession was all but resting on your tongue scared you beyond words, and you moved to pick up your stuff.
Then you felt his hand touch yours and your froze.
“What’s going on inside that head of your Y/N.” He was so close, so, so close. You could feel the warmth of his chest that was almost pressed against your arm, “Please.”
And you crumbled, because your weak and you could never escape the way you felt when he was near you, how you could barley hold yourself back from leaning into his chest and breathing in his scent.
“Satoru.” You whispered, your confession hushed, your head down and eyes closed, “I think I like you.”
And silence.
Silence.
Silence
And you were running walking away, avoid, avoid, avoid, your feet moving fast, abandoning the books you had brought because oh my god you had just told Satoru Gojo that you liked him and that was stupid, you’re stupid, everything was stupid and-
You were pulled back into him, effortlessly turned around so that your face was in his chest, the sound of his chuckling encasing your shameful state.
“The fuck are you laughing for?” You protested, unsuccessfully trying to wriggle your way out of his embrace, his arms circling you close.
“You’re pretty when you’re embarrassed y’know?”
And you had to hold yourself back from punching him right then and there, because of course Satoru Gojo knew you liked him, of course he was teasing you.
Nothing can escape those damn eyes, and he’s smarter than he lets on.
“You’re such an asshole I hope you know that, as soon as I leave this room I am never speaking to-’
Your rambles were cut short when you felt a tiny kiss on your forehead, and you finally looked at him fully, only to see the softest expression on his face as he looked down at you.
“I think I like you too Y/N.” He winked, his hand tracing the indent of your spine as he pulled you back into a hug, rocking you gently.
And you hugged him back, finally allowing yourself the closure you had dreamed of for months.
End.
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feel free to leave a request !!
masterlist here <3
( authors note: do we all wanna hear a mini rant about how the girl i fucking adore just got a boyfriend and my heart is in SHAMBLES- anyway i wrote this to cope pls enjoy,,, i love u thank u for reading have a great day <3 )
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charliemwrites · 3 months
Text
Part 4 of Mafia!Price
There are many things to appreciate about your boss, but one of them is his respect for routine. You’ve gotten him on a schedule and now he seems happily beholden to it; appreciates your promptness with tea and pastries and morning “briefings” each day.
He’ll happily sit back in his big leather chair and listen to you chatter out his itinerary for the day. Meetings, reports, phone calls. Trips to the dock, now, bless him.
You try not to stare between glances at your tablet. For a rich bastard, he is unfairly handsome. Good taste in just about everything, classy and luxurious without being ostentatious. Old money vibes, for sure, though you know better than to do more than idly wonder. Helps that he’s also remarkably gentlemanly with you. You’re not one to buy into old stereotypes or gender roles, even the ones that benefit you — but you’ll take a chivalrous boss over your old one any day.
Besides, it’s not like he’s spouting off about what women should and shouldn’t be doing. Or trying to use you as an example of an “acceptable” working woman. So, yeah, you’ll indulge in the door-holding and offered arms.
“Alright, best for last — your reservation for Muse is tomorrow. The restaurant is twenty minutes from your penthouse, so Simon will be downstairs by 7:30.”
You check that off your to-do list as you continue speaking.
“Do you have a suit picked out yet, or should I order something? Green is in season and it would go nicely with your eyes.”
He hums; you glance up. Leaning back, one arm lax on the arm of his chair, black watch gleaming. The other is propped to press his index finger against his lips. Like he’s telling you to keep a secret. The corners of his mouth are tilted up.
Your tablet dings and thankfully distracts you from staring.
Oh, for the love of— the only person more inconsiderate than Philip Graves is his damn assistant.
“Is that the color you’re wearing, then?”
Will need to call later today — as if!
“Hm?” You ask, not having caught it.
He arches his eyebrows; ah, you must have been making a face again.
“Are you wearing green tomorrow?” He repeats.
You blink. Are you what?
“Tomorrow, sir?”
He nods, once. “To Muse, luv.”
When you continue to stare with pleasant obliviousness, his eyebrows furrow a bit.
“You do know one of those seats is for you, yeah?”
You press your lips together for a moment. Well… shit. You take it back. You take it all back. John Price is a terrible, horrible, awful man who is so rude.
“I do now.”
Across the office, you make wide eye contact with Gaz. He grimaces in sympathy and ducks his head, though it’s clearly just to hide his traitorous laughter.
“Of course you’re coming along.”
“Sir,” you say, pleasant and sweet, “remember when I first started here? And I told you that I’m not a mind reader?”
“Of course,” he answers. “You threatened to spit in my tea in the same breath.”
“Only if you told me to fetch it for you,” you correct, before continuing, “I feel you may need a reminder: I cannot read your mind. How was I supposed to know you wanted me to go with you?”
“‘S your job, isnit?” He replies. You give him a dark look; he puts his hands up with a chuckle. “My apologies love, I thought you’d be in my pocket next to my handkerchief. Like always.”
You set your hand on your hip, proper cross now.
“It’s outside usual working hours, sir. How could I have possible expected to be invited to your fancy man party?”
“‘Fancy man party’?”
“Well, there’s nothing for it, I’ll have to leave early tomorrow.”
You’re already tapping madly at your tablet, looking up a salon willing to do your hair and makeup. God knows what kind of meltdown you’ll have if you can’t get your eyeliner symmetrical.
“Do whatever you need to do, luv,” Price soothes, standing. “I really am sorry for the short notice.”
You wave him off, then pat his arm as he gently guides you towards the door. Absently, you comply, more focused on getting appointments set and rearranging your own schedule for tomorrow.
“I’ll make it work,” you promise, “I always do.”
You let him bring you all the way to your desk, lower yourself into your ergonomic rolling chair.
“I’ll let you know what color I’m wearing by… one o’clock. Yes?”
“Sounds great, luv.”
You glance at the clock. “Also you have a call with the KorTac Group in ten.”
He chuckles and taps your chin. “Cheers, luv.”
Simon is the one to pick you up Friday evening. You both pause in the lobby of your apartment complex, staring.
“You look lovely,” he says at the same time you ask, aghast, “what happened to your face?”
He’s got a dark bruises discoloring the skin around one eye. Clearly some ice has already been applied because the swelling is down, but it must be fresh because he didn’t have it yesterday.
He snorts. “My job happened.”
You tut. “I’ve got something for that but we need to get moving. Mr. Price said he needs some help with his suit.”
You grab his arm without hesitation, habit from any of your escorts or drivers always offering it to you. Usually you accept out of politeness, but tonight you could use the extra stability in your heels. Simon doesn’t seem to mind even though this is the first time you’ve done this.
He walks you to the car, holds the door for you. Sleek and spotless, a black Jaguar — your choice for the evening. You hum in delight at the warm interior as Simon slides into the front seat.
“Oh, thank you for the compliment, by the way,” you add as he pulls into traffic. “You look quite smart as well.”
He grunts, but you notice a bit of color to his ears in the passing streetlights. You smile to yourself and busy yourself with your tablet. Double checking the reservation confirmation, answering messages from Farah and Gaz, updating Price on your ETA.
The car stops at a luxury high rise just at 7. You hop out before Simon can get the door and receive a sharp look. He holds up a reprimanding finger; blink in surprise at the sternness of it.
“You pull that shite again and I’ll handcuff you to the door handle, miss.” He warns. “Making me look bad.”
You huff, amused, and take his arm again. “Don’t threaten me, Mr. Riley, I’m meaner.”
But you squeeze his thick bicep good-naturedly as he leads you into Price’s building. Your boss lives in the penthouse at the very top; Simon has to swipe a card for access. He’s also got a key to let you both in the door, holds it so you can enter first.
It’s all sleek and modern; not at all what you would expect of your boss’s more classical style. His office has a sort of 20s Hollywood vibe (gangster, you teased once) but clearly some interior designer was paid far too much for something out of a drab minimalist catalogue.
You don’t linger long, heels clicking on the polished floors.
“Sir?” you call.
“In here, luv.”
You grimace at the flight of stairs between you and the loft, but force yourself up them. The whole floor is the mater bedroom and it’s the size of your entire apartment. Walk-in closet, sectioned off lounge with a desk. His bathroom door is open, mirror fogged. It smells like soap.
“Bedroom to your right,” he calls.
You tip-tap in and your mouth instantly dries. Price is standing in the middle of the room, half dressed. Nothing unprofessional, no. He’s wearing slacks, a belt. But he’s also in socks, a white undershirt. No watch or rings or anything yet.
It feels oddly more intimate than it should. Your face warms despite yourself.
“E-evening, sir.”
He turns and you’re utterly unprepared for just how handsome he really is. Freshly groomed, hair trimmed and gelled, eyes bright.
“Well, aren’t you just a dream,” he rasps. “You’re stunning.”
You clear your throat, know that all the makeup in the world can’t hide how brightly you’re flushing. It’s pure politeness, he’s not looking at you with anything more than friendly appreciation. Mind out of the gutter, now.
“All the flattery in the world won’t save you if we’re late,” you manage, shaking yourself back into work mode. “So let’s see what we’ve got.”
You pick his shirt, a pocket hanky, his shoes. Tell him to get into those while calling Simon up the stairs. He’s there so fast you blink in surprise, then gesture him over. Sit him on an ottoman and extract the little bottle of makeup you’ve started keeping on hand for situations like this.
“Bullshite you had that in your purse,” he scoffs.
“You remember two weeks ago, when Soap came in with that bruise on his jaw?”
They told you it was a “disagreement” at the docks. You didn’t ask further, figuring it was some sort of bar brawl in that part of town. Rowdy boys.
“Ever since, I keep a couple minis on hand for you all.”
They’re so small that you just keep them in a pocket of your purse with the rest of your makeup and the tampons. Good for emergencies like this.
“You sure you’re not a mind reader?” Simon grumbles as you gently dab it over his face.
“How would being a mind reader even help in this situation,” you scoff, patting at it with your middle finger.
Price steps out of the closet with arms out. He’s picked a waistcoat as well that you hum in approval at.
“Which cufflinks are you wearing?” you ask, turning back to Simon. He’s sitting remarkably still and stoic — reminds you of a big dog trying to maintain some dignity while getting fawned over.
“The silver and diamond.”
You make a noise of disagreement. “The gold and onyx would go better.”
A pause. You sneak a glance and are relieved to see him smirking. “I’ll wear those then. Any opinion on a watch?”
You hum again, carding through your mental catalogue. “Oh! The Bulova you wore during that meeting with Kate Laswell. You remember?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He disappears into his closet again while you lightly blend in the last touches of Simon’s coverup.
“There we are, good as new!” You declare. “Oh, and here.”
You set a couple of ibuprofen in his palm as he stands. “For the inflammation. Take with water.”
“Yes, mum,” he mumbles.
You wince. “Sorry! I’m being overbearing, aren’t I?”
He blinks, then puts a hand up. “No, no. That wasnt — I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”
You don’t entirely believe him. Know that you can be a bit much when you’re on a time crunch. Especially for something like this — an important business meeting over fancy dinner. You feel like everyone’s appearance is riding on you; this is your job after all. One thing out of place and everything will fall apart and it’ll be your fault.
“Simon, go take those,” Price orders from behind.
You turn as he approaches, a similar apology all set on your tongue. Instead, he gives you a sheepish smile and offers the cufflinks.
“Bloody useless with these,” he explains. “So unless you want to spend fifteen minutes losing respect for me…”
You laugh, amused by the idea of your hyper-capable boss struggling with a bit of jewelry that cost as much as a week of work. You step in close to thread them through his sleeves, fingers nimble and sure.
“You’re not wearing cologne?” You ask, surprised.
Don’t even realize how that might sound until he arches an eyebrow at you.
“Thought you might have an opinion on that too,” he replies. “And you haven’t steered me wrong, yet.”
He shows you his modest, but impressive collection of colognes. You pluck up one, sniff, and make a face, eyes watering a bit. It’s mostly full; clearly one he doesn’t wear often and you’re grateful for it.
“That bad, eh?”
“Sir, why?” You lament, putting it back.
“Gift from an ex,” he explains.
You store that tidbit of information away for further examination. The idea of your boss in a romance. Right now you’ve got a task to focus on.
“Did they hate you that entire time?” You wonder.
He snorts. “Maybe.”
You shake your head and pick a different one. Blink in surprise and sniff again. Feel your stomach flip.
“That one?” He asks when he notices you hesitate.
“No,” you say a little too quickly, setting it down. This is a business meeting, you can’t afford to be distracted by how he’ll smell with that on his skin.
You settle on one that doesn’t make your head dizzy and your panties shamefully damp. Still feel a bit like you’re shooting yourself in the foot, though. He’s going to smell sinfully good regardless.
You leave Price to his finishing touches and have Simon help you down the stairs. Check through the notes you hurriedly collected when you realized you’d be attending this dinner.
Price comes down too soon for your poor, stupid heart. Looks like something out of a magazine or a novel or a movie or… just too good to be real, really.
“Pass inspection?” He asks.
“Barely,” you tease.
His eyes do that thing where they smile more than his mouth; how you know it’s genuine. You try not to fluster, zero in on his tie, a little crooked and loose.
“Goodness, sir,” you murmur, stepping in close. Yeah, you were right. That cologne is going to be a personal challenge all night. “How did you get along before me?”
“With bad cologne and shitty ties, apparently,” he chuckles.
You grin despite yourself, getting it secure and centered, before smoothing his vest over it. Give him a once over. Feel your stomach flip again.
“If I may say, sir, you look handsome,” you offer quietly.
“Should hope so,” he replies, voice dipping in a way that’s detrimental to the state of your panties. “You dressed me.”
You hum, reach for your usual dry, sharp humor. “I have great taste.”
Instead of scoffing, he hums in agreement. Something flickers through his eyes that you don’t dare allow yourself to daydream on.
Simon, bless him, clears his throat and draws your attention. You check the clock above the stove.
“Ah, we need to get going. I can’t walk fast in these heels.”
You slip your arm automatically into Price’s and try not to obsess over how well you two fit together.
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lundenloves · 10 months
Note
DAD SIMON AND THE 141 VISITING TO CHECK THE KID OUT FOR THE FIRST TIME PLAPSSLSLSPSLSLSK AND HE GETS SO JEALOUS WHEN OTHERS HOLD HIS SWEET BABY PATOOTIE PRINCesss
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↳ no warnings | f!reader | 1.6k
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Anon, I may have strayed from your original thoughts a little. I hold my hands up. At this point, he has been back and had time with her already this is just 141 meeting her. And it's very? Thought-provoking? Possibly not how you imagined? Alas, voila.
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Having a newborn allowed for zero quiet. Nothing of the sort was even imagined, sleep was out the window and tiredness was the new trend. It became tougher when Simon had to go back to work, leaving you behind with a long apology and his credit card. What was the card for? You weren’t sure, but made sure it was used like fuck. £17.32 on McDonald’s delivery didn’t seem as painful with his money.
And that’s exactly what you were doing, happily. Baby sleeping on your almost bare chest with a haul of food around you in bed. It was only seven but you had no reason to be up and about, and the reality tv wasn’t going to catch up on itself.
In fact, you were about to reach the episode climax of Love Island. Someone had been mugged off and the producers were keen on making a drama of it, issuing a re-coupling. But. Right before you could skip the credits and fast-track to the next episode, the bedroom door swung open and you screamed. Waking your daughter who naturally began to cry.
"Fucking hell." You frowned at Simon who had quickly shut the door behind him upon seeing you. He wasn't due back till tomorrow. "Scared me.” The scold in your voice was one he ignored, picking up a milk-stained shirt from the floor.
“Put something on, christ.” His voice gruff as he shrugged his jacket off and reached for another t-shirt after wearily tossing the other back to the floor, holding it out. “What, Me?” Black-painted eyes narrowed at you upon holding his child out to him, asking for a trade.
“No. The other person in the room.” You deadpanned, widening your eyes in silent effort for him to take her. “Yes, you.” He did as told, looking down at his daughter blankly. “What’s the rush anyway.”
Although, your question was answered by a loud echo of laughs from downstairs. “All of them?” In reference to the only three men it could be.
“I didn’t agree.” He met your eyes, holding the baby back out to you for the brief second you passed him. Sauntering out to the hallway before he had called your name stiffly, eyes pleading relief of the absolute fucking threat that was his baby. “Take her.”
“You’re fine.” You waved a hand, walking downstairs with him reluctantly following.
It was a shame really, you couldn’t help but snort at the way he held her so high up his chest. “Don’t let Johnny hog her.” Was the only instruction you gave, wandering through to the kitchen where his unit were stood.
“Alright?” The Scot rubbed your shoulder in greeting, “Solid birth n’ all that?” His brows furrowed in genuine care although the question was worded oddly.
“Solid. Johnny.”
He tsked, clutching a hand to his opposite bicep. “Tends to be like that, ae.”
“Speaking from experience?”
He laughed although his eyes fell from yours to over your shoulder. Price held his hand on your back in acknowledgment, his eyes softening with a nod your way. “Christ.” He muttered at the sight in Simon’s arms, taking his hand back and removing his hat. “Congratulations.”
Gaz wrapped an arm around you, leaning his head atop of yours on his shoulder. “It’s mad.” He said more to himself than anyone else, catching eyes with Soap who for once was lost on what to say.
Simon’s eyes were stuck on the baby in his arms, refusing to look up and see the group reaction. Her small hand reached upward, and his finger met her halfway, face unchanged as she wrapped her hand around it. No one said or did anything, only Price who took a step forward to pat the lieutenant's shoulder. The moment was tender, and understood by everyone as such a thing even by Johnny who crossed his arms over his chest and contrastingly pout his bottom lip out to you. “You wanna hold her?” You spoke to him, crossing the space to Simon who had finally looked up. 
“Go on, then.” He pushed his jacket off, hanging it on the back of the kitchen chair. Simon’s eyes met Soap’s, a look of trust, threat and relief spread across his face when you had prompted him to hand her over. “Just a wee thing, ae?” He comfortably took her from Ghost, gently bouncing her and smiling when she had cooed.
“Tiny.” Gaz added, looking to Simon who shifted in his spot - looking around the room, finding comfort in anything other than the tiny being. He was still so unsure of himself. Arms crossed together over his chest in anxious replacement of the tac vest he would usually slot his thumbs into. “Fresh to the world.” 
“Five weeks old.” You looked at Gaz. “Brand. New.”
He shook his head at the idea of a baby, looking to Price who was subtly enough fixated on his lieutenant. “How’re you doing, Simon?” He asked firmly, in a tone Simon wouldn’t ignore or sigh at, one he recognised as important. A tone of order.
“Fine.” He kept it brief, locking eyes with Price who nodded slowly. 
It was hard to read Simon. Period. Even after years being with him, you still couldn’t predict the way he was feeling or what he was going to say about a situation. He distanced himself from his daughter the first few days, intentionally waiting until you woke to sort her out instead of facing himself and his past in the form of the harmless baby.
His allowed paternity leave wasn’t granted extension of more than a week, therefore he left you. And admittedly, although he wouldn’t ever say it, he was glad to get some time away. It had only been a week and he was already itching to be alone, no words you spoke could comfort him. Only the mindless living of a deployment. His desired remedy. 
Ghost was dead silent that whole mission. The unit knew why, although they were tightly instructed by Price to keep their mouths shut. Not to even ask about the kid. So they didn’t, not until today, when it was brought up by the man himself. “Ask about the kid, then.” He said gruffly, unlacing his boots and stomping his feet wide of each other, eyes darting between the three men opposite him.
“She alright, yeah?” Soap asked, receiving a dull nod. 
“We’d love to meet her sometime.” Price continued cautiously, looking to Simon who then nodded, eyes dropping to his boots. There was a moment of silence before he had spoken up in answer to Price, elbows rest on his knees, hands clasped together and rubbing against his mouth. “You don’t live too far from base do you?”
“An hour.” He cleared his throat, “I live an hour away.” 
“We could stop by,” Price was the one to suggest it, dipping to reach a bag behind Soap’s drawer. “This is, from, us.” He rubbed the back of his neck, holding the small gift bag out to Ghost who only looked up at it. 
“I’m going home tonight.” He said matter of factly. “Just.” A sigh. “Tail me and hand it in to her, she’ll appreciate it better than I will.” Soap smirked at Simon’s falsified reluctance, a hidden invite into his lieutenant's domestic life was on the table and of course he jumped at it. 
And you? You knew Simon had given a skeleton of an invite. It was obvious. 
So now, as your daughter had been passed to Price from Gaz, it felt oddly comforting to you. For Simon, you couldn’t tell as much from the way he was constantly sighing and moving in his spot - obviously discomforted by the idea of his unit being in such an intimate space of his but it was blown over by the end of the short visit. “She’s going to be tall.” Price tilted his head at the baby, thumb swiping across her small arm.
“Oh aye.” Johnny nodded, nudging Simon who stared down at her. “Think she’ll have your eyes?” His efforts granted a shrug from the man next to him.
“The colour keeps changing, but,” You caressed her head in Price’s arms, “They are his shape.” The tone of your voice warming Simon enough for the thought of a smile, the side of his lip curling just enough. 
Gaz nodded to a bag Soap had left on the counter, “There’s some stuff. We didn’t get much time.” He reached for it, holding it out to you. The purpose of the trip.
“And there’s a card with some money.” Johnny added, “See yous’ round the New Year for the wee yin.” The bag had generic baby gifts inside, although it swelled your heart to think of three large military men shopping around for each thing inside
And the card was a treasure in itself, one you would certainly keep, handing it to Simon so you could hug Gaz and Soap, receiving a kiss to your cheek from Price after taking the baby back. “Maybe see you lot closer to Christmas?” You asked, bouncing your daughter when she had begun to stir.
“Course.” Price nodded to Simon, following the other two out the door. You heard them talking about the baby from the threshold, watching as they piled into their respective cars and pulled off with waves and a single salute from Soap. Because, Soap.
Simon sighed once the door was shut, looking down at you. There was something between warmth and sympathy in his eyes, wrapping an arm around the back of your neck and kissing your temple. “You putting this up?” He mumbled, holding out the card before pressing his thumb and pointer finger together against his daughter’s tiny feet in sudden affection. 
“On the mantel for now, probably.” You rubbed his arm, following him through to the living room. 
There was new lightheartedness around him after they had left. Like having his unit meeting his daughter was somehow a weight that had finally been shrugged off after the fact. Even prodding a few more kisses than you would usually receive from him. His brain worked in mysterious ways, although you were not complaining. 
Not now anyway.
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simon 'ghost' riley taglist: @vamppxncess @freakonfilm @crowbird @misshoneypaper @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @abbugadu @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkjoequinn @gressseyy
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pochipop · 3 months
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#LOVE AND DEEPSPACE !! ♡ — HOW I CRAVE YOU IN THE MORNIN' (RAFAYEL X READER).
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#. synopsis! — rafayel doesn't really like mornings, but heaven knows he likes you .
#. characters! — rafayel.
#. warnings! — none .
#. word count! — 1.3k .
#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @hhoneypop (moodboards) .
#. others! — navigation & masterlist .
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Rafayel has never been a morning person. He likes to watch the occasional sunrise if he wakes naturally to catch it, but heaven knows he’s loath to pull himself out of bed before he feels good and ready. You, on the other hand, don’t tend to have the luxury of sleeping in until whenever you please. The life of a Deepspace Hunter often requires early starts, and now that you’ve woven your life so tightly between the threads of Rafayel’s, he’s seldom excluded from the harsh ring of your alarm coercing you out of bed, out of your dreams of sweet nothings, and into the real world (which is often much less pretty.)
You don’t even have to open your eyes to know that Rafayel is already pouting at the mere thought of your departure, and your suspicions are confirmed when he snakes his arms around your waist, groaning.
“Baby,” he mutters, “don’t go, the bed gets so cold when you leave.”
You sigh.
“Have to,” you murmur, still half asleep. “Work.”
“Call in sick.”
“I’m not sick,” you answer, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “You know my work is important for more reasons than one, Rafayel.”
“I do know,” he sighs, though it’s clear he’s less than happy about agreeing.
In fairness, you’re not particularly happy about this either. You love your job, worked hard to get it and climb the ranks within it, but man, sometimes you wish it were possible to pay the bills with currency earned cuddling in bed with the man nuzzling into your neck like a kitten. 
“Then don’t ask me to call in sick,” you laugh, turning your head to press a soft kiss to his warm temple.
He groans again, though you know he appreciates the affection.
Gently and with great reluctance, you pull yourself from Rafayel’s embrace, though you can’t help but take a moment to marvel at the way early morning rays of light filter through the curtains, playing on his delicate features. His eyes like marbled sunsets lazily find their way to you, still heavy with sleep, peering up at you in a mixture of love and discontent.
“You’re a menace to my sleeping schedule,” he grumbles playfully.
“Consider it payback for all the nights you’ve kept me up too late,” you answer jokingly, shrugging your shoulders.
“I’ll have you know, keeping you up at night is a vital part of our relationship,” he pouts, but there’s an unmistakable glint of mischeviousness in his tired gaze.
You giggle, knowing he’s joking (at least in part.)
“I’ll make it up to you,” you move closer, cupping his cheeks in your hands and leaning down to peck his lips. “Promise.”
“You better,” he mutters.
“Don’t I always?” You inquire, fingers feathering through his soft hair.
“Yeah,” he acknowledges in a semi-rare moment of complete sincerity from the man who often goes through the world half-wittingly. “You do.”
You smile, soft and warm, leaning in for another lingering kiss, savoring the warmth and familiarity of Rafayel’s touch. His arms reach up, wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer, as if he’s hesitant to let go.
“Be safe, okay?” He says.
“Always,” you nod.
Before, you might have mistaken his concern for a lack of trust in your abilities, but you’re well past the point of pointless misunderstandings. Rafayel may be an artist, and he might spin his words like golden threads from time to time, making you read between the lines, but your sincerest assessment of the moment tells you he’s said exactly what he means. He wants you to be safe, wants you to come home in one piece, and you let him steal another quick kiss before standing upright.
“I’ll be back before you know it,” you add, hoping it might soften the blow of your departure.
His playful pout returns.
“You seem to doubt the depth of my ability to lament over your absence,” he states.
“I don’t doubt it at all, but I’d rather you find more enjoyable ways to spend your day,” you laugh.
He sighs dramatically.
“Bring back something interesting from your adventure,” he suggests, a teasing smile pulling at his lips. “Maybe something I can crush up, turn into paint.”
“Need I remind you what happened the last time you used an oddly sourced item for pigment?” You ask incredilously.
Rafayel rolls his eyes.
“Need I remind you that that’s precisely how we met?” He counters.
“Still,” you sigh, “I’d much prefer you not be endangered by your paint. Stick with oils and acrylics for a while. For my peace of mind.”
“Is that concern I detect from you, my little hunter?” Rafayel grins.
“Of course it is,” you reply honestly. “You might be pretentious and obnoxious, but I love you. I’d never want you in harm’s way.”
His teasing smirk softens to a genuine smile at your sincerity, and he stands, taking a moment to stretch before reaching out to caress the curve of your jaw with the top of his index finger.
“Obnoxious and pretentious, huh?” He chuckles lightly. “Thank you for the glowing evaluation of my character, darling. But, because I do happen to love you as well, I’ll let that little dig slide, —and I’ll do my very best to stick to safe and traditional mediums, at least for the time being, just for you.”
You can’t help but smile at Rafayel’s good-natured reply. His gentle touch lingers on your jaw, and you lean into it, relishing in the softness of his affection.
“Very much so appreciated,” you answer amusedly. “I’ll consider it a personal victory if we can avoid any and all paint-related Wanderer incidents for the forseeable future.”
Rafayel gives a curt nod.
“A noble goal, my dearest hunter,” he says. “Now go forth and fell any pesky Wanderers intent on disturbing the peace of our humble city of high-class electronic developments, bringing back tales of wonder and triumph.”
Heaven knows he has to be the most dramatic man you’ve ever met, but you couldn’t imagine him being any other way.
You play along and give him a mock salute.
“Yes sir, at once.”
Rafayel stifles a laugh, clearly pleased by your participation in his theatrics. He thinks for a moment that this life he lives with you is nothing short of fantastical, —the kind of comfort he only dreamed of just years ago, and now here you are before him, like some kind of angel he’s terrified he might wake up to find was a figment of his deepest desires all along. But his worries are quenched by the way your lips slot so perfectly against his own as he leans in, kissing you sweetly.
“May the cosmic forces be ever in your favor, my love. Return not only with tales of triumph, but also interstellar souvenirs for my viewing pleasure and artistic inspirations if you happen to stumble across any. Preferably ones that will not curse our modest seaside home.”
You laugh, and it makes his heart stutter.
“I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for cosmic trinkets,” you assure.
You’re thrumming by the time Rafayel pulls you in again, pressing you closer to his chest. There’s nothing he has to say to fill the silence, and you let your eyes close for a moment, awash in the silent exchange of understanding so deep it could rival the cosmos. Beyond all the playful banter and the theatrical mannerisms, there’s love here, and that’s really all you could ask for. Worries about your safety, concern over Rafayel’s tendency to attract bad omens, —they dissipate in the face of this connection that buzzes like a live wire.
As you finally pull away, you meet his gaze and find nothing but softness there, replacing all the prior amusement and tiredness from before.
“Return safely, my angel. Our oceanside abode awaits your triumphant arrival,” he takes your hand, brushing his lips over your knuckles. “And so do I.”
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websterss · 4 months
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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐆 — 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑
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𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒: Can I do a request for Cole Walter where he and the reader are about to sleep together for the first but she figures that he just will hook up with her and go back to Erin. But he actually has feelings for her and he found out it is her first time ever so he makes sure to tell her that he actually has feelings for her. (Some mature content if you’re cool with that)😏
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): Angst, fluff, only indication of smut at the end, no actual smut.
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2,804
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Cole Walter x fem!Reader
𝐀/𝐍: I hope you enjoy it! I don't how to feel about this lmfao. Listen I suck at smut so I'm sorry there isn't any my love. Also, I don't do taglists anymore guys!
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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If there was one thing you couldn’t let go of it was trying and not being able to have a conversation with Cole. You found it difficult since he had been avoiding you like the plague. He’d brush past your shoulder in the halls, and if you locked eyes in public he was already walking the other way. Your friendship has been one for the history books. A long-lasting friendship since elementary, but you wondered when and if your bond was soon to expire. You wanted to keep trying though because trying meant you wouldn’t have to lose Cole for good. 
You had had your doubts the second Katherine had invited you to attend Haley and Will’s wedding. Your doubts clouded your mind as you felt your presence and attendance would cause a great deal of stress or frustration for Cole. Seeing as how he didn’t want to talk to you, you did your best to stay far away, sit far, but even then you watched as he left in the middle of the dancing. Heading towards the barn. You had wished you had gone after him sooner, but you waited, waited till everyone was asleep. Anxiety was all you felt as you faced his workshop shed. The light was on indicating that he was in there but if it hadn’t been for the banging and clanging of tools against metal you would have assumed otherwise. It was only one foot after the other. You thought to yourself. Some part of you told you to run and turn, but he was alone and in his element, this would have to be your only time to get your chance. You had to be brave, and strong, but you were not at the moment so you went head first, heart second. You had opened the door and made your way inside. You complicated whether to make your presence known but it ended up being one hesitant knock followed by two certain ones. You had barely made your way into the area before his voice made you halt in your tracks. 
“Didn’t expect you to be hanging around still. It’s late, shouldn't you be on your way home by now?” 
“H-How’d you know it was me?” You gape at him like a fish out of water, not having expected him to speak first. 
“You’re the only person I know that knocks after walking into a room.” He continued to twist a bolt. “Plus you do things in threes.”
You gaped at him. “No, I don’t.” 
You watched as he turned his eyes towards you, a shit-eating grin on his eyes as he leaned to his left. His hand curls into a fist as he reenacts your entrance. Tapping against the metal for effect.
One… two three. 
“Three times.” He smirked, raising his left brow. You wanted to slap him then and there. 
“Didn’t peg you as the type to pay attention to things like that?” 
“Like what? Like how you scrunch your nose and close your eyes when the sun is in your face, and continue to have a conversation like that. Or how you like to listen instead of speaking when you’re in a group. It's just how observant you are. Or how you do things like knock three times after entering a room.” He chuckles, pointing and mocking where you entered. “Or how you don’t ask or expect anything from anyone because you feel like you’re being a burden. Which you’re not. Or how you go out of your way to help others so much, even though some people don’t deserve to be blessed by your kindness. Or how you prefer bikes to cars cause it means you're helping out the planet a little bit more. Or how you prefer Custard instead of Murphy now because when we were younger Alex said you’d be fine riding him…but then you fell off and you got hurt, and it took a long time to get you to trust us again, and get you back on a saddle. Or… how you’ve been nothing but sweet to me when all I’ve done is treat you like shit.” He slams the hood of his truck down causing you to flinch. Regret fills him instantly. “Or…how you hate loud noises because it reminds you of all the yelling that happens at home.” If your heart could stop you’d have collapsed dead on the floor before him. But it hadn’t, it only skipped and increased in speed because you never thought he'd be so attentive to you. 
“Still don’t peg me as the type to pay attention to things now?” He opened his arms out and gave a tight-lipped grin. 
“What happened to us?” 
“I don’t know what you mean.” He brushes past you like he’s done so time after time again. He walked over to his work table looking for a torque wrench knowing the one he needed was over by the truck in his toolbox. He just couldn’t face you right now. 
“Cole…will you look at me, please? I’ve been trying to talk to you for months now and-“
“Have you seen my torque wrench anywhere I can’t find it?” He cut you off. 
“Cole, I’m serious, if you’d just give me a second-“
“Can we not do this tonight? I need to work on the truck okay? It needed more work after it broke down on me and Jackie the other day and I’d appreciate it if you-“
“Can you just look at me for once, dammit!” You walk over and bang your fist on the hood and flinch. You see his side profile first before his body follows, he raises a brow at you unimpressed. 
“On my truck.” He gestures to where your fist rests. 
“I have been trying and trying for so long now to get your attention. To talk to you.” You run your hands down your face. “Because I miss you…” You gesture an open hand to him. “I miss my best friend. I miss wanting to know how your day is going or if your knee has been hurting, but I can’t do those things because you don’t give me the time of day.” 
“I’ve been busy…” He shrugs. 
“Busy right? Yeah, I know what you've been up to.” You close your eyes. “Look Cole, I don’t know if I’ve done anything to make you want to avoid me but if I have then I’m sorry.” You let your head hang forward. “I don’t know what to do anymore…” You hear him before you feel his hands touch your skin gently. In a soft gentle caress, you can’t help but lean into his palm. “I’m sorry…” 
“Hey, you don’t have to be sorry for anything. I’ve been a jerk okay…I've been a shit friend and an even shit brother, but I’m working on it. I am. Things will be different. Okay, if my speech was anything to go off of, I meant every second of it. Meeting your person…When I met you, nothing, nothing else mattered to me. I should’ve realized it sooner too but when do I pay attention to you.” He joked slightly, causing you to roll your eyes. “I should've held you closer because as my mother likes to remind me constantly. You’re good for me, to me, and way out of my league…” Cole laughed lightly. “I guess what I’m trying to get at is I’m sorry…for everything. I know I don’t deserve to be forgiven for the way I’ve treated you.” 
“You don’t.” Cole retreats his hands from your face. Accepting that as your final word. He’d have walked off with a nod if you hadn’t given him the sweet smile he loves seeing on you. “It’s a good thing I forgave you two days ago then..” 
“Wait what?” 
“Thanks for fixing my bike by the way.” 
He breathes out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “How did you know about that?” 
“I had to take Luna to the vet since she got out the night before, she came back with a limp, but that’s a story for another time. Anyway, your mom and I chatted and she assumed we were on good terms again and asked if you had given me my bike back yet. It didn't take long to put two and two together. That and I’ve been missing my bike for a week now.”
“Can’t trust her now.” He joked. 
“When did you even take it?” You shook your head.
“When did you start asking people for rides again?” He raised a brow at you but laughed as you went to playfully smack him for he was the reason for your lack of transportation. “I was driving the boys home from school when I saw you one day kneeling beside your bike. I wasn’t spying by the way, I just happened to see you in all your damsel ness…” He dragged out the s. 
“Right…” You squint your eyes at him in amusement. 
“I figured it could’ve been the chain since you complained about it falling out one time, so it was either that or the tires finally gave out because let’s face it, sweetheart, that thing was ancient.” He started walking backwards with a smirk. “It was supposed to be a surprise but I guess now is as good of a time as any.” He grabbed a hold of the sheet that covered it and yanked it off.
Your heart did stop then and there. You gasped quietly as a cherry red bike was presented before you. Cole rolled it over in front of you before pulling down the support lever. Though it had been the basket with a pink bow on it that caught your attention. It was beautiful.
“You fixed it.” You reached a hand out to touch it but left it hanging mid-air. Too scared to ruin it. Break it. “And…painted it?” You raised a confused brow at him.
“No. I got you a new one.” He grinned sheepishly as you looked up at him in shock. “The basket was a personal touch I added to it though. I thought you could use something to carry your backpack and books, and the flowers you deliver on Wednesdays. You’ve always carried your bag on your back so I thought this could help take that heavy weight off your shoulders.” 
“Cole…T-This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you…” His heart swelled as you flashed him a smile. You looked back to the bike…thinking he must’ve spent his paycheck on it. You couldn’t believe he’d done such a thing for you. 
“You’re welcome bug.” He nodded. “You deserve something nice. Plus your old bike was on its last limb. That and I thought it’d be good for me to get some exercise in. Work the leg out some more ya know. Believe it or not, I don’t remember the last time I ever rode a bike.” He chuckled. 
"Bug...You haven't called me that in a long time."
"It's my name for you..."
"Yeah, I know it is..." You mutter softly. You thought about the name for a second before your brows furrowed in confusion. “Wait if you got me a new one…What did you do with the old bike?”
“Ah thought you’d never ask. I fixed it.” He jogged back over to the corner. Rolling over the old rusted red one out. He swung a leg over the seat. “Thought you can use the company on Wednesdays.” 
“Keep me company huh?” 
“Yeah, I think it’s time I find a new hobby.” 
“Sulking bored you out.” 
“Among other things…” He shrugs. “I want things to be different.” He cleared his throat and held your gaze. 
“I’m happy for you Cole.” You nodded. 
“Anyway…Let’s test this bad boy.” He pedaled out a few feet then you both watched and heard as the clank of the chain fell out. It lay on the floor. You looked up in time to meet his gaze. You had to cover your mouth to keep you from laughing. 
“Thought you said you fixed it.”
“Yeah…The chain won’t stay. So expect a lot of stopping when we go out on them.” He gave a sheepish grin. 
“You took the old one.” You stated. Turning back to your new one with a new sense of warmth and longing. 
“You were due for a new one. No way I could keep letting you ride this thing. I mean, look at it!” He judged the rusted two-wheeler. 
“Hey don’t make fun. She held out for as long as she could.” 
His eyes flickered onto you, lingering on your eyes a little longer before he let his eyes roam to your heels, up to where your dress ended, then his eyes raked back up to your pouty lips. The accidental double entendre wasn’t lost on him. You had held out for him as long as you could too and he’d been nothing but an ass. 
“Yeah, she sure did…” He nodded slightly. You hold his gaze for a bit longer then look away. 
“For what it's worth. I appreciate you doing this for me.” You grew closer to him, a timid stance as you fiddled with your already chipping nail paint. “I don’t think I can show you just how thankful I am, but all I got is this.” You exhaled, then leaned over to press a kiss against the side of his cheek. Cole closed his eyes wanting the touch of your lips to linger on him a bit longer. You pulled away the slightest, your eyes flickering down to his lips before you averted your gaze. Cole’s chest rose and fell at the sudden change in the atmosphere. He often wondered what your lips pressed against his felt like. Thoughts and questions he probably shouldn’t have had like what did you taste like? What noises he could get out of you. He was hungry for your touch, and he wasn’t about to ruin the opportunity to do the one thing he longed for. 
You watched as he stood up from the bike, letting it lean on the support bar. You took a step back as he closed the distance between you two. His hand reached up to find its place again against your cheeks. “I’m gonna kiss you now.” Your breath hitched at his words. “Let me know if you’d like me to stop.”
“Okay…” You had closed your eyes shut as you waited for him to lean in. It was the barely-there brush of his lips that had you gasping for air. It was the effect he had on you. When he was sure you wouldn’t pull away from him, he slid his hand underneath your jaw holding you there as he walked you both to his work table. The wood had met you back as he knelt to pick you up. Your hands slid over and into his locks. Tugging him closer to you as he stood in between your thighs. 
“Say the word…” He pulled away from your lips kissing down your jaw, onto your neck. “And I’ll stop.” He breathed out as he took note of each sigh of contentment you let out. 
“D-Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” You lifted his chin to have him look at you once more. You curled a hand into his hair and crashed your lips onto his.
“I won’t stop then.” He pecked your lips, pulling back in a teasing manner. You grabbed both sides of his face to press your mouths together, having enough of his playfulness. You just wanted him then and there. You knew you were in for a long evening hearing him unzip his slacks. His belt buckle following next.
“P-Promise this isn’t just a one-time thing. That this won’t be like Erin or any of the other girls you’ve been with. That you won’t leave after this. This is my first time after all.”
“Is that what’s worrying you?” He leaned in and pecked your lips sweetly. 
“Would you be upset if it was?”
“No. Thank you for being open and honest about your concerns to me. But I promise you this time it's different, with you it’s different. I feel something when I’m with you, and I don’t want to find out what my life will be like if you aren’t in it any time soon, but as long as you’re game. I’m in this for the long run.”
“I thought Cole Walter didn’t do relationships…” Cole knew you were only kidding by the teasing in your tone.
“Yeah well that Cole didn’t know what love felt like until he met you.”
“You love me?” You grin feeling that warmth spread over your heart once more. 
“I love you.” He nodded certainly.
1K notes · View notes
cheonstapes · 3 months
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HAPPY 1K THOUGH LET GO AHHHHHHH IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU
But request time gurl!😘😌✊, so what about a nerd!Miguel\dom x nerdygirl!reader LIKE IMAGINE THE FLUFF AND THE SMUT THERE BOTH BE A BLUSH MESS but I feel like Miguel would take the lead and show he dom when doing it like dont blame me! 😭✊ like he still nerdy Miguel we all know the sweet boy but let make the nerd that friend s with the popular group and have a girlfriend who is nerdy!reader and which is a very shy person then Miguel is.
Pls my life depends on this request gurl and I hope your having a great day though BYE STILL SO HAPPY FOR YOU EACHING 1k following
-🐈
miguel o’hara stars in… ‘OUR FIRST TIME’ (゚ω゚)
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*・゜゚・*:.。..。.miguel o’hara x reader.。. .。.:*・゜゚・*
SMUT
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you and your nerdy boyfie, miguel, have your first time together 🩷
cw; loss of virginity, creampie!!!!!, iloveyous, it’s actually really cute, womb fucking ig, softdom!nerd!miguel, NAWT PROODREAD!!!
2k+ words
@cheonstapes: thank you sm lovelie🩷🩷 apologies it took so long but this was so fun to write and i love your mind. i hope you enjoy beautiful! also tumblr keeps fucking up my italics and bolds so im gonna add them on later!
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you and miguel had to have been the most stereotypical couple at the university.
who would’ve guessed the two biggest nerds on campus would’ve gotten together — especially when it was because of your shared interest in genetics. but to miguel’s friends, it was so sweet — a little cringe, but sweet. seeing that it had already been a year since you two started dating, the two of you not being able to hold a conversation without stuttering and blushed profusely was quite concerning.
every time you looked him in the eyes, your heart would suddenly beat a million times faster — face flushing, hands trembling as you try to come off as calm as possible. it was so embarrassing, you could cry just thinking about it. he had such pretty eyes hidden behind those thin frames, didn’t make it better that he would stare into your soul every time you talked.
but miguel wasn’t any better — in fact, he was worse. his whole friendship group being the talk of the college helped miguel to open up more, the persistent attention meaning he had to adapt to being surrounded by people. the incessant staring? that’s him trying to make himself less nervous by making you more nervous so you would stop looking at him so he could admire you without you realising — long, i know. but he loved how sweet you were, the way you were so deeply in love with him — just like he was with you.
walking out of your biology lecture, he speeds up walking to catch you on the othwr side of the room — gently slipping his hands into yours. you tense, looking up at his handsome face before relaxing — “ah, m-miggy!” he smiles so softly, wrapping his beefy arm around your waist. “hey, pretty — you finished for today?” his fingers squeeze the fat of your hips, pulling you into his chest as he leans against a nearby wall.
he always knew how to make you so fucking nervous, staring down at you like you were the centre of his world — which you in fact were. “yeah! i was just gonna go back to my dorm and study. would…well, it’s ok if you’re busy — but do you, maybe, wanna…” god, why is it so hard to ask your boyfriend to hangout! he knew what you wanted to ask, he just wanted to hear you say it. “do i wanna what, hm? i mean — i don’t have any plans later either, i was thinking of going to pete-“
“no!” a brief flicker of slight panic takes over your face, you refuse to be that much of a mess to the point where you can even ask your own boyfriend out. “i mean, would you like to come my dorm tonight? t-to study, obviously.” amazing job, girlfriend, amazing job. once again, he wore that stupidly handsome smirk — fingers kneading the soft flesh of your waist. “study? of course, babe — why didn’t you just ask?” prick.
miguel always said he found it easier to study when you were right next to him — as in, resting in between his legs as your head lay on his chest. “did you get the answer to number 8? i think i missed that lesson…” you tilt your head, looking up at him. you looked so cute with your little glasses as you studied, a small pout on your lips as you tap on his leg for him to help you out.
he was thinking a lot of things right now, and none of them were the answer for number 8. before he met you, miguel was always deep in his studies — head buried in a textbook every night. but now you’re his, he can’t think about anything else. the outline of your chest against your tight shirt, pert nipples straining against the fabric since you insist you feel better without a bra — he wasn’t a perv, but damn if you were making him feel like one.
“u-uh…i think — uhhhh…” he was really fucked. your cute little giggle and the way you shimmied around to sit on your knees, hands clutching his cheeks. “migs, you’re burning up! you ok?” he was no ok, not by a long shot. despite having so much attention on him simply because of the people he’s friends with, miguel was still very much a virgin. yeah, he’s jerked off before — but that was only after he met you. your entrance into his life awakened a part of his brain that he thought was forever stored away — and he did not know how to deal with it.
sex was something the two of you were yet to talk about, 2 years into the relationship and it was like you were kids about to have their first kiss. there were lingering touches here and there, but oh how badly he wants to feel your sweet pussy around him. “can… i touch you?” he could barely register the words that came out of his mouth before he takes in the way your face changes completely. the heat radiating from your cheeks could melt the arctic, that was the one thing you weren’t expecting to hear. at all.
of course, you were a virgin too — all in all saving yourself for miguel for when the time comes. you just didn’t expect it to be so soon. he looked so depraved already, panting softly — hair tousled from when he was laying down, you want him so, so bad. “u-uh, yeah — go ahead!” you didn’t mean to sound so enthusiastic, but miguel didn’t care — a hand immediately trailing up your plush thighs, toying with the edge of your panties under your skirt. “you’re…you’re so pretty.” he could feel his hands shaking, heart pounding in his chest — the warmth of your skin and the small moans leaving your lips were fucking with his head.
the tender skin was so sensitive, causing your thighs to tremble under his touch. he didn’t expect you to be so sensitive. fuck, did he want to tease you for it, but he couldn’t talk — not when he was already about to bust when you haven’t even touched him yet. “mmm — m-miggy.. please..touch me.” you could tell he wanted to, he just didn’t know where to start. his fingers ran up your inner thigh, teasingly running over the small wet patch on your cute panties.
he felt like a newborn learning how to walk again, the rugged rhythm in which he was working your little clit showed how inexperienced he is — but you didn’t care, especially not when you yourself couldn’t even notice his lack of technique. he fully pulled your panties down your legs, throwing them to the side — there was a sharp in take of breath from him as he stared at your bare cunt, his bulge pressing harder aganst the mattress.
“g-god, baby, can… can i taste you, please?” miguel couldn’t believe how desperate he sounded, he had dreamed about eating your pretty, little pussy out for ever now, the thought of you denying him that now would break him. “y-yeah, fuck. please, miggy.” his tongue immediately latched onto your clit, swirling and sucking it into his mouth as his fingers probed your tight hole.
he knew you would need some extra prep to be prepared for taking him, so he made sure to make you feel as good as possible — he wasn’t about to let your first time be your worst. the fat of your thighs were tight around his head, holding him in place as he steadily fucked you with his tongue. for someone who was a virgin only 20 minutes ago, he sure knew how to work that tongue — your breathy moans breaking through the sloppy squelching noises of your wetness.
“migs…i — mmph!” the sensation was unknown but not unwelcome. a firm pressure in your tummy that felt like a dam about to burst all over your boyfriend’s face. miguel’s watched enough porn to know what that sound meant, reluctantly sitting up from his position between your legs to peer down at you — drooling cock bobbing between his thighs. he licked your arousal from his lips, shakily grabbing onto your legs to push them over his shoulders.
“baby, ‘m not letting you cum until you’ve had my cock in you — ‘s not how it works.” he felt like he was going insane, the sight of your pussy, so tantalisingly close to his length — the chubby tip poking against your entrance. you could only nod, you couldn’t argue with that — not when you’ve been waiting for this moment. upon getting your approval, he wrapped a beefy hand around his cock — smearing his pre-cum along your puffy folds.
he was so slow when he pushed into you, the sheer girth of him stretching your poor pussy thin. “fuckin’ hell, baby— s-so, so tight.” his strong hips pounded against your pelvis, your skin tinging a faint shade of red. your body was jostled against the headboard with every thrust, a thick rim of cream forming at his base. miguel was lost in the feeling of your cunt, drooling mindlessly against your neck as he rammed deep inside of you.
“m-miguel…!” the harder he fucked into you, the shakier your voice was — whiny moans and heavy grunts reverberated through your small dorm room. he couldn’t believe how good fucking you felt, your velvety walls gripping onto him like a life line. miguel was completely delirious, only letting incoherent mumbles — a bruising grip on your waist as he brings you back against his cock.
“ohhh, f-fuck…! iloveyou, so — shit, so much!” your pussy was so good, he didn’t even realised it slipped out — i love you. he really did, and in this moment — there was nothing else but the two of you, connecting so beautifully as you give yourselves to each other fully. he messily sucks on the skin just below your ear, simply grinding into your womb as his hand trails down your back — squeezing the flesh of your ass to pull you flush against him.
“i…i love you too, migs.”
you..you love him too? fuck. his hips stilled, gooey cum filling your cunt raw as he pours all of his love into you. miguel’s back heaved, his arms giving out under him as he falls on top of you — wrapping an arm around your waist as he carefully rubs your clit. his heart was soaring, smiling down at you as he fucked himself into overstimulation — determined to see you cum all over his cock.
“my pretty girl, you’re all mine — wanna see you cum. you gonna cum for me, yeah?” god, his voice was husky and deep — tickling your ear and sending tingles down your spine. your legs trembled, cunt spasming as it gushed out that clear liquid. it coated the sheets below you, splashing against his stomach — a low, gravelly moan leaving miguel as he filled you with his cum once again.
the two of you laid in silence for a beat, panting softly as he rested on your chest. one of your hands moved up to cup his face, picking up his glasses from your bedside stand — placing them on his face, albeit with wonkily but it matched that dopey grin on his face. “i swear to god, i’ve turned you into an animal, migs! you sure that was your first time?” giggling, you kissed his lips softly — nimble fingers brushing through his sweaty hair.
“guess i got a bit carried away, huh?” he sighed, softly rubbing your tummy. “‘s not my fault i’ve got the most beautiful, sexiest, most loving, caring, perfect, goddess of a girlfriend anyone could wish for.”
miguel was embarrassingly in love with you, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
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-smack myass like a drum
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