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#it’s just...right calls were made all the way through
fairy-angel222 · 2 days
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𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐃? 𓂃 ࣪˖ ཐིཋྀ⋆⭒˚.⋆༄
—gojo satoru x fem! reader
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𓈒⟡₊⋆∘ your husband’s already given you two children, one more wouldn’t hurt right?
𓈒⟡₊⋆∘ cw: fluff, smut, breeding, praise, petnames, squirting, impregnation, dirty talk
𓈒⟡₊⋆∘ a/n: requested by anon, i loved writing this so much
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Eight years.
You and Gojo had been married for eight years. Having met each other in high school, him being the one to get down on one knee the second you both had finished college. He knew you were the one for him ages ago.
That you were his from the moment he met you.
Some would say that you two were living the dream life, despite how young you both were. Gojo never hiding the fact that he was willing to spoil you day by night.
He loved you more than anything. And he never failed to show that through the many acts of affection. His favorite one being buried deep inside you as he whispered the sweet nothings into your ear.
The sex drive of your marriage was high, that was a fact. It was how you ended up with two children in the first place. Two girls who looked exactly like their dad, not even bothering to try with your genes. They had his complexion, his hair, his overly beautiful eyes. They had everything of his.
When you had your first daughter, most people in your life assumed she was an accident. Assumed that Gojo had simply “forgotten” to pull out.
They didn’t know how noisy you’d gotten that night, holding onto your husband tightly as you begged him to fill you up. Begged him to put a baby in you. You wanted to feel all of him.
Your second child was all him. Him begging to give you another one. To pump you nice and full with one more baby. And who were you to say no? You two were building a family and you loved it.
Four and two.
Those were your daughters’ ages, beautiful girls who looked almost identical to each other, obviously. You liked to call them and Gojo triplets. And it made his heart swell knowing that they were something you had both created. Together. Even though they clearly had a favorite already.
His daughters clung to him every second that he was around them. Refusing to let daddy go as your youngest sat in his lap with an adorable grin. Giggling softly as her big sister tied scrunchies into the soft bed of white hair.
“Mommy look! Daddy’s all pretty now,” she clapped, clearly proud of her work as she pulled lightly at the short ponytails.
You watched Gojo grumble under his breath, unable to hide his smile as he looked up at your standing frame. Cheeks tinted red when you laughed softly. “He is baby, he’s very pretty now. Looks just like you two.” Leaning down to peck both their cheeks with a smile of your own.
You yelped softly as you were pulled down, sat on the other side of your husband’s lap as he smirked. “You know who’s just as perfect as you two? Your mommy.”
Your older daughter hummed, cuddling into your lap with a nod. “You are very pretty mommy. Wanna look like you when i get big.”
You couldn’t find the words. As much as you knew that was impossible, it warmed your heart to the core. Especially when your other daughter nodded in agreement, fitting herself on you beside her sister. “You’re very very pretty mommy.”
“Thanks my babies.” You smiled warmly, an arm wrapped around each of them as Gojo wrapped one around you. “Now, you owe me a little kiss too.” He pouted. You giggled, pressing your lips to his in a short kiss before pulling away.
Neither of you wanting to hear the exaggerated ewww that escaped from your daughters’ mouths when you kissed for even a second too long.
You liked to think that you got lucky to have such sweet children. The kind that makes others actually want a child of their own.
You loved your life. Everyone could see that. But it had been way too long since you and Gojo were able to spend some alone time together.
It wasn’t your idea, it was his. And you couldn’t not give in when you allowed yourself to think about it. A weekend all to yourselves with complete privacy. A chance for you both to relax.
It was Friday, and you rung the doorbell to your dear friend Nanami’s house, a childish grin on Gojo’s face as he waited for the door to swing open.
Nanami raised a brow upon seeing you two, a cup of coffee in his hand as if you’d interrupted his peaceful morning.
“Uncle Kentooo!!” Two high pitched voices rung out. Little legs running to hug the blond man by his own. Nanami’s eyes widened momentarily, steadying the mug in his hand away from the two latching on to him.
A small smile gracing his face when they grinned up at him. “Well hello you two.”
Gojo grabbed the cup from his friend when your daughters started making upsie signals with their hands. Nanami picking them both up on either side of his torso, turning sharply on his heel as he asked them about their week.
“If that isn’t the sweetest thing I don’t know what is.” You giggled, Gojo’s hand on the small of your back as you brought in two pink princess bags. “So.. Kento-”
“We need a favor.” Gojo was quick to cut to the chase, Nanami not bothering to even watch him as he let small hands play in his hair. His emotions far from the bored expression on his face.
“I’ll watch them.”
“Thank you so much Kento. My parents will be coming for them tonight.” You smiled, the man only nodding with a hidden shrug. “You’re just lucky they’re nothing like him.” Pointing his head in the direction of the man sat next to you.
“Hey!” Gojo gasped in faux offense, “I’m awesome thank you very much.”
Nanami only scoffed. And you and Gojo stood up to give your girls a final hug and kiss to their foreheads. “We’ll see you on Sunday okay my darlings? Grandma and grandpa will come for you later yeah? Mommy and Daddy love you so much.”
“Uh huh, bye mommy, bye daddy!” They sung together, something else that they tended to do from time to time.
As you walked out of Nanami’s house, ready to go home and pack a few clothes, your head tilted. Confusion evident on your face when you looked up at Gojo. “Doesn’t he have work today?”
“Yeah but he adores them. He’d skip work everyday if he had to.”
It was true, Nanami was one of your biggest supports. He was always willing to take them off your hands for even an hour. He hated to admit it but he loved them like they were his own. He truly thought of himself as an uncle.
You found it adorable how serious he was until he was sure you left. Allowing himself to give into their tea parties and makeovers. He was one of the people you trusted most.
You knew that your daughters were in good hands for the day, especially since Nobara and Yuji would be there. Their inner children coming out whenever they were around your daughters.
Gojo had taken you to a hot spring resort nearly two hours away. One of the best that he could find.
You were in awe the second you stepped into the place. Never getting used to the amount of money Gojo was willing to spend on you.
The room was huge, and to say it was gorgeous was an understatement. But it paled in comparison to the view. The large steaming pools which were adorned with large marble sloped rocks and tall trees. The whole resort enclosed within mountains which seemed to touch the clouds. The sun setting behind beds of luscious green as the sky glimmered pink and orange.
It was perfect.
Snd the first thing you did after settling in was head into the heated waters. Breathing out contented sigh as you sunk neck down. Allowing the warmth to calm every last one of your nerves. The tension you didn’t even know you had in your shoulder slowing subsiding as you leaned your head back onto one of the large rocks.
“This is amazing.” You smiled, blinking your eyes open to look at your husband, who kept complaining that the area he was in was too hot. Not allowing himself to go any further than his legs until you pulled him into a hug.
Letting the water flow in place at your shoulders. Ignoring the over dramatic faces that your husband was making at the “heat”, simply resting your head in his neck as you relaxed in each other’s arms.
The tv blared ever so slightly as you cuddled into Gojo’s side. The coolness of the room unable to beat the warmth that still stuck to your skin. You had just got off a call with the girls. They were at their grandparents’ house. No doubt having way too much dessert before bed. Though they’d most likely get to stay up late watching cartoons.
“You know..” Gojo started, his fingers trailing soft shapes on your skin, “We should have another one.”
You lifted your head off of his chest, “I don’t think they’ll sell us drinks right now love.”
“I’m not talking about drinks.” Your stomach fluttered when Gojo turned you over, his knee in between your thigh as his lips ghosted over your ear. “I’m talking about putting another baby in you.” Allowing it to brush over your clothed clit.
Your lips parted in a whimper when he kissed down your neck. Swiftly pulling off your shirt to kiss at your chest, taking each of your nipples into his mouth while he fondled the other. Your hips bucking up into him when he began grinding his hips slowly into you.
You shivered when his lips touched your belly. Peppering it with small kisses as he hummed against your skin. “Let me make your belly swell.”
You moaned softly, nodding your head eagerly. “P-please.”
“Hmm, gonna give me a third one sweet girl? Gonna make us a pretty family of five?” He husked, kisses getting more aggressive as he trailed back up. His cock twitching at the little whimpers that you failed to contain when you made a noise of agreement.
“Mhm, ‘m gonna give you another one. Wanna give you another one.”
“Yeah?” He breathed, looking for that final bit of confirmation before his lips smashed onto yours. The kiss hard and needy as he worked on removing the rest of your clothes. His fingers dipping down between your folds with a groan. “You’re so soaked f’ me pretty.”
He ran his hand up your slit teasingly, rubbing tiny circles onto your clit making you whine out. “Toruu, no teasing.”
He chuckled, his thick cock prodding at your entrance as he lifted your legs to wrap around his waist. Your hands instinctively draping around his shoulders so that he was pressed into you. A loud moan sounding through the room as he sank into you.
You let a small mewl escape your lips with every movement of his hips. His thrusts gradually increasing in pace till he was hammering into you. Pulling his length almost all the way out before slamming it back into you.
Bright blue eyes met yours, your breathing getting heavier as your back arched off the bed. Nails digging into the skin of his back as you were rocked back and forth. Your husband’s thick cock stretching you out so deliciously as it repeatedly kissed your sweet spot. The position allowing him so deep inside you that he bulged lightly in your stomach.
“Toru, nngh— so good. Ahh.” You were getting noisy. Your cute babbles mixing with the loud echoes of his skin hitting yours. The mere force of his loving making it twice as loud.
You could only moan shakily as you pulled him even closer. Drool covered lips parting in sweet cries when your nails scratched down his back. “O-oh fuck. Ahhh.”
“Taking me so well. My pretty little wifey, can’t wait to see you carrying my child again. Fuck,” He grunted, squelching noises growing louder as your sticky pussy leaked onto your thighs and his. The whole roomed filled with your lewd sounds of pleasure as you both fell into each other. “Gonna fill you up real good baby. Stuff that messy pussy so full of my cum and watch that belly swell.”
Your legs trembled at his words, your hold on him tightening as the rhythmic slapping clouded your brain. Your vision blurring with tears as your stomach tightened. Every nerve along your walls being set on fire as you were fucked like you’d disappear in any moment.
Gojo’s sinking to elbows at the sides of your head for you to cry into his broad chest when you felt yourself nearing your high. “Toruu— so good Toruu, so g-good.”
“Hmm you’re close f’me,” he groaned, your pussy holding him snug as your body shook. “Shit, gonna make you a mama of three. Gonna give it to ya so deep— f-fuckk. Look at me when you cum.” He whispered lowly, your glassy eyes peeling open to blink up at him dumbly.
“Nngh— ‘m, a-ahhh, Toru ‘m so c-close.” You couldn’t think. Your brain unable to process anything but him and the way his cock was fucking into you so good. Your thoughts blanking out as you were engulfed by an indescribable pleasure. Mouth opened in a final cry as you fell off the edge.
“That’s it. Cum f’ me baby. Make a fucking mess on my cock. There you go— just like that.” His thrusts never slowed as a high pitched scream bubbled in your throat. Your body trembling uncontrollably beneath him as you let go. Sopping pussy gushing all over him just the way he liked it. His thrusts never losing their pace as you squirted with a continuous string of moans.
Your husband’s thrusts got sloppy. Head falling into the crook of your neck as he unknowingly slowed down. His thrusts hard and deep as he moaned into your delicate skin. Finding it adorable how your little mewls began to match his pace.
“Love this pussy so fucking much. Could pump her full of my cum every fucking day. Shit— here it comes baby.” His slow thrusts synced with his words, lips capturing yours hungrily as he buried himself deep inside you. Tip sat at your cervix’s entrance when his cock twitched. Spurts after spurts of the the thick substance flooding your insides with heat.
Gojo pulled away from you, a small string of saliva connecting your lips to each other’s. You stayed clung to him like a koala to a tree. Tiredly smiling up at him when he pecked your nose. “If we keep having children every two years we’ll end up with fifty grandkids.”
He chuckled, resting his forehead against yours. “So, what are we gonna name her?”
“Her?”
“We only have girls so far baby, i don’t think it’s in my blood to have a boy.” He joked, both of you laughing as you thought of any possible truth of his words.
“I wouldn’t mind a boy,” You sighed softly, using your finger to brush away the loose strands of hair that fell over his eyes. “I think he’d look just like you.”
Gojo’s hand rested on your belly, using his thumb to rub over it softly. “I’d love either, only cause i’d know that i made them with you.”
Your heart skipped a beat. “I love you so much.”
“ And I love you more than you could ever imagine sweet girl.”
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buryustogether · 1 day
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songbird
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the ghoul x f!reader
summary: you used to be a singer in your vault - that skill comes in handy when you least expect it, and least want to use it. but who are you to say no when cooper tells you to sing for him?
wc: 5.7k
warnings: swearing, talk of murder, blood, alcohol, gun violence, sexual tension, smut, fingering, p in v sex, biting, possessive sex, possessive cooper
You had to admit - if you and your companion didn't find shelter soon, one of you was going to drop and the other wouldn't hesitate to feast on what was left.
The deserts of the Wasteland were harsh - you had known that the moment you stepped out of your vault those months ago and you had been faced with nothing but a searing sun, sand that got stuck places it shouldn't have, and creatures and fellow people alike who would risk it all simply for a quick grab at the pack on your back. But it seemed like this past week, God or Satan or whoever the fuck was controlling this shitshow of a world was in a bad mood. The heat was unbearable, even at night when the chilly winds should have weaseled their way beneath your vault suit and cooled your burning skin. Creatures mutated by the long-settled radiation were feeling the anger of the wasteland, as well, charging without warning or provocation. To top off a less than perfect week, your water supply had run out yesterday, and unless the skies opened up and released a storm of rad-infested hail upon your head, you weren't sure you would find any more before you keeled over and kicked it.
Struggling to plant your feet stable in the mounds of sand beneath you as you made your way between the shells of buildings that had once stood tall and proud, you glanced over your shoulder at your companion. Cooper was better adapted for this kind of environment than you were, what with his hardened skin and the wide brim of his hat shielding his face, but even he looked worse for wear. When he picked up his head, seeming to feel your eyes on him, you quickly averted your gaze and set your attention back on moving one foot in front of the other.
"Fuck're you lookin' at?" he said, his voice raspy as he called out through the dry air.
"Nothing," you snipped back, refusing to give him the satisfaction of facing him again. "Just wondering if I'm going to have to carry you the rest of the way, asshole."
The heat was making you both snappy - you hated it.
Your first meeting with Cooper hadn't gone smoothly. Hell, your second or third hadn't, either. You weren't exactly sure when you had fallen into a more comfortable presence around one another, but it sure as shit hadn't happened overnight. You'd been only half a day fresh from your vault when you'd seen him scavenging madly over a mess of bodies he'd dropped where they stood, searching for a number of vials kept in their pockets that he let drip into his open mouth like a fountain of youth. When you had called out a friendly hello to him, he'd nearly shot your brains out. Cooper had taken in your shocked expression - as you'd clearly never seen a ghoul before - as well as the stark blue of your vault suit and the pack over your shoulders, then promptly told you to scoot your ass back around to wherever the hell you had come from. Of course, you hadn't. You'd followed him from a distance, watching as he'd picked his way across the dusty sands until he'd wrangled you with the lasso at his hip, told you to fuck right off, and left you tied to a number of old pipes in the basement of a nearly collapsed building.
A day later, you'd tracked his footprints in the sand to a little settlement, where you hadn't ducked away quick enough to avoid his gaze. He'd threatened to blow your brains out if he caught you following him again. He'd only half-delivered on that promise when, not ten hours later, he'd planted a fist-sized hole in the skull of a raider attempting to cut your throat for the Pip-Boy affixed to your wrist.
From then on, he'd simply chosen to ignore you as you followed behind him like a lost dog, intent on staying with the biggest, baddest wolf in the yard. After a week, he'd tossed you a part of his rations. A week after that, he'd - not too gently - invited you to sit at the campfire with him when he saw you shivering beneath your thin, vault-issued blanket a good few yards away.
Somewhere along the way you'd started to talk. Started to share - at least, you had. Cooper had simply tucked his hat over his eyes and pretended not to listen while you rattled about this and that until he physically couldn't take it anymore and told you to go the fuck to sleep.
These months later, having accompanied him all this time, you didn't hesitate to call him a friend. Maybe something more, if you let the ache between your legs when you looked at him speak for you, but you knew it was a fantasy and nothing more, so you decided to stick with 'friend.'
Back in the present, you swallowed and winced when your throat barked with a bout of pain in response. You didn't think you'd make it another mile, let alone five, which was how far Cooper claimed the nearest town was. Despite the months you'd spent adapting out here to the wastelands, you were still attempting to cope with the hardships that came with it. Vault life wasn't anything like this; there was always water to drink, beds to sleep in. Cool air to bask in when it got just the slightest bit too hot. Of course, you didn't voice these complains to your companion. If you did, you had no doubt he'd tell you to shut the fuck up and deal with it.
Just as you were about to ask if you could take a short break and get away from the harsh sun beating on your back like repeated blows from a red-hot hammer, a gloved hand wrapped around your arm and held you in place. You jerked to a stop, nearly falling back on your ass as Cooper held you where you stood. You prepared a strongly-worded question as to just what he was doing before you followed his gaze downward, to where a small handful of pairs of footprints traveled perpendicular to yours. Together, you tilted your heads to the left where the foreign prints were headed, and it was there you found a small slope leading downward into what may have once been a shopping mall. From where you stood, you were able to see that the glass dome around the center of the mall had been shattered, letting out the gentle sound of music and human hollers.
You exchanged a look with Cooper, each of you sunken from the iron-fisted heat weighing you down, then slid down the sandy slope after him when he took off toward the shopping mall.
If there was one thing you had learned about Cooper since planting yourself at his side and refusing to leave, it was that he valued silence above almost everything else. You, on the other hand, had come from a talkative vault, where gossip reached every end of every chamber only an hour - at max - after anything noteworthy had happened. Your companion had once called you the biggest yap he'd ever heard, and you would have taken it for a compliment had he not told you to shove it a moment after. The two of you had been silent nearly the entire day now, save for a few venomous barks at each other, and you cleared your scratchy throat in an attempt to lighten your shitty moods.
"I used to read about shopping malls in the magazines," you said, leaning your weight backwards as the sandy slope shifted downward. "They had all kinds of stores inside."
"Thanks for the reminder," Cooper bit back, quickening his stride. "Would have fuckin' forgot without you here."
You let your eyes roll into the back of your head as you struggled to catch up to him, your boots digging into the uneven earth beneath you. "When I was a kid, a few of my friends and I would draw pictures of clothes - because, you know, we only had our suits - and then spread them across one of our rooms and pretend to shop. It was stupid, but it we made entertainment where we could."
"Now, was this before you started pretending to be Billie Holliday?"
You gave him a sideways glance. "Who's that?"
Cooper shook his head and took off ahead of you. "Jesus fuckin' Christ."
During one of your, as your companion called them, yap sessions, you had confided in him that your vault valued the arts above anything else. Since you were a child, they had encouraged you to find something you enjoyed, as long as you were able to call yourself an artist. Painting hadn't worked out too well. Writing had been a bust. But then you'd discovered singing - a way in which you were able to express yourself without actually saying how you felt. You could drape the tunes in metaphors and similes, bump the second verse from the first, and when you were done, everyone would get to their feet to applaud as if your songs were the best things they'd ever heard. Cooper hadn't expressed much interest in this, instead taking to calling you a songbird with her wings clipped when he deemed you were at your lowest and needed to be kicked while you were down.
Of course, you hadn't shown him - you would have to be long dead for that - but over the course of the few months you'd known him, you had confided in your notebook carried in your pack all the little things you'd come up with that complimented his persona. How the gold at his heels called for you with each step he took. The way his hands, encased behind leather that creaked, held a smoke so delicately you could have imagined it was you. The rasping curl of his words when he smiled while he spoke and how each word cast a spell that made you want to follow him until the sun exploded and the earth was gone.
Cooper was an enigma you couldn't help but wonder after, and every scrap of himself he tossed to you led you on like a dog on a leash.
The music and echoing sound of laughter from deep inside the shopping mall became louder as the pair of you approached, eyes scanning for snipers on the roof or guards posted at the busted-out windows. There wasn't a person in sight, only mannequins stripped of their clothing hanging out the openings and long-shredded posters clinging to broken glass. Cooper led the way inside, picking a path across the wreckage and rubble stacked haphazardly against the entrance. You felt your pulse tick up when he produced his gun from the worn holster at his side, tapping his trigger finger against the side of the firearm in time with the music winding its way down the wide corridors.
As you followed your companion through the shopping mall, you couldn't help but ogle at the numerous attractions you passed. Shops had been boarded up and torn open again, giving you a glimpse of tattered clothes still on hangers, books tipped over on shelves, pre-war machines behind display cases that were covered in two hundred years' worth of dirt and grime. Gang signs and dirty catchphrases had been spraypainted along the walls and windows in a rainbow of colors. In the center of the long aisle you were wandering, a carousel meant for children sat neglected, still fitted with cartoonish horses who had seen better days than these.
"Did you used to come to these often?" you asked as you stepped across a mannequin missing its head.
"Shut the fuck up for a minute." Cooper raised a hand to pair with his little spat, silencing you from asking any further questions. His tongue darted out between his cracked lips as he placed his steps carefully around shattered glass and wind-up toys that would declare your position to the entire mall. He led you around a few wide corners before coming to a stop behind an old escalator, motioning for you to take cover. You crouched to peer around the other side, pulling your bag strap tighter over your shoulder. You were met with a sight that made your lips part in wonder.
Made up in the center of the mall's large atrium, directly beneath where the glass dome had been broken out, a small encampment of people had established what looked like a tiny town. Tents rested just inside nearby shop windows and winking Christmas lights had been strung above their heads. Lanterns cast shadows along the faces of the camp's locals as they milled back and forth, sharing dinners, reading from books - and dancing. Booming from a solar-powered stereo was a symphony of fiddles and guitars, harmonies of trumpets and clapping in time with the beat. A woman's tinny voice came through the speakers and she reminisced about an old lover who had gotten away. As you watched the people dance and stamp their feet along with the music, you found yourself drumming your fingers along, as well.
You were so engrossed in the music that you nearly missed what Cooper had his watchful eye on; the fridge-sized container with several spigots on its sides marked with a large piece of paper that read 'Clean Water.'
You and Cooper ducked back behind the escalator.
"Bunch of fuckin' idiots," said Cooper as he pulled a red-capped round from his bandolier and loaded it into his gun's chamber. "That shit'll attract every goddamn raider and feral within the mile."
"They're just having fun," you said, unsure of why you felt so defensive of these people you didn't even know. Maybe it was because they reminded you of your fellow vault dwellers back home. There had been a dance or performance like this nearly every night.
Cooper scoffed. "Fun like this gets you killed, little lady."
Your eyes widened as you watched him pull back the hammer of his firearm. "You're not going to just go up there and start shooting, are you?" You knew for a fact that he would. You'd seen him do it before - draw his pistol and start spinning the trigger because a raider or flock of ferals had what he wanted. But this - this was something different. Before he could do anything more, you reached out and grabbed his upper arm in a grasp so tight your knuckles paled. He flashed you a dark, dangerous look from beneath the brim of his hat, but you refused to let go. "Cooper, these people are innocent. They haven't done anything to us."
"Listen here, dollface, and listen well," he said, quickly spinning you around so that your back was pressed against the escalator. He caged you in, his gun hand still in your grasp and his other arm propped against the wall beside your head. You tried your damndest to not flush when you felt his breath on you, when his hips came just inches from pressing up against yours. "If we're goin' to be carryin' on this little arrangement, you need to learn to keep that pretty mouth of yours shut when I tell you to shut it. Now, I know you vaulties think everyone and their mama is goin' to repay that silly kindness of yours, but do not be mistaken. Keep yappin' and I will drink my fill of that there water while I make you watch, and then I'll tip the rest of it onto the floor. You hear me?"
You were at a loss for words, your tongue dry and your knees beginning to feel wobbly from the lack of water and proper rest. Just when you were about to let your eyes fall back down and accept that he was going to clear out the settlement for their water, footsteps echoed past where the two of you stood. Cooper snapped around and raised his pistol, his other arm still caging you in, and aimed down the barrel at a few young men approaching the rest of the locals beneath the glass dome. Instead of yelling, instead of dropping their belongings and begging for their lives while they pissed their pants in the presence of a ghoul, the men waved and smiled friendly grins.
"No need to hide," one said, gesturing the pair of you toward the others. "Y'all are welcome to come and make yourselves cozy. The more the merrier!"
They continued on, greeted by the other locals with shouts of welcome backs and fond hugs, paying no mind to the wide eyes and parted lips of you and your companion. Breaking away from Cooper's little cage he had created with himself and the wall - as much as it pained you to - you peeked back around the escalator. The young men pointed your way, and a number of people waved in kind and beckoned you forward. You found yourself taking a few steps toward the inviting sight of fresh water and the smell of food being cooked over one of the fires when Cooper snagged you by the back of your suit's collar and pulled you back into cover.
"Where on this good green earth you think you're goin'?" he said in a hushed tone, bringing your face close to his with a commanding grip on your jaw. Another flutter of excitement, of blood rush, bubbled to life in the pit of your stomach and began to travel south, but you suppressed the urge to lean into his touch. You didn't pull away, either.
"They invited us," you said, your eyes wandering back over to the light flickering from the lanterns and fires. "It's rude to turn down an invitation."
Cooper harrumphed and released you a little harsher than necessary. "What you've got is a one-way ticket to bein' on tomorrow's menu, sweetheart," he said, tilting his head to follow your gaze and keep eye contact when you looked away. "If you've about had your fill of the real world up here topside, then be my guest. Go and let'em fatten you up. I'll pour one out for 'ya tonight."
Deciding not to wonder if he would actually pour one out for you, if you really meant that much, you scoffed and shook your head. "You know it's okay to let your guard down every once in a while. Smile, maybe? Wave back? No wonder you're so damn bitter, old man."
Cooper stared down at you, and you wondered briefly if he was considering slamming your head into the side of the escalator. Would he drag you away with him, you thought? Or would he leave you for the strangers just around the corner. After what seemed an eternity, he hummed a short little note and nodded his head toward the camp. "You want to play friends, little lady? Go ahead. See how far that gets you before I've got to turn around and put one between the eyes of a man who's not lookin' just for the sake of lookin'."
With the faintest hint of a smile, you blinked up at him. "You'd turn around for me?" you asked in a murmur.
He matched your heated gaze, dark eyes intense and flaring a torch in your belly. "I suppose you'll just have to find out one of these days."
Swallowing thick, you took a breath, then turned and led him toward the little encampment of people. Heads turned as the pair of you approached, and you found that most of them smiled. You waved to those who offered little shakes of their hands, trailed by a ghoul stalking in his own shadow and resting the crook of his palm on his pistol. You were met by a kind-faced woman near the large tank of water, and she was forced to speak loudly to be heard over the sound of the thumping music.
"You folks just get in?" she said, already fixing two bowls of stew from a large pot simmering over a fire.
You broke yourself from the staring match you were having with the pot, the same one Cooper was still stuck in. Although, he may have been watching the chickens that roamed inside a little pen nearby as he licked his lips. "Yes, ma'am," you said over the trill of the woman's singing. You so desperately wished you knew the words so you could sing along. "I hope we're not imposing."
"Not at all!" A bowl of stew was pushed into your hands, and you forced yourself to be polite and not spoon it down your throat immediately. At your side, your companion gave the rim of the bowl a lick with the tip of his tongue before tipping it to slurp up. "We pride ourselves in being an open community. We might be small, but that just means there's more to share." The tin cups of water she handed over didn't last but five seconds before she was refilling them. "Make yourselves comfortable and stay however long you like. All we ask is that you keep your weapons holstered and don't disturb the music."
You and Cooper took seats at a dining table that had been dragged over from the cafeteria, neither of you speaking much as you both wolfed down what was in the bowls in front of you. Both of your spoons went untouched, each electing instead to drink up the strangely-colored meat floating around inside. Cooper finished much faster than you, and shucked off his gloves so that he could dip his scarred finger in to collect what juices were left. When he was finished, the bowl looked as though it hadn't even been used.
Watching him with a small smile, you let up from your own bowl and said, "I'm waiting."
"For what, exactly, little lady?"
"Your apology." You lapped up the rest of your stew before politely setting your bowl inside of his. "You wanted to -" You hesitated and glanced over your shoulder to make sure no one was too close to hear you. "You know." Then you settled a rather self-satisfied smirk over your features. "And look where we are now. So I'd like my apology now."
Cooper sucked on his finger, ensuring he was getting every last morsel of the stew that he could, and your attention was pulled down to where his lips wrapped around his digit. A part of you began to imagine it was yours. He noticed you staring and grinned wide. "And you know what I'm waitin' for, darlin'?"
"What?"
"For you to walk yourself over there and get me seconds."
You rolled your eyes, but nevertheless grabbed your stacked bowls and began to make your way over to where the woman was tending to the pot. "You'd better be thinking about your apology," you called over your shoulder. When you turned back around you nearly collided into someone retreating back to their spot with their own dinner. You jerked to the side, attempting to get out of their way first, and in doing so rammed yourself into the stereo set on a table in the center of the little camp. You watched in horror, bowls clasped to your chest, as the stereo tumbled over the edge of its pedestal and fell to the floor, where it shattered into what must have been hundreds of pieces. The camp became shrouded in a tense, shocked silence as every eye in the mall turned to face you and look upon your sin.
"I..." Your voice carried through the atrium and down the corridors of the shopping mall, sounding like an isolated cry for help. "I'm so sorry. I - I didn't mean to, I really didn't. Here, I might be able to fix it." You bent down to try and gather the pieces with your free hand, and the moment you did, a number of the camp locals drew weapons to aim in your direction.
"Now," came that familiar drawl behind you as you heard a hammer lock into place. "Are we really goin' to be killin' each other over some silly radio?" asked Cooper, and you felt some of your nerves ease slightly when you felt his chest press against your back.
A man to your right hissed. "You killed him!"
You shook your head viciously. "No, no! I - I didn't kill anyone. I'm sorry, I really am."
"You killed Sterry!" a woman accused.
"Sterry?" You looked down at the broken stereo and began to scoop up the bigger pieces you could find. "I - I can fix Sterry, I swear -"
"There's no fixing Sterry," moaned the woman who had served you stew as she sunk into the closest bench, looking as though she were about to faint. "He's dead. And you've killed us all."
You glanced back at Cooper, who wielded both his pistols now, each pointed in a different direction toward locals who had drawn their weapons. He offered a shrouded look that screamed, 'Now, didn't I tell you so, sweetheart?' You took a shuddering breath and faced the woman who had served you. "What do you mean?" you asked.
The woman placed her head in her hand as if she'd already accepted her fate. It was a daunting sight, the face of a woman so cheery and joyful such a short time ago, now deflated as though someone had let out all her air. "This place," she said, gesturing vaguely to the mall around you. "It's infested." The word was so heavy you felt as though you nearly choked on it. "Infested with creatures that will tear us limb from limb now that you've ruined everything. The music! The music was what kept them away, and now that it's gone..."
As if on cue, from the darkness of one of the long-winding corridors straight ahead, there came the bone-rattling sound of a feral hissing and snapping its weathered jaw. A few of the locals scrambled back as the creature emerged from the inky blackness, arms twisted and eyes sunken so far back into its skull they looked like they were forever pointed toward the sky. It took a rushed few steps forward before Cooper's arm rotated and he put a hole between its eyes. The feral dropped to the floor, leaking dark blood that stained the tile floor.
"Stop being so dramatic, Uma," said an older gentleman who stooped at your feet to begin gathering the pieces of Sterry. You immediately dropped to your knees to help. "We've fixed Sterry before, and we'll fix him again. It won't take long. But while we do, we'll need something to drive those creatures off..."
Your stomach dropped when, as you stood to hand over the pieces of the stereo, you felt Cooper's hands - still fitted with his pistols - rest heavily on your shoulders. "Well, then, y'all folks are in luck," he drawled, and you could practically hear the smirk playing his lips as he spoke. "I've got my very own songbird right here. I'd be happy to lend her to 'ya if, say... you filled our flasks from that there tank when the time comes for us to leave."
"Cooper," you hissed through your teeth as you spun around to face him. Singing for your vault was one thing, but singing for a bunch of strangers in the middle of an infested mall while ferals stumbled from the darkness all around you? He may as well have tossed you back out into the wastes. "You are not going to fucking trade me -"
"Done," said the old man as he sat down and began to sort Sterry's pieces. "Have your girl start singing - anything her heart desires. Just long enough for me to fix old Sterry here."
Giving the man a mock salute that didn't quite raise to his brow, Cooper shoved you onto a bench so that you stood over the rest of the camp. From this angle, they were all able to see your petrified expression and your hands shaking at your sides. "You heard the man," your companion said and smacked the back of your knee. "Get to it, songbird."
"Cooper, I can't -"
Before you were able to finish, Cooper turned, his ears pricking at something yours did not pick up, and dropped another feral that had been silently stalking the camp from the other side. A few of the locals yelped in terror, fleeing into shopfronts and tents.
"Sing for me, sweetheart," Cooper said. He sent you a wink, tipped his hat, then unleashed another round of lead into the darkness which only his eyes could penetrate.
You felt as if you were going to vomit. Sweat began to form on the back of your neck as you fisted your hands and swayed slightly where you stood on the bench. Turning your head, you met the eyes of a few camp locals watching you from their hideouts, their expressions filled with fear, anger, anticipation. They were waiting. Expecting. Needing. Attempting to push down the swelling that was beginning to form in your throat, you looked down at Cooper as he emptied his pistols of empty shells before reloading in order to fend off the ferals attacking the camp - the very camp he'd wanted to take out not half an hour ago.
He'd told you to sing for him. So you'd sing. For him, and only him.
Clearing your mouth and opening your lips, you took a breath and forced yourself to sing. "Death will come from where the earth meets the sky." Your voice wobbled slightly, rusty from having not singing since you left your vault. That, along with the fear and dehydration sitting on your tongue. "The sand is scorched beneath his step, the future decided by his eye." As you sang, the miniature explosions banging from the barrels of Cooper's pistols created a short, quick beat you unconsciously began to tap your foot along to. "He'll come for you all in the end, you'll never be free... he'll come for you all, but never for me."
Ferals shrieked in response to the gunfire, to the song torn right from your notebook in your pack, and one by one, like stage performers who had practiced this dance a hundred times, they dropped at the feet of the camp.
"Death's got a girl who croons his songs, which is why he never stays for long. He's got to run back to his lady, just as harsh as he, he's coming for you, but he's running back to me." As you sang you realized your voice was getting louder, louder, swelling until it filled the mall's atrium and every corridor far beyond. You tapped your heel along with the rhythm you'd created, closing your eyes and imagining an audience of one; a ghoul with his arms slung out across the chairs beside him and a knowing smirk playing his thin lips. It pulled you forward, pulled forth a song you hadn't realized was already in you. "He might sound mean, but I swear, he's kind. He's just got to peer into these eyes of mine. I'll ride with him, and he'll follow me, leaving behind a trail of blood far as the eye can see. Oh, my baby's got teeth to bite and a gun to blow, see his smoke and soon you'll know. Death ain't my man, he's my right hand. He'll come for you all in the end, you'll never be free... he'll come for you all, but never for me."
You had just been nearing a second verse when, from where it rested before the old man on the table, the stereo jumped back to life and filled the atrium with thrumming, pulsing folk music. It drowned out your voice, silenced you like a gunshot, and the ferals teetering on the edge of the darkness leading to the rest of the mall stumbled back into their hiding places. The camp locals slowly emerged from their hiding places, chattering excitedly about Sterry and his newfound love of life. Feeling a little stupid still standing on the bench, you climbed down and shuffled away toward where you had been originally sitting.
Taking a seat, you rested your forehead on your arms and exhaled a shaky breath. What had you been thinking? Singing a song for the man you'd become hopelessly fascinated with while he was just a few feet away, battling ferals who were intent on tearing out your throat and taking your voice with it? You were such a fucking idiot. You wouldn't be surprised if he told you to never open your mouth again.
Just as promised, your flasks were filled to the brims with fresh water before you went on your way, leaving the mall atrium and the singing, dancing camp locals behind as you picked your way back outside. Neither you nor Cooper said much as you continued your trek to nowhere, leaving a pair of footprints like echoes in your wake. Your cheeks remained flushed long after the mall had disappeared into the horizon, and long after you picked out an abandoned building to set up camp for the night. For once, it wasn't from the heat.
You sat across the lantern and what light it cast from Cooper, who stared into the little beacon as if he were watching the most fascinating flick within its glass. You held your notebook in your lap, thumb marking your place as your tried to write, but nothing would come to mind save for the things you'd sung about today. Mortification stirred like a serpent in your belly, and you briefly considered excusing yourself to get up and throw up outside.
"Let me see that book you've got there."
Your head lifted at Cooper's request - more of a demand - and unconsciously tightened your grip around your notebook. Your notebook - full of songs, melodies, lyrics. The most recent half of which you had written about the ghoul staring at you. "This?" you said, your trembling voice giving way to your nerves. You forced out a chuckle and smacked it shut. "It's nothing worth looking at."
"Why not?" he said, voice rasping lower than the baritone he usually held it at. You swore his gaze was hotter than the sun during the day and the fires at night. "You got more songs 'bout little old me in there?"
Fuck, he knew. Fuck all, he knew. You felt your flush deepen as you pointedly tucked your notebook into the bottom of your pack and flipped the top shut. "I... I don't know what you're talking about," you said, avoiding his eyes. Instead you focused on the fraying tip of your boot. "I wrote that a long time ago. Back in my vault."
"Uh huh." Cooper stared you down for so long you thought that perhaps time had frozen. Then he took a barely-there breath. "Come over here, songbird. Let me get a good look at you."
For a long, long moment, you remained still as you ever had been. What was he saying? Normally the only time he let you close to him was when he invaded your personal space to deliver a shove or to smack your knee or thigh to tell you to get a move on. Your breath hitched when you finally lifted your head and found his gaze boring into yours, heavier than a ton and white hot like a branding iron.
"I ain't goin' to tell you again, pretty girl."
As if he had you on a fucking leash - because you swore he did - you found yourself pitching forward, crawling on your hands and knees toward him. He spread his legs slightly, enough to give you room to fit between them, and hesitantly, so very carefully, you rested yourself against his front. His rough, scarred hands, free of his gloves, came up to rest on the swell of your hips as if they were made to be there, fitting like puzzle pieces against your skin beneath your vault suit. You stared up at him, backlit by the lantern light, and let his thumb drag down your bottom lip until it slipped from his touch.
"Didn't think my songbird had such desire in her," Cooper chuckled, his warm breath fanning across your face.
You relished in the goosebumps that crawled over the planes of your skin. "I... I don't..."
"Oh, you'd be dead wrong if you said that little ditty you sang today wasn't all about desire." He settled back deeper where he sat, giving you more room to settle against him between the columns of his thighs. Your lower belly rested against his crotch, where you felt the hard outline of his cock straining against his trousers. Your heart skipped a beat or three. "If you wanted to ride with death, sweetheart, all you needed to do was ask."
Cooper sealed his lips to yours without word or warning, pulling a surprised little noise from the back of your throat that he swallowed up with fervor. As the initial shock faded, you found your eyes slipping shut and your mouth moving against his, lips opening without fight when his tongue demanded to explore your own. Bracing yourself with one hand against his thigh, you reached up with your other and cradled the back of his head, knocking off his hat in the process.
Swift to get a move on, to feel you against him and swallow up more of your sounds, Cooper easily flipped you around so that you were now lying flat on your back and he was hovering over your prone form. Both tingling excitement and nauseating nerves pulled groans from your lips as he moved to pressing harsh kisses and nips to the column of your neck, licking up red spots that would surely bruise come morning time. He shucked off his duster and abandoned it somewhere behind him, at the same time, by some skill you had no idea anyone possessed, also grasping at the zipper of your vault suit to pull it down as far as it would go.
It didn't take long for you to shimmy out of the suit, leaving you in just your underwear, the seams of which he traced with his calloused finger. It sent a chill running up your spine despite the heat prodding at your skin.
"My songbird sounds real pretty when she's singin'," Cooper muttered as he sucked a bruise into the swell of one breast over the cup of your bra. "I bet she sounds even better screamin' for me."
His hand plunged beneath the waistband of your panties and began to explore your folds, pulling a long, whining moan from your lips. He ate you and your whimpers up, devouring your lips like he wanted to eat you whole - maybe he did - while his middle finger ran up and down your cunt a few times before deftly finding your clit and applying a bit of pressure to the sensitive bud. You cried out. It had been far too long since you'd seen any real action. It didn't take long before your folds were soaked, and he was able to gingerly nudge his finger past the entrance of your pussy. It felt foreign to have another person thrusting their finger in and out of you, building you up to a kind of high you hadn't known since far before you left your vault. In less than a few minutes - something he would surely tease you about later - you felt that familiar coil snap in your stomach and you soaked his hand with a loud, throat-rattling wail that escaped your lips and flew right past his.
Cooper pulled back with a self-satisfied smirk and pulled his hand from your panties, lifting his spread hand to show you to slick you'd coated his digits with. You were only able to huff for breath and watch with hooded eyes as he brought his fingers to his mouth and used his skillful tongue to lick off your cum. You briefly wondered what else that tongue of his could do, what it would feel like to have him lap up your pussy like it was the only thing to guarantee him his daily hit of medicine.
"Sweet as honey, baby," he cooed, bracing himself with one hand while the other worked on the buckle of his belt. "Well. Maybe Tennessee honey. You ever had a taste of that?" He knew you hadn't. But that didn't stop his smirk from growing in size when you numbly shook your head. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about it, baby. We'll get you a lick one day. 'Til then..."
Your limbs dancing with pins and needles, you lifted your hips to help him tug off your panties. "I'll just have to settle for what I've got," you exhaled with a hazy smile.
Cooper grinned wide, a smile that bordered on the edge of dark, as he tugged down his trousers just enough for his cock to spring free. He was thick - larger than you'd expected - and his member was rough and scarred like the rest of him. It made you want to feel him all the more. "I'll promise you somethin', darlin," he said as he positioned himself at your entrance and you locked your legs around his waist, heels digging into the edge of his gun belt. "I'm better than anything else you'll taste these days." With that he slid into you, filling you at once to the brim like he just couldn't wait to feel you from the inside. A loud, sharp yelp escaped your lips as your back arched instinctively, curling yourself up into him. He only waited a few moments for you to adjust before he started moving, pulling himself out to the tip before thrusting back inside your welcoming cunt. You were able to feel each and every ridge of him, every scar, and you swore you were getting drunk from just the feeling.
"Fuckin' shit, girl," he groaned, moving to press the flat of his hand to the base of your neck so that he could keep you in place while he fucked you. "Better than I could've fuckin' dreamed."
Cooper's thrusts began to increase in speed, your moans and whimpers accompanied by his low, almost growling snarls he panted against the shell of your ear. You couldn't believe this was happening. You were being fucked by the ghoul you'd been following all these months, the ghoul you'd been watching and studying and falling hopelessly for. And it felt good. It felt so fucking good, a part of you wasn't entirely convinced this entire scenario wasn't a dream concocted by the recesses of your mind.
"God, Coop," you heard yourself moan as your nails dug crescent moons into the fabric of his shirt. "Feels so fucking good..."
"Atta girl," he muttered, moving his head down so that he could suck at the junction where your neck met your shoulder. "Such a sweet little songbird." His grip on your hips tightened as his movements increased even further. "Might just have to fuck you good every night so I can hear you sing for me."
You panted deep as you felt your second orgasm of the night approaching at an alarming rate. Your hips bucked up to meet his with each thrust, the sound of skin on skin filling the abandoned building in which you had taken shelter. "Don't have to - ah! - even ask. I'll sing for you any time, Coop."
Cooper's breaths came shorter, sharper, and it wasn't long before he came with a harsh bite against your shoulder, one that spilled blood into his awaiting mouth and pulled your own orgasm from deep within your depths. You shuddered and cried for him, tugging him close and holding him there for several minutes after your highs had faded and your breaths evened.
Finally, he pulled himself off of you. A short whine escaped you when he slipped from your heat, and he chuckled low before tossing you your panties to slip back on. When you were both covered again, you sat up and crossed your legs as you basked in the afterglow of what had just taken place. Cooper dug around in his saddlebag for a moment before producing his inhaler and drinking up a shot of his medicine, shaking his head against the sudden buzz that came with it as he sat back on his elbows and stared at the lantern light.
"I..." You struggled to find the words so desperately clawing at your chest. "I hope you don't..."
Cooper reached up and pulled your wrist out from under you, causing you to fall back on the ground beside him with an 'umph.' He let his arm cushion your fall before sweeping a few strands of hair from your face and giving you that crooked smirk which made your legs fall numb all over again. "Oh, don't you worry yourself, songbird," he said. "I ain't lettin' you fly away from me any time soon."
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lemonlover1110 · 9 hours
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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬
Satoru Gojo
[Chapter 24] The Truth
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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader
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“What are you going to do with him again?” Satoru asks as you get ready to meet up with Suguru. He talks as if he has any right to know. You’re finishing up your makeup in your room while he stands in the doorway.
“Does it concern you?” You look back at him. And he sighs before shaking his head. He guesses it doesn’t. He can’t argue with you about it, yet he stands there, leaning on the doorframe. You finish putting on your lipstick before looking back at him and raising your eyebrows, “Aren’t you going to Ren? He’s waiting for you to talk about his birthday plans.”
“Right…” Satoru answers, turning around and going to Ren. He finally leaves you alone with your thoughts, finally not having to listen to his stupid comments. As much as you don’t enjoy his presence at the moment, you still have to tolerate him because of your son.
Slowly you are seeing his point of view, but that doesn’t mean you forgive him. Satoru was young, easy to manipulate– Well, you aren’t exactly focused on his age but more about the fact that Satoru was recently grieving the loss of his father and in a way felt threatened that he would lose everything simply for not following orders. What hurts you the most right now is that he didn’t even try to explain the situation to you, he assumed you were better off going your own separate ways.
“Mommy!” Ren comes running into your room, disrupting the peace that you were just granted. You look at the puppy eyes that adorn his face, and you already know he wants something. You allow him to speak first, not wanting to accuse him of something that he might not even do. But you’re proven right, “Can I get a puppy for my birthday?”
“Remind me how old you’re turning, Ren.” You tell him, and Ren holds up five fingers, a grin on his face as he shows off his big age. You fight back a smile, trying your best to remain as serious as you can possibly be. You won’t be easily convinced by him. “Five. Such a big age, right? But not enough to take care of a puppy, plus you’re starting school soon.”
“School?” Ren asks as if it’s the first time he hears of it. You’ve been preparing for him, telling him about it daily.
“You know, the place where you’ll be going to learn and make friends for the next thirteen or so years of your life.” You answer, and his mouth turns into a circle when he remembers. “Who’s going to take care of the puppy then? I still have to work.”
“Granny.” Ren answers, and you chuckle as you shake your head. Your mother isn’t exactly a big pet person, if you were to give her the responsibility of taking care of a puppy, she might just kill you. He puts his hands together and begs, “Please, mommy, please! I want a puppy!”
“Ren, we both know that–” You begin, but you realize you’re just wasting your breath. You look at the time, realizing that if you don’t finish up soon, you’ll be late. “Talk to your father about it, I have to finish getting ready.”
“Daddy!” Ren yells as he walks out of your bedroom. Maybe you made a mistake since Satoru loves to spoil Ren, and Satoru doesn’t like to think of additional responsibilities since he’s not the one that’s at Ren’s side at all times.
You’ll deal with it when Satoru attempts to get Ren a puppy, for now you’re going to focus on your own problems. Your own problem being your meeting with Suguru.
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You wait for Suguru at the café near your apartment. You have a beverage in your hand, taking an occasional sip, making sure you don’t finish it before Suguru finally decides to show up. Your eyes are glued to the door, waiting for him to finally make his grand entrance. 
You feel the nerves creeping through all of a sudden, and you have no idea why. Maybe it’s because you lied to him about Satoru, or maybe it’s because you’ve been avoiding his calls. You take a deep breath to calm your nerves, looking at the time. If he doesn’t get here within five minutes, you’ll leave. He’s running late, and you have no intention of waiting for him all day.
In reality, you’re just looking for an excuse to leave. You want to avoid this confrontation as much as you can, but you know you have to face him eventually. Suguru has been one of Satoru’s closest friends, and you were close to dating, the least you can do is give him one last conversation. You can’t avoid him forever.
Your eyes shift back and forth between the time and the door, mentally praying that he doesn’t show up. However, your prayers go unanswered when he walks through the door, his eyes immediately landing on you. He gives you a soft smile as he approaches your table.
“Hi, Suguru.” You try to return his smile, but it looks awkward. Suguru points at the counter, telling you that he’s going to get his beverage before sitting down with you, to which you nod in response. You take another deep breath, trying to calm yourself. He looks fine, and you hate to ruin his day– Perhaps he won’t care, but you doubt it. You told him a very serious lie about his best friend, you doubt he’ll be too happy with you after finding out.
“It’s so nice to see you after… So long.” Suguru sits across from you. You shift in your seat, adjusting your posture before focusing on him. You nod with an awkward smile on your face. At that moment you know, this is going to be a long hour.
“It is.” You agree before a long awkward pause ensues. You clear your throat, about to ask him how he’s been holding up, but Suguru has other plans when he speaks up before you,
“Why have you been avoiding me?” He goes straight to the point. There’s a reason why you two are there, and it isn’t for small talk. Maybe you can get to more fun matters later or another day, but not right now. 
“I’ve just been busy with Satoru and figuring out this whole parent thing, that…” You begin with an excuse but you can’t finish the sentence. You bite down your lip before you take a deep breath. You have to say it, if you keep dragging it you’ll feel worse. “I partially lied to you. Satoru never suggested an abortion at the thought of me being pregnant, I didn’t tell him because he didn’t give me the chance to, and then I couldn’t tell him because… His mother didn’t want him to know.”
And he chuckles. Suguru lets out a laugh, which makes you furrow your brows. You expected many different reactions, but not a laugh. You chew on the inside of your cheek, anxiously waiting for him to say something else.
“Is that why you haven’t been answering my calls?” Suguru asks, and you hum in response even though it’s not all. He lets out another laugh, and you want to ask why he laughs but you decide against it. You wait for him to finally say something else, although time feels as if it slows down. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”
“Huh? What do you mean?” You sound utterly confused. What the hell is he talking about? How would Suguru know?
“I knew. I asked Satoru what he would’ve done if you had gotten pregnant and he said he would’ve stayed by your side.” He answers, and you let out a sigh of relief knowing that the situation won’t be the big mess that you were expecting. You do still feel guilty about it. “I mean sure… Satoru could’ve lied to me, but I don’t think he would have.”
“Why didn’t you say anything about it?” You’re curious as to why he decided to remain silent about this of all things. It’s a serious matter, which you would’ve expected him to furiously call you to berate you about. But you guess the man that sits across from you isn’t that type of person.
“You lied to me to protect your ass, and I can’t really blame you for it.” He shrugs, and he could’ve left it at that and it would’ve ended up perfectly fine. The conversation could’ve ended there and you would switch the topic and talk about more lighthearted stuff. But Suguru makes sure to add, “Plus Satoru also lied to you so you’re even, I guess.”
“Do you know?” You question, wondering why he brings up the fact that Satoru lied to you as well. You watch his cheeks turn pink when he realizes his words.
“Know what?” He stutters, which says all you need to know. He knows. For how long has he known? He realizes immediately that he’s messed up. He gave himself away.
“For how long have you known?” You immediately ask, and Suguru tries to play dumb, he claims he doesn’t know what you’re talking about, making a fool of himself. You’re clearly mad, but you try to not let it show through your tone. You try to take deep breaths.
“You can say we’re kind of even…” Suguru scratches the back of his head, but that’s not enough. You’re not even because the situation with Ren had nothing to do with him, at least in your eyes. Yes, you lied to him, but it was your business, something that had nothing to do with him.
“Does Shoko know too?” You scoff, and it’s merely a joke, but Suguru bites down his lip before commenting,
“I mean, considering the fact that she’s sleeping with his wife, probably.” Which makes your eyes widen. It’s shocking, but it makes a lot of sense. You’re still speechless. “Satoru told me… A while ago.”
“I guess we’re even then.” You let out a chuckle, but it’s not humorous. You’re clearly… Annoyed. “But I think… I had different plans for us, and so did you. But we should remain as friends.”
“Huh? What do you mean?” He asks, confused why you say that. He knows you’re mad, but what you’re making is a rash decision. “You don’t mean what you’re saying, you’re just upset because–”
“No, I know what I’m saying. Suguru, I lied to you so I guess I shouldn’t be too mad but I am. And I lied to you about Satoru, and… We shouldn’t be together, I feel like we started this off wrong.” You respond, and it almost hurts to say. 
“But we can start over again without lies and–” He begins, and you cut him off.
“Let’s try to give it some time before even thinking about that. I’m not really in the right headspace for a relationship.” You answer truthfully, and he furrows his brows. He doesn’t know why, but that ticks him off.
“I bet you’ll end up choosing Satoru again.” He sounds bitter, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. Of course he says that, he assumes you’re so in love with Satoru that you can’t have a relationship with him. Suguru thinks too mighty of himself. “Explains why you so adamantly ignored my calls, and why you were on vacation with him–”
“I have a son with him, Suguru. Of course I’m going to do shit with him.” You interrupt him, standing up from your seat. He has his arms crossed, looking almost like a pouty child because he isn’t getting his way. He almost reminds you of Satoru. “I told you we should give it time before we even begin to think about it. Don’t make your case worse.”
He keeps silent while you walk away, deciding that you’re right. He isn’t going to make his case worse. 
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“How did it go?” Satoru seems as if he has been waiting by the door for you the entire time. 
“He knew?” You immediately ask, and he nods in response which makes you roll your eyes. “Everyone knows shit except me.”
“I can say the same about Ren.” Satoru argues, which is a great point, but you won’t admit it. You hand him your purse, as if he were your own little butler, and he proceeds to take it to your room.
“Where’s Ren?” You half-yell, and the man shushes you, which earns a weird look from you. There’s no way he actually got Ren to fall asleep… But for what other reason would Satoru shush you?
“He’s asleep.” Satoru informs you when he walks back, and you want to question what kind of sorcery the man is doing to make a boy that hates taking naps, fall asleep. You do appreciate it though, so you won’t complain.
You two awkwardly stand around, not sure what to speak about next since Ren is asleep. There’s something that comes to mind, but you’re not sure how appropriate the question is. Ren is asleep, so there shouldn’t be an issue, however, you don’t want to overstep any boundaries.
You still clear your throat though, “Did you know that Shoko was–”
“I know.” Satoru chuckles. “Right when we got back, Shoko dug her claws into her– Or Sayo did.”
“Were you upset when you found out? I mean, when we first saw each other again you called her love.” You bring up, walking over to the couch to take a seat, and he follows behind. Satoru takes a moment to think, and properly formulate his answer. He sighs before speaking up,
“I guess, for a moment I thought I loved her. I’m very fond of her, and I confused my adoration for her as love. She knew what I was going through, and she was always sweet to me, we could make each other laugh. Overall, we got along.” He explains, and you listen attentively. You’ll do anything to gain a little bit of perspective into his mind. “We just had each other, and that was that. But then you came into my life, and I remembered what love felt like.”
You feel your face get warm, and you look away from him. Maybe Suguru is right– You can’t let him be right. Satoru still committed a lot of bad actions. 
You stay silent and let a minute pass before speaking up again, changing the topic, “It’s not just Ren’s birthday coming up, but also yours. What would you like?”
“I already have everything I could ever want.” Satoru answers, which makes your task slightly more difficult. You’re still going to get him something for his birthday, even if it’s just a pair of socks. “How about Ren? I heard he wants a puppy.”
“He’s not getting one. Nope.” You tell him, and he laughs before nodding in response. You’re not sure he’s gotten the message yet, but you’ll make sure to remind him.
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bountydroid · 2 days
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Darlin' pt 4
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pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 /
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (Slowburn romance)
Description: Reader realizes her growing feelings for her traveling companion in Filly.
Notes: Okay, so I am SO proud of this part. Please let me know what you guys think. 
TW: Kinda angsty at the end.
"Find somethin' to do," Cooper says as he makes himself comfortable on a chair, watching the store across from him carefully. 
I huffed and crossed my arms before looking around. "A new shirt would be nice." I thought to myself as I looked down at my mud-covered clothing.
"You got any extra caps?" I asked, leaning up against the side of his chair.
"No." He responds shortly. 
I hummed in response. Just as I started to walk away I felt him grab my wrist, "Don't get into any trouble darlin'." He said, smirking, "Wouldn't want a repeat of last time. You'll scare away my target." 
Embarrassment crept up into my cheeks, "I'll be good." I mumbled. I was not sure If I was telling that to myself or him. Probably both to be honest, but it seemed to satisfy him as he let go of my arm. The last thing I wanted to do was mess up this job for him. He was finally warming up to me, and the idea of ruining that ate at the back of my mind.
Filly was an interesting town. It was packed to the brim with fiends and travelers alike. I couldn't help the nervousness that settled in my stomach as I got farther and farther away from my newfound companion. I felt safe with him, safer than I have ever felt in my life. Most people would think that strange. Safe with a ghoul? I thought back to the man who called me a freak for being with the ghoul as I blushed. He thought we were together. A couple. Butterflies found their way into my stomach as I thought about the possibility. Romance was something that I never thought I would experience beyond the tattered books my brother got me from a wandering trader.
"Stop being stupid, Y/n. He doesn't want you." I thought to myself.
Without any caps, I decided to find a place to sit and lay low. I was determined to stay out of trouble, so I found a nice tree to sit up against while I watched all the people go by. I found watching all the different kinds of people walk through extremely interesting. All different types of hair colors, hairstyles, clothing, and weapons. Not to mention odd couples, siblings, and partners. All the new experiences were overwhelming. I found myself sitting there watching for longer than expected. After I had my fill, I got up from the tree and started heading back to Cooper. 
"Right where I left you," I said to myself as his sitting form became clear. He had his hat covering most of his face, I assumed it was to avoid detection. The last town made it very clear that ghouls were not welcome.
As I made my over to him I saw his head tilt and his eyes peer up at me from under his hat. I smiled at him, "No trouble here."
He snorted in response as his eyes flickered over to the men wrestling each other across the way. "You might be the only one darlin'."
I leaned up against his chair again, letting some weight off of my feet. "My feet are-" I start to say before a person caught my eye. Her unique outfit and soft hair made her stand out from the rest of the crowd. 
"A vaultie," Cooper responds, anticipating my question before it even forms.
"Those are real?" I gasp before leaning forward, wanting to get closer to her. 
"Yeah, they are real." Cooper sighed as his hand shot back up to my arm. "Don't talk to her."
I frown but I keep quiet as I continue to watch her. He then kicked my foot gently to draw my attention back to him. "I mean it, darlin'."
"Fine," I say sighing as she disappears into the shop across the way. I felt sadness creep into my stomach as his hand dropped down to his lap and went back to fiddling with an empty Radaway bottle. The butterflies from earlier returned as I thought about his touch. I bit my lip as I stared up at the sky.
"What has gotten into me?" I thought to myself.
We stayed there in silence for some time before a man and a dog came into town, making his way to the same shop the vaultie was in. I recognized him from the drawing. It was the bounty. I shifted in anticipation as he started making conversation with the vaultie at the front door.
"So now what?" I whispered, excitement laced in my voice. 
"Now... you find somewhere to hide," Cooper said back. "And you don't come out till' I say so, got it?"
I frowned, confused. "Hide?" 
"They ain't gonna let me just take him, darlin'." He responded, shifting in his seat as he readied for action.
The implication was clear. There was going to be another shootout. Not only was I unarmed, but I was unfamiliar with weapons altogether. Hiding was definitely the best course of action for me. 
"Right," I said as I looked around before making my way behind one of the buildings.
Once I was finally out of view I heard Cooper's familiar voice, "Whilzig!" He shouted.
I peeked around the corner to see him walking up to the bounty. At this point, they were too far away for me to hear. I could tell that the people of the town now saw him for what he was as all eyes were on him, a ghoul. "That is a lot of people." I thought to myself. I was starting to worry.
"Now last night a bounty came in through all six agencies!" He shouted again. 
I whipped back around and pressed myself to the building taking deep breaths as I tried to tamp down the panic in my chest. Once the first gunshot rang out I could hear the townspeople scrambling. "Maybe no one will give him any trouble?" I thought to myself. I was being naive again, but I didn't care.
"I got a thousand bottle caps for whoever kills that fucker!" I heard a woman scream out. "But you don't get shit if I kill him first."
"Shit," I whispered. I took one last deep breath before I peeked back around the building. I watched as Cooper moved in a circle, taking count of all the men lining up to fight for those caps. Our eyes met for a moment. While my eyes were filled with fear, his eyes were filled with confidence. He gave me a small smirk before continuing to circle around, waiting for someone to be brave enough to take a shot. 
Once the shots started, all hell broke loose. I could hear wood breaking and bodies being thrown. Some of the ammunition even made its way through the buildings and out the other side. 
In defense, I curled up in a ball on the ground. I was so worried about him that I didn't even realize that I could be shot too.
When there was a brief pause in gunfire, I fought the temptation to look out again. "Don't come out till I say so." His words echoed in my head.
As the shots started up again, I felt something pierce my arm. I fought the urge to shout in pain as tears started to run down my face. One of the men's shots went through the building and into my arm. I look down to see a nail and some wood splinters sticking out of me. 
"Fuck." I whimpered as I cradled the wound trying to take deep breaths.
As I did my best to steady my breathing I heard a robotic voice say, "She said stand down ghoul."
I look around the corner to see a knight making his way towards Cooper, "Knight Titus of the Brotherhood of Steel. Stand down, or be cut down."
I couldn't hear Cooper's response, but I saw a look of disbelief and amusement on his face. 
"Just do what he says, please," I whisper to myself. "Cooper." Just as I finish saying his name he lifts his gun at the girl and the knight makes a run towards her, jumping in front of her to take the bullet. 
I squeeze my teary eyes together as I turn back around. If Cooper was going to be killed by this knight. I didn't want to see it. 
Gunshots rang out again, this time it was just Cooper and the knight. To distract myself I looked back down at my arm, still bleeding. I had no idea what to do so I decided to pull the nail out. I took a deep breath in anticipation before giving it a good, hard yank. I couldn't help the loud cry that escaped my mouth. At the same time, I heard a body fly into some wood nearby. "It's not Cooper, it's not Cooper," I repeated over and over again as I fussed over my arm. 
"Well, I'd say come up here and get me, but it's hard to walk upstairs while wearing a 12-piece cast-iron skillet set." Cooper chuckled.
Relief flooded my body when I heard his voice. The sudden sounds of bullets, explosions, and crashing filled my ears. I closed my eyes tight as I waited for it all to stop.
Eventually, I heard the knight flying overheard, clearly having lost control of his suit. It was over. 
"Y/n?" I heard Cooper yell out. 
I unsteadily got up on my feet and shuffled out from behind the building, still cradling my arm. "I am here."
As his eyes raked me over and stopped at my arm a look of concern washed over his face. He jogged over to take a closer look.
"I'm okay." I try and convince him as he gently touches my wound. 
"Those crocodile tears suggest otherwise, sugar." Cooper responds, giving me a small smile. "Let's find you a stimpack."
I nod my head as he wraps his arm protectively around me and guides me towards the shop. He only lets go when we reach the dog, wounded and whining on the ground. He gently picks it up and brings it into the shop with us. After putting the dog down on the table, he starts to rummage through the junk in the shop. 
"There's gotta be one around here somewhere." He mumbles. 
Between sniffles I say, "When you find one, give it to the dog."
He lets out a small chuckle as he finally finds what he's looking for. "Well lucky for us I found two."
"And the bounty?" I ask as he makes his way towards me.
"Ah, I'll get him," Cooper says, brushing off my concerns before he quickly stabs me with the needle.
"Ouch!" I whine as he rubs my arm while shushing me.
"You are okay, Darlin'." He coos.
"The dog-" I start.
"I got the dog." Cooper interrupts before giving the dog the other stimpack, petting his head gently. A smile erupts across his face as the dog pops up, immediately feeling better. "There."
I smile wide as I watch him with the dog. "You like dogs."
He looks over at me still smiling as his eyes flicker over to my arm. The wound was healed and I am no longer cradling it, the pain completely gone. "Feelin' better?" He asked, already knowing the answer.
All the feelings I had experienced during the shootout came flooding back to me as my smile faded. I felt overwhelmed with sadness, fear, and relief. "I-" I started as tears filled my eyes. 
"I was so worried about you!" I cried out as I ran towards him and wrapped my arms around him. 
Faster than it took to wrap my arms around him, I felt him rip me off. He dug his fingers into my shoulders as he held me at arm's length, shaking me gently. "Don't." He said sternly.
Embarrassment washed over me as I stared down at my feet. "I-"
"Just, don't." He interrupted, sighing before releasing me. "We will wait here until nightfall and then we'll follow Whilzig's trail. See if you can find anything useful around here while we wait."
"Okay," I whispered in response before shuffling to the other end of the store. The rejection stung so deeply that I could barely focus on what I was looking at. Right when he started to warm up to me, I ruined it.
tag list: @msrawog @valdemarismynonbinarylove @topiramateagreeable @whizbang-cap @sitkafay
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sweetnsour1 · 2 days
Text
10:53:01
Fluff, Bakugou x fem reader
Part 1 of 2
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“You’re kidding.”  
“Why would I be kidding?” His tone had shifted. You could hear his brows and eyes furrowing at the strangled laugh you had shakily exhaled. 
“How did you find out?” He had to be fucking with you. 
“Um, the mission briefing...like usual?”  
“What?” Shit, so he wasn’t fucking with you. You blinked away tears of frustration already threatening to leak into your voice. Stupid. 
“Huh?”  
“So, you’re really leaving?”  
“Have to, beautiful.”  
“But...” 
“Yea, I know. I’ll miss you too.” His tone was getting softer with every awkward response you choked out. 
“No, I mean...” You let the words trail off. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d forgotten the meaning behind this quickly approaching date. Your brain couldn’t even craft a way to bring it up without whining. You couldn’t do it. “Just be safe, okay?” 
“The hell do ya think I am? I’m always safe.” 
“Safer than your version of safe, please.” Your tone was firm as it delivered the familiar words, a ritual every time he left for a mission.
The memory of the first time you’d made the request came to you easily. He was in the doorway of your office, backing out, bumping his wide shoulders into the frame as he failed to smoothly exit. Red spread across the skin directly below his mask. You had thought you had overstepped, maybe he was upset that you questioned his performance. Your head had tiled to the side in confusion when instead he only said, “Yes, ma’am.” He landed a smack against the head of the blonde hero snickering behind him as he walked off, mumbling something about shutting up.  
“Mmm.” You smiled. Maybe he was thinking of that day too.  
“‘Mmm’ isn’t a promise.” 
“I’ll be back before Saturday. Promise.” 
“Back with all the parts you left with.” 
“Ya gonna’ love me less if I don’t?” His words were obviously being spoken through a smile now, or a smirk more likely. 
“Depends on what you lose.” A part of you melts at the chuckle let loose in your ear.  
“Bullshit.” 
“Mhmm.” You’re quick to agree but want to hear him laugh again. “If you come back hurt, I’ll just kick your ass for not listening to me.” 
‘What if I come back without an ass?” His laugh is cut short as you hear a familiar voice inform him how that would be highly unlikely to count as coming back safe. The tone on the other end gets harsher as he tells the man with him to mind his damn business. You roll your eyes at the familiar sounds of bickering bubbling between the two heroes. You pull Katsuki’s attention back to you as you catch the sound of Deku’s mediating attempts only pacifying Todoroki.  
“Don’t you have a flight to catch?” 
“Yea.” You quirk an eyebrow at the leftover hostility worming its way into his conversation with you. He hears it too, coughing back to a gentler version before he continues. “I’ll see you Saturday, beautiful.” 
“See you Saturday.” Your words fall forward in a mumble towards the screen already reminding you that you’d ended the call. Fuck. Fuck. 
“Fuck.” 
You rolled your head forward; thankful it was still early enough in the day to start making all the calls you’d need to. You did a few of those dumb square breaths that your therapist swore by. It was annoying that it helped. A feline reminiscent stretch was the only other action you took before opening the most frequently used document saved on your phone. The twinge of regret at the sight of the bright orange header was promptly shoved aside as you began scrolling down to the vendors’ contact info. By the third call, you had quite a script ready to go as soon as someone picked up: Hello, sorry to bother you right before closing. I actually have you guys booked for the event tomorrow night. There’s been a change of plans and I would like you to deliver the (whatever they were in charge of) to (whatever organization could use it) as a donation instead of delivering anything to the venue. After that, it was always a short confirmation of details before you dialed the next number on the list.  
The biggest loss was the venue...no, that was wrong. The biggest loss was not being able to get Bakugou’s birthday right AGAIN. You really weren’t sure anymore if the blame was with you or the universe or maybe Bakugou was a villain whose only agenda was to thwart your birthday attempts. Well, you were pretty sure it was you, but it was way past ridiculous at this point. His birthday had been a disaster or disaster adjacent every year since you’d started dating.  
There was the first one where you got flustered when he had the audacity to go for the first kiss, getting you flustered enough to drop his gift, a very not waterproof limited edition and vintage All Might card, off the bridge and into the river. The next involved a mistake where you accidentally had Kirishima drop him off at the wrong address...not realizing there were two locations for the restaurant you two had your first date at. The one after, you ended up hospitalized for just a few days, missing his birthday completely because your dumb ass didn’t wake up in time. Although he technically had spent it with you, you just weren’t conscious. You both had work the one after that, so not really your fault on that one. But you did forget his present at the office and so ended up giving it to him the day after, so that part was your fault. 
He was always annoyingly understanding about the trouble you ended up causing on the one day every year that you wanted to be the least troublesome. He would just laugh it off, thanking you for an unforgettable day. He’d call you cute or sweet or a menace. He’d say his birthday wasn’t anything to stress about.  
His words would be so much easier to accept if he didn’t seem to feel differently when it came to your birthday. He never gave a gift late or damaged or less than perfect. He never messed up the date or time or location. He never forgot any part of his plans or goals for the day. It was always irritatingly more than what you would’ve imagined or expected. Not that birthdays were a contest, but...if they were, you were fucking losing badly.  
You slid your phone further across the counter after your last call. This was supposed to be the year you got it right. You’d even enlisted a dangerous amount of help for a surprise party: Kirishima to keep Bakugou from finding out, the head assistant at their agency to get the scheduling information just right, Mina was charged with the guest list, Kaminari and Sero were assigned the entertainment (with final approval from you after a near x-rated disaster). You even had Midoriya help you decide on a present.  
Everything was finally going to be perfect. You were so determined. You had even stupidly begun to feel safe in your victory. The party was supposed to be tomorrow. And now, he wouldn’t be back for nine days. Fuck. Fuck.  
“Fuck.” 
You pawed at your phone again, sending a quick text to Mina so she could notify the guests of the cancellation. You were already exhausted from the last half hour of calls and just wanted to crawl into the bed that was now dumber and colder and emptier than it was supposed to be. Before burrowing, you sent “code yellow” to the One Brain Cell group chat, following the ridiculous list of emergency code phrases made up by Kaminari. You didn’t think you’d end up using them, but here you were.  
You then finally set your phone aside for real, pretending to set the urge to sulk along with it. This was part of the job. He was needed and that was a priority...helping people should come first (and it always did). Even if a selfish part of you, that seemed to get louder every time he was called away, wanted nothing more than to convince him to stay. The man you were in love with wouldn’t just give up his purpose or his morals like that. Not even for you. It was admirable. As a hero, you loved and respected that. As his girlfriend, it made you feel more jealous and selfish than you would ever admit.  
You would just have to not suck next year.  
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Inspired by the request sent in by @mentallyablaze-writes
Masterlist
Part 2 coming soon
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sannie4luv · 2 days
Text
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Always So Pretty For Me
Pairings: Choi San x f!reader
Warnings: m & f masturbation, phone sex, praise kink, voice kink
Word count: 1.4k
A/N: so I have NOT been able to stop thinking about san being like this and I desperately just want to be his pretty girl and be talked through it by him, I literally wrote this in less than an hour so be nice to me :(, I need him so bad it’s not even funny anymore. Also not proof read so ignore the mistakes :p
With San being on tour, In different cities, Different time zones. You always felt yourself get lonely, not only emotionally, but physically as well. And right now you needed him more than you felt like you ever had in your life. When he would be on breaks from tour or schedules, he always made it a point to satisfy you in all the ways he knew how. Truly he knew your body better than you did. He knew how to make you feel good in the best ways, knew how to touch you so you were ruined for anyone else who tried to, yourself being included.
Here you were sat up in your bed with a sticky feeling between your thighs, one that you knew only San could satisfy. The only problem was, he was thousands of miles away on the other side of the world at this point. It was late at night, around 3am when you decided to go through all your old videos with him. Some of him being sweet and funny, others of him nestled so nicely between your thighs and eating you out like it was his last meal.
One of your favorite attributes about San was he would always talk you through it, knowing you got off on him talking so sweetly to you and praising you like you were the other thing that mattered to him most in the world. “You’re always such a good girl for me Angel, always make the prettiest sounds for me. God I could listen to you moan my name on repeat all fucking day baby, you make me so fucking crazy.” You heard the San in the video say, not doing anything to help the problem between your legs. You gently started touching your hardened nipples through your shirt similar to how he would, but it never felt like he did it. Truly Choi San had ruined you for anyone else.
You touched all over your body softly, eventually leading you to the place where you needed to be touched the most. Still listening to the filthy things that was coming out of Sans mouth on the video, which only spurred you on more. “You gonna cum all over my face angel? Huh? Can you do that for me baby? I know you can because you’re my good girl right? Yeah that’s it baby… that’s it… that’s my pretty girl.” He had said as you came all over his face and fingers in the video. At that point you had decided you couldn’t take it anymore and you needed to call him, just to hear him talk in that deep sultry voice of his.
It doesn’t take San long to pick up, it was the middle of the day for him and thankfully had an off day and was just resting in the hotel, what you didn’t know is he was doing the exact same thing you were. Laid up in bed watching old videos of you too that resulted in a hard Bulge in his pants and nothing but his hand to satisfy it, but he wouldn’t tell you that. “Hey angel, it’s late there no? Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” He said as he gently palmed the bulge in his pants trying to get it to go down.
“I need you Sannie…” you whimpered out and this made san shoot up in his bed and make his cock even harder than it already was. “You need me baby? What do you need princess?” San had said which only caused you to throw your head back with a soft moan, still touching yourself and feeling unsatisfied because it just wasn’t him doing it. “Need you to touch me… it never feels as good when I do it, I want you to come home..” You moaned out and began to rub yourself faster through your panties. This made San bite his lip and palm his dick a little harder. God if he could he would hop on a flight home and take care of you like you needed to be.
“I want to come home too princess, I’ll be home soon you know that. And I’ll take care of you so well when I do baby, are you touching yourself right now angel?” San said as he slipped his hands in his sweatpants and touched himself through his boxers, letting out a light grunt as the layers got thinner and thinner. “Yes… I couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t stop thinking about you baby, it doesn’t feel as good when I do it…” you moan out as you moved your panties to the side to finally relieve yourself the way you needed.
“You miss me Angel? I miss you too, was laying here watching old videos of us and came across one of you on your knees with my cock in your mouth. God I wish you were here baby. I wouldn’t be able to take my hands off you.” San said as he finally slipped his hands in his boxers and slowly started pumping his cock up and down. “Rub yourself for me baby, you’re always such a good girl for me. You can do that for me right?” San said as his hand picked up the pace a bit and bit down deeply on his lip, surely he would draw blood to it soon but he didn’t care.
“Ugh fuck San.. it feels so good.” You said as you ran soft circles around your clit, pretty much just getting off on his voice alone. “Slip your pretty fingers inside for me baby, let me hear how much you miss me. God I can’t fucking wait to ruin you when I get home I swear this tour is torturing me with blue balls.” San said as he gripped his cock tighter and went faster. “Wish they were your fingers Sannie… you always fill me up so well.” You said as you pumped your fingers inside yourself trying to match the pace of him pumping his own cock that you heard in the background. You definitely weren’t gonna last long at all, you were already so close.
“Mmm I know Angel, don’t worry it’ll be my fingers soon, but for now I just need you to go faster.. fuck princess I’m not gonna last, always sound so pretty for me when you moan like that.” San said as he felt his high approaching, but he wouldn’t let himself cum until you did first. “Fuck San I’m gonna cum…” you whimpered out as you fucked yourself with your fingers faster, not wanting to cum until he told you to.
“Cum for me princess” just as he said that the knot in your stomach had snapped and you threw your head back with a high pitched moan. Not noticing how you just soaked the fuck out of your sheets. “Fuck that’s it baby… that’s my good girl, always listen to me so well.” San said with a grunt and a shudder as he came all over his stomach. God he wished that it was inside you instead. He always loved watching it drip out of you.
“Show me the mess you made princess, I wanna see what I’m coming home to.” San said as he reached over and grabbed a tissue to wipe his hand clean of the evidence of him cumming from phone sex like a horny teenager. Even though you were on the verge of falling asleep you did as he said and you could hear him moan through the phone, almost convinced he was wanting to go round two. “Fuck baby… you’re such a good girl. Can’t wait to come home and take care of you the way you deserve.” San said as he himself snapped a quick pic of the cum sitting on his stomach, shooting a text a long with it that read “wish it was inside you instead.”
This made you bite your lip and throw your head back, damning your tiredness because if you weren’t on the brink of passing out you would absolutely go round 2 with him. “Miss you so much Sannie…” you said as you felt your eyes grow heavy. San knew you were gonna fall asleep any minute now. “I miss you too angel, get some rest and call me when you wake up. I promise I’ll be home soon before you know it pretty girl, I love you more than anything.” You had let out a soft “I love you too…” before your tiredness got the best of you, and just like that all San could hear was your soft snores through the phone, knowing that it was only him that could bring you that much safety and comfort.
God he really needed to get the fuck home.
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madaqueue · 3 days
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then beg
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pairing: suguru geto x f!reader
a/n: BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK srry guys idk what came over me when i was writing this (i need him so bad)
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you aren’t sure how much longer you can hold out, your teeth biting down into your lower lip so hard you could nearly taste blood.
“c’mon now, sweetheart, just one little word and this’ll all be over,” your boyfriend purrs above you, his black hair cascading over his shoulders and tickling your bare skin.
you shake your head no, grasping onto any remaining pieces of resolve, collecting the shreds of your determination, to last just one more minute - that’s all you need, you try to reassure yourself.
truthfully, you never thought you’d be the one in this position - after all, it was you who originally made the bet with suguru.
you had put up with enough of his teasing, enough of being called ‘needy’ for just wanting to kiss him, and today you decided to stand up for yourself.
when he walked into your apartment, he just looked so perfect in his work clothes, his dress shirt rolled up above his elbows, his bangs falling across his forehead, how could you not want to fuck him on the spot?
“you’re so sweet when you’re all desperate like this,” he chuckles as you paw at his belt before he even has a chance to get his shoes off.
“suguru, i’m not that desperate,” you huff, stepping back and crossing your arms over your chest in defiance.
"oh yeah?" he tilts his head in amusement. "you couldn’t even wait ten minutes from when i got home, you needed me to fuck you so bad.”
“yeah. and you know what? i’ll prove it,” you state confidently. “ten minutes. i bet you i can go ten minutes without you fucking me.” 
“you’ve got yourself a deal, angel,” he smirks, slowly waltzing over to you. his hands meet your waist, his touch sending shockwaves through you as his palms kneed the soft flesh of your ass.
“d-deal,” you stammer, conviction beginning to waver as he leans over, placing wet kisses along your neck.
and now, it’s been nine minutes of geto cruelly teasing you, bringing you to the brink of your release before pulling back.
he rubs his cock over your slick folds, the pressure driving you insane as you rut your hips up off the bed, craving anything more he’s willing to give you.
but, of course, he was not going to lose so easily.
“you poor needy thing,” he coos, watching you writhe in agony below him. “i told you, all you have to do is say ‘please’ and i’ll fuck you.”
it was becoming too much, the constant taunting and temptation overwhelming you. your body felt like it was on fire, everywhere he touches igniting new flames.
before you can stop yourself, your lips move on their own.
“please,” you blurt out weakly.
“what was that, princess? couldn’t quite hear you,” he teases, holding a hand up to his ear.
“please, pleasepleasepleaseplease,” you babble desperately, “please fuck me, please suguru, please.”
with your eyes tightly shut you can’t see the way he grins, more than happy to give into your demands.
without a moment of hesitation he thrusts into you easily, a moan escaping your lips as you finally get what you had been craving. your warm walls envelop him as your eyes nearly roll back, your pussy beginning to clench around him.
“h-hah,” he whispers, “don’t tell me you’re gonna cum already, i knew you were desperate but fuck.”
his words sound fuzzy, far away; right now, all you can feel is him, the fullness, the stretch, the sweet burning pleasure of his cock inside you. after what felt like an eternity of being denied it, you get suddenly pushed over the edge of your orgasm.
“p-please,” you moan, the words aimlessly tumbling out of your mouth, “please, please.”
your vision goes white as your entire body shakes, racked with wave after wave of ecstasy. broken pleas continue to fill the room, and you’re not even sure what you’re begging for anymore, you just know that you need more.
as you come down from your high, you finally open your eyes to meet suguru’s, a glimmer of desire in his dark irises.
you feel his thumb stroke the tears off your face that you hadn’t realized were falling before he wipes the drool that had pooled at the corner of your open mouth away. he kisses you messily, his tongue easily sliding between your parted lips, his cock still buried inside you.
“you really are needy,” he breathes in awe through a smirk, “but since you asked so nicely, i’ll keep fucking you like the desperate slut you are, how’s that sound?”
blinking up at him through glazed-over eyes, you nod. “please?”
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str4wbaeby · 1 day
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𝓶𝓪 𝓶𝓾𝓼𝓮 pt.1
ᵒᵇˢᵉˢˢᵉᵈ ᵃᵘᵗʰᵒʳ ˣ ᵇᵒᵒᵏʷᵒʳᵐ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ
his presence lingered in every corner of the bookstore, name spoken in reverent tones by both staff and patrons alike. and who he might be? the literary virtuoso, Ren Takahashi, who recently emerged as a new generation fiction writer, standing as a towering figure in the realm of literature. despite being a new name in the writing community, he was quick to rise to fame with the release of his latest masterpiece, which depicted the story of a yearning painter desperately in search of his muse; the story mainly revolving around the theme of lovesickness.
being an avid book lover, it was not unusual for you to keep up with the latest updates in the community, be it newly released books or the newly emerging writers. for you, Ren was not an unfamiliar name but you never really felt truly drawn to any of his writings, which often tended to revolve around a similar theme of infatuation and obsessive love.
as you made your way through the aisles, you couldn't help but notice the prominent display of his new novel on the central shelf, the vibrant red cover drawing you in. opening the glass panel, you carefully took the book out. as you started to read, your expression quickly shifted with eyebrows furrowing into concentration as your lips curled into a smile of intrigue. turning the pages with a gentle flutter, you seemed to absorb each word presented before you. completely enamoured by the book, you failed to notice the presence of an unknown figure, leaning against the opposite bookshelf, eyes longingly staring at your small figure
"so, do you like the book?", the figure softly spoke out, careful not to startle you while clearing his throat in the process.
needless to say, you were a bit startled at first but the gentleness of his voice oddly managed to calm you down almost instantly. you were never really much of a talker, thanks to your introverted nature and not wanting to make this interaction any awkward, you just found it easier to nod your head in response. your eyes were still fixated on the pages, only to look up at the figure once you were satisfied with thorough scanning of the book. infront of you stood the most gorgeous men you have ever laid your eyes upon in your 23 years of living. luscious long hair tressed a shadowy cascade against his pale porcelain skin, hazel eyes twinkling under the bright store lighting as his 6'2 figure stood towering over you, leaning against the wooden shelf in a relaxed stance.
a shade of pink subconsciously coated your cheeks, as you struggled to maintain eye contact with the handsome stranger.
"do you come here often ?", his velvety voice echoed in your ears, slowly luring you in like a siren's song. at the sudden loss of words, all you could do was nod at his question in agreement.
noticing your flustered state, he chuckled softly, silently taking in your adorable expression and soft features.
"say, would you like to have a cup of coffee with me at the nearby cafe? I've heard their pastries are quite popular here"
the proposal was unexpected. especially coming from someone like him; someone as beautiful as him. you were average to say the least, easily passing as just another face in the crowd. why would he want someone like you?
quickly snapping out of your trance, you politely denied his offer with a firm "no". but why? didn't you like him too? the dejected look in his eyes reminded you of a lost puppy. concealing the pain with a fake smile, he handed you his number in a piece of paper, telling you to call him if you ever wanted to talk or had a change of heart regarding your little coffee date. or he could just show up at the bookstore to meet you again? you wouldn't suspect anything, right? it'll just be another coincidence, after all! ♡
with a seemingly disinterested look, you took the paper out of his hand, only to catch a quick glimpse of something that caught your eyes.
"(555) 867-xxxx
- Ren Takahashi "
∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘
➴ note : pt.2
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keerysfreckles · 4 hours
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lando not being able to be with reader!bestfriend during her birthday because its right after a race weekend and hes got media commitments. so when he gets back he surprises her by throwing her a second birthday party for just the two of them and she just gets all mushy and sappy and all she wants to do is hug him all night -🍒anon
happier — LN4
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pairing: lando norris x fem!reader
warnings: just a bit rushed :/
a/n: i. love. lando. so. bad.
masterlist !
⋆ ˚ 。 ⋆ ୨୧ ˚
y/n knew how much dedication it took to be in formula one. she knew when kando signed his first contract with mclaren that his schedule would be packed week to week. so the girl felt selfish for wanting her best friend to be home for her birthday.
she called him that morning, unsure of the time since he was almost always in a different time zone than her.
"i'll try and be there next week, i promise," he rushed out before hanging up.
y/n let her day go on normally, but her mind would often wander to the curly headed brunette. three of her closest friends surprised her with a birthday dinner, insusting that no one should be alone on their birthday.
they got her a miniature cake, with two bright pink candles, and there were probably a hundred different pictures of y/n wearing the hot pink birthday tiara somewhere in one of her friend's phone.
once again, as she and her friends were enjoying the cake, she couldn't help but want lando there beside her.
she hugged her friends goodbye, and started cleaning up. she threw paper plates, wrapping paper and confetti away.
y/n sighed, while placing the ridiculous birthday tiara down on her living room table. she was aware of it being a busy weekend for lando, considering he was in singapore for a race. so calling him was out of the question.
she debated on texting him, asking how the weekend was going, but refrained.
the birthday girl turned off her living room light, before humming the birthday tune her friends sang to her moments ago, as she made her way down the hallway towards her bedroom.
the next morning, y/n was woken up by her front door closing (quite loudly she might add). at seven in the morning, she wasn't sure if her brain was comprehending anything. so she wasn't sure if it was real, or just her mind playing tricks.
she chose the ladder as she rolled over to face the opposite way.
four and a half minutes later she heard the door open and close again.
not a coincidence, she thought. certainly a burglar wouldn't close the door so loudly, so y/n threw her blanket off before opening her bedroom door. she was met with an empty hallway, only provoking her curiosity.
her sock covered feet tred through the hallway, not entirely sure what she'd meet on the other end.
she turned the corner carefully, and her eyes widened at the scene in front of her.
lando norris was in front of her. there was a decently wrapped present in his hands, and the same birthday tiara from last night still on the table. she looked around the room, noticing the few streamers taped to the walls.
"lando!" she can't help but laugh in shock.
"happy birthday y/n!" lando holds his arms open, after filling her apartment with the sound of an obnoxious party blower.
"what are you doing here?" she asks while running into his arms.
he's quick to hold her against him, spinning her in two circles. "i hoped on the first flight i could as soon as the last media conference was done," he spoke into her neck, his smile never leaving his face.
after a few minutes — yes a few minutes, y/n did not want to let go of the brit — the pair now sat on the couch. lando handed the gift to the day-late birthday girl before putting the pink tiara on her head.
y/n laughed as she peeled back the wrapping paper, revealing two new pieces of mclaren merchandise to add to her collection.
"of course," she laughs again, holding up the shirt with lando's number on the back.
the other item in the box is a light pink mclaren hat. y/n simply puts it on her best friend's head, with him adjusting it as soon as her hands leave the material.
"thank you lan," y/n's eyes are filled with adoration as she looks at the boy in front of her.
"i could never miss your birthday," his warm smile appears on his face once more.
"technically you were a day late," y/n jokes.
"i'm here now aren't i?" lando playfully states. y/n leans forward to press a kiss on his cheek, a motion both have grown accustomed to over the years.
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dottedsilktie · 14 hours
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Spring cleaning
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Nanami Kento is the perfect man. At least, he would be if he wasn't so hellbent on dragging you into his maddening cleaning routine. Luckily, he knows just how to get you on board. cw : tooth-rotting fluff ! a little suggestive if you squint
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You used to be partial to spring, looking forward to the last days of March when the prospect of warmer days thawed the chilly remnants of winter. Then you met Kento, and spring was no longer associated with flowers in bloom and sunny days ahead. Ever since you moved in together, you started dreading the last two weeks of March. 
Kento had a peculiar way of welcoming the new season and it involved a day of thorough and almost debilitating spring cleaning. The first time he told you about it, you waved off his detailed plan for the day as a joke. Now, years later, you still cower at the thought of the back-breaking, mind-numbing and, quite frankly, infuriating cleaning programme he puts together every year to test your patience.
You've tried everything to get out of it - faking an illness, 'inadvertently' scheduling a conflicting business trip, crying and grovelling at his feet - but nothing worked. So you've come to accept your fate and gave up on throwing a tantrum first thing in the morning when your alarm rang at 6 AM sharp on that dreaded day. Kento was already out of bed, probably gearing up for a long day of power raking the yard and getting off on it. You were almost tempted to snooze it but you knew he would just slither in your room and snatch you out of bed himself. So you steeled yourself to get up, get ready and get cleaning. Kento was waiting for you in the kitchen, brows furrowed and deep in thought as he went over the printed plan he'd stuck on the fridge. He barely acknowledges you when you croak out a hoarse 'good morning' and kiss his cheek, only humming and squeezing your waist in passing. A glance at the plan he perused was enough to send shivers down your spine : it involved raking, watering, trimming everything in the garden, followed by never-ending laundry and finally channelling Kento’s Marie Kondo obsession to sort through your closets and get rid of enough junk to appease his vendetta against unworn clothes.
Once you settle on your high chair in front of the marble countertop,  Kento pushes a cup of coffee towards you, and when you wrinkle your nose at the uncharacteristically potent smell, he explains with a small smile, “Blond roast ristretto - you’re going to need it, darling ” before kissing your forehead and standing up to his full height in front of you. 
You just stare at each other for a while - you sipping the sewer water he called a coffee, and him shooting you a sharp scrutinising glare that’d have you squirming the right way any other day. “You are usually quicker than this, almost feels like you’re stalling for time”, he observes with the slightest amused upwards twitch of his mouth. God why must a man this handsome be so insufferable. “Just savouring the exquisite coffee my darling husband made for me, is that wrong ?”, you retort, tone dripping with sarcasm that only makes his smile wider.  You think you might just be able to charm and laugh your way out of this but he’s quick to pinch your nose to distract you and snatch your mug from your hands, fine blond brows quirked and rosy lips stretched in boyish mirth. He doesn’t have to reprimand you, you’re already raising your hands in defeat, mumbling in a tone nothing short of dejected, “Okay, okay – no need to get handsy,  it’s not easy giving up on my freedom”. To drive your point home, you make a show out of slowly sliding off your high chair, hissing and groaning as you stretch your arms over your head and crack your knuckles right under Kento’s nose. “I’m not fit for these things, Kento - every time I move I feel my body cracking and all, I’m not made for physical labour”.
He listens intently, amusement shifting into mild concern as his hangdog gaze dart between your cup that he rinses off and the pathetic stretching routine you’re performing. Kento moves to dry his hands on a kitchen towel before cupping your cheeks. His amber eyes are so soft and he looks at you with a fondness so genuine, so poignant you’re sure he’s going to let you off the hook. You inch even closer to victory when he bends down to brush the tip of his nose against yours and ghost chaste kisses along your cheeks, your jaw, then your temples. He stays like that for a while, one hand at your nape brushing the delicate hair there, the other cradling your face and rubbing soothing circles against your heated skin.
“I’m sorry”, he whispers right into your ear, his voice smooth and comforting, then he’s back to peppering your temple and cheek with small pecks that make you melt against him. “It’s fine, I know you wouldn’t want to put me through that now that you see just how bad it’d be for me to — " “I’m sorry that you thought this would be a convincing performance”, he cuts you off, biting down on your earlobe, making you gasp at the unexpected nip of his sharp teeth against your sensitive skin.
He pulls back to appreciate how your pretty face contorts in fluster, then surprise, before twisting in an angry pout. You’re gnawing at your bottom lip, arms crossed over your chest, truly defeated this time and the shame of being played only adds to your growing irritation. “My petulant little thespian is at her wits’ end”, he taunts you in a singsong voice, his usually inflectionless baritone voice sounding uncharacteristically chipper. You stare at your feet with the vexed mortification of a child caught red-handed and Kento has to hook a finger under your chin for you to look him in the eyes.
“Do a good job cleaning today and I might just help you work out those aches that make you ‘unfit’, mmh ?”, he offers, the swift flicker of his gaze between your eyes and your lips sullying the apparent innocence of his offer. He doesn’t give you time to answer as he brushes past you, a smug smile playing on his lips, and you all but scurry out of the kitchen, hot on his heels and bursting with energy. Needless to say, the house is spotless by the end of the day, your assigned chores crossed off at record speed.
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can you tell i love domestic kento
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clangenrising · 2 days
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Month 14 - April Gathering
“I’m so excited!” Fogpaw squeaked, bouncing along beside Floodpaw and Slatepaw. 
“We know,” Floodpaw rolled his eyes with a groan, “You’ve said so like a million times.” Fogpaw frowned and suddenly didn’t feel like bouncing anymore. She hadn’t realized she was being annoying. 
“It’s alright,” Slatepaw said, “I’m excited too.” 
“It’s your first Gathering,” said Pantherhaze on Slatepaw’s other side. “It’s completely normal to be excited about it.” He glanced at Floodpaw who looked away. 
“Well, I am,” said Fogpaw. She looked up at the full moon and smiled. “Do you think StarClan will cover the moon?” 
“I hope not,” said Pantherhaze. “If they did it would mean they disapproved of the Gathering.”
“I just think it would be cool,” shrugged Fogpaw. She imagined a roll of thunder and a sudden stormy sky, a powerful sign of StarClan’s wrath. She hoped that, at least some day, she got to see it.
The RisingClan cats - her, Slatepaw, Floodpaw, Pantherhaze, Scorchplume, Goldenstar, Russetfrond, and Sagetooth - emerged from the trees into the clearing. Fogpaw made an awe-filled sound of wonder at the sight of the Cornerstones towering up ahead. A white she-cat and a ginger one were sitting on top, bathed in moonlight, their deputies conversing on the rubble beneath them. Goldenstar whispered something to Scorchplume and then went to join them. 
Floodpaw was moving to meet a group of cats who looked close to his age and Fogpaw decided to follow him. Slatepaw followed her, both of them trailing after Floodpaw like ducklets. 
“Have fun and be respectful!” Pantherhaze called after them.
“We will!” squeaked Slatepaw. 
“Hey!” A pale, spotted tabby looked up as Floodpaw approached. “Floodpaw, how’s it going?”
“Great,” purred Floodpaw, “We’ve got some big news tonight. I’m excited for you to hear it.” 
“Ooh, well now I’m invested,” he grinned. 
“You’ve got some kittens stuck to your fur,” said a white she-cat with a ginger striped tail. The ginger cat wearing moth wings next to her smiled in a way that struck Fogpaw as mysterious.
“Oh,” Floodpaw turned to look at them and grimaced a little. “Right, uh, this is Fogpaw and Slatepaw.”
“Hi!” Fogpaw grinned. Slatepaw pressed into her side nervously. 
Floodpaw continued, “Uh, guys, these are my friends.” The white cat huffed a mean laugh. “Boldmoth and Fishtrick are from EarthClan and Fernpaw is from SkyClan.” 
“It’s Fernspeckle now!” beamed the spotted tabby. 
“Aw, really?” frowned Floodpaw. “I mean, congrats, but I was sure I was gonna get my name before you!” 
“Having a leader as your mother has its perks,” Fernspeckle laughed. 
“An admission you graduated before you were ready,” Fishtrick hummed. 
“You’ll get your name soon,” Boldmoth said, looking at Floodpaw. 
“Thanks,” he blushed under her cool, golden gaze.  
“Your mom is the leader?” Fogpaw asked loudly. Floodpaw and his friends all winced. 
“Yeah,” said Fernspeckle, “Snowstar’s my mother.” 
“That’s so cool,” Fogpaw said seriously. “My mom’s dead.” Fernspeckle froze in surprise. Fishtrick raised a brow skeptically. Boldmoth frowned sympathetically.
“Hey, uh,” Floodpaw said quickly, “Look, there’s an apprentice your age, why don’t you guys go talk to him?” FallenClan had arrived and Fogpaw followed Floodpaw’s gaze to a pale ginger tom who looked just a little bit older than her and Slatepaw settling down beside a warrior with brown points. 
“Oh, okay,” she said, wilting a little. She couldn’t help but feel like Floodpaw didn’t want her around. Still, she was interested in making a new friend so she looked at Slatepaw and said, “Come on, let’s go say hi!” Slatepaw gave a worried noise through pursed lips and glanced over at Floodpaw’s friends before nodding. Fogpaw started to make her way through the crowd, Slatepaw pressed against her side.
Behind her, she heard Floodpaw say, “Yikes, sorry about that, guys.” She sighed a little. 
“Fogpaw, why did you say that?” Slatepaw asked quietly. 
“Huh?” she asked, looking over. “Say what?” 
“You know,” Slatepaw chewed her lip worriedly. “About mama.” 
“Oh,” Fogpaw shrugged. She had already forgotten about that. “Cause it’s true?” 
“Right,” Slatepaw said softly. Fogpaw frowned, confused. Shaking her head, she decided to ignore it and focus on meeting this new apprentice. 
As they drew close, she raised her tail and said, “Hi there! I’m Fogpaw and this is my sister Slatepaw! What’s your name?” The apprentice looked over at her apprehensively. 
Beside him, his mentor smiled and said, “I’m Duskstep and this is Lionpaw. We’re from FallenClan.” He nudged Lionpaw’s leg gently.
“It’s nice to meet you,” said Lionpaw, barely audible but in a listless way, not like Slatepaw’s nervous whispering. It was like he didn’t have the energy to speak any louder. Fogpaw immediately decided that he seemed extremely boring. She glanced back over to where Floodpaw was joking with his friends and wished she could just go back and hang out with them. 
“It’s nice to meet you too,” smiled Slatepaw as they sat down. “Do you know Poppybird?”
“Yes,” purred Duskstep, “she’s our Clan’s mediator.” 
“She was friends with our mama,” Slatepaw said. “She comes and visits us sometimes.” 
“That’s nice,” said Duskstep. 
“She mentioned you,” said Slatepaw, looking at Lionpaw. He sat up a little straighter and blinked at her. Fogpaw yawned. 
“She did?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Slatepaw said. “We asked her about the kits in FallenClan and she talked about you.” Fogpaw groaned and stood to go find someone else to sit with. She wasn’t going to stay here and listen to boring small talk all gathering. 
“W- Fogpaw, where are you going?” asked Slatepaw. 
“I dunno,” Fogpaw shrugged, “to find Scorchplume or something.” 
“Oh, okay…” Slatepaw frowned. Fogpaw wasn’t sure why she was upset but it annoyed her. Huffling she turned and stomped away. 
The meeting was packed. Fogpaw hadn’t seen this many cats since they had gathered in camp for the big battle. The noise of it made her hackles prickle unconsciously. She reared onto her hind legs to try and spot her mentor’s bright ginger pelt. It was difficult with the height of the other cats. She padded a bit to the side to try and find a better vantage point, then someone right next to her spoke, throwing her off guard.
“Oh! Look at that!” said a she-cat nearby. Fogpaw looked on instinct and realized the grey tabby was looking right at her. 
“Uh…” She glanced around to make sure there wasn’t something else the cat could be looking at. 
“I know that pelt,” continued the cat. “You look just like the old tom Snowstar was fighting in the snowstorm battle!”
“Really?” asked the brown tabby next to her. This one narrowed her eyes at Fogpaw, making her want to squirm. “One of the rogues?” 
“Yes, exactly,” said the first cat. “Hello there, kit, what’s your name?” Fogpaw swallowed. At least they were talking to her now instead of about her. 
“Fogpaw,” she said. “Who are you?”
“I’m Greyvoice,” said the first cat with a smile, “and this is Perchingcall. Please, why don’t you come sit with us?” 
“Um, okay,” said Fogpaw. The idea that two grown ups wanted her to sit with them was exciting. Smiling, she settled down near them. 
Greyvoice scooted closer to her and said, “This is your first gathering, isn’t it?” 
“Yeah,” nodded Fogpaw. “I got apprenticed last week!”
“That’s so exciting,” purred Greyvoice, attentive and warm. Perchingcall smiled too but it didn’t feel right to Fogpaw. “You’re, um, Smokyrose’s kit, right?” 
“Yeah,” Fogpaw nodded again. 
“Such a shame about her, by the way,” Greyvoice frowned briefly. “I hope you’re doing alright.” 
“I’m fine,” said Fogpaw. Her tail tip twitched a bit - she hated when cats pitied her - but Greyvoice moved on quickly so she let it go.
“I’m so curious though,” said Greyvoice, “I mean, I’ve only heard rumors, so I have to ask: Is it true your father is the rogues’ deputy?” 
“Um,” Fogpaw screwed her mouth to the side as she thought. “I think so. His name’s Ghost. He’s the reason our mom is dead.” Or something like that. No one would tell her for certain what had happened. She had been forced to glean a few details from overheard conversations. 
Greyvoice and Perchingcall at least didn’t get those weird, surprised expressions on their faces like Floodpaw's friends had. Perchingcall frowned like she wanted to tear Ghost’s pelt and Greyvoice let out a soft little noise of sympathy.
“That’s terrible,” said Greyvoice. “What do you mean, he’s the reason why? I only heard that she had died, I didn’t hear what happened.” 
“And you won’t,” said Scorchplume, appearing suddenly behind Fogpaw. Her sharp blue eyes were narrowed at Greyvoice as she said, “Fogpaw get up. You’re going to come sit with me.” 
“But-” Fogpaw bristled in protest, “But I was just making friends!” 
“We don’t make friends with other Clans,” Scorchplume scowled, still not looking at her. “A warrior should know better.” Her words felt pointed at Greyvoice, just as sharp as her eyes. Fogpaw frowned and got to her feet. 
“Fine,” she grumbled. Maybe her spell had been wrong and Scorchplume wasn’t a good mentor. 
Greyvoice preened her chest a bit and said, “Well I’m fine considering us friends, Fogpaw. Maybe I’ll see you some other time.” 
Scorchplume growled a warning. “Stay away from my apprentice, Greyvoice.” The warrior in question huffed irritably but made no further comments. Scorchplume nudged Fogpaw towards the back of the crowd, saying, “That way.” 
“I’m going!” Fogpaw griped, stomping off. When they were nearing the back of the crowd, she added, “What was that for? I thought Russetfrond was the one who’s all ‘don’t talk to anybody ever!’” She bobbled her head and deepened her voice as she imitated him. 
Scorchplume flicked her tail and wrapped it around Fogpaw to urge her to sit. “Oh, I don’t care about talking to other Clans,” she said, and Fogpaw’s mouth fell open in confusion.
“Then, what-”
“Greyvoice was taking advantage of you,” said Scorchplume simply. “She doesn’t actually want to be your friend, she just wants to know the gossip about your father.” 
“Wait, really?” Fogpaw’s ears slid back against her head. She hadn’t been able to tell at all. Her stomach turned into a heavy, nauseous lump.
“Mhm,” said Scorchplume, glancing sideways at her. “I’m not going to let someone like that take advantage of my apprentice.” Her voice caught in her throat on the word, a growl that made Fogpaw feel like Scorchplume would fight a lion for her.
“But, then, why did you lie?” asked Fogpaw. 
Scorchplume glanced around as if making sure no one could hear before she said softly, “It’s better if I let her think I haven’t noticed what she actually wants. That way, she underestimates me. That way, I have the advantage next time we meet.” Fogpaw’s eyes were as wide and round as the moon. “So I got you out without tipping her off. I hope I wasn’t too harsh.”
“No, that’s amazing!” Fogpaw breathed. “It’s like magic! You have to teach me!” 
Scorchplume’s eyes flickered over her again, a tiny smile poking at the corners of her mouth. “It would be my pleasure,” she said. Fogpaw grinned, kneading the dirt with her paws. The spell had definitely worked. 
“Where do we start?” she asked. 
“Well-”
Snowstar’s voice boomed over the crowd. “Alright! I think it’s about time we got started!” The assembled cats hushed each other and fell quiet. 
“The first step,” Scorchplume spoke quickly and quietly, like she was giving Fogpaw an urgent secret, “is to figure out what cats want. Once you master that, you can start using it to your advantage.”
“Got it,” Fogpaw whispered back. 
“As a bit of good news to start off with,” Snowstar continued, “SkyClan welcomes a new warrior, the first of the kits to have survived Red Gut! Fernspeckle has shown himself to be a cat with a quick tongue and a quicker wit and we are beyond proud to have him among our ranks!” 
“She’s Fernspeckle’s mom,” Fogpaw whispered to Scorchplume.
Scorchplume raised a brow in interest. “Good to know.” 
When the crowd finished chanting Fernspeckle’s name, Snowstar said, “As well, Newleaf has been kind to us. Prey is flowing well and we are happy to continue sharing with our less fortunate neighbors if need be.” 
“What does Snowstar want?” Scorchplume whispered to Fogpaw. 
“Um… I don’t know.” Fogpaw shrugged. How was she supposed to be able to tell from that?
“She wants to be seen as strong and generous,” answered Scorchplume. “See the way she’s offering to help us like it makes her special? Sometimes what a cat wants is to look a certain way to other people. Remember that.” Fogpaw hummed as she nodded. This was harder than she had expected. 
“It’s most appreciated,” Orangestar said, voice wobbling tiredly. 
“Yes,” Goldenstar agreed, much firmer, “but RisingClan would like to be self-sufficient again as soon as possible. It is in that vein that I would like to propose another alliance, like the one we made for the battle of the snowstorm.” 
“Has there been another prophecy?” Snowstar asked. 
“No,” Goldenstar said, “but we have a plan.” She stood and raised her tail confidently and none of the other leaders tried to interrupt her so she continued. “It has recently come to my attention that Razor, the leader of the rogues, is interested in a one on one meeting with me. This meeting will almost certainly be a trap in which he intends to kill me, who he believes to be the Clans’ only leader. We will give him this meeting but we will spring a trap of our own instead!” 
RisingClan’s warriors and a few other Clan cats cheered in response. Scorchplume stayed silent so Fogpaw did the same. 
“And you need our help to do so,” said Flightstar as if he’d caught her trying to sneak it past him. 
“Yes,” said Goldenstar. “RisingClan alone won’t be able to stand against Razor but together we will most definitely be able to overpower him and put an end to this war.” 
“Then SkyClan will be there,” said Snowstar. “We would see this conflict put to rest for the good of every Clan.” 
“FallenClan as well,” said Flightstar with a twitch of his ear. “Where there’s a fight to be fought you will find the warriors of the deep woods.” A few FallenClan cats crowed proudly. 
“What does Flightstar want?” Scorchplume whispered again. 
“Um… is it to look a certain way?” asked Fogpaw.
“Mhm.” 
“Um… He wants to look brave?” 
“Good,” purred Scorchplume. “He wants to look brave and strong and to tell everyone that they couldn’t beat him if they tried.” 
“Huh,” Fogpaw squinted up at him. That made sense, she thought. 
“What about EarthClan?” Goldenstar asked, looking at Orangestar. “We were hoping to use the edge of your forest for the meeting spot, to help hide our warriors and provide a terrain advantage.” 
Orangestar shifted and nodded. “Yes. EarthClan will stand by you. StarClan willing, this is the final battle of this war.” 
“StarClan willing,” nodded Snowstar. 
“Excellent,” Goldenstar said. “I will reach out to you to pick the location of the ambush. After that, I’ll send for a meeting with the leaders and things will be put into motion.” She shifted her posture to something a little more open and said, “In other news, we have two new apprentices with us today, Fogpaw and Slatepaw.” 
Fogpaw jumped to her feet and stood up tall so everyone could see her. A few cats tossed glances her way. She noticed Greyvoice among them. Scorchplume’s tail swished over her back, urging her to sit, and she did. The meeting moved on. The other Clans had very little news to share and soon after, RisingClan was heading home. 
“Thanks for teaching me,” Fogpaw said as she padded with Scorchplume to join the others.
“It’s my job isn’t it?” asked her mentor.
“Yeah, but I don’t think this is part of normal warrior stuff. I knew you were special.” 
Scorchplume huffed a laugh. “Good,” she purred, “and don’t forget it.”
74 notes · View notes
makeyoumine69 · 3 days
Text
Memory Reboot x2
PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader
SUMMARY: After wrestling with the lingering thoughts of Bateman, you finally found yourself open to Paul Allen's offer — a life-changing opportunity. But despite your resolve, you couldn't shake the need for closure. Determined, you sought one last encounter with Patrick, intent on resolving the unsaid and the undone before the cityscape of New York faded into your past.
CONTAINS: Smut, angst, mutual pining, obsessive behavior, desperate & sensual foreplay, anal fingering, pegging, sex toys, face riding, penetrative sex, rimming (Patrick receiving), oral sex (69, blowjobs), edging, biting, spanking, cum shot, masturbating, praise kink, body worship, drug usage, pet names, dirty talk, needy Patrick, misogyny, swearing, gaslighting, manhandling, mind manipulation.
WORDS: 8.7k
SONG REC: VØJ, Narvent — Euphoria
A/N: Hello everyone, I'm sorry it took me quite long to write this, I hope you like it! If you find any mistakes regarding gn!reader, please let me know!
LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [CHAPTER 1].
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The clock’s ticking was the only sound in the opulent meeting room of Pierce & Pierce office. Your heart seemed to beat to the rhyme of ticking, while you were nervously spinning the thin cigarette in your hands but never really trying to actually smoke;  the glass ashtray in front of you would probably be left empty till the end of the day. It was even funny how drastically things changed after that…moment of privacy you shared with Bateman. Starting from that, you couldn’t really get him out of your head, even though it has already been several weeks of your pretending game of “nothing had happened” between you and Patrick. It was a matter of time, when your colleagues would start to notice your strange behavior whenever you and Bateman were in one room. 
Squeezing the cigarette between your shaky fingers, you turned around in the leather chair to look at the New York skyline through the wide window. ‘That it is not an exit,’ echoed in your ears and you tried to shake the nervousness off from your tense shoulders, but the more you were being alone, the more surrounding space was weighing on you as if you were on the very bottom of the Pacific ocean. 
The moment the door swung open and Timothy Bryce entered the meeting room, you were more in control of yourself. “Hey, Tim. Haven’t seen you in ages.”
“Sorry, (y/n). Had a business call with some delusional prick.” Bryce snarled and took a seat across from you.
“Delusional prick?”
"Yeah, you know...delusional," he chuckled and glanced at the cigarette in your hand, which was still more like an accessory. "The guy thought I gave a fuck about his life and his wife, who used to be a whore, by the way."
With a soft snicker, you made yourself more comfortable in your chair, throwing one leg over another. “Wanna smoke?”
“Yep,” he leaned over the table to take the cigarette, your fingers touched for a moment but none of you paid attention. “So, what happened? Why did you want to see me?”
Confused, you took a moment to think about your answer. You worried a lot about picking the right words, but now you were even more anxious. ‘I just need to tell him the truth and that’s all,’ you reassured yourself before turning to face Tim. “Well, the thing is - I’m quitting P & P.”
Tim’s face remained unchanged for a second, but then the man furrowed his brows, tilting his head and rubbing his ear as if he didn’t hear. “You're what? Quitting?”
"Right," you gave him a half-smile and continued. "Recently, I received a very... very good offer from one company in Chicago."
“Jesus Christ. Chicago? Really?”
“What’s wrong with it?”
Bryce lit the cigarette and leaned back in his chair. “Who the fuck even gave you this idea? And why so sudden? You have such a good job here, with a good salary and…” He paused and blew a few rings of smoke. “Do those bastards pay well?”
Laughing heartily, you crossed your arms over your chest and watched the smoke dividing the room in two with a white veil. “So many questions. Are you interested in leaving Pierce & Pierce too?”  That was not a serious question, since you knew that Bryce was more than satisfied with his job. “If I say who recommended that place to me, will you keep it a secret?” Tim nodded even before you could say something else. “I was at one P&P party, that one you decided to skip a week ago. So, there I met Paul Allen and we talked a bit and he mentioned that he just came back from his business trip from Chicago…we had a long conversation, but as a result he proposed to me to think about the option to change my current job.”
All the time while you were speaking, Tim was glancing at you with wide open eyes, his prominent brows curling up and down whenever you mentioned Paul Allen’s name. It was always funny for you to watch Bateman & Co getting so frustrated and annoyed whenever Allen was around or whenever someone discussed his success with having the Fisher account. To say the least, his ability to get a reservation at Dorsia. ‘I’m not gonna tell any of them that Allen offered me dinner in Dorsia after that party.’
“So you were unsatisfied with your job all this time and didn’t say anything? That sucks, (y/n). Didn’t expect that to come, not gonna lie,” Bryce made a low sound which was very similar to growling, but at the same time it also sounded like a scoff. “But, if that really is what you want, then who am I to judge you? We have only one life to fulfill all our needs, right?”
Timothy’s statement was like a balm to your soul, that was exactly what you hoped he would tell you and when he did, you felt some kind of relief washing over you like a breeze of fresh air.
“Thank you, Tim,” you finally grinned and put your elbows on the table. “Glad you didn’t start to read me notations.”
“Are you gonna tell him?”
“Him?” You squinted and tilted your head; your intuition was screaming that something was so damn wrong.
“Bateman,” with a sly smile, Bryce put the cigarette out in a glass ashtray; his glance was eloquent but you never really managed to read it. “I bet he will be upset. Very upset.”
“Bryce ” you rolled your eyes. ‘Is he lying or…?’ That question remained unspoken. “Leave these cheesy jabs to yourself, okay?”
Tim only laughed at your weak attempt to threaten him and stood up from the table. “You know, I saw him with Jean in Arcadia last night…” Now this information could come in handy… “I think they had some kind of date or something, huh,” he chuckled again and fixed his tie, giving the picture on the opposite wall a scrutinizing glance. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but something is definitely happening. In my opinion, you should tell him about your…unexpecting leaving, you know.”
Before you could respond, Timothy Bryce looked at you one last time and left the meeting room. Now, you were left alone but not really alone as the weight of the newfound information lay on your shoulders like two massive dumbbells. ‘If everything is too obvious for Bryce, what other things might the others think about me and Bateman?’ That was a rhetorical question mostly, but still you couldn’t even get up from the chair, sensing the strange, chilling fear inside your chest—what if you were mistaken with accepting the offer of a new job?
Gritting your teeth, you snarled and almost kicked the table from beneath, your palms were clenching and unclenching, thankfully no one could see you like this. Swiftly but nervously, you finally stood up and headed out from the meeting room, striving to avoid any of your soon-to-be-ex colleagues on your way to Bateman’s office. 
How many times have you rehearsed the words you were going to say while you were walking up there? Countless. But still, when you entered Patrick's office and saw his lovely secretary, everything inside you froze - words, emotions, even your breath.
“Hi, Jean,” you mumbled, with a half-smile on your slightly tensed face. “Looking good.”
“Uh, thank you,” the blonde woman replied and fixed the stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
As soon as you heard the echo of Patrick's voice through the office door, a lump formed in your throat and you had to cough several times because of the unpleasant dryness.
“Well,” you paused and glanced at the closed door with a nameplate ‘Patrick Bateman’ on it. “You would help me a lot if you let me have a private conversation with your boss.”
“Patrick is,” her voice suddenly wavered, implying that something was wrong. “He’s busy right now.”
“Oh,” you stepped back involuntarily. “Okay, I can come later.”
“No,” Jean replied curtly. “I’m sorry, but today is not an option at all.”
‘Is that some kind of joke?’ You hummed to yourself, already regretting coming here in the first place. “All right then. Have a nice day, Jean.” Turning around you already stepped out from the office when you head her voice:
“(Y/n), wait. Oh, I hope I pronounced your name correctly.” She blushed once you came back inside. “I think I can tell him about your visit, when he will be less busy.”
That offer was not something you would expect. “Actually, that would be nice,” you clicked on your tongue, considering your next steps. “Tell him that I have a reservation at Dorsia at eight o’clock–”
“Today?” Her question cut off your bluffing. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”
You just grinned politely in return. “Yep, today. Tell him…that I need to talk with him about business and stuff. And, that it would be probably the last chance for him to catch up with me.” Jean’s eyes widened for a moment, but you reassured her instantly. “No drama, just changing my job.”
“Uh, that was probably a tough decision?”
“Not really,” you winked at her and crossed your arms over the chest. “But don’t tell him about that, okay?”
“Yeah, sure.” She tried to hide her confusion behind a warm smile but failed. “I’ll tell him that you will be waiting for him at Dorsia tonight and that this conversation is very important.”
“Uh-huh,” you hummed and for a moment just stood there, looking at the closed office door. “Thank you, darling. For everything.”
You made a special accent on the word ‘darling’, purposely embarrassing her and leaving no room for any questions and other stuff that would make a current situation even more fucked up. 
After you left Bateman’s office you had to find Allen as only half of what you told Jean was actually bluffing—you knew that Paul had a reservation at Dorsia tonight, considering he was inviting you for dinner. Allen’s strange interest in you wasn’t your top priority at that moment but using it for your sake was something you couldn’t deny at such a situation. So when you finally found Paul in one of the meeting rooms, you persuaded him to give you that reservation, explaining that you wanted to show one of your colleagues Dorsia before you would leave New York and move to Chicago. And even though everyone would find out that that colleague was Patrick Bateman, you wouldn't’ care since you would be far away from here.
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A few hours later, the melodious voice of Whitney Houston reverberated off the walls of the opulent living room in Bateman's apartment, the lyrics of "I Wanna Dance with Somebody," which Patrick knew perfectly, striking a chord in his chest every time the song came on.
But today everything was different.
Everything, except some random blonde bimbo who was on her knees between Bateman’s spread legs, sucking his thick cock but not actually giving him any pleasure. Frustrated, the man tugged on her hair without any compassion, bringing her closer, so her nose was almost brushing against his hairy pubis. But almost immediately, the woman began to whimper and claw at the perfect skin of his hips, and he didn't like it.
“What? Already tired?” Bateman sneered and fixated the blonde’s head in one place for a moment by her neck. “Or is that your first time? Then, I’m so fucking honored!"
As soon as the man let the blonde go, she pushed him away and sat back on her ass, breathing heavily. “Are you crazy?” the bimbo inquired and pressed a hand to her half-exposed breasts, her whole appearance looked messy. “I was about…t-to choke on your fucking dick!”
Sighing, Bateman rolled his eyes and just stretched out on the couch, lazily stroking his half-hard shaft. "So, this is your first time?" The woman hesitated to answer, which only made Patrick mock her even more. "Did you tell me that you have a boyfriend? And he works at P&P, right?"
Wiping her mouth with undisguised contempt, the blonde started to get up, but Patrick stepped on the hem of her dress and she almost fell. "Marcus! Stop it!"
"Uh, look at you," the man chuckled, watching her feeble attempts to get up. "Such a pathetic little bitch, pathetic and greedy," the man added, giggling. "Ready to give head to every vice president at Pierce & Pierce! Your boyfriend should be so proud of you."
The woman was on the verge of tears when Bateman finally allowed her to get up and collect her things. She had been in such a hurry that she had left her panties on the glass coffee table. All this gave Patrick much more pleasure than the blonde's inexperienced blowjob.
"Ask your boyfriend to teach you how to suck dicks," he blurted out as the woman rushed into the hallway, rifling through her purse looking for something. "Since he's probably a pro at that sort of thing."
But the girl was already gone. So the man could only laugh to himself, so proud of his cheeky jabs, if only he didn't feel like a schoolboy dreading his upcoming meeting with his teacher. With a heavy sigh, Bateman closed his eyes for a second, his cock was already soft, but his sac were still tense and full of his cum; he felt too unsatisfied with himself, which only made things worse.
What was it even for?
The man could just take some coke, lie down on his bed, close his eyes and think of you—that was enough for him to cum so hard that he had to go to the laundry almost every day because he ran out of sheets. But today was different, considering that Patrick was going to meet you, and not just anywhere, but in fucking Dorsia. It seemed that everyone in this town could get a res there, but not him.
Biting his lower lip, the man looked down at the throbbing cock in his hand - the mere thought of you was making him horny as hell. "Shit…" If only he could reboot his memory and get rid of that scene in the Tunnel. If only. Meanwhile, the Whitney Houston tape continued to play the song "Where Do Broken Hearts Go". Bateman doubted he would be able to masturbate, he was too nervous and stressed out, even imagining you while that bitch was giving him head didn't work. Although it usually did. "Dorsia, huh," the man giggled nervously and checked his Rolex - he still had plenty of time. As if spellbound, Patrick slid to the floor and kicked off his leather shoes, his red tie already loosened and his pants hiked down. Leaning against the couch, Bateman threw his head back and began to jack off, recalling the forbidden, sinful sensations of your hand sliding along his hot flesh. "Mmm-fuck," he moaned and shivered, his free hand already gripping the edge of the white couch, several beads of sweat running down his tense temples. What if today he finally found the courage to confess? Confess that all these days had been a fucking torture for him, that he was ready to crawl on the walls from how much he longed for you, not even physically, but mentally. Maybe, just maybe, your reassurance that everything was not over for him, that maybe he still had a chance to have some normalcy in this cruel world—could change everything?
"Fuck, f-fuck!" Patrick cursed, sensing that his impending orgasm was slipping away from him just by reflecting on the things that were happening between the two of you. Jerking off and thinking about your sexy voice, your hot body and your cheeky smile was one thing, it always turned him on better than anything else, but thinking about the complexity of your relationship… that was not a turn-on for him. Not at all. Cursing to himself, Patrick slicked back his auburn hair and quickly got up to stagger to the bathroom, where he nervously opened the cabinet behind the mirror and found a small white jar of pills. Xanax was his only stress reliever so far. Taking a deep, almost desperate breath, Bateman looked at his reflection, his bloodshot eyes full of tears that threatened to cascade down like a waterfall. "This is not an exit." Patrick told his reflection, but opened the jar anyway and took a handful of pills. Frustrated, unsatisfied, he didn't know how he was going to survive dinner with you, and Dorsia was the last thing on his mind. "Because I'm scared. I'm so fucking scared."
Luckily, the marble walls of his bathroom were the only witnesses to his downfall.
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Dawn came to New York faster than you could imagine. All the way to Dorsia you were nervous, but still confident in the plan you had made earlier that day. Even though you had failed in your previous attempt to dot the T's at the Tunnel, today would be different, you were sure of it. ‘I don't even know why, though,’ you chuckled to yourself, and the taxi driver gave you a concerned glance, but you just shrugged it off, signaling him to concentrate on the road.
In the restaurant everything looked the same as when you were here with Paul Allen, but this time you were not the one who was invited, but the one who invited another person—named Patrick Bateman—and speaking of whom, was late and that made you quite anxious. ‘What if he just doesn’t come?’ This thought made you fidget in the chair, your hands fumbling with the napkin on your knees and after telling the waiter for the second time that you were expecting someone else to come, your fingers became cold as if they were frozen. 
“Maybe I can bring you some drinks?” The waiter didn’t give up, spurring you to order at least something to drink.
Quickly running a hand across your strained face, you exhaled loudly and nodded. “Yeah, drinks,” you stummered when you looked past the waiter, noticing the familiar elegant silhouette coming close to your table. “Can you…bring…some water?”
Confused, the waiter glanced down at the full glass of water next to you. “Uh, more water?”
“(Y/n),” Bateman’s voice echoed across the space. “I hope I didn't make you wait for so long,” he chuckled and took a seat at the table. “Had some important business affairs.” The moment he noticed the confused waiter, Patrick gave him his most sassy smile and checked his Rolex for no reason, probably just to show them out. “Can you please bring me a glass of J&B and some fresh salad to your taste.”
‘A salad, really?’ You almost snickered, but instead your face turned into a neutral expression. "Business, huh?"
Bateman rested more comfortably in his chair after the waiter finally left. "You know, some affairs with blonde hair and long legs, big tits and an amazing ass."
That came out of nowhere. 
Still calm, you watched the man across from you smile, surely proud of himself and so damn bossy it was almost absurd. "You mean someone in particular, don't you?"
“Oh, yeah,” Patrick put his both elbows on the table, clasping his hands, revealing his gold Rolex once again. “Her name is Stephany, if I’m not mistaken, she’s a girlfriend of one of our accountants,” the man paused before snickering. “That one who makes monthly reports, you know him. So, I’m a bit late because I couldn't leave such a lovely girl without a treat she deserved.”
Right now, you didn't care if it was true or not—his well-framed—confidence was something you found very interesting and even amusing, as it was proof that he was preparing for this dinner just like you were.
"And that's when I thought vice presidents actually worked at Pierce & Pierce." With a slight grin, you joked and finally took a sip of water, feeling your throat suddenly go dry, just like when you were talking to Jean earlier.
Bateman's sudden laugh rang out like shattered glass. "'C'mon, (y/n), don't pretend you don't know that-"
"I know that your father owns almost half of the company," you interrupted him abruptly, and he wasn't happy about it. "And that gives you certain privileges."
"Don't be envious. It doesn't suit you."
"Envious?" You set the glass of water aside. "I think it was me who invited you here so that you could finally visit Dorsia… at least once."
The air between the two of you was thick with venom and something even more poisonous. Nevertheless, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't think Bateman was acting like the jerk he undoubtedly was. But, to be honest, you expected him to act a little less smug.
"I still think this place is overrated," Patrick hissed through clenched teeth right as the waiter brought him his whiskey and salad with sliced vegetables and some cheese, which he didn't even touch, taking a big gulp of his drink. "So, uh, Jean told me you wanted to talk to me about something important. What is it?"
The waiter didn't even try to offer to check the menu again and retreated, but he would definitely come back later with the same request, since you hadn't ordered anything yet.
"Well, it doesn't seem to matter anymore," you suddenly declared, crumpling the paper napkin before dropping it on the finest tablecloth. "The thing is—I'm quitting P&P and moving to Chicago. That's it. Nothing special, really."
The moment of silence washed over them both like a tidal wave. Visibly shocked, Bateman just sat there, then nervously straightened his tie and looked around as if to call for help. 'Not so ballsy anymore, Patty?' There was something about the way he was humiliated, something that stirred a burning flame in your gut that came dangerously close to burning you alive from the inside. And again, you would be lying to yourself if you pretended you could control it.
"Chicago?" Patrick repeated as if he hadn't heard correctly.
"Why do both you and Bryce react as if Chicago were a desert island?"
"Heh," Bateman rubbed the bridge of his nose and leaned back in his chair. "So Bryce knows everything. Why am I not surprised?"
"I'd tell you more," that was the moment you'd been waiting for so long—the moment of his vulnerability, and you couldn't stop yourself like a shark who sensed blood in the water. "Paul Allen was the one who actually recommended this job to me."
Patrick's jaw clenched at the mention of Paul Allen. "Really?"
"Yes," you continued to corner him. "One day we were having dinner, here, in Dorsia," you grinned, catching every little change in Bateman's no longer confident face. "He said one of his buddies was starting a new company, and they were looking for specialists… like me."
"Well," he began, sliding his hand across the table's surface as if to calm down. "Good for you, (y/n). Congratulations!" That was the most fake 'congratulations' you ever heard, even though you were expecting a slightly different reaction. "But I don't understand. Why didn't you talk to me before? Before you made your decision."
This question almost made you choke. 'Did he really say that?' And just as you were about to answer, the waiter came across the table again, choosing the perfect moment. Before he could offer to check the menu, you raised your hand in an irritating gesture. "Bring me a vodka and orange juice," Patrick's eyebrows arched almost immediately. "Double vodka, please."
"Yes, s-sure." The waiter stuttered before taking the crumpled napkin and walking away, very stressed.
Without giving yourself time to think, you leaned against the table and muttered. "Why should I? We are not friends."
"Of course not," Bateman scowled, crossing his arms over his broad chest, the black pinstriped suit outlining his physique perfectly. "Not after you gave me a decent handjob in the Tunnel bathrooms."
Patrick caught you off guard by injecting this argument so blatantly into the conversation. "Decent? It was fucking amazing." You growled and quickly turned around to see if anyone was paying attention to your table, and when you were sure there was nothing to worry about, you faced Patrick again. "Too amazing, considering you seem to be thinking about it all the time."
"W-what? I… I didn't…"
Sneering, you tapped your fingers on the table in nervous anticipation of your drinks, even though you hadn't planned on drinking any alcohol, wanting to keep yourself as sober as possible for the dinner and everything that might or might not happen afterwards.
"Relax, Bateman," you rested your chin on your clasped hands, finally allowing yourself to examine his handsome appearance, including the way his cheeks were tinged with a red hue. "You've said too much already."
And from that moment on, you began to feel relaxed, even pleased with all the things Patrick revealed to you, accidentally or not, you would use every little detail to your own advantage when the time came.
A little later, when the waiter finally brought your cocktail, you finished it too quickly, so you asked for it to be repeated under the attentive hazel eyes of the man sitting on the other side of the table. The more drunk you got, the more topics you discussed, but when you mentioned Paul Allen again, you noticed that Patrick's good mood was fading.
"Wait a minute!" You held out a hand to stop him from jumping from one topic to another. "Can you tell me why the mere mention of Paul Allen triggers you so much? Is there something between you two?"
Bateman couldn't hold back a loud, hearty laugh. "That joke's too tasteless even for Bryce," he finished his whiskey, the salad still untouched on the table in front of him. "Allen…he's…not the person he tries to pretend to be."
"Oh?"
"I think he's part of that Yale thing."
You narrowed your eyes and leaned in closer. "Yale thing? What do you mean?"
Patrick quickly licked his lips, not expecting you to delve further into the subject. "Well, I think he's probably a closeted homosexual who likes to do a lot of coke and have orgies with male hookers."
At first you just giggled out loud, not caring that some people were looking at you, but then your face suddenly became serious. "How do you know about that? Did he tell you or…" you smiled playfully. "Did he do something… that made you think so," you bit your lower lip and drank the last drop of your cocktail with unabashed thirst. "That sounds strange…very strange."
"You're drunk, (y/n)," Bateman murmured, tilting his hand as if thinking about something. "Too drunk, which gives me the impression that you're as much of an amateur at drinking as you are at doing coke."
"Uh, s-shut up."
"See? Can't even speak words."
"Maybe...maybe I am drunk, now what? Are you gonna be a fucking gentleman like you always try to be and offer me a ride? Or maybe," you fixed your hair nonchalantly, your vision slightly blurred. "Would you be brave enough to show me your apartment?"
As soon as those words came out of your mouth, you knew there was no turning back, and your inner voice, which usually kept you from doing shit you would regret, seemed to fall asleep from the high level of alcohol in your system.
The man across from you straightened up at your bold suggestion, reading the subtext with ease. "Is that what you want? For me to take you to my place?"
His question hung in the air for a moment before you managed to come up with an answer, but you didn't know how to get out of this situation and turn it into a joke, as you usually did. Maybe you just didn't want to get out of it? Just like you didn't want to let him go when he helped you get up from the table after he'd paid for dinner and the two of you were in a cab. Not to mention when you almost fell down and the man caught you in his arms, but there was still a barrier between the two of you—an invisible wall—the only line that kept you apart. The line that was too dangerous to cross, but too tempting not to think about what lay behind it.
By the time the cab pulled up at the American Gardens Building, you were half asleep on Bateman's shoulder, his Lancome cologne not helping at all, making your mind even more cloudy. But you did your best to get out of the car without his help, letting the cool fresh air bring you some relief and clarity. 
In the elevator, Patrick began to mumble about his musical preferences, but you didn't really pay attention because your brain was overworked trying to come up with a plan B in case things went too far. 'As if they hadn't gone too far already,' your inner voice suddenly tried to break through the thick layers of alcohol, affection and uncontrollable desire.
Bateman's apartment looked exactly as you had imagined—opulent, stylish, and very minimalist. Everything seemed to be in its place, including you, standing next to the tall window in his living room.
"Not a bad view," you admitted, taking off the jacket of your suit. "Not Central Park, but not bad at all."
"Central Park?" Patrick asked, hiding in the kitchen, which was perfectly connected to the living room, but you couldn't see him behind the wall as he examined the large number of different kitchen knives.
"Yeah, you know, Paul Allen's apartment faces Central Park, looks really fancy," you didn't mean to hurt Bateman's feelings, but the moment you turned around and saw him, it was obvious that your words had reached him. "But, I really prefer your place...it's more modern for my taste."
Puzzled, Patrick didn't hurry to join you in the living room, his thin fingers never ceasing to slide up and down the sharp blade in his hand, but at the very last moment, the man put the knife back in its place. With deliberate steps, he walked out of the kitchen and approached his stereo system.
"Really?" He asked in disbelief, as if his life depended on your answer.
Such a reaction from him was oddly appealing, the vulnerability, the desperation in his brown eyes. This was a level of satisfaction that no drug could ever match. Meanwhile, Bateman turned on the music, the charming voice of Phil Collins filling the room as "Invisible Touch" began to play.
The man was examining the tape in his hands when you slowly approached and gently cupped his face, inducing him to look at you. "Yes, I do," you confirmed your previous words, and when Patrick didn't flinch from your touch, you decided to go on, tracing your finger along his sensual lips, fighting the urge to kiss them here and now. "Speaking of preferences," you removed your hand only to place it on the lapel of his suit. "Would you be a good boy and give me a full tour of your apartment, including the bedroom?"
In any other situation, you would probably die from shame at saying something like that, but not now. Not with him, because no sooner had your question escaped your lips than you noticed that his hands were shaking, and the CD was about to fall out of them, so you had to gently grab it and pull it out of his hands. Bateman reminded you of a man struggling with addiction, every twitch of his plump lips, every furrow of his perfect eyebrows spoke volumes about the undeniable affection between the two of you, an affection you were both too exhausted to fight and hide.
Without further ado, you placed the CD on top of the stereo and pressed Patrick against the nearest wall, holding the lapels of his Valentino suit and sealing his hot mouth with yours, opening it wider with your tongue, so eager to taste him again after such a long wait.
"Mmhm," he purred into the kiss, his hands desperately wrapped around your waist, then going lower to cradle your hips, groping and squeezing a little too hard so that you had to bite his lip to make him stop, but the man just growled and pushed you closer, your groins rubbing against each other in the most lewd way possible. "Bedroom...go to the bedroom...and wait for me there."
Bateman's words right after the kiss sounded like nonsense, which you found oddly arousing. With a foxy smile, you licked his cheek, then his neck, almost biting the artery and sucking on the reading mark. "No, no, no, Bateman," you shook your head, grabbing his neck slightly to kiss him again, but he did it first. Even now Patrick was trying to take the lead, your tongues fighting for control like two snakes entwining around each other. "I'm in no mood for games or waiting."
The moment you said it, Bateman lifted you with practiced ease as if you weighed nothing, and you didn't even have a chance to protest as he began to move toward the closed room behind his white couch. In his arms, you finally felt complete, even if you let him take the lead for a while. Noticing the pair of panties on the glass coffee table, you wrapped your legs around him and buried your fingers in his silky hair, ruffling them and letting them fall on his forehead, making him look even hotter.
Jesus, you were on the verge of an explosion just from the foreplay alone.
Bateman's bedroom greeted you with stark white walls, the brightness of which was almost painful to look at as he turned on the light holding you with one arm, and the king-size bed on which he carefully placed you, but you didn't let him pull away, tugging at his tie and forcing him to lay on top of you.
"Fuck, look at you," Patrick grazed your earlobe before massaging your chest through your shirt and hovering over you. "So insatiable, aren't you? Running in circles like a trapped kitten."
Growling, you pulled him closer again to suck on his lower lip, letting your body rub against his so you could feel how hard he was, so painfully hard, considering the sound he made when you snaked your hand between his legs to cradle his bulge. "Are you gonna cum in your pants if I don't stop?"
With a determined persistence, you continued to massage his hard cock through the layers of his expensive clothes as you removed his jacket and then his suspenders, one by one. Bateman didn't interfere as he was also busy getting rid of your clothes without actually tearing them apart.
"Let me," you insisted as soon as you noticed him struggling to unbutton your shirt. "This is my favorite shirt, you know," you gasped, your own fingers trembling, making it difficult even for you to finally remove your shirt. "I don't want it to get torn."
When you finally got rid of the top part of your clothes, the sight of your exposed skin made Patrick grunt in hunger, and the next second the man was already sucking on your nipple, his muscular frame shaking on top of you from your teasing ministrations on his twitching dick and hard balls. Damn, you wanted to suck him dry as much as you wanted to ruin him until he forgot his own name.
"Don't like it anyway," Bateman muttered suddenly, holding your hands above your head. "You need to go to some... fashion shows... maybe you will have more free time in Chicago, considering Paul Allen offered you this job. I'm sure it would be some boring shit."
‘Good Lord, he mentioned him again…’ You rolled your eyes and turned away from his face, eliciting a low rumble from Patrick's massive chest. "What the fuck is wrong with Paul... are you... jealous of him or something?"
"Me?" he asked, confused and you took the opportunity to release your hands and roll over so that you were now on top of him. "I'm not the one bragging about having dinner with him in fucking Dorsia!"
Bateman sounded like a little boy who was upset that no one wanted to play with him, which made you giggle, but then you straddled him and opened his white shirt and removed his tie.
"The more you talk," you murmured as you ran your hands along the smooth skin of his torso, paying special attention to his toned pecs and abs. "The more you make me think you two had a history," you leaned down to teasingly lick his lips, your sneaky hands already working on the zipper of his pants. "But still, I don't care." In one swift motion, you pulled down his pants along with his boxers, watching his thick cock pop out, yearning for your attention. "Mhmm, the last time we were alone you worked me up really good, I wanna return the favor," your hands wrapped around the base of his beefy shaft, the small droplets of his pre-cum already covering its tip, forcing you to lick your lips in hunger. "If you have nothing else on your mind?"
Did you really care about his feelings since you asked him that question? 
The man beneath you was definitely growing impatient, his hands gripping your hips as if he was about to imprint his fingerprints on your skin if you were not wearing your pants. 
"Lie on your side," Bateman suggested suddenly. "Take off all your clothes and lie down here," he tapped the spot next to him and you stood up quickly, as if he had cast a spell on you. Never in your life did you get rid of your clothes faster than now. "Uh, what a cute ass you have, (y/n)."
You frowned at his words, giving him your dead stare as you slipped out of your underwear, giving him the full view—the glint in his hazel eyes was too much to ignore—so you turned around and presented yourself to him; Bateman couldn't help but lazily stroked himself, putting a hand under his head. 
"Tell me, Bateman," you began, your hands slowly sliding down your bare skin. "Have you been thinking about me all this time?" You cupped your ass, bending over a little so he could see the spot right between your legs. "Or have you found a way to forget things you don't want to remember?"
He swallowed hard and closed his eyes for a second. "I wish there was a way to forget." Patrick murmured and watched as you lay on your side in the 69 position, then he did the same, his hot breath scorching the soft flesh between your thighs. 
You wrapped your hands around his hips and eagerly took his drooling dick in your mouth, while he was lapping at your crotch. "Mm-fuck," you jerked against his face, your fingers digging deeper into his skin as Bateman feasted on you like the most delicious meal. "Me too, Bateman, m-me too."
Having said that, you swirled your tongue around the swollen tip of his veiny cock, causing a muffled moan to erupt from his mouth, its vibration sending shivers down the base of your spine, only spurring you on to go further, pushing his dick deeper into your mouth. Soon the room was filled with the soft, wet sounds of your shared oral pleasure, punctuated by soft but powerful moans and groans as you both teetered on the edge of ecstasy. Gripping your ass, Bateman responded to your actions with the same passion, devouring every drop of your flavor and giving you no chance to escape, his strong arms like ropes around your body. After giving his cock the attention it deserved, you decided to tease his heavy balls with light lapping on them, before slipping a finger inside his tight ass, you expected him to protest but instead you heard him moan and the next moment his hips began to move towards your penetrating movements.
"Good boy," you praised him, rolling your eyes at the way the man was sucking on your most sensitive spot. "Taking my finger so well..."
The coil in your lower abdomen was about to snap at any moment, but you still wanted more, you wanted to feel that cock inside you, even if it was going to rip you a apart. Breathlessly, you didn't even remember asking him about condoms, and how you managed to get out of bed and go to the closet, where you found a little box Bateman was talking about—its contents almost made you gasp in awe, so you decided to take it with you.
"Well, well," you crooned as you stepped back into the bedroom. "Should I ask you what this is or are you going to tell me?"
With a wide grin, you held out a large purple dildo, Patrick's eyes twitched and he gulped, leaning on his elbows. "I... I use it with hookers," the man confessed, licking his glistening lips covered with your juices. "Why?"
"Hmmm, you like watching women play with it?" You asked as you reached the bed. "How about actually using it and not just watching?"
Damn, you could swear you saw his breath catch in his throat, his muscles tense and his dick throbbing just at the mention of using that sex toy on him. 'So he likes that idea, what a naughty boy,' you chuckled to yourself and took your place on the bed next to him. "This is going to feel so good, baby," you brought the dildo to his lips, suggesting that he lick it for lubrication, and when he did, you could barely keep yourself from cumming, just from the sight of his tongue flicking around the tip of the silicone sex toy. "Get on your knees and let me take care of you."
"Fuck," Bateman cursed, but it was too late to turn back. Embarrassed but extremely aroused, the man got down on all fours and gave you full access to his firm ass, which you immediately fondled, spreading his buttocks and biting them one by one. "Mmh-hmm, (y/n)."
"Relax," you stroked his hips, kissing the lower part of his back just above the dimples that were too sexy to ignore. "God, you have such a beautiful body," you decided to praise him, knowing the effect it would have on him. "I would worship it forever if I could," which was only half true, or maybe...it was not. Leisurely, you showered his soft skin with little peaks here and there, dotting it with your marks of love, not even realizing that you were giving all of yourself to the process.
As you pressed the tip of the dildo against his puckered muscle ring, Patrick tensed at your touch, gripping the sheets and closing his eyes, so overwhelmed and confused at the same time, but your reassuring hand on his trembling one encouraged him to look back at you as you hovered over him to kiss his lips, his neck, his shoulder.
"(Y/n)," Bateman suddenly huffed through his clenched teeth. "I want you to..." he gasped as you flickered your wet finger around his tight asshole. "...fuck."
"You want me to feast on that delicious ass of yours?" You finished the sentence for him, grinning in pure gratification at his complete submission. "Is that what you want?"
"Yeah, y-yes," he grasped the sheets and positioned himself more comfortably on all fours— a clear sign that he was not used to this position and you couldn't miss it. "I want to feel your tongue... all over me."
"Shit, Bateman, you're a real sweet talker." With that you put the dildo on the bed next to you and before you knew it you were spreading his ass cheeks wide open to make a flat lick along his tight hole. "I wanna hear you," you gently but insistently probed his ass with your warm tongue, giving him several slaps on the buttocks that drove the man wild as you felt his velvet walls tighten around your tongue. "Good boy, c'mon, spread it out for me."
Blushing, Patrick used both hands to spread himself for your eager ministrations as you fucked him with your tongue while your hands traveled all around his hips before you wrapped one of them around his pulsating cock, fuck, he was so close, you could tell by the way his balls tensed when you gave them a slight squeeze.
"Don't cum until I let you," you commented and the next moment you were already pushing the sleek sex toy into his ass and this time he accepted it gradually, taking it in with ease—the sight made you gasp but you focused on giving him pleasure. "Tell me, Bateman, how does it feel?"
The question remained unanswered for a brief moment as you began to slid the dildo in and out, stimulating his prostate and causing him to shake and whimper in pure bliss, but when you decided to add fuel to the fire by jerking him off and sucking on his strained sac, Patrick could barely contain himself, his legs about to give way at any moment.
"F-fuck, a-aahhh, mmhhmm," he murmured into the pillow, his hands finding their way to your messy hair, gripping them almost to the point of pain. "I...c-can't...hold...it any longer," Bateman's wailing bounced off the walls of his luxurious bedroom, which had never seen anything like it before. "I..."
Though you wanted him to last longer, you were too overwhelmed yourself, feeling the string in your belly ready to burst. "Let it go," your words were like a balm to his ears as, just a moment later, his cock pulsed in your grasp, spraying loads of his thick cum across the Chinese sheets that Patrick had always been so fond of. "That's it…" You didn't stop fucking him with a dildo, nor did you stop pumping his throbbing dick, milking it until the last drop of his seed. "Good boy, you're such a good boy." 
Panting, you pulled out the sex toy, covered in his slick, and brought it to his trembling lips, inducing him to suck it before taking it into your mouth, feeling the mixture of tastes on the tip of your tongue. Then, Bateman rolled onto his back, desperately gasping for air, his cock still hard. That was fucking phenomenal, but you didn't comment, thinking about your own orgasm at last. Locking your eyes with Patrick's hazel ones, you touched yourself the moment he beckoned you over, and without words, you mounted his flushed, sweaty face, riding it as desperately as you could, using his tongue and lips without shame. Tilting your head back, you grabbed his head and almost clawed at his scalp, feeling your insides about to fucking explode from the tension. So when you peaked, your scream could be heard all over Bateman's apartment. The orgasms you had before were nothing compared to this. It took everything from you, it made you die and rise again.
The final chord of the parade of shameless lust was when you let him fuck you in a way you didn't even expect. Spooning you from behind after he put the condom on, the man lifted your leg and sheathed himself inside of you till the hilt, making you feel so full you had to wrinkle the fabric underneath, but that was just the beginning as Bateman pulled you closer, trapping you in his arms like a cocoon, his tongue sliding around your ear shell with undisguised affection,
"Mmhmm, fuck, you're...so perfect," the man whispered into your ear, setting up the pace and resting his hand between your legs for extra stimulation. "Holy fuck! I'm cumming again, omh-shit..."
"Fuck m-me, yeah, just...l-like that...a-ahhh," you coaxed him to fuck you harder as you suddenly found yourself on the verge of climaxing again. "Gimme everything, baby, a-awww...goshhhhhhhh," you were the first to fall over the principle of pleasure, twitching along his body as if you were hit by the electric shock, all your nerves were on fire. "Bateman, mmhm-fuck-fuck! Your dick feels s-so good.."
Your vivid orgasm became the last straw for his second release as you felt him bite at your neck, his buffed frame shaking in spasms of pure rapture, you even had to hold back a scream from how painfully Patrick's hands squeezed your hips, but it was pleasurable pain of being ruined, of being fucked into a wet mess. Barely breathing, you didn't even remember how you passed out from exhaustion and for the first time in the last few days you fell asleep completely satisfied and happy.
When the first rays of sunlight crept through the blinds into Bateman's bedroom, you were already awake, as was he, but since you were lying with your back to his face, you didn't notice until the man kissed your shoulder, snuggled up against your neck, and made you roll over to face him.
As you did so, you dared to look directly into the brown eyes still clouded by the aftermath of your shared pleasure. "Hey." He muttered in a husky voice.
"Hey," you murmured back, hugging the pillow. "Did you sleep well?"
“Surprisingly—yes," the man stretched his arms, flexing his muscles and checking himself in the mirror on the other side of the room, which you hadn't even noticed. "(Y/n), I want you to go to the office and tell everyone that you're not going anywhere."
Shocked, you blinked several times, not knowing what to say as you hadn't expected anything like this.
With a nervous chuckle that turned into a hearty laugh, you rolled onto your back before sitting up on the bed. "Oh God, you're such a little Delulu, it's even funny," you looked at him—his face was nothing but a blank space without any visible emotions. "Did you really think that random sex would change my mind about changing jobs?" You chuckled again, louder this time. "I mean, the sex was really good, but... it's not like I'm going to give everything for this, you know?" With that, you got up from the bed and wrapped a blanket around yourself. "Can I take a shower?”
Trapped in the thought that only he could know, Patrick rolled onto his back, his eyes fixed on an invisible spot on the ceiling above him. "Yes," he murmured, barely audible. "Do whatever you want."
Walking towards the bathroom, you suddenly stopped and turned half around. "You better forget it," you said, savoring every word and finally returning the favor. "Maybe ask Paul Allen for advice," you grinned as you watched Bateman close his eyes in a feeble attempt to distance himself from everything that had happened. "Maybe he knows something about memory reboot machines that can help."
Without waiting for his answer, you continued on your way to the bathroom. Even though you were pleased with yourself, your revenge didn't taste sweet, but bitter, and its bitterness would remain on the tip of your tongue even after you washed yourself clean under the hot streams of water.
But the game was worth the candle, as they said.
Was it?
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P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!
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seventhcallisto · 3 days
Text
A PROMISE IS A SWEAR ! giom — chpt. 1
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Synopsis. Matz gains a new district and a new member. The same member who trails a bunny to the den and introduces the beginning of obsession for the leaders.
Warnings. Violence. Physical harm. Und3rag3 tattooing. Teenagers(that needs it's own tw). Gang symbols. cigarett3 b3rn. Harm. And emotional harm and arguing. Please read giom masterlist before continuing.
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Tuesday.
Positively, you were furious. After a not so nice call from a local man you know —your neighbor to be exact— you were mumbling up a storm. Excusing yourself through the last hour of your job just so you could catch a certain someone in the act.
With your work uniform on and a scowl on your face. Hiking up a hill through a run-down alleyway full of creeps and illegal activities. You finally caught sight of the person you'd been there to catch.
"Get off of me!" You snatched the teenager up by his arm, pinching him through his hoodie. "Jihoon, if you don't walk your skinny ass legs down this hill, I'll drag you," you stomped your heel clad foot, whisper yelling at the young man.
Jihoon was always causing problems, so threatening him like this was most likely not going to get him to listen. His face shriveled up. "You're not my mom!" He hissed back, equally furious - most likely due to the fact you had just pulled him from his group of boyfriends. Right in the middle of selling a pair of off branded shoes- and as soon as they saw you - pretended nothing was going on.
Irritation, through a false guise of shock, littered their faces as you tore and prodded the younger man away from his group of mis fit friends.
"Lee Jihoon," you whisper yelled to him this time, turning his body towards you. You take on the anger in his eyes with a frustrated scowl to clash. "Go and tell your friends you'll see them later, We're going home."
His face was turning red from embarrassment. But he knew you wouldn't back down, especially how stubborn he knows you to be. He smacked your palm off his jacket, huffing out a breath of air and turning towards the group he's with.
Within a few more seconds, he was storming past you. Hunched and full of anger as he made his way out of the entrance of the alleyway.
"Do you understand what you're doing, jihoon? It's illegal!" His footsteps rang loud on the wood of the apartment, ignoring your words- hardly bothering to take off his shoes at the entrance.
Before you could get out another frantic sentence out, he was turning his entire body your way, a snarl to his lips that resembled a dog. "What does it matter!? You're never home anyway! The cops can't pin shit on me-"
"Watch your mouth!" You yelled back, eyes widening. "I'm never home cause I am working! Don't you get that? These nice things you have- the school you go to! I have to pay for all of it somehow!" You gestured to his bedroom, posters and nick nacks littered about. "If I don't work, you can't have these things," your eyebrows furrowed. It was always so frustrating talking to him- with the exact copy of his mother's attitude.
He scoffed, "Whatever" he walked away from you, closing his door with a harsh slam.
These little outbursts would burn and simmer, like the crust on a volcano.
You stepped outside- to have a moment to yourself. Calming down from such a heightened situation- it wasn't good for you to let it bubble. But with jihoon- raising him, it was hard.
The silence of the evening gave you some peace of mind. And despite the situation of your day. You were beginning to feel relaxed, listening to the crickets and the distant sound of cars- cats- and the occasional dog barking.
"Tough day?" Changbin beckoned your attention, his large arms crossed over the balcony, you glanced to your door, having realized he heard everything.
"Yes- well, tough to my standards anyway." You laughed lightly, sighing. Changbin tilted his head at you, taking a long drag of his cigarette. "If it helps.. I know a lot of guys who went through this rebellious phase." he gestured to your apartment door, seemingly talking about jihoon. "They usually outgrow it, yknow, teenagers always act out. I know, I sure did."
You chortle at that. Palming your head as you looked out over the city, finally, you turned to meet changbins eyes, his presence having grown closer, right next to you on the railing. Comfortably, you sat with him for a second longer. "You? Rebellious?" You grinned. The fun- gentle man next to you, the one you've known for at least four years. And still have yet to properly get to know each other.
He laughed, his face scrunching. "What? Do I not seem rebellious enough?" He nudged your shoulder with his elbow, pouting. You laughed again. "No, no, I just wasn't expecting that, considering you're a -" You stopped short, remembering what jihoon had said earlier, you cleared your throat in the silence. He finished for you, glancing out to the city as well. "A cop?"
He leaned back over the railing with a sigh, nodding his head. "I heard that too. He's a bit cocky, considering he lives next to one." Changbin murmured. You shook your head, embarrassed on behalf of the teenager under your care. "I'm sorry-" "don't be. I gave my mom a hard time, too. He'll learn." The man shrugged off your apology, another drag of his cigarette, before he dabbed it out, fiddling with the end.
"But I'm not his mom. He has a reason to give me a hard time." You sighed heavily, letting the words flow before you cut them off, biting your lip. Changbin noticed, he's a keen man, a detailed man, it was a part of his job. He shook his head, twisting his body towards you.
Before he could come up with a sentence, you smiled gently. "Thanks for calling me, I hate when he does that" you groaned, remembering how upsetting it was to witness the young man attempt to brute force his way into getting another schoolmate to buy the pair of shoes they laid out.
Whatever jihoon had been doing wasn't legal. And you knew- you know. So, of course, changbin would know too - he was a cop after all, a detective to be exact, it was his job to notice these things. "Maybe a little juvie would do him some good," you sighed, a poor attempt at a joke- yet changbin still laughed heartily.
"If you need someone to scare the piss outta him, let me know, I've got a few people in mind." Changbin pocketed the end of his cigarette, bumping your elbow with his just as he left.
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Wednesday. Always full of woe.
The downpour of rain filtered out the chatter of the company hongjoong was kept in. Barked laughter and forced smiles as the people around him conversed. The only person to take any interest in it was on his right. Seonghwa could make up excuses for the lack of attention his partner was providing. But the grin on the peak of hongjoongs cupids bow was driving Hwa wild with curiosity.
"What has you so happy?" The taller of the two murmured under his breath, his companion heard it - and with a clear of his throat, peaked over his glasses to the dark-haired man. "I'll tell you later"
Seonghwa sighed, bringing his glass of champagne to his lips. "Later couldn't come sooner," he replied with a sigh.
Hongjoong was in a better mood than he had been any other time of the week, with the stress that comes with a business- especially as big as this one- he could finally catch a breath of fresh air.
With one long sigh, the car door finally snapped shut, with seonghwa sitting right beside him.
"Where to?" Jongho, the leaders trusted men (and occasional driver) asked as he glanced through the rear view mirror, his brown hair framing his eyes. Hongjoongs smile perked up, seonghwa had noticed. "You know where jongho" hongjoong waved his question off with a smile, shrugging into his large fur coat.
Seonghwas attention turned back to the blonde seated next to him. "So? Where to?" Seonghwa copied jongho, questioning the shorter- yet beaming man. Hongjoong shifted in his seat, his grin faltering when his tongue poked his cheek. "You'll see." hongjoong kept the secret, seonghwa could argue– but it was typical of the younger to be so secretive sometimes.
Once the sleek black car had rolled to a stop. The evening had set, and finally, the moon was beginning to cast its beams across the streets. Seonghwa took notice of the passing buildings. Unease, unsure of the surroundings- matz hadn't stepped this far out of their comfort zone in a while unless there was a meeting. So the rural area, compared to the city, was a stark contrast to his scenery setting.
Practically bouncing out of his seat, hongjoong ushered seonghwa out of his own as soon as the fur covered man swung open his door. Of course- he was happy about something. And seonghwa was beginning to have a clue.
His eyebrow tilted up at the bubbly, shade wearing man- contrasting against seonghwa who was dressed in the best suit for the earlier occasion. He pocketed his hands, watching hongjoong with curious eyes.
In his right, hongjoong spun with the proudest grin on his face. Gesturing to the open area, a park, where seonghwa had recalled only ever passing by once- back when they were meeting with another acquaintance. Hongjoong beckoned the older man over, lacing his hands over a railing, with one other foot on the steps. He stood proudly over the peering hill, a grin still prominent on his face.
Ah. That's what it was. "You could have just told me," seonghwa mentioned with a sigh, running his hand over his hair and fixing any loose threads. Joong chuckled, "it wouldn't be special that way" he sighed, leaning on the railing- childishly, unable to sit still. Seonghwa laughed airily. "I suppose so, considering it's a wide district." Seonghwa murmured, taking his spot next to the blonde.
Hongjoong shifted his body towards the taller, still looking out over the railing at the quiet below. "It's ours now." Hongjoong whispered, almost unable to believe it himself- crime wasn't easy in this area, the cops were strict, which ended up with tight attitudes and unwilling participants.
But finally, hongjoong found a willing distributor, and he seemed permanent for the time being- until he could be replaced.
"I've got a few of them out here already, watching." Hongjoong gestures to four distinct areas, seonghwa perched his arms on the rail. Glittery lights catching every which way. He turned his attention back to the ecstatic man. "And who's watching them?" He hummed.
There was hardly any trust for the underlings, not to say they weren't loyal to the cause, just that they were easily swayed and amateurs, so of course, seonghwa had to ask.
"Mingi"
Seonghwa took in a hiss of breath, the most loyal of all- a little clumsy though. Hongjoong could sense seonghwas thought. "This one is his. He practically begged for it." Joong sniffled a laugh, recalling the plead of the other member. "He said he could take care of it."
There was a silence for a moment before seonghwa spoke up.
"Do you trust him?" He asked. Hongjoong tilted his head, sliding his glasses to lay on the top of his head. He turned his face towards seonghwa for the first time during their conversation, and nodded.
"I trust you, don't I?" Hongjoong answered.
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Thursday.
The following day was just as bad as you thought. Things may seem easier the next morning. But jihoon had still ignored you, even as you prepared him a breakfast along with his fresh uniform. A scowl on his pouty- still childish face. It made you want to turn in and wave the white flag.
So, when you sit at the empty kitchen table, staring at the packaged food –that had been coldly left behind– and reminiscing on how you could hardly get the same treatment from your parents growing up, do you begin to feel the ache of missing your best friend.
You couldn't dwell on it. Not when you had work.
Jihoon is as difficult as his mother. Purgatory thoughts playing in your mind over and over. Although your best friend Lia wasn't shy from being mean - borderline - a bully, she was still loyal and caring, and she loved jihoon. She would have had the best lines to say and tell; to convince him to get his act straight. But she wasn't here. And as his godmother, you had the responsibility to play mommy.
You really wished she was here. She'd know how to take care of these things. You've always been the softer one in the duo.
It's past 12, and you have an early shift tomorrow. You sit at the kitchen table, dazed and daydreaming as you wait. When you think over what could be happening, bile rises in your stomach. Jihoon hasn't returned home, and his phone is apparently off. He has been gone for hours. More so than usual.
What can you even do?
The front door is quietly unlocked in the silence.
You spring from the kitchen chair, watching the door be pushed in, followed by a hooded figure who doesn't bother to flicker on any of the lights.
Your hands are spinning him around the next second, although jihoon is taller than you- the veracity of your movement tugs him to face you.
You pull the hood down next, glaring his bruised face in-between broken orbs and clenched teeth, looking at the fresh cuts along his lip and nose. "Where have you been?" You say, as calmly as you can muster. Jihoons shoulders fall. "Out," he mustered, shrugging his shoulder past you to pull off his jacket.
You pull him back by his upper arm before he can go any farther. He winces but makes no move to push you off. His head is tilted towards the floor, and his breathing is labored - tired from whatever activity he had just gotten up to.
"Jihoon, your mom wouldn't want this -" his hand snakes out of your grasp as if you burnt him. "What did you just say?" He scoffs, clicking his tongue. You don't falter. "Yo-" "No, no, you don't get to do that. You don't get to use that against me cause I don't even know what she was like." You go to cut him off. "You know that's not true-"
His foot meets the stool as he kicks it frustrated, a silent curse coming from his mouth.
"I don't know if anything you say is true, I don't even know if you're really someone she'd leave me with to take care of. It's all just bullshit anyway, right?" His snarky tone wavers, his throat pinching close the longer he stays on this subject.
"I'm going to bed" he brushes you off once more when you attempt to reach out.
And you have the same lump in your throat. You don't know what to say yourself. You don't know how to fix this. You don't know what you're doing.
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Friday.
Halfway through your shift, do you get another dreadful call- voice-mail this time, since you can't answer your phone during school hours. On the other end is changbin- but this time, he's just dropping information off for you.
"Hey y/n, I'm sorry to be telling you this, but -" he takes a heavy sigh, "one of my colleagues told me about seeing a kid similar to jihoon.. coming from this new operation we're in the middle of. It's a big nightclub - full of colors - hell, you can see it from a mile away, so just ask around. It just got up and running, we - don't tell anyone I said this - but we're looking at charges if he happens to be caught in there. It's not safe for him. that's all. Call me when you get this- we can go together. Do not go on your own. I'll talk to you later."
The end of Friday is full of dread. The streets are full of characters for the night. Fools and drunks and corner girls and the occasional normal group of friends, no matter who it is- you ask.
"The club full of bright lights?"
A man finally repeats your question. He's not entirely sober, nor is he blackout either. He points over his shoulder, giving lazy directions. But as you go, you thank him. Changbin was right. You couldn't miss it from a mile now that you were in a neighboring alleyway- heaving from having run everywhere to find this place.
The front is guarded with men in jackets, smoking cigarettes, and scaring the stragglers who stare a little longer than they should.
You power through, attempting to blend in with a crowd of rowdy girls who are easily let in- You're stopped by the collar of your shirt, pulled out of it and faced to face with a scarred man, eyeing you up and down.
"Are you trying to sneak in? Hey, why didn't you just ask to be let in? What kind of shit are ya trying to pull?" His heavy palm smacks your cheek, pat pat, your skin reverbs from the tiny hits- its a slap to your pride in a way. You scowl at the stranger.
"Theres someone in there I need to get" you defend yourself, pushing the man off your collar. His snarky grin drops into a scowl, the cigarette dangling from the corner of his lip dangerously. "I'm not buying that princess." The man flicks the ash your way, glancing to the other man on the door.
Your appearance is a contrast to everyone else. Your in your best dress for parent-teacher day, having cut it short to find jihoon. You stick out like a sore thumb. Fuck. You're really not getting past this guy.
You had to do something.
"He's underage! He's a kid, a kid shouldnt be in there- If I can't go in and get him- I'm gonna call the cops!" You're making a scene now- you're panicking, you have no idea if jihoon is okay, no idea whether or not he's doing drugs or getting himself hurt.
You're scared for him. But the glance in both of the men's eyes is your top worry. Threats about the cops coming around seems to gather attention, onlookers glancing your way and beginning to crowd the front door. "Cops?" The first man laughs, snatching your arm up with an icy grip that has you hissing in pain. "Are you threatening us? Ma'am, that's not proper. We're running a business here." His tone is attempting to be lighthearted, but the danger behind his grip and smile is driving the breath out of your lungs.
You're dragged inside by the same guy, the lights, the music- everything screams danger with this situation, not only that but the faces- the troubled people around here is nothing safe. You catch glimpses of people snorting different color substances off each table, tiny shiny and distinct pills littered around. Smoke and the burning smell of cigarettes- and something else, something heavy and damp, funky smelling. Earthy. You body makes contact with the door to a room and you're pushed into it abruptly.
Your feet stumble forward towards the middle of the room, where you finally find your balance. Cards are placed on a wide and round glass table and this place smells the worse of the earthy smoke, it clings to every surface, making you cough. When you do, the man in the center of the red velvet couch in front of you peaks up over his glasses.
His hair is white- silver almost, long enough to tuck behind his ears. He gestures with a ringed finger to the man with you to speak.
"She's threatening to talk to the cops."
"She a regular?"
"No, never seen her around here before"
The silver haired man takes a heavy sigh,, he parts from the woman and men around him to meet you face to face. He's tall- intimidating. His height is no joke. He scans you up and down with dark eyes. Emotions you can't grasp on his features.
Whoever the people are, they aren't bothering to look your way, quiet and head down. Sheep's amongst a wolf. He's obviously in charge here. "Look- I don't know who you are but you have kids in here- this isn't a place they should be-"
The flicker of a lighter sounds through the quiet room. The sound of music muffled behind the door gaurded by the man and another. You watch the silver haired stranger take a drag of a cigarette after flipping his lighter closed, the red pulse of light igniting in front of you, it silences you quickly.
"Listen." He starts with a hum, nodding his head as the smoke hits your face, he takes your hand in his, gently patting his large, calloused fingers over yours. You hesitate to let him have it, unsure of his motive. "I understand your concern, but we don't have kids here sweetheart, we don't allow that. Youth is important to our future, right? Isn't that what everyone thinks?" He glances around shortly, switching out the hand holding the cigarette to cage your palm in-between. You can feel the heat of it, see the ash starting to form at the top.
"That's not true." You whisper. His eyes squint. "You calling me a liar?" He murmurs, stepping closer.
"I'm calling bullshit" you hold your head high.
It's silent. Air so tense and thick, you can't tell if it's the smoke or the feeling lingering in your chest. But this man, he's not safe. None of this is. And you're really testing your luck here. "I need-" you start again. But the sudden burn of specks on the back of your hand makes you whimper in pain, attempting to draw back your limb from the man.
He holds it tightly in his, flicking ash onto the back of it, the sting makes you hiss, before he brings the cigarette back to his full lips, your fingers pale from the force.
He takes a drag, blowing it in your face once again.
"I don't like being called a liar." He pouts into his words, dusting the ash across your skin with his thumb, a warning at most. But it stings slightly when he flips your palm over to examine the lines.
"You come in here and threaten my place, I've only been nice to you this entire time." He holds his free hand over his heart. "What do you want exactly, sweetheart?" He squints down at you. The nickname makes your stomach lurch uncomfortably.
"I told the guy at the front. There's someone in here i need-" "and who is that someone?" You go quiet, squinting up your nose at him. He stares back for the next seconds. One.. two.. three-
There's the stinging burn to your palm, it aches and you screech in pain. Attempting to bring your hand back from the heat. A cigarette that is searing into the soft skin in the middle of your palm. You wail at it, a pain so uncomfortable you forgot it even felt real. The ash darkens when he puts it out. Smearing it across your palm. His eyes are unlike what you've seen, no remorse or mercy, just evil.
"I'm not going to ask again. Giving me attitude when I've been sweet-" "i-im not please-" you beg, anything to stop the pain and sting on your palm, to get the man before you to stop before he does something else, something worse. "Shh, quiet, I'm talking." he pats his palm over the open wound. You whimper once more, tears welling in your eyes. It hurts.
Before his lips fall open again. The door behind you swings open.
It's the other man from the front door. Followed by.. a few individuals, you can hardly see with the blur in your eyes.
"Raeun?" The second man to walk through questions. He's taller- his body adorned in what seems to be the closest thing to a suit. A pair of glasses and short- almost buzzcut black and blonde hair. Raeun- the man who grips your palm looses his grip, and you pull it as quickly as you can to your chest.
"Mingi" he huffs. "Come to join so soon?" He laughs, glancing to you. The man, from towards the entrance does the same. "Yeah, Came as soon as I got the go ahead" mingi replies plainly, walking further into the room. "Leave" he gestures to the people across the couch.
An array of limbs and people pass you, but- when you turn to leave, you're stopped by him. "You, stay." Mingi swings his finger out to call you over to him. Gesturing to the couch.
You really don't know what's going on. But mingi is gentle as he grabs your palm, glancing for approval- you don't respond.
"Seonghwa said no more burns, whats this then?" Mingi tilts the wound towards raeun. The same man scoffs. "She said she was gonna call the cops." "And you think this was gonna stop her?" Mingi groans, letting your hand go. You cradle it back to your chest, watching the tall man step up to raeun.
"Get your shit and go, you're out" mingi turns on his heel, stepping back out of the silver man's way to let him leave. Raeun scoffs loudly, "you can't kick me out of here, I made this place what it is-"
"Yeah and where did that lead you?" Mingi waves his hand out to the club. Raeuns face drops even further into anger. "Fuck- is this about her? We can just pay the bitch off-"
"Raeun" mingi hisses his name. The tension could be cut with a knife and you try everything to make yourself smaller in it. "Get. Out." Mingi points to the door.
Raeuns fit seems to cease, a smile creeping up his skinny features. "Oh, you got the position didn't you? The captain finally gave you something huh?" Raeun laughs loudly, holding his stomach that pokes out of a silky cheetah print shirt.
"Which means you're out." Mingi confirms. "Go." He says once more, it's a threat, the tone speaks for itself. Raeun doesn't bother once more, kicking the door open on his way out.
Your heart drops when the door slams shut behind him. Your labored breath calming to accommodate the quiet in the room. Mingi heaves a heavy sigh, taking a seat on the far side of the couch. His hand rakes through his messy hair, parting the spikes to docile them down. With a single hand in his hair and another reaching out for a glass- presumably full of whiskey, mingi finally glances your way.
You're a shaking aching mess, it doesn't take a genius to notice you're not for this lifestyle. You're dressed like a librarian in the midst of a nightclub for fuck's sake. Your palm is clutched tightly, as if you're attempting to squeeze the pain away. Your eyebrows are knitted and you're curled into yourself. Lost in thought.
"What are you doing here?" Mingi breaks the silence. You jump, turning your head his way.
"I'm looking for someone." You quietly answer. Mingi nods, lifting the whiskey to his lips. "Who?" He asks before he takes a gulp of the alcohol. "A boy, his- he goes by jihoon, he's five-eight- probably taller now- i - we haven't checked in a bit, he's got messy an-and curly black hair- it, well.. he hasn't let me trim it in a while and-" your rambles encourages a bubble in your throat, a sob beginning to form.
You could have gotten hurt worse, you still can, you could die here, you could be trafficked, mingi seems capable of it if he was able to test someone like raeun. And now the only thoughts in your mind are how you wish jihoon hadn't been mad, how you wish he could know you love him- in case you do happen to die, or end up missing. How the last thing you did with him was argue.
Your throat closes in when an image of the younger version of the boy shows up in your minds eye. The sob breaks out "he's just a kid, he's all i got- I'm all he's got, I don't want him here, please" you beg, for his sake, more than yours- mingi is so quiet, his aura is scary, he's not like anyone you've ever met before.
"Hey," he calls softly, your face twisting to see his. His eyes have caved, soft and understanding, his eyebrows furrowing. "I'm going to go get your boy, and you're not coming back. You hear me?"
Mingi makes his statement clear just as he gets up to leave.
The breath lodged in your throat exits as you nod. The dull ache of your hand plays at the back of your mind - finally, you'll be able to see jihoon, and you'll both leave.
You'll leave. Together.
There's no windows in this room. There is no light besides the TV in the corner. It flickers with a show you don't know, a familiar actor beating down on multiple men. Your eyes are blurry - and you wonder if you happen to have a first aid kit at home, possibly - if you haven't used all of the content on jihoon from his many fights and bruises. It feels like an eternity while you wait, hoping for light in the darkness.
You hope jihoons okay.
Your hope is answered when the door once again swings open. Mingi is holding jihoon by the scruff of his neck, pushing him into the room, but he sidesteps out of the way to let someone else in.
The cast of the club lights create a halo around the man, the beads of the entrance jingle when he steps inside, like crystals, the light bounces off every inch of the glass beads, illuminating the man in the fur coat from behind.
His hair is a vibrant blue, His nose has a define point, his lips are naturally plump- He's pretty. Which is a surprise. And you thought Raeun was the boss. No.. it's this man. With his cream colored fur coat and his tight leather jeans, a buckle with a silver star to top it off and a sheer black and white top. His shoes are leather, reptilian in design. A pair of dark glasses slotted against his forehead when he pushed them up. Your eyes meet.
It's dangerous. He's dangerous. Everything screaming. This is the type of man you'd see on TV, draped in luxurious brands and with a snarky attitude to come with it, a past- and scars along his figure, fuck- this guy is no good. He's a snake in man's skin. A wolf in sheep's clothing. And you can tell.
"Mingi" his eyes never stray from yours, as if stalking prey, his voice is light and inviting. Mingi glances his way, then yours with a silent response to the man "captain." He pushes jihoon forward and drags the hilt of his shirt up. You stand- to protest, to tell them don't touch him.
But the ink along jihoons skin is a sign of surprise. Of fear to your racing heart.
"Your boy here," the captain pats the young boy on his shoulder, jihoon grimaces, head down turned. "Has our symbol, he has the mark of ateez, and that means he won't be leaving anytime soon."
The lines of an 'A' are sharp, a circle to encase it, it spans almost the entirety of jihoons left pec. It's fresh ink. your stomach churns and twists. You think you're going to be sick.
"Jihoon is one of ours now." He finishes, clicking his tongue.
"Jihoon?" You quietly call. For him to say it's a joke, a sick one- but his face remains the same. Furrowed and ashamed.
Tears well up in your eyes once again. You've failed - failed as a guardian and failed your best friend. You failed the little boy you were given, and you've failed his father and future.
"Please. Please- okay- he's a child- he's only fourteen!" You plead with the man, slipping to your knees, desperate as you are- you're willing to do anything to prevent jihoon from throwing away his future.
The captains' fingers hold a coin- something you haven't seen before then. The men peer back at you in the dark of the room. "I-" "the ink is already there." He nudges jihoons left side, the boy groans in pain, most definitely sore.
"There's no changing that," he nods towards you, flicking the younger boy's cheek. His eyes are demeaning when he stares down at your figure. This all seems like a joke to him. With one final glance to your shaking body, the vibrant haired man turns away towards the door.
"Please. I'll do anything." You beg.
His steps falter. The coin makes contact with the metal of his rings as he plays with it. It dings every so often, like a clock in the silence over and over.
Clink, clink, clink, clink- ...
"Don't make promises you can't keep." You can hear the perk to the man's voice, a smile through his tone. "I can keep it." You confirm without another beat, gulping back your tongue.
"I can keep my promises."
"I swear on my heart."
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111 notes · View notes
zygomantic · 3 days
Note
Nanami comforting a sad/depressed fem reader after he comes home from work. (Had a horrible day/week and need any kind of comfort)
A/n: Honestly same. Always happy to provide comfort, thank you for your request! This is very short but it is what it is. Also, reader could be considered gender neutral.
You're not alone.
Synopsis: Your husband Nanami comes home from work and finds you crying on the couch. He helps you through it.
Content Warnings: Mentioned Depression, negative thoughts
You blankly stared at the TV, which by now had been running for multiple hours. You'd spent your hours flicking through channels and streaming services, hoping to find anything interesting to pass the time until your husband came home.
Your frustration grew the longer you searched. Why did this have to be so complicated? Fuck, it just added to the pile shit that didn't work like you wanted to. Your job was stressing you out and you knew the next months weren't going to be any more relaxed. Nanami was just as busy, mission after mission keeping him away from home. You missed him but didn't fault him for doing his job.
Since this morning you were feeling down, and though you'd struggled with depression in the past, it usually didn't creep up this fast or suddenly. You knew very well that you were still recovering and that recovery wasn't a linear process, but a small part of you felt disappointed in yourself for feeling like this again.
Or maybe you felt comfortable like this. It was so easy, so familiar. If you were really on the way back to depression, you didn't think you had any strength left to pull you out of it again and forcing Nanami to help you made you feel selfish. It wasn't his problem that your mind was broken and your thoughts shitty.
It was all too much and your nose started burning, then your eyes watered and you didn't bother stopping the tears as they escaped. A headache had begun to form in the back of your head and you just sobbed harder.
By the time a key turned in the front door lock your face was soaked with tears and your eyes were red and puffy. You must've looked horrible, because Nanami's eyes furrowed as he walked into the room and saw you. You hadn't even hear him call out your name when he entered, too absorbed in your thoughts.
Nanami didn't bother hanging up his jacket, just dropped it to the floor and immediately made his way over to you. His hand was on your back, rubbing soothing circles into it as he tried to figure out what was wrong. First, however, he needed you to breathe.
"Darling, can you hear me?" His voice must've registered somewhere in your mind because you nodded, despite having already forgotten what he asked. "Good," he said, continuing his comforting. "I need you to breathe, dear. You remember the box breathing, right?" Another nod. "Alright. Now breathe in for four," he instructed and you tried to follow, not counting the seconds but still trying. "Hold for four," you did, "and exhale for four. Now pause for four."
It became easier after the first minute and Nanami walked you through every second of it. Once you'd gotten your breathing back under control, new tears threatened to escape at the though of how much of a burden you were. Always making him take care of you like you're a child or baby, how embarrassing.
"Don't." You looked up at your husband in confusion. "I can tell when you're thinking poorly of yourself. Don't do that. Please."
Your voice was quiet as you answered. "Okay." You pulled your legs up under the blanked and curled up into a ball.
Nanami's hand was still rubbing your back. "Can you tell me what caused this? What's going on? "
"I'm sorry. Sorry." Tears streaked down your face and Nanami's warm, big hand swiped them away carefully.
"There's nothing to be sorry for. We all have our off days. I'm sorry yours had to be today." His voice was so deep, so comforting, almost like a light to cling to while the rest of the world was trying to drown you.
"Work's just been..." You trailed off, not really wanting to think about all the things you had to do and the insane amount of paperwork that had to filed until the end of the not to mention the coworker that-
"Stressful?" His voice ripped you out of your thoughts again. "I get what that's like. Is there anything I can do to help?"
"I- just don't leave. Please. I don't want to go back to feeling like I did months ago. I can't- I-" Your throat closed up just speaking about theast time your depression hit you hard.
"I'm not letting you do this alone. I promise." His hand pulled you into his body for a hug and you melted into him. "I'm here for you. Always."
"Thank you." He almost didn't hear you, you were so quiet. "Thank you so much."
119 notes · View notes
weskie · 1 day
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Just Pretend [Love is Madness] (Albert Wesker x gn!Reader)
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18+ | soft and fuck nasty wombo combo wesker, he whimpers, biting, what if wesker was in love AND denial, p/rn without plot | Fic Directory
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You bury your face in the sheets, fists scrambling for purchase in the soft silk.  The moan that leaves you is anything but dignified, though you’d passed that threshold long ago.  He’s had a long day, and you were all too happy to help him get it out of his system.
A hand twists in your hair while another takes a biting grip at your waist to steady you with each punishing thrust.  
So thick, so full… 
“Al…” You mewl, the nickname a sacred utterance only for special moments, whether carnal or tender.  You hear the way he shudders.  You feel the flex in his grip.  Wesker loves it and you know full well he does.  By the stutter of his hips turning to a wet grind, you know it drives him crazy to be called such a sweet, silly name.  To feel every one of your proclamations of love seep into something so… mundane.
You feel him collapse, chest pressing flat and hot against your back as he braces himself, breaths panting in your ear.  He’s not done– nowhere near it.  This is just how he gets away with the softer things.  He thinks you don’t know how much he fucking loves the full body contact.  That he shivers when the whole of you is pressed to him, when he feels completely joined with you.  
He peppers kisses from behind your ear down to the junction of your neck, each one wet and warm and full of unspoken adoration.  Each shallow grind into your heat makes him try and fail to bite back weak little moans until he becomes so fed up, so frustrated that he can’t keep his perfect composure, that he simply has to sink his teeth into your flesh.  At least he could lie and say it was just the taste of you that made him make such sweet little sounds.
“Oh god!” 
You know that’ll drive him wild too.  For in his mind, he is the god to whom you cry out.  
And how right he is…
His hands snake up your waist to grab at your chest, pulling you against him even firmer.  Your hand flies back to thread in his hair, tugging softly at his ruffled locks.  The force of his bite leaves you and is replaced with his tongue laving hot across his mark.  He gives two sharp rocks of his hips before rising off of you, pulling you into a kneeling position– back tight to his chest the way he likes it.  With an arm around your waist once more, he lets loose.  The bed creaks and moans beneath the force of his motions, and you’re fully convinced it’s going to give out one day.  Its song of protest is drowned by your symphony of passion, of skin on skin and desperate noises coming from you both. 
He bites down on you again to hide his sounds, but it’s to no avail.  Nothing can quite disguise the sound of Wesker whining and whimpering as he gives three sharp thrusts and a stuttering fourth before you feel him spilling within you– and oh how he sings for you.  That edge to his voice quakes with every tight moan he can’t suppress and your name finds its way between each heavy breath.  His arms pull tighter than ever around you as if letting go would make him fade into nothing.
But he doesn’t stop.  He never stops– never stops grinding or managing the occasional shallow rut.  The slide of his cock gets wetter with every bit of come that seeps out around it.  You’re on cloud nine, dangerously close to falling over the edge yourself when the hand at your waist finally drops to finish you off.
“Let–” he gasps softly, “let go, now.” 
The sound of him still stumbling over his breaths coupled with the perfect touch does you in immediately. It makes you arch and writhe against his unyielding grip as each wave of raw pleasure beats down on the shores of your mind and body.  Wesker holds you through it, eyes focused on the rise and fall of your chest, the way you quiver and pulse around his cock clouds his mind with the same intense need that got you to this very moment.
He’s not done.  Not even close.  The feeling of your walls milking him drives him further into a madness he knows, deep down, he’s never going to escape.
And why would he ever want to?
98 notes · View notes
royaltozaki · 2 days
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the blurry line between friendship and something more
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sana x fem!reader - trailer ▸ part 1
synopsis: the second day on this season’s bachelorette involves our first group date, a solo date with last night’s lucky winner, and of course, a rose ceremony to say goodbye to a few more contestants
warnings: cursing, implied sex, children, mentions of absent parenthood
w/c: 5.3k
a/n: my head is so empty but i hope that this is an enjoyable continuation, ty to all the love and all the readers <3 appreciate u all
⋆。°·☁︎
you wake up quite early the next day despite the long night. you pass by sana's door that's still closed, safely assuming she would still be asleep. it's also early enough that none of the producers or costume and makeup teams have come by yet to start preparing the two of you for shooting today, and you decide to head downstairs and make yourself a smoothie.
you cringe slightly as you turn the blender on, the loud whirring blasting through the peace and quiet of the early morning, but knowing sana sleeps like the dead, you're not too concerned about waking her up.
once your smoothie is ready, you walk out onto the patio and take in the slight bite of the morning air, reflecting over the events of last night while the sun makes its ascension into the sky.
you had to admit it was a little funny to see the faces of some of the contestants when sana called you out before the rose ceremony and introduced you as her best friend. you took glee in heechul's reaction in particular, horrified at what you may have said about him to sana, sending a wink over to jacky and eunji and a smile at miyeon who had all looked on in surprise as you took your place next to sana.
the rose ceremony droned on a little after that. sana had eliminated people that didn't leave much of an impression on either of you, you didn't remember any of their names. fitting since the night was all about first impressions.
what was surprising however, was who won her first impression rose. wonsik, the terrified guy that looked like he was going to pee himself every time a woman so much as looked in his direction, must have made some sort of lasting impact on sana that hopefully did not involve actual urine. she wasn't specific when you asked her afterwards, just saying that she had enjoyed her conversation with him and that he seemed like a sweet guy.
this entire thing was making you think maybe you knew sana a little less than you thought.
you sigh. an uncomfortable pit has found it's home in the bottom of your stomach ever since the beginning of last night, and it didn't seem like it was going away anytime soon. you dread what was to come.
⋆。°·☁︎
the first group date was underway.
sana had picked miyeon, eunji, jacky, jun, dae, and jiwon to participate. all 6 of them had made relatively good impressions with you on the first night, so this made for a good chance to dig a little more and see if you could eliminate any of these contestants.
it was honestly a pretty intense date to start with, diving right into the nitty gritty relationship questions most couples wouldn't even attempt until a few months in.
kids.
you knew sana adored kids and that she was a natural with them. this date involved everyone heading to a childcare and running it for a day.
this meant you could sit off to the side and laugh at the way eunji and dae looked completely out of depth trying to get a naked toddler that was running around on a tantrum back into his clothes.
you were sitting with jiwon since you didn't get to talk much to her on the introduction night, but with her experience as a nurse, she had a way with kids that made them just fall into her lap and completely calm down.
"did you say anything about me to sana?" she was a little awkward sitting with you, in contrast to the confidence she had last night when she had pulled sana away for a conversation during what you liked to refer to in your head as 'the hunger games'.
you feign indifference, "oh you know... only that you were really rude to me when we first met and called me a" you cover the little girl's ears sitting in jiwon's lap, "whore."
she looks at you in horror.
you burst out laughing, "i'm just joking jiwon don't worry. no i didn't say anything in particular which means you must have made a plenty good impression on your own to land on this group date." you offer an apologetic smile as she collects herself, combing her fingers through the little girl's hair lulling her into sleep.
"well thankyou. i'm glad sana has you here." she says honestly, placing the girl into a cot when she's fallen asleep and tucking her in, "it's pretty daunting to be dating so many people at once. it's good you can set her straight and be an objective presence."
you hum, "you're really good with these kids. is that something you want for yourself in the future?"
"not really to be honest. i grew up with really young siblings and my parents were pretty absent so i guess i got good at taking care of them because i had to. but that's also why i don't really want kids. being a nurse is really tiring and you're on call pretty much 24/7. the overtime is terrible and by the time we finally get off work, all we want is a good night’s sleep before we have to do it all over again. i don't want to have kids if i'm going to be like my parents, if i have them i want to make sure i have the time for them to give them the proper care and love they need."
"i'm sorry you had to go through that." the two of you whip your heads around to find sana there with a gentle smile on her face, carrying a little boy on her hip who looks perfectly snug against her.
jiwon's blushing and shuffling over so sana can join you on the carpeted floor. "there's nothing to apologise for. my experiences have shaped who i am today, it's why i do what i do and why i love it."
"that's admirable. i'm actually someone who really loves kids and would love to have some of my own, but i can definitely see different perspectives." sana's slotting in easily, and you find your jaw clenching at the way she's wrapped an arm around jiwon's and playing with her fingers.
jiwon's fumbling and a blushing mess, "oh! i mean like obviously it depends on my partner! i'd be open to discussing kids with the right person, but yeah like i said, i just want to make sure that the kids get what they need or it can really mess them up."
sana's giggling and you feel completely invisible, quietly excusing yourself to let them talk.
you bite your lip, the pit in your stomach feeling heavier than ever. you want to kick yourself, you have no idea why you're feeling this way, and jiwon seemed like such a sweet person as well, there was no reason at all for you to think she was unsuitable for sana. and yet, watching them touch and laugh and talk together made you feel all sorts of things you weren't ready to delve into yet.
you walk towards miyeon who is trying her best but still looks very much out of her zone.
"hey y/n-" she grimaces as the girl on her shoulder seems to pull on her hair, "bet everyone wants to date me right now huh?"
you laugh, helping get the girl off of her and pushing her towards another group of kids that seemed to be playing some sort of game.
"i'm sure sana appreciates the effort."
she cringes as she pulls something out of her hair and inspecting it before throwing it into the bin with a look of disgust, "eugh. i'm never having kids."
you laugh again, grabbing a comb and offering it to her as she accepts it gratefully.
"so you pulled a fast one on us last night huh?" again, you're struck by the similarities she shares with sana, if sana didn't love kids as much as she did, you'd bet she would be acting exactly like miyeon, screeching and running from the kids afraid of getting dirty or clung onto, kind of like how she would run from birds.
you shove her teasingly as she sends you a light glare, "don't worry. i only had good things to say about you." you smile reassuringly.
"oh i'm sure. i'm perfect anyways i don't know what you could've said that could be bad anyway." she smirks.
you roll your eyes goodheartedly, "actually i think i just found something. better watch your back, next time you pull anything funny i'll just tell sana you can't love anyone more than you love yourself."
she fakes a gasp, exaggeratingly placing a hand over her mouth, "you wouldn't."
"oh i would."
she sighs exasperatedly, "guess i better pack all my mirrors up and head back to file a marriage certificate for miyeon and me."
you spend the rest of the date with miyeon, laughing and joking around, you're appreciative of the distraction she offers and you're glad that she's here. even if you weren't her first priority here, you're glad to have made a friend in her.
⋆。°·☁︎
after the group date ends, sana is off for her solo date with wonsik. it's strange being so involved in her dating life all of a sudden. you're used to her telling you about her relationships, the dates she's been on, but now you're directly involved and you're seeing how she acts around the people she's dating. it was a whole different side of her.
that night, there's another rose ceremony. you're with all the contestants again, mingling and talking while waiting for sana and wonsik to make the grand appearance after coming back from their date. you'd overheard from the producers they were going on a helicopter ride and having a forest picnic, all very extravagant and fantastical.
so it's not too much of a surprise when everyone rushes towards the loud engine sounds and rotating helicopter wings yelling and full of excitement.
wonsik steps out first and he turns and extends a hand for sana to take.
she steps out in a stunning satin pale green dress that clings close to her curves and accentuates her shoulders and collarbone and the jewelry hanging around her neck. she's all smiles and holding wonsik's hand as she walks towards all of you.
you down your drink, finding relief in the way the alcohol burns down your throat.
let the hunger games begin.
⋆。°·☁︎
sana has been neglecting you today. that's what you're thinking as you down your eighth drink of the night. you're fine though, completely, perfectly, fine fine fine.
jacky's calling for another round of shots and you cheer with everyone as you all down it. you think sana's off with dae or someone but you lost track after the fifth drink.
"miyeon!!" you're grinning as you sling an arm around your new friend.
"woaaah y/n how much have you had to drink?"
"like eight but i can hold my alcohol good trust." you place your hand on your heart in mock salute.
"uh huhhhhhh c'mon let's get you some water."
"no! no water, only more alcohol! c'mon do a shot with me!" you're pouting and stamping your foot like a little kid, trying to drag her back towards the guys who are whooping and calling for another round.
"nuh uhhhh." her firm is strong around your waist as she drags you away towards a semi-secluded alcove and sits you down on the cushioned bench.
"who woulda known you'd be this kinda drunk y/n. sana must have her hands full with you." she's teasing as she gets you to drink a full glass of water, making sure you've drunk the whole cup before putting it away and sitting next to you.
you're pouting, "sana has her hands full with all of YOU actually. she doesn't have time for me here. i don't even know why she brought me here. i haven't done anything except watch her get it on with like every single person here." you hiccup, slurring as you're talking.
miyeon's frowning, a hand at your back, rubbing circles in a comforting pattern, "i'm sure that's not true y/n. you're her best friend, she just has a lot going on right now. imagine dating 24 people at the same time, anyone would have a hard time even remembering all of those names."
"yeah but my point still stands! there was literally no reason to bring me on here! she literally just did it to make me suffer i swear."
miyeon's surprised, "why are you suffering?"
you bury your head in your hands, groaning, "ughhhhhhhh i don't knowwwwwwwww. i just feel so icky whenever i see her while we're filming. like am i just being an attention whore or am i like like friend jealous? it's just so weird seeing her talking to people with like, the intention to be with them."
"well do you have this problem outside of filming? like in your real lives, do you get friend jealous easily?"
you look at miyeon dumbly, "no because sana's always going to come back to me."
she sucks in a breath and you can't tell what the expression on her face means, "what's different now then? are you worried she's not going to come back to you?" she's gentle and soft and you feel so comfortable with her, so easily able to open up to her despite only knowing each other for two days. reality television really does make everything go so much faster.
"no it's not that. she's not the type of person to just leave her friendships behind after she gets into a relationship. she cares too much about people to do that." you lean your head onto her shoulder, sighing in defeat.
"you know what it sounds like to me?"
"hmm?"
"have you ever thought that maybe you l-"
before she can finish the sentence, everyone is being called back into the house for the rose ceremony. tonight, 3 more people were going to be eliminated leaving 16 contestants. you hadn't even noticed that sana had come back from her talks with the other participants, when you spot her, she's looking at you strangely, you've never seen that look on her face before and you're a little scared at what it could mean. you hadn't done anything to upset her had you?
miyeon sighs next to you, "c'mon." she stretches a hand out to you, and you take it gratefully, walking back hand in hand, forgetting what miyeon was saying while thinking about what that look sana was wearing meant.
⋆。°·☁︎
you take your place next to sana, a little shakily as your vision blurs and you giggle a little. sana sends you a sharp glare as a hand shoots out to support your back and helping you right yourself. you mutter a quick sorry and stare down at your heels, remembering you're being filmed and most of the country will see this tomorrow.
sana starts reading out the names of the contestants that will continue to stay and you're checking off names slowly in your head. some people you still haven't really gotten to know too well yet, but you were getting a little better with names as you recognise most of the ones being called out.
you cringe when jihyo's name is called out and she saunters out with a bright smile, kissing sana on the cheek before receiving her rose. you smile for jacky, eunji, and jiwon, and it's not really a surprise that wonsik already got a rose on his date with sana.
slowly the roses wittle down, and then there's only one left.
hold on.
you look up to assess the remaining contestants.
miyeon.
you meet her gaze and she smiles at you encouragingly, always the optimist.
there's no way sana wasn't going to pick miyeon for the last rose right? they had hit it off so well on the first night and miyeon was picked for the group date today as well. as far as you know they still had good banter going on at the date and her talk with sana tonight seemed to go off without any hiccups as well.
yeah there was nothing to worry about. sana would pick miyeon.
"heechul."
the next few moments go in slow motion for you. you're dumbfounded as you watch heechul step forward with a sleazy smirk on his face, stalking forward with misjudged confidence. behind him, miyeon has kept her smile on her face but you can see the slight fall in her eyes.
"heechul, will you accept this-"
before you can think, before sana can finish the sentence, you're stepping forward and knocking the flower out of her hand.
everyone looks at you in shock and there's a stunned silence that fills the room for 2 seconds before Heechul interrupts.
"ahaha I will Sana thankyou-"
"No!"
He looks over at you with a smoulder on his face, an eye twitching as he tries to compose himself in front of the cameras.
Sana's snapped out of her shock now as well and turns to you, quite clearly angry with the scene you're making.
"outside. now."
she doesn't give you another second and turns on her heel. you gulp, you'd rarely seen sana angry, she was always the happy-go-lucky sunshine girl, and never was that anger ever directed at you.
"what the fuck was that?" after you'd scrambled after her.
you're still dumbfounded, "w-what? what do you mean what was that? i should be asking you that!? how could you pick heechul over miyeon?!"
her expression grows cold, "that's not your choice to make. much less on national television."
"and that's not an answer! i don't understand sana! you got along so well with miyeon and i told you what an ass heechul was! i don't- i can't- it doesn't make sense!"
"it doesn't have to make sense to you. love doesn't make sense. i need you to stop butting into my decisions. i chose heechul and that's that. miyeon is going home tonight."
"you asked me to help with your decisions! you asked me to be here! and i don't see the point of that if you're just going to ignore everything i say and do what you want. i may as well just go home if you're going to be like this the rest of the season!"
sana's face softens and she almost looks... ashamed?
"i'm sorry. please don't go home. i do need you here. i promise i'll take your suggestions in after tonight... just not on this. please don't argue with me."
you've started to pace in frustration in front of her, "but i don't understand! why? why would you ruin this poor girl's chance with you when she's clearly infatuated already and-"
"she's not! can't you see?! she likes you!"
you pause. what?
sana's blushing and clearing her throat, "anyway, if she's not here for the right reasons then she shouldn't be here anyway. so i'm sending her home."
you burst then, "what?! sana what the fuck?!"
she bristles, "don't what the fuck me! you didn't see the way she talked to you at the group date today! and then just then, her arm around you like you're her girlfriend," she spits the word out, "rubbing you're back and looking at you like that! you'd have to be blind not to see that she has feelings for you!"
"my eyes are right here sana." you point aggressively at your own eyes, "and i can see just fine thank you very much. miyeon was keeping me company at the childcare because my best friend didn't have time for me and left me to fend for my own with all these strangers! and miyeon was helping me again tonight because i was out of my mind drunk! i felt like shit and she was being a good friend while you were off god knows where making out with every other person in here!"
"they're strangers to me too you know?! at least i'm making the effort to get to know them when you barely even know half their names! and that's like half your job here too isn't it? and i'm sorry that i have to talk to everyone here because if you didn't know, we're filming a show and i'm the main attraction so i'm sorry that i actually have to go around and date people because that's the whole point of this fucking show!"
you're both breathing heavily, emotions running high.
a producer finally gains the courage to interrupt the two of you, looking like she wants to be anywhere else, she gingerly comes up and taps sana's shoulder. "i'm sorry guys but we have to get back to filming. the contestants are getting antsy and we need to reshoot that last rose because-" she glances at you with pity, "um yeah. so if we could get back that would be really great..."
sana's tense when she speaks up, "alright. i'll be in in a second."
the producer doesn't look convinced but nods quickly and rushes away again.
sana sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, "go home. you're drunk. i'll get one of the staff members to drive you."
you're about to protest when she interrupts, "you're drunk y/n. and definitely not television ready. go home." she says with finality and turns around, leaving you outside.
you're seething in the aftermath, adrenaline running high and blood pumping. you push off the staff that sana's sent, instead, walking around the side of the house and towards the front where the limos waiting to take the eliminated contestants home would be waiting.
you're still replaying the argument in your head when the eliminated participants finally exit the house. you spot miyeon immediately, her head still held high, and you feel another flush of anger at the fact that she was eliminated.
when she sees you she offers a slight smile, "hey y/n. funny we're meeting like this again. last time we were in this same limo coming to this place all hopes and dreams right?"
you sigh at her positivity, not holding back when you pull her into a hug and squeezing.
"i'm sorry you had to leave like this. i know how you felt about sana. i'm sorry she couldnt reciprocate that."
her arms come up around you as well, and you feel her release a heavy sigh, a little bit of her mask cracking.
"i appreciate that. i hope you take care of her y/n."
you bite your lip, trying not to think of the fight the two of you just had, nodding anyway to reassure her.
"although i know you will. knowing how you feel about her..."
you pull away this time, looking at her in confusion, "what do you mean by that?"
she smiles at you sadly, "you might not realise it yet. but when you do it'll all make sense. i just hope it won't be too late then."
"what- miyeon-"
she's leaving and getting into the car, slipping something into your hand.
"take care y/n. it was nice knowing you even though it was for a short amount of time. i'm glad we became friends. thank you for being there for me during this." she smiles and closes the door, and you can only look after her as her car pulls away.
you look at what she's slipped into your hand.
a small piece of paper with a line of numbers written in neat cursive.
you clutch it a little tighter, grateful for her extension of friendship even beyond all of this, in the form of her number.
you turn to the poor staff member who's been awkwardly hovering behind you and gesture that you can go now. he sighs in relief and leads you towards another car to take you home.
⋆。°·☁︎
sleep doesn't come easy. you're tossing and turning. you had heard sana come home and go straight to her room not long ago. you sigh, feeling conflicted. on one hand, you felt guilty that you had almost made a public embarrassment out of yourself and of sana, it was lucky the show wasn't aired live. but on the other, you were still confused how she could think miyeon had feelings for you of all people. it was so obvious to you that miyeon only had eyes for her. she had said it herself on the first night, that she wouldn't be guilty of any cross dating within the participant pool and that she was only set on sana.
a strike of lightning interrupts your thoughts, followed by the booming sounds of thunder.
you sigh, turning again in your sleep, pulling the comforter up higher, trying to find sleep.
then the second thunder crack shakes through the house and you jump up. sana.
you're out the door in seconds, hand resting on the door handle to sana's room. you hesitate. did she even what you there? you knew she was deathly afraid of thunder and lightning. back home you would always crawl into bed with her, shooshing and talking with her, distracting her until the storm passed and she could fall asleep. but you were afraid things were different now after your fight. you had never fought before, and things were so different with the entire show going on.
a third thunder clap sounds out and you hear a light yelp from the other side of the door and your decision's made. you push through quickly, shutting the door softly behind you as you inch closer to her bed. you cautiously lift a leg onto the comforter, careful not to startle her, and make your way under the blanket where she's shivering and crying, curled up in a ball with her hands over her ears.
you curl up behind her, sliding your arms over her midriff and resting your head against her neck, breathing in the scent of her hair. you feel her hands come down to yours immediately, clutching on tightly. she's still whimpering softly and crying but you squeeze against her even tighter, whispering i'm heres and you're okays.
slowly, you feel her breathing even out, she still flinches with every thunderclap, but she's not so tense anymore, uncurling herself but not letting go of your hands.
you're tracing patterns onto her palms, hoping to relax and distract her.
"thankyou." her voice is croaky and quiet.
you hum, nuzzling your nose against the back of her neck, "of course sana. you're my best friend. i'm always going to be here for you."
you feel her tense up again.
you don't want her to push you away so you interlock your fingers, holding her hands firmly in yours, not letting her break away.
"i'm sorry for overreacting tonight. you're right. this is your show and i'm just meant to be here to provide advice, and you can choose whether or not to take that on. but the decisions in the end are yours to make. and i'm sorry i disrespected that."
she sighs, turning in your arms, your heart flips a little at the proximity, but you busy yourself with wiping at her eyes, clearing away the wet tear tracks.
"i'm sorry too. i- i don't really know what came over me. maybe i was just a little scared you'd replace me. you told me on the first night that miyeon reminded you a lot of me. and then seeing the two of you get along so well, and her being able to be there for you when i wasn't, i felt a little angry with myself i think."
"i could never replace you sana. but i need you to understand that miyeon didn't have feelings for me. and i know i need to learn to be a little less clingy and needy, you're carrying a lot right now and you don't need to babysit another person on top of all that. so don't be angry with yourself for that, you've always been there for me in the past whenever i've needed you. and i know you'll always be there for me in the future too."
she frowns, "but not tonight. i wasn't there for you tonight." she brushes your cheek gently, "are you okay? why did you drink so much? that's not normally like you."
you sigh, placing your forehead against hers and closing your eyes, reveling in the closeness and familiar comfort sana offered.
"i don't really know. miyeon was saying something but she never got to finish her thought."
you know sana frowns again at the mention of miyeon because you feel her forehead wrinkling a little. you chuckle, "stop that." you poke her side and she wriggles away from you, pouting.
you hum, "it's hard to explain sana. it's like- like i can see everything now y'know? like i'm there when you're flirting with others, i'm there when you're in the process of getting to know someone and dating someone and it's different because that's not a real experience. like in the real world, i'm not going on group dates with your 6 other romantic interests, i just get the brief summary from you after you've finished the date. and i don't know- i- this is a hard word to use but i think i get jealous? but like- ugh i don't know it's all just so confusing and-"
you blink. a soft warmth is pressing against your lips. then as soon as it came it's gone.
your eyes are wide as you look into sana's equally widening eyes.
"oh my god i'm so sorry i didn't-"
and then you're pressing your lips against hers again. it's addicting. her lips are soft, and fit perfectly against yours, and this feels nothing like all of the kisses you've shared with your various exes. she's returning the kiss, moulding against you, a hand coming up to rest on your neck as you feel her fingers slide into your hair. your fingers come to rest naturally at her waist, which you find is just skin because her top has ridden up a little and she gasps at the cold feeling of your hands on her body.
you take the opportunity and lick into her, earning your first moan that shoots a line of energy straight to your core.
you're on top of her now, and it's your turn to moan into her when you feel a leg lift and press right against where you need her most. you're nipping down her neck, laying soft kisses and licks and she's panting under you, both of your minds hazy with lust and want.
she speaks up first though, "w-wait y/n-"
you hum against her pulse point as you suck on it, biting softly, relishing the moan it rips out of her.
"should we really- ah- be doing this?"
you pause, lifting off her a little, the sight of her panting and out of breath, lips swollen from kissing, hair messy, and a slightly darkening spot at her neck, all of it going straight to your core, as you grind down a little on her leg.
"fuck- i want to. i want you if you want to."
you're back at her neck, licking and sucking a path up to her ear, taking in an earlobe and nipping lightly.
she jolts up into you and you both moan at the slight friction it provides. she's closing her eyes, "oh fuck it- ye-s yes god- yes i need you y/n please."
and that's all it takes for you to reattach your lips, the storm, the show, everything else completely forgotten, just the two of you in this moment. you could deal with everything else tomorrow.
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