#just remember small kindnesses can go so far | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

44st4rs · 3 days

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YOU GOTTA DRESS THE PART!

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ synopsis: Your new boy toy made himself at home with just the clothes on his back. When asked where all his stuff's gone, all Toji can do is point to the same clothes he appeared to you with. If he's gonna play the role, might as well spoil him too!

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ pairings: widow!fem!reader x toji fushiguro

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ cw: 10k + words, pwp, dubcon, talks/mentions of death, use of petnames, use of an oc, vouyerism, exhibitionism, mirror sex, couch sex, oral(m. receiving), cûm eating, reader gets a little shy, fingering, clït slapping, brat tamer!toji, unprotected sex, panty stealing

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ words from chris: part two is here and i don't know how it got...longer! oh well, it's nasty...and that's exactly how i love my fics to be, xoxo!

part 1! • the man for hire m.list

ONE NEW MESSAGE FROM: XXX-XXX-XXXX

PAYMENT: + ¥ 40,000

Forty thousand yen stare Toji back in his awe-struck face. His thumb's back to swiping again, refreshing the screen as if he's expecting the amount to disappear magically.

But they're not, the five bolded digits simply return each time he dismisses them.

So he blinks. His eyebrow arches, his eyes squint, and he blinks at his phone blankly until something like a smile crosses Toji's features. In a single night, Toji finds himself dancing in Lady Luck's palm. He's got a roof over his head, a nice gig, and a pretty lady at his side—and all he really asked for was a few bucks for food.

He wants to mull over the second thoughts that arise—what if it's just a dream? What if it's too good to be true?

But the numbers on his phone don't lie and the wafting heat of the skillet he's working over isn't a dream.

"She didn't even tell me what she wanted..." Toji mutters as he places his phone down on the granite countertop. He teases the browning edges of the omelette with the spatula he kept in hand.

He doesn't usually take people's requests to heart, but for you—something about you makes him hang up his old ways. It's not like you were kind about it, demanding breakfast right before dozing off in his arms.

When he woke up a few hours earlier, Toji faced your sleeping form. He remembers how he captured you under his fawning gaze. He drank in the shallow breaths flooding your lungs, the supple pout pushed out onto your lips, and the way you wore sleep perfectly.

He didn't know how he ended up cradling you in his arms, but for some reason, Toji was willing to ignore the thought in place of the reality before him. You got comfortable with him fast—or just the presence of having someone else in bed with you once again.

That's when he remembers the notion sweeping over to leave your side with a kiss. A tender peck right on the corner of your mouth to let you know someway and somehow that he wasn't going too far.

Even after hours have passed and daylight's entered the room, he still can't put together why he did that—but regret isn't one of those sentiments.

But now he's here, dressed in nothing but the jeans he came to you with cooking you that desired breakfast. Between each flip of the omelette, Toji's eyes scan about your kitchen—gawking at how every countertop is a thick chiseled slab of red granite, gold accents for the handles of all the drawers, cabinets, and the refrigerator.

A vast island stands right underneath yet another chandelier, catching the peeking rays of sun from the windows. Barstools outline the outer wall along the kitchen's rim, making it the perfect penthouse kitchen.

When he first stumbled into your kitchen, he could only stare. And he still is, but the shock ebbs away with each dish he turns his attention to.

He's ending his working shift with the final plate for breakfast, the small salad joining the ranks of miso soup, steamed rice and rolled omlettes. While Toji's hoping you eat it all, he can't help but entertain the thought of how trusting you are of him.

Maybe it's because of his background and the world he hails from, but to ask a stranger to cook breakfast? What if he's malicious enough to poison you and rob you right in front of your dying eyes? Nothing's stopping him either, but he has his reasons. And then again, he's the one who initiated the verbal contract out of thin air.

You two were made for each other.

The soft creaks of bed springs pull Toji out of his mind and his eyes down the hallway again, piquing his attention.

He's graced by the sight of you, clutching that damned robe as you saunter down the hallway. The lazy steps of your stroll lead you beneath the sun's rays, kissing your skin with its gentle glow.

"Good...morning..." he fumbles over, his blown hues fixed on you.

You catch Toji's gawking stare, a grin teetering on your lips.

"G'morning, Toji. Thank you for cooking," you hum, slipping into a barstool across from Toji's workstation.

"You look real pretty this morning, Princess," Toji purrs as a dopey smile grows across his lips.

"You keep calling me that...why?" you quiz, stretching your arms along the smooth countertop.

"Cause...you're basically living in a castle—hm, more like a tower. And it looks like a castle in here. Feel like Princess is the only thing that comes to mind whenever I look at you."

You lean into Toji's ardor, cradling your chin within your soft palm."That would make you my knight in shining armor, no?"

Toji snickers as he looks down, his hand coming to rub the hairs at the back of his neck. "No, I'm just some guy trying to make a living. Thanks for the honor though, I'll do my best."

Your eyes roam over Toji and the display of his bare chest. It's a broad canvas of muscle, stretched beneath skin, scars, and the ripples of veins. Maybe there's another plus in this little arrangement if you get to wake up to this view every morning. You shamelessly let yourself wander over him, tracing each crest of his abs and the faint streak of hair beneath his navel.

Until you find yourself clinging to a familiar sight.

"Toji," you begin, "Isn't it uncomfortable to wear jeans this early?"

"Eh, it's whatever. Don't got nothing else."

"Nothing else? What do you mean?"

Toji leans over the counter, his features softening as he closes the distance between you both. He could laugh at your naïveté, but he knows you understand him—he didn't stutter. But he'll give in just to watch your face fix itself into some new cute expression, shocked by the state you found him in.

"What you met me in is all I got. 'Cept for the extra brush I found in your bathroom. By the way, who keeps sex toys under the sink?"

A look of utter shock breaks across your face—your eyes shot apart and your jaw slack. "No wonder there was a new brush next to mine! You went through my stuff?!"

Again Toji feigns innocence, hands waving defensively. "Calm down! I like to keep clean. I didn't mean to but I didn't wanna wake you up when I have common sense. Took a shower, brushed my teeth, and now here we are."

"Toji...fine. But after we eat, we're going out."

"Where are we going?" He asks, reaching for two plates from the nearest cabinet.

"Ginza, we gotta get you some clothes, some shoes...eh, guess a little bit of everything."

"Ginza? Isn't there some malls 'round here we could go to instead?"

"Course there is, but I'm taking you to a place I know...personally."

"You're really spoiling me now. Turning into a sugar mommy—Oh! Should I just call you—"

"Keep talking and it's coming out of your paycheck."

Toji brings two plates with him as he settles into a stool beside you, placing the fragile dish in front of you. It's a collection of his labors–a small bowl of miso soup, rolled omelet slices, white rice, and a side salad made of tomato and cucumbers.

Toji shoots you one last smirk before turning into his own meal, "Hope you like it."

"Wow," you marvel, grinning at the colorful display, "I haven't eaten like this in a while."

"Huh? You've got all these ingredients and the space to cook. If you don't do that, then what do you eat?"

"Just some fruit, tea, some sandwiches. I rarely cook for myself these days, but it's getting better."

"Hm, is that right?"

Toji places an outstretched digit beneath the contours of your chin, tilting your head towards him. He's giving you a soft stare, his blue hues fanning over your stuffed cheeks.

"Don't worry about it. Way back when, I used to cook a lot, so I remember some recipes. But 'm not doing it alone, deal?"

You nod at Toji as he swipes along the plump curves of your visage, " 'Kay."

For a man you just hired, he's too kind to you. Since last night, he's been nothing but careful with you. He acts as if he's handling something so precious

"Toji, why are you so nice to me?" You ask between a bite of the fluffy steamed rice.

"Dunno," he shrugs, "This is the only way I know how to treat women. My last wives brought this side out of me. And as for you, it just feels natural. Why...want me to be an asshole to you?"

"No...it was just a thought," you mumble softly.

Then again, that's a passive answer Toji put together on the spot. How could he tell you about the sadness that lingers behind your eyes? It's not apparent to most, but there's a dark haze that blends itself into the color of the iris., dimming the soul's light beneath grief. Toji knows those eyes better than anyone else, especially when he himself dons the same look from time to time.

You cover it up behind a snarky attitude, but he knows that's not who you really are. Something tells him you're actually the complete opposite—a free-spirited soul who makes her own rules in life, a woman who leads with passion before anything else. Someone who opens up as they get comfortable, something he's noticing rather quickly.

And a woman just met one of the world's seven wonders too soon. He even said it to himself as he watched you snuggle up against his chest last night; for however long he ended up staying with you, he wanted to get to know you...the real you.

He can't stop thinking about it, how your bodies fell prey to one another within minutes last night. Your body fitting perfectly in his hands, responding to his every beck and call. Even now he's staring at your lips, swearing that just one more kiss could heal him from the inside out.

That's not something he's experienced before, even with his tattered love history. A whim brought him to your doorstep and this whim is what's leading you both down some new path together.

So if he had to wake up to make breakfast, accompany you on some one-sided outings, and give in to your fancies to see the real you, he'd do it all.

With his last bite, Toji places his chopsticks onto his clear plate. He glances over to you, your plate mirroring his own.

"C'mon," he announces as he stands from his seat. " We gotta get going, right?" I'll clean up here, go shower. Oh and Princess?"

"Yeah?"

Toji catches your eye with a stern squint. "Don't. Take. Long. Twenty minutes. Two. Zero."

"Fine," you scoff, standing on the tile floor at last.

Toji watches as you walk off, your hips bearing a salacious sway with each step.

"Fucking minx," he mumbles to himself as he tends to the cleaning.

Twenty minutes later, Toji strolls over to the couch with a much-needed break on his mind. He grabs his shirt from the couch, slipping the gray top over his shoulder and down his chest before settling into the couch's plush chocolate leather. He's back on his phone, scrolling endlessly through his emails and past texts to pass what seems to be an eternity. His eyes fall onto the time displayed on his screen: 11:24.

You're four minutes over the limit. Should he knock on the door? What if he finds you naked? Now that he thinks about it, that wouldn't bother him much, but his point still stands.

"Y/N! It's not twenty minutes anymore! Hurry up pl-"

"...Toji! I'm ready," you call out, breaking him out of his thoughts.

The soft clicks echoing along the floor breaks Toji's train of thought. As he sits up, his eyes fall on you wearing a sage-green silk dress with a pair of strappy white heels. Your handbag matches your shoes, a detail that Toji finds himself appreciating with a mindless grin.

He stands to greet you, sheepishly slipping his hands into his pockets, "Wow, got me feeling a little underdressed now."

You meet Toji's gaze, arching an eyebrow at his words. "Well, don't. If you're gonna be living with me, we've gotta have you dressed the part. But I mean...if you want that. I'm not trying to force you or anything, I just have a feeling that you might want some options."

Toji joins your side, his hand eagerly resting along your lower back. He's wearing a dumb smirk on his face, watching you click the elevator doors open.

"Aww, trying to be considerate, aren't you?"

"Shut up. Let's get going."

Toji follows behind you, stepping into the small chamber. The scene of the living room closes out before him and he's left with you to muse over. You and that pretty outfit that he's obsessing over. His hand has yet to move from you, not that he has the intention to. He doesn't care if it's shameless or outright wrong, Toji just can't help but stare at you. It's barely been a full day and just your beauty has Toji willingly tied around your finger.

You could ask anything of him and he'd be ready to oblige. In truth, he's brimming with half the nerve to tug that dress up your waist and take you on right here and now. But that's too brash and he knows that. Instead, he's hoping you'll leave him something for the chase of imagination.

"Y/N? Look at me for a sec," Toji hums as his fingers tap against the fabric of your dress.

At Toji's demand, your eyes trace up to his own, the azure hues blown wide. The hand he keeps at your back takes on a new path, sinking along the contour of your hip. He's pulling you dangerously close, the fading scent of the cologne on his shirt filling your nose. You aren't even aware of how quickly you give into his advance, your hand sinking into the shielded profile of his chest.

"Give me a kiss."

"...No."

"Why not?"

"Because," you shrug, "I said so."

Toji's pout is a cute one. His bottom lip bears all the jutting weight, his eyes widen with each mindless blink, and the huff that breaks into the air almost makes you want to take back your cold response. It takes all of your strength from laughing at his ebbing resolve, your teeth biting down at the innards of your cheeks.

"Because...you said so?" Toji repeats as he points a finger towards you.

"Yup. 'Cause I said so."

The soft ding of the opening elevator doors pulls you and Toji from the growing heat of the conversation, revealing the building's lobby.

The softly dimmed space draws you and Toji out of the elevator. You've seen it a million times but it's a sight that claims you with ease. The lobby relies on the power of natural lighting, but with its ambient lighting, it's nothing short of welcoming. The polished cream walls wear tile and the green vines of outgrown plants. The only piece of furniture to exist on the waxy hardwood floor is the front desk, occupied by a certain someone.

"Oh, good morning, Y/N! Out for the day?" a voice greets, earning you and Toji to find the source.

The voice stems from the doorman, Daisuke. He's sixty-five, tall with a softened physique of muscle. Only a handful of wrinkles line his fair skin—the typical crow's feet and smile lines. His eyes are of a deep chocolate, but so soft on whoever they land on. His salt and pepper hair stops just shy of his ears, barely hiding his array of piercings.

Daisuke always works the day shift, with his younger counterpart claiming the night. From conversations you've had over the years, Daisuke was a delinquent back in his younger days but mellowed out once he settled down with his current wife.

You and Toji find yourselves journeying toward Daisuke, you both resting along the rim of the shiny wooden surface.

Daisuke sets his attention on you, smiling as he awaits a response.

"Yup! Going down to Ami's for the day!" your words paired with a grin.

"Good, Good...good..." Daisuke trails off. His sights fall over Toji, scanning every bit of Toji's face. Daisuke's sights fall over Toji, his brown hues narrowing down over Toji.

His disapproval is sketched out with a frown, his upper lip arched with disgust. Daisuke isn't one to hide his opinion, especially towards the man trying to court you. He simply stares at Toji until he's ready to speak, his tone honoring his distaste.

"Who might this be, Miss?"

"Oh! Um...this is Toji...he's uh—"

"An old friend," Toji quickly interrupts. "I'm always traveling for work and finally caught a long enough break to visit Y/N."

"E-Exactly! An old friend..." you nervously fumble out, attaching a weary smile to settle your case.

"Mhm...well, I'm not gonna stop you any longer. Have fun you two!" Daisuke sensing your unease. He waves goodbye to you and Toji as you both walk away towards the doors.

Your digits reach for the golden handle of the door, only for Toji to take the lead. With a heavy push, he opens the door for you to pass. But he's waiting for you to get close, so close that he's right behind you, pressing his chest flush against your back.

He leans in, the heat of his breath brushing past the shell of your ear. "Allow me...friend."

You peer back at Toji, rolling your eyes at his comment. "You called yourself my friend, don't get mad at me...friend."

"Fine, what were you going to call me then?"

The question plagues you into a moment of silence, an audible gasp escaping from your lips. All you can do is blink at him, your fluffy lashes batting themselves until you can finally utter something back to Toji's waiting ears.

"You...you talk too much. Let's just get down to Ginza, alright?"

"Yeah, alright," he sighs, walking beside you once more.

But there's some truth between the lines of Toji's sassy remarks.

Despite Toji's hand slipping into your own as you begin your trek, you can't bring yourself to deny him. His presence carries an ease that calms your heart. It's so calming that you can't begin to pinpoint what he is to you. A stranger? To an extent, but in time that title is going to fade away. If he's a friend, then he shouldn't be this kind with you. A lover, no, but the tendencies aren't so far off.

So....who is Toji Fushiguro to you?

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A six-minute train ride and an additional ten-minute walk carry you and Toji face to face with a small building at the end of the block. To the unfamiliar eye, nothing about the store stands out. Not the white brick, not the pink awning, not the vintage door with a grand gold door knob.

And with an unfamiliar eye like the one Toji has, he's scanning over the building. You've brought him to a tailor but that's the opposite of what he needs. He quickly glances over his appearance, there wasn't a hole that he could spot but maybe you have better eyes than he did. He's confused but that doesn't stop him from opening the door for you.

"A tailor? My clothes don't need fixing, Princess," Toji notes as he reaches for the door handle.

"I know, Toji. We're getting you custom-made clothes, silly," you giggle, slipping past the opened door.

The soft scent of clean linen pulls you inside the quaint shop, Toji coming to stand by your side. Your eyes rave about the open floor, not a clothing rack, display table, or mannequin is in sight. Thick palettes of cloth hang from the wall, replacing the initial white-painted walls in splashes of color.

There's cotton, silk, wool, chiffon, and denim just from what you can name. A few doors line the right wall, and the kanji for fitting rooms are inscribed into the wood. Your eyes fall onto another door, placed alone and along the furthest wall of the shop labeled with a name that's too far to read.

Roaming steps lead you deeper inside, the presence of the service desk landing in view. Your curious gaze hinges on the figure of a woman. She's busied herself with something in a notebook, her pen furiously translating her thoughts. Long thick locks of gray shroud her face as she's bent over along the desk's surface, but with the smile stretching across your face, you knew who the woman was all too well.

"Ami!" you squeal, waltzing towards her with open arms.

Ami breaks away from her work to meet you, her cheeks pulled taunt by a full-bodied smile. As she steps away from the counter, you glance over Ami giddily. From the last time you visited her, she hasn't changed.

She dons a veil of gray with grace these days, not a strand of her rich black hair left. She's still wearing that soft expression—her doe eyes wide and brown, her brows eased and plucked thin, her skin fair and gentle, and her lips wear a forever smile.

"Oh, my sweet Y/N!" Ami beams as she pulls you into her arms, the sleeves of her blue sweater pushing along your skin.

"You're glowing, my dear. And you're wearing the dress, it looks so—well, who might this be?" She cuts off, directing her sights to Toji.

You step back from Ami to join Toji's side, giving him a kind yet warning stare. You can't control what he's planning to say, but from what you've gathered so far, he's a blunt man. A blunt man who calls the situation exactly how he sees fit—without shame.

"Hi, I'm Toji," he waves. " Y/N here is my mistr—"

"Friend! He's going to say friend!" You blurt out, welcoming an awkward silence.

You don't have to look at Toji, the heat of a grim squint tells you everything you need to know. You're back to using that damned word, but what else fits? As much as you want to calm him, selling this story to someone as keen as Ami is taking all your focus and energy not to crack beneath the pressure.

Your heart's running on nervous fumes, an echoing pang clogging your ears. All you can do is suffer beneath Ami's careful observation, her big brown doe eyes thinning into a stern squint. She's standing there with her arms folded to her chest, darting her sights from you and Toji.

You're wearing a smile but it's a shaky one, the corners of your mouth quivering with each passing second. You don't know what sort of smile she sees and that's the fact that scares you. You can't tell if she's buying it, but she isn't prying at you for an honest reply.

"Well...it's nice to meet you, Toji! So, what can I do for my favorite customer?"

A sigh of relief pours from your chest, as you lean into Toji's hold, your head resting against his shoulder. His hand quickly laces around your waist, instantly ruining all of your hard work.

So much for being a friend.

"It's him, I wanna get him some custom clothing. Whatever he wants."

"Great! Then I'll leave the hard work to you! Do you mind measuring him?"

"Measure me? Isn't a large enough for me?" Toji asks, turning to you with knitted brows.

"Well, yes a large is enough for you, but it doesn't complement you. Here, I'll show you."

Taking his hand into your own, you lead Toji before a mirror, the glass pane slotted between two fitting room doors. In the reflection, you stand beside Toji, your hand running along the front of his shirt.

"Your proportions aren't something an average man like you has, which means that there's always gonna be spots where there's too much or too little fabric. Like here..."

The tips of your fingers pinch at the hem of Toji's gray thermal, tugging at the loose fabric surrounding his waist. "You've got a small waist but wide shoulders. This shirt looks decent on you, but it's literally just sitting on your body. Let's see if a top made with a bit more for your shape works better."

"Oh, I don't care about that," Toji begins, his stare falling onto you. "As long as I got something on my body. But since you're going out your way for me...I'll try anything once."

You give Toji a faint smirk, his charm's enough to make any woman fall for him.

"Ami," you announced. "We'll be in the fitting room. I'll be done with his measurements in a bit!"

You guide Toji to the lone door at the back of the shop, your hand reaching for the sliver handle–until Toji catches a particular detail.

"Huh...who's name is that on the door?"

"Oh, that's mine. It's a private fitting room made just for my late husband and I," your digits tracing the engraved characters.

"How'd you land that—"

"Oh, Toji!" Ami calls out before you both disappear into the room. "Do you have any fabric preferences? I wanna pick some out while I wait for the measurement."

"Nope, just use your judgment, ma'am," his words inducing a smile along Ami's features.

"Great! There's measuring tape in the room already. So go get measured and I'll pick out some colors and fabric for you!"

You give Ami a nod before sinking past the doorframe with Toji. The door opens up into a dimly lit circular room, welcoming you back with the soft scent of vanilla.

"Just how we left it..."you whisper to yourself, looking around the room.

It's not a huge room, but it's comfortable for two people. Panes of glass line the walls, looping around the curved walls. In the center of the room stands a toffee leather divan bolted to the ground, accompanied by a small glass table with magazines, a candle, and a roll of measuring tape.

"Wow...so this is all yours?" Toji gawks as he strolls around the room. Everywhere he turns, his reflection is everywhere—along with your own. He's stuck on studying your agile steps to the small coffee table, taking the measuring tape in hand. You're twirling it in the palm of your hand as a smile crowds your visage.

"Yeah. Years back, my husband and I were in the neighborhood and came across this place. At the time we needed some clothes for an event coming up and Ami was willing to make them just for us. When we got the order and saw how nicely they fit us, we were sold. My husband and I invested in this place and had it renovated. As a gift, Ami wanted us to build a room just for us and that's exactly what we're standing in."

"So...long ago," you muse. The memory isn't that old but it feels like an eternity has passed since that fateful day. The room that was made as a gift was merely nothing more than a memoir of memories made with you and your late husband.

Until your drifting sights latch on to Toji. He's standing a few feet from you with his hands in his pockets. His head's fallen into a tilt, concern weaving into his features.

"Never mind that, it's in the past now. Ami also works with socialites, doctors, lawyers, governors, anyone really," you brush off swiftly, spinning around to face Toji.

"Mhm..." he mumbles. "So what do you need from me?"

"Could you take your shirt off and stand in front of me? And just relax."

Your instructions are followed down to the letter, Toji presenting himself before you. He tugs his shirt over his head and tosses it onto the divan's cushion. He keeps his arms at his sides, waiting for your next instructions.

"Good...now just let me..." you mutter, pressing the white strip of leather to Toji's skin.

Silence falls over the room, but the tension between you and Toji grows with no bounds. You're gentle when you touch him, placing the marked leather along the curves of Toji's body—his broad shoulders, thick biceps, and sculpted forearms. You save his chest for last, carefully placing the measuring tape along the hull of his rippling pecs.

All Toji can do is watch you hard at work. He's picked up on a quirk of yours, how you bite your lip whenever you're focused. He's touched honestly with how much effort you're putting into him, all this effort put for him.

"I still need an answer, y'know." Your words pulling Toji from his thoughts.

"For?"

You roll the tape back into a small ball, finally setting your attention on Toji. You stare at him with kind eyes, letting your touch explain all he needs to know. The pads of your digits trace the burly hull of his chest, languidly following the rigid print of his faded scars.

"These. How'd you end up with 'em?"

A chuckle rings from his lungs, Toji's chest rippling beneath your wandering touch. He's looking at you, his stare flickering at every inch of your face. Underneath his dim lighting, he's intrigued by the glow behind your eyes. It's a blur of curiosity with the hues of tease. It's a deadly mix—the same deadly mix that rushes through Toji's veins every single day.

"Would you believe me if I said I'm not the best guy? I get into fights for a living and these are simply my reminders of what I do."

"That's fine."

You're...unfazed. He has to blink a few times to register it all—but you simply present him with the same look. He just told you he's no good. Maybe it's too subtle of a warning.

So...He tries again.

"And what if I said my hands are dirty? I'm a selfish man who only lives for himself and the money I make. What would you say about that?"

"That's fine, too."

"God, you're so—"

"Stupid? Crazy?" you interrupt. "If you wanted to hurt me, I gave you all the chances to...and I'm still here. Paint yourself to be the bad guy if you want, try to scare me away...but I don't care. We have a deal remember? And breaking a deal is just bad business."

A smirk cracks along Toji's lips, "Oh, I'm gonna like you."

"Come on, I need to measure you more. Take your pants off too," you huff, stepping back from Toji.

Toji's hand rustles with the metal clasp of his belt, yanking the leather strap loose around his hips, yanking his belt loose. His pants follow the same pattern, the unclasped button granting him the freedom of space. The denim falls from his waist, revealing a black pair of briefs sitting snugly around him.

"I thought you didn't have extra clothes," you ponder aloud as you drop to your knees.

"I always keep an extra pair of underwear."

"Is that right? Well, just stand still and we'll be done soon," your focus already shifting to the small red numbers lacing around his thighs.

And it's a simple task asked of him, but nothing's ever simple with Toji. He's doing his best to behave but innocence isn't and has never been his forte. It's because of you he's struggling beneath a pesky heat that's running amok over his body. He's just too wary of how close you were to him.

He's catching your hot breaths with the front of his briefs, bringing a flurry of twitches to strum through his cock. He has to stand there and ignore how your soft hands travel along his thighs, working so hard to get an accurate number.

Why oh why do you have to look so cute on your knees for him?

Toji's so drawn by his racing imagination, that he nearly misses your question.

"How do you like pants to fit?"

"Oh...some days tight. Some days loose."

"C'mon," you scoff, peering up at Toji. "I need a real answer."

All he can offer you is a coy smile, hiding all his intentions behind the gesture. "Sorry, Princess, I just can't focus right now. Ask me the question again."

"And...what are you doing that you can't focus?" your lips pushing out a pout.

"Don't do that—you know why. I mean, you look so pretty on your knees, doing all this work for me. Can't blame me for these thoughts, they just...come in, y'know?"

You shake your head, "Toji, focus. Let's be pro—"

"Don't shut me down like that. It's always been a fantasy of mine, a quickie in a fitting room."

Toji's hand breaks away from his side to tease you. His thick digits curl beneath your chin, tilting your head to bear the searing heat of his gaze.

"Can't tell me you haven't thought of it too, Princess."

A sigh breaks from your lungs as you drop the roll of measuring tape on the floor. Your hands are eager to be filled, stretched around something thick. It's no wonder that your digits choose Toji's thighs for the job. He fits perfectly in your palm, but he's just so big that your two hands alone can't form a proper grip around him. Your only resort is to tease him, dragging your nails to paint his skin red.

"...And maybe I have. Doesn't mean I should give into it."

Your nails trail up his sides, down the developed curves of his abs, and slowly hang right under his navel. He's playing it off well, but the chills that lick Toji's nerves tell you all you need to know. Antipcipation's making him sensitive from this point on, a ploy that's set to work in your favor. You dress his skin with a single line, the faint flare of crimson mapping your path down to his pelvis.

"Toji?"

"Yeah, Princess?"

"So, it's fine for me to do such a dirty job now?"

Toji's thumb swipes along your bottom lip, "Shhh, just for today, it's okay. I know that greedy mouth wants to taste me."

Toji allows himself to fall into lust by settling into the comfort of the divan, the cushions dipping beneath his weight. He isn't wasting any time to have your pretty lips wrapped around his cock. He already went back on his word—and might as well follow through with his lustful agenda for the moment. He makes quick work of his briefs, tugging the black cotton down his legs. The concealed bulge of his breaks free from its stifling confines, his dribbling cock slapping against his stomach.

All you grant him is a grin of approval as you crawl between his legs, your hands surfacing atop his thighs. But that grin you wear so proudly fades away with the first peck you place along his tanned length. Your lips are met by the quivers of spry veins rising beneath Toji's skin, a testament to the growing pit in his tummy.

Your eyes don't dare to part from his, basking beneath the ravenous glare he's cast upon you. All Toji can do is watch—watch as your playful kisses paint his cock in the pinky hues of your lipgloss.

He's cracking right before you, his lungs barely grasping the thickening air. He's hard, painfully hard at that. All his thoughts rush straight to the crown of his cock, sending an aching headache to rile the swelling tip. He's falling back into the nasty habit of impatience thanks to the mess of pearly tears trailing down his girth, leaving you to catch every drop.

Your lips curve along the juicy tip, suckling at the thick vein that flushes out the underside of his cock. You're so gentle with him that he's flinching, his hips bucking into the air. He's whimpering at your tender display, but that's not all you're pulling from him. Creamy beads drip from Toji's slit, dyeing your skin in his shade of white.

"Mhm, stop teasing me, Princess. Making my cock all pretty with your kisses. Want me you cum just like too, don't—Shit!"

Your puckering pout stretches along the head of Toji's cock, pulling him into your mouth inch by inch. The hot, salty tears of his precum greet you first, the instant reminder flooding your dumbed brain. His essence is something to relish, that deep musk sinking past your senses. Just the taste of him stirs up your mind, prying at some hidden carnal urge.

You're hungry for him, that hidden urge turned into the sin of gluttony. You're hungry for every drop of him, to have his flavor simmer on your tongue for as long as possible.

That newfound urge of yours, your mouth eagerly swallows Toji down to the last inch, your nose cutting into the dark bushel of hairs. But he's so big that you can't keep this up forever. It's a last resort but all you can do is form a loose fist at the base of his cock, softly squeezing at his girth.

"Thaaaat's it, take it all down your throat," Toji cheers, his palm cupping your cheek gently.

It's such a dirty display that Toji can't help but stare—your lips split around his girth. You're leaving him to gawk stupidly at you. There's spit carelessly spilling from the corners of your mouth, whimpers singing from your housed throat and pretty tears staining your skin. You've barely started and you're already driving yourself into a mess on his behalf.

Just his type of woman—so shy, so reserved, but so fucking nasty that not even a picture would be enough proof.

As you find a cadence to strum along to, you suck your cheeks in around Toji. It's a gentle cocoon, wrapping his cock's wrapped in a heaven of velvety bliss. You even enlist your hand to help with your salacious endeavors, the balled fist dragging up and down Toji's sticky length. Now, you're really spoiling him, pitting him to bear the silky fat writhing around his plump cock.

He can't help it, lifting his hips to meet your worked mouth. His hands race to brace the back of your head, his palms smothered over your ears. With the brash snap of his hips, you've driven yourself numb to everything that wasn't Toji.

You've even become numb to your surroundings, nearly dismissing the soft knock on the room's door.

"Y/N! I'm gonna get started on some samples. What are the measurements, darling?"Ami's voice filters through the stained air.

"Better hurry up 'nd tell her. Can't have poor Ami watching her favorite client make a mess of herself," Toji taunts, his hand coming to replace your grip over his cock.

"Oh, yes! His height is 188 cm, waist 72.6 cm, chest 110cm, upper arm 42.5 cm, wrist 19 cm, and collar 38cm! W-We'll come back for the pants another day!"

"Wonderful! I'll get right to work then!" Ami hums. Her shadow beneath the door's crack disappears, taking along that plunging throb in your tummy.

"Toji! That was too—"

The tip of Toji's cock taps at your lips, halting any words to fall from your busy mouth. "Shhhh, I can't wait any more! Finish what you started...or...should I?"

Before you can get a word out, Toji's stuffing his cock back into your mouth, selfishly launching himself back into that drunken bliss with a feverish drive.

With each buck of his hips, Toji's shamelessly engraving himself into you—every vein, every curve, every detail of him engrained to the inner plush of your cheeks. He's addicted to it—to you. Your mouth's just so warm, so soft, so tender. He's losing himself to you without the hope of ever pulling back.

"Oh, that's fuckin—Shiiiit, please....please, y're gonna make me cum!" He chokes out.

Through the budding mist of your lashes, you peer up at Toji, studying his battered form. His teeth are gritted, his fists balled up and with the curse of twitches riddling his cock tells you one thing—he's ready to cum. Toji tosses his head back, the devastation crashing through his body. You're bringing him so close to the edge, but it's teetering on a line he can't cross without you.

"Awww, you like this dick, filling up your pretty little mouth like that?"

A sloppy nod is all you can conjure as the tip of Toji's cock nudges at the back of your throat. His greed's bringing about tears to your eyes, fat tears rolling down your puffy cheeks.

He's chuckling at you for the moment until a crippling heat lays seize to his nursed cock. That pit in his stomach is meeting its limit, forcing Toji to sob out slurred curses of his timely demise.

"Fuck! 'm cumming, 'm cumm-"

Toji drags his twitching cock against your tongue for the last time, pulling away from your gaping mouth. His hand rushes to grip the base of his cock, squeezing every drop of him to rush to the mushroomed head. He smears the tip along your tongue, forcing the slick muscle to dip beneath its weight.

"There's your fucking mess, Princess. Don't waste a drop, 'kay?"

His scent swells within the caverns of your mouth, the thick ropes of white sputtering from the fat juicy crown. A grin spreads itself thin over your lips as Toji ruins your mouth with his scent, drinking down the forbidden fruits of your labor.

"Oh...fuuucck," the words mindlessly falling from Toji's broken lips.

It's such an honor for him, bearing witness to your puffy lips nuzzling along his twitching cock. He's made a real mess of himself but you're here, using that tongue of yours to melt away his sins from white to clear. And you do the job well, all evidence of his high sitting along your tongue.

Such a good girl he's got on his hands.

"C'mere," Toji groans, his hands racing to your own. With his hands for balance, you quickly recover onto your feet. It's a team effort—you pull the dress over your head and he's busy with yanking your panties down your legs.

"Turn around–yup, come sit, I wanna show you something."

He drags you down to his level, seating you on his lap with his hands clipping to your hips. Toji's chest defines the arch that befalls your spine, his skin flush against you.

Toji cups at your jaw, his digits sinking into your cheeks. He's got your full, undivided attention, his hold directing your sights to your reflections.

You're dumbly gawking at the lewd display, your nude form melding into Toji's. You couldn't try to separate where your body begins and where his ends, that's just how close Toji kept you. You look so small in his hold, your hands desperately clinging to his biceps.

His presence is commandeering, even with you as the painting's main subject. Not to mention that just between your legs, his cock's hidden away behind the wall of your smothered thighs, hidden from sight but twitching with anticipation. It's just so...so—

"Spread your legs, Princess. 'M not done with you."

You're hesitant to oblige but your legs still creak apart, all the same, granting for Toji's hand to tend to your cunt.

The thick pads of Toji's digits nestle along the puffy lips of your pussy, spreading the sticky mess apart with a grin.

"Fuck, she's so pretty," he marvels at the reflection. He's lost in the picture your pussy paints in the mirror for him, his digits melding into the precious pink hues hidden between your folds.

It's a sticky mess, but he couldn't care less. He's using such care with you as he traces the fragile curve of your folds, gawking at how your hips buck into his touch.

"Look Princess, god, your pussy's so cute. Wonder what'll happen if I do...this..."

His fingers sink past your folds, the delicate petals glued to his touch. He's rubbing out languid strips to ease those woes of yours, his digit slinking through the sticky channel of essence.

That same finger comes to tease your clit, nudging the glossy pearl spry beneath his touch. And you can't hide it, that sprawling heat growing between your legs. Your clit's overtaken by that heat, the nerves answering Toji's call.

Toji's too gentle for his own good, knowing exactly how to get a rise out of you. And he's winning, thanks to the thickening veil of your honey staining his lithe fingers.

"C'mon look, Princess," he urges, his eyes hinging over the lewd display. "It's too pretty for just me to see."

"N-No, Toji. It's too much!" you squirm, but the hold he has over your jaw doesn't budge not even an inch.

His lips press at the curve of your shoulder, his greedy tongue slipping past to lick a lazy trail along your skin as he takes to the shell of your ear.

"'Nd why's it too much for you, Baby? Too much to see how cute your pussy is? You just gotta, but...I guess I can tell you since you don't wanna see..."

"No, Toji, wait!—"

"Shhh, did you hear that?" His fingers gently drumming at your gasping slit. "Oh, you're so fucking wet."

"Mm, 'm not gonna look Toji."

"Why not?"

"I just don't want to! D-Do I have to look, it's feels so good—"

"You don't wanna look? Ha! that's real cute, Princess. Something a brat like you would...Hm...don't tell me you're a brat, mommy...I like those."

"Mm, No, Toji. I can't—" you sob, screwing your eyes shut.

"So that's how it is?" Toji sneers. His voice carries a cold annoyance with you. You know he's planning something to combat your arrogance, something made just for you.

Toji's fingers fan across the sloppy mess of your folds, his thick digits landing a firm slap over the twitching bud of your clit.

Your breathy gasp falls on his ears, but without a care to be found, he's merely ignoring you. His stare turns cold as he scans your splayed rest against his chest. You aren't even making an attempt to free yourself with a response–just keeping your eyes screwed shut and your head whipped away from the mirror's grand reflection.

"Well...are you?" Toji pries sternly. " 'M not gonna stop til you say something. Not when I'm liking this cute lil' pussy."

And not a lie falls from Toji's barred tongue. The lewd crashes of his slicked fingers against your pitiful cunt rings around the room. He's playing with your clit as if he's forgotten that you could cum at any given moment, forgoing composure for the time being. You're just so wet, dripping with the same essence that drives him near mad. He wants a taste so bad, his mouth watering at how your pussy squelches beneath his touch.

Yet all those wishes and desires bubbling at the forefront of Toji's mind didn't stop his fingers from finding the cute bulb, the weeping throbs melding into the tips of his punishing digits.

Your rambling sobs threaten to drown the sweet symphony, Toji simply grins. Your cries are nothing when his blows can carry just a little more weight. His hand winds back this time, cutting through the air to deliver a stinging jolt to trace through your hips.

"Fuck, Toji, okay, okay!" you whine at last, " 'M not a brat!"

Toji halts his wrist for the moment. Finally, you're giving up, another land of his slaps and he's sure you would've soaked his pants. He moves to soothe your throbbing clit with a rewarding slew of laggardly drawn circles.

"Then, tell me... what are you?"

"A...A...princess."

Toji grins as he presses a kiss along your puckering pout. "Good girl! That attitude isn't for you, too pretty for that. 'Nd I like hearing manners from that mouth of yours."

Toji groans as he pulls you further along his lap. His cock's nuzzled right between the curve of your ass and that spout of friction sends his dormant nerves buzzing yet again.

It doesn't help that he's been catching your slick from his lesson of discipline a thick stream of gloss dripping down his cock. Blood rushes to cram into every inch of his cock. Toji can't even try to hide it, not when his cock's growing so heavy that it's bearing that familiar upright curve again.

"Oh shit...'m getting–"

Your hand reaches down between your legs to lace around his girth, the pads of your digits drifting around the blushing tip.

Your hands are so soft that Toji's flinching, his hips jerking as your fist encircles the mushroomed tip. "Sorry, Dollface. Should've grabbed some condoms before coming here.

"I don't mind if we don't use one."

"A-Are you sure? Really, I can wait for when we–"

Toji's long-winded pleas fall short on your ears, your lithe hands swiftly aligning him with your hole.

"Toji," you coo.

"Yes?"

"Hurry up and fuck me already...please."

A part of Toji wishes you wouldn't use such a word—fucking. He isn't fucking you and hasn't been since last night. Not when he wants to see your cute expression, trying to guess how deep he's ended up. He isn't fucking you when he wants to hold you just like this, keeping your body wrapped up in his arms.

He's too interested in finding ways to ruin you just to be fucking you.

He hasn't found a word to describe what exactly he's doing the moment his cock sinks into you, but it surely isn't anywhere near something as heartless and crude as "fucking".

The head of his cock paints your slit in sloppy kisses before his girth robs you of composure. He's watching the swelled mounds of your folds split at his length, painting the throbbing veins in your essence. You feel so good around him, enveloping his cock in your heat.

But it's something he shouldn't even have the honor of bearing witness to, especially when you're back to hiding in the crook of his neck.

"C'mon, let's watch together," he purrs, cupping your jaw firmly once more within his broad digits. He's directing your sights to the pane of glass before you both, your flaring eyes gawking at the scene.

"We can see everything, baby. Get to finally see how greedy this pussy is too–fuck. Taking every inch of me...just...like...that."

He's back to stretching you again, his pudgy girth bullying your pussy to accept him. But his face tells you a different story, his skin flushed in bliss's shade of rouge. He's squirming beneath you, desperately trying to stop himself from getting ahead. He's filling your ear with rambles, mumbling off some mantra of being patient.

Toji's patience's warranted when he huffs out a groan, tossing his head back when he buries himself to the hilt at last. The hairs decorating the base of his cock brush against you as he grinds his hips against your ass, the bush of onyx tickling the bare skin of your cunt.

"See?" he groans breathlessly, "Did such a good job, Baby! N-Now, lemme...lemme make this pussy all mine."

The languid drop of Toji's hips pulls you from his lips, a weak keen escaping your lips. He buys himself an inch or two before flooding your senses again, the thich crown of his cock pecking at your core.

Toji's noticing how you ease up each time he meets your sweet spot with a kiss.

He brings his hips to an angle when his hips drop this time. He's praying that the thick curve of his underside works in his favor to hit all your sweet spots in a single stride. His hands reach to cup at the back of your knees, pinning your limp body to his own.

"Ohmy–fuuuuck, Toji!"

The crashing barrage of waves his hips carry rip through your pert ass, trailing all the way to the underside of your thighs. Suddenly, he's reaching so much deeper than before, his eyes bearing witness to his cock stretching with ease. His excitement's getting the better of him, coaxing Toji to feed your poor cunt with relentless strides.

"That's it, Princess, take that fucking dick!"

Your lips unwind at his praise, his name rolling off your lolling tongue. In the heat of your bliss, you steal a glance at your silhouettes in the mirror, eyes falling right on the sinful fixture of where you and Toji meld. It's a dizzying sight to swallow, your hazy stare watching your own cunt swallow down Toji for every inch he has. It's so lewd but...so...so mesmerizing!

It's wrong but you can't look away from the swell of your lips splitting around the fat of his cock. It's like he belongs there with the way his hips snap riveting strokes to flush your pussy raw. He's pulling everything out of you, rousing the overwhelming swell of heat to rile your nerves.

He's harboring a resilient drive now, earning the badge of a thick white ring wrapped around the base of his cock. But he isn't working this hard for nothing. He's trying to drown out the facts of just how good you feel around him.

Your fluttering walls coddle his shaft with pecks, the suckling heat gnawing at his ebbing resistance, the way you're peering at him with those eyes—those blown hues begging for just an inch of relief. You've got Toji's body running hot, thriving off nothing but carnal lust.

He knows you're close, but he wants to cum with you even more. He's more than aware of the fact that if he hits your core just one more time, that would be your undoing.

But you just can't cum yet...you can't.

Toji graces your visage with a kiss, pity souring his thoughts. You're ruined by him; tear-stained cheeks, spit-ridden lips, and the dumb rambles falling from your mouth prove his theory to be true.

"You wanna cum, don't you, Princess?"

"Y-Yes...p-please, Toji!" you sniffle, nodding frantically at his inquiry.

"T-Then cum with me!" he sobs, his forehead dipping into the crook of your neck.

Your bodies catch the seizing hold of anticipation, the promise of bliss breaking over you. "Mmm, Tojiiii!" you hysterically bawl.

It's selfish to seek out his aid but the pit in your tummy's too much for you alone to handle this time. It's a sweeping spasm, capturing your body whole. Hot white steaks lick across your skin as you arrive at your high. It takes every ounce of your being to sustain, your back bearing a harsh arch. Just as it came, your high quickly ebbs away from you, rendering you into a panting mess.

Toji does all he can to free himself from your silky walls, his hips dropping from your own. He's pitted his cock to relish the final moments alone before the compelling surge of white explodes from the fat head, your inner thigh lathered rich in his scent.

"Fuckfuckfuck, I c-can't stop—hnn!" Toji blubbers, his stomach caving in against your back. He tosses his head back along the divan's frame, writhing beneath the weight of his high pins upon him.

Your blurry vision falls onto Toji, basking in what his own orgasm had planned for him. He's gritting his teeth. You want to help him, but just as your own, this is something Toji has to bear on his own.

All you have for him is a kiss, your lips simmering at the corner of his mouth. It isn't even a minute before your kind gesture is returned by Toji. It's soft kiss, his lips barely sinking into yours. He lazily pulls away, wearing a weak smile to greet you.

"T-Thank you, Princess."

"C'mon, let's get out of here. I'm sure Ami is waiting out there," Toji croaks, pressing one last peck to your cheek.

You nod weakly, planting yourself on the plush carpet. Toji follows right behind you with his hand too fond of your lower back. He helps you first, slipping the sage dress down your body before tending to himself.

"Oh," he calls out, reaching for your panties. "You don't need this right?"

"And what are you going to do with them?"

Toji stuffs the lacy material into his back pocket, tugging away any evidence of his perverted ways.

"Told you I'm no good. I steal too."

"Go ahead...but it's just because I'm too tired to argue right now," you hint as you wait for him by the door.

You and Toji quickly slip past the private fitting room's door, walking into an empty lobby.

"Huh, guess we beat her—"

"Okay guys! I just finished the samples, sorry to keep you guys waiting. Come back next week and I'll have the full order of tops done. We can get his bottom done as well!" Ami announced.

You and Toji watch the woman with dumb, gaping eyes, right until she stands before you both. You sheepishly accept the bag in her hand, Toji reaching out to take it from you.

Guess luck is still on your side.

"Okay," you mutter slowly. I'm gonna use the bathroom. I'll be right back."

Toji offers you a nod, watching you disappear behind the service desk.

"Wow, it's so good to see her back to her old self," Ami shares, her comment piquing Toji's interest.

"Why? Oh! Because her husband passed right?"

"Yes, she's been so sad for the past four years. So seeing her out and about again brings me such ease."

"Wait, four years? Her husband died three years ago..."

"Yes, that's still right," Ami avows, "But he was diagnosed a year before his death. They tried so many treatments, and hospitals—all that money couldn't get him a reasonable recovery. Then, one day he simply called off all treatment and wanted to spend his final days at home with his wife. So even before his initial death, she was already filled with grief."

"Is that so..." Toji hums, his attention called back as you return to the sales floor.

"Okay, sorry about that. Ready to do Toji?"

"Yeah...thank you again, Ami," he waves at Ami, his quick steps bringing him to join your side.

"Bye Ami! See you next week!" you grin.

With the chime of the door's bell, you and Toji are transported back outside onto the streets of Ginza.

The sun's setting tendrils blaze through the orange sky, hues of purple, rose, and yellow casting themselves across the horizon. The buildings nearby bask beneath the gentle glow of dusk as night teases its way in.

"You wanna get on the train again?" Toji hums as he faces you. He's wearing that dumb look again, gawking at how your afterglow drinks in the day's final rays.

"No, it's nice out. Let's walk back home," you suggest, earning a nod from Toji.

You both begin on your trek home, slipping your hand into his.

He's too busy racking his brain to notice the gesture but he welcomes it all the more. You were vague with the details of your husband's death, but to know how much grief you've endured in recent years pulls at Toji's heartstrings.

He knows he's no replacement—hell, you're the one spoiling him. But he knows he can still give you something of his—his time and effort.

In the long run, his time and effort might not amount to much. But somehow and someway, he's hellbent on making his own mission to cheer you up. And no, you didn't ask for a savior, and he's far from being called on.

But call it compassion from the resident wanderer.

"Hey...Princess?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I call you my lady?"

You stop dead in your tracks, forcing Toji to come to his own stop.

"What?"

"How about I call you...my lady? It doesn't need to have any romance behind it and it kinda sums up what you are to me."

"And what are you to me? Not a friend since you get all pissy."

"I don't get pissy, thank you very much," Toji scoffs. He places himself in front of you, wanting to read your reactions as he urgently tries to explain himself.

"I mean, you hired me to be your boy toy. Now, I have no issue saying that, but I can see where that might not sound too pleasing to others. So...you're my lady...my mistress even. How does that sound?"

"I'll take lady, mistress is no better than boy toy."

"Great!" Toji smiles. You playfully roll your eyes, attempting to step away from Toji—but he isn't done with you yet.

No, how could he be?

His hand's swift to grace the dip of your back, pushing you flush against his chest. A mischievous grin curls onto his lips as he scours that bombshell look on your face. It's been a day and you still aren't used to his brash advances—something you know you'll adjust to in time.

But Toji's playing coy, blowing you a teasing kiss. He just has one more thing to say, and he hopes you're ready to agree.

"Can we kiss on it?"

TAGS: @pixelsanji @sleepy3 @slaughterakira @woahhajime @champagnej @shuxjodie @just-yer-average-key @bontensbabygirl @tojitsukaisen @serenareiss @omniuravity @sweeneyblue1 @yukihime-mikeys-girl @kazusugar @jjjangsta @10-jiku @missyasma @a3trogirl @chaoticevilbakugo @luvrdrop @yourmommy52726 @widepipepaladiknight @tojishugetiddies @nekoriots @ladyackermann @tonaken @holychocopie @dukina @kensgff @humantrashcan2000 @batmanslittlelover @23victoria @sisnot @insideboburnham @shima707 @patchi-chi @brokenheartshards @akiko0-0 @mx-luvzz @whore02 @lilystarknette @hannas16 @girlwith-kalei-do-scope-eyes @your-favorite-god @missakward123 @ssetsuka @alwaysfreakingout @httpstoyosi

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brainrot-of-a-thot · 1 day

Note

Greetings! I am writing to request a lovebite trope but with Suo Hayato. He is my current hyperfixation because he reminds me of Izana from Tokyo Revengers *starts playing washing mashine heart by Mitski*

love bites. [ii]

or, how do they mark you up, featuring: suo hayato, hajime umemiya, hiragi toma

a/n: I decided to combine two requests into this one, as well as rope in hiragi since I’ve gotten quite a few requests to add him! I hope this is alright with you, love — the other request was one for the love bite trope with umemiya and suo, so I figured it was a perfect way to satisfy all reqs <3

c/w: suggestive themes, lovebites/marks, hickeys, headcanon format, language

suo hayato is quite the possessive man, though he’s not as straightforward about it as some men are. his methods of possession are far more subtle; a guiding hand on your lower back when walking beside you, hugging you tightly to ensure his scent embeds itself into your clothes, buying you chic jewelry as a means of not only laying a physical claim but also proving his ability to provide.

but there is one such method of possession that suo can’t help but go overboard with — marking you up during sex. no inch of your skin is spared from his hungry mouth, though he’s very impartial to leaving nasty ones along your inner thighs and neck. he sucks your flesh into his mouth with the sole goal of making you remember them, of ensuring that they don’t fade for weeks.

these particular marks tend to be much more sore than others, even at times affecting the way in which you walk when they’re placed on your thighs. and that’s perfectly fine with suo — he finds it adorable when you try to cover up your winces with a flushed face and cute little scowl.

hiragi toma tends to become passionate and carried away during intimate moments — that’s why you can expect to find hickeys on your skin even if no sex had been involved. it’s not because that he wants to show a claim on you; it’s simply that they serve as a reminder to him of your activities.

when hiragi sees the splotchy purple marks that he left all along your collarbone and neck, it transports him right back to the moment when he put them there. he can smell the phantom traces of your soft perfume, can taste the salty tang of your sweat on his tongue, hear the sweet little mewls you released while he was sucking your flesh, wriggling your soft body against his in such a sensual way that it heats his skin just to think about it.

the only thing hiragi is cautious about is biting you; he doesn’t mind giving you small, brief nips here and there, but he’s more than aware of the kind of damage he can inflict should he accidentally lose it — so he opts for simply sucking your skin to avoid hurting you.

hajime umemiya is an expert at giving hickeys — when his lips are against your skin, you’ll feel like you’re floating. he uses just the right amount of pressure for the marks to spring up nice and dark without inflicting pain in the process. you aren’t even sure how he does it.

umemiya doesn’t typically leave marks where others can see. of course, he’s a fan of the classics, such as leaving a couple of marks along the column of your throat — but when umemiya marks you up, it’s for him and him alone. he wants to be the only one to see them after that.

which is why he tends to litter them across the tops of your breasts and right against your hip bones — of course, sucking marks into the plush flesh of your thighs is amazing too, but there’s just something so stimulating about slipping your shirt off and being met with your tits covered in his marks. it’ll have him melting into putty long before the two of you even go all the way.

I’m v sorry that these are so short — currently trying to wrap up some drafts but I wanted to give y’all more content too

#wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #windbreaker #windbreaker x reader #hajime umemiya x reader #hayato suo x reader #hiragi toma x reader

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yelenasdiary · 2 days

Note

How about the story of Nat realizing she's pregnant and dealing with it all. Then the day to day life of Nat and her babygirl

Wondering

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Daughter! Reader

Summary: With help from her best friend, Clint, Natasha escapes the control of the Red Room and prepares for a whole new life.

Angst, Comfort.

Warnings: Mentions of Red Room, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Talk, Childbirth | 1.7K

Translations: милый (darling), я люблю тебя, солнышко (I love you, sunshine)

AC: I think this is the perfect request for the first fic of the AU! Thank you for sending this x I hope this helps set a little backstory for Nat.

A Widow’s Sunshine Masterlist

Natasha had been nothing but quiet for the last four days since staying with Clint at his farmhouse. It was a big house for a man who lived alone, Clint assumed that his friend was worried that the widows of the Red Room would find her and take her back but the look in Natasha's eyes told him that was far from her worries.

"Alright, tell me what's going on" Clint spoke as he sat down next to Nat on the sofa. His friend looked at him and sighed lightly, "Nat, come on, you can tell me" he added. Natasha knew the time would come and she would have to talk somewhat about her time in the Red Room. She and Clint have been on the run since she met him, although this was not the first time, she was able to escape, this time was the only time they haven't found her and brought her back.

"Remember how I was telling you about the graduation ceremony?" Natasha replied, Clint nodded. "Well, I didn't tell you all the stages before it. Before the graduation and after you've completed the program, you're to hav-" Natasha paused, the trauma of her life catching up to her, although she was still young, in her early 20s, she felt she had already lived a lifetime of trauma. Clint placed his hand on top of hers for comfort, "whatever it is Nat, we'll get through it" he assured her.

"I'm pregnant" the words spewed out. Nat could see the questions flying around Clint's mind and deserved to answer them before he asked. "It's Dreykov's way of getting more widows without getting caught, they inseminate you, you give birth, they take the baby, and you go to what they call recovery which is just them brainwashing you until you have completely forgotten the last 9 months. After that, you go through the graduation ceremony and…well the rest is what you already know" she explained.

Clint took a moment to process the news he was just told, "do you" He paused unsure if his question would offend his best friend, but it was something he needed to know to be able to help, "do you want to keep the baby?" He asked. Natasha nodded as a soft smile tugged at her lips, "I've done enough bad in the world, and I'll be damned if I let them do the same to my baby. I know this isn't what you expected so I don't expect you keep me here, but I do need a little time to work something out" she replied.

"Don't be stupid Nat. You can stay here as long as you and the baby need, you're safe here, I promise" Clint spoke sternly, assuring his words got through to his best friend. Natasha hugged him tightly, thanking him for his understanding and kindness and for a moment any worries she currently had were no more.

----

Pregnancy for Natasha was a whole new chapter that she wasn't prepared for, but she loved every single moment of it. It gave her a sense of normality; she spent her days learning new things that would help her for when her baby would enter the world. Clint helped her along the way, he even began building a small homestead for Natasha to have a little more privacy when her baby was born. It was only a few months into her pregnancy that Clint met Laura.

Each night Natasha would read you stories from a children's book she would buy from the thrift shop, even though you weren't born yet, the little actions she did while pregnant gave her great comfort and made her even more excited to finally hold you in her arms. She would talk to you about anything she was doing, baking cookies for Clint and Laura? She would be talking you through each step and even asking you questions as if you could actually answer her, sometimes you would kick, and she would take that as an answer.

Even through all the happiness, joy and excitement there was still worries and fears growing with each day. She was suspicious as to why she'd gone almost her entire pregnancy without even a sighting or feeling that Dreykov was after her. Clint assured her that his farm was a safe place and even offered for Natasha to join the Avengers after you were born, and she felt ready. It was an idea that she spent time thinking about but at the end of the day all she wanted to do was make sure you were happy, healthy and safe.

"Woah there милый" Natasha chuckled, rubbing her hand over her bump, "this isn't the world cup" she added.

"Kicking a lot today?" Clint asked, taking a sip of his afternoon coffee.

"She hasn't stopped" Nat replied. Clint looked up at her with wide eyes, "she? When did you find out" he asked with a hint of excitement in his voice. Natasha couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips while her hand naturally rubbed her seven-month pregnant stomach, "I didn't need to find out" she replied, "She was always going to be a little girl" she added but she didn't let the faint memory of the Red Room bring out the happiness she had been having with each day you grew.

Clint got up and hugged Natasha and congratulated her, he could see the sparkle in her eyes for the first time ever, he'd never seen her so happy in the few short years that he had known her. "I wanna show you something" he said, taking her by the hand and walking her out to the small homestead that he had just finished and was waiting until the next day to give her the key.

"I was going to wait until tomorrow but given the news, maybe you want to start planning out the nursery" Clint smiled. Tears built up in Nat's eyes, "what do you think baby girl?" Natasha whispered as she looked around the empty room, "you can paint it, do whatever you like with it, this is all yours" Clint said.

"You've done so much for us, I can't thank you enough" Natasha turned on her heels and hugged him, "thank you" she whispered.

Over the last couple months of pregnancy, Natasha was preparing for you to enter this world. She and Clint painted the nursery in a soft pastel green color, she hung a photo from her first ultrasound on the wall above your changing table, baby animal décor stickers were also put on the walls. Clint helped up together all the future and placed it wherever Natasha thought would be best and once the nursery was complete, she couldn't wait to rock you to sleep in her arms in the rocking chair or watch you play with your toys on the purple rug when you would get a little older.

You entered the big wide world at 5:23am on a Thursday morning, healthy and a little smile that made everybody melt. Natasha didn't want to let you go, she could barely take her eyes off you, even when Clint and Laura came to bring the two of you home, she was nervous as anything when Clint held you.

"Do we have a name yet for the little one?" a nurse asked, "we really need to get the birth certificate done today" she added.

Natasha nodded, "Y/n Melina Romanoff" she replied with a soft smile.

"Melina?" Clint questioned, "I'll tell you later, now give me my baby" the red head replied with a soft smile and arms wide open.

"A beautiful name, I'll finalise the certificate" the nurse smiled, writing your name on a piece of paper.

----

Natasha was loving every moment of motherhood, even when she felt like she was going to fall asleep while feeding you and when sometimes she thought it was going to be another sleepless night on the cards but being your mother was the only thing she wanted to do every single day. When you slept, she slept and often Clint would find her asleep in the rocking chair by your crib when he came to check on things. Clint and Laura helped as much as they could, but of course, your mother was head strong and said she was fine with looking after you on her own.

"You look exhausted" Clint said as he placed a small bag of groceries on the counter for Nat. "She just didn't want to sleep last night" she replied, pouring herself a mug of hot coffee and sitting down at the small table in her kitchen. "Why don't Laura and I take her for the night so you can get a decent sleep for once" Clint offered but Natasha shook her head, "it's not that I don't want that, I just hate the idea of not being with her" Nat admitted.

"She'll just be up at house, you need some sleep Nat, you can't keep being supermom on coffee and 3 hours of sleep each day" Clint spoke, worried for his best friend. "Besides, how else am I going to show her how great of an uncle I am if you don't let me do that" he added to lighten the mood. Natasha cocked a brow as she took a sip of her coffee, deep down she knew she had to eventually let her guard down just a little and allow others to help. She just wanted the best for you.

"One night" Natasha replied.

Clint smiled, "you've got it"

As the weeks turned to months, things got easier for the new mother, each day you had her in awe. Nat eventually did allow for Clint and Laura to spend more time with you while she had a little me time and caught up on sleep. She loved taking you for walks around the property in your pusher, she loved bath time and hearing your little giggles and of course capturing your sweet smile whenever she played peek-a-boo.

At night when she would pop her head into your room to check on you, she found herself watching you for minutes on end. Her mind wondering about what life was going to bring for the two of you, what tomorrow would bring. She often wondered what your first words would be, when you would take your first steps and what all your favorite things would be but for now, she wanted nothing more than to just enjoy these early years and learn everything she possibly could about you.

"я люблю тебя, солнышко" your mother whispered as she placed the soft kiss on your forehead.

If you want to be on the taglist for this series, please see the masterlist. It's linked at the top of this post.

#yelenasdiary asks #anon #marvel #fanfiction #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #awidowssunshineau

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vodika-vibes · 1 day

Note

hiiii! i would like to send in a request for your follower event please!!! i was thinking of a monster/ghost au where the reader (i’ll leave gender up to you i’m not picky lol) was a medic for the 501st and was dating echo but died. so the reader is now a ghost haunting echo after he joins the bad batch!! i’m not sure if i want echo (or even the bad batch + omega) to be able to see the reader so i’ll leave that up to you as well if that’s okay? it’ll be like a surprise!! but i do want this to have a happy ending if possible please!!

Oh Traveler Come

Summary: You’ve always been a practical person. Realistic. So when you’re killed in an attack on the Resolute you’re legitimately surprised to find yourself sticking around after death. It’s not the way your world is supposed to work. But, when you find yourself bound to Echo, Echo who you were dating before he died, you start to think that maybe there’s a reason for it.

Pairing: TBB Echo x F!Reader

Word Count: 1542

Warnings: Some angst

Prompt: Ghost/Monster AU

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: I wasn't sure, at first, how I was going to write this one, but I think I kind of like the idea that I came up with. Thanks for your request!

“What a hell hole,” You scrunch up your nose as you trail after Echo into the barracks of his new squad, “Honestly Echo,” You say to your boyfriend, former boyfriend, who you know can’t hear you, “You should bully them into cleaning more. This is a crime against me.”

Echo doesn’t respond. Of course he doesn’t. He can’t see you, though sometimes it feels like he can hear you.

Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking on your part.

You’re a ghost. You died in an attack on the Resolute. Well, to be more precise, you were killed by Ventress. At least, you’re pretty sure that’s what happened.

To be fair to yourself, you don’t actually remember dying.

But you’re a ghost, so you must have died. It’s the only logical conclusion.

For a time, you were attached to Fives, and then he died (and oh, isn’t that just infuriating? You know everything that Fives learned, but you can’t tell anyone-) and then you found yourself hovering over Echo.

You suppose it makes an odd sort of sense. You’ve always been closer to the domino twins than anyone else on the ship…well, outside of Kix. Although, you’re not disappointed that you’re not stuck haunting Kix.

Absently, you roll in the air so that you’re lounging on your back, you tuck your arms under your head and cross your legs. Being a ghost is weird. You can only travel so far away from Echo before you’re snapped back to his side, floating through walls still feels…weird. And you constantly feel like you’re spying on the boys.

Also, you don’t need to sleep anymore.

You shift when you hear a thunk, and you make a face when you see Hunter stripping his armor off. Time to make yourself scarce, just because they don’t know that they’re being haunted doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t allow them some privacy.

Sure, if you’ve seen one naked clone, you’ve seen them all. But still.

The only person you have any interest in seeing naked is Echo…and even then, not when he’s not aware that you’re watching.

You allow yourself to drift through the wall, and then sit up and cross your legs, lazily allowing your gaze to drift over the men walking through the hall.

What a lonely existence you’ve been cursed with.

Your hands find no purchase. Your gestures catch no eyes. And your pleas, whether they be whispered or screamed, reach not a single ear.

What horrific crime must you have committed to be cursed with this? It must have been truly awful-

“Hello?”

There’s no other explanation-

“Helloooo?”

This has to be a punishment-

“How are you floating?”

Wait, what?

Your gaze snaps to right in front of you. There’s a small child, a little blonde girl, standing in front of you, looking up at you through wide brown eyes. “...you can see me?”

“Yes, of course I can.”

“Gods,” You drop from the air until your kneeling in front of her, “How long has it been-”

She reaches out and presses her hands against your cheeks, and you’re surprised that she can touch you, “You’re cold.” The little girl says with a small frown, “Like touching ice.”

“I’m a ghost, little one.” You say through a choked laugh, “I have been for what feels like ages.”

“My name is Omega.” She says with a bright smile, “What’s your name?”

You blink the tears out of your eyes, as you introduce yourself.

“Would you like to come to my room with me? You must be so lonely.”

“I wish I could, but I’m bound to Echo.” You jab your thumb towards the door.

Omega looks from you, to the door, and then back to you. “He can’t see you?”

“Nope.”

“Or hear you?”

“Not at all.”

“That’s so sad!” Omega looks like she’s about to cry for a moment, and you flounder, unsure how to fix this, if this can be fixed. And then a look of determination crosses her face, “I’m going to help.”

“Are you?” You ask, bemused.

Omega steps around you and knocks on the door, loudly.

“They’re not going to believe you, kid.” You note as you take to the air again, folding your legs once more.

“I’ll make them.” Omega replies just before the door opens. Crosshair looks out the door, looking right through you, and then he glances down at Omega.

“...what?”

Omega lifts her chin, “I’m looking for Echo.”

Crosshair raises both of his brows, and then he turns to the side, “Echo, there’s a kid-hey!” He stares at Omega as she pushes into the room, and you, laughing quietly, trail after her.

“Um…which one is Echo?” Omega asks you, seemingly uncaring for the bemused, and bewildered, looks that were being aimed at her.

“The one with the prosthetics.” You say, amused, “They’re going to think you’re crazy, Omega.”

She frowns at you, and then turns to look at Echo, “But I’m not.”

“I know that, you know that. But ghosts aren’t supposed to be real, kid.”

“Then tell me something that will make them believe me.” Omega counters.

“Uh…kid? Who are you talking to?” Hunter asks slowly.

Omega says your name and you watch as Echo jerks, and something pained crosses his face. “She’s dead, you can’t be talking to her.” He says bluntly, and you’d almost believe that he didn’t care based on his tone, but there’s something so heartbroken on his face that your heart lurches painfully.

Omega stares at him for a moment, and then she points at you, “She’s right there. She says that she’s been following you for a while.”

Echo glances at you, or, well, at the spot where Omega says that you are, and the look of pain on his face only becomes more pronounced, “That’s…cruel, kid.”

“No, I-” Omega turns her gaze to you, “Help?”

You hesitate, and then you float over to Echo and lightly reach out, as if to touch him, though you stop before you actually manage it. “Tell him…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to break my promise.”

Omega dutifully gives him your message, and Echo jerks in surprise.

“She’s…actually here?”

“Right in front of you. She’s crying.”

You laugh through your tears, “Don’t tell him that-”

“Sorry.” Omega says sheepishly, “She didn’t want me to tell you that.”

“Why can’t I see her? Or feel her?”

“I don’t think anyone can.” Omega says thoughtfully, “She said that I’m the first person to see her since she died.”

For a moment, Echo looks wrecked. But then, he knows better than anyone how much you hate being alone.

You pull away from Echo, and return to Omega’s side, kneeling so that you’re closer to eye level with her, “Omega. I need you to pass on a message, exactly as I say it. Can you do that?”

She turns to look at you, “I can do that.”

“Good. Good girl.” You breathe out, and then you start speaking.

You tell Echo, though Omega, about Fives. About what he learned, about what got him killed. Omega is shaking by the time you finish talking, horror and fear on her face.

“We need proof,” Echo says quietly, “Cyare, please tell me you have proof.”

Omega, her hands shaking, gives him your answer, “She says that the proof is in your heads.”

“Then we need to do something about this.” Hunter says, “Omega, can you be the go between for us and the ghost doctor?”

“Ghost doctor?” You repeat under your breath.

“You…believe me?” Omega asks, her eyes wide.

“It does explain why Echo always smells a little bit like ozone.” Hunter says with a shrug, “Come on, let’s get to the bottom of this.”

Half an hour later, Echo is hacking into a computer terminal when he stumbles on a file with your name on it. The file is a very detailed description of the attack on the Resolute, the attack that you thought killed you.

Turns out, Ventress didn’t kill you.

She used an ancient force ability to separate your soul from your body. According to the notes, you were meant to be bound to Ventress, as a weapon to be used against the Republic, only instead of being bound to Ventress, you ended up bound to Fives, and then Echo.

Your body is located on a small asteroid in wild space, kept in a deep coma to keep your soul wandering. Tech quickly makes note of the location, and then they go back to work at dealing with the chips.

A single line of code added to the chips software by Tech, as well as a forced update to thc chips, meant that Order 66 could never be activated by anyone. And if someone managed it, the new order was to protect all jedi, rather than kill them.

It would give the Jedi time enough to survive, if nothing else.

Then the Batch flees Kamino, with Omega. Intent on going to claim their doctor’s body, and then head to the Jedi temple in the hopes that they’ll be able to put you back in your body.

You and Echo will get your happy ending, you just have to fight for it.

And, really, isn’t that the case with all happy endings?

#star wars #tbb #star wars au #vodika vibes 650 event #tbb echo x reader #echo x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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smokinsid · 2 days

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Alright, alright, let's talk about SotO. Keep your chin up. This'll be long, but as fair as I can make it. It's not all negative, but it's not all positive either. My hope is to just be real about it. Feedback welcome. Blast me in reblogs if you don't agree, I'm genuinely eager for the conversation.

The kryptis are emotion. It stands to reason that this would be a story focused on emotion. How the commander feels about this or that. How the world reacts when you put your emotions into it. That's pretty cool, and after a decade of more and more personal-feeling dragonslaying, separating us from our friends in order to deep-dive into our Commander's own heart is a really cool move. I have to give credit to what was intended.

There's a sense the entire time of throttled execution that I want to talk about. The story is, at all times, not bold enough to deliver the emotional payload it wants. It's not big enough, bad enough- and it's not a question of stakes, either. I advocated for a lower-stakes jaunt into exciting but less apocalyptic territories at the end of EoD.

Eparch is not a threatening villain. The reveal that he lied about his army and manipulated the stakes was... contrary to what we saw in the map, in one hand- and in the other hand, a deception that undermined him as a threat right before approaching his throne.

I recall when he was first revealed wishing that he was just, physically bigger. Not like Cerus. Like Primordus. I wanted him to be speaking to us from that precipice at the arena and then suddenly loom into view, towering over the columns, taking up the horizon. If he's so full of the strength of others, let him grow huge from it, so I can feel the scope of what he's taken and feel small in his presence. I play Asura- at no point did I feel like I could not beat his skinny ass to a pulp with my own class abilities and absolutely no help.

His timer in the fight still running while he's in his Dipshit Cowardice Bubble did not impress me, and I still beat the clock with like 60% of the limit to spare.

He's weak, he's anonymous- he's revealed only to immediately clam back up in his tower while everyone else continues to just talk about him- and if I'm being perfectly honest, the best parallel for him is our old pal, Zhaitan.

Zhaitan loved to send bits of itself as far as it could reach, while the dragon itself remained in Arah. In some ways I liked that- it was the traditional dragon that hunted goats in the countryside and hoarded treasure, but with a necromancer's minion-mastery twist.

Now imagine falling short of Zhaitan, that much-reviled old lizard, in terms of story delivery. Sure, we fight Eparch toe to toe, but he's weak. If Lonely Tower had released at the beginning of SotO instead of now as a flashback, it might've helped us better understand and respect him as a threat, much like how we had the entire personal story past Claw Island to understand Zhaitan.

But we didn't. So to continue looking at this parallel, we see a relatively short, strained jaunt to Zhaitan, with a couple of hairpin turn deaths to sting us emotionally (they fall flat, alas), and suddenly a Big, Easy Fight against a Guy Who Sucks.

Do you remember the Asura woman in the personal story- if you let her spouse die, she never speaks to you again, even in later expansions? Remember Tybalt, Cieran, and Forgal? That stuff hurts good. This NPC won't talk to you because you let her down and broke her heart. These characters grew to love you in ways that, especially for the time, were uncommon for characters in MMOs. That's the kind of thing that this truncated expac didn't have time for.

And let's reflect on IBS while we're at it. I'm never going to stop laughing at it sharing an acronym with Irritable Bowel Syndrome, but it genuinely felt like the best they could do working in Bellevue, WA, in the midst of serious covid restrictions. They even went back and re-voiced a chapter that it wasn't safe to voice at the time, remember that? It spoke to an interest in doing their damnedest to deliver the best product they could. And it was good! The final fight couldn't be what they wanted it to be, and I'll always laugh at "so, this is Pact justice?" but it was compelling, at least.

We spend a lot of time in SotO standing still. Selecting a dialogue option and listening to NPCs read their lines. Now, I love Peitha and could listen to her talk all day, but so much of what you should know as the player in position of Wayfinder is stowed away in text-only books and collections. Maybe that's a budgetary constraint. Voice acting is expensive. I don't mind reading, personally- but I didn't, because I was already spending so much time standing around!

I'm not one of those people that thinks of my player character as a killing machine or some kind of mercenary being deployed by the higher echelons to do the practical job of killing a way to the boss. Sid is a radio DJ. Enid is a physicist. Rucks is a troubadour. These are conversational, curious characters who are absolutely invested in what's happening in the world around them.

But my tools as a player for engaging with that world are the ten buttons at the bottom of my screen. You have to challenge me to play the game using those buttons, in order to hook me in and invest me. Kick my ass! Make me fight back! That's part of a great story, and I play all three cruise control classes- Necro, Engi, and Warrior. I want you to make me break bars and use my control effects and feel like I'm under threat so that when I win, it feels like winning!

SotO taught my foul little chain-smoking radio gremlin how to dab. It let me unlock a skyscale the easy way. It made me feel gay things for a twelve foot tall woman made of meat and nightmares. For these things I'll always be grateful.

With strictly tertiary stakes- a secret war on the fringes of reality- expressed through random invasions not much different from the random invasions from Joko's boys, a pinched story with lots of standing around, and a truly pitiful, downright un-respectable asswipe of a villain that makes Zhaitan look like a properly-told story, I have to say that SotO only delivered on its emotional payload in the small places.

The relationships between members of the Ward. The way Peitha grows close to you and comes to rely on you so personally. The banter, more than the beats- and that's as much a problem as it is something to be proud of. Some games don't deliver on character personality. In World of Warcraft: Legion, you got Khadgar being smarmy and Illidan being awful and hilarious- but these are integrated into the most important story moments. When Illidan opens the way to Argus right in the middle of the fucking sky, he has the biggest shit-eating grin you've ever seen on his face, because he knows that it's funny. He knows that he just did the craziest shit that Khadgar's ever seen, and Khadgar's been dealing with demons since the Second War!

So why not have that in our cutscenes? Something as simple as coming to the throne room to threaten Eparch, and seeing Peitha curl her hand around your Wayfinder's shoulder. Isgarren is basically our Khadgar, and he's also a big piece of shit, and he gets some good lines reminiscent of "A Wizard appears exactly when he means to," but we can lean more into that- rather than ask everyone around us if Isgarren is coming, why not... have him fail us? Have him tell us that we can call on him, and then we do, and then have him tell us no.

It's not about how these characters harm and help each other, is what I'm driving at. It's how they harm us, on the other side of the computer screen. You, the player, should be provoked into an emotional response because it's motivating! And if you think being motivated isn't a big deal, I want you to consider that the thing that provokes Kryptis portals to higher intensities are items called motivations.

Arenanet has demonstrated a fluency in the language of emotion, and made a valiant attempt at getting inside our player character's heart. But my take is that in doing so, they left the actual player out of the equation.

I can read to my heart's content, and there's good stuff to read. But I can do that without the game, as everything's transcribed on the wiki. If you want me to be part of your world and tug at my heartstrings, you've gotta provoke me.

And if you can't do that with your main villain, you need a new main villain.

#gw2 #guild wars 2 #gw2 soto #gw2 soto spoilers #secrets of the obscure #eparch

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writingroom21 · 4 hours

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The Nanny

Pairing: Rafe x Nanny Reader

Summary: Being Wheezie's nanny was great. The only downside was dealing with the oldest Cameron, Rafe. What happens when his fascination with the nanny becomes a reality?

Warnings: Angst, mention of drugs, sexual harassment (some creep tries to force themselves on reader), forced kiss (same creep with the reader), slight comfort?, (please be careful if you have any issues with sexual harassment it doesn't go far but I don't want anyone uncomfortable), (let me know if I missed anything), fighting

Wc: 7.0K

A/N: One more part to go! Sad to see it coming to an end but thank you for all of your support.

Chapter 8: What are we?

You just watch as Rafe leaves. A sinking feeling builds in your chest. It’s like when you’re on a rollercoaster and you get to the really big drop. You always hated that part of the ride, somehow this feeling tops it. Fighting back the tears you walk to your room. Wheezie can wait until the morning, right now you just need to go to bed. You try to calm your breath the whole walk to your room. Scared if you made too much noise someone will hear.

Entering your room you finally let the tears go, finding solace within the four walls. The tears well onto your lashes, falling down in fat drops. Choked sobs echoing inside the silent room.You furiously try to wipe them away, hating how small you feel at this moment. This isn’t what you wanted. Deep down a part of you wanted him to fight for you. Seeing him give up so easily just adds salt to the gaping wound.

You strip from your clothes, throwing on a pair of sleep shorts and stopping when you reach for a shirt Rafe left. A part of your brain is screaming to find another shirt, the other is dying to have at least one last piece of him. Against your better judgment you grab the shirt and put it on. It faintly smells like him, another reminder how you truly thought he cared. The birthday cologne smelt slightly more bitter than it did before. But it was still him.

You turn to your bed, the sage green sheets lay perfectly flat, a bouquet of flowers on top. Walking closer you notice that they are white roses, your favorite. There’s a little note tied on the string that holds them all together. You pick them, opening the card to read it. I’m sorry Sunny. I fucked up but I can’t lose you. Please let’s just talk it out. I miss you. -R

The note makes you sob harder. He knew your favorite flower and he wanted to work things out. If you had just seen this before interrupting maybe things would be different. Maybe he would be he instead of walking away. Why would he remember your favorite flower? You barely even remember when you mentioned it around him.

“What are you doing?” The voice behind you makes you jump. The rose in your hand flies as you grip the scissors tighter. You turn your head to see Rafe leaning back on the kitchen counter. “Jesus Rafe you can’t do that. You scared the crap out of me.” You lean on the kitchen sink, regulating your heartbeat back to normal. He chuckles a little, a small smile spreading on his lips.

“Sorry didn’t mean to scare ya. Just saw you standing there and was curious.” He eyes your ass getting a perfect view from his spot behind you. “I’m cutting the stems of these roses.” “What Rose wants to be in every part of this house now?” He thinks he’s funny but he’s not. “No smartass. They are my favorite flowers, specifically the white ones.” You got back to cutting the stems, picking up flower to flower.

He sits there and watches and you finish the rest of the flowers. “Kinda seems corny doesn’t it? Like every chick likes roses it's never another flower.” Rafe remarks. Teasing you for the choice. “Well I like them because of my grandma. She used to get fresh bach every week and put them around the house. I get them because they remind me of her.” That’s the most you’ve shared about her since she died.

She was kind of the glue that held the family together. She always knew how to make everyone laugh. Always made you feel safe and welcomed. Your parents weren't that bad when you were growing up at first. They loved you so much as a baby, couldn’t have been prouder. Then the older you got the more money they had to spend. The more time they had to put into you and not them. It seemed the older you got the more problems they had. The more pressure they would put on you to be better.

Your grandma did a great job at shielding it from you for as long as she could. The flowers were the thing the two of you shared. Spending time picking out the right ones just to go home and build a bouquet. It was the highlight of your weeks and after she died it was over. You held on to the last bouquet until all the petals were left to nothing. Rotting on your dresser, burning holes into the wood to leave their marks. No bouquet felt the same after but it brought you comfort.

“Remind you?” Rafe questions. “She died when I was eight. I make bouquets to feel connected to her.” He just looks at you as you fill the vase with water, adding the roses one by one. He remembers watching his mom arrange flowers for the house. She would bring him along as she picked out various flowers. Always asking him for his input because he was her special helper. It was their special day activity, Ward would get upset at the sight of Rafe helping out. His mother would go to his defense, nipping Ward’s words in the butt the moment they exit his mouth.

It hurt to remember his mom, the memory causing more heartache than anything. The image of his happy mom crushed when he realizes she’s gone. Left him behind with a man that hates him. In a town where no one will ever care for him. But then he watches you do a simple action that brings her back. It hurts but he can’t help but smile watching you. “I’m sorry. I bet it was hard losing her. They look good, she’d be proud.”

You look him in the eyes, a soft smile gracing your face. Rafe can’t help but to think how beautiful you look. “Thank you. That was very sweet of you Rafe.” You praise. He blushes, straightening up and walking off. “WHatever don’t tell everyone now.” You laugh at him. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The memory makes the feeling worse. He had remembered that conversation this whole time. It had happened early on to you working here, one of the first few meetings with the oldest sibling. You thought he was just being polite because you were new and you just told him something sad. But he still had that information stored away in some filing cabinet in his mind. The fact he still knew makes you want to find him and forgive him. Then you think about the fact he gave up.

You can’t really fault him, he has a right to do what he wants. Yet it still stings that you weren’t enough for him the first time and you weren’t enough for him this time. You place the flowers on the bedside table. Pulling the covers back you climb into bed, curling up into a ball and going yourself to sleep for the second night in a row.

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The sound of voices stir you slowly awake. “Come on, leave her alone.” A hushed voice breaks through the door. “I want to know what happened last night. She never came to tell me.” Wheezie’s hush whispers fully wake you up. “No, let's go.” Sarah’s voice firmly states, footsteps fading down the hall. The room is bright, the curtains are fully open, you must have forgotten to close them last night. The light is harsh on your eyes, they still sting from crying the night before.

Everything keeps replaying in your mind. Memories creating a slow motion picture just for you. They are on a continuous loop as you get ready for the day. Your mind keeps going back to what Wheezie said to you yesterday. Would you be okay if you saw him with someone else? No you wouldn’t, seeing him with Sofia was hard enough. You don’t think you would be able to handle it further.

That realization brings you back to the flowers and the note. He has kept the memory with him since that day. Rafe wanted to make it up with you and showed you that he does care about you. He used the memory to do something that would make you happy, even if he caused you pain. The note made it obvious he wanted to work things out, maybe you should have listened to him. He didn’t actually have any reason to stay loyal to you, no conversation was had for the next step to happen.

Once you are finally dressed you slip on your shoes determined to find Rafe. You look around the hall when you step out, not wanting to run into anyone and change your mind. You make your way to his door and knock. Butterflies fill your abdomen, the nervous feeling eating you from the inside out. “Rafe?” You call out, keeping your voice low. Your right hand opens the door and you are faced with an empty room. The room is still a mess, things littered everywhere, a perfect match to him.

Sighing you close the door again, heading downstairs to get some breakfast. Voices can be heard from the kitchen, they aren’t loud so it’s hard to make anything out. Entering the kitchen you see Rafe talking with Sarah and Barry just sitting at the island. “He shouldn’t be here Rafe. Dad will flip out.” Sarah argues with her brother. “He already doesn’t like me, why should I care?” He huffs out and turns around, pausing when he sees you at the door. Barry and Sarah to look at what caught his attention.

“Well hello baby. Thought I would never see you again.” Barry’s voice rings in your ears but you can only focus on Rafe. “Hi.” You squeak, your voice giving away how nervous you are to see him. His jaw is clench, his hands forming fists as he looks at the man staring you down. “Let’s go Barry. We got shit to do.” He says pushing the other guy's shoulder as he passes him. Rafe gives you a nod as he walks by you and leaves. Barry tsk’s as he gets up making his way out as well. “That boy never learns does he?”

You just stand there, eyes glancing at Sarah. “I’m sorry I didn’t think you would be up right now after last night.” You smile at her and go in further to make food. “It’s fine. He already said he was going to leave me alone from now on. I just didn’t take him seriously.” Boiling water, you get the oats out of the cabinet, oatmeal was the fastest thing you could think of. “Wait what?” Sarah exclaims. Her shocked face staring at the back of your head.

You know she won’t leave you alone for the rest of the day. You have picked up on a few things over this past year. Never interrupt Ward when he is in meetings or talking in general. Rose really does care but the kids will never respect her so she lets them be. Rafe has been hurt for so long that he refuses to be himself now. Even though Sarah and Wheezie are different people they have the same personality trait. They care so much that they don’t know when to call it quits. Granted Sarah is better at keeping it at bay than Wheeze.

Knowing this and knowing how she feels about her brother you give in. You spilled and told her everything. How Wheezie accidentally was the reason why Ward knows what happened. How Ward was yelling at Rafe and how you stepped in. Then told her about the argument between the two of you. Finally leading to him saying he will leave you alone from now on. The whole conversation lasted all of breakfast, the oatmeal you made for the two of you long gone.

“I can’t believe that he just walked away like that. He was the one to mess up, he can't be mad.” She’s saying things you’ve already said to yourself. He did mess up and he shouldn’t be mad. But another part knows that you hurt him too in some way. You shut him out when he wanted to fix things. You ignored him and refused to talk. In the end you did the same thing he did, you didn’t communicate with him how you felt. “It’s not that simple, Sar. He hurt me yeah but I also shut him out. I’m sure that had to hurt him too, I can’t expect him to wait around for me.” You are trying to be reasonable. This is her brother you are talking about, you don’t want to be the reason why they are not on good terms. Things just started to die down between them.

“But it is simple. He messed up by kissing another girl and all you did was get space from him. He decided to just give up without much of a fight.” Her words force you to think back to when he was crying. Pleading with you to give him a second chance, just to hear him out. “He did try. I just didn’t give him the chance and it’s okay. He’s hurt and he needs his space too. I can’t get upset with him for doing the same.” Deep down you know you have a point. He is hurt and needs time which is what you did. It just hurts that when you figured out how you felt it was too late.

“Why are you defending him so much? I get that you liked him but he hurt you.” You are quiet, looking at your bowl. “Do you still like him?” She asks, watching your reactions. When she doesn’t get an answer she realizes it was deeper than what she thought. “Oh.” You both sit there, the weight of your unspoken words heavy in the air. “We never said we were exclusive. It was never something we talked about so he really didn’t do anything wrong. I just can’t hate him.”

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The thrap of the tennis ball takes you out of your daydream. Wheezie had dragged you out to the country club for a round of tennis, stating it would help you feel better. It was sweet of her for caring but the exercise was not welcomed. You would rather be enjoying the day reading then out on the court hitting a ball back and forth. “How many points is that?” She asks, a smile bright on her face. “6-2 I think.” You respond. You bounce the ball a few times before throwing it up and hitting it to her.

The rest of the morning was uneventful after your talk with Sarah. She tried to talk to you more about how you should be upset but it got nowhere. Once Wheezie popped into the kitchen the conversation died and it was over with. You were relieved when Wheezie didn’t mention Rafe at all after. Even happier when all she wanted to do was go out. That soon faded when she said she wanted to play tennis. It was just an excuse to see the cute tennis instructor that just started there.

Everything was going well until you were both leaving. You were stepping off the court when a golf cart blew past you. “Watch it, asshole.” Wheezie yells causing the cart to stop. The boys inside it all turn around and low and behold there’s Rafe with some guy you’ve never seen. “Watch it, Wheeze. Next time you might get run over.” The boy next to him chuckles. “Yeah, stay out of the way.” Rafe shoots him a look and the boy quiets down. “Oh please like you are so scary. Stop driving like a maniac and be normal.”

Rafe looks at you, eyes lingering for a little longer than needed. You smile at him, opening your mouth to greet him. He turns away before the words could escape. The cart drives off again leaving the two of you alone. He was really taking this leaving you alone seriously. You had hoped that he would be able to talk to you or be civil at least. You miss his voice, his smile, you miss him. Standing there you both just watch them drive off, walking to the building to get changed into clothes.

Wheezie wants to comment on how Rafe didn’t say anything to you. Noticing the look on your face as he ignored you. There’s a nagging in the back of her brain to ask you about last night. Her anxiety is getting the best of her, she’s scared that Rafe hates her. She has seen him get really angry and as much as she isn’t afraid of him, she still doesn’t like it. Wheezie doesn’t want to be the reason why her brother is angry at their father or at you.

“What should we watch tonight? I saw 10 Things I Hate about You the other day while scrolling and I’ve been wanting to watch it. What do you think?” You ask the younger girl as you walk the halls to the changing rooms. Wheezie clams up, her anxiety increases a bit more as she tries to think of an excuse. She needs this to go perfectly, nothing can get messed up. “Can we watch it as soon as we get home? My friends and I are having a Netflix watch party tonight.”

“That’s fine. We can get some dinner and then watch it. How does that sound?” You ask while getting your clothes from the locker you put it in. “That’s perfect.” Wheezie wasn’t lying it was perfect. She needed you to be happy and complacent for the time being. She knows that you might be a little angry with her by tomorrow so she wants to butter you up while she has the chance.

You both got changed and packed up the rest of your things. You are trying hard not to think about Rafe but are failing. Would he still want a second chance if you gave it to him? Yes is the first answer that pops into your brain. Then you think about how he’s ignoring you and that changes. He seems to have no problems pretending you don’t exist, maybe he doesn’t actually want you. Maybe the roses and letter was a ploy to get in your bed again. Yeah that was it.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you have Wheezie order some food. Getting into the car you drive to pick it up before going home. The house is quiet, no one seems to be home besides Sarah. “Hey guys.” Sarah shifts her eyes back to the book in her hands. “Hey! We are going to watch a movie. Want to join?” You ask as you make your way to the living room to settle down. “What movie?” “10 Things I Hate about You.” Wheezie answers. “You had me at Heath Ledger let’s go.” Sarah bolts up, the book forgotten as it flies in the air.

The three of you all get comfortable and queue the movie up. You all just sit in silence, eating and enjoying the movie. Once the food is finished , everyone relaxes back. Only really speaking to comment on the movie. “Uh, I wish he would sing for me.” Sarah dreams out loud. You chuckle at her, nudging her thigh with your foot. “Want me to tell John B to serenade you?” Wheezie laughs at your teasing. “Oh my god. I would pay to see that.”

You honestly can’t help but see the irony of watching this movie. Boy pretends to be into the girl only for her to find out it was all a lie. She tries to hate him but can never seem to, only to find each other in the end. But this isn’t a movie. Clearly Rafe is content with having you out of his life. There won’t be some big confession that absolves him of all his mistakes. He’s too proud to let anyone see how he feels. Maybe this wasn’t the best choice of movie.

Some masochistic part of you wants to feel the pain of watching something that will never happen. To soak in that feeling just to spite yourself. If the girls weren’t here you would probably be crying right now. Mourning the what if’s that plague your mind. It isn’t fair to do this to yourself and you know that. You just can’t seem to help yourself from finding comfort in your own pain. So used to the feeling that anything else seems foreign.

The rest of the movie plays out. Patrick and Kat just made up and are now kissing. Every muscle in your body feels heavy. The weight of the situation pulls you down further into the couch cushions. The credits start to roll and the girls are stretching. “Okay I’m going to my room now.” Wheezie gets up to leave. “Already? It’s still early.” Sarah questions. “Yeah I’m doing a watch party with some friends.” Wheezie shrugs trying to walk fast out the room. Sarah squints her eyes at her younger sister and watches as she leaves.

“Doesn’t she usually stick to you like glue until she goes to bed?” Sarah asks you. She finds it weird that she randomly watches parties with friends. She looks at you when you don’t answer. You were still stuck in your head that it took you a while to process what happened and Sarah’s words. “Um yeah sometimes. It’s good that she’s hanging out with friends. I’m not always going to be her nanny.” That’s when it hit you, this job isn’t forever. There’s no reason for any of them to stay in contact with you after Wheezie gets old enough. The girls would most likely stay in touch you know that. But you won’t be forced around Rafe anymore, maybe that’s a good thing.

“What are you even talking about?” She laughs. “You will always be a part of this family. At least you will be with Wheeze and I. You can’t get rid of us that easily.” She smiles at you. It makes you feel better having that reassurance. Even in the end you will still have them. “I think I’m going to go to my room and read. If you want to hang out or need me just come in.” You tell her. There’s a book on your night stand that you want to finish.

You must have been reading for an hour or two when Sarah bursted into your bedroom. “Is Wheezie in here with you?” She asks. You look up from the book, your face scrunching in confusion. “No, why?” Her face seems worried which only intensifies when she realizes Wheezie isn’t here either. “She’s not in her room and I can’t find her around the house. I wanted my sweater back and she was just gone.” Worry starts to gnaw at you. She has to be here somewhere, she couldn’t have just disappeared.

“Hold on. She has to be here somewhere. I’m just going to call her.” You place your book down and grab your phone. You dial her number and it rings. Sarah just stares waiting to see what happens. She didn’t answer. “Nothing.” You say. Sarah sighs not knowing what to do. “Let me track her phone.” Sarah gives you a bewildered look. “You track us?” She practically yells. “No. Your dad put it on Wheezie’s phone and I just have access to it. I never use it but this is kinda important.”

The app shows Wheezie at a house not too far from Tanny Hill. “She’s at a house. It’s close to here.” You get up putting your shoes on and grabbing your keys. “I think she’s at Trevor’s party. The one she was talking about yesterday.” Crap. Of course, that’s why she had a watch party. She just wanted me to leave her alone so she could sneak off.

The car ride to the party was tense. You were so upset and worried. She went behind your back and put herself at risk to go to this party. No one knew where she was and something could have happened to her. Oh god what if something did happen? She is still young and people like to take advantage of that. This situation is setting panic alarms in your mind. You just hope Ward doesn’t find out because the Rafe situation can be forgiven. Letting his teen daughter go to a party and get drunk might be his last straw.

Loud music is blasting as you pull into the street. There are people everywhere and the feeling of dread increases. It’s going to take forever to find her here. Not only that, you know Rafe is around. There’s no way that he would miss the opportunity to sell and take drugs. Walking into the house was a hassle, people kept blocking the way. Drinks are being spilled on you, soaking your shoes in the process. This is the one thing you hate about parties, they are always a mess. People get too drunk and throw up everywhere. Others start fights or spend the night taking copious amounts of drugs. You don’t judge them, it's just not something you enjoy.

“We should split up. I’ll call you if I find her.” Sarah yells over the music. “Sounds good.” You head towards the stairs to check up stairs. The stairs are littered with cups making the floors sticky. Most of the doors are closed so you have to open each one. You found a couple in one room, the rest being empty or locked. Laughter fills your ears from the other end of the hall. Walking over you see a group of guys all sitting around.

Looking closer you can see that they are doing line and in the middle of all of them was Rafe. Barry was sitting next to him chatting up a customer trying to upsell. A girl enters your view and you watch as she walks over to Rafe. She leans down and whispers in her ear and rests her hand on his shoulder. You watch as he smiles up at her, shaking a little bag in her face. He turns to make a line for her on the table and he catches your eyes.

He freezes, the card in his hand stalling. He picks up his actions when the girl whispers to him again. She makes her way onto his lap and that’s when you look away. Heading back down the stairs, missing how he pushed her off his lap and shot up. How he looked for you but you were already gone.

You keep looking around the house. Stopping into every room to check them. The next thirty minutes were spent searching the house. You kept coming up short which was freaking you out even more. You look at the app again and can see that she is still in the house. She’s here somewhere but you just can’t seem to figure out where. Your phone starts to ring in your pocket. “Hello?” You answer

“I found her. I’m bringing her to the car so we can leave.” Sarah tells you. Relief floods through your system. “Okay I’ll meet the two of you there.” She hangs up. Knowing that Wheezie is safe now you are ready to leave. You walk through the living room, eyes trained on the front door next to the kitchen. A body blocks you as you get right outside the living room. “Hey.” Some random guy says.

“Uh hey?” You say wearily. You are a little weirded out. You have never seen this guy before and he keeps blocking you as you try to get around him. “You’re that nanny for Rafe’s little sister right?” He asks. “Yeah.” He nods at you. His hands are in his pockets, he looks a little awkward like this. He takes a step closer to you, your body backing up closer to the wall. “Sorry for what he did to you. Think he’s kinda stupid for letting a girl like you go.” He says.

As if his words would make you feel better about what happened. “Thanks. I have to go now.” You try to step around him again and his arm lands on the wall, blocking you. This is starting to get more uncomfortable by the minute. “Hey I’m just trying to talk to you. I think you’re really pretty. We can just have some fun.” He tries to ration with you. “I’m good, I really just want to go. I have to get back to Wheezie.” You try to push him off you but he just gets a little closer.

His breath fans against your neck as you squirm away from him. One of his hands grabs your bicep, keeping you still. “Come one don’t be like that. I just want to get to know you. I think we could really like each other.” His body is now pressed up to you. You can feel how hard he is through his pants. It's disgusting. Your hand raises to his chest trying to push him off. It only makes it worse, in lips kissing your neck.

From the kitchen Rafe has been watching the whole interaction. Watching as he hit on you and how you stood there. He watches as his hands are touching you, his lips kissing the same skin his own lips touched. He was angry. Angry at himself for fucking this up, angry at his dad for being the reason he’s like this, mostly mad at you for moving on right in front of him. He was just filled with anger.

It didn’t help that he was so high and coked out that the feeling was ten fold. He had spent all day yesterday and today taking bump after bump. Smoking the day away and drinking. There’s so much in his system that he’s surprised he’s even standing. No matter how much he takes you are always still there. There in his home, at the country club and now here. He can handle seeing you, not really but he could manage. But he can’t stand there and watch as you are with someone else. His breaking point is when the guy kisses you.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing. One moment he was just watching you, hating his life. Now he’s marching over to drag you out of here and yell at you. You can’t just rub it in his face how little he means to you. He was about to call you out when he heard you speak. “Get off of me.” It’s like a switch flipped. He is now paying attention to your body language. Rafe sees her hands trying to push his chest. How the guy keeps grabbing them to bring them down to his pants. “Just shut up and stay still.”

That was Rafe’s breaking point. He grabs the guy from the back of his shirt, throwing him to the ground. You watch in horror as the guy hits the floor in a hard thump. Rafe’s fist meets the guy's face in an instant. You stand there as his body holds the guy down and he keeps hitting him. Everyone is yelling in horror, telling Rafe to stop. “What is wrong with you? She told you to get off her.” Rafe yells.

His voice snaps you out of it. The guy is trying to block Rafe’s hits but he can’t do much in his position. Rafe has him trapped on the floor. “Rafe stop, let him go.” You yell. You really don’t want to be the reason that he got into a fight. It’s bad enough that his dad yelled at him over you.

Topper and Kelce run over, dragging Rafe off of the poor guy. “Fucking touch her again and I swear I’ll kill you. I won’t hesitate if I see you near her again.” Rafe screams as his friends drag him away. You look at the guy on the floor, he just lays there as people try to check on him. “God he’s such a psycho. Who just attacks a random guy.” Someone says as they pull out their phone to call the cops. “Maybe he shouldn’t be such a creep forcing himself onto people.” You say without thinking. Heads turn to look at you in confusion. Some people connect the dots as to what happened. “DId he try to..” You walk away before people can ask questions.

You find Rafe outside, pacing in circles as he yells at his friends. “Why would you pull me off? FUcking asshole deserved it. He’s lucking I didn’t fucking kill him.” The boys just look at him with worried looks. “You can’t just say you are going to kill people Rafe.” Topper tries to reason but it falls on deaf ears. “Nah I mean it. He was going to hurt her and I wanted to kill him. I would do it to anyone who even thinks about touching her.” The boys don’t know what to say. Rafe is like a ticking bomb when he’s like this.

“Rafe.” Your voice calms him, he turns to you. “Are you okay?” He rushes to you. Examining you to make sure that creep didn’t harm you in any way. “I’m fine. Thank you.” You don’t know what else to say. He helped you out back there and you are grateful. “I swear if he hurt you I’m going back in there and killing him. DOn’t care if they arrest me.” He’s being irrational. “Hey, just calm down. Everything is fine now. You made it okay.” He pauses, your words sinking in. He made it okay.

He was the one who helped you, the one that saved you. He reaches out to you, caressing your check. Relishing the feeling of you leaning into his touch. “You should go home.” He whispers. Your eyes open and meet his. Their red and his pupils are dilated. “Come with me.” He looks at you, debating if it’s a good idea. “I can’t. I said I would leave you alone, so I can’t.” He takes his hand off your face, about to back away from you but you stopped him.

“I want you to come with me, please. You can’t drive like this.” He gave in, no fighting was needed. You want him and that’s all he needs to know. He steps closer, walking side by side to your car. He sees Wheezie and Sarah in it. “What are they doing here?” He asks you. “Wheeze snuck off to the party. We came to get her and when I was leaving well.” You look back at the house and at him. “Well you know.”

He nods at you, not saying another word as you get into the car and drive off. The car ride was filled with you and Sarah lecturing Wheezie on how dangerous this was. That if something happened to her and no one knew where she was it could end badly. Rafe tenses at this thought. He was so coked out he didn’t realize his own sister was at the party. You were right she could have been hurt. Look at what happened to you, the same could have happened to Wheezie.

He’s on autopilot as he walks into the house and up the stairs. Your conversation plays in the background in his mind. He enters his room shutting the door but not noticing how it doesn’t click shut until a moment later. “Are you okay?” Rafe turns to see you in front of the door. “Yeah, I just want to get to bed.” What he really wants is to take another line and sleep the thoughts away.

“I just wanted to say thank you again for helping me today.” You shift your eyes from him. “No problem. Didn’t want you to get hurt.” He sits on the edge of his bed, folding his hands and looking at them. “That’s all? I got the flowers you gave me.” you take a step closer, wanting to be near him. You want to fix this, tonight made you realize he does care.

“Oh yeah. You can just forget about them. Don’t know why I even got them in the first place.” Your smile fades, the small flame of hope flickers out. “So that note was for nothing?” He doesn’t say anything. Guess you finally got your answer, it's over. “Don’t know why I even tried talking to you. You don’t care.” You go to leave the room. “Don’t leave.” He calls out.

Your hand is still on the door knob, one twist and you’ll be free. “Why? There’s nothing to stay for.” You hear him grunt, the bed squeaking under him. “Do you think I want to be like this? I can’t stand myself. I’m a fuck up, everyone knows it. For fucks sake my own father hates me.” He gets up, adrenaline coursing through him.

“I wish I could be normal. That I was enough of a man to be worthy of anything. I’m just a failure at everything so no point in pulling you down with me.” His eyes are collecting tears. His breath came in short bursts. “That’s the drugs talking. You are normal Rafe.” He scoffs at you. “No, the drugs just make it easier to swallow that pill.” He laughs out.

“I know what everyone says about me, I’m not stupid. Ever since my mom died I was some monster. No one wanted to be around me and I just kept acting up. I know I’m not worth anything, then there you were. My own personal sunshine. For a second I was able to forget who I was. I was someone else and didn't have to worry about the rumors that go around. Guess I forgot I don’t deserve good things.”

He’s laughing but you can hear the hurt in his voice. Tears fill your eyes at the thought of him feeling so worthless. “You do deserve good things.” “Look at what that got us. I fucked it up and you don’t even want me around. I get it, don't get me wrong but it sucks. I didn’t think you meant anything, the little voice in my head saying I was a fool for wanting to be with you. I let it get to me and now whatever we were is gone.”

A tear falls down his cheek. “I lost the last good thing that ever happened to me. You know you’re the only person that cared about me. It’s funny not even my own family likes me but you did. You were a breath of fresh air, the sunny day after a storm. I finally had you and I couldn’t even keep that. So no, I don't deserve good things.” His voice raises. A hollow feeling in his chest, he wishes it was a blackhole ready to swallow him up.

“Is that why you call me Sunny?” The nickname starts to make sense to you now. “Yeah, you’re this bright light that took everything away.” He sits down on the bed again, looking at the sun necklace laying on his table. He picks it up, playing with the gem between his fingers. “My Sunny. So beautiful it hurts. I’m sorry I’m such a fuck up. Wish I was different, maybe then we would actually be together.”

Your breath hitches, was this just the drugs? He did say that it just made it easier to handle how he feels. “I don’t want you to be different.” You stroll over to him, stepping between his legs. You grab his head in your hands so he can look you in the face. “I just wanted you to be you. I like who Rafe Cameron is. Why would I want you to be anyone different?” His eyes are shiny, glossed over with the tears that keep falling.

“It doesn’t matter now right? It’s too late.” His hand wraps around your wrist. “We can talk about this tomorrow. You should get some sleep, we’ll talk when you have a clearer mind.” You go to leave the room but he stops you. “Stay. Don’t leave me.” His eyes are pleading with you. “Okay.”

You take off your shoes as he gets up. He hands you a change of clothes and he strips from his, laying in his bed waiting for you. You don’t know whether to change here or go into his bathroom. His eyes are are staring at you and you decide fuck it. He divulged how he felt, you can give in for at least this. You change into the shirt he gave you, leaving the pants to the side and get into bed. His fist still holds the necklace, you take his hand. The piece of jewelry moving to you.

You look at it, mixed emotions fill you. The happiness when you first got it, how you thought it was a step further in the relationship. The sadness of when you found him at the bonfire. The confusion you feel at this moment. You forgive him. You want to get past this and it seems like he does too. There’s still this fear in the back of your mind.

He traces your facial features with a light touch, scooting closer to your body. You are both on your sides facing each other. His eyes are drooping, sleep knocking on his door. Slowly fading his consciousness as he fights it off to have one more minute with you. “I think I’ll always be in love with you.” His words are softly whispered between you two.

Your mind short circuits. He said he was in love with you. There’s no way he actually said that. His hand lays motionless on your side, the sandman claiming him as his next victim. You look at him and then the necklace once again. Shifting slightly as to not wake him, you put the necklace back on. You move closer to him, touching his jaw. Letting sleep take you with it. “I’ll always be in love with you too.”

#rafe x reader #rafe cameron #rafe obx #obx #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe outer banks #rafe x nannyreader

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hythlodaeus-mynewoldfriend · 2 days

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Mayncient Day 23: Dearest

Get Along Without You

Had the first part in my wips for ages and had sudden inspiration for this day so here it is for you all! no warnings. word count 1.4k

They’re both lucky enough to have a full moon that casts enough light in the darkest parts of the city to allow them to walk in peace. Lucky enough that when they do finally come to a spot in the empty park there’s just enough shadow to allow for their masks to be removed.

Conner sits closer to the path, letting his height add protection to Elidibus’ identity despite it being well into the hours that any sane person would be in bed. Even with the white mask and black robes the Emissary still fears the potential backlash should he be found with Conner, a sentiment that he understands. Yet in this moonlit spot Conner can see the man relax as if they were behind closed doors, a smile playing on his lips as he watches Elidibus look up at the stars. “It’s quiet tonight,” he says, his white hair blowing gently in the small breeze, “something I wouldn’t expect of this place. Always noise. People, kids, and little animals during the day.”

“It's nice.” Conner inhales deeply, smiling and looking up at the sky also, “This has become my favorite time of day now.”

Elidibus frowns, “It used to be dawn.”

Conner shrugs, “It's still the early morning technically. Besides, a person’s favorite time of day can change or also just have multiple favorites.”

“Not with you Conner. You were-.”

“You’re not going to change my mind on being with you Elidibus,” he assures, “I know back then it felt like there were no consequences because it was just sex, but I still could have left when this became a lot more than that. I know what air we must put on when the white robes are on and we are at work keeping a little closer to the shadows, a small price to pay to have the times like this where you are better dressed for the shadows and yet do everything except stay in them.”

“If only we never had to in the first place. Do you not wish to be more open at work? Among friends?”

“I think in all cases there is a certain kind of secrecy when in a working environment out of professionalism so not much would change on that front really. As for friends, well,” Conner chuckles, shaking his head, “we already are, as they know not to ask too many questions. You remember how Hythlodaeus’ partner was when we happened to cross paths as the two were making their way home?”

The memory brings a small smile back to Elidibus’ face, “I do not believe I had ever seen Anthea more authoritative than in that moment.” He sighs, shoulders relaxing as he leans against Conner, fingers becoming entwined with his, “I just wish that I, as Themis, can be enough for you as Elidibus certainly cannot be.”

Conner tilts his head upward, caressing his jawline to let his hand become loosely entangled in the long white hair. He brings his lips down softly to his, the chill of the night air disappearing in an instant even as Conner pulls away just far enough to whisper, “It will never matter to me who you are. You are by my side right now and that is enough.”

It isn’t enough in this time of calamity when Elidibus recalls that moment as the skies darken and people flee below the earth. Things are going to plan as he can feel that starting fusion of worlds, of another piece of Zodiark stitched by his brethren, and of the decimation of a world he never cared to know. He stopped trying to get to know the people of those broken worlds after they were successful in rejoining the first piece to Him. What was the point when they weren’t supposed to exist to begin with? He’d stick to those that would become whole once again.

It was a third attempt to see if there was something more to it all, if The Shepherd on the moon was right to have abandoned them all those years ago like Emet-Selch had said. Three attempts and this would be the last. He can already see how this one ends, can already feel the slow crawl of grief that’s never sat nicely since the world he knew fell apart, can see this version doing what Elidibus can only assume happened the first time.

These people don’t have magic yet that doesn’t stop this incarnation of Conner weaving through destruction getting as many as he can underground. He’s had several close calls with the smoke engulfing him and lightning starting to rain down and still it does not deter the man….and each time it causes a panic to rise in Elidibus briefly. Each time he wonders if this will be the moment he witnesses the death of his dearest and so he intervenes in ways imperceptible to those of this era. His brethren would scoff at the intervention, and he can’t blame them, this is only one man and what was a single man compared to the many they were working on bringing back? The preservation of this one man is not worth the whole of the star.

Yet how would they know that this one man, his soul on its first journey in this new world, was the only reasoning he could find to let them continue with what they were doing. That maybe, just maybe, he could have the power to bring him back, get back that little piece of his heart that was given in exchange for the hopes of many. To see those blue eyes framed by ebony hair once again, to hear his laughter when they tried to dance and Elidibus couldn’t help but try to take the lead which had their legs tangled as they fell to the ground, to feel his own heart race when their eyes would meet in the Convocation building knowing what could come next. To experience the smell of the various herbs and plants he kept just for the joy of it once more, and to taste the cool moonlight on Conner’s lips as the sun rose to remind them of duty that always won. This one man was a reminder of what he sacrificed….

And what a mistake it was to have indulged in this fantasy.

Their time together was bliss. The way they met almost like the first time, but it wasn’t uncertainty about his new appointment that kept him silent, but the instant recognition of his eyes among features that were nothing like Conner. Elidibus didn’t need to check the color of his soul to know it was him, though he did anyway, it was enough to have those soulful eyes look at him once more. Enough to bring him back to this incarnation and strike up conversation after conversation in an openness Elidibus hadn’t known when the world was whole. To create a fleeting life within that freedom and to fall once more for someone that was a close approximation to the man he lost. Yet fleeting is all this ever was, even if he was to live to be old and grey a few decades is nothing in the centuries Elidibus has lived. He knows this and still it hurts. Still it hurts to see them all leave in ways that feel unnatural, after centuries of witnessing and being the cause of millions of deaths he still cannot stop the torturous pain from enveloping him. He wants to be free of this cycle….

So this will be the last time he lives among them. The last time he will go searching for those he once knew. The last time he will let himself be distracted by the doubts that plague his mind. The last time he will let himself recall or create memories to hold onto. After this Calamity he will once again put duty above all else.

But first he will get this incarnation of Conner to the fleeting safety of the ground. Will stay with him for the last two months he has before returning to the sea to begin once again. Will hold him during his last breaths and mourn with the others before disappearing into the shadows, where he will stay dressed in white to perform his duty like he did so long ago. All the while holding onto the fact that he for just a moment had Conner right by his side….

….and it wasn’t enough….

#idk what happened i'm sorry #but took it in the route of a one word prompt so uhm yeah #anyway have fun #x: moonlight serenade #elidibus #elidibus x oc #mayncient #mayncient 2024 #my writing #ffxiv fanfic #ffxiv #apologies for any mistakes but we die like men here

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assiraphales · 2 years

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brendan fraser broke down in tears bc a film he’s involved in (the whale) got a six minute standing ovation, and I just can’t stop thinking about 1. how happy I am for him bc he’s one of my forever faves and 2. how badly he’s been treated. this is an incredible moment for him, but it’s important to note that it comes after years and years and years of his aging body being CONSTANTLY compared to the peak of his physicality/youth. the endless videos and posts (from tiktok to magazines to twitter photo sets to texting your friend about how hot he used to be) talking about his glow down and how he let his looks go to “waste”. it’s taken him this long to break thru his personal trauma and the internet’s correlation of his “worth” w his appearance. and now he’s in the news crying bc people are once again witnessing his talent, and measuring him by that instead of his weight

#idk man #just remember small kindnesses can go so far #brendan fraser

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beatcroc · 9 months

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comic planning/roughs on the clock at work 👍 ok. this one's still a few posts out though

#god i really do just need to get a tablet or. something #some way to draw digitally on the go bc my laptop is um #at least 200% less portable than your typical old clunky laptop. its a whole ordeal #and as u can see tradish scribbles are barely usable #though i guess it would help if i ever remembered to grab something besides a shite pen at work lmao <-hates pen forever #mad bc i think this one is kind of mid+redundant for what i'd intended it to do bc of how some of the previous ones shifted #but i still gotta draw it bc one of the later ones uses it. buh #when i said these werent chronological or connected btw i lied #though only VERY VERY LOOSELY so. enough to bother *me* if i don't do them in order #but not enough that's really going to be noticeable to anyone else. they're each still intended 99% as standalone.#the arc is very minor but its there. for me. for anyone else it probably just amounts to a couple easter egg references/ consistencies #by the by the pizzaposts before this arent part of the series.#one small quickie thing and one i would...really like to get done sooner rather than later bc i need it out of my system #former's like 70% sketched im just waffling on execution #latter is uh...theres a lot there but it's harder to work on And harder tell how close to done it is.#unrelated its funny how i Always forget brick until i start putting anything down and then its like oh god yeah i can do bg Jokes with him #funny in the sense that one of my webcomic protag oc's is a...spatially similar deal as him [little kid with a big bear companion]#and i ALWAYS forget the bear when im scripting it. until i start messing with the layout and its like fuck theres a bear.#i have to do things with this now. fortunately thus far it hasn't been too hard to adapt #much rambling tonight goodbye. i haev to go block all these damn bots

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milkweedman · 10 months

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ah, the ever-more-frequent Urge To Explode My Brain from unending migraines. a migraine that just lasts the day already sucks so bad. whole day is gone in a blur of pain and misery, right ? a migraine that lasts multiple days is sort of like if hell was real and you were in it. time has no meaning, only pain, etc.

months of migraines... with no break or end or effective treatment and also you still have to work and behave like a normal person because you cannot lie in bed for months not paying rent. well id describe it you but ive fucking lost the plot. its gone on so long and its so bad that when the migraine ISN'T at its peaking on the pain scale and making me feel like if i was hit by a truck that would be an improvement, i start to feel like my head is a vestigial organ that has been removed. cant access sensation in my head and it feels literally disconnected from my body. meanwhile the pain is still there (along with the brain fog, vertigo, nausea, etc) but it feels like its happening to somebody else.

#im kind of impressed that i can at this point carry a normal conversation (as good as i ever can. which is bad but irrelevant)#while being in agony and having been in agony for as long as i can remember #usually also with something dislocated just for some extra fun #because what i actually feel like doing 100% of the time is lighting myself on fire and/or screaming forever until i die #however thats the kind of shit that puts you in the psych ward again #so i am. smiling and making small talk while migraine auras wash out my vision and i try not to visibly dry heave #its really really really fucking bad. all the time so fucking bad.#i need to message my neurologist but likelihood of me doing that is low #because 1) the stuff she's put me on has so far done nothing but add intolerable side effects to the hell that i am already existing in #and 2) its fucking hard to do anything. even the bare minimum im not doing. so extra shit is just. not happening #i want to scream.#i am gonna. go for a walk and smoke a cigarette instead and then get really high because at least then i dont really care #the auras are making it really hard to see though. theyre like bleach all over my vision. just this wash of white #hhh.#chronic illness #chronic migraine #and its like. when my knee also gives out and it feels like theres metal in there slicing everything up with each tiny movement #or any of the other one million goddamn things broken in my body #i end up so overwhelmed by pain that i just want to lay on the floor and cry #at which point everyone around me gets mad that im not being productive and im costing them money and im not good enough #like ok kill me then. cheaper for you happier for me. just get a heavy object and go to town i would thank you for it #but i cant even say that because openly expressing suicidality just makes people angrier #im rapidly running out of fucks to give but also i will do anything to avoid returning to the psych ward #literally anything. morals out the window. i dont give a shit.#so its a catch-22.#vent

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brainrotdotorg · 5 months

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imagine a dashboard for alligators. what do you think that would look like

2 notes

🍏gatoridae Follow

Controversial opinion. If you're doing nothing but eating meat, what are you even doing. Remember to include bugs, fruits, and legumes into your diet in order to help aid digestion of the meat that you get from snakes, fish, and mammals.

Just because we have the reputation for eating lots of meat, that doesn't mean we have to stick to it.

🥒biting-you-biting-you Follow

counterpoint: fuit yucky

🪵blog-from-a-bog Follow

wdym reputation of eating meat. i float lik ea log thats what im known for

4,904 notes

🌿swamp-ass Follow

asked dad if i could go and steal some Floridian guy's lunch and he said "we have prey at home" girl we have been doing shit ALL DAY i am an awesome 600 pounds and I need some meat left on me to deathroll with. let me get a quick snack that i don't need to kill mmmmmmm burgers I want people food soooooo badddd....... i know they shouldn't feed it to me but I have such a lovely smile oh please oh please give me your burger.........

182 notes

🥗aliali-seeyoulater Follow

mom says it was cold the season she laid me so i have to be a girl. because girls are always born from eggs laid during cold seasons.

cope and seethe mother first of all, second of all, the reason i am transgender is because you kept me too fucking snuggly warm in the nest.

#i guess if you wanted a daughter you should have. idk. made a shittier nest? #thats not really my fault man

81,337 notes

⛰fuckyeahhugesnout Follow

You'll never guess how I just learned that we have the honor of being the "loudest reptiles in the world"

🫑teethem Follow

Yeah yeah, the 90 decibel mating bellow, we've all heard it.

🤢ch0mper Follow

we've all heard the what

135,633 notes

🩲gaytorrr Follow

this guy asked if i wanted to see his gator hole and i said fuck yes. why this boy take me into a 65 foot long hole in the mud at the bottom of the lake

6,421 notes

🏞daily-clawsitivity

✨Remember to take it easy sometimes!✨We thrive in slow-moving waters!✨Even though we can run fast, we get tired fast too-- it's okay to let yourself take breaks!✨Let yourself relax, that's how we made it this far as a species.

mud-rocks-deactivated20140706

Yeah, imagine telling your prehistoric great great great great great great great great great great grandpa or something to calm down and relax when he should be doing nothing but deathrolls. the longevity of the species should be your only goal. It's irresponsible to encourage your fucking species to fall behind even more than it already has? Have some pride, you're not a crocodile.

scalesssss-deactivated20150310

jesus christ calm down

alidile-crocogator-deactvated20140709

Okay, this post has a lot of misconceptions in it. There aren't as many differences between crocodiles and alligators than you think. It's really harmful to think that we have nothing in common with each other. So what if they're carnivores and we're closer to omnivores, or their snouts are more U shaped while ours are V shaped. We're both badass miracles of nature that have no reason to be pit against one another all the time.

Don't listen to guys like this. It's just hateful and small-minded.

stop-jawlock-androll-deactivated20140911

crocs are like. like them shoes that float right

wetlandia898 Follow

i wish i was a crocodile because i could have a virgin birth and i wanted to see what it would be like to eat an immaculate conception.

bigchallengesrealblog-deactivated20190412

welcome to the no notes gator/croc discourse post.

🦖l8rg8tr-z Follow

omg this is the post.... i can't believe i would see this naturally on my dash

🎍taildraggers Follow

Uh are we just going to ignore the virgin birth reply orrrrrrrrr

🐊gator-heritage-posts

gator heritage post

0 notes

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa Follow

hgwiow h

hsfhjs

howw ws i nbevyrboy tyopingssaog oo vd wi hhrth rh thrre cl alawas ?>>

🌴a-l-g-t-r Follow

lmao this idiot never learned how to use their tail to type

#/j lol yeah its kind of hard at first #actually i'd say cut your losses and forget how to type bring the laptop back to the dumpster its not worth it

39 notes

🐍bellowbellowmygoodfellow Follow

am i fucking stupid. i just learned theres another species of alligator other than just me and the guys in my swamp. and i said "oh wow I didn't know that! which one of the two are we haha" and my buddy just stared at me like I was a fucking idiot. how am i supposed to know if no one ever tells me this . WHICH AM I

🍖meet-eat3r Follow

there are only 70-80 mature chinese gators in existence while there are 750,00-1 million mature american gators . do the math.

🐍bellowbellowmygoodfellow Follow

i could have just hatched you don't know me.

20,570 notes

🍀gatortears Follow

a group of queer gators in church call that a congregaytion

#reblogging this one bc none of you appreciate me

1 notes

👞makemeintoshoesdaddy Follow

I'm seeing the no notes gator/croc post circulate again and ha ha yes it's very funny, but we are NOT starting gator/croc discourse in 2024. lets leave that shit in the past. i know that's not what the post really ended up being about but i am soooooo sick of it.

🌾clawstothewalls Follow

okay, so the one with a fetish for getting turned into handbags is gonna talk down to us now.

👞 makemeintoshoesdaddy Follow

Not to be a pedant but its Shoes Actually. It even says so in the name. Shoes.

2,663 notes

#this post was all an excuse to tell you alligator fun facts #i fucking got you dude. i got you

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hyewka · 6 months

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warnings. sub!tyun, noona!reader, desperate shit, degrading, use of whore/slut, handjob

flirt freshman!taehyun who, even if he looks polite and at times would even be described as cute, is definitely a heartbreaker. stringing along, fucking, then ghosting.

you see right through his nice guy act when he subtly hits on you, flashing you his white pearls, blinding smile that show off his dimpled cheeks and the way his eyes form into crescents, his simple charms almost, almost having an effect on you. but you know better, you’ve already passed this chapter of your life, getting yourself fucked over by cute assholes. so you reject any and all advances that he makes on you, even as so far as to completely ignore him whenever he addresses you in a group setting.

you wanted to protect yourself, because again, you knew better. but what you dont realize is how often your blatant rejections have been either straight up cruelly humiliating or just plain harsh to the younger boy. not until you’re stuck with taehyun as you awkwardly wait in the car for your friends.

“why dont you like me?” he starts, quiet as he looks out the window. you turn to look at him, a little astonished that he decided to confront you. then you quickly recollect yourself, clearing your throat.

“who told you that?”

he scoffs, a sneer retching his expression. “you’re kidding aren’t you? i don’t think i know anybody more repulsed with me than you. everyone can see it. you almost jumped out of the car when they told you i was going to sit in the back tonight.”

it’s like hes been keeping all of his thoughts behind a lock with how fast everything spilled out of his mouth and you take in a breath. “okay now that’s an exaggeration.”

“not really.”

then it falls silent again, hearing the distant horns of cars and you awkwardly shift. he’s right, its not.

then suddenly, his eyes shift from the window to you, and the eye contact catches you off guard, you can make out the slight furrow of his brows and the small pout that rests on his lips—you’ve never seen him look like that. you avert your gaze almost immediately.

but he’s still staring. and it has you nervously tapping your finger on your lap.

“i like you, noona.”

your eyes widen a little. not because of the confession, you knew it was coming eventually. something about this variation of gentleness with his voice that you don’t think you’ve quite heard…ever coming from a man has your heart beat just a little faster. noona? its nothing new coming from taehyun, but your hands still slight dig into the fabric of your skirt. “if that wasn’t already obvious enough.” he says bitterly with a non humored laugh.

you spend the entire night, staring at your blank empty google doc, wallowing in all thoughts related to taehyun. it kind of pisses you off that he’s managed to chip a little away from your wall, you usually disperse any thought that comes up in your head that has to do with him. but now you choose to give yourself a leeway, just a little to think over whether he was being genuine, and whatever happened in the car was taehyun serving his heart on the platter to be so…vulnerable, or if it was just the last trick up his sleeve to lure you in like a toy he can’t have.

but then you remember the little features—the way his brows slightly turned up, the way his bottom lip instinctively stuck out, just a tiny bit—the way his eyes twinkled, just somewhat, as cliché as it is to say, it felt genuine, real.

when taehyun sends you a text that night, with a string of other unread messages from weeks or days ago before it—you come to the conclusion that he likes you, really likes you.

sorry, ignore what i said today

i don’t want you feeling uncomfortable around me any more than you do

your heart swells a little, simultaneously feeling the guilt conscience slowly creeping up on you. maybe you really did misread him this entire time.

so imagine your surprise when the next time you see taehyun, a week later, it’s at a frat party, looking down at a girl clinging onto his arms with those same twinkling eyes, smile, dimples, gentle look—eventually laughing then biting down on his lips as he looks away, the red on tips of his ears making you fume more than you’d admit. you don’t know what it was, what exactly made you insane enough to stomp over to him in long strides, wobbly pushing through the drunks, seeing red as you grab taehyun by the arm when he’s of reach—the surprised look on his face only lasting for a second before you furiously turn around, dragging him away from the confused girl that he was getting way too flirty with.

he could’ve easily shaken off your grip, it was weak, but he followed, he let you take him, only when you push him in a non occupied room and lock the door does he finally say something.

“hey, what the fuck was that—”

then you go for it. throwing all logical justifications and reasoning, you pull him into you harshly by the collar of his shirt, crashing your lips onto his. you don’t know what you expected, up to now it felt like you’ve been on airplane mode, but you know it wasn’t what taehyun returns. even if youre the one who came onto him first, he kisses back even more passionately, leaning into you, so quick to be receptive, hands going up to your cheeks as he lets you walk him hard into the door, latching onto your lips as if its a taste of a drug that has him hooked right from the first dose.

he’s so…desperate, it scares you, and turns you on at the same time. every time you try to pull away a little he reels you back almost immediately following your lips, the kiss becoming open mouthed as he breathes in and gets more and more messy, sloppy—he’s so sloppy, it’s the last thing you expected from him.

you finally manage to pull away, both of you catching your breath, with his lips glistening and red, mouth agape, chest heaving, up and down as he stares stunned.

“wha—um, so—fuck, sorry, no wait—” hes stumbling over his words. again, something taehyun never does. whenever hes spoken to you, it always felt so calculated, like every word hes thought over, because it felt so perfect. hes always collected.

you clasp your hand over his mouth, weakly, but he stills shuts up his ramble and jumble of words, blinking at you, with those god damn adorable brown eyes.

“kindly, shut the fuck up.”

his brows twitch a little, but he’s still silent.

your eyes search for something in his, you don’t know what, but it feels like you’ve gotten a green light, sighing. “i wanna fuck you.”

“shit.” he marvels, feeling his breath against your palm, his eyes still just as wide. you don’t know what exactly he’s thinking but if the dick already poking against your thigh was any indication, it was that he wanted it. really bad.

you slip your hand off his lips, then you whisper, fixated on how plump they are, “open your mouth.”

he blinks confused, hesitant until you take it upon yourself to rub your thigh against the tent in his pants, having him almost immediately buckle as he lets out a sinful groan. you should know he’s probably not into what you’re into, so you ease into it, testing the waters as you press yourself flush against him, rubbing your leg up and down against his clothed dick. “feel good?”

“y-yeah, shit, noona, please touch me.”

“i am touching you,” you swipe your hand over his bottom lip, fuck, they really are pretty. and so kissable. you’re shocked you haven’t kissed them sooner.

“no, i want your hand.”

you scoff, he’s so confident with what he wants, and so demanding. bratty. he’s probably so used to dominating. “this isn’t enough? me getting off your crusty dick isn’t enough for you? you’re feeling good, aren’t you?”

you press harder and with no consent of his own, his breaths knocked out of him, a slight squeak by the end that has his ears running red again. your thumb slips into his mouth, easing into it, slowly, before you fully press on his tongue as the friction of your knees against his cock gets more and more frantic and torturous. “you tell me you like me then decide i’m not worth the headache, a week later you run off to another innocent girl you’ll try to break the heart of after getting your fill. someone needs to keep you in check for becoming such an asshole, no? do you have no shame?” you mock, feeding him another finger in his mouth so he can’t retort like you know the smartass in him would do.

he sucks on them, surprising you as you feel his tongue licking eagerly…fuck, how badly did you misread him?

but you can tell with the way his eyes involuntarily water, and the way he shakes his vehemently, he still has the audacity to deny everything.

you scoff, slipping them out of his mouth, string of his saliva coating your fingers and shoving that hand down his pants, promplty grabbing his dick, marveling at the soft, wet feel. he already spilled so much pre-cum—slut. he likes this.

“you don’t like me, you have no right to be jea—hahhh..fuck, you can’t be jealous, you c-can’t. shit, faster, faster please noona, noona…” he whines, delirious as he gets lost at the feeling of your hand, bucking his hips, clearly getting frustrated with how irritatingly slow you’re tugging at his dick.

“i don’t. i don’t like you. i don’t like slutty men who’re bad.”

he whimpers, and fuck does that noise have you pooling your underwear.

“how have i been bad? how? i’m always good to you, i always—”

you twist your hand a little and his head immedietely falls back against the door, mouth hung open as he lets out pathetic, needy pants, “fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“like it? is it how you imagined it’d feel to have my hands wrapped around your cock?” you press, kissing down his jawline, hand letting out wet sounds as you jerk him off with more speed

“yes, yes, so much better noona, so much—” he chokes on his own words when you suck on his neck, feeling him let out shuddering breaths. cute.

when you use your other hand to trail up under his shirt, feeling up his muscle, you can hear him gulp, and for whatever reason, it turns you on even more.

“fuck, you’ve been trying to dom me, haven’t you?” he breathes out.

you let out an airy laugh out of your nose, grazing your thumb over his nipple, the hitch of his breath being your undoing. “i have been domming you—this entire time. what, don’t like it when a womans in charge?”

he shakes his head immediately, “no, no, i like it. i really do, i like it a lot. i like it when its you, noona.”

even when you have his mind sent to overdrive, he still knows exactly what to say to have your heart racing, it’s dangerous.

“hm?” you hum, throat dry, trying to forget the comment thats repeating over and over in your head. he likes it when its you. you scoff a laugh, “you really know how to get a girl going huh?”

“would treat you right. give me a chance noona, i’ll treat you like a queen.”

“a queen?” you laugh, then pretend to ponder on it as you play with his bud more, his dick leaking through your hand—he’s enjoying it all too much. “think would like goddess more.”

he moans wantonly when you thumb his tip, then transitioning to jacking off his shaft in frantic speed, it gets him delirious. “goddess, goddess, fuck—i’ll treat you like a goddess baby, swear.”

“sure you wouldn’t ghost me?”

his breath hitches again, head dipping into your shoulder, jaw practically hung open, mix of moans and whines spilling out of his mouth dumbly—who would’ve thought, huh? “never. so pretty, you’re so pretty and smart, and and—”

“such a slut, just want your dick touched and you’ll say anything.”

you feel him shake his head, still panting heavily as he grabbles onto you for support. he’s clingier than you expected, he holds onto you so often.

“faster…faster please, ‘m sososo close.” he sobs, his shaky breath fanning on your shoulder.

you chuckle, giving him what he wants, the wet squelching sounds heightening until he breaks. “gonna—gonna-” he spills before he could even finish his sentence, with a high pitched noise he cums in his pants, no doubt creating a big stain in the area of his crotch.

well, shit.

but when he lifts his head, a dopey smile on his face, eyes glazed over still, you think he might not mind all too much.

############

note. long overdue sub taehyun and a noona smut from me 🙏 did they fuck. no. will there be a future continuation of this au. perhaps.

#txt smut #sub!txt #sub!idol #taehyun smut #taehyun hard thoughts #taehyun hard hours #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt x reader #yeonjun smut

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