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#i might have licked the phone screen
nephilmsworld · 3 months
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How do you guys feel about Valentine’s Day coming up?
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shu-porang-porang · 3 months
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Who's Needy Now?
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♡Just a quick Minho drabble.♡ (Read the sequel here)
Pairs: Lee Minho (Lee Know) / fem!reader
Rating: Explicit
Theme: Suggestive, 18+ NO MINORS.
Warnings: sexual content (honestly I don't know!!)
Word count: 0.6 k
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“Hey, what are you doing?” he says mindlessly as he’s scrolling down his phone and your head that was resting on his thigh turns the other side to plant a kiss on his belly over the fabric of his shirt.
“Kissing my boyfriend?”
“You’re tickling me, stop”
You mock him and keep kissing him. He huffs out an annoyed breath but doesn’t move neither stop you. To annoy him even more, you pull up the hem of his shirt so you can directly kiss his skin. He keeps ignoring you, he probably likes it but he can’t admit it now that he complained. You pull his waistband down a little to tease a more sensitive area with wet kisses. He shifts a bit in his seat, but is still ignoring you. You won’t stop without breaking him first. You move up a little, so now you’re face to face with his crotch, he steals a glance at you to try and read your intentions but he quickly averts his gaze back to the phone screen when you catch him looking down.
Oh the game is on! With an impish smirk on your lips, you kiss his bulge ever so gently your lips hardly even touch the fabric of his pants. You see his nostrils flare. You give him another kiss, this time with your mouth lingering on his clothed member. Then you take a whiff and let out a sigh. He might be ignoring you but his body could never. Another kiss and you feel his member hardening. You stick your tongue out and lick it over the fabrics and it twitches against your flattened tongue. How cute!
He's probably thinking you’ll give him a good time anyways even if he acts indifferent, he knows your appetite for him. It’s not like he isn’t interested, he just likes to put up a little fight so he has an excuse to later punish you the way you like it. So you decide to give him a good excuse this time. You tug on his waistband and he helps you pull his pants and boxers down to his midthighs.
“You’re such a needy cock slut, you just have to have it, huh?”
You don’t say anything, just look at him through your lashes and give him a smile. You don’t need words to make him regret his behavior. You kiss his thighs and every other patch of exposed skin but his aching cock. Now it’s your turn to ignore him. He’s fully hard now and precum starts to bead at the tip. You give it a lick and his head falls back. As much as you want to devour him, you need to teach him a lesson.
“What time is it?” you ask abruptly.
“Cock sucking time!”
“No, seriously.”
He groans and flips his phone to tell you the time.
“Oh shoot! I’m supposed to meet my friend for coffee in half an hour!”
You get up and walk to the bedroom to change. He’s confused and thinks you’re joking but when minutes later you emerge from the bedroom with an outdoor outfit he realizes what’s happening.
“Are you seriously gonna leave me like this?” he says in disbelief, he seems really upset!
“Sorry baby, now you can get back to your phone without my intrusion.” You wink and leave out the door. You know when you’re back you’ll have a beast to tame and nothing will do it but your sweet sweet pussy.
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marvelfilth · 3 months
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The mustache
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader
Warnings: none
Summary: Natasha crashes your date
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You let a fake laugh bubble out of your mouth for what feels like a hundredth time this evening. Your date looks smug, her eyes trailing over your form, almost leering. She takes a sip of her wine and licks her lips slowly, daring you to look.
You don't.
You can almost hear Natasha say I told you so.
You clear your throat and take another bite of a perfectly made steak - the only saving grace of this disastrous date.
You mentally cringe, closing your eyes briefly. Objectively, the date is going well - she showed up on time, held the door for you, helped you to your seat and made perfect small talk, occasionally throwing in a joke or two. You can excuse her wandering eyes, knowing you've been throwing mixed signals all evening.
You nod along to whatever story she's telling, smiling and chuckling when it's appropriate. You barely resist the urge to excuse yourself. You chew on your lower lip, wondering how you allowed yourself to get in such a mess.
Your phone chimes once, screen lightning up with a new notification.
Natasha.
Yep. Here's your answer.
You look at your date, hating how different her smile is from your best friends. It's too large, too open and not even half as genuine. Natasha's smiles are small, barely noticeable, but they're enough to make your breath come short.
You sigh. You need to stop comparing your every date to Natasha.
“Do you mind if I take a look? It might be important,” you ask, reaching for your phone. She nods happily, waving the waiter over for another glass of wine.
How bad is it?
You snort, coughing immediately to cover up the sound and reaching for your glass.
Another message appears right in front of your eyes.
That bad?
You choke on your wine, discreetly looking around, but coming up short.
Six o'clock, dumbass.
You wait a moment and look right behind you, mouth falling open when you finally see her.
She's sitting three tables down, wearing your favorite hoodie and a black cap. With sunglasses covering her eyes. In a dimly lit restaurant. What makes you let out a strangled laugh, though, is a perfect old fashioned mustache glued right under her nose. She twirls both ends around her fingers, curling them up, before lowering her glasses and sending you an exaggerated wink.
The best spy in the world, the woman who made entire governments collapse, is sitting right behind you, looking like a child playing dress up.
You whip around, your face red, and wave off your date's concerned look. “I'm alright.”
She nods, all too happy to continue talking about all of the famous people she's met through her job.
You hide your phone under the table and shoot your best friend a text.
You're ridiculous
Her reply comes instantly.
And yet you love me.
Her words hit a little too close to home.
You are hopelessly in love with your best friend.
Another message comes through.
What's wrong?
You frown, eyes darting around. You didn't even do anything to warrant the question.
And don't even try to lie. I can tell something's wrong.
You sigh, tell Natasha everything is fine, and place your phone face down on the table, your date still recounting a story of how she met some actress.
The next half an hour is tense. You can feel Natasha's eyes on you. You can hear her plotting a way to get you out of here, but you know you have to at least try to make it work, if not with… Connie? Courtney? Then with someone else, before you go completely mad.
Your phone rings. You can't stop yourself from picking it up.
“Sorry, it’s an emergency.” Your excuse sounds bad even to your own ears, and you wince when your date pointedly looks away with pursed lips.
“Do you want me to throw her out of the window?” She starts without a preamble. “If not, I have a knife in my boot and you know how good I am with knives.”
“Can't you handle it without me?” You ask, knowing Natasha will play along. Your date reaches for her purse, dejected. Guilt swirls in your chest, and you contemplate your next words. Maybe you should stay and-
“Don't feel bad, she's been looking at the blonde to your right since she came in,” Natasha drawls, “and no, I can't handle it without you. I need you back home.”
You blush, biting on your lower lip.
“I'm sorry, but there's been an-”
“Just go,” your date cuts you off, “I'll handle the bill.” Her eyes are on the blonde girl before she's done speaking, and you leave with your conscience clear.
Natasha catches up to you outside and leads you to her corvette - her sunglasses and cap are gone, but that ridiculous mustache is still in place.
“What do you think?” She asks as she opens the door for you before going around the car and taking a seat behind the wheel. “I like the look.”
You snort and shake your head, amused with your best friend's antics. “It's… something.”
She rolls her eyes, starting the engine. “I know you love it.”
You hum, relaxing against the soft leather, your worries stoved away by Natasha's calming presence.
“Why do you keep going on dates if you hate it so much?” She asks when you reach Compound gates.
You sigh, think of an answer that would get her off your back without making her suspicious.
“I just… I-” you stutter, wincing.
Great.
She raises an eyebrow, looking absolutely ridiculous, but so, so beautiful, it makes your entire chest ache.
The car comes to a stop, and Natasha focuses all of her attention on you.
“I need to get over someone.”
There, you've said it.
“Who?” She asks, and for the first time in all the years you've known her you can't read her at all.
“You don't know them.”
She looks ahead, her jaw clenched tight. “How long?”
You blink away the tears. “A few years.”
She looks down at her lap, her fingers tapping against her thigh. “Who?” She asks again.
“Natasha…”
“Is it Carol?” Her voice is tight, her eyes dart around the street.
“God no,” you chuckle, thinking about your blond friend. Valkyrie would kill you on the spot if you even looked at her the wrong way, not that you're interested anyway. They need to get over themselves and finally admit their feelings to each other. Anyone can see their pining from a mile away.
“Kate?”
You shake your head. “You don't know them.”
“Then tell me. What would it matter?”
“Nat, can we just-”
“Tell me.”
You groan, and turn to open the door, but Natasha’s hand landing on your thigh stops you. You swallow, freezing on the spot.
“Please.”
You close your eyes, bracing yourself for the inevitable. “It's you,” you whisper.
The hand on your thigh clumps tight. “What?”
“It's you,” you repeat, feeling braver after the admission. “Always you.”
She lets out a deep, shaky breath, before reaching for your face with her other hand. “Look at me, please.”
You face her, eyes still closed, a few tears sliding down your cheeks. They're wiped away a moment later, and your face gets enveloped in the softest warmth.
“Open your eyes.”
You swallow, and do as she asked. She looks at you like you're the most precious thing in the world.
“I love you.”
Your heart skips a beat at her words, lips falling open. “What?”
She smiles, her thumb tracing patterns on your wet cheek. “I love you.”
You look at her for a long moment, taking in her features - her forest green eyes, tender and soft, the slope of her nose, so kissable. Your eyes trail lower and then suddenly a loud laugh makes its way out of your chest. You bend, clutching your stomach, happy tears gathering in the corners of your eyes.
Natasha looks delightfully confused.
“I'm sorry, it's just…” you giggle, pointing at her face, “the mustache.”
She groans, tearing it away. “I've been going crazy all this time, you know.”
“Yeah?” You grin, head spinning.
“Yeah,” she says before claiming your lips. She's soft, so soft it makes your toes curl and your chest get warm and fuzzy. The kiss is gentle, loving. You mewl against her, opening your mouth and welcoming her tongue.
The kiss grows heated.
“I,” you gasp between the kisses, “I love you. So much.”
You can feel her blinding smile in the next kiss, and the one that comes after.
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samandcolbyownme · 6 months
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Summary: anon request - "Can u make a colby one where him y/n Kat and Sam are live and y/n and Colby are drunk it can be fluff or smut Idc"
Warnings: strong language, alcohol consumption, heavy flirting, sexual innuendos, sexual tension between reader and Colby, drunk actions, fluff with a dash of filth containing fingering, handjob, sensual stuff but hottt
Word count: 4.9k | somewhat edited I don’t really know if I like this one all that much… I might rewrite it after I get more requests out.
╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗
"I can't believe you talked me into doing this." You look at Kat in your mirror as you rummage through your clothes.
She laughs, "Oh come on. There will be alcohol so you can just relax, drink and hang out."
"You had me at alcohol." You laugh and hold your a top, "Hows this?" She tilts her head and purses her lips, "mm. It's cute, but I think you need something different."
"Is that what you're wearing?" You point to her outfit and she nods, "Yes." You hold your hand up, "Hang on."
You walk out to your living room, grabbing a box of clothes that you got sent, "There might be something.." you dump the box, ".. in here."
"Oh yeah. Most definitely." Kat nods with a laugh as she goes through the clothes, "Ooh, this. Definitely this."
Your eyes move over the black, lacey tank top that's in her hands, "A cute skirt or a pair of jeans will make this so much better." She adds and tosses it to you.
You catch it and nod, "I'll try it on."
"Well hurry up, we have to be at Sam and Colby's in the next hour." She lays back, scrolling on her phone as you change.
"Did you say Colby?" You walk out slowly and she smiles up at you, "I did.."
"He's doing this livestream with us?" You fix the tank top so it sits right, "Is this some sort of set up by you and Sam?"
She sits up with a sigh, "You got us." She raises her hands, "I think it'll be fun. Plus we'll be live, so it's not like anything crazy can happen.
You drop your hands and they slam on your thighs, "have you seen your livestreams?"
She holds her hands up, "it wasn't my idea. It was Sam's." You scoff, trying not to laugh, "But you went with it."
"If it makes you feel any better, it'll be just you and me at first. Sam offered for him and Colby to join us once they got back from meeting someone about a place they're going next week. Also. Speaking of. We're going with them."
You groan and turn to look in the mirror, "Fine." You smirk at her in the mirror, "But only because you're going."
"Whatever you say, y/n." She rolls her eyes and laughs, "Now come on. We gotta get going. I tweeted that we'll be on by six and it's almost five thirty."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
"Ready?" Kat looks over at you and you fix yourself in the screen of the computer, "Okay, yes now I'm ready."
You lean back in your chair and watch as she starts, waiting for people to join, "Hi guys! How are you?"
"Hey!" You smile and hold up your hand, reading the comments that are starting to flow in, "Oh thanks. Kat actually dressed me tonight. So tell her."
You laugh and look over at her. She smiles, "Yeah, I'll take credit for that because you look.." she licks the tip of her finger and lays it on your arm, "Tsss."
You laugh as she makes a sizzling sound, "I do. I do."
"Alright. So Sam and Colby will be joining us a little later, but for right now. I figured y/n and I could start off with a little game."
"Oh god." You mumble and watch as she puts a bottle of alcohol and two shot glasses on the stand in front of you two, "Oh no." You laugh and look over at her, "What game do you have planned?"
"Just a little.. do or drink." She smirks, "Nothing bad I promise." She pulls out a small box containing cards and opens it, "Alright. You want to go first?"
You sigh, "You know what? I will." You laugh and pull out a card, "Hmm. Okay." You turn to her in your chair and look up at her, "what is one thing.. you dislike about me?"
"Oh gosh." She blinks as she thinks for a moment, "Honestly, I hate the way that you can just roll out of bed and look good."
You smile and bat the air, "Stop it."
She laughs, "I'm serious. You're just that pretty."
"Well thank you." You laugh slightly and motion towards the box, "Pick your poison."
She reaches up, picking one of the cards, "Ooh my god." She giggles and lays the card over her lips. You lean forward, "Oh no. What is it?"
She smirks, "Send 'can't wait to see you' to the last person you texted or drink."
You pull your phone out, and go to your messages, looking at the threads, "The last person I texted was.." you laugh slightly, "Katrina."
"Who is it?" She wheels herself over and leans around to look at your phone, "Oh. You have to. You freaking have to, y/n."
You bite your lip as you tap on Colby's name, Can't wait to see you.
You lean forward after locking your phone and read the comments on the screen, "Sorry guys. That's a secret." You laugh and lean back, looking up at Kat when your phone goes off.
She motions for you to read it and you can't help but laugh, "They said, are you and Kat playing that stupid drinking game?" You shake your head as you type back, maybe, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm excited to see you.
"Y/n. Damn. You're not even drunk yet." Kat looks at you shocked and you shrug, "Oops." You smile and reach up to pull a card, "Name a couple that you think should break up."
Without any hesitation she pours a shot, "I cant pick just one.." she laughs and takes the shot, instantly chasing it with her water, "Oh gross."
She grabs another card and smirks, "Y/n."
You tilt your head, "Kat."
"Out of.. let's say, me, Sam, and Colby, who is your favorite?" She smirks and you sigh, "I know I'm going to hurt feelings with this one.." you pause and look into the camera then back to Kat, "..pour me a shot."
"Are you not going to answer?" She laughs and you shake your head, "No because it'll hurt their feelings when I say you." You laugh and she throws her head back laughing, "Oh my god. That's great."
You read the comments and see that people are debating on whether it's Colby, even from the previous question.
"Oh god." You groan and take your shot, cringing at the taste, "That's so gross."
She leans in, whispering quietly, "We're you going to say Colby?" You smirk and lean back, looking at her as you nod.
"Ha. I know who her favorite is." She says in a sing song-y tone before she laughs, "It's still me."
You laugh and grab a card, "Katrina. Who was the last person that seen you cry?"
"Like, a sad cry or happy cry?" She asks and you shrug, "Just in general I think." She hums, "Probably... Sam, I think. Or you. I'm with you both so much."
"We might as well just live together at this point." You laugh and she nods, "Honestly. Okay.." she grabs a card and clears her throat, "Have you ever been to a strip club?"
"Like working or visiting?" You try to not smile but fail, "I'm joking you guys. Relax. No I haven't ever been to a strip club."
"I can see it." Kat laughs and you gasp, "Hey." She lays a hand on your knee, "If it makes you feel any better you'd definitely have a big client list, and I know who number one would be." She winks and tries not to laugh so she covers her mouth, "I'm sorry."
You laugh, "oh my god. I need more alcohol for this." You get up, "I'm going to get a white claw, do you-"
"Yes." She cuts you off and points, "Please."
You give her a thumbs up, "I'll be right back." You quickly make your way down the steps and into the kitchen. You open the fridge and grab as many white claws as you can carry.
Colby's voice makes you jump, "Thirsty or something?"
"Goddam it, Colby. I didn't hear you guys come in." You laugh slightly and he walks over, offering to help, "I'm heading up there now, I can take some of these for you."
"Okay." You hand him a couple and look up at him, "Thank you." He smirks, "So.. did you mean to text me earl-"
"I have to get back to Kat." You cut him off, "We can talk about this later." You smirk slightly as you walk away and Colby follows you, "Oh we definitely will be talking about a lot later I can guarantee that."
His words make your cheeks red and warm as you walk into the room Sam and Kat are in, "Out of my chair, Golbach."
You kick it and he spins around, "Excuse me?"
You smirk and hand him a drink, "Now move." He laughs and gets up, moving to sit behind Kat in the beanbag chair. Colby next to him, behind you.
You hand Kat her drink and you both crack one open, cheersing before you each take a sip.
"What the hell. You guys are like.. that was so in sync." Sam shakes his head looking between you and Kat.
You laugh, "That's what happens when you're best friends for this long." Kat tilts her drink towards you, "Correct. Okay. Now where were we?"
"My turn to ask you or one of the boys a question." You smirk as you pick up the card, "Ooh. Colby." You spin your chair towards him, hiding the card so he can't see it, "what's the last thing you googled?"
"Oh snap. Um. Can I look?" He asks pulling his phone out and you nod, "Yes, but you have to show us."
His mouth drops slightly before he sighs, "Fine, I have no shame around you guys anyway." He unlocks his phone and laughs, "oh my god. I totally forgot that I even searched this.." he turns his phone around, showing you and Kat, "I googled if dogs can understand me."
Sam laughs loudly, "Are you serious?" He grabs the phone and starts laughing again, "Oh my god, Colby!"
You and Kat are laughing in your chairs and Colby sighs, "It's a valid question, damn." He reaches up between you and Kat, kinda close to you.
You chew on the inside of your lip as you smell his cologne. It's the same one you got him for Christmas a few months ago.
He moves back and sighs, "Alright. Sam. This one is for you." He turns towards Sam, "What is the most embarrassing things you have ever done?"
Sam sighs, "twerking on that cruise."
You and Kat look at each other and laugh, "Oh my god." You look at Sam, "I forgot about that."
Sam chugs some of his drunk, "Yeah, I haven't." He laughs and leans forward, giving Kat a kiss on the cheek as he reaches for a card.
You glance up at the screen, looking at Colby through the camera, and he smiles at you, looking away, "who's it for?"
Sam laughs slightly, "y/n. What's the dirtiest text you ever sent to someone?"
Colby clears his throat, "Yeah, y/n. What's the dirtiest text you've ever sent to someone." He shrugs as he smirks and you lean up, pouring yourself a shot and taking it.
You wash it down with your drink and sigh, "That's for me to know and no one else to find out."
You grab a card, laughing slightly as you look at Kat, "Katrina. If you had to kiss someone who isn't your boyfriend, who would it be?"
She shrugs and laughs slightly, "That's easy."
Sam leans forward, "Oh is it?"
She looks at Sam, laughing as she points to you, "Y/n."
He raises his eyebrows, "Huh. Not where I thought that was going."
"Prove it. Prove it. Prove it." Colby chants quietly behind you guys and you look at him, "Maybe when I'm a little bit more drunk."
He chuckles, "Mhm."
Kat picks up a card, glancing at Sam before taking a deep breath, "y/n. What's your biggest turn off?"
You suck air between your teeth, "Probably insecurity. Like..for example.." you shift around in your seat, "..if I wanted to wear this out to a bar or something, who ever I'm with shouldn't get mad at me for it you know?"
Kat nods, "Oh hell yeah, girl. Like who ever you're with.." she glances to Colby and smirks, "They should know that you're only looking good for them. Not fight with you about it."
"Exactly. Yes." You can feel the alcohol settling in, along with Kat because you're both super giggly.
You pick up a card and read it. You can tell Colby is staring at you, you can feel it.
So you turn to him with a smile, "Colby."
"Y/n." He smiles and tilts his head as he brings his drink up to his lips.
"This is actually an easy one. Take three shots or quit playing." You watch as he nods, "Give me three shots."
One by one, you pour him shots into your shot glass and hand them to him.
"Still got it." He laughs and points, "Hand me a card please." You reach up, grabbing a card and handing it to him.
He leans back, "Kat. What is the biggest secret you kept from your parents growing up?"
She sighs, "oh no." You lean forward, "Oh Katrina. Do tell." You rest your elbow on your knee, chin in your palm and she sighs, "I was somewhere I wasn't supposed to be. I was to be at my friend Lauren's house but we were at a party in some persons basement.. drinking."
You bat the air, "Oh we've all done that."
"Really? You partied when you weren't supposed to?" Colby laughs, "I don't believe that." You roll your eyes and stand up, "Pause. I have to pee."
Kat laughs, "Enjoy your pee."
"You guys are drunk." Sam says, and you can tell he's moving to your chair.
You go to the bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror. You take a deep breath, but you can't help but giggle as you think about Colby.
His hand around his drink when it really should be around your neck.
His rings pressing against your skin in all the right ways.
His lips, dragging up and down the skin or your neck.
You bite your lip, laughing slightly as you shake your head, pushing the thoughts out to do your business.
Once you're done, you make your way back to the room and take Sam's spot. You sit down, and they all look at you.
"What?" You ask pointing to your drink. Kat hands it to you and she shakes her head, "Nothing. We were just waiting for you." She laughs and hands you a card.
You read your card to yourself, smirking as you look at Colby, "What is your least favorite thing about me?"
Sam gives a low, "Oooh shit."
"Bold." Kat whispers and you can tell she's secretly cheering you on. She crosses her leg over the other, staring intently between you and Colby, "Well? Colby. Are you going to answer or.."
He smirks and shakes his head, "I'll say it. But I'm not saying it for everyone to hear."
Your heart rate picks up as you perk up, unsure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.
"Where's the fun in that?" Sam groans, "Say it. Say it. Say it."
Colby reaches over, grabbing your arm to pull you over to him. You lean into him naturally and he rests his cheek against yours, whispering as quiet as possible, "The only thing I don't like about you, is the fact that you're not mine."
He slowly leans away, smirking at you as you look at him, "Really?"
He nods, "Yeah, it's real annoying, actually."
You look down as you try not to smile, but you fail so you cover it with taking a sip of your drink.
"What did he say?" Kat leans forward, almost falling off her chair but your laughing distracts everyone until Sam yells, "Colby!" He hands him a card, "your turn, brother."
Colby takes it, nodding as he laughs slightly, "this one is for both of the girls."
You and Kat look at each other, "Oh no."
"The girls must take three shots in a row, or quit playing." Colby tosses the card down and looks between you and Kat.
"Give me the glass." You hold your hand out and Colby gently places it in your hand, he still had it from when he took his three.
Sam pours both, you and Kat's shots and you clink the small glasses each time before taking the shots, laughing as you finish the third.
"They're about to be fucked up." Sam laughs and Colby shakes his head, "Yeah, yeah they are." He looks to you, winking as you lean back in the chair, "Kat, you can go."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
At this point, you all are feeling pretty damn good. If you stood up, you feel like you could fall over, but you had no issue moving closer to Colby.
The drunker you got, the more you wanted to be with  him. Next to him. Anything.
Kat and Sam are talking, reading the comments and laughing together as you and Colby have a quiet conversation behind them.
"Did you mean what you texted me earlier?" He whispers leaning in and you nod, "yeah..yeah. I did actually." You look up at him with a smile, "if I'm be-"
"Y/n!" Kat yells your name and you look over at her, "What?!"
She laughs, "Tell them.. tell them about when we went to the mall and that lady who walked into us."
Your eyes go wide, "Oh my god." You start to laugh, "We were walking out of the one store and this lady ran into us, started bitching that we needed to watch where we were going and not even ten seconds later, fucking walks right into the one sign." You laugh with Kat, "Fucking smacks her face and spills her coffee all over her white dress. Ah. It was hilarious."
Colby stares at you, smiling as he admires how pretty you are when you laugh, "She sounds like she deserved it."
You look at him, leaning over as you nod, "Oh yeah. Totally deserved it."
Colby leans in, whispering in your ear, "You know you're so pretty when you laugh." He leans back and smiles at you.
You roll your eyes and lean over, laying a hand on his knee as you support your weight to put your lips next to his ear, "I'd look even prettier under you."
You were way past feeling bold.
He laughs slightly, taken aback by what you said, "Really?"
He spoke loud enough to catch Sam and Kat's attention and he looks up at them. You look up at them and start laughing, "Oh my god."
"Wanna share with the rest of the class?" Sam laughs and you shake your head, "No not really."
Colby leans over, resting his head on your shoulder, "We're just having our own little convo back here so mind ya biz." He laughs and you laugh, resting a hand on his head as you lean into him more.
Colby moves his head up to kiss your neck and you giggle, laying a hand on his shoulder.
"Whoooaaaa colbyyyyy!" Sam drags out his yell, "Whoa whoa whoa."
Kat's mouth is open, staring as Colby leans up, "Oh stop it. How can you not look at her."
"Colby." You lean over, "You're drunk."
He leans in, close to your face, "So are you."
"So are we." Kat laughs as she leans forward, resting her head on Sam's leg, "This is so much fun though." She sits up, "We should play a game. Just one more game."
"Ooh, I'm down for another game." You bite your lip and nod, "Whatcha got in mind?"
"Most likely? The person that everyone votes. Drinks." Kat smirks, "Please."
"Only because you're so pretty." Sam reaches over squeezing her chin and she smiles, "Alright. Sam you start."
He chuckles, "Alright.. uhh.. let's see.." he snaps, "who's most likely to accidentally find a portal to another dimension?"
Instantly everyone points to Sam, laughing.
"Wh- oh come on." He groans, "Why me?"
"Because you're always going off on your own when we're doing investigations, Sam." Colby laughs and Sam sighs, taking the shot from Kat, "I walked into that one."
"Yeah, just like you will a portal." You mumble and fall over onto Colby's lap as you laugh.
Sam glares at you and Kat pats his leg, "She said what we're all thinking." She sighs, "Okay. I'll go." She leans back in her chair, "Who's most likely to get a random tattoo on a night out?"
Colby points to you while the rest of you point to him and he scoffs, "What the hell?"
"I honestly think I would, so I'll take a shot with you." You smile and take the glass, holding it up for Kat to pour you and Colby a shot.
He smiles, "Aw how sweet of you."
"You have no idea." You mumble as you cheers him, taking the shot like nothing, "Alright. I'll go." You set your glass down, biting your lip as you think.
You laugh slightly as you sigh, "Who's most likely to have handcuffs in the bedroom." You raise your eyebrows and smirk, "one.. two.. three."
You and Sam point to Colby and Kat and Colby point to Sam.
Sam and Colby look at each other and start laughing. Kat turns to you, "They have matching ones." You look at Colby, "Do you?"
He shrugs, "Maybe." His eyes move to you as his bottom lip pulls between his teeth. You raise an eyebrow, "Mm."
Colby leans back, "Who's most likely to lose their clothes on a night out?" His eyes move to you and everyone is pointing to you.
"Huh!? Why me?" You point to yourself, "I don't lo-"
"Yes you do. Last weekend you lost your coat and one of your shoes." Kat laughs, "I'm not judging but it would be you."
You laugh, "Okay. Okay. That- it was a coat and a shoe." You argue, "But fine. I'll take it."
"When you lose it here at least you'll know where to find it." Sam mumbles and you about spit out your shot, "Shut it, Golbach."
He laughs and shrugs, nodding to Colby, "I'm just saying."
Kat looks at the screen and taps Sam, "They want to know what you said."
"No." You say quickly, "It's fine." You laugh and rest your head back, "who's most likely to have a new ghost up their ass each week." You lift your head and look at Sam, "Hmm?"
"That is so.. that's so not true." He huffs, trying not to laugh. You tilt your head, "Oh yeah? Then why does everyone you do an investigation with say you're the one they'll go for?"
"You know what?" Sam sets his drink down on the desk and turns, staring at you while Colby and Kat are dying with laughter over you and Sam arguing, "Who's most likely to.." he pauses, trying to think of something, but just sighs, "I got nothing."
"Ha! Suck it." You laugh and sigh, "I need to lay down. Those shots are kicking my ass." You stand up, holding onto the back of Kat's chair, "Goodnight party people, y/n is tapping out."
"Night!" Kat yells before yawning, "Yeah I might.. I might be done too."
You walk out, hoping Colby follows you, but you can still hear him talking to Sam and Kat.
You bite your lip, making your way into his room, shutting the door quickly behind you. You turn, eyes scanning over his room as you walk over to his bed, unbuttoning your jeans.
You walk over to his dresser, grabbing one of his shirts and walking over to the bed. You toss it down, stripping down to just your panties before sliding his shirt over your head.
You move the blankets, sitting down and swinging your legs onto the bed before covering up. You move around, getting comfy before you take a selfie and send it to Colby.
You lay your phone down, turning away from the door as you hear footsteps coming closer. His door opens quietly and you bite your lip, not moving.
You feel the bed dip down next to you and you feel a hand lay on your waist, "Whatcha doin' in here, pretty girl?"
You slowly roll over onto your back, "Your bed is comfier than the one in the guest room."
"Is that so?" He brushes hair from your face, "You can sleep here anytime you want."
"I plan on it." You smile as you giggle and he tilts his head, "Yeah?"
You nod, "Oh yeah." You lay a hand on his, slowly dragging it up and down his arm, "So you really weren't the last person I texted.."
He furrows his brows, "Huh?"
"Kat was the last person I texted, but I wanted to text you so I just said you were." You look up at him and he smirks, "you're so pretty."
His thumb brushes against your cheek, "What made you change your mind?"
You let out a sigh, "I'm happy when I think about you. When I'm with you. Talking about you." You shrug, "You make me happy. I was just too stu-"
He cuts you off with his lips on yours.
He leans back slightly, "You're not stupid."
You laugh slightly, "If I wasn't we would have been to-"
"Don't. You had your reasons and now we're here." He turns your head to look at him, "Drunk in my bed.." he kisses your cheek, "Speaking those sober thoughts."
You laugh slightly, laying a hand on his cheek, "Mhm."
He turns his head, kissing the palm of your hand, "You have no idea how many times I've wanted to just come pick you up and bring you to my bed."
You bite your lip, "really?"
"Not even for sex or anything.. I mean, yeah.." he laughs slightly, "I've thought about you in so many ways, but mainly just to be with you. Holding you." His hand slides down your body, slipping under the covers, "Tell me to stop and I will."
"Don't." You say quickly and spread your legs, "Please don't."
He leans in, kissing down your neck, "Tell me what you want, babe."
"You." You whisper and look up at him, "I want you."
He slips his hand into the band of your panties, "I've dreamed of hearing those words."
You whimper slightly as his fingers press down to your clit, "Colby.." you moan quietly as he draws small circles.
"You're all I think about." He gently bites down on your jaw, "I swear, you've taken over my life but in the best way."
You turn your head, crashing your lips onto his, making out slow as he slowly slides his fingers down, dipping them inside of you
You dig your nails into his arm, arching your back as you pull yourself closer to him. You slip your hand down and slip them into his sweats.
He groans lowly as you stroke him, “That feel good?” His voice is low against your lips, “Tell me.”
“So, so good, Colby.” You squeeze his fingers, whimpering as you feel yourself growing closer to the edge, “Fuck..”
“Your sounds are so beautiful.” He leans back, moaning as you swipe your thumb over the head of his cock, watching as your face scrunches and your eyes flutter shut.
“I-I need you..” you whimper, squeezing your hand around his cock, “Please.”
“Let’s just take it slow, babe. We’ll get to that.” He kisses your lips, “I promise.”
You nod, tilting your head back as you moan, “Fuck, fuck.”
“Cum for me, pretty girl.” Colby rests his forehead against your temple, “You’re so close.”
You turn your head, looking over at him. He presses his lips to yours, moaning against them as you continue to slowly stroke his cock, “C-Colby.”
“All about you baby. I’m okay.” He speeds the thrusts of his fingers up, watching as you squirm under him, “Come on, pretty girl. You can do it.”
His words egged you to cum more, “Fuck.” You whimper and the knot that’s been working in your belly snaps.
You gasp, arching your back as your thighs squeeze his arm, “Shit, shit, shit.”
“That’s it, baby girl. That’s it.” Colby whispers as he peppers your face with kisses, slowly pulling his fingers out.
He brings them up to his lips, licking them off with a groan while you watch in awe. He reaches down, slipping your hand from his sweats and lays next to you, pulling you into him.
Your body fit perfectly into his, like you were made for him.
“I just want to lay with you.” He whispers as he twirls your hair, “We can get to that other stuff later.”
You weren’t going to argue with him. You’re just glad you’re there.
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
Hi hello sorry for the late update. I’ve been super sick lately. I hope you enjoy this!
Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!
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lovingmattysposts · 2 months
Text
Quiet 5
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P1 P2 P3 P4 P6 P7 P8
pairing: y/n and Matt sturniolo
summary: a girl with a lot of baggage and a boy with even more try to help put each others pieces back together one by one. A story about a girl who’s broken and a boy who doesn’t talk.
warnings: mentions of being scarcely thin, mentions of lack of food, toxic household
—————————————————————
Matt and I walked out of his room back into the living room where Chris and Nick were still talking.
"You don't know her Chris"
"Neither do you! I'm just saying that--"
I cleared my throat and they both haulted their conversations and turned to us. I looked over at Matt who held a firm gaze on them, his eyebrows low. I swallowed and shifted on my feet suddenly feeling very unwelcome.
I turned Matt.
"Hey, I'll see you tomorrow right?" I mumbled hugging my arms to myself. Matt broke his gaze on his brothers and turned to me. He just blinked at me for a second and then pushed off his feet and walked up to Chris.
Chris looked down at him. Matt pulled out his phone before typing something out on it and showed it to him. Chris glanced over the screen and looked up at him.
"Why?" He asked. I just looked between them as Matt typed on his phone again and brought it up to Chris's face. Chris looked to Matt and shook his head. Matt glared at him.
What was going on?
Matt typed again. Chris looked at the phone. Chris glanced over to me and my eyes widened.
"Do you want to stay for dinner?" He asked unenthusiastic at me. My mouth opened and I looked at Matt who wore a sympathetic glance. I felt sick to my stomach. I felt goosebumps appear on my arms.
"Uh, No it's okay" I said quickly shaking my head. One dinner with Chris and he might jump across the dinner table and strangle me. Nick stepped forward.
"Please stay. I'll cook, I'm a good cook. Matt's never complained" Nick smiled brightly at me. I blinked towards Matt who rolled his eyes. Obviously Matt never complained because he didn't speak.
I still thought it was too much, I didn't want to take their food. The sandwhich Matt gave me was too much in the first place. I shook my head quickly.
"No, It's okay. I think....I think my dad--He is gonna pick up something. He'll be waiting on me" I lied, badly. I didn't even know when I went home if my dad would be there, let alone have food waiting for me. My stomach growled at the thought.
Nick studied my eyes.
"I'll be fine, I don't need your food" I said softly shaking my head. Chris sighed and looked at me. "Just stay" He mumbled the least condescending thing he's said to me all day. I took in a breath and looked at Matt who's eyes pleaded with me.
I swallowed.
"Uh, okay. Fine" I nodded. "Thank you" I whispered, looking between them. Nick smiled and nodded as he walked into the kitchen. Chris just shook his head as he followed. And Matt smiled at me.
I smiled back.
-
I felt eyes on me as I ate. I glanced up as I shoved yet another spoon full of food into my mouth. I set it down before meeting Nick's eyes.
"Is it good?" He chuckled at the speed of which I ate. I wiped the napkin against my face. "Yeah, I love pasta" I breathed chuckling awkwardly. Matt shook his head smiling down at his plate.
The dinner was nearly ending and I had basically licked my plate clean. I wasn't lying. The pasta was incredible. I hadn't had homemade food since my mom got sick over a year ago.
I sighed as I pushed my plate away from me and the boys around me continued to eat. I would have been self consciousabout how fast I devoured the meal, but I was too hungry to care. I hadn't eaten at all that day and I didn't know where my next meal would be.
"Did you take your medicine?" Chris looked up from his plate looking at Matt. Matt looked up from chewing and looked at Chris. He just blinked at him.
"You're suppose to take it with food" He said pointing to his plate. Matt looked away from his clenching his jaw. I just looked between them.
"Did you take it?" He asked again. Matt set his fork down and nodded raising his eyebrows, sending daggers at his brother.
"Okay, Jeez. I was just asking, don't have to get all defensive." Chris mumbled looking back down and shoving his plate away. I looked over at Matt and he stared at the table before pushing off his chair and walking towards his room.
Nick turned his head as he walked away. Chris just shook his head.
"You're not his mother, Chris. He can take care of himself, he knows when to take it" Nick glared at Chris. Nick stood up taking the plates off the table.
"He actually can't, Nick. If we--"
"Don't. We have a guest" Nick looked at me before wondering off towards the sink. Chris looked over at me. I just stared back at him. He sighed and leaned back in his chair.
"So what's your deal?" He asked blaniently. My mouth opened as I stared at me. "My deal?" I asked pointing to myself. You're the one treating me like i'm some random bully-bitch, my mind screamed.
He pursed his lips as his eyes ran over me and all the sudden I felt like I was naked sitting in front of him, I felt so vulnerable. I shifted in my seat. He met my eyes again.
"You don't have food at home" He stated. It wasn't a question. I blinked at him and I felt my cheek redden.
"No I-I do" I nodded looking at him, crossing my arms over my chest. He blinked at me and raised his eyebrows.
Had Matt told him that? Matt didn't even really know that.
"You devoured that meal like it was going to disappear if you didn't eat it in under 3 minutes, you're skin and bones, and you're a bad liar" He tilted his head. I smacked my lips together and looked down.
I didn't know I was that transparent. I took in a breath and turned my embarrassment into anger.
"Didn't your mother ever teach you not to comment on women's bodies?" I breathed glaring at him. His gaze didn't lighten.
"My mother's dead"
My glared dropped and I sat up. "Oh, I didn't know. I'm sorry" I shook my head. He just looked at me and sighed.
"Look, I'm sorry for being such an ass eariler, I shouldn't have--" He sighed, as If this apology was a lot for him. He glanced to the empty seat next to me.
"I misjudged you and I'm sorry" He muttered. I blinked up at him. I shook my head as I played with my fingers. "How do you know you misjudged me? You don't even know me" I mumbled. He licked his lips.
"I've never seen Matt smile so much in one sitting" He stated. I looked up at him, meeting his eyes. "That's how I know I was wrong" He said. I just looked at him.
Matt walked back into the kitchen and slammed the empty pill bottle in front of Chris. Chris looked up at him. Matt raised his eyebrows. Chris stood up and took the pill bottle and rattled it in front of Matt before walking off.
Matt glared at him before looking back towards me. I smiled softly up at him. I stood up before wiping my hands on my jeans. I blinked up at Matt.
"I should go, my dad's probably waiting" I stated. He wasn't. I knew he wasn't. Nick turned around looking at me. "Can I help? Before I go?" I asked as I began to walk toward Nick washing the dishes. He shook his head.
"No, you go. Thanks for coming, try not to steal anymore bandaids" He chuckled. My eyes widened as I glanced over at Matt who furrowed his eyebrows looking at Nick. I swallowed and wrapped my arms around myself.
"Yeah, I'll try" I whispered before walking towards the door. Matt walked behind me before I opened the door. He stepped outside with and I looked up at him.
"Your brothers are nice" I smiled. He tilted his head. I smiled and closed my eyes. "Nick's nice...Chris is....intense" To say the least. Matt nodded. I sighed as I looked away from the house.
"I'll go" I mumbled. "See you tomorrow" I whispered. His mouth parted as I turned from him and walked down the steps. I heard him walk behind me. I turned around and he blinked at me.
"What are you doing?" I asked. He motioned for me to walk. I turned and walked, I heard his footsteps behind me before he walked beside me. I paused and turned to him again.
"Matt, what are you doing?" I asked again. He looked up and motioned around us. To the fact that it was dark. I looked back at him.
"You don't have to walk me home" I shook my head. He just looked at me with a blank expression. I closed my eyes and sighed and turned to walk. He walked with me, sliding his hands into his pockets as he walked next to me.
We walked in silence for a few minutes but I couldn’t help but feel a fire in my chest from Nick’s comment. I didn’t want Matt to know about that. The fact that I stole in general. Let alone from the place his brother worked at.
“I didn’t steal those bandiads because I just wanted to steal. I just….needed them” I defended myself. Matt looked up from the ground and his eyes burned in me.
I wrapped my arms around myself as we walked and I stayed staring at the ground in front of me.
“I don’t want you to think that I’m going to steal from you or your brothers, I would never do something like that Matt I swear—“ I shook my head. I swallowed the lump in my throat.
“I’m not a thief” I whispered.
I didn’t want him to judge me, but he had to have been. I mean who wouldn’t? Stealing is wrong. What I did was wrong. And I knew that. Matt probably knew that too.
He didn’t say anything but he watched me. I didn’t dare look up at him. I didn’t want to read his eyes, because I knew what they were going to tell me.
I felt him pull my arm loose from my around my body. I looked up and his hand slid into mine. I looked down at our hands and then up to him, he just looked forward.
I smiled softly. It was his way of saying:
It’s okay I’m not judging you
I smiled towards the ground.
As we approach my house I felt bad butterflies sworn my stomach. I didn't want him to see my house. My house was big enough for me and my dad, that was it. His house was big enough for an entire family. I swallowed as I stared at my shoes hitting the pavement.
But when we got there. He didn't say anything. He barley looked at my house. He just smiled as I walked into my house and then turned on his feet to walk back.
-
"Do you know Jake Andrews?"
He looked up at me holding my gaze and then looked back towards his book. He shrugged. I nodded and looked back to my book. The only sounds between us were the sounds of his pencil scrapping against the paper.
I tapped my foot as I stared ay book page. I couldn't focus. There was a hockey game tonight and I knew Jake was playing and I half-way told him that I would go. I bit my lip as I read the same words on the page over and over.
It was back then when I-It was back then when I-It was back then when I-
I tapped my foot faster.
I looked up when I felt his hand cover over on my leg, stilling the tapping. His eyes focused in on his page, his glasses swooped on his nose. He lifted his hand from my knee without looking over at me, after he stilled my tapping. My knee burned where he touched me.
"Sorry" I quickly mumbled realizing my tapping must have annoyed him. He didn't react. I set my book down realizing I wasn't getting anywhere with reading the same line over and over again.
"Do you ever go to the hockey games?" I asked turning to him. He sighed and set down his pencil and gave me his full attention.
"Sorry" I shook my head realizing he was trying to focus. I lifted my book and stuck my nose in between the pages.
He reached over and set down my book. I looked over at him and he raised his eyebrows. I brought my knees up to my chest.
"Did you know Jake was on the hockey team?" I asked. He pursed his lips and shrugged. I looked down at the table.
"He wants me to come to his game" I mumbled. Matt stared at me. I rested my chin on my knee before tilting my head towards him.
"Will you go with me? I mean--If I went to the game?" I asked him. He stared at me as if contemplation crossed his face.
He shrugged.
I swallowed and looked down. "I think he wants to be my friend" I stated. I felt Matt's gaze burn into me. I looked up at him he just slowly shook his head. "What?" I asked. He just shook his head.
"Do you not like him or something?" I asked. He sighed and shrugged, annoyance crossing his face. I sighed and picked up my book as I looked at the page.
"Well I think he's nice" I breathed. Matt looked up from his page and looked at me. I didn't turn to look back at him.
-
I smiled as I pushed the doors of the gym open. Matt followed reluctantly behind me. I pulled the jacket tightly over myself as I turned around to look at him.
"This is fun right? I've never been to a hockey game before" I smiled up at him. Blank stare. I smiled and grabbed his arm as I drug him towards the bleachers. He tensed under my touch.
I sat down and he sat next to me as the players skated on the ice in front of us. I looked over at Matt who watched the players on the ice. I shrugged the jacket off my shoulders.
"Do you want your jacket back? I think it's colder in here than outside" I chuckled as I pulled my arm out. He looked down at me and shook his head. I furrowed my eyebrows. "Are you sure?" I asked. He nodded and leaned back.
I pulled the jacket back over me.
"Suit yourself" I mumbled as I looked back towards the ice. My eyes grazed over the players. I spotted one with longer, flowy blonde hair. I tilted my head as he turned. It was Jake. I smiled and he glanced over the bleachers before his eyes landed on me.
He smiled and waved. I smiled and waved back. He turned before he skated in position to start the game.
"See" I leaned over to Matt. "He's nice" I smiled. He raised his eyebrows and bit his lip nodding sarcastically. I pushed him. "Don't be rude" I chuckled. He looked away.
Matt stood up and I looked up at him. He pointed towards the concession stand. I nodded and looked back towards the game. He pointed towards me. I looked up.
"I don't want anything" I shook my head. He just blinked at me for a second before he walked off the bleachers without another word, as I refocused on the game. The puck went into the air and they fought for it.
I didn't really know how hockey worked, and I didn't even know how to skate. Honestly the sport of hockey seemed hard to someone liked me. I couldn't really tell where the puck was, they moved to fast for me to see.
A few minutes passed before Matt came back and handed me an apple. I looked up at him.
"I didn't ask for anything" I said. He sighed and sat down before pulling out his phone and typing something. He moved his phone over to show me.
They didn't have any strawberries, blueberries, or blackberries.
I smiled and chuckled before remembering our previous conversation about my fruit chocies. I shook my head as I took a bite of the apple.
"You have to stop feeding me" I smiled shaking my head. “But thank you” I smiled leaning into him briefly. He just looked down at me. I lifted off of him and leaned forward. He blinked at me for a second before he opened his bottle of Pepsi.
The game wasn't much of anything. It was a back and forth of angry men hitting each other and a puck sometimes going into the goal. I would have been bored out of my mind If I wasn't thinking about what to say to Jake after the game.
If he even wanted to talk to me. If he had other friends waiting to talk to him. Not that he considered me a friend yet, but—I don't know. I pushed my hair behind my face as they skated off the ice.
Matt was quick to stand up. I looked up at him, still sitting.
"Wait, I want to talk to Jake before we go" I breathed. He let out a breath and his jaw hardened as he reluctantly sat back down. It wasn't 5 minutes later before Jake pushed out of the locker room and his eyes landed on me.
I looked over at Matt.
"I'll be right back" I stated, he didn't react. He just looked at me as I stood up and walked off the bleachers towards the boy with flowing blonde hair.
"Hey" He breathed pushing his sweaty hair back. "Hey" I smiled back. "I was happy to see you show up. I didn't think you would" He smiled down at me as he pulled his bag over his shoulder. I smiled and nodded.
"So what are you doing now? Do you want to come eat with some of me and my friends?" He breathed. I blinked up at him not expecting the sudden invitation. I opened my mouth and turned to see Matt still sitting there staring at us.
"Is that who you came with?" Jake's voice brought be back to him. I blinked up at him. "Matt? Yeah, we're friends" I nodded. He furrowed his eyebrows down at me and gave me a weird look.
"What?" I laughed lightly. He shook his head looking off.
“No, I think that's cool. It's just--" He cringed. "Does he talk to you? I don't think i've even seen that kid say a word, he's kind of like a ghost" He chuckled. I raised my eyebrows and looked at my feet.
"I mean he-" I swallowed trying to find the right words. Jake just looked down at me. I felt the pressure from his gaze. "He's a good friend" I nodded blankly. Jake shook his head and chuckled as he looked down at me.
"Is that his jacket?" He pointed to the jacket around my shoulder. I looked down at the jacket over me. "Yeah he---we're friends" I shrugged. Jake nodded and rocked back on his heels.
"Okay" He nodded. I smiled and nodded. "So? Food? Me and my friends?" He asked raising his eyebrows. The words friends rang in my ear. I really wanted to go, but I really didn't want to leave Matt.
"I still need help with that biology thing, we could go to my house after" He smiled tilting his head showing his lop-sided smile. I took in a breath as my mind raced back and forth.
Jake
Matt
Jake
Matt
Jake-
"I-" I turned around to look at Matt but he was gone. My eyes widened as I searched the crowd for a second. Fuck. I turned back to Jake.
"I'm so sorry. Can you just give me one second?" I breathed as I backed away. He chuckled and nodded as he turned. "If you wanna come, my car's out back. You know which one" He smiled before turning away.
The memory of his white leather seats washed over me and I almost forgot what I was doing. Fuck, Matt.
I turned as I pushed through the crowd of people trying to exit the gym. I wasn't that tall so I attempted to look for the brown hair I was searching for, but I couldn't find it.
I pushed out of the doors into the parking lot. I turned in circles before I saw him walking towards the sidewalk. I groaned in annoyance as I chased after him.
"Matt" I yelled. He just kept walking. I ran up to him and grabbed his arm, pulling him back. He looked down at me.
"Matt, what are you doing? Why did you leave?" I asked shaking my head. He glanced behind me and then back down to me.
"You totally just left me in there" I laughed lightly, but slightly frustrated. He’s too good at running away and damn was he fast.
He scowled at me and shook his head before he started walking again. I followed him.
"Wait, what is your problem?" I asked glaring at him. He let out a breath and shook his head before shrugging.
"Is it Jake? Do you not like him or something?" I asked shaking my head trying to understand. He just blinked at me and then shrugged. I looked down at my feet and let go of a breath.
I turned around and saw Jake's car parked outside and a few people crowding around it. I turned back to Matt.
"He wants me to go hang out with him and his friends" I breathed looking up at him. Matt didn't turn to look at the group. His face didn't even change, but his eyes did.
"I wasn't gonna go but-"
He sighed and looked behind me and motioned towards the group. I turned and looked at the group.
"Y/n!" I heard Jake's voice. He waved me over. I looked back at Matt. "Do you care?" I whispered. He paused before shaking his head. I swallowed tapping my foot.
"I'll see you tomorrow then?" I said. He just looked at me and then shrugged. I gave him a smile before turning and walking towards the group.
Then, I paused before walking back over to Matt quickly.
"Matt, wait" I breathed. He turned and looked at me raising his eyebrows, slightly smiling. I shrugged off the jacket.
"Your jacket" I said as I held it out for him to take. His expression became unreadable as I took the jacket out of my hand.
"I'll..see you" I gave a small smile. He stared blankly at me as I turned around and walked away.
601 notes · View notes
risuola · 17 days
Text
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▶ ONE BEDROOM?! — a short memory about how you found yourself sharing a bed with two of your best friends.
contents: college!au, roommates to be, fluffy, silly Satoru, caring Suguru and all that jazz — 0,9k words
a/n: feel free to send me suggestions for entries of this series! any specific situations you think might be funny? any topics that sound interesting to you? let me know!
𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 | series masterlist
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“Alright, I found one,” Satoru informed, a grin of mischief tugging on his lips and both you and Suguru knew immediately that there are some gears turning below the mop of white hair of your best friend. “Near our uni, rent’s cheaper than any other we looked at, it looks nice, and there’s even a balcony for the addict. Available anytime.”
It sounded too good to be true, really. You’ve been looking for weeks now, desperate to find the right balance between the price and quality and it turned out to be the hardest thing you had to face in your lives. It was honestly a nightmare, turned out that you were way too late to find a rental with three rooms in the college area – everything was already taken and you were forced to scratch the idea of all having separate rooms. Two bedrooms, turned out, were just as hard to find. You were slowly coming to terms that you’re gonna have to either spend three hours in metro every day just to get in and out of uni or pay an unreasonable amount of money just to live even moderately close. In your head, you already saw yourself searching for the second job.
“Where’s the catch?” Suguru’s raised an eyebrow, his mind analytic as always and his questioning tone matched your thoughts perfectly. He wrapped one arm around your waist and reached with the other to snatch a phone out of Gojo’s hands, but the snow-whites grin grew even wider as he dodged the attempt. You could feel your friend taking a deeper breath behind your back, you were seated next to him, resting against his body whilst Satoru was on the floor, with his head comfortably on your thigh. “Is it one of those ‘rent a room along with ten other students’ kind of deal?”
“Nah, it’s a separate apartment. It’s not big, by any means, but as far as I’m concerned, it should be more than enough for us,” you reached your hand, but instead of giving you his phone, Gojo put his chin on your palm, smiling with the typical amount of cat-like mischief. “In fact,” he said, pulling the lollipop out of his mouth with a loud pop and threatening to lick you. The trail of sticky sugar covering his lips in a reddish tint from the cherry, his favorite, flavored candy. “I already sent a message to the renter.”
“Toru, spill it,” you pushed, pinching his cheek and with a theatrical roll of his pretty blue eyes, he put his phone into your hand, sticking the candy back into his mouth. You leaned back against Suguru’s chest again and with his head on your shoulder, you swiped through the pictures of the offer. “It… does look nice?”
“Sus,” the brunette mumbled, reaching to swipe over the screen with his own finger. “Very sus. What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing’s wrong with it,” Satoru said in fake offense and got up to his knees to peek on what you two were doing, sticking his nose in front of the screen so aggressively that you had to push him away. “But—”
“Wait, is there one bedroom in this apartment?” You noticed. The pictures you were analyzing all showed the same room and the living area with joined kitchen, the bathroom, and again the same room, and some weird kind of storage? and again the same room.
“That explains a lot,” Suguru laughed lightly and leaned back again.
“We can see the place in an hour” Satoru showed off his pearly whites. “Come on, let’s at least see it, yeah?”
“I guess we can see it,” you gave it a nod. “The price is really nice.”
“Alright… so let’s get going.”
And so, all of you hopped on the bikes, you behind Satoru, and took the ride to see the apartment. Turned out, it really was perfect. Despite the apartment having just one bedroom, it was spacious enough to fit all three of you. The bed was so big it could easily fit five and during the many years of friendship, you and two of your friends shared way too many single person mattresses, sandwiched and squished together to think twice about it. The odd storage room seemed to be a perfect candidate to become a guest room (later called: a fuck room).
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Satoru grinned, looking at both of you as he was bouncing his ass on the bed, testing it as if he was already the owner.
“It is nice, I’ll admit,” you said, looking at Suguru to hear his opinion, but the man seemed to be thinking still. “Sug?”
“For me, it’s perfect. But,” he looked at you, a concern clearly written in his eyes, “is it alright with you?”
Geto has a way of constantly reminding you why you love him. He doesn’t look like it, in fact, he looks quite intimidating to anyone who doesn’t know him, but to you he’s just the sweetest, most caring friend you could ever wish for. If anyone was to worry about your comfort, it was him because it is true that all three of you slept together already, sharing sheets and being as close and personal as it was possible, but a random sleepover doesn’t equal sleeping with them every single day.
“It’s fine with me, don’t worry,” you reassured him, squeezing his bicep playfully.
“If it’s fine with you, then I guess we have a place.”
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taglist: @kibananya, @r0ckst4rjk, @rixo-19, @soraya-daydreams
459 notes · View notes
hysteria-things · 30 days
Text
based off of this
BEREAL
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!nate x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the bereal notification goes off when you and your boyfriend are in an intimate situation.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: PURE FILTH, swearing, unprotected sex, p in v, choking, spanking, hair pulling, dumbification, breeding, ROUGH
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 631
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: DID NOT MEAN TO RELEASE THIS LATE BUT I HAD TO WAIT UNTIL MIDNIGHT SINCE I REACHED THE POST LIMIT AGAIN😭
but anyway matt/chris will be back tomorrow!
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nate’s phone blows up with notifications on the nightstand from the DA BOYZ group chat with nick, matt, and chris — but he’s too busy to check it now.
moaning loudly, your hands clutch at the pillow your head is lying on. your knuckles are white, eyes rolling back so far in your head. it’s been forty-five minutes, and you came twice already.
you guys are making a fucking mess, but neither of you cares at this moment. his and your cum combined slap against your thighs, a string of arousal connecting and breaking each time he thrusts into you. you mumble something into the pillows, but it’s so incoherent that it sounds like a moan.
his hand is wrapped tightly around your neck, the other one running up and down the small of your back. he’s so deep inside your cunt that you seriously don’t know how he does it.
drool drips down your chin and onto the sheets below, body becoming rag doll-like when your grip starts to loosen and you start to rock violently to the speed of the way he’s plowing hard into you with no mercy. “there she is; getting fucked stupid on my cock because that’s all you have to fucking live for.”
only groaning in response, you start to see specks of white every time you blink. your pussy is so tight around his dick that it makes it hard for him to move. nate’s so balls deep that it feels like he’s in your throat.
silenced screams go past your lips as the headboard bangs rapidly against his bedroom wall, his tip brushing against your g-spot for the nth time tonight. he moans, grabbing your ass and jiggling it before slapping it. “might have to put my kid in ya.” he hisses, giving it another hit. “i need to breed this pussy full. you let me use it so well.”
catching a glimpse at his lit phone screen, he sees a specific notification pop up:
⚠️time to bereal⚠️
2 min left to capture a bereal to see what your friends are up to!
he smirks, grabbing his phone and opening the app. he points the camera to his face as the time counts down. eyes hooded and lips swollen, a handful of hickeys decorate his neck in red and purple, along with a few scratch marks on his chest.
pressing the white button at the bottom of the screen, he grips the top of your hair to yank your head off the pillow. he quickly turns his phone around, the back camera getting your face into view.
nate waits patiently a few seconds for the picture to render, letting go of your head so he can upload it. this is the first time he’s seen what you look like all night.
strands of hair are disheveled or stuck to your forehead from sweating, eyes crossed with your tongue sticking out like a dog. that poor brain of yours thinking only about nate’s cock fucking the shit out of you.
“i’m cu-mming.” you hiccup, shaking violently as you’re overstimulated from three hard orgasms. the boy behind you licks his lips, stopping deep before spurts of his hot cum fill your womb.
seconds later, reactions come flooding in on his post. some are from peers from high school, while the rest are from the crew.
madi’s eyes are wide, her hand covering her mouth.
nick looks disgusted, his face half out of the frame.
matt’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline, mouth hanging open in complete shock.
last but not least, chris smiles widely at the camera with a big thumbs up.
matthew.sturniolo: oh brother
nicolassturniolo: NATHAN DOE.
user: she’s living the dream, i’m afraid…
madifilipowicz: 😟
user: HE HAS BITCHES???
christophersturniolo: get that pussy bro😝
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𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @sturniolotriplettoplover @stars4matt @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @catalina-island @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @stellarsturns @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @crazychrisl0v3r @maggieflms @strtuniolo @mutualsafe @riasturns @sturniolowhore @antpile00 @ashley9282828 @stingerayyy2
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teabutmakeitazure · 10 months
Text
Dissimulation
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>Yan! Mafia! Childe x Fem! Student! Reader (Modern au)
>Word Count: 11.6k words (slow burn)
>a/n: my offering for best boy's birthday
Warnings: coercion, Childe doesn’t know how to flirt, blood is finger licking good, panic attack
An unwelcome customer turned into an unwelcome acquaintance has been terrorising your life starting from your minimum wage job. Perhaps your flight back home is your only way out.
Continuation
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Patience is a sign of virtue. Or at least that’s what your mother taught you when you were growing up. No, it’s all just some elaborate scheme for the notorious members of society to make others more docile and submissive to them.
Regardless, you don’t say anything, tired already as it is and just wait for the month to be over so that you can get your pay and go back home.
Even if he seems to like you, you would rather not push your luck. Despite only being in this city as a student, you’ve picked up that it’s best not to engage with the local mafia members, even if they seem friendly. Just keep your head down and return the greeting if given one. If one of them comes to your shop, treat them as a regular patron, and if a fight breaks out somewhere with one of them, do not take sides. Simply leave as quietly as you can.
Unfortunately, you have no such choice or opportunity to keep contact to a minimum. That is why you opted to bide your time and sneak out as quickly as you can and never opt for minimum wage jobs again. Maybe you could get a paid internship next time. You’ll probably meet the course requirements.
The dreaded convenience store you are currently walking to is situated a ten minute walk away from your campus dorms. Having to stay there and beep items all day was its own form of punishment as it was, but with the crowd that had recently started to come in these last few months, it started to seem more like a form of purgatory.
You still remember the lecture your friend had given you on how to act normal around the mafia community. The fact that they recently got active in this neighbourhood is simply an added bonus. Honestly, you’ve been counting the days when your incarceration will end with your flight. You just want to go home and hug your cats first, family members second. 
The bell chimes as you walk inside, and you sigh when you see the mess of ginger hair and a dangling red earring already waiting for you. At least this time his back is turned while he scrolls his phone even if he is sitting near the register.
About that, where’s the manager? He should be at the register right now since your shift just started.
“You’re late,” the dreaded man scrolling his phone points out, eyes not leaving the phone screen.
Keeping your friend’s advice in mind, you decide to reply before twisting the knob to the employee room. “Sorry. I was doing laundry.” A lie but you aren’t going to tell him that you got distracted watching cat videos.
No greetings were exchanged and he didn’t even look up at you. Strange, but it’s best to only reply when talked to. Getting too friendly might backfire.
Still, you decide to say something just for good measure.
“Is the manager in today?” you ask, eyes on him while your hand remains on the knob.
All you receive in response is a shrug.
Thus, you enter the employee room, and there you have it! Mister manager sits on the desk in all his white polo shirt glory.
The door hinges squeak loudly behind you when you close the door. Stepping to the desk, his head slowly rises to look at you when you greet him, but he doesn’t respond. After you’ve slipped on the employee uniform jacket and pinned your nametag, he speaks.
“I may have made a mistake.”
That causes you to frown. “What happened?”
“The guy outside… I… I didn’t realise he’s a high ranking member. I may have asked him to leave because he’s been here for half an hour already and… well…”
“Well, what?”
He shakes his head. “Well, he sort of jokingly said that the building belongs to his division and that the store could close if he wanted it to.”
“...”
“Look. I know you’re a student, so I promise I’ll pay you somehow, but please! He listens to you, right? Try to appease him!”
                        
You groan. “I’m sure he meant it as a joke.”
“Please!”
“Alright alright. I’ll… try.”
Honestly, you don’t know what you’re going to do. He’s a higher ranking member, you know that much, but why he even bothers to be so friendly and chatty with you is out of your scope of understanding. At least now those tough looking ones that drop by in the evening don’t test your patience anymore.
Cautiously, you open the employees room door and head back outside. There’s still no one in the store, but you know that afternoon rush hour is about to start. With you on the register seat, the dreaded man who will stay with you on another shift turns his body to face you, phone immediately slipping into his pocket.
“So,” he drawls, “was the manager inside?”
You put your phone on the little shelf underneath the cash drawer. “Yes. He was inside.”
“Was he mad?”
“Um no.” You look at him questioningly, brow raising when he just smiles. “Should he be?”
“Who knows?”
“Right…”
Silence ensues and you briefly ask yourself why he’s less chatty today. You can’t believe that it’s concerning you. Sure, he’s a very dangerous person if he’s so young and in the mafia of all things, but dangerous people are downright terrifying if pissed. At least you’re not the one at fault. Besides, three more weeks and it will be time for your flight.
You just hope you make it.
“Something on your mind?”
He’s looking at you now, cheek resting in his palm. He’s even gotten closer, next to you to be precise. You don’t think you heard him get closer.
Nervously, you give a little laugh. “It’s nothing.”
“Are you sure?” Dull blue eyes bore into yours, gently forcing you to answer truthfully. The lack of vitality in them unnerves you but that is precisely what compels you to answer.
“Well… the manager said that you might get the store to close…”
“That? I didn’t think he’d tell you. Anyway, I was messing around,” he smiles. “You’re a student, so it would be unfair to you to suffer in consequence to him.”
The statement doesn’t make you feel any better. “Ah, you’re too kind sir Tartaglia.”
Like before, the way you addressed him makes him frown. “Just call me Childe. Tartaglia is only for my men. Though… if you would prefer…” he leans in, hand that was previously holding his face now gripping the edge of the table as he whispers dangerously close to your ear, “I’d gladly tell you my birth name.”
He backed away again, a smile on his face. “And I know you wouldn’t tell anyone haha.”
How do you even reply to that?
Scratch that, should you even reply to that?
He’s looking at you again, that smile that doesn’t reach his eyes gracing his lips and impatience oozing from his face. You sense that he’s waiting for an answer so you try your best to comply.
“Understood... Childe.”
The name feels foreign on your tongue, and you blame the unfamiliarity on the nervousness that comes with being near him. Thankfully your answer seemed to appease him and he happily nodded.
Okay, one problem solved. You’ll get your minimum wage salary. Another problem. You’ll have to endure the awkwardness because you don’t have it in you to call him out.
As if on cue, your employer exits the employee room and heads for the exit without even looking at you. The fast walking didn’t make his exit any graceful, but it did make it seem important with how Childe eyed his movements.
Silence settles again as you blankly stare at the empty store in front of you. Regrettably, you’re a little worried about what might happen when you’ll be back after summer vacation. You never told him that you’re leaving for home and the white polo dunce of a manager has been sworn to secrecy about it after he flat out told Childe which institution you study at right in front of you.
Protecting your personal details is your job, so you’ve taken it into your own hands. It isn’t wise to tell a mafia member who obviously pines to be more than just acquaintances about your personal life and details. Thus, you will slip away to home on a weekend flight.
What happens after you’re back is something you didn’t consider.
Well, almost two months would have passed by then. Surely he wouldn’t care anymore… right?
You hope he doesn’t. Perhaps it would be best to avoid this neighbourhood. Maybe even look into school transfers to be safe.
“Something’s on your mind again.”
His voice cuts through the air like a dart and lodges into your head. Is it so wrong to simply want some peace? No wait. Peace is bad. If he's quiet then that’s bad. You’ll have to humour him.
Thus, you take a deep breath. Act normal, you tell yourself. You aren’t the criminal here. You’re a humble student trying to earn some money. Relax. 
“Well,” you drawl, “I’m just spacing out.”
You don’t even look at him, eyes still fixed on the empty store.
“You must be thinking about something.”
Grumbling, you internally curse your luck. Patience is running out and you don’t know how long you can remain civil with him breathing down your neck like this. Maybe he had a bad day and that’s why he’s more inquisitive than chatty.
“Nothing,” you sigh. “I’m not thinking about anything. Just waiting for rush hour to start so that my shift can go by quickly and I can go home and sleep.”
“Hm.” He’s closer now, and you can see him in the corner of your eye. “So you’re tired of this job?”
“Tired of the people that come here actually. Most of them are so shady it’s unreal.” Now that that’s said, you hope he doesn’t realise that the jab is actually at him.
“I realise that. I saw what kind of crooks used to come here. They mostly thought they could intimidate the people working here, but all that’s in the past now.”
Well, you do owe him the credit of straightening them out. If it wasn’t for Childe, you’d still have to endure taunts from those weirdos about how they can take anything from the store and you can’t do anything about it. Regardless, you can’t be certain whether his presence is actually good or bad.
“Anyway,” he’s behind you now, hands suddenly on your shoulders, “you’re not from here, right? Any plans to visit home for the summer?”
Well… shit.
How do you go about this… 
You never told him that you’re not from this city, so that can only mean that white shirt dunce did. Great. 
“I’m not sure,” you reply. Would it be wise to ask him how much he knows? Childe does seem to be friendly in all the weeks you’ve known him. Ah. You’ll take that chance. Slowly turning around in your chair, his hands remove themselves from your shoulders when you face him. “Did my manager tell you anything?”
Now you’re looking into his eyes, but he doesn’t seem affected at all.
“I asked him about it. He told me that you might go home for the summer if you can afford the ticket.”
Okay so maybe the manager saved you a little there, but you still need to answer him. So, you settle with going with what he said. 
Nodding, you look at Childe standing in front of you again. “I'm planning to decide by the end of this month. If I do go home, I'll put in a one week notice. Hopefully it isn't a problem."
He smiles. "Don't worry. It won't be."
You can't tell if he's comforting you or making notes to assist you. Either way, he doesn't know about your flight. Figuring out how to get him off your back when you come back for the next semester will be for when you're home.
"Anyway," Childe says, breaking the silence, "are you doing anything after your shift?"
Where did that come from?
Tilting your head a little, you act innocent in hopes he gets the hint. "Depends on what I'm asked. I do have some pending work. Why? Do you need me for something?"
"No. Just asking. What about tomorrow?"
"I'm not sure about tomorrow yet…"
Childe chuckles. "Then how about you make a reservation for the evening, with me?"
"W-why?"
"I just wanted to take you out for dinner. Is that alright?"
Did… did you just get asked out on a date?
Seeing your confusion, Childe chuckles again. “I promise I’m not going to kidnap you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’ll just take you out, treat you to dinner, and drop you home. No shady stuff.” He raises his hands in mock surrender, tongue teasingly peeking out.
You suppose there’s no way out of this, but still try nonetheless. “What if something important comes up? Would it be okay to… cancel…?”
His hands go back to his hips. “Important? What could be more important?”
“Um, my summer courses? I still get assignments for those…” You hope that doesn’t offend him, but judging from his face he looks more confused than angry.
Childe clicks his tongue, a scolding look on his face. “You can’t get an assignment with a same day submission date, so that’s out of the question. But hearing your response, it’s alright if you’d rather not go.” He sits back down, arms crossed. “I would prefer it if you'd be honest with me. Prevaricating with lies is more than just annoying, you know.”
In the silence of the store, you can feel your heart beating loudly in your ears, the thump a scolding sound for your stupidity. If he’s angry with you, who knows what could happen. “No! Not at all. That’s not what I meant.” Your patience is still being tested but at this very moment you’re more fearful. “I’m just worried because those courses are counted in my cumulative GPA, and I can’t afford to let it drop!”
“So you’re only worried about your grades?”
“Yes!”
“And you’re not opposed to getting dinner with me?”
“Yes! Wait…”
He smiles. “Go on~”
You narrow your eyes at him, fear all gone and annoyance taking its place. “I sense I’ve made a mistake here.”
The teasing smile turns into an encouraging one and with a sigh, you surrender. “Fine. I’ll go with you.”
He gives a little celebratory ‘yes’ but you cut him short. “But I need to be back home by ten max.”
“Wait… your shift ends at seven…”
You cross your arms, finally getting back at him. “And what about it?” Seriously. Was he planning to hog your entire evening?
“That’s way too short!”
“I have a curfew placed on me by my mother back home. If I phone her any later than ten pm local time, she loses it. I would rather not be screamed at.”
“Alright. That’s fair.”
Now that that’s done, you still can’t believe you just agreed to a date with him.
However, Childe looks more than just ecstatic. He’s practically jumping in his seat, leg bouncing up and down and a wide smile on his face. When you raise a brow at that, he just smiles at you, practically oozing happiness.
He stays the same way, quiet and happy and fidgety as customers start to come in. As usual, he doesn’t say anything while you’re ringing them up and just stares. It’s when the rush dies down a little and only one guy is in the store that he speaks.
“Don’t you ever get tired of working so hard?”
You look at him from the corner of your eye. With his face in his palm, he’s staring directly at you. “I’m beeping items with a barcode scanner. I don’t see why it’s hard.”
“It is actually,” Childe says, firm in his statement. “I think you’re just used to the extra work so you don’t find it bothersome.”
“Maybe,” you shrug.
“Hm. You deserve better. Perhaps… someone who would take care of you, no questions asked. Someone… who would treat you as you deserve, cherish you, and make you happy.”
The way he speaks makes you uncomfortable, but you don’t let it show. Patience, you remind yourself. A few more weeks and you’ll be gone.
“There’s no need for others to look at you like this.” He sighs, “I hope that changes soon.”
You have no idea what he’s talking about, so you’re grateful the guy who was browsing the drinks for the last five minutes finally came to the counter. You busy yourself with billing him, but Childe just… stares. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you for a second.
Now, the regret of agreeing to dinner seeps in.
The customer leaves, and as soon as the door closes, you hear a phone buzzing. Before you even look at your phone, Childe has already pulled his out of his pocket and answers. He doesn’t give a response to whatever was said on the other side, brows furrowing as he cuts the call.
The chairlegs drag against the floor when he stands. “Sorry but I have to go.”
You don’t dare question the oddity despite your surprise to him leaving before your shift ends. “Alright.”
“I’ll pick you up outside your dorm. Is that okay?”
“Okay but what time-”
“I have your number. I’ll text you, don’t worry.”
With that, he’s out, leaving you confused inside the store. Considering the lack of smile and the fact that this is the first time he left before seven pm, it must have been something work related.
You just hope nothing advances after the dinner tomorrow.
-
He really does have your number. You don’t remember ever giving it to him, so you don’t dare question how he got his hands on it. At exactly 8: 06 pm he texted you that he would pick you up at 7: 30 pm outside your dorm tomorrow. That means that you would have around ten minutes to get ready. 
Ten minutes are too much. You’re only going to change, maybe put on some lip gloss if you look too dead. No makeup and no accessories that could possibly make you look more attractive. Simple and plain is the goal.
Speaking of dinner, you’re going to have dinner with a mafioso. Perhaps you really should look into school transfers during the summer.
This sort of vicissitude was not welcome in the slightest, but you’ll have to work around it. If nothing else, you’re thankful that Childe is respectful of most basic boundaries and hasn’t attempted anything yet. Maybe if he wasn’t working where he was, you would’ve given him the time of day.
At 8: 19 pm, he texts you again. ‘Make sure to dress well :) I’d like to see you in a dress if you have any.’
Dress? Does he mean a fancy one? You send back a message asking for clarification, but he only replies with, ‘Anything casual and cute would work.’
Casual and cute… is he really bluntly asking you that?
7: 17 pm. You kick off your shoes and head inside, dashing straight to the bathroom to wash your face. You’re less tired than usual because of Childe’s absence at the store today, something that made the manager anxious, but you didn’t dare tell him about the date.
7: 23 pm. You change into the baby blue Gingham maxi dress you bought a week before finals. It flows just fine, and you grace the look only with pearl studs. Wallet and phone are shoved into the pockets of the dress, and to not look soulless, you apply some lip gloss. The gloss is also stuffed into your pocket in case you want to reapply it later, which you would rather not but you never know. 
7: 28 pm. You set your hair again and slip on your sandals. One last look in the mirror and you give yourself a thumbs up. The look is something you would wear to a casual hangout with friends. Doesn’t look very try-hard or date-like. Perfect.
7: 30 pm. You open the door and head out. Pushing the elevator button, you check your phone for any messages while the elevator reaches your floor. Sudden nervousness makes you a little nauseous, but you breathe in slowly, telling yourself it’s no big deal.
The elevator door opens and as you step in, you collide with a very firm body. One look to the face of this body, and you’re frozen.
“Going somewhere?”
You nervously chuckle. “Childe. What’re you doing here?”
He ushers you both inside the elevator, pushing the ground floor button. “I’m here to pick you up? Did you forget about dinner?”
“Ah, no… it’s just… they don’t allow outsiders without a resident escorting them. I was going to wait in the lobby.”
“Really? The watchman let me in pretty easily.”
You don’t even want to know what that means.
“Anyway,” Childe says, voice louder than the gentle elevator music, “you look lovely.”
You glance at his maroon button down and roman silver dress pants, eyes resting on his earring. “Thanks. You look… fine as well.”
“Fine? I only look fine?” He’s leaning towards you now, and the elevator suddenly feels too small. Before you can be pressured into a reply, the doors open and you hastily step out into the lobby.
A chuckle comes from behind you, and soon you’re following him outside to a black car parked a little farther from the dorm entrance. With every step you take, you pray that no one left in your building for the summer catches you.
The car is unlocked with a beep, and though you’re a borderline broke student with no knowledge of expensive things because you can’t afford them so why bother, you can tell that the car is expensive. Or maybe it’s just polished to perfection, but it looks expensive.
Regardless, this is the hard part. Do you sit in the front seat or the back seat? The back seat would be rude but the front seat would be too straightforward. The front seat is too intimate and close but the back seat is too alienating. Shit. What do you do?
You leave your choice to luck and close your eyes, reaching for a door handle. Whichever you grab will be where you sit. Upon grabbing one, you open the door just to hear another one open as well. You open your eyes and a car speeds by at the same time.
Childe stands next to the open front seat door, a brow raised as he looks at you incredulously. You look at him, then to the door you just opened, then to him again. The door you opened is graced with your gaze once again before it’s Childe’s turn.
It’s silent, awkward, and you can’t shake the feeling that you messed up before the date even started.
“Would you… prefer the back seat?”
You blink at him, courage all gone when you reply. “Ah, no! It’s not that. I-I just wasn’t thinking. Sorry…”
Childe’s brow is still raised. “Okay. I’m not your driver. I’m your date. So, I’d like it if you sat in the front.”
Shit. Everything has gone to shit. You agreed to the dinner just to appease him and leave things on a good note instead of a sour one, yet you’ve already made things bad. Great job, [Name]. Aren’t you just wonderful?
Awkwardly, you close the door you opened and get in, allowing Childe to shut the door next to you before slipping into the driver’s seat. He starts the car, puts on his seatbelt, cracks his fingers, and folds his sleeves to the elbow before exiting the parking and going onto the road.
Your seatbelt feels uncomfortable in the heavy silence. Thoughts of what Childe might do if displeased swirl inside your mind but you frankly don’t know what. He seems to like you. He has never mistreated you besides being creepy a few times. Perhaps he’d forgive you. He always says your airheadedness is cute.
The pounding heart inside your chest gets more aggressive when Childe clears his throat, lips parting to give you another mini heart attack. “Aren’t you going to ask where we’re going?”
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a secret.”
The pounding heart quiets down a little, confusion kicking away some of the anxiety. “Then it’s good I didn’t ask out of my own accord.”
A secret? What does he mean by that? Scratch that, is the location being a secret a good thing or a bad thing? Should you text your live location to someone? But all your friends are gone for the summer. That one girl you’re acquainted with on one of the upper floors might help if you disappear. At the very least, your jokes in the conversations you’ve had might at least let her sympathise enough to report your status to the police.
“Are you scared?”
Childe’s question makes you look at him, your heart going back to pounding crazily upon seeing his smile. “S-should I be?”
“No. You should never be scared when you’re with me.” His eyes are still on the road. “I realise you have a negative impression of me, but there’s no reason for you to be scared. Well, not you but others should be, but that’s besides the point.”
“Ah. I see.” No. You don’t see, but just go along.
“Mhm. That dress looks amazing on you.”
He takes a right turn at the green traffic light, and you briefly glance at his flexing arms as the steering wheel turns. “Thanks,” you reply. “The dress has pockets.”
As a demonstration, you pull out your phone and show it to him. Childe chuckles at that, calling it cute and you find your heartbeat growing tamer. The phone is shoved back inside and pleasant conversation fills the car on the way.
Childe asks about how university is, how your finals went, and how you’ve come to find the city. You answer the last question truthfully, hands fidgeting as you tell him about your reservations with the ‘law and order’ situation and how you’ve been begged to steer clear of the mafia. The statement is followed by a joke of you doing a horrible job at that, and Childe laughs, saying that you don’t have to be afraid of anyone in the city anymore.
The comforting sentence doesn’t comfort you at all.
The car stops in front of a restaurant and Childe opens the door to allow you to step out. Keys are given for valet parking, and Childe takes your hand as he leads you inside. Thankfully, it’s not as fancy as you thought. It’s not even as expensive, the kind of restaurant where you could arrange a fancy friend get-together. 
The not so high end restaurant doesn’t make you uncomfortable, but sitting across Childe does. He apparently made a reservation for the rooftop, so here you are, wind gently blowing in your hair as he unbuttons another button of his shirt.
“Do you like it?” He’s looking at you now, eyes briefly going to your phone when you place it on the table.
“It’s… nice.”
“I didn’t choose somewhere any fancier because I figured you might get uncomfortable. Next time though.”
Next time? Good God what is he planning?
Your face may have given it away because he's tilting his head at you, earring dangling in tandem as he acts coy. "Is something wrong? Do you not like the idea?"
"N-no. That's not it…"
"Hm?"
You gulp. "Ah it was just a little sudden. That's all."
"I'm glad." He's back to smiling now, face resting on his palm. "I'll make sure to treat you like how you should be next time."
Again, next time? Not happening.
Childe grabs the menu, requesting that you let him order for you both. He says something about the taste of home and this restaurant being the only one able to recreate that, but you don't bother. You simply brush him off, telling him he can go ahead.
It's when a few minutes have passed since ordering that he speaks again. Luckily, the clanking of plates and chatter helps tone down your nervousness.
"I come here whenever I miss home. This restaurant actually originated from my homeland, so I thought I'd bring you here. It's not high end as well, so that's an added bonus."
You nod. "Interesting."
Elbow on the table, he rests his chin on the back of his hand, blue eyes studying you carefully. The observant gaze makes you feel small, and you end up clearing your throat when his gaze drops to your collarbone.
You look him in the eye as you speak. "It's a little awkward, isn't it?" 
He tilts his head like earlier again. "What is?"
"The silence."
"Ah. Sorry. I just couldn't help myself. You look stunning."
Unlike the previous times, the compliment makes your cheeks heat up. It's probably because this time he's looking right at you with the faint hint of red on his cheekbones. Seriously. He's so human. You wonder how he ended up being in the mafia.
Childe doesn't allow silence to settle again, chatting away about his homeland and how he misses the snow. He says it's easier to go outside in this city's climate, but the memories and people back home make living there worth it. During his rambling, you simply nod along, only adding in a comment wherever you deem necessary.
Patience, you tell yourself. This'll pass. At least you're fortunate in the sense that Childe is accommodating and nice. 
He continues rambling, telling you about his younger siblings. Fulgent expression and energetic voice, you lean forward to give him your attention, content that he's making good conversation. As you listen to him, your fingers start fidgeting with the cutlery set in front of you.
Your eyes remain on him as he recounts a story where his youngest brother Teucer refused to acknowledge his sister Tonia after she got a haircut. Hearing about the young child's inability to recognise his sister makes you chuckle which in turn makes Childe pause to look at you with widened eyes.
A smile stretches on his lips, and you trace the edges of the knife when he resumes. 
"Mama was pretty concerned about that. It took Teucer a few days to accept that his sister looks different now. Ah. I miss them. They're a lively bunch and I miss being with them."
Your thumb runs up and down the edge of the knife while it's clutched in your hand, face resting in the palm of your free hand. "You can visit them if you miss them that much."
Childe gently shakes his head, hair swaying with the movement. "It's not possible at the moment." At your confused expression, he clarifies, "I can't tell you why. It's confidential information."
"That's fair."
"But I am glad I still get to be here. I got to meet you, after all."
"Oh. That's… nice."
"Mhm." He's leaning towards you as well now, both arms resting on the table. "Any development in your plan to visit home? You should go. If you're having any problems with the plane ticket or something then-"
"Ouch!"
The knife drops from your hand, clattering dully on the table. Blood oozes from the pad of your thumb as your hands shake from the startle. It doesn't take Childe even a second to be on his guard.
"You cut your thumb?" He gets up, drags his chair beside you and sits, knees brushing against yours. "You were fidgeting with the knife… well, no matter."
Instead of grabbing a tissue, he takes a hold of your hand and stares at the bleeding cut. More blood oozes out of it the longer he stares and one drop even reaches your palm. However, that isn't what's bothering you. It's the fact that he just licked that blood trail. 
He licked it. And now he's sucking on where the cut should be.
The feeling of his tongue is what brings you back to your senses, confusion and panic overtaking your senses and overwhelming you. Pulling your hand away does nothing because his grip is too strong. Goodness, at least the few tables around you are empty and no one else seems to be looking.
"Childe."
He doesn't let go, pressing your thumb down against his tongue instead.
"Childe. Let go-"
A trail of saliva joins your thumb and his mouth. The two of you make eye contact and you notice a slight blush on his face. Childe then manoeuvres your hand, his lips on your palm as he tenderly kisses the skin messily. 
The action gives you goosebumps but you remain quiet, still confused about what's going on. It's when he finally lets go and presses a tissue to the cut that he speaks.
"Be careful."
You remain frozen, hand in his while the tissue remains pressed over your thumb. You can no longer hear the faint background chatter or feel the gentle breeze in your hair. In your senses are dull blue eyes, freckles dusted across cheekbones and nose, and warm breath fanning over your ear when he leans in.
Childe's voice is a whisper, the edges of his hair tickling your cheek as the chair quietly croaks. "You shouldn't be playing with dangerous things."
He leans back again. With a smile, Childe gets up, drags his chair back to where it was, and seats himself. The air surrounding you both is casual, light, like something completely out of the blue didn't occur. This gives you the hint that it's best to not talk about it.
Elbows on the table, both his palms hold his face as he looks at you with a smile. The skin under his eyes crinkles slightly, freckled cheeks squished, and long auburn eyelashes framing the deep blues. You sit there puzzled and feeling slightly violated while Childe continues staring.
It's honestly a little funny.
Right when you concluded that Childe was nice, he does something completely uncalled for. You remove the tissue that was pressed to your thumb, pleased to see that your blood cells have done their job and the platelets coagulated. It'll probably turn into a scab by the time you get home.
Dammit, now you're nervous all over again. Curse you mass of neurons floating in cerebral fluid! Be useful! Sure, he just sucked on your thumb, but keep it together.
When you look at him again, he's still staring. With a sigh, you ask him about his job, what kind of work he does, but Childe only shakes his head, refusing to answer.
His excuse smoothly exits via soft, pink lips. You didn't know you were looking at them until you heard him speak.
"I don't think you'd enjoy hearing about my job. Plus, it's all confidential."
You will yourself to look back into his eyes no matter how difficult eye contact may seem. "Shady? Is that what you're implying?"
"Hm." He hums. "Let's just leave it at that."
So he admits it? Great. You can't wait for the evening to be over. The bag of chips sitting at home sounds very comforting and appetising right now.
When he continues talking again, you start fidgeting with the edges of your sleeves under the table. You need a distraction. Using your phone would be rude, so you figure abusing the fabric of your sleeves is a better option. It takes a little while for your food to be here, but when it is, you compliment his order and ask him about his choice.
The question serves to keep the conversation easy and light while allowing you to only answer, not speak. This in turn allows nothing uncomfortable to occur during dinner. It’s thankfully uneventful until it's time to pay.
You had no qualms about paying for yourself, but being Childe, he told you he’d take care of it. You had no problem with that either. What you did have a problem with was what he said.
“Let me treat my girl.”
My girl. That’s what he called you. If that’s not a red flag, you don’t know what is. Despite that, you suck it in and let him take you home. Patience. You’ll leave soon and never show your face in his active districts again. Maybe you’ll even transfer schools if you’re lucky.
You’re really hoping you can transfer. He might come find you himself after you come back from summer break. Even with all those troublesome thoughts in mind, you act as casual as you could while sitting in his car as he drives you home. Conversation was nice, the thumb incident was borderline violating, but the meal was tasty.
The car stops near your dorm’s entrance, but before you could make any move to exit the car - hand hovering over the handle - Childe locks the doors. You turn to look at him but he’s already looking at you.
“I need to ask you something,” he says, voice unsure and eyes not meeting yours.
Tentatively nodding, you signal him to continue.
“Did you… enjoy yourself?”
“Huh?” You scold yourself mentally for the confused expression. Clearing your throat, you compose yourself. “Yeah. As far as enjoying dinner goes.”
His eyes finally meet yours, and the eye contact is intense. “I take it that you’d like to do this again?”
“...”
“I don’t mean immediately but maybe sometime in the future?”
Sighing, you slump in your seat. “I can’t be sure.” It’s better to make things clear and not lead him on, even if it’s harsh. “I’m not… looking for something right now. It would be unfair to say yes to you when I don’t mean it.”
Childe’s grip on the edge of his seat tightens, the leather squeaking as it gets abused. “I understand. But that doesn’t mean that you don’t like me, right?”
“Um, yeah.” You can’t pull your eyes away from his. “You’re… nice.”
He blinks. “I’m nice?”
“Yes.”
Childe’s mouth opens in disbelief before he goes back to his senses with a shake of his head. He leans towards you, hand grabbing the back of your seat and eyes widened. “So that means I have a chance?”
“Well,” you laugh awkwardly, “I never said you didn’t. I just said that-”
“I know I know. You’re not looking for something right now, but that doesn’t mean you won’t change your mind later. I’m not going to do something weird, don’t worry. I just… won’t give up.” He’s smiling as he speaks, happy at the prospect of not being rejected. “I’ll keep trying!”
Honestly, the determination he has is cute but it’s almost 10 pm. “That’s great and all, but could you unlock the door? I really need to go.”
“Oh, of course.” The doors unlock with a soft click and Childe bids you goodbye with another concerning statement. “I’ll make sure you change your mind. It’s a promise.”
The chips in your room lived to see another day.
-
The events of last night’s dinner keep replaying in your mind. It’s like a curse, the moment when Childe grabbed your wrist and gently shoved your thumb inside his mouth. Even with the bandage over it, you can still feel the ghost of his tongue, wet and warm, licking it.
You stop in your tracks to shiver.
It’s infuriating how even on your way to your shift you can only think of him and how he promised to change your mind. So much for leaving without any trouble. Can’t he take a hint? Maybe he’s too dense. It does seem characteristic of him.
The bell chimes when you open the door and head inside. A few customers are browsing the store, one middle aged woman and two office workers to be precise, while the manager sits by the cash register. His white polo shirt greets you before he does and by the time you come back from the employee room changed into your uniform jacket and nametag, the customers are gone.
Beloved and totally not airheaded manager moves away from the register, handing you a little list of work to do and announces that he’s leaving to meet up with someone.
Not even ten minutes of him being gone and the dreaded blue eyed mafioso walks in.
The bell chimes to signal his arrival, and unfortunately you meet his eyes as he stands at the entrance. He’s dressed too casually today, a white T-shirt with some band name on it, blue jeans and white sneakers. If you weren’t aware of his lifestyle, you would’ve thought that he was just another young adult on the street.
“Hi!”
You return his greeting with a simple nod, and he comes in. The only sound is his footsteps till he stops on the other side of the register. You meet his dead eyes again, regret instantly seeping into your bones. Childe’s gaze is affectionate, soft. Being on the receiving end of such a look is overwhelmingly foreign and uncomfortable. 
The freckles dusted across his cheekbones and nose catch your attention, but they fail to be graced with your eyes for long. You immediately look away when you realise you started to stare.
Regardless, Childe acts as though he didn’t notice and rounds the register to sit on the chair next to you like always. He doesn’t speak of the date. Typical conversation plays out, much to your surprise, and you mentally curse yourself for expecting him to bring up yesterday evening.
However, it’s not his casual physiognomy that bothers you. It’s his friendliness and the fact that he has started messaging you like one would a friend. Just yesterday he had texted you for the first time in his life and now he’s spamming you funny videos and memes?
Should… should you be worried?
It might prove to be more difficult to shrug him off. You didn’t want to be harsh and outright reject him for him after how he had seemingly tried to be kind and took you out for dinner, but now it seems like that would have been the correct course of action. It’s not that you’re rejecting him solely on the basis of being a part of the mafia. It’s simply your desire to not be in a relationship right now.
Perhaps he’ll respect your wishes like he did last night, even if he did claim that he will keep trying.
-
You should not push your luck. Really. You shouldn’t. You shan’t do so.
First, you leave his meme spams on read. Then, you have the gall to address him as ‘sir Tartaglia’ again by mistake. The instant fall of his smile had sent a shiver down your spine and reminded you of why you told yourself to be careful. Just because he likes you doesn’t mean you’re safe.
Maybe you are, but that change of expression has creeped you out to no end. It’s better to be safe than sorry.
It has been two weeks since the dinner and Childe has settled with chatting with you over text during the late night hours. Tonight, however, you’ve put your phone away in favour of watching something on your laptop. The screen illuminates your face in the darkness of your room, and your phone’s buzzing briefly catches your attention.
You ignore it, obviously. You’re leaving in one week. This little ‘friendship’ or whatever one could call it is pointless. You’ve already planned on blocking Childe on all the socials he’s invaded as soon as you reach home, a step towards never seeing him again. The less you let him get attached, the easier it’ll be for him to forget you and move on.
-
Childe is… a little annoyed. You didn’t reply to any of his texts for a few days, leaving it on read since he sends some random videos after the texts. He let it slide at first, but now he’s bothered. It’s evident in the way he isn’t smiling or even talking to you for that matter. 
Not wanting to end up on his bad side permanently, you capitulate your ego. “Childe? Is something wrong?” You’re restocking the potato chips as you speak, head peeking over the short aisle to look at him while he sits at the register. “You seem off.”
He makes eye contact with a face devoid of any emotion as if that were the most natural thing to do in the situation. “Why do you ask?”
“I just said so. You seem off.”
“It’s nothing.” Childe looks away, opting to stare at his shoes. He’s wearing casual clothes today as well, something you noted he started doing more often after the date.
Seeing that he won’t budge, you go back to restocking but perk up again when you hear him speak, albeit very softly.
“You’re ignoring me,” he mumbles to himself.
So, you do what comes to mind. Leaving the chip packets on the floor of the empty store, you walk up to him, hands on your hips. “I’m ignoring you?”
He doesn’t look at you, his shoes the most interesting sight in the world. “Yeah.”
“What makes you think that?”
“You don’t talk to me. It’s always me who initiates the conversation.” He looks up, making eye contact. “Is it because I’m in the mafia and you don’t want anything to do with me?”
The subtle accusation makes you defensive immediately, and you stammer. “N-not at all-”
“It is, isn’t it?” The earring hanging from his ear briefly catches your attention when he tilts his head. “That’s why you lied and said that you weren’t looking for a relationship right now.”
“But I’m really not.”
“Relationships aren’t ‘looked for’. They just happen.” Childe leans back in his seat, making you grow more nervous. “And you don’t want one to happen with me just because of where I work.”
Your hands start fidgeting with each other on their own, tongue pushing against your mouth’s hard palate. It takes strength to reply to his imputation. “That’s not true…” Heart beating wildly in your chest, you push the words out. “It’s just… I don’t want a relationship right now.” Think brain, think! “It’s not you, it’s me.” Curse you mass of neurons and amygdala for thinking of this ginger as a serious threat. “So please, don’t think of reasons that aren’t true.”
“But they are true,” he states, like he’s telling you that the moon also exerts gravity on the earth, voice boring and flat. “You just refuse to admit it because you’re scared of me.” Childe’s eyes bore into yours again, seeing through your casual lies and crafted confidence.
“I’m not scared of you.”
“You can’t fool me, [Name]. I’d prefer you to be truthful. Lies just get on my nerves.”
You gulp. There’s no way out of this now. “Sorry…”
“It’s alright. Just keep that in mind for next time.”
“...”
“How can I change your mind?”
“What?” You blink at him, not understanding what he’s asking you. “What do you mean?”
“How can I change your fear of me into attraction? I don’t like knowing that you’re afraid of me.” Childe’s expression turns into a pleading one. Genuine helplessness is written all over his physiognomy which in turn makes you uncomfortable. You feel small under his watchful gaze. It’s as though he’s watching every single movement and breath you take.
“I… don’t know…” Your hands hang by your sides as you stand in front of him, lips pressed into a thin line.
Voice gentle, he tries to persuade you once again. “Please. Tell me how to win your heart.”
“I… I don’t know.” There’s a pitiful helplessness in your voice now, and you don’t know what makes you want to tell him what you are about to. But you do. And you have to watch the realisation appear on his face. “I never wanted your attention.” Admitting that somehow leaves a sour taste in your mouth. “I never wanted anyone’s attention. All I am is a student trying to make ends meet while cussing out the degree I chose for myself.”
Eyes wide, Childe tries negotiating. “I could make your life better.” Hands slam the desk in front of him as he stands, barcode scanner jumping and falling back with a thunk. “I just need one chance. That’s all I need.”
“I’m sorry, Childe, but-”
“No no. I’m not asking. You don’t have to give me one.”
You look into the lifeless blues of his eyes as he continues. “I’ll take that chance whenever I get the opportunity. You don’t have to worry your pretty head over it.”
Somehow his decision to take matters into his own hands unnerves you more than his blatant signs of attraction. It didn’t help that he wordlessly left the store after that.
-
Today is your last shift before you leave for home. Oddly enough, Childe didn’t swing by the store ever since he left the other day, and he isn’t here right now as well. It makes you uneasy. Something’s wrong. You can feel it in your gut.
He hadn’t even contacted you or sent any cat videos or memes, and being the coward that you are, you left things as they were. Hope that you won’t see him again keeps you going and stops you from poking at the obvious issue lest it bites you back.
But… you feel a little guilty. Even now as you stare at the floor on the other side of the cash register, you can’t help but recall how Childe tried his best to keep conversation flowing during dinner despite getting a very rude lack of input from your side. He’s been trying, and you’re the one not giving him the time of day.
Nonetheless, relationships aren’t built on pity. You hope he finds someone else, someone more suited for him. That’s the only wish you have for him even if the moral ramifications are eating you up on the inside.
Still, you can’t stop your mind from wandering to the question of what he meant by taking the chance when the opportunity presents itself. Does he somehow know about your flight? Well, if he did, he wouldn’t have disappeared. Best to end things on a good note rather than a bad one and stay in contact. But what if he doesn’t care anymore?
Though that outcome is the welcomed one, it still stings to think that. Someone losing interest in you isn’t exactly something that makes you feel good. Regardless, it’s welcome in this situation. You were never in favour of his attention being on you and you never will be.
At 7: 08 pm, the bell at the door chimes in goodbye as you step out. The evening rush hour greets you, and you go with the flow of the people rushing home after a long day or work. Well, it’s the weekend tomorrow. At least they have something to look forward to.
The building of your current residence comes into view and relief washes all over you. Just a bit more and you can get into bed. There’s still a few more hours till you leave, and all your luggage is packed. All you need to do is take a nap.
You practically skip to the entrance, the cool air of the lobby’s air conditioning hitting your face. No one is inside and you hurriedly make way to the elevator. 
The nap you took felt like an entire night of rest. With a stretch, you jump out of bed to gather the rest of your things. It’s when you’re locking the door to your room when you realise just how quiet it is. Your apprehension is understandable, if not relatable. You’ve never exited your room after coming back home for the day, so you have no idea what the building is like after a certain hour.
Dragging your suitcase with one hand, hand carry with the other, you haul them both and yourself - the backpack on your shoulders being an honourable mention - inside the elevator. The air is uncharacteristically cool and dry, something elevator music fails to get your mind off of. 
Your phone buzzes in your pocket, but you ignore it in favour of dragging your luggage outside the elevator and into the lobby. Who would be calling this late? Probably your mother. The video call would cut when you step out and the Wifi disconnects, so it doesn’t matter. Key left at the receptionist’s desk, you mentally thank yourself for checking out online in the evening but pray that the key is still here by morning.
Hesitation wins and you end up leaving it next to the pen holder. You were told to drop it off at the desk. It’s not your fault it’s unattended.
The bus stop is a five minute walk away, so with a deep breath, you step out of the lobby and to the outside, allowing the night’s cool breeze to caress your face as your luggage stays grasped in either hand. Your eyes land on the empty road, praying that you don’t get creeped out by the lack of people.
Biting the inside of your cheek, you take a step forward, then another, and another, till you’re a few metres away from the building’s entrance. The breeze is still blowing and the air is cool so you won’t be hot during your wait at the sto-
“[Name]?”
The breeze stops blowing.
“Where are you going at this hour? And… why… is your luggage with you?”
Your breathing is the next to stop, though only momentarily.
Almost on instinct, you let go of everything in your hands and reach for the phone in your pocket. You don’t even bother looking at the source of the voice, eyes glued to ‘Childe’ glowing on your screen as the contact of the missed call. Heart hammering in your chest, you slowly turn to look at him.
Regret and fear seep into your bones at the same time. He’s wearing something similar to what he usually did in the beginning, garnet dress shirt and dark grey dress pants. The gloves on his hands cover his palms but leave the majority of the back of his hands exposed, phone held in the leather grip.
What your eyes focus on first, however, is the earring. It catches the light from the lobby behind him like a beacon, but you’re quick to look away and into the blue irises of his empty gaze.
There’s no time for you to question why you didn’t hear him before he spoke up.
“Are you leaving?” He takes a step forward, phone slipping inside his pocket, and you take a step back. The reaction is all he needs from you to raise his hands in surrender, only coming closer when the wary look on your face softens into something more observant.
“Are you going back home?” Childe stands only one step away when he asks that and tilts his head waiting for an answer. He receives one in the form of a nod, and questions further. “When’s your flight?”
“Half past 3 am,” is your reply.
“So you have a little less than four hours,” he points out. “I actually came here to talk to you. I uh… I missed you and couldn’t help it. If I knew you were leaving, I would have come sooner.”
You’re still watching him attentively, the clothing he’s wearing sufficient to ring alarm bells in your head. “So you wanted to talk?”
“Yes.”
“Well,” you bite your lip, “I guess I’m not running late. The bus will be here in fifteen minutes anyway, so I have time to spare.”
“Perfect!” He grabs both of your luggages and drags them in the opposite direction of your intended destination: the bus stop. It takes a stern question from you for him to stop and look at you with that empty gaze again. “I’m just taking you to my car. I’ll drop you off. There’s no need to bother yourself with the bus.”
Any demurrance from your side is promptly shut down and smoothed over with reassurances that he’d get you to the airport safe and sound. As your packed belongings sit next to the car, Childe eases the backpack off your shoulder and leaves it on top of them.
It’s when he looks at you that the anxiety skyrockets, eating away your consciousness. Alone with Childe, a highly ranked member of the mafia, at near midnight with all your belongings and an assurance to be dropped off the airport safe and sound is an obvious problem.
You should have listened to the uneasy feeling in your gut back in the store.
“So,” he drawls, standing a foot away from you with his hands in his pockets, “I know I was brash and that I shouldn’t have made you uncomfortable and also should have apologised to you later, but I won’t.”
That causes you to perk up, anxiety dying down a little. “You… won’t?”
“Yeah,” he shrugs, “I won’t. It’s because I’m not going back on my words. I know you don’t view me as a potential partner, let alone friend, but that isn’t going to stop me.”
You don’t like where this is going.
Childe continues, eyes still boring into yours. “I don’t understand why you’re afraid of me. I’ve told and showed you countless times that I’m not going to do anything. It’s pointless to waste your energy. All I want is to exclusively be yours and call you mine. Why would I ever do anything to you if that’s what I wish for?”
The sir suddenly feels too suffocating, like not enough oxygen is filling your lungs. There’s a subtle darkness in your vision, one you deal with by walking to and leaning on the parked car, not that it helps. Not with the deeper breaths you’ve started taking. It doesn’t take any more indications for Childe to rush to your side, an unwelcome hand gently stroking your back.
The breeze flows again, caressing your face and blowing through your hair, but you’re still sweating.
You don’t know what happens next, just that you’re inside the car, the AC turned on, a light shining over your head, and a hand still running up and down your back while you take mouthfuls of breaths. They’re quicker now, you note, and a hand - your own hand - rises to cover your mouth as your sight and self-awareness is restored.
The confusion and vulnerability hits you like a truck and the tears simply fall harder.
Each and every time the hand moves over your back, you feel like more of your skin was peeled off, goosebumps still littering over your arms. It takes several minutes for you to somewhat calm down and become cognizant of your emotions and actions. It doesn’t come as a surprise when the first thing you decide to do in that state is cry harder.
What are you crying for? You don’t know. It’s hard enough as it is to just continue breathing. Processing your emotions is for later.
A hand, a foreign one, gently lifts your face, allowing the dashboard to come into view, and turns it to the source. Childe’s blurry image greets you as your chest heaves, warm thumbs swiping away the tears rapidly running down your cheeks. You don’t have time to dwell on where his gloves disappeared to, focusing on the feeling of his warm thumbs feeling cool over your tear stricken face.
Several minutes pass again, and you sit with your face in your hands while Childe puts your luggage inside the car trunk. Reddened, swollen eyes meet his blue ones in the silence of the car, your sniffling being the only sound. Whatever you just experienced was horrible. Had Childe not been… no. He is part of the cause. Him helping you through it is the least he could have done.
The driver’s seat is quickly occupied once again, and Childe breaks the silence, concern present all over his face. “Are you feeling better?”
You nod, too uncertain in your ability to speak. His question of whether or not you want some water is met with a shake of your head, and Childe settles with pressing his lips into a thin line.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t think it would upset you that much.”
Voice slightly raspy, you reply after clearing your throat. “It’s alright. I… I didn’t see it coming as well.”
He slumps into his seat, head turned to look at you. Childe’s eyes glaze over your body, looking for potential signs of fear. It seems to him that you’re dazed, confused. It’s advantageous for him, if not relieving. Seeing you afraid or in pain doesn’t elicit any positive feelings.
After receiving your permission, Childe puts on his seatbelt - all the while making sure you fasten yours as well - and reverses the car, intending to drive you to the airport. You’re a bit late compared to what you originally planned, but you suppose he can get you there on time.
The car is eerily quiet with the lack of music. There’s no gentle humming from Childe, only the sound of either of you breathing. Unfortunately for you, the silence fails to last.
“So when are you coming back?” Childe’s voice is calm, flat. He’s completely casual in his question despite your concern that he wouldn’t take kindly to being lied to about such a thing.
“It’s one way,” you lie. Not being held accountable for your verbal deceit helps you gain some confidence. “I’m not sure when I’ll be back, but I’ll be back for class obviously.”
The car is silent again for a while and it fills you with hope for a quiet ride, one where you would get off, thank Childe profusely, and head home never to see him again. Alas hope is crushed, and you freeze in your seat, muscles tensing when Childe speaks again.
“How much more are you going to lie?”
Childe continues driving, acting unaffected with his demeanour and tone, but it wouldn’t take a genius to know that him gripping the steering wheel in a bone crushing grip is anything but him being casual. 
No. He’s certainly upset, and you’re afraid you’re too much at his mercy.
“I gave you another chance and you ruined it.” Childe’s fingers tap rhythmically on the steering wheel, voice even as he speaks. “Why don’t we try again? When’re you coming back?”
You bite your tongue when you feel the initial signs of panic bubbling up your throat. It takes a bit of force to make yourself speak, even if it’s in a more fearful way. “Seven weeks. I’ll be home for seven weeks.”
“You’re not going to block me on your socials when you get there, are you?”
With a shake of your head, you continue looking out the window. “No.” 
He hums, satisfied at your cooperation. “Good.” The car takes a turn, the empty roads seemingly omnipresent. “I’m not going to do anything. I just wanted to know the truth… er, more like hear it directly from you.”
A few minutes of silence pass, but it doesn’t last because you can’t stay quiet for longer. “You’re going the wrong way.”
“I am?” The smile in his voice is evident.
“Yes, you are.” You turn to look at him, nervously gulping at his grin. “Stop messing around.”
He doesn’t reply.
“Childe!”
Your panic fails to affect him in any way. With the fuzziness growing in your mind, there’s not much you can do except grab onto his sleeve. That causes him to look at you, even if just for a moment, but that’s all you get for a reaction. As a last resort, you reach for your phone in your pocket but freeze when you don’t feel the device.
You don’t need to say anything for Childe to provide the answer to your question. “Your phone isn’t there. It’s with me, I’m afraid.”
“Childe,” you say, voice low and pleading, “please stop screwing around.”
He sounds slightly offended when he replies. “You think I’m screwing around?”
“Yes!” Your exclamation doesn’t seem to affect him, so you opt for a more direct approach. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this. I came with you because I trusted you.” The words are spat out, but Childe only seems amused.
“Trusted me?” He chuckles. “Sweetheart, if you trusted me, you would’ve told me about your flight from the start instead of lying about putting in a one week notice. You’re scared of me, and despite the fact that it stings like salt on an open wound, I suppose there’s some merit to that as well.”
“W-what do you mean?”
“What do you think I mean?”
You bite the inside of your cheek now. There’s no way you can tell what Childe means by what he said. Judging from your previous conversations as well, your fear of him is a sour spot, but maybe you could exploit that to your favour.
“I’m afraid of you, because of your unpredictability and that is exactly what you are demonstrating right now.” You grab onto his sleeve again, albeit more desperately this time. “You gave me more reasons to fear you than you did to like you.”
The car slows, as if synchronised with Childe’s thought process. “Is that… really what you think of me?”
“Yes,” you reply in an even voice. “I was already a little scared from what I heard from people and then you started doing all this stuff-”
“Stuff like what?”
“Stuff like this!”
He sighs, moving the steering wheel to stop the car at the side of the road. “I just told you that I can’t ever hurt you, and you’re still calling me scary?”
Your eyes focus on his expression, specially searching for any signs of him lying - hypocritical on your part - but fail to find anything other than sincerity. The grip on his sleeve loosens, your hand ultimately returning to your lap, when he turns to face you. It’s intimidating to look into his dead eyes but it still makes you wonder how such a beautiful colour can be so lifeless.
Childe’s lips move and despite your feelings you find yourself absolutely memorised by the plush pink as his voice leaves his mouth.
“I’m not changing my mind.”
His declaration forces you to focus on his words, any attraction be damned.
“Lying to me and saying that you haven’t decided on leaving for home did get on my nerves a little,” he says, “but I forgive you. You’re cute, so I can’t stay mad at you for long.”
You let his words sink in. He says that he forgives you for the lie, but what now?
“Alright,” you drawl, voice nervous, “now can we please go to the airport?”
Childe leans in, a smile on his face. “How about instead of the airport, we go home?”
The word ‘home’ catches your attention and dread settles in. If he’s implying what you think he is, then you don’t think you’ll be able to catch your flight, let alone get to the airport.
“Childe,” you croon, “I think we have some misunderstandings. Before either of us does something impulsive and hurtful, let’s just talk it over.”
He just looks amused. “Oh? Talk over what? You’re the one pushing me away.”
You try again to de-escalate. “I only told you that I don’t want a relationship.”
“Liar.” Childe’s hand reaches for the edge of your seat, the skin below his collarbones and a little bit of his chest visible as he leans in closer. “We’ve already had this discussion before. Since you’re cute and obviously not in very good mental shape at the moment, I’ll give you a little bit of advice. Let me do my thing. I’m not going to hurt you, just… change your scenery a little.”
You narrow your eyes at him upon saying the word ‘scenery’. Though consternation eats you up on the inside, you trust that Childe wouldn’t do anything to you, at least not physically. What he is currently planning to do is a different matter.
Patience, you remind yourself. That might just be the only thing you have left.
“Now that that’s settled,” he says, going back to the steering wheel, “why don’t I take you home? I’m sure you’ll like it. It’s more comfortable and spacious than where you were living.”
In the most calm and even voice you could muster, you try pleading with him again. “Childe, please. Don’t do something that would make me hate you.”
He doesn’t even look at you when he answers. The lack of smile and his eyes fixed on the road as he continues driving does not help ease your increasing dread. “It might be a small bump, but the end destination is what matters in this case, not the journey.”
You glance to the door handle in an act of desperation but bite your lip when all hope is lost at the sight of the lock. Month old words hit you like a truck, patience being some elaborate scheme for the notorious members of society to make others more docile and submissive to them. After all this time, would it be wise to believe you’ll be alright?
2K notes · View notes
casiia · 1 year
Note
OMG OMG OKAY HEAR ME OUT. ghostface ethan edging reader after reader receives a phone call from him…!!?!?!?!!!
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[ 𝐨𝐧 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞 ੈ✩‧₊˚ ]
pairing .: ethan landry x reader
genre .: suggestive content
word count .: 2k
warnings .: smut-ish (minors dni.), contains scream XI spoilers! scream plotline, threatening, mentions of a knife, soooo unedited, kissing, lingering touches, dry humping
author's note .: maybe planning on making another part to this <3 i have no idea if this is what was actually requested, but i had a lot of fun writing this! took a massive break from writing and i think i’m back, this is probably very ooc and might make no sense but i have zero experience writing thriller things like this idk. dialogue was used from the 1995 (or 7) scream movie. accepting constructive criticism, reblogs are appreciated. 
© casiia 2023 DO NOT REPOST OR PLAGIARIZE MY WORK
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“hey, pretty girl.”
pulling the phone away from your ear confused, you checked your screen to see who was on the other line, frowning slightly when you saw no contact.
“who is this?” setting the home phone back on it’s stand, you let the call ring out on speaker, turning your attention back to the stove.
“there’s no fun in telling you who i am just yet, why don’t you answer a few of my questions first.”
rolling your eyes, you shook the pot once more before turning to lean against the counter, the buttery smell of popcorn filling your nose. “why should i do that?” speaking over the loud crackles and pops coming from the fire, you moved around the island to grab a bowl.
“it’ll be fun. so tell me, what’s your favorite scary movie?”
“hm, i don’t know.” pouring the yellow kernels into the large bowl, you popped a few pieces into your mouth with a satisfied hum. grabbing the phone and turning it off speaker, you pressed it between your ear and shoulder, balancing the device steadily. “maybe, halloween? think that’s the one where that guy stalks the babysitters.”
“you think it was scary?”
“i guess, anyways. tell me who you are now.” ungraciously falling onto the couch, you picked at the pieces of popcorn that had fallen into your lap, licking your lips with a smile as a salty taste covered your tastebuds.
“can’t do that princess, haven’t finished asking my questions.”
“then hurry up and ask them already.” annoyance showing on your face, you reached across the many throw pillows and grabbed the remote —  clicking through the channels with disinterest, before going to browse your downloaded pick of scary movies.
“you got a boyfriend?”
eyebrows raising in shock, you stilled with a quiet laugh. “why, wanna ask me out on a date or what.” you teased the person on the other line, shifting in your seat as you began to ponder who you were really talking to.
“we’ll see, do you have a boyfriend?”
“no.” placing the overflowing bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, you stood to make way to your room, keeping the chunky phone against your ear.
“that’s a shame, such a pretty one you are.”
biting back a smile, you switched the light to your room on; bending down to open your drawer of pajamas, you tossed an oversized shirt onto your neatly made bed. “you gonna be this charming to me when i find out who you are?”
“maybe.”
“got anymore questions for me, or can i start guessing who this is.” unbuttoning your jeans, you kicked the pair of uncomfortable pants off . turning the speaker back on, you tossed the phone onto your pillow, pulling your tank top up and over your head before slipping on the big shirt.
“go ahead, you’re giving me such a good show.”
“what are you talking about?” picking up the dirty clothes that you had left stranded on your floor, you walked into your connecting bathroom, putting the clothes in your dirty hamper.
“hm, that’s a nice shirt you’re wearing. where did you get it?”
eyes widening in surprise, you slowly turned back into your bedroom, your knuckles white as you gripped onto the phone. “can you see me?”
“ah what a good girl! putting her brain to some use.”
“if you can really see me, how many fingers am i holding up?” walking up to your window, you peered outside trying to get a good look. sticking out your middle finger, you squinted as you stared into your dark backyard, trying to piece together unfamiliar shadows. 
“funny, one.”
“shit.” shutting your blinds in hurry, you stumbled out of your room, quickly heading back downstairs. “who is this, jason?”
“from econ? no.” 
“you better leave me alone, my boyfriend is coming over soon.” closing the blinds to your backdoor, you shuffled into your kitchen, grabbing a large knife. “he’s strong, s-so get out of here!” 
“i thought you said you didn’t have a boyfriend?” 
“w-well i lied!” locking your front door, you turned down all the lights, curling into a corner, knife in hand. your breath was ragged, eyes darting from place to place in worry. “tell me who you are before i call the police.”
“quit being such a brat, the fun isn’t over just yet.”
chewing on your lip, tears lined your waterline as fear overtook you. anxiety creeping up your throat with every shallow breath you took. “this isn’t funny.” you flinched at the loud noise emitting from the buzzing device, a staticy and robotic laugh filling the eerily quiet apartment. 
“you look so cute with that knife. what’re you gonna do, stab me?”
“show yourself, you coward!” standing from the hardwood floor, you paced around the kitchen, blinking away any tears that threatened to spill down your pink cheeks. frustration and anger burning in your chest, when the anonymous caller laughed again.
“careful what you wish for.”
a loud ringing echoes from the phone as the call ends, the wind whistling against the windows has you whipping your head to each sudden noise. pressing yourself up against the wall, the knife that you held a safe distance away from you.
“where are you, motherfucker.” your voice just barely above a whisper, you jumped at the sound of your doorknob rattling – a fist loudly knocking against the wood of your door. “go away! i’ll kill you.”
“baby? hey, what’s going on it’s just me.”
“ethan?” letting the knife drop to the marble of your kitchen countertop, you winced at the loud clang. running to your front door, you stood on the tip of your toes, peering through the peak hole to see your boyfriend awkwardly standing in front of you. twisting the lock, you threw the door open before jumping into his arms.
“what’s wrong? did you forget i was coming or something?” pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, he circles his arms around your waist with a hesitant laugh. 
“no- no. this guy just prank called me, i was so scared.” pressing your face into his shoulder, you gripped onto his coat, muffled sobs racking from your chest. “he saw me, ethan.” 
“no, pretty, don't cry. i’m sure it was just some sick joke.” gently pulling you away from his tearstained coat, he cradled your face in the palm of his hand; wiping your wet cheeks, he pressed a light kiss in between your brows. “relax, no one’s gonna hurt you as long as i’m here.” 
“can you stay the night?” leaning into his touch, you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer to you. “don’t think i can sleep without you.” twirling his thick brown hair between your fingers, you sighed heavily, relaxing in his embrace. 
“of course, i was planning on it anyway.” adjusting the bag on his shoulder, he squeezed your hip once nudging you inside your apartment. “don’t want these creeps lookin at you, especially without pants.”
shaking your head with a smile, you wiped your remaining tears with the back of your hand, sniffling quietly and shuffling back inside. “lock it, please.” grabbing his bag, you tossed it onto the sofa, the sound of a lock clicking easing your shoulders.
“you were really scared, huh.” ethan laughs at the abandon knife on the counter, picking it up and putting it back with the other collection of cooking knives. 
“i was, that was the creepiest interaction i’ve ever had.” dragging your hands down your face with a huff, you walked over to your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around his torso and pressing your face into his back. “y’should jus’ move in with me.” your words muffled, you felt his chest rise and fall with another laugh.
“i was the one that made that request, i’d rather live with you than chad.” he loosened your arms around him, dragging you around his body so you were caged between him and the counter. “i am really sorry you had to go through that, did you call the police?” 
“no, i think there are worse things to worry about. it was just some silly call.” rubbing your arms nervously, you took a deep breath, reassuring yourself of any crazy thoughts. “i don’t want to talk about it anymore, how was your day?” pulling yourself up on the countertop, you shuddered lightly when your bare skin met with the cool marble. 
“uninteresting, just caught up in some classes, i missed you a lot.” moving in between your legs, he dragged his fingers against your thigh, teasing the hem of your shirt higher up your leg. “is this mine? i’ve been looking for it.” inching his hand up your shirt, he squeezed your hip, his thumb trailing along the lace of your panties. 
“mhm, it’s comfortable. didn’t think you’d miss it much.” sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you placed your hands on his chest, drawing little circles into his shirt. looking up at him through your lashes, you licked your lips, your fingers settling at the base of his neck. “ethan…”
“what is it, baby.” bringing his other hand up to your cheek, he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “want me to stop?” moving to retract his hand that found it’s way under your shirt, he looked down at you with worried eyes, scared that he had read the room wrong. 
“no! no. i want you, ethan.” grabbing his wrist, you bring his large hands back to your body, leaning forward to press a sweet kiss to his collarbone. “do you— do you want me?” guiding his hands under your shirt, you whined softly, his cold fingers grazing your stomach. 
“oh fuck.” mumbling under his breath, he pressed his lips to your forehead, glancing down at your exposed panties; pretty and pink, decorated with a white lace, a small bow stitched right in the center. 
“gonna answer my question?” trailing along the seam of his belt, you played with the hem of his shirt, your lips lingering on his skin with every word you mumbled. 
“i do, baby. let me make you feel good.” rubbing up and down your sides with a light chuckle, he gently patted your waist. “you deserve it, such a good girl.” 
tugging at the collar of his thick coat, you pressed your soft lips to his with a happy hum, your fingers entangling in his curly brunette hair. swiping your tongue against his bottom lip, you brought your hand up to cup his jaw, pulling him impossibly closer to you. 
ethan grinned against your lips, snaking his arm around your waist to grind his clothed crotch against your damp panties. “s’wet for me, haven’t even done anything to you yet.”
gasping into his mouth at the roll of his hips, you squeezed your thighs around his waist yearning for more. “please, ethan.” your words blurred together as you continued to kiss him – you tugged lightly on his hair with a mewl, the bulge showing in his jeans nudging your clit.
“so needy, can’t wait–”
a deafening ring cuts him off, his phone softly buzzing in the pocket of his jacket. letting your hands fall from his hair and atop of his shoulders, you shook your head with concern. “ethan, no.”
“relax, i bet it’s just chad.” giving your thigh a reassuring squeeze, he reaches into his pocket, pulling out the red phone. tilting his screen, he showed you the number on the screen, one that he had not previously saved. “recognize it?”
“no, i wasn’t shown a number.” anxiously playing with your fingers, you kept your eyes glued to the vibrating phone. “put it on speaker.”
nodding at your request, you watched him accept the call, letting it play out loud. “who is this?” 
“hello, ethan. what’s your favorite scary movie?”
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🏷 .: @loaksbitch @sullybby @vmptears my stinky ethan landry apologist
3K notes · View notes
jwonsite · 5 months
Note
Just imagine Jungwon edging you for hours out of jealousy because one of his members were flirting with you. Like he’d ram you up for hours, not allowing you to cum until you’re begging him, sobbing your eyes out (which I’m doing rn I’m reading too much smut😭)
this was way longer than i intended for it to be LMAOOO but yeah also sorry this took so long PLS i've been so busy
jungwon x fem!reader
smut! mdni!
oh my gosh he would be so😭😭 we all know that won is such a jealous boy like, he can’t even stand when we look at other idols or have pictures of them in our phones, so i just KNOW if one of the members was flirting w you he would not be able to control himself.
like you were just hanging out with him at the dorms, the boys were all playing video games together or something when jake asked if you want to play for a round. you declined, much rather preferring to stay cuddled up onto your boyfriend, watching as he scrolled on his phone. jake insisted, heeseung joining in, saying how he wants to play with you so he could beat you. you didn’t really know how to play the game, asking jake which buttons did what. jake moved closer to you, pointing to the buttons on the controller as you sat shoulder to shoulder, even taking it as far as putting his hand over yours to help you when the game started. you could feel won’s gaze on you; well not really on you more so on his bandmate that was currently holding your hands on the controller, his face so close to yours that they were almost touching, and that’s when jungwon snapped. he got up from the chair on the side of the room walking over to you and jake, your heads both snapping up to look at him when you hear his loud sigh as he got up.
“alright that’s enough,” he would say, looking at you both with a stern look, “y/n let’s go,” he says as he grabs your arm, pulling you up from the couch, your hand dropping the controller onto the couch as your boyfriend pulled you away and into his room. you could feel the stares of all the boys on you both as you walked away, the room completely silent other than the sound of the video game still running on the tv screen. jungwon pulled you into his room, closing the door and pushing you up against it before smashing his lips onto yours, kissing you messily as his hands groped your ass. your eyes widened at the sudden kiss, but you soon wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss as you rolled your crotch into his, trying to feel some friction where you needed it most. his hands moved to your waist, grabbing you to stop your movements.
“you think you get to pull a little stunt like that and still get to be all needy for me? thats not the way it works baby, you’re gonna take whatever i give you, okay?” he said while kissing down your neck. you whined, half in protest and half in pleasure but you knew he was going to do whatever he wanted no matter what you said. he moved you both to his bed, kissing down your body before pulling your pants and underwear off in one swift movement. you moaned as he kissed your thighs, wanting him to move to your pussy.
“shh baby, we wouldn’t want any of the boys to hear your pretty moans would we? then again you might like that, knowing they’re hearing how good i’m making you feel in here, knowing that they’re wishing it was them in here between your legs instead of me,” he says before kitty licking your cunt. you put a hand over your mouth trying to muffle your moans, eyes rolling to the back of your head in pleasure. he began sucking and licking your clit suddenly, sticking his tongue inside of you every now and then. the sounds that were coming from his mouth on your pussy were so lewd, the squelching and sucking sounds resonating in his bedroom. your hand moved to tangle in his hair, tugging on it slightly as he continued his ministrations in between your legs.
“fuck wonnie im so close,” you moaned out, pulling on his hair harshly causing him to moan into your pussy, sending you closer to the edge, that was until he abruptly pulled away from you causing you to whine in frustration
“won please, i want to cum,” you cried out as he edged you for the 6th time that night, tears streaming down your face
“aww my pretty girl wants to cum? do you deserve it after letting jake flirt with you? letting him put his hands all over you?”
“yes please wonnie, please,” you cried out again, pushing his head back down to your dripping cunt
he began eating you out again, his grip on your thighs sure to leave a mark. you were finally close again, feeling the knot in your stomach threatening to come undone.
“you were such a good girl for me today baby, come on cum all over my tongue, cum for me baby,” he says sticking two fingers inside of you, pushing you over the edge. you rode out your long awaited orgasm, and then watched as your boyfriend licked up all your juices from your pussy and his fingers, coming up to kiss you after. you could taste yourself on his tongue, and it drove you insane. he laid down next to you, and you moved to lay on his chest, his arm wrapping around your figure
“you know i wasn’t flirting with him, right won,” you said with a slight pout, looking up at him with doe eyes
“i know my love, just couldn’t stand to see him all over you like that. you’re mine,” he said, bringing a hand up to caress your face before capturing your lips in a kiss
“all yours baby” you said, smiling into the kiss before laying back down onto his chest and letting sleep take over you
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onismdaydream · 3 months
Note
no no i see the vision - nanami teaching yuji patience… discipline. yuuji who’s so eager and excited and nanami just reigns him in, its unspoken but nanami is in charge and when his voice cuts through the moans and whimpers as yuuji gets carried away…..
anon i am kissing u omg thank u...
this is so messy but my brain just kept going ! so um ramble under the cut :3
yeah exactly like. the first time yuji meets you, he absolutely falls in love. doesn't even realize it, he just becomes obsessed with you. you just look so cute and perfect.. soft little dog ears and that cute little tail that always wags so fast... you're so affectionate too, licking and kissing yuji as soon as nanami introduces him to you. because of course, if your owner trusts yuji, then he must be a good person.
i think nanami knows he has to go away for a longer mission, knows that he can't leave you alone for that long, so he asks yuji to do him a favor, to take care of his puppy. not only is yuji eager to please his mentor (i thought i told you not to call me that.), but hes always been curious to spend more time with you, so he easily agrees and finds himself packing his stuff to stay with you. (nanami is not letting his sweet puppy stay with yuji in his own apartment - he's seen how yuji lives)
and because you're so precious to nanami, he takes the time to show yuji how exactly to take care of you - what you are going to expect from the pink haired sorcerer. when you eat and what you like to eat, how to help you bathe and get dressed and how you like your hair brushed, anything to make sure your schedule doesn't get messed up. your owner might spoil you a bit, but can you blame him? (i think nanami just wants to take care of someone, so he does spoil and baby you a bit, but you don't complain one bit)
yuji listens intently to everything nanami says, wanting to earn your trust and prove himself to his mentor even more. he blushes when nanami mentions bathing, though the older man says that you should be able to do it on your own, sometimes you still ask for help - something your owner could never refuse.
the puppy-sitting for lack of a better word, goes relatively smoothly. yuji gives nanami updates for when he can check his phone and on the night before your owner comes home, you video call him. nanami's face instantly relaxes as you come on screen, grinning from ear to ear. you tell him how much you love yuji (not as much as you love nanami of course), hugging his arm and pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek, and you ask if yuji can visit more.
and nanami, never able to say no when you look at him with those big eyes and pouty lips, allows yuji to spend more time with you. it works out because nanami sometimes doesn't have the energy after long work days to give you the attention you deserve and ask for. so yuji steps in. yuji has a bit more free time and a lot more energy to play with you and take you out around the city.
but then, your heat hits you when nanami is at work. he asked yuji to check on you and tell you that he'll be home an hour or so late. yuji finds you in nanami's room, hips frantically humping his pillow as you whine and cry. he immediately calls nanami and tells him what he saw (apologizing because he feels guilty, especially because he might've stared longer than he should've..), but instead of getting berated like yuji believed he would, nanami asks him if he could comfort you in some way. just until nanami could get home and properly take care of you.
thats how you ended up grinding your drippy cunt on yuji's thigh, his cock straining against his shorts as he tries desperately to not lose control. nanami said he could do anything that you asked him to (within reason) but yuji still felt guilty, felt like he was taking advantage of you. you whine and pant, drool falling from your mouth as you get off for the nth time, though it's still not enough. you're about to try begging yuji to fuck you again when nanami comes home, your ears instantly perking up as you hear the lock jingle, though you don't run towards him like yuji expected. no, you keep grinding your hot core on him.
and nanami doesn't stop you either. he asks you how you feel, big hands gentle on your overheated face as you cry out for more, tears springing in your eyes. yuji feels entirely out of place, feels like he's intruding, but you bury your face in his neck and plead for him to help you. "p-please, need to be fucked, yuji, please."
you sound so pretty, how could either of them deny you? so nanami instructs yuji on exactly what you like, his fist around his thick cock as he watches the pink haired sorcerer slide himself into you, his eyes fluttering shut at the warmth surrounding his length. yuji wants to move fast, needs to move fast with the way you're squeezing him, but nanami's stern voice makes him savor it. telling him to go slower, to make sure that you really feel everything yuji's giving you. and yuji always listens to nanami (well, as much as he can..), so he does. he slows his hips, full and lazy thrusts that make each inch feel even longer, each drag against your spongy spot even more intense. nanami tells yuji to spit on his hand and rub your clit, so yuji spits and rubs, keen eyes watching your expressions to find the right movement.
the way your pussy tightens around him when you cum makes him grit his teeth, a hiss slipping through as he tries to not bust his load. but god, you feel so good. you look so pretty, too. it feels like an eternity before your walls relax, letting him slip out. he's done this before, always pulls out and strokes his cock to finish, it's what's expected of him. but nanami's voice stops him once again.
"did i tell you to stop?"
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lxndonorris · 3 months
Text
streamer max - Max Verstappen
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Y/N x Max Verstappen Theme: Smutish, Teasing Max is live when you decide to have a little fun in the chat x word count: 1420+ taglist: @game-set-canet gif by me open for requests :)
The dim glow of your phone screen illuminates your determined expression as you create the mysterious alter ego, "goldenbooty1." It is an alias embedded with memories and an inside joke that only your boyfriend, the avid racer and streamer Max Verstappen, would comprehend.
You called him that the first time you saw him in his dark blue racing suit, accentuating his form perfectly. Since he is wearing his golden boots a lot, you combine the two and choose a similar image as your icon.
As you watch his racing stream unfold, headphones plugged in, your fingers dance across the touch screen, ready to inject a playful touch into the chat. The adrenaline rush of orchestrating this secret banter heightens your excitement. Max is in the midst of a high-speed race, navigating through virtual landscapes with finesse.
Then, he loses his rear for just a second, catching himself right after. Yet, you can't help yourself. Rubbing your back against the sofa cushions behind you, you bite your lower lip.
"Got your rear under control, huh?" You type, the message blending seamlessly with the scrolling comments. The chat erupts with laughter, and you can't help but smirk, knowing you have inserted yourself into the stream under the radar.
Max glances at the comment, his eyebrows furrowing in amusement. The connection between the words and your username must have given it away, but you cannot tell. He might have seen another comment.
But then Max licks his lips. Undeterred, he responds, "I'm always in control, goldenbooty." His rough voice echoes through your headphones, sending shivers down your spine.
His virtual car speeds on, leaving a trail of digital dust behind. A few people reply to you, most of them trying to get in on the joke, but it means much more to Max coming from you.
You continue to sprinkle comments, each one a carefully crafted blend of teasing and familiarity. The banter unfolds like a well-rehearsed dance, your connection growing stronger with every exchange.
"You're a naughty one, aren't you, booty?" He looks right into the camera, slightly biting his lower lip as he tries to hide the smirk spreading across his lips.
The chat erupts with emotes and laughter, mirroring the amusement you could almost picture on his face. Even though Max tries to stay cool and not show too many emotions, the light in his eyes makes it easy for you to tell he's enjoying it all.
You know, however, that he's just waiting for the race to end. Just by the way he's looking at the screen, the sly smirk, and the narrow eyes, he's contemplating how to get back at you.
"Don't tell me you don't like it rough, Max." You type quickly, followed by, "I mean racing, of course." The smirk on your face widens, and you hold back your laughter.
Max's eyes sparkle slightly before he tilts his head, unable to stop himself from smiling brightly.
"Of course, racing." He lifts his eyebrows, emphasizing 'racing', with his voice a little deeper than usual.
Your chest tingles as you get goosebumps, and all the other viewers in the chat add an element of thrill to your playful interaction.
Max crosses the finish line shortly after, finishing first. As he leans back against his chair, he strokes his chest gently, the sly smirk still present.
"That was fun." He says, looking right at you through the screen, licking his lips quickly.
As you watch him reply to a few other people in chat, you try to come up with another sassy line, but then, "Okay guys, give me a moment. Alright?" Max nods and turns the camera off.
Adrenaline rushes through your entire body. Your heart pounds heavily, anticipating him to confront you.
Before you can hide any evidence, you turn your head toward the door and find Max casually leaning against the doorframe. He watches you with an amused glint in his eyes.
You attempt to maintain an air of innocence, but he could read you like an open book. "Already done streaming?" You ask him, showing off your best poker face, but it isn't really effective.
"I'm just taking a short break." Max tilts his head, his voice carrying a mixture of playfulness and curiosity.
Nodding, you lock your phone and pull your headphones out, putting them away. He then approaches you confidently, wearing a tight Redbull shirt and shorts that accentuate his athletic build. You can't help but be captivated by how good he looks.
He runs a hand through his messy hair and across his chest again before he stands right next to you, tilting his head. "So, goldenbooty1, any idea who that might be?" Max asks, obviously knowing the answer already.
You feign ignorance, avoiding his gaze, but the mischief in his eyes hints at his determination to uncover the truth.
Denying any involvement, you insist, "No clue; a nice username though." However, your attempt at evasion only fuels his certainty.
With a knowing smirk, he closes the distance between the two of you. Suddenly, he starts to tickle you, knowing all your most sensitive spots.
His fingers lightly trace along your sides, sending shivers down your spine.
"Come on, spill the beans; I can tell when you're hiding something," he teases, his touch becoming more insistent. You try to suppress a laugh, but his expert tickling technique proves too effective. To make matters worse, Max climbs on to the sofa, pinning you down.
Laughter bubbles up as you squirm, trying to evade his fingers dancing all over your body.
"Okay, okay, it's me! I couldn't resist teasing you a bit," you admit between giggles. His triumphant grin signals that he has achieved his goal.
With his face hovering over yours, you try to catch your breath when he leans in, kissing you lovingly.
"Mhmm." You breathe into him, embracing his mouth on yours in an instant.
"I really love that username," Max purrs into you as his body grinds on yours.
Tilting your head to breathe, you expose your neck, inviting him to place kisses all over it.
"I hoped you'd know it's me." You hold back a low moan when his warm breath and soft lips touch your skin again and again.
Lifting your arms, you grab his waist before tracing his waistline right to his butt. His shorts are barely able to contain him, so you touch him, holding him close.
"Fuck!" Max chuckles, seemingly enjoying your firm touch. Then, he grinds his crotch against your thighs, letting you feel the desire building up inside his body throughout the last thirty minutes.
"You make me so hard," he growls deeply, breathing down your neck.
"Max," you hug him, stroking the small of his back before your hands slide underneath his shirt.
His body is tensing more and more, and you keep stroking him lovingly. Running your hands across his body, you reach his chest, and his muscles react to the slightest touch of your fingertips.
"So, naughty." He leans his head back, making it easier for you to touch his chest.
Both of you are out of breath, getting more and more into it.
At last, you run a hand down his chest, right to the bulge forming inside his shorts. 
As you touch him, he bites his lower lip, looking at you with a fiery spark inside his beautiful eyes.
"Will you keep watching the stream?" He grunts, bending down once more to kiss you again.
"If you want me too?" You smile, touching him again, enjoying the effect you have on him.
"Hope you enjoy the show." Max smirks before he gets off the sofa, fixing his clothes with a casual yet deliberate motion. You seize the opportunity to have another good look at him: he runs his hands across his chest, shorts, and through his hair, letting out a low guttural moan.
Hearing his voice sends shivers down your back, causing you to giggle quietly.
He then winks, turning around and returning to his room. The way he carries himself exudes confidence, and you can't help but appreciate the subtle ca´harm in the way he moves. His athletic build and tense muscles are accentuated by the snug fit of his shirt and shorts, leaving an indelible impression.
You pick up the phone and plug the headphones back in, just in time for the camera to come back to life. Max licks his lower lip, raising an eyebrow.
"I hope you're ready for another round." He smiles, and you enjoy the rest of the stream.
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sinkovia · 3 months
Text
Coffee Shop: IX
Simon Riley x Fem!Reader
You work at a small cafe that Simon starts visiting when he’s not deployed.
Coffee shop Masterlist
As Simon walked through the door of his house, a heavy wave of agonizing guilt crashed over him, consuming him entirely. His body moved on autopilot while his mind was in turmoil, torn between regret and longing.
All he wanted in that moment was to be with you, to hold you close and make things right. He couldn't bear the thought of hurting you, of seeing the pain he had caused reflected in your eyes.
Sitting on his couch, Riley curled up beside him, Simon ran a hand over his face, the weight of his actions bearing down on him like a crushing weight.
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, a flood of remorse flooding his thoughts. Never had he imagined that he would be capable of hurting you to the point of making your eyes water. He wanted to punch himself for being so foolish, for letting fear cloud his judgment.
But perhaps there was still hope. Maybe if he explained himself, you would understand. You were always so kind and forgiving, and he hoped you would extend that kindness to him too.
He knew he needed to be honest with you, to tell you how he truly felt. His heart felt lighter whenever he was around you, and he couldn't bear the thought of losing you. He needed to explain that he had frozen and pulled away because he was terrified of letting himself be vulnerable again. But he was willing to risk it all if it meant he could spend a lifetime by your side.
If there was one thing he was certain of, it was his unwavering desire to be with you, to cherish and protect you for as long as he lived.
Simon sat on his couch, staring at the picture of you and Riley on his phone, feeling a mix of longing and uncertainty. He wanted to reach out to you, to explain himself and make things right, but he couldn't shake the doubt gnawing at him. Would you even want to hear from him right now? Would it be fair to intrude on your space when he had hurt you so deeply?
He hesitated, his thumb hovering over the screen as he debated whether to send a text or not. He knew that explaining himself over text wouldn't do justice to the depth of his feelings, but he also wanted to let you know that he cared about what had happened between you two.
Finally, he typed out a message, his heart pounding in his chest as he hit send.
Simon: Can we talk about what happened?
He held his breath, checking his phone every few seconds, his nerves getting the better of him as he waited for your reply. Each passing moment felt like an eternity, his mind racing with thoughts of what your response might be.
Meanwhile, on your side of things, you saw the text the instant it arrived, but you couldn't bring yourself to respond. Tossing your phone to the other side of your bed, you buried your face in your hands, the pain of rejection still fresh in your mind.
You were lying on your bed with missy sitting next to you, “Missy, I don't know what to do. I'm so embarrassed…”
She purrs softly, rubbing against your hand.
“I thought Simon and I had a moment, you know? But then when I tried to kiss him, he pulled away… He doesn't feel the same way about me, Missy. And now I feel like I could never show my face around him again. I feel like such a fool.”
She nudges your hand affectionately, licking it before lying beside you.
“I know, I know… Maybe I misread the situation. Maybe I shouldn't have tried to kiss him. But it felt right in that moment, you know? And now… now I just feel so rejected and embarrassed. I don't know how I'll face him again… Ive completely ruined our friendship.” Missy continues to purr, offering silent comfort.
“Thanks, Missy. I guess I'll just have to figure out how to move forward from this… But for now, I'm glad I have you here with me. You always know how to make me feel better.”
Simon couldn't shake the feeling of unease that kept him awake throughout the night. He wanted to reach out to you, to make sure you were okay, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He knew you probably didn't want to see him, let alone talk to him, especially after he hadn't received a reply to his text.
The next morning, Simon walked to the café, rehearsing in his mind what he wanted to say to you. But when he entered, his brows furrowed in confusion as he saw a man behind the counter.
"Is y/n here?" Simon asked, his brow furrowing in disappointment when the man shook his head. "Took the week off, I'm filling in for her," the man replied.
Sighing heavily, Simon walked out of the cafe, his mind racing with thoughts of what to do next. Eventually, he decided to go to the store and pick up a few things for you.
As Simon walked into the store, he pulled up a recipe for banana nut muffins on his phone, remembering that they were your favorite. With determination, he grabbed a cart and began weaving through the aisles, picking up each ingredient listed on the recipe.
"Baking powder, baking soda, eggs, butter," he muttered to himself as he scanned the list, double-checking his cart to ensure he had everything he needed. But then, his eyes widened as he reached the next step in the instructions.
"What in the bloody fuck is a stand mixer?" He quickly scrolled through the recipe, realizing that he lacked many of the essential tools for baking.
Determined not to let this setback deter him, Simon made his way to the kitchenware aisle and began grabbing a stand mixer, measuring cups, bowls, and a muffin tray – everything necessary to complete the recipe. As he scanned the shelves, his eyes landed on a floral tray that reminded him of you.
A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he imagined presenting the freshly baked muffins to you on the elegant tray.
As Simon made his way through the store, he couldn't resist stopping by the pet aisle. Remembering Missy, he turned into the cat section and picked out a few toys, treats, and some catnip, wanting to spoil her a little.
Continuing through the aisles, Simon suddenly remembered you mentioning something about "The Hungry Games." He furrowed his brows, trying to recall exactly what you had said.
Approaching a store clerk, Simon asked, "Do you have 'The Hungry Games' on DVD?"
The man looked puzzled for a moment before correcting him, "You mean 'The Hunger Games,' bro?"
"Yeah." Simon replied, following the clerk to the DVD section. He was handed a collector's set that included all the movies, but he noticed that 'The Ballad of Snakes and Birds' was missing.
"The Ballad of Snakes and Birds isn't in here,"
The clerk laughed. "You buying this for your girlfriend?"
Simon scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Yeah, something like that."
The clerk explained that 'The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes' had recently been released in theaters, so it wasn't available on DVD yet. However, he offered to provide Simon with a bootleg website where he could watch it online.
"Okay," Simon agreed, taking the sticky note with the website address. He added the DVD collection to his cart before continuing his shopping for you, determined to make it a special gesture.
"Muffins, movies, Missy… hmm…" he muttered to himself as he strolled down an aisle filled with wooden baskets. Inspiration struck him as he realized that making you a basket filled with things you liked would be perfect. It would be easier for him to carry and he could would be able to add more thoughtful items.
He got a throw blanket adorned with cats, reminiscent of Missy, along with a selection of candles, strawberry seeds, a flower pot with a design he thought you would adore, a flower Lego set you had mentioned once, and a Ross gift card.
Stopping at the floral shop on his way home, Simon picked out a beautiful bouquet of your favorite flowers and a plant to put in the flower pot.
Back at home, Simon spent the entire afternoon making the muffins. He struggled with assembling the stand mixer, nearly breaking it in the process, and cursed himself when he accidentally dropped an eggshell into the batter. Despite his mishaps, he persevered, spending five painstaking minutes trying to retrieve the stubborn piece of shell.
When the muffins finally emerged from the oven, they looked picture-perfect, as if straight out of a baking catalog.
Simon surveyed the kitchen, which was now a chaotic mess from his baking endeavors, but he couldn't help but smile at the sight of the muffins.
Simon worked diligently, loading all the dishes into the dishwasher before turning his attention to putting together your basket. Carefully, he rolled the throw blanket and positioned it on the side, arranging the candles and movie set in the front. He placed the flower Legos on the other side, ensuring everything was balanced, before nestling your bouquet of flowers in the middle.
With precision, he placed the plant from the florist into the pot and positioned it neatly beside the flowers. The strawberry packet and gift card found their place near the pot, completing the ensemble. Stepping back, Simon admired his handiwork, a satisfied smile spreading across his face as he imagined your reaction.
After washing and drying the floral tray, he carefully arranged the cooled-down muffins on it. With Riley on a leash and in the car, Simon carried your basket and the tray of muffins to the car.
As he pulled into your driveway, Simon took a deep breath, his nerves tingling. He glanced at Riley in the passenger seat and felt a sense of reassurance. "I just gotta be honest with her," he murmured, running his hand over Riley's head. Riley responded with a lick and Simon smiled.
You heard the doorbell ring, and your heart skipped a beat as you peered through the peephole, your pulse quickening at the sight of Simon standing outside with something large in his hands. With a mixture of apprehension and curiosity, you unlocked the door and opened it slowly.
Simon stood before you with an apologetic smile, Riley wagging his tail by his feet. "I'm so sorry, love. Can we talk?" he asked softly, his gaze pleading. You felt a rush of emotions as you looked from him to the items in his hands, and a smile tugged at your lips. Stepping aside, you welcomed him in.
He set the basket and tray down on the coffee table in front of you, and you took a seat beside him on the couch as Riley explored the living room. It was time to have that conversation you had been dreading, but somehow, with Simon beside you and his heartfelt gesture before you, it felt a little less daunting.
Simon took a deep breath, his nerves practically humming with anticipation as he tapped his finger against his thigh. Never before had he felt so jittery, so utterly consumed by the weight of his emotions.
For a man who had faced countless missions and life-threatening situations, confessing his feelings to the woman he loved was the ultimate test of his courage.
You noticed his restless tapping and glanced down at his finger rhythmically drumming against his jeans. When his gaze met yours, you looked up at him, waiting expectantly for him to speak. As you both held your breath, awaiting the words that hung heavy in the air.
Simon takes a deep breath, his gaze locking with yours, and he begins to speak, his words heavy with sincerity. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry for pulling away like that. It wasn't because I didn't want to kiss you… It's just… I got scared."
Your body is turned toward him, your full attention on his words as he continues. "I've never really been good with words, but I want you to know that… I've always been afraid of letting myself be vulnerable, especially when it comes to people I care about… people I love…"
Your breath catches slightly in your throat, your mind reeling with the weight of his admission. Love? Did he truly feel that way about you?
"I care about you a lot. Maybe even more than I should admit. I was afraid that if you came to know the real me… the things I've done, you might… you might turn away."
Simon's eyes search yours for understanding. "I realize now that pushing you away was the worst thing I could've done. You're… you're perfect, and I felt like I wasn't good enough for someone like you."
"But that's not fair to you. You deserve honesty. And the truth is, I care about you more than I've cared about anyone. I can't bear the thought of losing you. I just needed to explain, to let you know how I feel. And… I'm sorry for hurting you."
He pauses, gathering his thoughts before adding softly, "And… and I want you to know… I wanted to kiss you just as much as you wanted to kiss me." you softly smiled before glancing down at your hands, taking a deep breath. Your soft gaze met his warm brown eyes.
"Simon… thank you for being honest with me. I know it couldn't have been easy for you to open up like this."
Your thumb rolled over his knuckles, "Every time you walked into the cafe, my heart skipped a beat. It was like the world paused for a moment, and all I could focus on was you."
"And whenever you looked at me, or called me 'love,' it made me feel… special," you confessed, your voice softening with emotion. "Like I was the only one in the room that mattered to you."
"All those moments we spent together, even if it was just a simple conversation or a quick smile exchanged across the room, meant everything to me," you continued, your voice filled with sincerity. "It was like… the highlight of my day, every single time."
"I always found a reason to try and talk to you because… because being around you made me happy," you admitted, your heart laid bare. "And even if I couldn't find the right words to say, just being near you made everything feel right somehow."
"I understand that we all have parts of ourselves that we're afraid to reveal, but you don't have to face those fears alone," you assured him, your gaze unwavering. "I'm here for you, Simon, always."
"And as for stepping away… well, we all make mistakes," you offered, your tone gentle but firm. "What matters is that we learn from them and try to make things right. And trust me, I'm not as perfect as you think. But together, maybe we can be perfect for each other."
Leaning in closer, your heart pounding with a mixture of nerves and anticipation, you glanced down at your hand over his and met Simon's gaze again.
"And as for the kiss… well, I wouldn't mind trying that again" you murmured, your voice laced with a hint of playfulness, yet brimming with longing.
As you leaned in closer, your heart pounding with anticipation, Simon's hand softly found its place on your cheek. You leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand comforting and familiar.
Your eyes locked, and in that moment, all doubts and fears melted away. Slowly, hesitantly, Simon inched closer, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips, silently seeking reassurance that you wanted this. With a soft smile, you closed the gap between you, both of you closing your eyes as your lips met in a soft kiss.
Simon's heart raced in his chest as he felt the soft press of your lips against his, a rush of warmth flooding through him as he moved his lips in sync with yours. In that moment, everything felt right, as if the pieces of a puzzle were finally falling into place. As you both pulled away, you both smiled and glanced at eachother before glancing away, smiles lingering on both of your faces.
Simon remembered the basket and brought it onto his lap, his expression softening as he said, “I got you a little something, a few things I thought you would like.” You were finally able to take everything in, and you gasped when you saw the Lego flower set.
“Stop! You remembered!” you exclaimed, feeling like a kid on Christmas as you looked through the basket, making appreciative little comments about everything. Simon just smiled, his heart swelling with happiness at the sight of your joy.
“You got the collector's set! We need to watch this right now!” Simon laughed and grabbed the muffins off the table. “Works out, we got snacks for the movie night.”
You gasped, grabbing the cute floral tray. “Did you make these, Si? They smell so good! You really did all of this for me? This is so sweet, Si, thank you so much.”
“Of course, sweetheart, you're worth all the time and effort,” Simon replied, a new endearment slipping from his lips.
“Can you put the movie in the DVD player? I want to light this candle and roll out this blanket. I can make us some tea?” you asked, and Simon smiled and nodded. “I’ll get on it, and some tea would be bloody nice right now.”
You smiled and nodded, and as Simon got up to put the DVD in the player, you cut the tags off the blanket and put some tea to brew while you lit a candle, setting it on the coffee table.
You sat next to Simon, both of you under the throw blanket, and you took a bite of the muffin, you realized this was better than any muffin you had ever made.
Simon took a sip of his tea as he fed Missy the treats he bought her, the cat purring contentedly on his lap. Simon looked down at Missy and then at Riley, nestled between the two of you sleeping peacefully. His gaze then lingered on you as you took another bite of the muffin while your eyes were glued to the TV. He smiled, turning to the screen, his smile lingering.
In that moment, as love swelled in his heart, Simon was truly happy, and content with life as he sat next to you.
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navybrat817 · 11 months
Note
When you want to tease Bucky, you send him pics involving a peek of your underwear.
When he retaliates, he sends you a video of him devouring a peach 😂
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UGH. Yes, please. I may have changed the fruit though.
Starving, Darling
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You tease Bucky and he retaliates in the best way. Word Count: Over 800 Warnings: Teasing, plum eating (bahaha), s/exy times implied, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Happy FriYAY, lovelies! Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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It was rare for you to finish up work early on a Friday, but you had worked over the previous four days and your boss didn’t like you going over your normal hours. You weren’t going to complain when it meant you had the afternoon off. You were, however, not thrilled that Bucky didn’t play hooky with you this afternoon. Like you, he was a hard worker and you knew he had a few things to finish up before he could join you at home.
It didn’t mean you couldn’t play.
What else were you going to do to get through the afternoon?
“Sure you can’t get off early?”
The text was innocent enough. The photo beneath it of you was not. Sprawled out in the middle of the bed with your hand down your panties, you wondered if his super soldier eyes picked up just how wet you were through the fabric.
“Or should I get off by myself? Lick my fingers clean and tell you how good my pussy tastes?”
A heartbeat later, a message from Bucky popped up. God, how fast was he typing? “Don’t you fucking dare. Only one getting you off is me.”
You smirked, wondering how far you could push before there were consequences. “Don’t know, old man. Might need to break out my blue friend. This pussy isn’t going to fuck itself.”
Bucky left the message on read.
A few minutes passed and he still hadn’t responded. You frowned as you checked to see if he was typing anything. You almost apologized for the “old man” remark. He knew you didn’t mean that, right?
The ding of a new message was one of the happiest sounds you heard all day. Would he tell you off for your sass? Tease you back? Your heart raced a bit when you realized he sent you a video. Maybe whatever he had to say was too much to type out.
You recognized the break room when you clicked on the video, gasping when Bucky’s face came into view. Even though he couldn’t see you through the screen, it was like his blue eyes stared into your soul. You could make out the gray hairs on his short beard from how close he was to the device. You wished you could bite his chin.
All in good time.
“You know what a good fruit for old men is? Plums,” he said, a bit of hair falling in his face as he looked down.
…what?
“Good for bone health and improving your memory,” he went on, the rumble of his voice mesmerizing you as he looked back at the screen. “Not to mention they’re delicious. So fucking sweet.”
As Bucky brought a plum to his mouth, he kept his eyes on the device and ran his tongue along the piece of fruit. His hand dwarfed it, a subtle reminder of how big your man was. Your clit throbbed when he bumped his nose against it and gently inhaled. It was the only warning you got before he sank his teeth in to devour it.
“Oh, fuck,” you whimpered as you watched him have his fill. Juice spilled from the corner of his mouth as he growled, reminding you of how eager he got whenever he ate you out. He was relentless when it came to your taste, demanding you give him more. And you’d give it all to him. “Fuck.”
“And still doesn’t taste as sweet as you,” he said, digging his thumb into the plum as deep as it could go. “Bet your pussy’s clenching right now, wishing I was there to fill it up. Maybe I’ll make you ride my tongue before you ride my cock. Show me how good I know you are.”
“Yes, please,” you moaned, your hips shifting on the bed and wishing he was there to relieve the friction. The first time you sat on his face, you hesitated. You’d never forget how he grabbed your hips and helped guide you up and down, moaning as you coated his tongue with your release.
Champion pussy eater and best cock I’ve ever had.
He sucked the digit clean as he narrowed his eyes. “So be good ‘til I get home, keep your legs open so I can dive right in, and don’t you dare touch my cunt again before I get my mouth on it,” he ordered, his voice deep and knowing before he took one more bite. “And I expect an apology for getting me hard during a meeting when you weren’t under the table to suck me off.”
You licked your lips, wishing he was there to slide the heavy weight of his cock to the back of your throat.
“Love you, doll,” he added, licking the last drop from his lip before the video ended.
Well played, old man.
You smiled as you typed back, “Love you, too, and I'll have your dessert waiting.”
“Good because I’m starving.”
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This man. Love and thanks for reading! 💙
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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soleilceirinen · 3 months
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Scaredy Cat | modern!Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader
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Summary: your boyfriend and your cat don't get along, they hate each other. When you have to travel for work and there is no one else to take care of your cat except for Tommy, you can't help but worry. What will you find when you return?
Warning: mentions of past animal abuse (not anymore), the cat gets sick, Tommy swears as usual, etc. If some of this might trigger you, don't read. There are mentions of smut but no real smut.
A/N: English isn't my first language, sorry if there are mistakes!
Peaky Blinders Masterlist - Cillian Murphy Masterlist
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Tommy was very good with horses. Sometimes, just to tease him, you liked to call him 'Horse Whisperer Tommy'. He didn't find it funny at all. The truth is that he didn't get along so well with cats. 
At least, this man was incapable of getting along with yours. And it was funny because most of the time he reminded you of an angry cat himself, the rest of the time too, being honest. Sometimes, when you were on the couch watching a movie with Tommy lying on your chest and you scratched the back of his head right where his hair was shorter, you would swear you could hear him purring, melting under your touch. 
Your cat liked to make things difficult. The first time Tommy stayed over at your house, the cat took the space on the bed between the two of you, making it clear which was her territory and that you were hers. Every time he tried to get closer to you he was met with an outstretched paw that pushed him to the opposite side of the bed. You thought it was funny, he not so much. When you woke up you found Tommy's suit jacket full of orange hairs, crumpled on the floor. To this day the jacket still had traces of cat hair.
Moreover, how could you forget the day when Tommy was working on his laptop from your house and the cat bit the corner of the screen? Needless to say, Tommy couldn't continue working on whatever he was doing, which pissed him off so much, because the device stopped working. Your cat spent the rest of the day with a satisfied expression on her round face.
The rest of the time, the poor creature just hissed at Tommy every time she saw him. Eventually, she ended up accepting that neither of them were going to disappear from your life. At least you hoped it wouldn't happen in a long time. 
From the bedroom you heard your boyfriend talking, his deep voice too low to understand his words. You assumed that he would be talking on the phone, always busy with work, even in his sleep he kept mumbling meaningless phrases. 
You headed to the kitchen, after a long day at work you couldn't wait any longer to have dinner. Your cat appeared out of nowhere and began to walk between your legs, creating infinity shapes and wrapping her long tail around your calf. You bent down to scratch her belly when she leaned on the floor in the middle of the kitchen.
"You're so cute," you said in a childish voice, earning a sideways glance from Thomas, full of resentment.
"Cute my balls," he spat.
The cat looked at you with her eyes wide open, as if she were asking you ‘did you hear what he said?’ You jumped to your feet and put your hands on your hips, looking at Tommy with a raised eyebrow. "May I know what's the matter with you?" 
“Your cat, Y/N,” he muttered, turning to you with his hand in front of his face. On the back of it was a deep cut, no, it was a scratch. "Look what the evil’s spawn has done to me."
You glanced at the cat one last time, she looked back at you and licked her paw innocently. Letting out a sigh, you took Tommy's hand in yours to inspect the wound.
"What have you done to make her do this?" you asked cautiously.
He responded with a huff. "Nothing. She came out of nowhere and jumped at me with her claws out."
You nodded in silence and began to disinfect his hand. Your cat was like that, she didn't like men. Actually, she only liked you. Sometimes you wondered if her bad attitude was due to her previous owners, who didn't treat her very well. The thought of someone mistreating your cat filled you with sadness as well as anger. Fucking bastards.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, to him and to her, a tinge of sadness in your voice which didn't go unnoticed to Tommy.
When you finished covering his scratch with a bandaid, Tommy grabbed you hand in his and gave it a loving squeeze before continuing placing the food on the dinner table. 
-
You had always liked animals, when you were little you weren’t allowed to have pets because your brother was allergic to them. So, the moment you got a job in the city and moved out on your own, the first thing you did was go to the nearest shelter to adopt a kitten.
That was the initial idea, to bring a small cat home and raise it. However, when you saw the sad eyes of the orange cat watching you from inside her cubicle, you had the feeling that you were predestined to end up together. She was already an adult cat at that time but that didn't matter to you.
At the shelter they briefly told you that her former owners, whoever they were, had mistreated her and left her abandoned, half dead in a garbage can. A homeless man searching through the trash found her and took her there, where she was taken care of until she luckily recovered. You couldn't be more grateful to that stranger who cared enough to rescue her. Unfortunately, two years had passed since then and no one had wanted to adopt her. 
She instantly won your heart. You took her home and named her Cat, like Holly Golightly's cat in Breakfast at Tiffany's. Plus, both of them looked alike. Of course, Tommy complained that it was a ridiculous name for a cat, similar as if he called one of his horses Horse.
-
A couple of weeks after the scratching incident with Tommy, you were notified that you had to travel to another city for a week on behalf of the company you worked for, which was great because it gave you the opportunity to explore new places. The disadvantage was that your cat was old and had to take a pill every day, for life. You didn't trust anyone to leave them in charge of such a task, but not going on the company trip would mean losing the opportunity to receive a promotion in the coming months. You didn't know what to do but you had an idea.
That night Tommy was going to visit you, so you would make him a suggestion.
After having dinner, Tommy and you started kissing passionately. Everything with him was very intense. His warm, calloused hands ran along your sides under your shirt, leaving a trail of goosebumps over your soft skin. Your fingertips scratched the shaved sides of his hair and he let out a moan, pressing his lips harder against yours, never breaking the contact. 
You were starting to feel his bulge growing against your crotch, so you moved your hips against him, enjoying the friction. Now you were the one who let out a moan of pleasure.
“Fuck,” he murmured, burying his face in your neck as he panted. "Can't you make her leave, or at least make her stop staring at me like that?"
You looked at him slightly confused, following his gaze to the cardboard box where Cat was lying with her head resting on the edge of it, watching you without blinking. It didn't matter how many beds you bought her, none could beat the cardboard box. Rolling your eyes, you placed a hand on your boyfriend's face and caressed his sharp cheekbone, trying to get him to focus on you again.
"Just ignore her. Look at me," you said softly, kissing his jaw.
Tommy pulled away from you and sat on the sofa, running a hand over his face. "I can't, love. She's looking at me, killing my mood." He shrugged, looking sick.
You sighed, mentally saying goodbye to any possibility of Tommy fucking the hell out of you. "How bold she is, daring to look down on the great Thomas Michael Shelby."
He gave you a wide eyed look before frowning. "Are you making fun of me? Hey, where do you think you're going? Taking the beast to another room?"
"I'm going to get some water."
Once in the kitchen you took a couple of deep breaths, gathering the courage to talk to him. It was your opportunity to convince him to stay with Cat. You returned to the living room and sat next to him, crossing your legs on the sofa.
"Tommy, do you remember my work trip?"
He looked at you with a blank face for a few seconds until a spark of knowledge shone at the back of his eyes. "Yes, you're going away for a week. Is that right?"
You nodded, biting your lip. "Can I ask you a favor?"
His expression changed to one of suspicion. Usually you didn't ask for things, you didn't hesitate, so he knew you were about to ask him to do something he wouldn't like.
"It depends".
"You have to come in the morning to feed Cat, but not too much because she eats it all and gets sick," Tommy opened his mouth to complain but you were faster, placing the palm of your hand over his lips before continuing. "At night you come back and give her the pill with a bit of soft food, you have to pay attention and make sure she has swallowed it, okay? Also,  change her water, because when she has it for more than a day she won’t drink it."
He gave you a small kiss on the palm of your hand. You removed it and looked at him through your lashes, expectantly.
"Anything else?" he asked, feigning boredom. You smiled. It had been very easy, you hadn't even had to convince him.
"Yes! You have to clean up her cat litter."
-
The day of your trip, you left everything ready so that when he arrived at night, Tommy would find things easily. 
He opened your apartment door and stuck his head in doubtfully, there was no sign of the furry little beast. He was having flashbacks to the last time he stayed over, when Cat started running around the house making weird noises as if she was possessed by Satan himself. Tommy still felt chills remembering how the cat jumped into the bedroom moving sideways with her tail twisted while she howled. You couldn’t stop laughing, used to see your cat doing that almost every day, but Tommy kept saying that he witnessed a demonic possession that night.
But at that moment there were no howls or strange noises. In fact, everything was quiet. One of those silences that he had experienced so many times in his life before. The kind of silence that does not bode well. Tommy squared his shoulders, he wasn't going to get carried away by his superstitious ideas. It was just a cat. He would come in, give her the pill and some water, and then he would leave. Fast and clean. 
As he approached the corner where the hallway turned to the left at a ninety-degree angle he stopped. Your cat liked to hide there before jumping like a lion hunting for its prey on Tommy's legs. He still had the scar from the last bite, he didn't want to take another one.
This time he was prepared. With a quick movement he stood on the next section of the hallway. But there was nothing. Frowning and feeling a bit ridiculous, Tommy walked through the house looking for the little beast until he found her lying on the sofa.
The cat was curled up in a ball, her head resting on the armrest. Only her green eyes moved following Tommy's movements as he approached her. She seemed kind of off and Tommy couldn't help but feel a tinge of empathy.
“Do you miss Y/N too?” he asked out loud. The cat blinked weakly. "This place feels weird without her around, huh?" 
Tommy didn't know what to expect, some kind of reaction or something. The cat remained still, staring at the wall. He gave her one last glance, shrugging and heading to the kitchen. You had placed a note on the refrigerator door with more instructions, attached with a magnet in a miniature version of the Eiffel Tower that Tommy brought you from Paris. 
He ran his fingertips over your handwriting, thinking. He was going to take you to France the next time you had holidays. The rest of the refrigerator was covered with polaroids of you smiling at the camera, the two of you together, you with your friends and family... and the cat.
'Ah yes, the cat.' Tommy remembered, turning around.
The food and water bowls were full, as if she hadn't touched them all day. That was strange, the feeling of something not going right increased. Grabbing a clean bowl, Tommy put some soft food in it and inserted the pill, completely camouflaged, before placing it on the floor in front of the sofa. 
"Eat," he indicated authoritatively. 
He was a man used to being obeyed in everything, everyone did except you. You were the only one who could handle him like a rag doll and he wouldn’t complain. There was no doubt that this cat was yours, she didn't even look at the food.
Tommy grunted, losing his patience. He grabbed the bowl with one hand and the cat with the other, pushing them together as much as he could. The animal did not resist, after a few minutes a third of the food was gone, including the pill, but she refused to swallow more. "As you wish," he murmured, leaving the remains of food next to the other bowls.
When he looked into the small laundry room where you had the cat's litter box, his heart skipped a beat. Everything was a mess, the floor was full of poop and vomit.
"Fucking hell," he muttered under his breath. Then he returned to the living room, ready to give the cat the reprimand of her life but stopped short. He hadn't noticed before but there were also traces of vomit on the living room floor. "Shit."
Just then his phone started ringing. Your name appeared on the screen. He cleared his throat and answered.
"Hello Tommy" your voice sounded happy although somewhat tired. "How are you doing, honey?"
"Good. I gave the pill to the beast, don't worry. Are you okay?" He spoke as fast as he could, trying to move the conversation away from the cat. 
"Yeah, it's a little boring you know, all day in meetings and now they want to go to have dinner but I don't feel like going. I haven't been able to call you all day, as you can see  I haven't stopped.” You let out a small laugh. ”Hey Tommy, thanks for taking care of Cat. It means a lot to me. I have to go, they came to pick me up. I love you!"
You hung up the call before he could say anything back. Leaving the phone on the coffee table, he walked into the balcony, feeling the cold wind against his skin.
Tommy leaned on the balustrade as he lit a cigarette, smoking slowly. You didn’t like him smoking inside the house, or smoking in general, but that was his problem and you couldn’t change it. This way the balcony became his territory. Once he finished, he went back inside, closing the door behind him. The last thing he needed was the cat jumping out the window. 
He started cleaning everything the best he could while debating whether to call you again and tell you everything, that something was wrong with your cat, or try to fix it on his own. Yes, he would do that better. Tommy was a man of resources, he wasn't going to ruin your trip and worry you if he could take care of it.
After making sure everything was clean and the cat had food and water, he left your house, relieved that he wouldn't have to spend another second alone with that animal. 
-
When he returned the next day and found both the food and water intact, he headed to the living room, where Cat was still lying in the same position as the day before. He felt his soul leaving his body. 
Tommy swallowed and sat on the couch next to the cat. He approached his hand slowly to touch her soft fur, expecting the cat to hiss like she always did when he got too close to her. That would mean everything was fine. But that didn’t happen, the feline's only reaction was shuddering and letting out a pitiful whimper so soft that if he hadn't been sitting next to her, Tommy wouldn't have heard it.
Shit, shit, shit. He covered his mouth with his hand, his brain working at maximum power. He had to do something. Being aware of how important that cat was to you, if something bad happened to her... he didn't even want to imagine your reaction. 
Without wasting another second, he dialed May Carleton’s number, the veterinarian who sometimes treated his horses. After explaining the situation, she told him to bring Cat into the clinic to take a look at her. Tommy picked up the cat in his arms, wrapped in a blanket, and held her to his chest like one does when cradling a baby. The poor thing let him do it, too weak to complain.
The drive from your house to the clinic was frantic, Tommy drove like a madman and once there he skipped the line in the waiting room, entering directly and leaving the bundle on the metal table. "Thomas, you can't sneak in like this," said May while putting on a pair of clean latex gloves.
"It's an emergency," he said, pointing to the metal table.
The vet's expression changed from annoyance to concern the moment she laid her eyes on the poor creature. "Okay, Thomas. I'll take over from here, why don't you wait outside?"
It turned out that she had eaten some plant that's poisonous to cats. This had caused her intestine and some other organs to inflame, or something like that. At least they had discovered it in time to help her.
The first thing Tommy did when he got back to your apartment was throwing away all the plants. The second thing was not taking his blue eyes off from Cat for a minute during the next three days.
-
At the end of the week you couldn’t wait any longer to go back home. You called Tommy several times but he didn't pick up the phone. Every time you had talked to him in the past few days he always told you that everything was going great. You had a hard time believing it. In about twenty minutes you’ll be home and you could finally hug your baby Cat and take a shower, in that order.
You stopped at the entrance of your home, leaving the suitcase and your shoes next to Tommy’s. He's here after all, you thought. The lights were off, all of them except for the one in the living room. You walked towards there and what you saw made your heart fill with love. 
Tommy was on the sofa, fast asleep. Curled against his side was Cat, sleeping too. She was holding Tommy’s hand between her paws. You covered your mouth with your hand, hiding your smile. They were too adorable. Never had you thought the day in which the two of them could get along would come. Seeing them sleeping together seemed like a dream. 
You took your phone and started taking pictures of them. The next week you would print one to put it on your fridge door, a new moment to remember.
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pedropascallme · 7 months
Text
Thank You, Mr Miller
Pairing: dbf!Joel x f!Reader
Summary: "'So, what, I let you treat me like a whore and now you’re hiring a new babysitter?' You goaded him. Initially you thought this was the wrong thing to do—his brow raised in surprise at your words, and you’d considered the possibility that maybe this wasn’t what he had in mind, that it wasn’t what he wanted. But he grabbed you by the wrist, stroking your skin gently with his thumb."
Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), age gap (reader is 20-22 age range, Joel is mid 50s), dom/sub dynamics (dom!Joel x sub!Reader), kinda brattammer!Joel? fingering, oral (f recieving), p in v sex, degradation, praise, little bit of cum play, Joel is talky when he's horny, no outbreak, if I missed anything else please let me know!
AN: Here it is...the moment you have all been waiting for...the long awaited part 2 of Yes, Mr Miller!! I hope you all enjoy <3
You woke up with your blankets pooled around your ankles. The heat from the fabric wrapped around you made your feet feel heavy under the sun shining in through your window.
You felt simultaneously drunk and deliciously sober; the daze and amazement at the events of last night washed away to reveal the underlying satisfaction of having finally gotten what you’d yearned for so deeply for so long.
Grabbing your phone off the nightstand, it finally registered to you how late you’d slept in; your parents had left for the day, for work and their respective errands, leaving you to sleep the day away despite more pressing matters. Your phone buzzed in your hand.
Still seeing you today?
Joel’s name lit up the screen and you felt yourself kick your feet, hearing the text in his voice, southern drawl and all. The thrill you’d experienced the night before hadn’t subsided, and the thought of being alone with him again, so intimate and passionate, made you bite your lip as you typed out your response.
Yeah. Gimme an hour.
~~~
The path to the Miller household felt longer today. Maybe it was the bubbling combination of nerves and excitement that you felt low in your stomach, but you kicked at the stones on the path, picking lint off of your skirt and trying not to let your hair fall victim to the humidity.
You hesitated before knocking on the door, unsure of whether or not you should change such a miniscule habit under even these circumstances.
You knocked anyway.
Joel answered, wearing a t-shirt that hugged his arms and abdomen, allowing you to admire his wide frame and the small scars near his elbows.
“Think we’re a little past knockin,’ darlin.’” He smiled down at you, and you flashed a shy smile that didn’t fool him for a second.
“Just wanted to be polite.”
“Yeah, I bet you do,” Joel licked his lips, “c’mon in.”
You followed him through the living room before stopping him at the foot of the stairs.
“Where’s Sarah?”
“With Tommy. Been buggin’ me to see him—knows he’ll do whatever she wants him to.” He scoffed.
“You do whatever she wants you to.” You grinned at his hypocrisy.
“Within reason.” Joel smirked.
“So, what, I let you treat me like a whore and now you’re hiring a new babysitter?” You goaded him, swatting at his chest. Initially you thought this was the wrong thing to do—his brow raised in surprise at your words, and you’d considered the possibility that maybe this wasn’t what he had in mind, that it wasn’t what he wanted. But he grabbed you by the wrist, stroking your skin gently with his thumb.
“F’I recall correctly, you loved bein’ treated like a whore.” Joel brought your hand to his lips, kissing each individual finger before letting it drop at your side.
“W—I might have…” You felt shy again, peeking up at him from under your eyelashes to watch the way his eyes darkened. “I think you liked it more.” You smiled, smug, but still carefully monitoring his reactions. Joel closed the space between you; your eyes came up just below his chin, and when he leaned down you could feel his breath on your face, his nose a hair’s width from your own.  
“I think you’re mighty confident for someone I had beggin’ for more less than twenty-four hours ago.” His arms wrapped around your waist, but he didn’t move to kiss you, letting his words hang in the air.
“Mr. Miller…” You whispered, unable to make more than a peep with strong arms at your side and fierce eyes boring into you. Your hands came up to steady yourself on his forearms.
“Go on, darlin’,” he remained the same stoic, hard to read man you had come to admire, but you could see the anticipation building in him; with his lips parted slightly you could see his tongue trace over his teeth, wanting, waiting. “Beg.”
“Want you…” You tilted your chin up, hoping he would finally give you a taste of what you craved, “need you. Please.”
Joel finally gave in, pressing his mouth to yours in a heated exchange of spit and teeth; you could taste the smell of the cologne he wore and the mint of his toothpaste, and something that was so purely Joel. Your arms came to perch on his shoulders, lifting yourself up enough to match the fervor with which he was kissing you, letting your tongue dance across his lips and in turn letting his own lick into your mouth. In the light of day, there was something so much more profound about exploring each other—it felt less secretive, less taboo, and much more affectionate than the moments you had shared in the car last night. You moaned into his mouth, letting him capture and savor the sounds you made for him.
“Good girl,” Joel hesitantly broke away from you, your heavy breath matching his, “jump up for me, sweetheart.” You felt large hands grab the meat of your thighs, and you squealed as he hoisted you up to rest your legs around his waist, “Doin’ this right. Takin’ you to bed.”
You hummed, kissing his neck while he maneuvered up the stairs, feeling a small swat on your thigh when the love bites you gave him nearly made him miss a step.
You didn’t realize that you had made it into the bedroom, too busy sucking at the exposed skin he had foolishly granted you access to. It wasn’t until he dropped you onto the mattress that you realized he had stopped moving.
“Try’na kill me?” He huffed, “kissin’ me like that while I’m walkin’ up those crooked ass stairs?”
You scooted up the bed towards the headboard. “Shouldn’t’ve picked me up if you didn’t want my kisses, Mr. Miller.” You shrugged, enjoying the way his nostrils flared when you teased him. He grabbed your ankle, pulling you down the mattress, and you yelped at the sudden movement. Joel spread your legs and leaned over you.
“When did you become such a fuckin’ brat?” He pulled up your shirt, exposing your bare, braless chest. He let out a dry laugh, “Knew you were getting’ fucked today, didn’t even dress yourself properly.” The words were muttered, mostly for his ears as appreciation for the easy access you were granting him. He dipped his head down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, his hand grabbing at the other one.
“Oh—! Yes, yes…” You felt his teeth brush against the pebbled flesh before his tongue swept over it in a soothing circular motion. The hand on your other breast pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, before releasing it to engulf your entire breast and squeeze.
“Fuckin’ perfect,” Joel moaned into your flesh, sucking hard on your nipple and making your back arch into him, the feeling of his mouth on your chest had pleasure pooling in your lower stomach. “Dreamed about these pretty fuckin’ tits.” He resumed his movements, switching sides to pay more attention to the breast he’d been squeezing.
“Yours,” you combed your fingers through his hair, “all yours.” You moaned when he began to suck bruises onto the plush skin of your breasts, pulling at his hair gently in appreciation.
“That’s right, honey,” he came up to kiss your neck, “who do you belong to?” His hand came down to the hem of your skirt, flicking it up to allow his fingers to trail over your ruined, dainty cotton underwear. “Who’s this pretty li’l pussy belong to?”
“You—fuck—you! Please, you Mr. Miller. Please, please, please.” Your cries became repetitive when you felt his fingers press carefully against your clit, his calloused skin drinking in the moisture that seeped through your thin panties.
“I know, sweetheart.” He fell to his knees in front of you, pushing your skirt up your hips and out of his way to let him worship you properly; his hands toyed with the waistband of your underwear, and you grabbed limply at his wrist to spur him on. He all but ripped the fabric off of you, letting it dangle loosely around your ankle before you kicked it off and across the room, bringing your legs to his shoulders. Joel brought his face to your core, inhaling deeply, savoring your scent.
He brought two fingers up to pull you open wider for him to see. “So pretty, darlin’,” his fingers left your lips, trailing up and down your inner thigh before you felt the whisper of a touch on your entrance. “So easy to get you wet, princess. Eager li’l whore.” You squirmed, sighing softly at his words and trying to get what you needed.
Clearly eager in his own right, Joel’s tongue came down to lap up the juices pooling over your slit; you felt the muscle trail up to your clit and your legs folded and tightened around his neck, thighs squeezing his head in reaction to the sudden friction. Joel chuckled, arms wrapping around your legs to pry you open and allow himself space to bury his face into your cunt. You felt him suck on your clit, mouth closed around it, while his tongue came down to swipe over it. The back and forth combined with the pressure his lips sucked over you made your head swim, and you reached down to grip at his curls. He released you, spreading his tongue over your hole once more to explore the flavors you gave him. You felt him push into you, and you whimpered at the small but pleasant intrusion. The scruff of his beard rubbed into your thighs while he fucked you with his tongue, his nose occasionally bumping your clit as he tasted you.
“More…” You whined, one hand buried in Joel’s hair while the other pawed at your breast.
“Greedy li’l thing,” Joel kissed your clit softly before turning to place open-mouthed kisses on your thighs. “Tell me what you need, darlin’. More what?” His words were gentle despite the underlying need that laced them.
“You—anything...just want more.” Your words sounded out from your blissed-out haze, and Joel relished the opportunity to see you this way.
“Gonna be good for me? Keep your legs spread if I give you my fingers?” You nodded furiously, making a pathetic show of your obedience by widening your stance around his shoulders. Joel grinned, placing two fingers in your mouth. “Suck.” You coated them, and when he pulled them out a thin strand of saliva kept your mouth connected to them. Joel dipped his hand down to your cunt with the other still holding your thigh to the side, pushing both fingers into you and scissoring them slowly before drawing them in and out. Gasps escaped your throat when he curved them, his mouth returning to your clit while he stroked your most sensitive spot.
“Please, please, please—” You couldn’t think straight, so intently focused on the way his tongue felt against you, the rhythm of his fingers matching your steadily increasing heartbeat.
“Please what, darlin’?” Joel taunted you, speeding up the pace at which his fingers pumped in and out of your heat, “You wanna cum for me? Be a good girl like you were last night?”
Moans fell freely from your mouth, warmth building in your abdomen and spreading to the tips of your fingers. “Please, Mr. Miller…” You begged, fisting his hair in a subconscious attempt to lessen the overwhelming pleasure despite how badly you wanted it to continue.
Joel growled against you, his fingers curling more fervently. “Go on, then. Cum.”
You didn’t have to be told twice; your legs flexed then went limp around his neck, back arching into his hand and mouth, riding out the high he had gifted you.
“Fuckin’ pretty when you cum,” Joel praised, slipping his fingers out of you and moving down from your clit to lick the juices dripping from your entrance. “Taste so good, honey.”
Your skirt rested on your stomach, shirt still pulled over your chest, and you felt so utterly content with the feeling of having Joel whisper sweet nothings to you from between your thighs. You feathered your fingers through his hair, silently urging him to come up, letting out a small whimper when he licked small stripes over your clit before coming up to face you.
“Sweet girl,” Joel pecked kisses on your face, “not actin’ so tough now that you got the attention you needed.”
You giggled quietly, pulling him down for a kiss and scratching shapes over his back, still full of want even after he’d made you cum on his tongue. Your hips bucked up lightly against him.
 “Pretty li’l whore needs more?” Joel groaned, pushing his growing erection into your thigh, and you whined. “Use your fuckin’ words.”
Your palms fell flat on his back, and you pulled him in tight against you, tilting your head to whisper your wishes in his ear. “Want your cock, Mr. Miller.”
It was like watching a man possessed; Joel stood, leering over you as he pulled off his shirt, undoing his fly in one swift motion. He pulled you towards him, letting you sit up so that he could strip you of your own clothing. You shimmied out of your skirt before lifting your arms up to let him take your shirt off. He threw it to the side, and your hands drifted over the bulge in his jeans. You looked up at him, batting your lashes.
“Christ, you’ll kill me.” Joel took hold of your hands, throwing them behind you and encouraging you to lie back down. His hands kneaded your thighs, pulling them open again so that he could situate himself between them. You watched him free his cock from the confines of the denim, your lips parting and mouth watering.
It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about Joel’s cock before; it was the subject of all your fantasies. But now, watching him stroke himself above you, you felt unbridled desperation take hold of you. His hand wrapped around the base of his thick length, tip flushed red and veins running down the sides—you had never wanted anything more in your life.
You wiggled your hips, the pitiful noises you made doing nothing to encourage him to fuck you, only making him laugh over you.
“Told you to use your words,” Joel leaned over you, hand wrapping around your cheeks to certify that your focus was on him, “or do you just like bein’ difficult?”
You hummed at the way he spoke, thick accent coating the filth he said in sweet molasses. You blinked at him in faux innocence, “Can I have your cock?”
“Where are your manners, girl?”
“Please, Mr. Miller,” you spoke slowly, purposefully giving your voice a sultry edge, “can I have your cock?”
Joel straightened, taking his cock and running it through your folds, letting you coat him in your cum. “That’s what you want, sweetheart?” You felt him press his tip to your entrance, “Need this young cunt nice and full of my cock?”
Your restraint faltered, now purely focused on getting what you needed, and you couldn’t help the whimpers you let out, or the way your once teasing words turned into sobs of “please, please, please!”
Joel pushed his length into you, letting you acclimate to the feeling inch by inch; his brow furrowed, eyes closed, and your mouth fell open at the way he speared you so perfectly. “Goddamn, so fuckin’ tight f’me,” Joel groaned, bottoming out. His dominance faded slightly when he brushed the hair out of your face, “Feel good?”
“So full…” You breathed out, your hand falling flat against Joel’s lower stomach.
“S’what you wanted, ain’t it?” Joel bent himself forward, pressing his cock into you further, and you moaned out. “Wanted to get filled nice ‘nd deep?” There was that authority.
You nodded, nose brushing against his. “Fuck me—please fuck me.” You mewled, now accustomed to the stretch and longing to feel him wreck you. “Want you to break me, Mr. Miller.”
Joel let out an ungodly growl, immediately beginning to thrust in and out of you. “Fuckin’ slut—this what you needed? Big fuckin’ cock stretching this pussy out?” He lifted your legs over his shoulders, the angle lifting your bottom half off the bed and giving him more space to pound into you. “Pretty young thing doesn’t know what to do with this kind of attention, huh?”
His taunts had a shred of truth to them; your tongue lolled out from your mouth, spit drifting down over your cheek, and your eyes, though hooded, couldn’t hide how they rolled back with every deep push of his cock. You whined, trying to string together a sentence as best you could, but all you could manage was a continuous chant of “yes, yes, yes.”
“So pretty when you’re getting’ fucked,” Joel rambled, unable to keep his thoughts to himself when your pussy squeezed him tight, “you like this, princess? Like lettin’ a man twice your age use your cunt like this?”
You moaned, arching your back in wordless approval. Joel wasn’t satisfied with this, pulling out and smacking his cock against your clit.
“Asked you a fuckin’ question, girl.”
You cried out for him. “Yes! Yes, I fucking love it—please, I’m sorry, keep going!”
“That’s what I fuckin’ thought.” Joel reached around you, gently maneuvering you onto your stomach. “Put your knees up for me, baby.” You obliged, tucking your knees under yourself and keeping your back arched for him. He slid back into you, the head of his cock nestled perfectly against your g-spot in this position. You felt hands pull the hair off your neck, and Joel came closer to whisper in your ear, “Can I fuck you like this, darlin’?”
You hummed an affirmative, “Yes, please,” and pushed yourself back against him, letting the curve of your ass rest against his hips. Joel grabbed at the skin of your hips, squeezing at the soft flesh and watching the way your ass bounced against him.
“Fuck—yeah, like that, honey, that’s right. Fuck yourself on my cock.” You sped up, eager to impress Joel with your servility and delighting in the way you could feel every inch and vein of his thick cock with every movement you made. You rested your head on the mattress, arms spread out above you, and you could hear Joel’s deep moans of approval and praise.
“So perfect for me, s’so good.” His head fell back and his fingers dug into the flesh of your ass. He began to guide your hips at a faster pace; big hands holding your waist, pulling you flush against him. He watched with dark eyes the way you squirmed on him during an especially deep thrust, the way your fingers grasped at whatever they could find and your moans got higher in pitch when he fucked into your sweet spot.
“Feels so fucking good, Mr. Miller.” You mumbled into the bedsheets, voice uneven with the way your body bounced with every push of his hips, “you feel so good.”
“Needy girl, you feel good?” Joel cooed, “you gonna cum for me again? Let me feel you soak my cock?” He sped up his movements, his fingers moving down your body to apply pressure to your sensitive clit. Your toes curled, eyes watering at the overwhelming enjoyment that coursed through you; you lost any remaining control you had, legs uncurling beneath you, mouth producing whimpered gibberish. Joel held your now straight legs, using them as leverage to force himself deeper into your cunt. “My good girl, there you go. Cum for me, darlin’, lemme feel you squeeze me nice ‘nd tight. Show me again how fuckin’ pretty you look when you cum for Mr. Miller.”
You felt your legs tremble, eyes shut tight and pathetic, wanton moans escaping you. His fingers continued to massage your clit and with one last thrust of his cock you felt yourself let go completely. You screamed out cries of his name, whole body shaking around him as he continued to fuck you through the intensity of your climax.  
“Fuck—fuck, so good—perfect fuckin’ girl.” Joel groaned, leaning forward to press his chest into your back, each thrust sloppier than the last as he approached his own release. “Where do you want my cum, sweetheart—tell me what you want.” He was practically begging, so close to his high, awaiting your command.
“Cum in me,” you spoke barely above a whisper, “please cum in me, Mr. Miller—need it, please.” Your legs still trembled from the aftershock of your orgasm, the light, airy feeling clouding your mind, coming down to earth only to provide necessary details; “On the pill.”
Joel kissed your neck from his perch behind you, thrusts messy and cock throbbing. “Yeah? Gonna let me cum inside you, princess? Fill this pussy up, fuckin’ mark you?” He got faster, sloppier still, and you whined in encouragement. He pushed himself deep into you, and you felt his cock stir when he let out a low groan of your name, coating your walls with his spend, rocking his hips against you to keep his load deep.
He slumped over you, breathing hard. You reached a hand up to pull gently on his hair. “Heavy.” He smiled through his gulps of air, slipping his cock out of you with a hiss, rolling off of you and pulling you against his side. Your hand cupped his cheek while his own hand roamed the side of your body.
“Was that—do you feel good, darlin’? Wasn’t too rough, was I?” His other hand came up to stroke your hair, eyes searching you for signs of hurt or regret.
“Perfect,” you kissed his chest, “felt perfect.” You felt his cum dripping out of you, thighs coated with the sticky moisture.
“Yeah?” Joel smirked, nosing the top of your head. He removed his hand from your hair, dipping down between your legs and pushing a finger into you to feel the slick mess you'd both made. “Then what do you say?” His hand came up to your face.
You cuddled closer to him, letting the heat and sweat from his body sink into yours before wrapping your lips around his offered finger and tasting the milky combination of your cum and his. “Thank you, Mr. Miller.”
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