#it's probably not even the first time this has happened | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aventvrines · 3 days

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second best ; sae itoshi x f!reader PART 1

note: got to 10k words and decided to cut it in half<3

wc ; 8.8k | content ; slow burn..? swearing, tension, angst, situationship, kissing, making out, crying, more angst, lots of timeskips, not proofread, reader has a huge crush on sae bc tbh who wouldn't, sae is rich, cringe cliche tropes i'm sorry, english isn't my first language, two parter?, no prns but reader wears a dress, ooc, reader and sae both have rich and absentt

summary ; growing up with sae itoshi isn't quite what you'd expect

Sae Itoshi isn’t exactly sure when he first meets you – there are no formal introductions or anything of that sort. One day, you enter his life, and you never really bother to leave after. He’s kind of the same for you, appearing all of a sudden – your parents’ friends’ kid, a neighbor of yours – and never disappearing afterwards. As unlikely as it sounds, you’re probably one of his oldest friends – his first friend, as a matter of fact. [Not including Rin, that is. And not including the fact that he doesn’t really see anyone as friends, either.] Coincidentally, you’re also his first kiss.

It’s another one of those things he’s not quite sure about; he doesn’t know how it happened or why, exactly. All he remembers is that he’s twelve, and you’re sulking on the swings next to him at the park, refusing to talk. He doesn’t really care, but you huff so obnoxiously, for so long that he’s forced to take the bait. Only because he feels a little bad for you, though.

“What’s up?”

You perk up ever so slightly at the sound of his voice. It’s a small movement, one that only he sees, because playing soccer has already significantly honed his senses, and because he’s known you for the past seven years. You’re still upset, though, judging from the stupid pout on your face. The one that annoys him to the core, for some reason, even though he doesn’t even care.

“The boys in class called me ugly,” you sigh. Sae thinks he’s too mature to worry about little things like these, but you’re still tender, and apparently it matters a lot to you. He’s not the type to lie to comfort people, and he doesn’t lie when he replies to you. It’s a simple statement, one that he doesn’t think too much of.

“You are pretty, though,” he says. He’s confused; why would the others lie to you? You’re not ugly in the slightest.

“What?”

“I said, you are pretty,” he repeats.

You shake your head.

“Not pretty like in a friends way, Sae,” you chastise him with a tilt of your head. “Like, in a, uhh–” you cut yourself off, chewing on your bottom lip thoughtfully. “Like, you’d wanna kiss me, that kinda pretty.”

“I’d kiss you.”

This time you’re surprised. “No, you wouldn’t.”

“Yeah, I would.”

“Wouldn’t.”

“Would too.”

“Do it then,” you huff, confident that you’ve won the argument.

“Okay,” Sae replies, flat and emotionless. He slides off his swing, making his way towards yours. You stop swinging yourself, confused, and he grabs the ropes on either side of your swing, forcing its final halfhearted sways to an end. “So? Wanna kiss?”

It seems that you’ve finally realized he’s serious. “Oh…”

“Well? Don’t waste my time,” he grumbles, but there’s no actual malice behind his words. He thinks you know him well enough to know that, and you do, because then you’re getting off your swing too, and there’s a tense, awkward moment before you lean in, and then–

It’s nothing like you’d imagined; there are no fireworks, and there’s no cheesy romance music in the background either. But the feeling of Sae’s lips on yours are terrifyingly real. But then he pulls back abruptly, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and looks you up and down quizzically. “Happy now?”

You seem unsure of what to say, and he doesn’t push it. Instead, he turns around, ready to leave. “I’ve got soccer practice later,” he announces. “I gotta go.”

Sae doesn’t need to see your face to know how it falls, disappointed. He doesn’t look back as he walks away, because even at this young age, he knows how to pick his battles. And he doesn’t really care about you all that much, but he still doesn’t like it when you’re sad.

“Bye,” you mutter, barely loud enough for him to hear.

He doesn’t bring up the kiss the next day. Or the day after. Or after that. It’s like it never even happened. And if he were anyone, anyone else, you would’ve worried – even a little bit, because you’ve read those cute tween romance books that your best friend lends you – about how the friendship would work after this; but he’s Sae, and Sae doesn’t have friends. You’ve heard the whole spiel before – how he doesn’t care for friends, how he has Rin if he needs company, how soccer is always, always, always his first priority – and even though he’s basically told you that you aren’t friends, he’s never told you to leave either. So it’s not like he doesn’t like you, right?

But then again, it’s kinda changed everything for you. Because suddenly, Sae is no longer just Sae. It’s as if something in your brain finally clicks, and you realize that Sae is a boy too. It’s as if you’ve always seen him as an extension of your girlfriends, but now it’s different. So, so different. For the first time, you look at him like he’s one of the cute boys in class – because he is.

And unbeknownst to you, Sae notices. He sees the way you stare at him unabashedly when you think he’s not looking, how your movements suddenly become more calculated around him. Suddenly, you’ve stopped speaking your mind around him, started caring more about your appearance instead. You’re more conscious of your words and actions, and you keep applying and reapplying the strawberry lipgloss that’s always on your person The regular afternoons at the swing set in the park before practice have turned into hanging out maybe once a fortnight; instead of bugging him to hang out, you now shyly wave goodbye at him after school, and he watches you run over to your friends. You all giggle and push each other around, and if he notices the indiscreet glances your friends throw at him, or hears one of you say his name, he makes an effort to steadfastly ignore it.

It’s already kind of pathetic, how obvious you are with your little crush on him. He tries his best to ignore it, even when your entire face burns red when he throws you a ghost of a smile. But sometimes, even he finds it hard to resist teasing you. He deserves it, right? In his mind, he does. If you’re going to pine over him like this, might as well mess with you at least once while you do so.

It’s a week before your thirteenth birthday – he’s already turned thirteen by then – when he looks at you, feigning curiosity. “Y/n?”

You look at him, startled. “Yeah?”

“What happened to that guy you used to like, what was his name again-”

“N-nothing!” you stammer, interrupting him. “I don’t like anyone, I mean him, anymore!”

Sae’s lips quirk up momentarily; he shakes his head and walks away as you blush and babble incoherently, hands stuffed deep into his pockets.

You’re actually kinda cute.

Kinda.

He doesn’t know why it feels this good to have you indirectly confirm that you like him.

Thirteen passes by so fast, but it leaves you dealing with so many changes too.

There are no more afternoons spent at the swing set in the park.

At fourteen, you stop focusing on yourself for long enough to notice that Sae is changing too. He’s suddenly much taller than you, voice beginning to get deeper. He lets his reddish-brown hair grow out so it frames his face – somewhat unevenly, but it’s still pretty. He’s started to spend more time at soccer practice, and it shows. Like, physically. The muscles in his arms and legs have started to become more defined, and the number of girls who are into him have therefore increased drastically. It irks you. And then he actually starts dating, and it pisses you off even more, because 1) since you’ve basically grown up together, he’ll never see you as anything more than a friend, and 2) girls are basically lining up to date him, even when all the relationships he’s been in so far barely last a month, and his personality is ass, and he always prioritizes soccer more.

He doesn’t deserve it just because he’s pretty.

You don’t really understand why they do it; you’ve been pining for him silently for almost two years, and even though you fantasize him liking you back, and marrying you in the future, you know you probably wouldn’t do anything with him, not right now, not when he’s like this. You hope that if anything happens with him, you’ll be sensible enough to not pursue it. And you even miss just being friends with him – now that he’s busy with soccer, and teaching Rin, and girls, he doesn’t have any time for anything else. Anything else being you, in this case.

You barely talk to him anymore, and it’s not like he makes any effort either.

You miss him.

Sae doesn’t take all these relationships seriously at all; he’s fifteen, and no one really falls in love at fifteen, right? Besides, it’s not like any of these girls want him for anything other than his looks and money. They’re pretty, sure, and it’s fun sneaking around and having someone cheer for him at his soccer matches is nice, but he doesn’t really care for it in the end.

Freshman prom takes place when you’re almost sixteen. You’re one of those few people who doesn’t have a date; you’ve never dated anyone and quite frankly, you’re contemplating whether you should go at all. Maybe you won’t waste money on a dress and makeup and just stay home instead – it won’t be worth it to go alone and face the awkwardness of not having someone with you. All your friends have dates, so you’ll basically be alone anyways, and you don’t want them to give anything up for you – you know they would.

You’re thinking of all this while stranded on one of the higher seats on the bleachers; your friend Asa’s boyfriend is at soccer practice, and she’s brought you with her to watch. You’re not very interested in whatever they’re doing down there, but Asa appears to be, since she’s left you up here alone to go down to talk to her boyfriend. You look up momentarily, not expecting to see anything interesting, but then you catch sight of a familiar number on the back of a jersey – number 10. Despite not wanting to give in to his effortless allure, you can’t help but drag your eyes down the vast expanse of his broad back, down to where it tapers off into a surprisingly small waist, and then his toned legs. If he’s like this at sixteen, you can’t even imagine what he’ll look like when he’s older.

And then he turns around. And your eyes meet. He smirks at you, as if he knows you’ve been staring. You tear your eyes away from his mesmerizing teal ones, trying to focus on the math book that’s perched precariously on your lap. A moment later, you glance up again, thinking he’s moved to some other part of the field, but instead he’s approaching the bleachers, specifically in your direction. You panic for a second – maybe he’s just going to talk to someone else down there, you tell yourself, trying to calm down. But then he starts climbing the steps, one by one, until he stops at your level. Please walk past me, please walk past me, please–

He sits down on the seat next to yours. You keep your gaze fixed firmly on the notebook, refusing to acknowledge his existence until he acknowledges yours.

“You got a date?”

“Huh?” your brain doesn’t register the question before your answer flies out of your mouth. “What?”

Sae sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb. Even now, sweaty and tired and annoyed, he looks absolutely gorgeous. “Prom, you have a date?”

“Actually I’m thinking of not going at all,” you admit sheepishly.

“Why not?” Sae has the audacity to actually look interested.

“It’ll be awkward,” you reply flatly. “All my friends have dates, but I don’t, so I won’t have anyone to be with, and if I tell them I’m going alone, they’ll just ditch their boyfriends to hang out with me. I don’t want that to happen.”

“Go with me, then.”

“What?”

“Be my date, to prom,” he sighs.

“Oh.”

“Oh, what?”

“Don’t you have a date? I thought girls chase you everywhere,” you scoff.

“What, you jealous?” he says, almost as if he’s musing.

“Of course not!” you lie.

“So? Is it a yes, or do I gotta find some other girl to take?”

“I don’t think you have to go looking to find one,” you reply coldly.

He snickers in response, but there’s no mirth behind it. “I’m serious. I want you to go with me.”

You’d hoped to be sensible in situations like these. Spoiler alert: you’d hoped wrong. You are, after all, only fifteen.

“What about your girlfriend, though?” you ask him later.

“We broke up.” he replies curtly. Of course they did.

You ignore the twisted glee that boils in the pits of your stomach.

Your friends are probably more excited than you when you tell them who’s taking you to prom; you try to convince them – and also yourself – that it’s nothing like that, it’s purely platonic. But you still don’t know why he chose you. You’re also not sure why you accepted. If only he wasn’t so damn pretty.

You’re not deaf – the whispers start as soon as you enter prom attached to the Sae Itoshi’s side, the corsage on your wrist matching the boutonnière on the lapel of his tuxedo. All eyes are on the two of you; the soccer prodigy and his childhood friend. But Sae is surprisingly courteous tonight. He notices your discomfort almost immediately, squeezing your hand reassuringly to calm you down.

“Ignore them,” he advises you under his breath. He’s nothing like the person you’ve known so far. Is this how he treats his girlfriends? You shrug the thought off, instead forcing yourself to smile up at him.

“I’m fine,” you murmur.

You’re not.

Sae is an excellent date; he dances with you until you’re tired, refuses to leave your side, and looks after your punch when you go to the bathroom. He seems somewhat tired, but it feels like he’s trying to hide it, so you don’t mention it. But then again, you’ve been wrapped up in your own thoughts again. Because of tonight, the emotional part of your crush on Sae has once again been reawakened – he’s no longer a piece of eye candy you stare at when you’re bored.

And then, just when you decide things can’t get any worse, they do.

“Y/n, Sae, c’mere,” calls Asa. “Let's play spin the bottle!”

You shake your head, about to refuse, but Sae grabs your hand and starts walking towards the small group that’s assembled around a glass bottle that’s half full of some dubious liquid you can’t quite identify.

“Sure,” he says. “We’ll play.”

Fuck.

The circle consists of you, Sae, Asa, her boyfriend Denji, your other friend Maki, and a bunch of other people you don’t know by name. You’re sitting cross-legged on the wooden floor of the gymnasium, and for some reason, you have a really bad feeling about this. Maki goes first, leaning forward to spin the bottle with a swift flick of her fingers. It slows down near you, moves to Sae – your breath catches in your throat as it inches past – and stops in front of Asa. She leans in, giving Maki a cursory peck on the lips before pulling back. They’re both laughing, and she leans into Denji, immediately murmuring an apology. He shakes his head, grinning. “I don’t mind, babe, I swear! But whose turn is it now?”

Everyone turns to look at you.

Shit.

You swallow nervously, reaching out to the bottle with one shaky hand. You don’t know why you’re this anxious. Taking a deep breath, you spin. It takes longer than you expect. You can hardly breathe – and then Sae bends his head towards yours, whispering, “Calm down, it’ll be fine.”

But it isn’t. Because as soon as the words exit his mouth, the bottle comes to a stop. And because the universe does everything it possibly can to fuck you over, it comes to a stop in front of Sae. You hastily shake your head. “It’s okay, we don’t have to–”

“What?” he interrupts. “You don’t wanna kiss me?”

“It’s not that,” an angry flush spreads across your cheeks, and your hands ball up into tight fists. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

“Make it ten seconds at least, this time!” Someone cheers, but you’re only looking at Sae. You turn towards him, and just like that, you and Sae share your second kiss together. He’s obviously much more experienced than you, tilting your head up with one hand to get a better angle. His lips are chapped, but still soft. It feels… nice. You almost wish you were dating him. But when you finally relax, almost starting to enjoy it, he pulls back. “See? It wasn’t that bad.”

You nod, flustered, still trying to compose yourself. “ Yeah, it was okay.”

“I think I’m cursed,” you complain to Asa and Maki in the girls’ toilets where you’ve taken refuge to touch up your makeup. “He was my first kiss, and my second one too. Next you’ll see him being the third one too!”

Asa giggles. “Ooh, I hope so!”

“Maybe he’s secretly in love with you, you never know,” interjects Maki, but you shake your head sadly. She rolls her eyes, closing the tube of mascara. “Stop acting like a pathetic puppy,” she chides. “It’s okayyyyy.”

You don’t answer, busy swiping the applicator of your lipgloss across your lips.

“Um, I think I gotta pee, you guys go back without me,” you say. Your voice is too loud, too high-pitched. It’s obvious that you have other reasons for wanting to come out later. There’s an awkward silence, and you’re not quite sure what to expect. Will they refuse and Call you out? Anxiety bubbles up inside you. But Asa and Maki are your best friends, after all. You can see in their eyes that they don’t buy it at all – they pretend to, though, and leave you alone in the restrooms to rot alone with your thoughts.

When you finally get the guts to exit the toilet, you find yourself standing behind Asa. She’s asking Sae how much longer the two of you will be staying, and hasn’t seemed to notice you behind her yet. Sae does, though, raising one perfect brow ever so slightly. Asa continues talking, unaware of the silent conversation going on between the two of you. Sae tilts his head to one side, as if asking a question; you shake your head vehemently in return, hoping he understands what you’re trying to convey.

“We’ll get going as soon as y/n comes back,” says Sae. You breathe a sigh of relief; how could you possibly have doubted him? He’s known you since you were what, five years old – longer than anyone else in the room, even Maki and Asa.

“But it’s barely eight,” Asa argues, but he shakes his head.

“Her parents said eight thirty tops,” he shrugs. Sae is an impeccable liar. Before Asa can say anything else, you interrupt them.

“ Sae, we gotta go.”

“Yeah,” he says. “See? Later, Asa.”

“Bye Asa!”

She waves goodbye as the two of you leave the gym.

The school looks completely different at night, dimly lit with countless locked doors on either side of you, and it doesn’t take long for the two of you to get lost. Sae watches you standing uneasily by a window, face lit up almost ethereally by the moonlight that’s streaming in. You don’t notice him staring as you gaze distractedly out of the window silently. You really are pretty.

He doesn’t realize when he walks over to stand beside you wordlessly. You tear your eyes away from the world outside and turn to him. “You need anything?”

He shakes his head. “Not really.”

His voice is lower than usual, barely above a whisper, and suddenly the air is thick with tension. He hears you breathe in, sharp and fast, as your gaze flickers from his eyes, to his lips, then back to his eyes again. He can’t blame you, not when he’s doing the same thing. Sae takes a single carefully calculated step forward, and before he can move another muscle, you step forward too, grabbing the lapels of his jacket and pulling him down to kiss him. He’s startled at your boldness – he hadn’t expected you to initiate anything – but it’s a nice surprise. It takes a moment for him to regain his senses before he kisses you back with equal fervor, large hands coming up to cradle your face. He feels you sigh softly into his mouth, fists tightening around the fabric of his jacket. What had Asa mentioned again– oh. So this is your first real kiss – not one that’s part of a game, not one that’s being used to just prove a point. Your stupid strawberry lipgloss smears across your mouth and his, and it tastes good, and you taste good, and so what if a tiny part of him doesn’t want this to ever end?

But then the two of you separate, and you’re probably the most beautiful girl he’s seen in his entire life. You’re panting slightly from the lack of oxygen, chest heaving gently. Your lips are parted a little, slick with a mix of lipgloss and saliva, and you’re watching him with widened eyes. He’s not sure what to do now, but suddenly you take a step back, and then another, and another. You shake your head. “This was a mistake, Sae. I’m not gonna become another one of your disposable girlfriends.”

Sae doesn’t know what to say. In fact, he doesn’t even have anything to say at all. No excuses, no defenses. You are probably right after all. Though he may be an expert at starting relationships, he certainly fails to keep them alive – not that he cares to, in the first place. And soccer is always more important anyways. So he stays silent, watching you hurry away into the dark.

He hopes you won’t get lost this time.

School starts a week later, a day after your sixteenth birthday. You’re almost relieved to see that Sae has gone back to ignoring you. [he hasn’t wished you a happy birthday.] You play it off to your friends as him just being busy again, but you know that’s not true. And he already has another girl hanging off his arm again, and although you’re unsurprised, it still hurts after that night, when he’d kissed you like you actually meant something to him. You know you don’t, though. Not in the way other things matter to him – soccer, for example. Or getting girls.

It’s painful to even look at him now; it’s annoying how fast your views of him have changed. It also doesn’t help that he glances towards you every now and then. Whatever, you think. Fuck him. You need to focus on your classwork instead. Or more specifically, the project that’ll make up a significant portion of your grade and act as a replacement for your finals. Unfortunately for you, it’s a partnered project, meaning you won’t be able to work as efficiently – you’re in your element when you’re working alone. Half the class has already been paired up by the time your name is called. You scan the remaining people for Asa or Maki, hoping you get one of them as a partner, but your peace is shattered as your teacher calls out a name that you’ve grown to dislike, no, fear over the past week. “Sae Itoshi!”

Sae’s face is painfully neutral, betraying absolutely no emotion. You don’t know whether he even cares about this – he probably doesn’t – but it’s still an important project, so all you can do is suck it up and work. He walks up to you, face still annoyingly blank. “You have my number, right?”

What happened to hello? How are you? You nod anyways, unsure of what he wants.

“Call me then,” he says flatly. “I’ll do whatever as long as you arrange the time and place.”

What a bitch. You want to slap him.

“Okay.”

It’s not okay.

Every time you’re even near him, all you can think of is his lips on yours; the feel of his hands on your waist, your face. You don’t want anything to do with him, let alone spend the next two weeks working on this stupid project with him.

That night, you scream at yourself in the mirror. Why can’t you just be normal? These things happen, it’s not a big deal. You spend half an hour pacing around the bathroom, raving to yourself like a madman. It takes another hour before you calm down enough to be able to text him.

You: hey

You: this is y/n btw

Sae: ok

You: you told me to arrange everything

Sae: yea

You: i’m free tmr after school. At like 3

Sae: i have practice

You: dude skip out on practice once nothing will happen

Sae: no

y/n: ur literally a prodigy..

Sae: and?

y/n: okay yk what?

y/n: you set everything up then idc

Sae: wtf okay

Sae: 3pms okay

Sae: your place or mine

The first time the two of you meet up, time passes slowly but uneventfully. It’s at your house; the two of you have decided to alternate until the project is done. It doesn’t really matter, though, considering how close you live to each other It takes you almost six hours to perfect the outline, and you’re fucking exhausted by the end of the day. Even Sae doesn’t have any energy in him to spit out any witty remarks until he’s leaving. He shoves his things into his backpack messily. Usually, everything that belongs to him is neat and immaculate, so this goes to show just how much the day has worn him out. But it appears to have reduced the tension between you two as well. [Not that you care.] At the door, he turns back to you. “Fuck you for choosing the most complicated topic just for some extra credit,” he grumbles.

You scoff, even though you know he’s not being serious.

“Fuck you too, Sae Itoshi.” you call.

He raises up one hand to flip you off behind him as he walks off.

You think you hear him laugh.

The second day of the project is spent at Sae’s place. It’s a Saturday, and he forces you to wake up nice and early so the two of you can start working on the project as fast as possible.

“The faster we start, the faster we finish,” he says.

Sae is infinitely more comfortable in his own house, body draped over one of the many sofas in the living room as he types on his laptop. You’re sitting on the floor, on top of a large piece of paper that you’re decorating. This project is such a pain in the ass. The air conditioner is on full blast, but for some reason you’re still feeling kind of feverish. Sae, on the other hand, seems to be living his best life in a tight black t-shirt and light gray sweats that hang annoyingly low on his hips – it’s a simple yet devastatingly distracting outfit, and you can barely focus.

Sooner or later, the two of you find yourselves in the kitchen looking for something to eat. Sae bends down to rifle through the fridge while you seat yourself on one of the high stools around the kitchen counter. Your legs hang in the air, and suddenly you feel very small. But more and more loud noises come from the fridge as Sae curses and throws an empty box behind him; you take this moment to shamelessly ogle his turned back. He straightens up again a moment later, and you rip your eyes away and look down at the counter. Just in time too, because he turns around, slamming the door shut.

“That little shit Rin finished everything good here,” he grumbles, stretching. You have to force yourself to look away from him and the way his shirt rides up to reveal perfectly sculpted abs. He turns to one of the cabinets instead, pulling out a container instead. Opening it up, he sticks one hand inside, pulling out a chocolate chip cookie. Then he holds it out to you. “Want some?”

You nod in assent.

Sae finishes eating before you, but he doesn’t leave the kitchen as you steadily work through the pile of cookies on your plate. It’s not exactly awkward, but he’s slouched against the marble of the kitchen counter, chin resting on one hand as he watches you eat. His pretty teal gaze follows your every movement, yet his face remains completely passive.

You help him wash up after you finish, even though there’s not a lot to clean. But then, as you turn around to leave the kitchen, Sae moves too, and suddenly you’re standing with your front all but pressed up against his. You move to one side to give him space to pass, but apparently he has the same idea at the exact same time. You move to the other side, and so does he. The double coincidence makes you giggle, and pulls a chuckle from him too. But the atmosphere shifts in a way that’s all too familiar, and the pit in your stomach reopens, and you swallow, looking up at Sae. He stares back at you, nonchalant, and before you can say anything or get yourself out of this situation, he speaks. “I want to kiss you again.”

His voice is controlled, toneless. But his eyes, the ones you’ve known for over nine years right now, betray his true feelings. He’s really not as unbothered as he’s trying to appear; a steady fire of something you can’t identify burns in his eyes.

You want to say no. You know that’s the smarter option here. You know you’ll only get hurt more if you let it – or whatever this is – continue like this. The path that you’re walking is already doomed, you can see where the road ends, fades into nothing but pain and suffering. But you’re young, and you’re stupid. And you like Sae Itoshi way more than you should. So you shrug. “Sure.”

Sae cups your face with one hand, adjusting your positioning slightly before he leans down to kiss you. This time, along with the anxiety, there’s also something in you that yearns and yearns. The second or two before Sae kisses you feels like an hour at the least; something almost akin to relief floods through your veins when he finally does.

It’s as if your world shifts as he kisses you again, slow and languid. Or at least, that’s how it starts. In a matter of seconds it turns into something more zealous, all tongue and teeth. Your hands instinctively fly up to tangle into his messy hair as he picks you up effortlessly with one hand and places you atop the kitchen counter. You gasp into his mouth in surprise at the sudden movement, and it draws a low chuckle from him before he pulls away infinitesimally. You’re confused; is it ending already? You don’t want it to end. And it’s as if Sae reads your mind.

“Calm down, pretty,” he pants, eyes wide and pupils blown out. He smirks against your lips, smug, confident. “It’s just a breather, I’ll kiss you again, don’t worry.”

You roll your eyes, and Sae kisses you again; you can feel the way his lips curve up. He feels you loop your arms around his neck, somehow pulling him even closer to you, and he maneuvers one of your legs so it’s hooked around his hip. You seem to get the message, wrapping your legs around his waist. Sae hums into your mouth in approval, dragging a thumb across your cheekbone slowly, lips still against yours. He knows all of this is still more or less new to you, considering the fact that everything you’ve experienced has been with Sae, but it’s obvious that you’re growing more and more used to it by the second.

He doesn’t taste the lipgloss this time; he almost misses it – both the taste, and the way it smudges across your lips so prettily.

The taste of him intoxicates you, leaving you in a drunken stupor where he’s the only thing you can focus on. His every touch leaves a trail of fire in its wake across your body.

But heaven on earth always comes to an end, one way or the other. You’re both oh-so wrapped up in everything going on when Sae suddenly pulls away. You lean back from him, confused. “Sae, what’s wrong?”

“Just, just gimme a sec,” he rasps. His voice is low, husky from the kissing, and he’s somewhat short of breath. “I’m not looking for a relationship or anything. I don’t know why I did it, I broke up with Kaori like a week ago.”

“I know,” you reply matter-of-factly. “Like I give a fuck.”

And then you kiss him again.

The sound of his phone ringing interrupts the two of you, and you both turn your heads to look at it simultaneously. It’s an unknown number; he cuts the call, cursing, and turns back to you. But your eyes are widened in disbelief as you stare at the clock on his lockscreen. “Sae, it’s been almost an hour since we came here!”

“No way,” he says. There’s a note of mild surprise in his voice as he checks for himself.

“We have to get back to work,” you tell him.

“Whatever, five more minutes?”

You shake your head, finally leaving the kitchen. Now that the haze you’d been lost in has finally cleared, the magnitude of just how badly you’ve fucked all this up has begun to really sink in. Sae is much more composed than you – like he didn’t just spend the last thirty-ish minutes making out with you on his kitchen counter.

The two sides of you are fighting, clawing, tearing each other apart. One side wraps around you protectively, trying to keep your heart safe. To keep you safe. Stay away from him, it screams. You’ll only get hurt. The other side wants him – wants him so badly. He has you addicted with a singular touch; your body needs this, craves him.

And you hate how he’s perfectly fine about all this.

Spoiler alert: he isn’t. Although his face doesn’t betray it, he has been thinking.

That evening, before you leave, he asks you a question.

“What are we?”

You pause. “You said you’re not, y’know…”

“Yeah.” he’s selfish; he knows that you’re into him at least a little bit. [or a lot, considering how the last few days have been.] “What do you wanna do?”

This is the last moment you can turn back, save yourself. But you only live once, right? Might as well do it for the plot. “We can keep it like this, I don’t mind.”

Sae watches you touch up your makeup before you leave. You work calm and methodically – mascara, lipstick, that damned strawberry lipgloss. “y/n.”

You move your gaze from your compact mirror to him. Damn, you’re pretty. “What?”

“Kiss me,” he says, from the couch.

You don’t say no as you take your shoes off again.

You reapply your lipgloss again half an hour later, on the way home.

The project is completed much earlier than expected. If you’re being honest, though, you should have expected this, considering the two of you spend most of every day at each others’ places now anyways. You’ve always hated having rich, absent parents, but it doesn’t seem half as bad now. Not when Sae’s hand sits so comfortably on your waist, chin resting atop yours as he takes a photo of the finished piece. It’s like you’re two puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly, that are meant to be. You wish it was meant to be.

You and Sae have been pretty good at keeping things under wraps, especially when you can barely keep your hands off each other. Ever since you okayed the relationship-not-relationship, it’s as if things have automatically upped a notch. And even then, you barely text, unless it’s about meeting up in secluded corners and empty parking lots, where Sae kisses you silly, until you can’t breathe and his sharp teal gaze is unfocused and glazed over. Sae chases you the way he chases every goal on the field, focused on you and only you, ruthless, mindless of everyone else until he has you right where he wants you, with unbuttoned shirts and loosened ties and roaming hands that grab collars and venture daringly underneath clothes without ever crossing that invisible line. In the past few weeks, for example, you’ve felt up Sae’s abs way more than you’re going to admit; you’ve lost count by now anyways, but you know you’d never go farther. [you never started.]

When Sae Itoshi truly puts his mind to it, he is an emphatic lover. Between days of stolen kisses and fleeting touches and nights where you sneak out to meet him like he’s your boyfriend, time passes fast. Your favorite drink sits at one corner of your desk every day at school, and sometimes people ask if you’re dating someone. You shake your head no, but it still is a pleasant surprise every day, you tell people. It’s most definitely not Sae, especially when he’s slightly late to school every day after his early morning soccer practice.

In his own classroom down the hall, Rin’s lips quirk up into a subtle smile.

Sixteen turns into seventeen in the blink of an eye.

Sae’s slowly becoming more and more busy with soccer, and it’s not like you aren’t busy either. You barely see him now, except at schools and parties, both of which are less than ideal, considering the nature of your relationship. This doesn’t deter Sae, however, and you often find yourselves in empty rooms or the like, risking it all for a few kisses.

And then there’s the matter of his girlfriends. Because whether you like it or not, Sae has begun to date girls every now and then. They’re not serious relationships, just stupid flings that last a month or two. He never brings them up to you, and you never mention them either, unless you’re asking whether he’s done with them. He doesn’t tell you when exactly he starts dating someone new, but it’s obvious from how he pulls back and stops texting you at all. And then you see a new girl hanging off his arm at every party, and of course you’re jealous. Why wouldn’t you be? After all, it’s been five years since the first spark of anything you’ve felt for him came alive.

You’re the one constant in his life, though, other than soccer. Every time he’s done with another girlfriend, he comes straight back to you. Or you go back to him.

Sae: come over?

Sae: yeah yeah im done w her dont worry

y/n: okay

You never refuse him, overpowered by greed, trying to get as much of him to yourself as you can.

“Hey,” he greets you. His lips are already on yours before he’s closing the door. You don’t respond – how can you, given your position – but you smile into the kiss all the same. Sae is the closest you’ve ever had to a boyfriend. You have no interest in anyone outside him anyways. His parents are rarely home, and so are yours, so you often end up spending nights at each others’ places. It’s nothing sexual; you’d just rather not be alone. There’s a drawer of Sae’s things in your room, and he knows – and you know he knows – that you wear them occasionally. You always deny it, but he encourages it with a sly smile. “Better you than anyone else,” he says. It makes you feel special. Even his girlfriends don’t get that treatment. But that’s before you sleep over at Sae’s. Once you start staying over, his clothes are basically at your disposal. You steal his button ups, his t-shirts, his shorts. And the best part is, he doesn’t mind in the slightest. All he does is grin at you lazily while he shamelessly checks you out. “You look good, pretty girl.”

He laughs at the way the pet name startles you.

Seventeen is also when your life falls apart.

Sae shows up unannounced one night at your door, with a bouquet, a gift bag and an envelope. You haven’t seen him in a while. He’s been busy with some sort of tryouts, you’re not really sure. He hands the bag and flowers to you watching you toss the bouquet onto a couch and turn to the bag. You take out a small velvet box. It looks expensive. Inside, there’s a simple gold necklace with a heart-shaped locket. Your eyes widen. “Sae, what is this? How much did it–”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says. His usually dispassionate face seems almost sad. “Just a present for my favorite girl.”

Sae has never been a verbal person with you. In the last two years, he’s only ever made his thoughts clear through his actions – never his words. This is new, and for some reason, it scares you. “But why?”

“It’s my way of saying goodbye,” he admits. Your heart drops.

“What?”

He hands you the envelope next, and your eyes frantically skim through the document until you finish; he’s been chosen to go to Spain and train under that one soccer team he’s always talked about. You look up with wide eyes. “Sae, I’m so happy for you!”

He smiles, albeit melancholically. “I knew you’d be. But there’s also… us.”

You’re confused. “Huh? Us?”

He nods. “Whatever we’re doing right now – I can’t continue it. Not like this, over texts, with the time difference and everything. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I do.” Your heart shatters into a million pieces, but you don’t want to feel any of this. Because even though you’re losing him right now, he was never yours in the first place – and you were never his. And you’d known this from the start; anticipated it even. There’d been a small part of you that had hoped, of course, that things would go a different route, but it had been set in stone all along. You take a deep breath. “Okay, Sae Itoshi, what do you wanna do?”

The corners of his lips twitch at the use of his full name, even as he tries to remain serious. “I don’t know, y/n l/n, what do I wanna do?”

Stuffing the envelope back into his hoodie pocket, he cradles your face softly with both hands, like you’re fragile. Weird. He’s never done anything like this, especially not almost-in-public. He’s always been careful, trying not to get caught. And he has kept this hidden for almost two years now, so you can’t exactly complain. You grab his wrists with both of your hands, pulling him into your house. You lock the door carefully, but you don’t notice the girl at the corner of the street. The one with a wicked little smile on her face, as she clicks yet another incriminating picture of you and Sae, damning evidence of the stupid not-relationship the two of you have kept hidden for so long.

“Do me,” you snicker as soon as you make sure the door is locked. It’s not your usual humor, not with Sae, anyways, but you’re too absorbed in your thoughts, trying to hide the intense pain you’re feeling right now. You hope it doesn’t show on your face.

Sae raises one eyebrow, arms crossed in front of him. “Come again?”

“Nothing,” you say. “C’mere, help me put this on.”

He follows you to your room like a sad puppy, waiting silently as you turn the lights on and stand in front of the mirror. He takes the necklace from your hands, fastening it around your neck. You fix the positioning of the locket; the metal is cool against your skin that’s heated up from the brush of his fingers on the nape of your neck. Your eyes meet his in the mirror, and the silence is strained, awkward even, unlike anything you’ve experienced with him before.

“So, when are you leaving?” you ask him.

“Tomorrow.”

Oh. So that’s why it’s goodbye. Of course. [You want to die.] Instead, you turn to him, hoping your face doesn’t betray your emotions. “How long are you staying here?”

“How long do you want me to?”

“When’s your flight?”

“Stop asking me questions,” he huffs. “Eight, I think.”

You open your mouth to ask another question.

“AM, eight in the morning,” he says, hands raised in surrender. “Now will you stop?”

“Let’s watch a movie,” you tell him, ignoring the second statement. “Then you can go home, I guess.”

“You guess? What, you wanna keep me here forever?” he means it as a joke, but you hum in agreement.

“Sure.”

He pulls one of your drawers open, taking out two sets of clothing. He chucks one at you with a grin. “Go change, stupid. Get comfortable.”

“Oh,” you say. “You have to take all this back, right?”

“Nah,” he responds carelessly. “I don’t. Keep ‘em, throw ‘em out for all I care.”

You change in the bathroom, giving him space to do the same in your room. But when you come out after giving him sufficient time to finish – he’s always been quick in every way – he hasn’t changed, standing with his back to you while talking on the phone in only his boxers. You wait for him to finish, patiently staring at his back until he finishes. He notices your presence almost as soon as the call ends, turning around to face you. “What?”

“Nice ass, Itoshi,” you grin.

He narrows his eyes at you. “For real, y/n?”

You don’t answer, instead busying yourself with fixing up your bed while he gets dressed. When your bed looks okay enough for your [arguably low] standards, you turn back to Sae, who’s still very much shirtless. He holds his t-shirt in front of him, staring at it skeptically.

“The fuck, Sae? Put your clothes on!”

“It’s hot tonight,” he complains. “Can’t I go without?”

In all those nights of staying over, he’s never done that before. If it had been anyone else you’d probably have said no. But it is Sae asking, and when have you ever said no to him? You make a show of thinking it over, but your mind has already said yes.

You start off at separate sides of the bed – you always do. This time, though, you don’t really concentrate on the movie as much as you should. Sneaking looks at Sae Itoshi’s lean, yet defined and extremely attractive body is much more fun anyways. When you’re about halfway through the stupid, sappy rom-com you’re watching, you feel a strong pair of arms wrap around your middle before Sae pulls you into himself. Your terrified shriek turns into a groan as you turn over to smack him in annoyance. “Maybe ask next time!”

Sae shakes his head, burying his face in your hair. Humming appreciatively, he pulls the hem of your [his] loose t-shirt up just enough to be able to wrap his arms around your bare middle. He turns back to the movie, but you’re stuck in contemplative thought. This is all new; he’s never actively done anything like it during any of your countless movie nights – if they can even be called that, considering the majority of them are interrupted by him initiating something or vice versa – and he’s always waited for the two of you to slowly come closer to each other rather than pull you to him, like tonight. He’s acting like what you'd expect a real boyfriend to act like, and suddenly your insides lurch, and once again the gravity of the situation hits you.

You’ve never really minded being Sae’s little secret, someone he comes back to when he’s tired of school and soccer and his girlfriends. It makes you feel like you’re kind of a safe space for him, where he’s not afraid to be soft or tired or imperfect. Of course, he’ll always be perfect in your eyes, anyways. But it hurts like hell now, when he acts like he’s yours, buying you expensive shit, calling you his favorite girl – who even does that? You’re already thinking of giving the necklace away, because how can you live with something like it, when he’s the one giving it to you, his “favorite girl”, when he’s not even your boyfriend. And even then, you’ve managed to somehow fall in love with him.

It’s so fucked – you’re so fucked.

Sae seems oblivious to your troubled thoughts, hands busied with toying with your necklace.

“This looks pretty on you,” he murmurs, and you want to throw up. You can’t take it anymore; you want to forget it, forget him, forget every compliment that he’s handed you today like some sort of indirect apology. Another second of all this, and you might just cry. You need him to shut the fuck up, and the easiest way to do that is–

“Sae, wanna make out?”

He never says no to you, either.

Sae leaves like a shadow in the night; he kisses you goodbye and whispers something that sounds suspiciously like “I’msorryIloveyou” before he pulls away. But he’s Sae, he would never say that. And even while breaking your heart into pieces with his bare hands, slow and deliberate, he still has the audacity to look so devastatingly beautiful while doing it. And you still can’t hate him. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to. It’s maybe two in the morning when you stand at the door waiting for him to leave – you’re not sure because one moment you’re falling asleep, and the next he’s waking you up, cursing, running late. He still needs to pack half his stuff. You’re startled out of your sleep when you hear that; is he fucking stupid? Who leaves that for the last few hours?

But you digress.

You haven’t bothered to turn the lights on, knowing that you'll probably just go back to bed and cry. Maybe grab some ice cream from the kitchen on your way. Not that it matters. Sae’s changed back into his normal clothes again. He looks like he’s about to say something, but then he stops. Stepping out of your house for the last time in who knows when, he turns back. You both speak at the same time.

“y/n.”

“Sae.”

“You go first,” he says.

“How long will you be, um, gone?” you ask. You’re aware your voice is shaky. Your lower lip trembles, and you bite down on it to stop. You’re going to cry – you don’t want to, not in front of him.

“Two years,” he replies sheepishly. “Give or take.”

Two–

“I won’t have my phone, or anything,” he continues, unprompted. “So…”

“Yeah, I get it,” you say.

“Yeah.”

“What were you gonna say?” you ask. You’d almost forgotten.

“Oh,” he seems shy, all of a sudden. The cocky, confident, arrogant, brash Sae Itoshi, acting like this in front of you? Something’s definitely up. “Oh.”

“Hm?”

“I’ll miss you,” he says at last.

He watches your face carefully: the way it moves, the way your expression changes, the way the tiniest spasm of pain flits across it before it goes back to whatever facade you’ve been maintaining carefully ever since he came over today. You don’t say anything back, but god you’re beautiful. Even in your [his] ugly, oversized clothes and with your messy hair, you look absolutely enchanting, angelic features illuminated by the silvery moonlight. Suddenly he’s transported back to a certain evening almost two years ago, with you in a shimmery blue dress, standing by a window. You in that same blue dress, kissing him like your life depended on it. You–

“You should go,” you say shakily. I’ll miss you too, Sae. So much. You don’t even know.

“I should.” He doesn’t want to.

[You don’t see Sae Itoshi again until you’re on a cruise ship, celebrating your nineteenth birthday.]

192 notes · View notes

luminiamore · 2 days

Text

biker suguru geto x hoochie mama reader

part 2 lols

first part is here

warnings: toxic reader a bit, drinking, smoking, suguru goes crazy cause you block him, public sex, partayy, sugu and sato banter, down bad sugu, reader has intimacy issues, mean sugu

Click!

‘Come on, more face.’

Click! Click!

‘Just like that, perfect. Lean down a little.’

Click!

Another day brings another photo shoot. Waking up early to model for another brand was your ultimate pleasure. Being the center of attention wasn’t mandatory for you, but you had a liking for it. You had a feeling your day would be great today, and you weren’t wrong.

You were modeling for one of your favorite brands, Juicy Couture. You also had a party later. Satoru had begged you to come because he claims he hasn’t ‘seen you in forever. pleaseee, i miss you.’

Why, one may ask?

In reality, you were feeling a bit overwhelmed and needed a way to escape from the awful feeling. What’s a better way to do that than to distract yourself with what you’re most skilled at, being a star?

It’s been a few weeks since the night with Suguru, and you haven’t seen him since then. You were entirely responsible for this, but you would never admit it. You ghosted him, blocked his phone number, and avoided buying weed from Satoru to avoid seeing him again.

This is for the best, you thought. He could have made a woman insane with the way he slutted you out that day, and you didn’t want to deal with the consequences of his dick. Suguru had no idea how crazy you could get when you were attached, and you honestly believed you were saving him somehow.

The fact is, you were afraid. You were afraid to make a commitment because you were afraid of losing your heart again. From what Suguru looked like, it seemed like he was someone who could break hearts. Attachment issues can cause you to become overly bound to someone you really like. You made an effort to prevent that from happening before it even started.

The first day without any communication with him was fine. You carried on with your usual routine, except for one thing..he haunted your dreams that night. He penetrated both your mind and your pussy. He ate you and sucked all over your pussy lips with such haphazardness that you believed it was real. You pictured your spongy spot being abused by his fingertips until you cried and drowned him in cream and the remainder of your juices.

The next day, you awoke to a dripping pussy and sweat falling down your chest. You brushed it off, believing that it was just the result of having good sex. As time passed without you talking to him, the dreams became more intense. There were times when you would wake up in the middle of the night and couldn’t even go back to sleep until you made yourself cum. The image of him obscured your mind as your smaller fingers barely helped you reach your peak.

You had half a brain to believe this nigga was putting a spell on you. Did he really have an impact on you so much that you had to dream about him every night, even after trying to completely erase him from your mind? Did he? You snapped out of your thoughts as the photographer told you the next position he wanted you in. Get it together bitch.

Suguru probably didn’t even notice; he was probably with the next bitch right now.

How wrong you are.

- - -

“Satoru, I swear to god, if you don’t tell her to unblock me-”

A long sigh comes from the aforementioned man. This has to be the tenth time he has heard those words escape Suguru’s mouth today. He couldn’t take it. It’s been just a week since he had sex with you, he realized you blocked him after the first day. So you can imagine how many threats were sent Satoru’s way at your expense.

“I can’t do that! She told me if I mention you, she’ll block me too!”

Suguru just clenched his teeth and mumbled quiet curses under his breath with a frown, “This is pointless. I’m going to her house.”

“She’s not there. She told me she’s crashing at a friend’s place. And no, I have no idea where that friend lives.” He utters out, anticipating what the long-haired man would say.

“So, what the fuck do I do then?” Suguru swears he’s close to pulling out his hair.

“..Move on?”

“I’ll beat the fuck out of you right now.”

Satoru grumbled against the blunt that he was smoking, almost coughing because it hit his lungs a little harder than expected. He swears that both of you have put more stress on him than when he was pulled over yesterday.

“Oh, that’s just rude. But, fine. How about this? I’ll throw a party, beg her to come, and just conveniently forget to mention you’ll be there.”

Before Suguru starts to nitpick at his plan, he quickly finishes his statement with a grin, “And to make it even more interesting, I’ll tell her you absolutely hate parties.”

Suguru removes the burning joint from Satoru’s hand with a sly smile, “Looks like you’re not dumb after all.”

He can only roll his eyes fondly while his best friend quietly laughs and responds to him.

“Well, what can I say? I do have my moments of brilliance.”

- - -

You didn’t expect the time to get ready for the party to come sooner. You were in your friend’s bathroom, smoothing out the final strands of your side part bust down. Your makeup was already done and set. Your outfit had you smiling already. Your skirt is black leather and of course mini. The lowest cut white tank you could find that beautifully shows your leopard print bra.

After setting down the flat iron, you put on hoop earrings, gold bangles, and necklaces that match your outfit. To complete the look, your flawlessly manicured feet are adorned with clear strapless stripper heels. Tonight, someone was going home with you. To take your mind off the man who would not leave your dreams alone, you needed another good fuck.

“Yo, you ready? Uber’s here.”

You heard your friend’s voice from the living room. You quickly spray yourself with Chanel Coco perfume and hurry toward your companion, who is holding the door for you.

As expected, there were more than two hundred people present at another one of Satoru’s estates. You could hear the music for at least two blocks before you arrived. You can have your own opinion about the man, but the one thing you cannot say is that he lacks the ability to throw a party. People were dancing outside due to the high crowding inside.

Your friend holds your hand and takes you inside, already clapping and swaying a bit because she pre-grammed. The first hour went well. A few shots of Tequila and some Jack Daniel’s were already in your system as you and your friend danced in the sea of bodies. And the best of all, no sight of Suguru. It’s not like you were looking for him, of course not.

“Sis, you made it! Eugh, I’ve missed you like crazy.” You sense pressure on your shoulders and recognize him as Satoru based on his voice. The alcohol makes you realize how much you missed him as you flip around and bury your face in his chest.

Your words slur a bit, “Toru, missed you s’much.”

The scent of alcohol on your breath makes him grimace. Your brother grabs your shoulders and pushes your body towards the nearest wall, which happens to be next to the bathroom.

“Yeah, you definitely need some water. Seriously, how can you even stomach that stuff?”

You laugh at his disdain for drinking. He sees the friend you came with flirting with a guy at the opposite corner, and he thinks she looks pretty safe. He’ll still keep an eye on her in case he tries anything.

“Stay put. I’ll fetch you something non-alcoholic, lightweight.”

You sigh and nod, observing him as he leaves. You realize that the leather skirt you wore had pockets, and as you shuffle around, you feel something in one of them. You gasp. An exquisitely rolled pink joint. As you grab a blue lighter on the floor, which is probably Satoru’s, your eyes twinkle as you walk up to his room.

Even if you’re a bit intoxicated, you can still walk in a straight line, passing by many people on your way there. Once you find the door, you swiftly close it and breathe a sigh of relief upon seeing that there is no one inside. Opening his window, you take no hesitation in sparking up, and for some reason, the weed completely drowns out the tipsy feeling you had just moments ago.

You don’t hear when the door creaks open. Or even when it closes again with a click, indicating it was locked. The tension caused by someone sitting next to you on the bed causes you to immediately flinch and turn your head to the perpetrator.

“Miss me, sweetheart?”

You try to stammer out a response, opening and closing your mouth for a few seconds now. You’re so shocked to see him, and you’re sure once you find a way out of here, you’re going to beat Satoru’s ass for not telling you that he would be here.

He raises his hand and pushes a water bottle in your direction, “Have a drink.”

You hesitantly grab his bottle and look away, completely missing the way his eyes are obscuring your body with a hazy gaze. The thumping music is drowning out Suguru’s thoughts. Thoughts of.. fuck, you look good tonight. He’s not embarrassed to admit he missed you, your supple thighs and pretty face. After being away from you for weeks, it dawns on him now. Oh, he was going to ruin you.

After drinking half the plastic bottle, you settle down and ash the blunt from not taking a hit for a while. Suguru’s eyes never leave you for a second as you finally find the words to say, “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

He chortles, “You’ve been quite elusive, sweetheart. Care to explain your disappearing act?”

You stay quiet because what could you say, really?

‘Sorry, I ghosted you, but you fucked me so good, and I didn’t want to get attached.’?

That’s not you. Being around Suguru can make you feel nervous and vulnerable. That night felt like he stripped you beyond just your clothes and saw your soul completely. You’ve never experienced anything like that before.

“Should I fuck it out of you instead?” He asks with the same calmness as if he were discussing the weather.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” Your soft whisper fills the air.

You watch him pretend to think and make fun of him while rolling your eyes, “Hm, let’s start with why you blocked me after screaming at the top of your lungs that you’re mine.”

You give a long sigh before you ultimately utter, “I didn’t want to get attached. Last thing I need is another family filing a missing person’s report over me. I’ve been through the cheating mess once, not doing it again.”

There it goes again. Vulnerability seeping through whenever Suguru was around you. And Suguru’s not dumb, he can sense how difficult it was for those words to even tumble past your glossed lips.

Despite the loud music, there is a silence between you. It ends when Suguru violently grasps your chin and presses his lips on yours with a nasty kiss that leaves you with a pleasant sigh.

A peck. “Do y’know..”

Another peck. “..how fucking crazy it drove me..”

One long smooch. “..not hearing from you.”

He’s desperately pulling your tank top off you, effortlessly clipping off your bra, “Could barely sleep.”

He instantly wraps your nipple around his soft lips. You gasp as you tug at his tangled hair with your hands.

He groans, already drunk off a minor taste of you, “Couldn’t even cum properly, sweetheart. Pathetic, right?”

You whimper and squeal when he lifts you up and places your exposed ass right on the growing erection he’s had since you first walked into the party. Your wetness was detectable to him as it dripped through your panties, seeping through the jeans he was wearing. He didn’t even have to tell you to start grinding on him, you did that all on your own.

“Have you thought of me at all? Maybe I should give you a spanking for every..” Spank! “..single” Spank! “..day you haven’t spoken to me.”

You hysterically moan and hiss at the sting as he rubs his hand to soothe your ass.

“M’speaking to you, baby.”

He plays with the straps of your thong from the back, then rips them off in one go. His long fingers snaked down to spread apart your wet pussy lips. He’s playing with you. You realize this. But you’ve been so eager to have him play with you again that you don’t seem to care.

Your shaky words are stammered out with hiccups, “Yes! Every n-night I swear. I kept d-dreaming of you, only you, Sugu!”

With his eyes closed, he mutters a curse under his breath. You dream of him? Every night? Why torture the both of you like this? He wonders. You could’ve had him in your bed every night if you weren’t so fucking stubborn.

Suguru breathes out, “Yeah? What’d I do in those dreams of yours, sweetheart?”

You don’t reply and hide your pretty face in his chest, the fabric of his tee gently touching your skin. You’re feeling embarrassed for thinking of something so obscene. You? Embarrassed? Who is this man? This man is turning you into a piece of putty in his hands. In his beautiful, big hands.

“Better start talking. Won’t fuck you till you tell me.”

You give a pitiful cry when he plunges his long fingers into your plushy, tight hole, keeping them still. Grinding and bucking your hips is a way to get him to move, but it’s not enough. Your hips are securely held by Suguru’s unoccupied hand.

You finally give in, “Y-You would have me on my knees as you- as you ate me f-from the back.”

His laugh makes you even wetter with his fingers, and you have no doubt that he can tell. He gives you a drooling kiss, “Really? I would’ve done that eventually. But you don’t deserve my tongue for what you did. Not now, anyway.”

Your cute whine at such a confession almost makes him reconsider. So, he shuts you up with a quick swat to your ass and a harsh pace of his fingers moving in and out of you, “Shh. What else did I do, sweetheart?”

He was becoming impatient. He wanted to be inside of you, but you were whimpering against him and not giving him answers. This was paining him as much as it was paining you. The hard dick that was leaking pre-cum from his angry red tip in his pants was a testament to that.

Another harsh slap to your sore ass, “You’re really pushing it. Waited weeks just to have you again, and now you’re still making me wait?”

You sob out quickly, “You- You fucked my mouth, and you p-put it- in here,” You shake your hand as you reach for him from behind and pull him towards your puckered hole. Suguru’s surprise was apparent, his eyes widening at your words. You were destined to be his death.

No more waiting.

He couldn’t anymore, not after what you just said. Suguru lifts you up and drops you on the bed. He is clamoring to enter the heaven in between your thighs. He only partially undresses his shirt, showing off his smooth skin and abs. He hastily unbuckles his belt, pushing his jeans down just enough to make his cock slap against his chest with a dirty squelch sound.

He wasn’t even wearing boxers. It’s almost as if he knew he would be stuffed deep into your soft, tight pussy tonight.

The panting man gives your pussy two flicks before he spreads your lips apart and forces his cock inside of you. It’s been quite some time, at least it feels like that, since he’s been inside of you. Yet, your pussy doesn’t hesitate to accommodate his vast girth like it knows who it belongs to. Him. And it will only ever be him if Suguru has a say in it. And you can trust that after he’s done with you, he will.

It’s so filthy. How you desperately buck your hips against him to force him deeper inside you despite whispering against his ear that you “C-can’t take it. Ah! T’much- too f-fucking-”

It’s so sloppy. The sounds you make as he feeds you deep, fast strokes, your pussy being so wet that it’s spreading across your thighs every single time his hips meet yours in a frenzy.

Your eyes roll back in your head as Suguru puts his hand around your throat and squeezes, blocking your airway while frantically saying, “Shut the fuck up. You’re gonna take everything I give this perfect pussy. Understand?”

What more can you do but wail and scream out broken whimpers of ‘Yes!’ and ‘Please.’ What were you even begging for? It couldn’t possibly be any less than what he was feeding your battered pussy as you harshly dug your nails down his back, no doubt leaving scratches. Your mouth is wide open as Suguru fucks you, drool dripping from the side of your plump lips.

He can’t help but think, you never looked more beautiful. You’re being split apart by his fat dick, and through your adorable haze, you’re starting to wonder how you ever went weeks without him. He’s being particularly cruel, not even prepping you and showing no mercy as he finds solace in your shivering body. You’re vulnerable, receiving his ferocious punches against your g-spot.

You feel the all too familiar pressure in your abdomen, it’s burning and spreading throughout your entire quivering body. You try to warn him that you’re gonna cum, try to force the words past your lips, but you can’t. He fucks it out of you every time you try, and the hand on your throat barely lessens its pressure. You are confined to giving a silent scream as your squirts cover the groaning man above you in stream-like spurts.

Suguru keeps going, only grabbing one of your feet that is pressing on his chest and putting it in his mouth, slobbering all over your white toes. He breathes against you, eyes low, watching your chest heaving, “Never pull that stunt again. Swear to me, you’ll never do it again.”

Even as he eased his grip on your throat so you could speak, you were barely coherent. His eyes bore into yours with such intensity that it caused another mini orgasm out of you. His entire length is coated in a beautiful white cream paste that almost makes him lose his mind when he glances down.

Will power. That’s the only reason Suguru hasn’t dumped his heavy load in your cunt already. You squeal, your following words a breathless, “Swear! Never again, p-promise. Want you s’bad Sugu. M’all yours!”

“Yeah, you are. Mine, and only mine. I’ll drill that into your brain all night if I have to. Make damn sure you never even think about pulling some dumb shit like that again.”

#lumiwrites #jjk x black reader #geto suguru #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #geto suguru x black reader smut #fanfic #geto suguru smut #geto x black reader #suguru geto smut #jujutsu geto #geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru #jjk suguru #getou suguru x you #gojo satoru x black reader #jujutsu gojo

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becsabillion4 · 3 days

Text

false god (we still worship)

pairing: carmen berzatto x f!reader

summary: Carmen has a bad shift, but you’re more than willing to turn his night around and show him exactly how good he is.

word count: 3,362

tags: SMUT, rough sex, unprotected sex, oral sex, creampie, semi-public sex, window sex, lingerie, praise kink, vulnerable Carmy, 18+ only

note: this is explicit 18+ only and yet again NOT an advert for safe sex. with that said, it’s fucking hot ;) and thank you to the wonderful person who submitted the prompt that inspired this, based around Carmy having a tough day and reader taking care of him (even though I’ve failed at tumblr and can’t find the original message). enjoy!!

thesydkid

Yo. Awful shift. Glad you weren’t here to see it.

whochefsouschef

fuckkk what happened?

thesydkid

Newbies think they know better than Tina because they went to CIA. You can imagine how Carmy took that.

whochefsouschef

was it kyle? he’s been like that since he started.

thesydkid

Yeah

Classic

whochefsouschef

syd?

I know that’s not all. kyle doesn’t warrant a text warning

thesydkid

Carm got food sent back.

whochefsouschef

shit.

thanks for the heads up

thesydkid

Good luck, cya tomorrow.

—------------------------------

It’s late, the kind of late where even the drunks winding through the streets have stopped their singing, the kind where it’s already too late to go to bed and get an ounce of good sleep. It’s the kind of late where you would have known it was a bad night even if Sydney hadn’t texted you first, because you know how hard Carmy cleans when he’s upset, and exactly how long that takes.

You sit up in bed abruptly, pushing your hair out of your face and considering your options. You have maybe ten minutes if Sydney texted you as soon as Carmy left, ten minutes to decide how you want to handle this kind of bad day. You feel a surge of frustration that you weren’t on shift tonight. As the Front of House Manager, you could have soothed the moronic, greedy, power-tripping customer who wanted to pull one over on the best chef in Chicago by sending back his perfect food-

Actually, maybe it was for the best you weren’t on shift tonight, or you might no longer have a job.

You smile when you think about how Richie will have handled it though. His courteous, collected energy even as he probably said something like, “Oh, you’d like to send this back? Wow, I’ve never heard a, uh - what do you call ‘em - oh, complaint before. Are you sure you know what this dish is?”

The smile fades when you think about Carmy’s reaction. You push yourself out of bed, decided by the image of his frustration, the anger he uses to hide his sadness. There’s been a few particularly bad shifts since you and Carmy moved in together - and Richie labelled himself as “matchmaker to the stars” for hiring you - and you know that if left to his own devices, Carmy will happily stay up all night stewing.

But you’re here now, and you’re determined not to let him. So you set your plan in motion.

By the time you hear his keys clink in the lock, you’re settled by the sofa, bare skin slightly chilled by the evening air coming in from the cracked window. You glance up as Carmy walks in, catch his eye, and he stops dead, hand still on the lock.

Bluer-than-blue eyes flicker across the scene you’re presenting for him - your best lingerie, your patient kneel, steady eyes - and he straightens from his tired stoop.

“Hey,” he murmurs, eyes still tracing how the lace drapes across your skin in the low light.

“Hi,” you smile. “Join me?”

Without looking away from you, Carmy shuts the door, drops his stuff in a careless pile. “Syd texted?”

“I couldn’t sleep. And I wanted to surprise you.”

Carmy’s eyes drift away from you for a second, glancing around the room, like he does when he’s thinking something through. You can almost hear his brain clicking through the gears. Turning the kitchen off, turning something else on.

“It was bad, sweetheart,” he says. “Fuckin’ shitty.”

“It’s over.” You raise a hand to him, tilt your head towards the sofa. “Get over here and let me do filthy things to you to make up for it.”

He laughs at that, toes off his shoes and takes the few steps to the sofa. He doesn’t sink into the cushions like you expected though, but kneels in front of you. You reach out, run a hand over the side of his face, feel the days-old stubble rasping under your touch. Bringing your other hand up, you cup his face, thumbs tracing over the bags under his eyes like you can smooth them out with that simple touch. You can feel his exhaustion in the way he leans forward into the feeling, and it breaks something in you.

When you kiss him, you intend for it to be careful and slow. Bring him out of his shell, remind him that things outside The Bear exist. But the moment your mouths press together, the moment you nip the edge of his bottom lip, the drained and defeated Carmy is gone.

He surges forward, almost sending you tipping over backwards, arms wrapping around your waist. One hand slides to your lower back, stretching to cover as much of your skin as he can possibly grasp. Pulling you forward, Carmy bows his head to suck a bruise into your throat and you know for damn sure it’ll be visible tomorrow. A glaring mark, a “fuck you” to the rest of the world painted on your skin.

Your hands are far from idle either, and as one pulls at his T-shirt, rucking it up to explore the muscles beneath, you run a finger from the other over the arch of his ear. Carmy shudders in a broad, full-body motion and his hips stutter, jerk forward into you. You both moan at the contact and you want to chase it, feel him pressed between your thighs, but clearly Carmy has other ideas.

He reaches under your arms and pulls you up to stand with him, letting his hands continue their journey down your sides to reach your waist. All you have time to do is gasp as he hoists you off your feet, and he’s already walking towards your floor-length window as you desperately try to wrap your legs around his waist. He doesn’t give you much chance to breathe, the hand not holding you up pushing deep into your hair and curling strands around his fingers so he can pull your head back, press more kisses to the hollow of your throat.

For a dizzying moment, you can see the lights of Chicago upside down, but you manage to pull your head up just before your back hits the cold glass. You hiss at the chill against your bared skin and Carmy runs a hot palm around to your back in apology even as his tongue continues its insistent sweeps against your own.

You barely register the soft clink of his belt, the push and rustle of fabric between you until his cock is pressed close, the only thing keeping it from filling you your own stupid lacy underwear.

With a frustrated groan, Carmy gently lowers you until your feet sink into the carpet, but he still gives you no room to move, pressing you into the misted-up glass as if he can’t tear his body from yours.

“Carmy,” you pant, unsure what you’re asking, but you know he understands when he grabs your upper arm, spins you around to face the view. The glass is warmer now, but still cold enough that the press of your barely-concealed nipples to its surface makes you moan as you hear Carmy kneel, feel him sliding your panties down your legs.

He doesn’t even let them reach your ankles before he’s up again, kissing his way along your spine as he goes, and finally, finally, the head of his cock nestles in where it needs to be.

Its hot and heavy presence has you pushing your hips back, wanting to feel the glorious slide of him, lose yourself in the moment he splits you, and all you can see, eyes half-slitted in pleasure, are the glittering lights of the city below. You live pretty high up and the lights are low enough that none of the busy pedestrians below should see, but all it would really take is a glance up and an observant eye. To see your breasts pressed against the glass, Carmy’s possessive hands gripping your hips as he finally drives into you. Even from this distance, you imagine the pleasure on your own face and your walls flutter around Carmy until he growls, pulls your hands from where they were flat against the window into a bind behind you.

There is nothing kind and gentle about this moment, no give in Carmy’s body as he fucks into you, and you revel in it. Let him take his pain and translate it into pleasure through your body. Let him take and take and take until he has nothing left to give, and let the world see him doing it. Let them see what’s his.

These thoughts alone have you teetering, desperate for a few more strokes, but the surprise of Carmy reaching around to draw lazy circles over your clit as he snarls, “Fucking look at you, look how good you take me,” has you seizing up instantly. You can faintly hear your own surprised cry through the buzzing in your ears, and Carmy’s gasps as he feels you pulsate around him, but you only fully come back to yourself when you press your forehead against the blessedly cool glass.

The strength of your orgasm is enough that your legs are visibly shaking now, and without a word, Carmy bends to scoop up your lower half and pulls you in, cradling you across his front. You close your eyes for a moment, trying to calm your breathing as you push your face into his chest, but before you can even begin to get your head straight, you feel soft sheets on your back as he lowers you to the bed.

He sinks down beside you, and all his desperation from a moment ago is gone as his body finally relaxes. He’s still hard and straining towards you, but the light has dimmed in his eyes, so when you reach for him, it’s to run a hand across his cheek, to bring his eyes to yours. When you move towards him, it’s to curl your legs with his, to press your forehead against his and settle his breathing with your own.

People think Carmy is so used to taking shit that it doesn’t hurt him anymore, but you know. You know how each word drives so deep that he doesn’t know how to take good anymore, how he invites the anger and the aggression of a kitchen into his soul because the alternative is realising that all the shit he’s been through is too awful, too devastating to reconcile. To keep feeling it, so he has no time to wonder what his life would be without it.

You see the weakness and the fear and the vulnerability, and you know how he absorbs the feeling and translates it into his work, how he uses it to fuel him, how he turns the criticism and the insults and the hatred into being better, being perfect, doing a good job.

“You are so wonderful, Carmy,” you murmur, and when he tries to look away, you hold his head still. “Tell me what happened.”

“Nothing. Shit, not really anything.” You’re silent, and he sighs as he caves under the pressure of your gaze. “Back when I was in New York, you remember that chef I told you about?”

You nod, because you know you can’t say anything remotely okay about that particular chef.

“He had this thing, about pasta. Thought he was some kind of expert because he spent, like, three months with Massimo Bottura. We had to boil water from cold every time, for every single batch of pasta we served, and there was this exact amount of salt we had to add. It wasn’t like a teaspoon, it was seven point three grams for every hundred of pasta. And he could fucking tell if you were off, he barely had to taste it. One time I saw him smell somebody’s pasta and tell them they were off by point two.” Carmy’s voice is shaking, and you move your thumb along his cheekbone slowly, calmly, giving him something to root himself to. Remind him he’s not there.

“And I was thinking about it while I was cooking the bucatini, and it’s like he was in the room again, saying the same shit he always did. Watching over my shoulder as I added the salt, and it made me so mad,” Carmy mutters, breaths coming in pants now. “And I didn’t even think, I just added like way too much salt. Enough to fuckin’ ruin it, ‘cos I just wanted to see him choke on it. And then I sent it out.”

You don’t take your eyes from his face as you curl one hand down to straighten the fingers of his, to stop the nails he’s digging deep into his palm from cutting into his skin.

“And of course it got sent back, and Richie apologised and comped their bill, and they didn’t care. But, like, I just sabotaged my own restaurant. My own reputation, becuase I can’t stop fuckin’ thinking about salting pasta,” Carmy finishes in a rush, and he finally meets your eyes.

“Carmy, you’re working in a kitchen every day. It’s no surprise you remember other kitchens you’ve been in, and the kind of behaviour you’ve had to endure. But it’s not that kitchen anymore. This is your kitchen we’re talking about, your space. When you look over your shoulder, he’s not there anymore. Syd is, and she’s got your back. We’re not some pristine, sterile team with no heart. Richie’s there.” You feel a surge of emotion so strong for the brilliant, vulnerable man in front of you that you push your face into his shoulder, hard enough that he has to steady himself from falling back onto the bed. His other hand comes up to card loosely through your hair, and you suppress a soft noise of comfort to finish with, “I’m there.”

“I know, baby,” he responds, pulling you closer until you’re practically curled into his lap. “And I think it’ll get easier, it’s already easier. I just don’t think I’ll ever entirely stop sabotaging myself. I’m not like the food I make, I’m not composed and-and, perfect. I’m not, uh, not always good at stuff.”

“Okay, but you’re good plenty of the time,” you whisper, looking up at him. You smile as he glances down, catches your eye. “I could go on for days about the stuff you’re good at.”

“Oh yeah?” Carmy murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead, down and round the edge of your face to the shell of your ear. You shiver instinctively, press into the feeling.

“You’re good at that. Good at getting me out of control,” and your voice is already shaking.

“You’re not out of control, babe. I’ve got you. You’re mine,” Carmy is muttering inbetween kisses as he rolls you onto your back, pins your arms to your sides with his legs and begins to fully slide off your lingerie, slowly, carefully. His hands are, as always, steady. You remember all the times you’ve watched him roll a cigarette, piece together edible art as flames lick at his chef’s whites, and you can’t remember a time you’ve seen them shake.

From the eye of the storm he’s creating in you, you watch as he slides down the bed, skimming his lips across your trembling thighs until he sits back, and moves his hands to your knees.

You can almost feel the pleasure it gives him as, at the lightest touch from him, you part your legs, let him see what he does to you. What he has done. When he growls, you realise he can see remnants of your earlier escapade against the window at your entrance, his come marking you.

When Carmy dips his finger inside you, your hips jerk towards him, but he holds them down with one hand. His finger delves deep for a moment, and then leaves you suddenly, but before you can protest, he brings his hand to your face, offers you the digit. You’re entranced by the silent command in his eyes, and with no hesitation, you open your mouth and let Carmy’s come-covered finger slide inside, press deep towards the back of your throat. When you swallow, the bitterness makes you moan, envision being on your knees for Carmy, his fingers twined so deep into your hair it hurts, feeling his white-hot heat at the back of your throat.

It breaks whatever tension was stretched taut between you, and Carmy wraps his arms around your legs, pulls your body towards him and lowers his face between your thighs. For a moment, he teases you, nibbling at the juncture where your leg curves into your hip, skimming his teeth across the bone, but you know he’s secretly just as impatient as you are, and when he takes his first tender lick across your clit, he moans even louder than you do.

Giving head is an art for Carmy, and feels like a privilege to you. You’ve seen him enjoy food in the kitchen, give somebody that blown-away glance that they’ve worked their whole lives to see, but he never takes more than one bite.

But this, with you, as you watch him devour you whole...It’s the only meal you’ve ever watched him finish.

Tongue swirling delicately across your center, breaking for hungry kisses to your thighs as his hands grasp at any inch of you he can reach, you can’t help the words that spill from you, “yes, yes, Carmy, you’re so good, you make me feel so good, my good boy, please-“, but you can’t continue as he slides two fingers deep inside your aching pussy, so deep you don’t ever want him to move.

At this point in the erotic novels you read during your lunch break (which, if Fak were to find them, would spell the end of your career), the heroine says something about how it feels like hours pass with her lover between her legs. But this is real life, and all Carmy has to do is mutter, “Finish for me baby, finish for me,” for you to come embarrassingly quickly.

You’re practically incoherent on the comedown, and all you can summon the strength to do is pull him into you, press kisses to his forehead and mumble over and over how fucking amazing he makes you feel.

“If you lose everything else, Carmy, if you ever think there isn’t a thing in this world you’re any good at, just know that you are a god at giving head,” you pant eventually, and when he pushes his face into your neck, you can feel his smile there.

For a moment more, you just enjoy the press of his body against yours, revel in the sweat and slick between you. It dawns on you slowly just how slick it feels, and you gasp as you realise-

“Carmy, did you-?”

Carmy laughs into your skin, tracing one hand across your chest idly until you shiver. “Yeah. You, uh, you were moaning and telling me how good I was and…it was hot.”

You laugh with him breathlessly, still kind of in awe at how well you fit after all this time, how at home you feel with him. “Well, I hope that made your bad day a little better.”

Carmy is silent for a second before he murmurs, “You have no idea what you do for me,” and you can see the shine of his eyes in the glitter of the city lights filtering through your window. “There can never be a bad day if I end it right here, in this bed, in your arms.”

You would reply, but he’s kissing you into silence before you can, and you wonder for a moment if any words will ever need to be said between you and Carmy again, or whether you can communicate all the fear, all the anger, all the love, just with kisses and touch and his lips against yours. But eventually, as you slip into sleep with his body twined around yours, you decide that tongues were made for more than just talking.

#becsabillion #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #Carmen berzatto x ofc #the bear #the bear fanfiction #carmy the bear #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #carmen berzatto smut #jeremy allen white #the bear fandom

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andavs · 15 hours

Text

One last unhinged theory before the finale kicks off, inspired by @captain-hen’s genius anon: witness protection

Councilwoman Olivia Ortiz is back for reasons, maybe she’s running for mayor or something

She’s buried the details around her son’s death while running a tough on crime platform or maybe getting drugs out of the city, but she’s actually corrupt and has some shady criminal connections

There’s a warehouse fire that’s related to something she’s connected to, 118 responds and they find evidence that wasn’t fully destroyed—not about Ortiz specifically, but something shady happening there

A Bad Guy sees the names Wilson, Han, and Diaz on their turnouts as they're talking to the cops and handing over the evidence they found—maybe Buck and Bobby were in a different section of the building at the time

Ortiz realizes that’s also the team that responded to her son’s accident and they can bring down her entire career if they figure out she’s involved

Her shady connections realize that if she goes down, their pull with the local government also goes down, so they take matters into their own hands to protect their interests

The shady contacts organize a way to take out Hen, Chimney, and Eddie, but Ortiz goes to Athena to warn them because she doesn’t want three innocent people to die

To keep the bad guys from continuing to pursue them or going after anyone else, they fake that the murder plot worked and announce that Hen, Chimney, and Eddie all died in the line of duty

They get one last goodbye at the station before they get hustled into nondescript vans and taken into protection while Athena builds a case with Ortiz to bring down her criminal connections

Their families know they’re actually alive but have to keep up the facade of grieving, and also they’re apart and can’t communicate with each other, except maybe sending rare messages/photos through Athena that they don’t get to keep.

It’s a storyline that gives everyone something to do:

Hen, Chimney, and Eddie are suddenly isolated somewhere new and living under new names

Chimney finally married the love of his life and now they can’t even be together until the case is finished, and now he’s the one watching Jee grow up from afar

Maddie’s completely on her own with Jee for the first time since her PPD, but now she’s totally got this mom thing down—she just has to juggle that with work so maybe we get more of the Lees!

Hen and Karen have Mara who’s only just getting comfortable with them, only for Hen to be taken away and for Karen to suddenly have to handle all of it by herself

Who is Hen when she’s not a firefighter, paramedic, or mother?

Eddie’s finally over Shannon and ready to move forward and then he’s yanked out of his life and completely isolated, probably working as a mechanic or something

Buck has to move into Eddie’s house with Chris and actually take on the role of full time parent, even though they both know Eddie will be back in a few months

(Maybe Buck and Eddie had a Moment but all of this happened before they got to talk about it and now they can’t talk about but they both know something shifted but will it still be shifted when all of this is finally over?)

Athena’s working on a seriously high profile case and all the dangers that come with it

Bobby’s holding the remains of his team together while knowing it’s temporary, and also probably still recovering from whatever the fuck is about to happen to him, if not physically then mentally

#getting it out of my brain before i start writing a fic or something

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thesummerestsolstice · 2 days

Text

I have seen multiple Silm fics now where Elrond ends up taking in/becoming lord of the remaining Feanorians after M&M's deaths. I think this is a great idea for a few reasons:

All the remaining Feanorians are diehard followers who aren't fit for civil society and I think Elrond is the only one who can stop them from choosing violence

They're probably pretty fucked up and could use the attention of Middle Earth's best healer (physically and mentally)

If the Feanorians are busy making sure Elrond sleeps enough they'll have less time to scheme and do crime

Elrond has a highly-competent Feanorian bodyguard, Elrond spends most of his time with Gil-Galad, therefore, Gil-Galad effectively also now has a highly-competent Feanorian bodyguard, which is a good thing given what tends to happen to high-kings of the Noldor

Smiling sunshine Peredhel being followed by an escort of the scariest imaginable murder elves will never not be funny

That said, I feel like we don't talk enough about how absolutely insane that would be from an outside perspective. Like the twin sons of a Nolofinwean prince and a Sindarin princess show up in your camp having been stolen from their home and held hostage by Feanorians for deacdes. This is the first time they've been free since they were six years old. Even if the hostages thing wasn't really true after a while it's still absolutely what everyone else would assumed.

And then later the Feanorians show up looking pathetic after their last lords die. And all of a sudden one of their former hostages is volunteering to effectively put himself in their custody again. There was no way that did not set off every imaginable alarm bell for most of the people in Gil-Galad's camp. I'm pretty sure most of them assumed that Elrond had been brainwashed and was willingly becoming a Feanorian prisoner/hostage again (rumors not helped by him constantly being trailed by the scariest murder elves in existence). A few of the others probably thought Elrond was doing it as part of some long-haul revenge plot against them. You cannot tell me everyone was just okay with him doing that. That is a situation made entirely out of red flags.

#silmarillion #silm headcanons #elrond #elrond peredhel #kidnap fam #kidnap dads #feanorians #elrond bby what the fuck are you doing #I support him but still #Gil-galad probably had to deal with so much bullshit because of the peredhel

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kinardscoffee · 2 days

Note

I think Tim Minear just confirmed tommyBuck being a LTR with the video that he just posted…

What is your opinion?

Honestly?

The video is just another piece of evidence showing that bucktommy is here for the long run.

To me, the very first confirmation that bucktommy was going to be a LTR was Tim's interview, where he said that he wanted Buck off the hamster wheel and that he didn't want another LI that was siloed off from the 118.

I feel like I'm constantly repeating myself here, but that's fucking important and I don't really understand why some people can't understand that.

I mean, sure... "they" like to argue that, obviously, Eddie wouldn't be siloed off, but what people don't seem to understand is that if Eddie and Buck were to become a couple... one of them WOULD be siloed off.

(I hate the word "siloed.")

There are a few reasons behind this.

1. Look at Bathena and Madney. The two couples that are made up of main characters. One of them, usually the non-member of the 118, gets pushed back. I mean, yes, they still have large storylines, but they usually separate them from their LI. Or their LI is put in harms way because of it. Do we really want less time with one or even both of our mains? Especially Buck and Eddie, the dynamic duo?

2. What happens when they experience relationship issues? Imagine you get into an argument with your significant other. Something nice about having a job is you get to get away, blow off some steam, vent to your work bestie... but like... they work together... ON 24 HOUR SHIFTS. That is a recipe for disaster, not only for them, but for the entire team.

3. Based on #2, they probably wouldn't be allowed to work the same shifts. So, we would have to have someone replace both Buck and Eddie on their new respective shifts. Not to mention... they would have Christopher. And, as a couple one would need to be there for him and for when he has school stuff or just personal things in general.

None of these things are ideal. And seeing as people think we already see too much of Bobby and Athena? It would be too much work to juggle the Buddie dynamic.

Sorry... got really off track, Anon!

Back to the video.

Tim is going to post, write, and say what he wants to. He has no obligation to feed either side of the fandom just to keep them happy and, as we've seen, he doesn't. He cut the karaoke song and then showed the script to get people off his ass and to stop sending him DEATH THREATS. Like, jfc. If he wanted that side to shut up, all he had to do is post some Buddie pictures and move on... but that's not what he's done.

He's gone back and said he picked the wrong song. He's posted the articles specifically about Buck's bi awakening and his relationship with Tommy. And then he posted that video.

To me, that video says, "This is the direction I'm going. This person is correct. I like what this video says." So. Yes. It is yet another confirmation of bucktommy Long Term Romcom goodness.

And can I just add... if Tim really did pull this relationship out of his ass last minute even though we see all these parallels and invisible string theory... wouldn't you want to take credit for that and explore it?

I know I fucking would.

#oh dear lord i rambled #anyway the video speaks volumes #even tho others say otherwise #911 abc #bucktommy #evan buckley #911 fandom #tommy kinard #tevan #kinley #anon 🩵#bree goes off script

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absolutelymarshmallow · 3 days

Text

This is my favourite scene in the show

I never noticed how complex Crowley’s outfit is in this scene. There’s red embroidery, a black sash. The rob itself is supposed to be rough, heavy, grey.

However, in the first scene in the show, Aziraphale’s robes are light, white, cotton, gold embroidered, and two-pieced. A poncho, and a skirt. His outfit is supposed to look generic, like an angel uniform. Heaven adopted this odd, manufactured, cold neatness after the fall.

Crowley’s outfit after the fall is more like a dress. It’s being held together by the black sash. It also looks more fitted to his body, and this makes me suspect that he made this himself. The Color scheme is also fitting to his hair.

Crowley had always been naturally dramatic, everyone knows that. However, I think this is his first minor ‘fuck you’ to hell. The heaven Color scheme is grey, white, tan, gold, and primarily purple. However, before, it was primarily gold and white. Aziraphale has ways opted for golds and whites as well, but he also has a love for browns and blues. This is how you know it’s a heaven uniform.

Hell’s color scheme in the beginning is yet to be observed but it’s probably not grey, black, and red. Those are all Crowley’s colors.

He’s been separating himself from hell since the very beginning. I say *first* ‘fuck-you’ because he had been wearing these robes before he gave humans the apple: an accidental good deed, the original good-natured rebellion.

Aziraphale has been accidentally doing ‘bad’ (or minorly negative) things since the beginning as well. He got caught up trying to save an angel, he gave away a sword, and most importantly he the concept invented war and weaponry in the human history.

I think this scene’s importance gets lost on a lot of people.

Aziraphale shielding Crowley is also very, very important, no matter how adorable. He, at this point, remembers Crowley. He looks guilty, nervous even, when he sees him slither up to him. Not just because he’s a snake, but you can see there’s something small and personal that he’s trying his best to hide. I think he knows.

Then, he learns his name for the first time, it just happens to be his demonic one. He never mentions his angel name, *never*, because he doesn’t know it. But more importantly, he doesn’t want to offend Crowley.

And yet they have a meaningful conversation, which is !also! very important. The first time he meets him as an angel, Aziraphale looks like he’s flustered and smitten. He fell first, literally and figuratively. However, Crowley isn’t at all interested in making conversation with this angel. He’s just excitedly talking about stars. Which, I admit, is adorable, but it wasn’t in any way of meaning other than that’s when they met.

Aziraphale realises how this *new* first, important conversation is utterly vital, in their relationship. Crowley is interested in Aziraphale, and he *does not remember him* at *all*. To Crowley, he’s lost all his memories now, which he regains later over a few millennia. I suspect, he’s regained all his memories by the book of Job, which is why he acts how he does.

Crowley falls in love immediately. Angels, fallen or otherwise, have shown him nothing but disrespect since he fell. And here’s this Angel trying to help him. Aziraphale indeed has guilt, but seeing someone he knew like this, wiped clean and ‘disfigured’ (or, beautiful), makes him realise what the fall actually *was*.

Just think.

An innocent star maker. And now he sees Crowley, the *real* Crowley. He’s witty, and fun, and outward. He’s making conversation, he’s comforting, he’s sarcastic.

He’s a real being.

And how neat.

So, he holds on. He shields him. Like he was shielded before, equally innocent and new to the universe, as Crowley’s now new to earth.

He sees himself.

Aziraphale is a lot more mature with how he treats Crowley in the beginning than people realise, but he loses that later once they start forming their own side, also in the book of Job.

Emotions are complicated. I know I’ve been talking for a long time, but I think it’s neat is all.

#good omens #good omens season 1 #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #in the beginning

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 1 day

Text

HBCU CONFESSIONS.

Erik x Valencia

Smut

Part One.

What am I going to do? I’m pregnant and it’s my freshman year. I don’t know if I should keep the baby or not. Any advice?

-Florida A&M

My stupid boyfriend cheated on me so I fucked his homeboy. Now both of them are fighting over me 🤭

-Hampton

I think my roommate has a thing for me. I’m not gay, but I’ve caught myself staring at his dick a few times. This shit is confusing me. I don’t like dick I like pussy!

-Morehouse College

My girlfriend wants me to eat her butt. She keeps begging me to do it. Who on here ever ate ass before? I need some advice because gahdamn she won’t leave a nigga alone.

-Morgan State

I already know what yall gonna say but I don’t give a fuck. My homegirl keep telling me about how her man is cheating on her. He’s cheating with me. I’m the side chick. The D is just too good. At this point I’m already too far gone. Judge me if you want I don’t care 🤷🏿‍♀️

-Clark Atlanta University

I had a train ran on me the other night. No, they didn’t fuck me. They ate me 😩 and it was a bunch of Omegas! Since they like to show their tongue so much I wanted to see which one of them could make me cum the hardest 😘

-Howard University

-I wish to remain anonymous. I’m not as experienced in the sex department and I am 21 years old. I want to hook up with someone here. Maybe I have unrealistic expectations, but I want it to be with someone I’ve been eyeing around campus. He doesn’t know I exist, but he’s so beautiful. If I could just have one chance with him…

-Texas Southern

“I did it.”

Valencia shut her MacBook Pro and fell back against her bed within her dorm room. Across from her sat her roommate, Brielle. They’d been roommates since freshman year.

“It was an anonymous submission, right? Nothing to worry about.” Brielle replied while looking over her notes for her A&P lab practical.

“I know, but what if someone figures it out?—

Her phone buzzed next to her thigh again.

“Jesus…he keeps fucking calling me.”

Brielle chuckles, “His ego is bruised. He probably wants to make sure you don’t say anything about it.”

“It’s been a week. He needs to let the shit go.”

Valencia ends the call for the eighth time that rainy evening. She’s already angry with herself for even allowing that man to have his way with her body. It was the worst experience. Worse than her first time.

“Head was trash, dick was trash…”

“So, I guess it isn’t all true that Que’s are great in bed, huh?” Brielle jokes.

“It’s definitely not true. I just wish it was with him.”

Valencia grabbed a pillow and screamed into it. Brielle simply laughed at her antics.

“Isn’t he a Que too?” Brielle questions.

“He is. Maybe he’ll be the exception.”

Valencia slowly removed the pillow from her face and blinked her eyes up at the ceiling. Butterflies formed in her belly just thinking about him.

“He’s so damn fine, Brie. Like, why couldn’t it be him that had all of this instead of Isaiah?!”

“Who is this again? Girl, you know my attention span is fucked up.” Brielle replied with a laugh.

“His name is Erik. He’s getting his doctorate.”

“Hm,” Brielle highlighted a section in her textbook orange, “How old is he?”

“I don’t know, like…thirties maybe?”

“Since when do you like them older?” Brielle asked with a shocked tone of voice.

“Since now! He’s too fine, Brie. And he’s really smart. Like a genius. He has so many accomplishments. A sexy nerd.”

“He sounds like he’s out of your league—”

“He’s also a TA—”

Brielle’s eyes went wide.

“A TA? Girl…don’t do it.”

Valencia had to admit that Brielle was right.

“It’ll never happen anyway. That man walks past me everyday like he doesn’t see me. I’ll just crush from afar at this point I don’t even know why I sent that fucking message.”

Valencia pouted in bed. Silence filled the room as she laid there staring at the television. Brielle was completely absorbed into her notes to care. Valencia could be doing some schoolwork herself, but the thought of her anonymous ask kept circulating in her mind.

Valencia sat up on her elbow and reached for her laptop again. Brielle cut her brown eyes at her and smirked playfully. Valencia checked the blog and noticed one note. Clicking on it, it was just a like. Her submission is nothing compared to the other wild confessions.

“There he goes again,” Brielle motioned with her eyes at Valencia’s phone, “Do you want me to cuss his ass out? Block that nigga!”

Valencia grabbed her phone and proceeded to block him.

“You know I have Chemistry with that limp dick fucker, right?” Brielle said.

“Just ignore him, Brie. He’ll be alright.”

“He keeps harassing you!”

Valencia sat her laptop on their shared desk. She shut off her lamp light snd slipped beneath the sheets. She had an early class tomorrow and needed to ease her mind into slumber.

“Goodnight, Brie. Don’t stay up too late.” Valencia said.

“I’ll try. You know I’m a night owl.” Brielle grumbled.

The rain seemed to flow into the following afternoon. Valencia ran as fast as she could back to her dorm after the boring lecture she had to endure. A fellow student held the door for her and she made it inside although she was drenched from head to toe. She smoothed wet braids from her face and adjusted her cropped T-shirt. The brisk air of the building caused goosebumps to form along her sepia skin. She could even feel her teeth chattering.

Removing her heavy school bag from her shoulder, Valencia took long strides towards the elevators. She waited impatiently while rubbing her wet arms to try and warm up. She silently cursed herself for not bringing her umbrella. The sunny morning and clear sky deceived her. She stared down at her black and white Adidas Campus 00s for two seconds before the elevator doors opened. Valencia took a step forward and just then a deep timbre sent a shiver up her spine.

“Going up?”

Valencia was halfway into the elevator when her chocolate orbs fell upon the one person she wasn’t expecting to see in her dorm building.

Valencia may have met her match with Erik Stevens.

“Yes,” She stepped to the side so that he could enter.

“Thank you.”

Valencia scooted towards the corner of the elevator.

“Which floor?”

“Six.”

“Bet, that’s where I’m going.”

He has a dorm on the sixth floor? She thought.

She focused on him like she was studying a passage out of one of her textbooks. First, her eyes took in the style of his hair. He kept the sides and back tapered but the rest was beautifully loc’d and braided back. His eyes were shielded with gold-rimmed glasses that complimented his face and made him like artsy. She trailed her gaze down his neck to his broad shoulders. He wore a cream-colored hoodie and khaki cargo pants. On his feet were a pair of boots and in his firm grip was a dripping wet umbrella.

“After you.”

Valencia picked herself up and slipped past him since he was holding the door for her. She could smell his cologne and it was her new favorite smell.

“Thank you.” She said.

She instantly felt warm and fuzzy. He had this effect on her she hadn’t felt in a long while truly. Not even for that lackluster lay she had a week ago. Isaiah who?

Valencia walked into a crowded lounge area with a confused look on her face. She spotted Brielle near the window sitting on a lounger. She was chatting with a few of their mutual girl friends. The grey clouds outside began to allow the sun to peek through. She walked over to them and dropped her bag to the floor.

“Cindy, Skai…”

Cindy jutted out her petite hip and smiled with her braces in greeting. Skai raised her hand and fluttered her fingers covered in various gold rings. Skai was playing in Brielle’s ginger-colored coily hair as she typed away on her tablet.

“Why is everybody sitting here in the lounge?” Valencia questioned.

“Rumor has it, Rochelle isn’t our RA anymore.” Skai revealed.

Valencia furrowed her brows and squinted her eyes.

“Really?—”

“CAN I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE!”

The chatter amongst everyone died down to a pregnant pause. Everyone looked towards Erik. Valencia caught his eye briefly and she could feel herself squirming from that small interaction alone.

“My name is Erik. I’m sure some of you have seen your emails, and for those that haven’t, I’m here to fill you in. Rochelle had a personal emergency and she will not continue as your RA for the final months of this semester. I will take over that position from here on out.”

Whispers circulated around the room. Erik stood there with his back straight, arms folded, and poker-faced.

Elusive nature.

Mellow.

“Uh-oh…”

Valencia turned her gaze towards Brielle. Her friend gave her a mischievous smirk. Valencia suppressed a laugh and threw her hands in the air dismissively.

“I will be staying on this floor for the remainder of the semester to keep an eye on things and act as a guide. I know a lot about TSU and I’m more than happy to help. Does anyone have any questions for me?”

Erik scanned the room through his glasses intently, similar to a drill sergeant. For some reason, his presence evoked a feeling of obedience.

A quiet Alpha.

“Well, that’s all I have to say for now,” Erik clapped his hands together in finality, “You can resume studying or whatever it is you were doing. Matt, right?”

Erik pointed to a freshman sitting at a desk. Matt was tall and lanky with designer braids in his hair and dressed like he was ready for a runway. A lot of designer. Definitely attention seeking.

“Yeah. How you know me?”

“I’m a Que Dog. You still interested, right?”

Something in Matt shifted. He stood taller and raised his chin with confidence.

“Absolutely.” Matt replied with excitement.

“Your probationary period starts tonight. You got a lot of work to do.”

Valencia could sense the nervousness in Matt.

“I’m ready.” Matt replied.

“We’ll see.”

Erik walked past Matt and towards the elevators. Valencia watched him leave and when he’d finally gone she let out a shaky breath.

“I don’t think I’m going to enjoy a man being our RA,” Cindy said with obvious disdain.

“Same,” Skai stood up and pulled her tight denim skirt down over her rotund backside and generous thighs.

“Valencia is going to keep me up playing DJ hero every night since her crush is our new RA.”

Valencia glared at Brielle.

“You have a crush on him?!” Cindy questioned with a surprised expression.

“What happened to Isaiah?” Skai asked.

“Isaiah was a disappointment. He talked a big game after that party and when we went back to his room he pretty much did the opposite of what he said he was gonna do.” Valencia recalled with frustration.

“I’M GoNnA MAke YoU CuM,” Brielle mocked.

“I’Mma GiVe YoU THIs DiCk AnD HaVE YOu BeGGiNG FoR MorE.” Valencia said

“oh my fucking GOD,” Cindy giggled, “It was that horrible?”

“Cindy, horrible isn’t even the word. If I could find a word to describe how awful it was I would. Can’t eat pussy for shit, constantly tried to stick it in my ass because he couldn’t find my pussy, has a big dick but can’t fuck, kept asking me if I liked it, it was terrible.”

“I’m so sorry for you, sis,” Skai shook her head, “I really thought he was going to knock the Sonic rings out that coochie.”

“Maybe he was drunk?” Cindy said

“He wasn’t. He had a little bit of weed, that’s it.”

Valencia reached for her bag and stood up to leave.

“Let me go study, I’ll catch up with ya’ll later.”

“Sure you don’t wanna come out with us for drinks tonight?” Brielle asked with a smile.

“I have to train. I have a swim meet coming up.”

“Fine! Maybe Saturday!”

Valencia put a thumb up as she walked away towards her dorm room.

Thirty notes.

Girl if you don’t approach this man!

Who is it? I wanna know 👀

If he hasn’t taken the hint by now he don’t want you.

Valencia’s heart sank to the pit of her stomach. Most of the replies were nothing but discouraging. She wished she could take back her anonymous submission. Sitting at their shared desk in an oversized yellow Nike hoodie and her braided hair in a messy bun, she clicked on a tab on her MacBook to continue reading about Erik’s accomplishments at TSU. He’s an alumni receiving his doctorate in Computer Hardware Engineering. Summa cum laude. Pledge President. Star Football player. Leading place in various academic clubs and competitions. Tutor in multiple complex subjects such as quantum physics, chemistry, mathematics, and philosophy. Fluent in languages such as French, Spanish, Chinese, Latin, and signing.

Overly intellectual.

Valencia could go on and on about how perfect Erik seemed to be. She was infatuated past the point of no return. Far gone. The sexist fucking nerd she’d ever known. But still, it was just a reminder that he wouldn’t be concerned with a twenty-one-year-old chick with no experience and nowhere near as much maturity as him. He probably wanted a sophisticated woman. confident, in charge, and calm. A lot of experience and knowledge about the world and about culture, art, and literature. Someone who can quote Aristotle.

Studious.

Oh? He was in the Military? That explains a lot.

Valencia clicked out of the tab and back to the HBCU Confessions blog. As she scrolled the page, she wondered to herself who could have created it? She’d heard whispers around campus about how the infamous blog became active again after some years.

As she scrolled, an instant message icon popped up. She shifted her hips in her seat and leaned in to click on the message. It was probably some old man asking if she wanted to be their sugar baby or a bot. Valencia’s dark brown eyes scanned the message.

-Hi:)

It was the blog. HBCU Confessions. The owner.

-Hello ❤️

Why would they message her?

-I read your submission. Probably the most innocent out of them all.

Valencia didn’t know how to take that. Was it an issue?

-Unfortunately for you, I don’t have THAT MUCH excitement in my life lol

-Nothing wrong with that. It prompted me to message you personally.

-It was that interesting? Lol

-I’d like to understand and see if I could give you some advice.

-Thank you! I’d actually love some advice. 🥰

-Perfect. What makes it an unrealistic expectation? Because I can tell you now, I doubt it is.

-He’s on a different level than me. He’s also older than me. Idk I just get this vibe that he wouldn’t be interested.

Valencia grabbed her hot pink Stanley cup to take a sip of water.

-How much older? I know you’re 21.

-All I know is that he’s in his 30s.

-I’m still not seeing where it’s unrealistic. Have you tried anything at all? A smile? Anything?

-No. I’ve been too shy to.

-Shy or afraid of rejection?

-BOTH.

-You gotta break out of that.

-Do you know for sure if he’s single?

-I’ve seen him around campus with this professor sometimes for lunch but that’s it. I’m not sure if they are dating or just friends lol

-What school are you attending again?

-Texas Southern

-Really? 👀

-👀👀👀

Valencia made a face at her laptop screen. Did they know something she didn’t?

-Is there something I should know?

-I think I may know who you’re talking about. He’s not available from what I know…

So, this person attended TSU as well? Makes sense now why they singled out her confession.

-Who am I talking about then? 😌

-He’s 33 by the way.

Valencia’s shoulders slumped.

-This still doesn’t confirm that we’re talking about the same person.

-He’s a Nupe, right?

-No. he’s a Que. lol

-You sure? He’s about 6’0, teaches chemistry, spends time with that one English Literature professor…

Valencia considered their description of Erik but she was sure he said that he was a Que Dog earlier. And he’s a TA for quantum physics not chemistry. The only similarity is the English Lit teacher. Professor Boyd.

-I don’t think we’re talking about the same person. Send me a picture.

Valencia waited two minutes before a picture popped up in their chat.

-His name is James Parham.

-He’s cute but that’s not my crush 😂

-Well then I have no idea who you’re talking about lol.

-wait!

Valencia waited. She stood up from her seat at the desk to grab her phone from the charger. Checking her notifications, she received a text from Brielle an hour ago. Valencia opened the text thread and there was a video. She pressed play and it was a lot of motion to keep the phone steady until the video zoomed into a table far off in the corner. Valencia squinted her eyes and recognition washed over her face.

Erik.

He was sitting alone in a booth with a drink in his hand, bobbing his head to the music.

Ping.

-Is it him?

-Yes!

-😌 ohhh so Erik?

-He’s definitely single.

-Make a move before it’s too late.

-what do you suggest I do? Can you give me some advice please?

-Erik is introverted and often mistaken for being timid. He is indeed an Omega and takes pride in that. You can find him around campus reading a book or working out. He’s a homebody for sure. Sometimes you may catch him out and about. He’s a chill dude with this mysterious aura about him. That’s what I’ve gathered from just seeing him around campus.

-I would start off by playing into his interests. He likes to read so find out what books he likes. From what I know he’s big on poetry. He likes to run around campus at 6 am. Need help tutoring? See if he’s offering some study hours for that. Start there and see where it goes.

-This is really good advice! It’s very subtle and a perfect way to get his attention without being too obvious. Thank you! ❤️

-You’re welcome love 💗 I’m here if you need anything. Feel free to chat with me.

Intent listener…

“I really don’t know what to do about it, Erik…”

Andrea, Erik’s friend from college and English Literature professor at TSU walked alongside him in the early afternoon the following day.

“He’s so confusing half the damn time, I can’t even tell if he’s into me or not.”

Erik had both hands in the pockets of his slacks. Today was his day to assistant teach quantum physics. He really wasn’t up for it because he’d been up so late in the dorms trying to settle a sneaky party. Apparently, Rochelle allowed them to party and have drinks which is against the rules and grounds for expulsion. He just walked and listened. Out of his friend group, he’s the one they go to to vent because he doesn’t disrupt them, and he gives great advice.

“How long have we known James, Drea? That nigga can’t express himself for shit. Just know, he’s feelin’ you. He’s always had a thing for you.” Erik replied.

Andrea took a sip of her super green smoothie.

“Well, I’m not gonna wait around for him to speak up. What is he so afraid of?”

Erik turned his gaze onto Andrea through his gold-rimmed glasses.

“We’ve been friends for about ten years, Drea. Maybe he’s afraid that if things don’t work out with you two romantically, it’ll mess up the bond you both had as friends.”

Andrea mulled over Erik’s words. They settled in front of the school fountain and sat down on a bench facing it.

“You have a point. We’re going to a spoken word tonight. We’ll see how it goes.”

“Spoken word, huh? Wow…I haven’t done one of those in forever.” Erik replied with a smirk.

“Coming back to Texas is nostalgic, ain’t it?” Andrea said with a giggle.

“It is—”

“Oh! Guess what?”

Andrea leaned into Erik with a playful look in her eyes. Erik narrowed his eyes at her in response.

“Are you gonna guess?” Andrea pestered.

“Aight, You’re finally gonna write that book you’ve been talking about all these years.”

“No! I changed my mind about the book,” Andrea rolls her eyes, “the blog…”

Erik’s eyebrows shot up.

“Yep. It’s been so long I had to see what was going on with it.”

Erik chuckled, “Nah. You’re back on there? Drea,” Erik shook his head, “You’re a professor now! What if somebody finds out?”

“Who’s gonna find out, Erik? We never revealed ourselves when we used it. Nobody knows what school we went to or who we were. Well…I think I may have slipped up last night…”

“What the hell did you do, Drea?”

Erik surveyed his surroundings to make sure they were safe to talk about this.

“I got the sweetest confession from a student here and I just had to message them.” Andrea said.

“Okay, what did they say?”

“So, they pretty much confessed to having a crush on someone here and being afraid to approach them…”

“Who?” Erik said impatiently.

“You.”

Andrea laughed at Erik’s expression. He furrowed his brows and looked at her like she was talking gibberish.

“…Did they say who they were?” Erik asked.

His interest was peeked.

“No. All I know is she’s twenty-one, very shy, feels as if she has no chance in hell with you.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Erik fussed.

“Because I thought you’d want to know! You need some action in your life, Erik. When was the last time you had sex?”

“Aye, don’t worry about it, girl,” Erik playfully shoved Andrea, “I’m just saying, what am I supposed to do with this information? Like…I don’t even know how the girl looks.”

“You will eventually. I gave her some advice. She may pop up today…”

Erik couldn’t deny that he was intrigued. Could be fun to see how things play out.

“Okay, okay…the log in still the same?”

Andrea smirked, “Still the same. You remember?”

“Yeah…it was my idea, wasn’t it?” Erik smart-mouthed.

“Alright, smart ass.”

Andrea checked the time on her Apple Watch.

“Let me head back to my office. When does your class start?”

“In an hour. I’m gonna head over to the library and do a bit of grading to kill some time.”

Andrea and Erik stood up at the same time. Andrea opened her arms to accept a hug from Erik. She squeezed her old friend and then kissed his cheek.

“Aight, Daka, I’ll catch you later.”

“Have a good class, Drea.”

They parted ways and headed in opposite directions.

Valencia felt cute today.

She did her makeup for once. She dressed in a body con black dress that enhanced her curves. She wore her favorite Carolina Herrera perfume. Anything to get his attention.

On her way to the library after her philosophy class, Valencia entered the library with a grace that turned heads. She took the elevators to the third level of the library, her stomach doing flips because of how nervous she was. She exited onto the third level and walked further into the silent area until she was near the windows that overlooked the campus.

Valencia took a seat and proceeded to retrieve her MacBook, and textbook. She wanted to format her notes with bullet points and colors while the information was still fresh on her mind. It was Friday evening and she didn’t want to spend her weekend catching up on school work. Her cafe noir eyes would look up to see if her crush had shown up yet.

After some time, her attention veered back to the HBCU Confessions blog. She was excited to see that there was a new message from the blog.

-Any luck today?

Valencia typed.

-No 😪

Erik strolled over to a desk diagonal to Valencia. He quickly took his laptop and other work out of his bag. It was the last thing on his mind after what Andrea told him. He opened his laptop and found his way back to Tumblr. Being back sparked memories of mischief and lust. Erik started this blog for laughs and he honestly didn’t expect it to transform into what it is today. What started out as a blog strictly for TSU, expanded to other colleges unexpectedly. So many scandalous things go down at college and it sucked that our people didn’t really have their own way of connecting across HBCUs. So, Erik started the blog for fun, and it quickly evolved.

He’d known secrets about people across colleges. It didn’t matter if you were the dean, a professor, a student, or a coach, your deepest darkest thoughts and feelings were exposed for everyone to see with the option of remaining anonymous. Erik witnessed breakups and hookups. It was a guilty pleasure of his, like watching hentai. Erik had many guilty pleasures. Who didn’t?

He successfully logged back in and found himself staring at hundreds of notifications. The only thing he was concerned with was whoever this anonymous person was that had a crush on him. It’s been a while since he’d been with a woman. Being in the military as an engineer was a busy job. He worked a lot and on top of that he moved around from state to state. Hardly any time to settle down or date. He did date a few women, but it was all a dead end.

Erik found what he was looking for.

ebonygoddess1990s_-No 😪

Erik read the entire thread and couldn’t help but chuckle quietly. He was tickled by Andrea’s advice to his secret admirer. She knew him like she knew her classic literature. He was indeed laidback, quiet, nerdy, and ambitious. The more he read the messages, the more he wanted to find out who this woman was. He decided to respond to their message. Why not? It would be fun to play along. Just like the old days.

-Where are you right now?

Meanwhile, Valencia’s head shot up at her MacBook when she heard the ping of a new message. She read the message.

-Where are you right now?

-Library ☺️

-Usually he’s there around this time.

Valencia looked up and she was staring at him sitting at a table diagonally from her table. He didn’t know that she was eyeing him down since he was focused on his laptop. He wore a pair of slim fit paisley and gray pants with a white button down shirt and brown loafers.

-He’s here now 😳

Erik sat up straighter and his eyes locked with Valencia’s. She quickly averted her gaze to her laptop, tucking her braids behind her left ear. Erik took his time admiring Valencia. His eyes started at her feet. She wore a pair of black gladiator sandals with silver spikes on them. She had red painted toes and smooth, brown legs. His onyx eyes ascended further up her body, over the curve of her hip, the hourglass shape of her waist, her toned arms, ample cleavage, neatly braided hair, and then finally her beautiful face.

He really really liked the shape of her lips. Large and wide set with a plump, pouty appearance and equally full on the top and bottom. He’d seen plenty of beautiful women every day, but whoever this girl was, she was the most beautiful. It was her rich, brown skin. Her pretty doe eyes. That body. Erik was certain that she’s his secret admirer, but he needed to be sure. Excitement brewed in him as he typed a response.

-You should say hi. Get his attention.

-I’m nervous 😭

-Don’t be. Just go for it. How else will you know if he’s interested?

-I dare you to give him a flirty wave with a seductive smile. 😏

Valencia’s eyes went round with surprise. That was bold. Bolder than she initially planned to be. She cleared her throat and turned in her seat. Crossing one leg over the other, Valencia flipped her braids so that it gave her a messy look and then she made her eyes look sleepy and hypnotic like Dorothy Dandridge. She took a deep breath in and focused her gaze on Erik steadily. After five seconds, he looked up and did a double take. Valencia raised a small hand and waved at him slowly while her lips were formed in a smile.

Erik simply smirked at her and raked his eyes up and down her frame. That’s all. He just smirked at her and then he dropped his gaze back to his laptop. Valencia gripped the back of her chair to try and calm her racing heart. That slight interaction had her bewitched. He smirked at her and he checked her out. She wanted to jump up and down.

Ping.

-How did it go?

-He smiled at me and then he looked me up and down. 😭 clearly he likes what he sees!

Erik nibbled on his bottom lip to control the urge to smile with all of his teeth. This was so much fun. The most fun he’d had an a long time. It was good to be back.

Erik packed his things so that he could be on his way to the class he needed to assist. As he was getting ready to leave, he felt his phone vibrating with an incoming call. He plucked his cell from his pocket and brought it to his ear. His eyes connected with Valencia’s briefly before turning away.

“Hello? Hey…I was headed there now—really? You sure? Okay…no, no…it’s all good. Uh…I’ll just finish grading everything and drop it off later? Perfect. Alright…see you next Friday…”

Erik ended the call. Fuck it. He didn’t want to assist that class today anyway now that something and someone had his attention more. He stole a glance at her and she was reading from a philosophy textbook. He knew philosophy well. So well that he tutored for it. Erik had an idea. He took his seat again and brought his laptop back out. He opened it to the messages and began typing away.

-That’s a good thing 😌 What’s he doing now?

-He was going to leave but changed his mind. I wonder why. Hmmm…maybe he can’t get enough of me lol

-maybe 🤔 lol. What are you doing now? Are you studying?

-I am. It’s philosophy. It’s so boring but I have to do it.

-Philosophy, huh? He actually tutors philosophy.

Valencia giggled to herself and shook her head.

-Why am I not surprised. He’s so smart 😍

Erik licked his lips. She was infatuated with his intellect. He liked that.

-You want another dare?

Valencia looked heavenward. Erik peeked over at her.

-Okay. What do you dare?

Valencia’s eyes veered from her laptop to Erik again.

Ping.

-I dare you to ask him to be your tutor.

Valencia exhaled louder than she’d expected to. She brought a hand to her belly to calm the butterflies. That actually wouldn’t be a bad idea. She just needed to calm her nerves. Valencia counted down from ten in her head and stood up from her seat. She paused with her fingertips against her philosophy textbook before lifting it from the table. She pressed it against her, beneath her cleavage, hugging it with both arms like those school girls from teen dramas.

She started making her way towards him slowly. Erik didn’t look away from his laptop until she was standing next to him. Being that close to him, his features more prominent, Valencia couldn’t find the words to speak. Erik looked up at her through his glasses and gave her a friendly smile before recognition washed over his face.

“Hi.” Erik said.

“Hi…”

Valencia shifted her focus on the empty seat at the table. She took a moment to gather herself before scooting out the chair and making herself comfortable.

“Weren’t you in the elevator the other day?” Erik said.

“Yeah…yeah that was me,” Valencia smiles.

Erik nodded his head, “You look different.”

She wasn’t as dolled up and she was soaked from head to toe.

“I didn’t look very flattering,” Valencia released a dry chuckle, growing more bashful the more his eyes were on her.

“No, what I mean is…you’re not all wet.”

Valencia blinked at Erik. Heat crept up her face. The way he said wet…

Erik’s eyes fell to the book that pushed her titties up.

“Philosophy. What’s your major?”

“Psychology.” Valencia replied.

“It doesn’t matter how slowly you go, as long as you don’t stop…”

He sounded those words out so smooth like he was serenading her. Valencia furrowed her brows at Erik’s response. Her full lips parted invitingly.

“…What?” She questions.

“Confucius. Confucianism? the importance of having a good moral character?”

“Oh—oh!”

Valencia sat her textbook down and giggled.

“Right, right…I had a brain fart.”

Erik laughed.

“Uhm…do you tutor?”

Valencia leaned in, unknowingly exposing her cleavage more. Erik fought the urge to look, focusing his penetrating gaze on her face.

He adjusted his glasses very studiously, “I do actually.”

“That’s perfect actually,” Valencia folds her arms against the table, “I could use a tutor. You seem to be well versed in the subject.”

Valencia looked at Erik expectantly with those doe eyes and honestly she could have whatever she wanted if she kept staring at him like that.

“Are you asking me?” Erik quirked a brow.

“…Please?”

Valencia folded her hands and pouted her bottom lip. It was adorable.

“Are you free after five?” Erik inquired.

“I am, actually. Tonight I have plans with friends but I can meet at five.”

“Alright,” Erik shut his laptop, “We can study in the lounge at the dorms. Wait…”

Erik touched Valencia’s arm, stopping her from standing. The hairs on her arm stood up like a jolt of electricity coursed through her.

“I didn’t catch your name…”

“Oh…sorry. Valencia.”

“Nice to formally meet you, Miss Valencia. I’m Erik.”

“I remember.”

They smiled at each other. Erik stood up, placing his laptop in his bag. Valencia took her time retrieving her textbook, unsure of what else to say.

“Well, I guess this is goodbye for now—”

“Valencia?”

Isaiah.

The last person she’d hope to run into. He looked irritated with her as he approached them. Valencia fixed her face into a look of frustration and Erik noticed straight away. The tension between them was palpable.

“What it do, shawty? You avoiding me?”

Valencia looked between Erik and Isaiah. Isaiah loomed closer, draping his arm around her shoulder. Valencia rolled her eyes.

“What can I do for you, Isaiah?” Valencia quipped.

“Did you block me?”

“I did—”

“For what? Didn’t we have a good time?”

Valencia pursed her lips and shut her eyes.

“Isaiah, don’t make me embarrass you…”

Truthfully, she was the one embarrassed at the moment. Erik’s eyebrows ticked up and the corner of his mouth twitched. Isaiah cut his eyes at Erik, sizing him up initially before he recognized him.

“Oh, shit what’s poppin’, Poet?”

Isaiah raised his hand to dab Erik. Erik slowly brought his hand forward and their palms collided with a loud smack and a firm grip. Erik released his hand and watched as Isaiah discreetly flexed his fingers.

“Don’t mind us, just tryna see why my girl mad at me.”

Isaiah clearly couldn’t read the room.

“I’m not your girl, Isaiah.”

Valencia lifted his arm from around her and turned to leave. She threw Erik a furtive glance before retreating quickly.

“Valencia!”

Shhhhhhhhhh!

He was in a library after all.

Isaiah was ready to chase her down but Erik yoked him up by his backpack to stop him.

“Gahdamn, Bro,” Isaiah fixed his bag.

“She’s not interested, One Pump Chump.”

“Fuck you and that nickname. That was one fucking time. I was drunk.”

“Yeahhhh and I’m sure the same happened with Valencia?”

Isaiah glared dangerously at Erik.

“If it didn’t happen that way, it shouldn’t matter, right?”

Erik slapped Isaiah on the back and proceeded to walk away.

“I’ll catch you later, little bruh.”

Erik threw up a hook and twisted his tongue before descending the stairs with a laugh.

#nahimjustfeelingit-writes #killmonger imagine #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger smut #erik killmonger

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vbecker10 · 2 days

Text

Talk to Me (Part 2)

Part 1 / Part 3 (in progress)

Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: (4 months after the first part) You and Loki have grown incredibly close, to the point where you both have feelings for each other but are afraid to admit it. One night, you have a nightmare while staying in Loki's room and he calms you but accidentally shows you his Jotun form in the process, triggering his own insecurities.

Warnings: fire (a small one), panic attack, fear of running a friendship, Loki being insecure about being a frost giant

A/N: Well... here's the second part I didn't plan on making lol @irishhappiness made a comment wondering how Loki would comfort Y/N if she has a nightmare which triggered her powers and then this just sort of happened... also there will now be a third part that I am working on 💚

FyI - I used some of my own experiences with panic attacks for this part, I know they are all different but this is just what they feel like when I have them

It's almost midnight when you finally see Stark Tower and smile knowing you are home, and going to see Loki again. You had both been away on missions for the last week but he texted you that he arrived back hours ago. You text Loki and let him know you'll be landing in a few minutes and Thor nudges your shoulder.

"Texting my brother again?" he asks with a smile.

"Yes," you dramatically hold your phone away from him. "Do you mind?"

He laughs, "Of course not. I'm glad to see you two have grown so close."

When the jet finally lands, you walk down the ramp and see Loki waiting for you near the entrance to the building. Thor waves and Loki rolls his eyes, keeping his hands in his pockets. He is unable to hide his smile when he sees you step out from behind his brother.

"I had a feeling it wasn't me he was waiting for," Thor jokes, looking down at you.

"I'm sure he missed you too," you laugh. Loki, as if to prove he is only there for you, walks past his brother without a word and wraps you in a tight hug. You hug him back, your body relaxing instantly the moment you're in his arms again. "You give the best hugs," you mumble against his chest.

"Does he?" Thor asks and takes a step towards his brother when he finally releases you.

Loki faces Thor and reminds him, "Y/N is still the only person allowed to hug me."

You giggle and hit Loki's arm gently, causing him to look back at you, "Be nice."

"I am being nice," he smirks. "I didn't threaten to stab him if he tries to hug me like last time."

You roll your eyes at him but Thor laughs and pats his younger brother on the back hard before leaving you both for the night. You pick up your bag and walk together towards the Tower, telling Loki the highlights of your time away. When you finish, you ask Loki how his mission was.

"Successful of course," he says proudly then he adds, "I wish we had been assigned together. You are far better company than the Captain and Stark. Plus, then I would not have had to miss you."

You giggle and try to hide the blush that creeps up your cheeks at his words. You would have preferred Loki was your partner on your last mission as well, or all of your missions for that matter.

"You should probably head to bed," Loki suggests when you reach the elevators even though the last thing he wants to do is say goodnight to you already.

"Or we could watch the last episode of that show you insist you hate," you offer hopefully. You didn't want to admit you were exhausted, you just needed to spend a little time with him.

He chuckles, "We could do that."

You sit next to Loki on the couch and try to focus on the show but you're finding it difficult. Not only are you fighting to stay awake but Loki is also sitting closer to you then he ever has before. When you first started this show a few months ago, he would sit at the other end of the couch, placing a collection of snacks between the two of you. Over the course of the series, he had gradually started sitting closer and closer to you. You weren't sure if he was doing it on purpose or not but it wasn't something you were going to complain about. Tonight, there is no space left between you, your shoulders touch and his leg rests against yours comfortably.

All you want is to lean into him and feel his arm around you but you don't move. He really has gotten good at giving hugs and you've decided that means he is also very good at cuddling. It is a theory you want to test but your friendship is too important for you to risk it. He is still in such need of a friend and you have to put that first.

You almost make it to the end of the hour long show, but not quite. Your head nods and comes to rest lightly on Loki's shoulder as you finally lose the battle to stay awake. He looks over and smiles when he feels you shift. He could tell you were too tired to watch the show but there was no chance he was going to turn down spending even a minute with you.

He runs his fingers slowly through your hair and you smile in your sleep. You nuzzle against him and he wishes he could hold you the whole night. He knows he can't though, you are simply friends. He sighs, wondering if this is as close as he will ever get to falling asleep with you and places a soft kiss on the top of your head. His heart skips a beat when you respond by mumbling his name in your sleep. Carefully he gets up from the couch and helps you lay down on the pillow he conjured. He waves his hand again and covers you with the softest blanket he can create.

He stands over you for a moment, taking in how cute and peaceful you look curled up under the blanket. He whispers, "Sleep well, darling," then goes into his room.

Loki lays in his bed but finds himself unable to get close to sleep. He wishes he could pick you up and bring you into his bed so he could keep you close. He has never missed anyone the way he misses you, he has never had a person in his life like you before.

When he was a child, it seemed as if he had dozens of friends but they weren't really his. They were Thor's friends and he simply inserted himself in their games. As he grew older, he found it harder and harder to relate to his peers and they slowly distanced themselves from him.

You are the only person who has ever chosen him over Thor or anyone else for that matter. He knew he was truly your first choice when he was the one you came to two months ago when you became an aunt in the middle of the night. He could barely believe the fact that he was the person you wanted to share one of your happiest moments with. He sat with you for over an hour, looking at the same ten pictures of the little new born but he would have done it all night if it meant he could see you smile and listen to you laugh.

He groans and puts his hand over his eyes, there is no doubt in his mind that he is your closest friend and you are his. He can talk to you about anything but the one thing he cannot bring himself to tell you is that he wants to be more than your friend.

Loki's eyes finally close but only moments later he sits up, his body rigid with fear as you scream. He throws off his blankets and runs into the living area.

"Y/N," he says your name in a panic, his heart pounding in his chest at the sight in front of him. You are sitting up on his couch, looking at the blanket he placed over you which is fully engulfed in flames. You hold your hand shakily over the fire but you can't pull the flames back, you are still too frantic from your nightmare to control your powers.

Loki instantly drops his illusion and waves his hands towards you as he comes to your side. The icy air covers the blanket and quickly smothers the fire. You kick off the charred blanket and pull your legs up to your chest, lowering your head on your knees as you breath heavily.

"Are you okay?" he asks, putting his arm around you as he sits on the singed couch. You shake your head no. "What do you need?" he asks but you don't respond.

You squeeze your hands shut tightly to stop them from trembling and look up towards Loki's voice but you are lightheaded and the quick movement makes you dizzy. You know he asked you something but his voice seems far away as does the rest of the room. You can no longer feel the couch you are sitting on or the floor under your feet, you are vaguely aware that you are disassociating but there is nothing you can do to stop it. Your heart pounds faster in your chest and you fear it may never slow down again.

Loki takes your hand and pulls you up from the couch when you don't answer him. He sits on the floor with his back against the couch and guides you down so you are sitting directly in front of him with your back flush to his chest. He takes your hands in his and let's out a quiet gasp of pain when sparks erupt from your fingers.

"Y/N," he whispers in your ear. You mumble his name in return and he asks, "Can you name five things you can see?"

"What?" you ask, confused by the random question. His cool fingers interlace with yours and small clouds of icy air calm the flames that are rise from your hands.

"Tell me five things you can see," he repeats in a low voice.

You try to focus on answering him. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears as you look around the far off living room. Slowly, you list five objects.

"Good, now can you tell me four things you can touch?" he asks quietly.

Your breathing is still ragged as your chest tightens but you push yourself to think about Loki's second question. You take a breath then look around to find the first three objects. "And I can feel your hands," you give Loki your fourth answer, his fingers squeeze your hand gently. As you say each item, you can almost feel the room shrinking to a less distorted size.

"How about three things you can hear?" he asks.

"My breathing," you turn to rest the side of your head on his chest, "Your heart beat and your voice," the answers come quicker now.

"Two things you can smell?" Loki asks, you finally register how worried his voice sounds.

"My shampoo," you answer, suddenly remembering when Loki told you he loved the way your shampoo smelled. You bought four more bottles of the fruit scented soap that weekend. "And your cologne," you tell him, a smile crosses your lips when you inhale deeply and breath in your favorite smell.

"You're doing so well, I just need you to tell me one thing you can taste now," he says.

"Do the apples on your dining table count?" you ask him as your eyes scan his apartment.

"If you think they do, they count," he responds and you nod that they should count. "How do you feel?" he asks after a moment.

"Better," you realize suddenly. Your heart rate feels normal, even your breathing is steady and easy. You are no longer lightheaded and feel as if everything around you is real and not distorted. You ask, "How did you know how to do that?"

"I read that it was a popular grounding technique," he explains. "I looked into ways to help you after you told me your nightmares sometimes triggered panic attacks."

You smile at the effort he had gone through to make sure he could help you, "Thank you Loki." You feel safe and comfortable pressed against Loki and look down, feeling your hands still in his hands. Loki's skin is a deep shade of blue and it takes you a moment to realize why. You shift to face him, his crimson eyes fixed on yours and he smiles. "Is this your Jotun form?" you ask, touching the ridges on his cheek with your fingertips lightly.

His smile vanishes and he immediately shifts back into his Asgardian form, pulling his fingers free from your other hand. "I'm sorry," he says nervously as he gets up and walks away from you.

He sighs, "I did promise that, didn't I?"

"For what?" you ask getting up but he ignores you. "Wait, Loki," you call as he heads towards his bedroom and pauses under the door frame. You walk towards him and say, "Please don't do that. Don't shut me out." You slip your hand into his and he looks at you. "You promised you would talk to me, remember?"

You nod and try to smile, hoping he will open up to you. You are always worried Loki will retreat behind the walls you've worked so hard to break down.

A small smile tugs at his lips and he says, "I don't know what I did to deserve such a fiercely devoted friend."

You shrug and hold your forced smile as you feel a twinge of pain in your chest when he refers to you simply as his friend.

"We will talk in the morning, I promise," he says as he moves to pull you into a hug. "You need to rest."

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

@soubi001 @mochie85 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @animnerd @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @goblingirlsarah @foxherder @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @kneelingformyloki @jiyascepter @eleniblue @loreniscrying @muddyorbsblr @alyeskathewave @loz-3 @firedrakegirl @javagirl328 @princess-ofthe-pages @morally-grey-variant @soulpiercing @km-ffluv

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moonit3 · 17 hours

Note

Yandere boss x male reader husband, I imagine Leonard would force you to marry him and his sexual advances would be more aggressive on the honeymoon.

You refuse to sleep with him and Leonard decides to remind you of your nuptial duties.

He drugs you and decides to force himself on you

HONEYMOON OF NIGHTMARES

⟡ cw: male yandere, heavy themes!, amab! reader, nsfw, noncon, virginity lose (from reader’s), sub! reader, top! yandere, blowjob (brief), a.nal, s3x, reader is not having a good time, mention of suicide but nothing happens, forced marriage, bondage(?), handcuffs, drugs and unrealistic expectations of it (i never used it, so i am relying heavily on what Ive learned by reading/ other people experiences and also inventing how long does it take to get under the effect of if, don’t do drugs), please don’t read this if you are weak and tell me if i am forgetting something.

⟡ word count: 2.6 k

⟡ yandere! boss x amab! reader

⟡ notes: sooooo, I being another attempt of writing mlm context in the blog for my dear amab!/male readers that probably feel excluded of the yandere community. please keep in mind that today’s work has heavy elements that might be hurtful to some people and can not be tolerated in real life! remember that, guys. I don’t want anyone to come here and tell me that I should die, so if you feel uncomfortable with the topics added in the content warning, don’t read this. Beware of my spelling mistake here.

the old fairytale of of true love never failed to make you smile. it’s magical the old times when grandma would recite stories of her memories about two individuals who despite everything they always ended together, a simple but beautiful tale.

your always dreamed of marrying a prince when growing up and it slightly shocked when grandma heard that for the first time. a man marrying another one? that is new for me, but it is fine. the tailor will sell two suits in one session, so it’s even better for them… now go get me a cigarette before my soup opera starts, kid. her words comforted you when no one knew about your interest in men when you were younger. initially, you believed she would hate you like the rest of the family did when learning about that part of you, but she stayed at your side regardless of what other people said about you. she was your number supporter til her last breath, always saying that you should marry anyone if you truly loved them.

her words were sweet, consistently making you smile when the world was against you. so you can easily imagined grandma would be devastated if she was alive, hearing about your engagement with a man who you don’t love. a man who took everything away from you, the main responsible for taking your freedom away.

it was dreadful that you were coerced into saying yes in front of the people he invited to the wedding, unfamiliar faces as you refused to invite your family (to avoid them seeing you so ridiculously depressed) and forced to place a fake smile on the lips.

leonard made you write wedding vows, which you hadn’t much option than lying about your true feelings towards him.

my love towards him is like a star, burning me inside and always there even though it can’t be seen nor touched.

you hate him, you despise him! the many fantasies you have of killing leonard with your hands are more common than you want to admit. and by marrying him, this dream won’t stop anytime soon.

like a charming prince, he helped me go through many difficult moments in my life and always is around to save me when i am in trouble.

he is the problem. leonard gives you more trouble since you were forced to step down from the company, making you work from the from his own mansion as a way to keep an eye on you.

every time you touch me, i feel butterflies inside my stomach. it’s make me nervous to be able to hug and kiss you as you are real, not an imagination.

you feel nauseous when his hands touched your skin, it’s never fails to make you tremble when leonard just approaches you and spend minutes holding you in his arms. he never took things further, a blessing, but only because he believes it’s wrong to have his way with you prior the honeymoon.

he made the day you always dreamed of a nightmare, one that you won’t wake up anytime soon. the little boy who often daydreamed of marrying a prince who would be your hero, your hero in shining armor never came, instead, leonard stole away from any possibility of you meeting your hero. you are trapped in the deepest part of the dungeon with him being the warden.

after saying yes to the priest, the rest of ceremony was a success for leonard, who couldn’t leave you alone for one second, like someone has glued him to you. it’s irritating that people seen him as a hopeless romantic when holding your hand to cut the cake for the guests, it’s offense when they began thinking you are just shy to show off affection to him when public when you hate his presence in general. when will this party ended? you want nothing more than drown in those expensive drinks to forget about today, perhaps to never wake up and stay forever dreaming that you married the prince not him. but that never happened.

leonard didn’t allow any alcoholic beverages in the wedding nor during the after party and don’t even think there was a single drop of those expensive champagne there, there was nothing to take your mind away from him. you will have to endure him during the first night as a couple, but hey, the luxury room he rent for a week in another country has a great view of the city.

“i can’t— i don’t think i’m going to—“ a loud moan interrupted yours words, making you feel like an idiot to not be able to hold it back. it’s disgusting that leonard is enjoying touching you even you plead him to stop. “please, please, please stop!”

the tears coming out of your eyes aren’t stopping, not when he keeps stroking your cock without pausing. the sounds coming from your lips are beautiful, perfectly matching the lewd sound that your pretty cock is making after an orgasm. it’s adorable how you fail to move away from his hands, trapped by those tightly handcuffs preventing you from escape the headboard, how humiliating is you for not putting more of a fight.

his left hand going up and down at your member, not moving away his glance away from the tears coming out of your pretty eyes, it remind him of those choker pearl he plans to gift you after this special night. and the crimson coming out of your skin from his bites is a great reminder that he needs to get you that long red coat to match his dark suit, it will make both of you look a perfect couple during the next conference.

he can already imagine the many opportunities to show off to the world as his darling husband. would the media be shocked that he is dating a man? probably not, tabloids already had rumors of him dating someone of his gender during his teenager. however, he can already imagine the public’s reactions when hearing that he turned his employer into his husband.

they would see it as a fairy tale coming true. a rich man who has fallen in love with his own worker, the same who came from a struggling background after being kicked out for his sexuality, only to be saved by him. he will gain more popularity and power over the public, making the two of you prominent figures in the public eyes. but before that happens, he needs to make you submit to him.

he takes his hand away from your leaking cock, already proud of himself for making you come a few times to his touch. beautiful to see that you’ve dirty yourself with your own fluids, it would be perfect to just take a photo and frame it at his home office, but he decided to go to a different approach.

“please, stay still. my love.” his hands prevent you from move away, not having option than feeling his tongue licking your own fluids away from your pelvic area. “you taste delicious, [name].”

his eyes stare at you face, seeing how you are holding back your moans to prevent leonard from hear the sweet melody coming out your lips. you would expect him to be angry at your stupid act of rebellion, probably gaining a slap or two from him to make you stop acting like this, but instead he just smiles.

you watch his hands approach your face, holding it like a you are nothing more than a fragile piece of glass that can easily break at any moment. his thumb fondle your lower lips, opening your mouth to force you swallow dry something you don’t know what, yet by feeling the weird sensation around your throat going down your stomach is probably a pill. and by how your mind began distorting the room, you can guess that he drugged you.

the walls began twisting themselves when your eyes try to focus on the many pieces of art placed on them. your breathing gets more intense than before, taking more seconds to force your lungs to take action to keep yourself calm and your body is getting hotter by every second goes by. it’s a struggle to keep calm when realizing that leonard did it to make you weaker to his touch, preventing you from putting a fight. you wish that your mind would stop thinking of what he is going to do next.

knowing that you won’t try again to escape, he spread your legs apart to make him finally see the view he was dreaming of. and by how it looks, leonard knows that you are complete untouched, meaning that he will be your first one.

he grabs a bottle of lubricant at the nightstand and applies it to your entrance, finding it cute that your already began shaking on it own by the coldness of it. gently, leonard puts one finger inside your tiny gap to let him feel your inner walls. a blood-curdling scream of yours took over the room when his finger started moving in and out, making your body mess around the bed as a futile effort to get away.

“h-hah—!“ you have become more sensitive to the drug. feeling leonard’s finger touching your walls and trying to get as deeper as possible is driving your mind insane. “plea— please…stop!”

of course, your pleadings went unheard. instead of having mercy on you, leonard pressed another finger inside your hole and hold your hips to prevent you from squirm your hips away. he is having fun by seeing the pain on your face, you know that, and feeling his fingers’ speed increases is not something you are going to handle well.

you can’t form any coherent words to speak up, the pain coming from your entrance is the only think you can focus on. it’s too much,you have a feeling that you might die during the next part of tonight’s plan if leonard doesn’t get some senses that your body is going to break down if he continues like this.

another load came out of your cock shortly after, resulting in leonard takes his fingers out of your entrance and to make a small distance between you and him. he stares down at you, admiring what you’ve become because of him, a completely mess with full of tears, greenish bruises all over your skin and fluids on your stomach.

“i think you are ready to take me.” leonard said. “you are probably nervous for me being your first, but don’t worry, i will be gently for this one.”

you couldn’t move your body anymore, not with the drugs finally taking control over your entire body, but your teary eyes can catch the glimpse of leonard’s cock. it’s thick and already hard, ready to penetrate you at any moment from now.

“w-wait…” between sobbing, you managed to form a proper word. “i n-not— don’t want t-this.”

leonard ignored your words once again, this time your heart is beating faster than before, fully aware that after tonight, you will be his forever.

he spreads you wider to see that your hole is filled with the lubricant from before and now it’s a little more relaxed, but are you relaxed? your body who seems to be more than ready to take leonard’s full strength, but the tears and pleading of yours are showing that you aren’t ready for it, yet you know leonard isn’t going to care about your words. at least, not tonight.

positioning himself in the middle of your legs, leonard carefully sank his cock into you deeply. a slow process that made you stay still as you feared that moving would only make things worse.

you tried to hold back from drooling as leonard began thrusting in and out of your entrance. quite humiliating that your body is acting this way, so dumb and unable to hold it back. as much you wish to space out of this situation, pretending that you could be somewhere else with someone that isn’t your husband, your mind can only focus on the man above you.

hands on your waist, with zero chance to remove them away from you as he fears you would simply vanish from existence. eyes on your expression, loving how desperate and precious you look with tears and drool over you face. his cock inside you, not daring to stop rocking his hips into you to hear the moans coming from you.

he continues to move inside you, a little bit more fast and harder than before, as he remembers that you are probably sensitive from coming two times. leonard knows that you are getting closer to a third release and that one would send you to sleep, so he needs to take things extra hard to not let you lose the fun part.

“t-too fast!” your hips are going to be bruised by the harsh thrusts and how strongly leonard is handling you. throwing a leg of your above his shoulder isn’t going to end well, you know that. “l-leo—leonard!”

your cock began twitching and leaking cum again over your stomach, dirtying yourself even more as your pleadings continues to be unheard by him. it’s making you dizzy feeling another orgasm coming up and the drugs make the effect worse for your mind, who is begging for this to endure just a little longer to avoid any more punishment from leonard.

it didn’t took much time for the final climax to arrive. your entire body feels so full after leonard came inside your entrance, too much to handle as some of his fluids ooze out of you, slowly ooze from your entrance.

“you did a good job, [name].” his voice. you mind barely registered that he is speaking, the entire rooms only gets more and more entangled when the handcuffs are finally removed. despite not seeing your wrists, you can feel the bruises around it from being tied up so tightly by him during hours and hours.

he lays next to you, bringing you closer to his body to cuddle you. his large arms wrapping around you, an extra layer of prevention to keep you from escaping and to feel your body’s warmth. leonard would never admit out loud, but he loves seeing you like this, so tiredly that he could do anything with you regardless of your approval. but he wouldn’t do this, at least, not in a special night like this one.

“next time, you will ride me. doesn’t that sound good?” he knows you won’t answer him, not when you are struggling to keep your eyes open, yet he still wants to see for how long you keep fighting your body’s desire to fall asleep, so why not playing with it? “or we could go for another round, you know, to build some extra stamina for future times like this. maybe you could just sleep and i keep going.”

between your quietly sobbing, you manage to voice a ‘no’, trying to keep you from getting hurt again by leonard. he could use your body for his pleasure alone another time, but tonight, you can feel all of your muscles and mind worn out by him.

you don’t want more of him, you want to fall asleep and dream about being saved by a knight in a shining armor who will tell you that everything was just a nightmare, that you are going to be alright in someone’s arms. but you know what to expect when waking up tomorrow in the arms of the monster that owns you.

“sleep well, my love.” he planted a kiss right behind your ear. “tomorrow, we will spend more time together as a newly married couple.”

@moonit3 . don’t repost it, don’t modify it, don’t plagiarize, translate it without my permission.

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