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#love the money hate not having time or the will to write and being on tumblr 😫
smilingbuckley · 1 day
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20 questions for fic writers
Tagged by @diazsdimples
1. How many works do you have on ao3?
302 because I removed some earlier works (2018) from anonymous. I've been writing since like 2016 in general and moved some fics from wattpad to ao3 in 2018/2019
2. What's your total ao3 word count?
1,369,693
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Mainly 9-1-1. Though I also want to write a few more for Roswell New Mexico and The Rookie. I used to write Teen Wolf, Legenfs of Tomorrow and Glee fics. Dipped my toes into a few other fandoms as well.
4. Top 5 fics by kudos
The Human of the Pack (Teen Wolf, 3,149 kudos)
Firefighter Diaz (9-1-1, 3,096 kudos)
5 Times Bobby and Athena Acter Like Buck's Parents + 1 Time They Actually Are (9-1-1, 2,366 kudos)
driving me wild (9-1-1, 2,295 kudos)
this is a place where I feel at home (9-1-1, 2,204)
5. Do you respond to comments?
Yes! Sometimes it takes me a few days because it can be overwhelming, but I try to respond to everything. Except ones that complain about something, I tend to ignore them
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
I tend to prefer happy endings, but I have I think 3 with sad endings. While unrequited Buddie is very sad, I think the angstiest one is where Bobby is dying and Buck cries in Eddie’s arms. (That ending is sadder than the sequel where Bobby actually dies because in that ending, Buck dies of old age and gets reunited with Bobby again)
If you want to read them, you can find the series here.
7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Hmm. I don't know. I try to always write a happy ending. So almost all of them?? I really don't know which one to choose.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
Occasionally. I usually delete them. I think only 2 fics got a lot - one where Tarlos was tagged as a background ship but the Tarlos fans got angry that they weren't the main ship, so an entire army of Tarlos fans flooded my comments with anonymous hate comments. And one where Chris is being a teenager and in an argument says that Buck isn't his father or something like that, I think that he wished Buck and Eddie weren't dating? It's been a while since I wrote it. Anyway, I wrote Buck getting insecure and sad and breaking up with Eddie without telling him why and people got mad at me that Buck didn't tell Eddie - though I did that on purpose because Buck was very insecure and didn't want to hurt Eddie with that knowledge. Ended up turning off comments in general for a while.
9. Do you write smut?
Yep. For a long time smut made me uncomfortable and now here I am...
10. Craziest crossover?
Oohh haven't written one in years. I once wrote a Christmas fic back in 2018 where every fandom I was in got connected, but I ended up deleting that one because it was a mess. I think I wrote one or two Glee/The Flash crossovers where Barry and Sebastian were related? Oh, and one with Teen Wolf where Barry and Stiles were related.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
I did once get a message that someone copied my fic to wattpad but it was deleted by the time I checked it out. Otherwise, I'm not aware of an entire fic, word for word, being stolen
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Yes! Two actually. And people have reached out recently offering new translations as well.
Right now one of my Teen Wolf fics was translated into Spanish and a 9-1-1 fic to Ukrainian.
13. Have you co-written a fic before?
Not since my Wattpad days
14. All time favorite ship?
Romantically: Buddie.
A relationship (not romantic) in general: Buck & Bobby. They are my favorite relationship of all time. I just love their father-son bond.
15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will
Oohhhh uhm.... my farm fic. I love the idea of it but it has been more than a year since I touched it and realistically... I probably won't ever touch it.
(My farm fic is an AU where Buck was forced to take the lawsuit money and left to start a farm with rescue animals. He makes up with everyone but Eddie and keeps in contact with Christopher with letters and postcards. One day, Christopher runs away after an argument with Eddie, and he goes to visit Buck. Buck calls Eddie because he has to, so Eddie comes pick him up. But then there's a storm and they're stuck staying with Buck)
16. What are your writing strengths?
I am allergic to saying anything positive about my writing so I couldn't tell you 😂
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
Pff. Uhm. Descriptions maybe? I tend to mostly write dialogue. I try to add some more actions while editing but don't always manage to.
18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language
I'm learning Spanish on duolingo just so I can include more Spanish in my fics, but I don't often do it. I do really like it though. I love it when bilingual characters speak the other language.
Back in my Seblaine days, I loved writing Sebastian speaking French. And I don't think I wrote it, but I also used to love Teen Wolf fics where Stiles spoke Polish.
19. First fandom you wrote for
Every Witch Way. I was 11 or 12 years old and new to Wattpad. There were no Dutch fanfics so I wrote my own. I learned English by reading fanfics. (Very important: I was team Jemma.)
The first one I wrote in English was Teen Wolf, also on Wattpad... it wasn't great.
20. Favorite fic you've written
I love writing long fics the most. My all time favorite is probably worth staying for, my nurse Buck fic.
Though a more recent one that I loved writing soooo much is since I met you, I just can't forget you which is my veterinarian Buck x cat dad Eddie fic. I loved it so much.
Tagging: @buddieswhvre @tizniz @steadfastsaturnsrings @watchyourbuck @theotherbuckley @jesuiscenseedormir @loveyouanyway @bidisasterevankinard @chaosandwolves @mattsire @mel-vaz @inkmortal-trash389 @princess-of-the-snake-pit @nilletellsstories @laundryandtaxesworld @specialbrownieeater @m1kayu
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pinkpuffballdude · 2 years
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#true story#I hate having emotions they feel so dumb and bad#I feel like I'm preforming for an audience except the audience is me and I'm taking notes#so I can write a scathing critique later#I've been crying for nearly two hours and it still doesn't feel real#ya know. I felt. vaguely guilty spending so much money#on a plushie. and a limited edition sweatshirt. at the time#but they're making me feel better now#thanks for being here everybody. don't like making two tag posts in one night#but I'm just. I feel awful. I need to reach out and feel like someone's reaching back#I want to rewatch some of his old videos but I can't bear to hear his voice#I just keep watching. this one over and over.#it's him. it's so him. I love him.#death mention#everything. feels like the wrong reaction. none of my emotions feel. correct.#not right or valid because all of them are#but I feel like I'm giving the wrong answer on a multiple choice test#all the answers are technically correct but only one will get me points#again. scathing critique.#I want to make something but it feels trite. I want to sleep but that feels disrespectful. I want to exist in the moment#but that's too sincere. and so on and so forth.#I don't like. having complex emotions. I wanna be a fish.#second thoughts third thoughts making me realize why I love him so much. he reminds me of me.#I wish I could be inside myself for just a minute.#anyway. I think I'll be okay. there's a cat on my lap now and all she knows is that I'm sad#but sometimes she makes me feel better. so now she's here.#I glad his dad has floof.
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silhouettecrow · 5 months
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365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 330
Adjective: Vivacious
Noun: Delta
Definitions for those who need/want them:
Vivacious: attractively lively and animated (typically used of a woman)
Delta: the fourth letter of the Greek alphabet (Δ, δ), transliterated as ‘d’; the fourth in a series of items, categories, etc; (astronomy) the fourth (usually fourth brightest) star in a constellation; a code word representing the letter D, used in radio communication; a difference between two things or values; (computing) a change or set of changes made to a file or program, especially as part of an update to a later version; a triangular tract tract of sediment deposited at the mouth of a river, typically where it diverges into several outlets; a region in northern Mississippi that lies between the Yazoo and Mississippi rivers and is known for its cotton and for blues music
#im rather late again#oops#i accidentally fell asleep (once again)#my girlfriend and i had a pretty exhausting day#cos we ran a pop-up shop for our art for about four hours and sadly we didnt make very much money#we also had a little girl come by multiple times and comment on all the things she loved and wanted to buy#and when she finally brought her mom over her mom kept shutting down everything she was asking for#(all of which we sell for much cheaper than we probably should)#and the mom kept saying how she (the little girl) could just 'make it herself'#which fucking sucks to hear as an artist and is just incorrect (thats the point of art whatever you make only YOU can make)#also thats so shitty to say to the little girl cos what if she tries to make something like our art and cant?#i just hated that mom for being so rude and disrespectful both to us as artists trying to make a living#and to her kid who just wanted a piece of art to brighten up her life#(cos her home life probably isnt great if her mom treats her and things she enjoys like that all the time)#(i also felt extra terrible for her because she wanted to buy one of my girlfriends clay cats cos it looked like her cat)#sorry for the wee rant but that just pissed me off and broke my heart at the same time#anyway i really like this prompt cos 'vivacious' is decently flexible despite having only one real definition#whereas 'delta' feels a bit like the opposite cos it has lots of definitions but each one is fairly rigid#currently im thinking of writing about a river 'delta' that is 'vivacious' because it has a lot of plant and animal life#and i think i will really love writing a poem like that#thanks for reading#writing#writer#creative writing#writing prompt#writeblr#trying to be a writeblr at least
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britbi · 10 months
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bleh
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areislol · 5 months
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"would you kiss me for $10 or the hottest person in the world for $1000?"
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ft— blade, gepard, dan heng, jing yuan, luocha, welt, sampo, luka, argenti, dr. ratio
warning — none, just fluff! might be ooc, established relationship, gn! reader, no yanqing for this ;( mentions of kissing, might be cringe..? chinese names are simplified. not proofread.
a/n— y'all i apologize if they're ooc (can't justify it i haven't even played hsr yet) so yes. ENJOY as this is my second time writing for 'em
wordcount. 4.2k
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刃 blade
✧ .... he knew it was one of those.. silly media questions that couples do to one another. and he hates you for actually doing them (not really he loves you too much)
✧ he continued to stay silent as he sat on the bench, watching as you sat beside him—anticipating for his response that will decide whether or not he will sleep on the couch or not.
✧ "ugh you big bum just answer the question!!" you groan, slumping down on the bench.
✧ blade cocks his head and raises his brow, smirking at you. "you mean the complex question that will probably lead you unhappy if i don't say the answer you were hoping for and then not talk to me for the next couple of hours as you're petty and—"
✧ you quickly shut him up with your palm over his mouth, you were now mad at him for being too god damn right. warmth spread to your cheeks as you stared at him, completely flustered.
✧ "you better shut that mouth of yours baldie." you threaten, still keeping your palm over his mouth when you felt the icky, wet and textured feeling gliding across your palm, it was his tongue.
✧ wasting no time you pulled your hand back and stared at your palm before vigorously wiping it on your shirt, absolutely disgusted. "ewwww!! and you still haven't answered my question!!" you pout.
✧ blade huffs (he's very sassy), "yeah not after calling me baldie. i'm not even bald." he was so serious about it, it was very amusing to you.
✧ you pout even more, scooching closer to him. "okay i'm sorry for calling you baldie.. and yes you aren't bald. now will you please answer my question?!" blade continues to glare at you, thinking about his answer. well, he was only pretending to anyway.
✧ he already knew his answer the second the question slipped out of your mouth, obviously, kiss you for $10 (credits). even if it was for $1000 he could easily get that amount of money in a day and plus, you are the most hottest person in the entire universe.
✧ but he decided to tease you, he put on his thinking face, tapping his finger on his chin. "hm... i really don't know it's so hard to choose..." he hums, looking down at your face as he smirks in amusement at your silly little mad face.
✧ "so hard? SO HARD FOR WHAT????" you asked, leaning in closer. oh you were for sure getting irritated now.
✧ blade chuckles before engulfing you in a tight hug as you sat on his lap, face buried in his chest. "of course kiss you for $10, i don't need $1000 anyway."
✧ "what about the pretty part?" "you are the hottest of them all, y/n."
✧ you hummed in content, happy with his answer before speaking again. "see, it wasn't a trick question at all." blade rolls his eyes. "uh huh... so you weren't going to quote-on-quote, 'ground' me if i said the wrong answer?"
✧ "....no...."
✧ (btw he was still a lil hurt when you called him baldie. like wow, it really hit him deep)
杰帕德 gepard
✧ the second you asked him the question he did not hesitate and answered within 1 billion light speed.
✧ "you of course! i don't want to a random stranger who i don't know for $1000, i don't need that money when i have you."
✧ "oh— gepard—" yeah, you almost burst into tears at his answer. it was so geniune, sweet and adorable. even his face said it all!! he looked at you with such sincere eyes as he told you his reply!!
✧ gepard almost freaked out thinking he said the wrong thing when he saw the tears welling up in your eyes, he immediately held onto your shoulders, apologizing if he did anything wrong.
✧ you shake your head no and wipe away your tears dramatically, "n—no i'm fine gepard i'm just— i didn't expect you to say your answer so quickly! when i saw other couples doing it the other person is always hesitating or something."
✧ gepard is confused, was this a test or something? (poor baby doesn't know) and so you have to explain to him what the trend is all about and all that jazz.
✧ he doesn't think that it's a bad trend or anything, if anything he encourages you to ask him more questions!! anything you ask, he will reply asap 100%!!
✧ and so you asked more questions.
✧ "you don't care about the money gepard? that's a lot though, $1000!" you exclaim, gepard shakes his head and smiles, "i already said why i don't need that money, love, i don't need the money when i have you, you're priceless."
✧ EUGHHHHHHHHH HE JUST HAS TO HIT YOU WITH THAT. you smiled back and gave him a kiss on his cheek before backing away. "that's so sweet of you... okay next question, who is the hottestperson in the world?"
✧ gepard only stares into your eyes, mesmerized by your face, his eyes are trained on you and only you as his thumb caresses your cheek. "you, of course, you're the most hottest.. although i'd rather use prettiest instead, you are the most prettiest and amazing person in the entire universe."
✧ safe to say his face was peppered with kisses after that, not that he minds it.
丹恒 dan heng
✧ "what kind of question is that?" is the first thing he says, looking at you in confusion as he closes the book he was reading.
✧ you had just entered his room, phone in hand before asking him the question out of the blue so he assumed you saw something from the media which now... lead to this.
✧ you shrug, going back to your question. "don't be trying to change the topic, what would you do? kiss me for $10 or kiss the hottest person in the world for $1000?" you repeated, your brows furrowing. to dan heng, it was crazy scary how you looked right now, so desperate for his answer.
✧ "well obviously the hottest person in the world for $1000, that' so much money!" he replied, knowing what this was going to lead him to. "......so... you would kiss the most hottest person in the world for more money?"
✧ dan heng cringes as he nods his head slowly. your eyes narrowed as you began to glare at him, soon, you stormed out of his room, pissed, and with a right as well.
✧ dan heng sighs in defeat before getting up from his seat and following you to where you always went when you were mad, to the kitchen.
✧ and he was right, you were in the kitchen just snacking on food you just bought the day before, when you spotted him you turned around, your back facing him. "baby c'mon im sorry i was just joking.."
✧ hearing him call you "baby" did something to you but you didn't want to give in just yet. you were mad at him still. you pout (not like he can see you but still) and continue to munch on your food angrily.
✧ "i didn't mean to, i promise i was just joking. i would much rather kiss you for $100 i pinky swear." .... "pinky swear?" "pinky swear."
✧ safe to say you accepted his apology as he absolutely peppered your face with millions of kisses before engulfing you in his arms.
✧ "you're ridiculous..." dan heng sighs, resting his eyes. "yeah well you love me so" well, he can't deny that.
景元 jing yuan
✧ jing yuan is definenetly doing the mathematical calculations in his head right now. because what in tarnation are you talking about?!
✧ he stares at you like you're crazy for a second before sighing, looking down and closing his eyes shut (he reminded you a lot like a disappointed dad...)
✧ "what do you mean? why are you asking me this out of the blue..." for one, he is a tad bit afraid that if he says the wrong thing you will sentence him to three (3) days to sleep on the couch, yeah, you banish him from your SHARED bedroom multiple times when he said the "wrong thing".
✧ you repeat your question again, waiting for his answer. "what a silly question, i would kiss you of course, with or without the $10." he breathed, planting a kiss on your forehead before pulling away and smirking, he knew that that was what you wanted to hear and the kiss was the cherry on top.
✧ for a few seconds you just sat there, too flustered to do anything. YES YOU KNEW IT WAS JUST A FOREHEAD KISS BUT IT'S JING YUAN OKAY
✧ "hm? is something the matter, my love?" he questions, leaning in closer to your face, he was much more taller than you (obviously) so he was quite literally towering over you, his face was so close to yours.
✧ you shake your head before going in for a small and chaste kiss and closing your eyes, you can feel the smile on his lips as he pulls you closer to him by your waist and deepens the kiss. your brain was starting to get fuzzy as you felt more and more delirious. jing yuan just knew how to make you fold.
✧ "hey! this isn't an excuse to make out with me you know?" you pull away breathless, looking quite dazed just for this "simple" kiss. jing yuan hums, resting his head on your shoulder before speaking up.
✧ "you know you love it." at his words you sigh and shake your head, "well i can't deny that..." you reply with a smile as you run your fingers through his soft hair.
✧ a few minutes go by in silence, you assume that jing yuan was asleep by how calm and quite he was, when the silence was broken. "does this mean i can sleep in our shared bedroom?"
✧ your brows furrowed at his words, was that all he was thinking about? "mmmmmmm now that you mentioned it..." "no." you chuckled, patting his head. "i know i know, yes, you get to sleep in our shared bedroom."
罗刹 luocha
✧ "what an odd question.." luocha replies, observing your very serious face. he found it amusing how you looked so serious after asking such a silly question.
✧ you whine and shake his arm, "just answer the question luocha it is very serious!! i need to know your answer!!" .... okay yes apparently it was very serious as you literally called him by his name and not some cute nickname.
✧ luocha offers you a soft and tender smile, the one he always does every time he spots you and or is with you (it never fails to make you swoon), "of course you, i don't need the money when i have you, are you doubting something my dear?"
✧ you shake your head at his words, happy with his answer. "no, everything's fine don't worry! thanks lychee." luocha then engulfs you in a hug all of the sudden, the scent of flowers filled your nose as his hair tickled your face.
✧ "your hair's in my face babe—" you mumble, moving the strands of hair off your face. luocha quickly apologized before pulling away, he cups your cheeks and stares deep into your eyes, which confused you.
✧ luocha continues to stare at you for a good hot minute, he was thinking about something. "say, did anything happen to you that prompted you to ask me that question? did someone do something? did i do something wrong?"
✧ he's so cute. anyway, you shake your head. "no, why?" luocha sighs in relief before taking his hands off your cheeks. "i don't know i assumed something happened that made you question me with that.. question. thank the lord i didn't do anything."
✧ kissing his cheek, you sighed dramatically, "well actually something did happen.. a certain somebody hasn't given me any attention for the past couple of hours"
✧ luocha playfully rolls his eyes, "my fault, princess/prince" and that's how he ended up peppering and littering you with kisses all over your face and no, you couldn't escape him even if you wanted to.
瓦尔特 welt
✧ if you keep asking him such questions he's only going to age more, physically, you're going to give him too many wrinkles if you keep on making him furrow his brows and frown.
✧ all you can hear is him heaving a great big sigh as he sets his mug down on the table, staring down at you. "the hottest person in the world?" he asks, you nod your head while smiling, you somewhat knew his answer already.
✧ "well it's you of course." he replied without any hesitation, you hummed and gave him a peck on his cheek. "right answer."
✧ "but why $10 only? you're worth more than that you know." he added, you only shrugged your shoulder. "i don't know it's what the text says" "the text?" "yeah, look!" you held your phone up and pointed at the screen where there was a couple, one of the partner asked a question—the same one you asked him.
✧ the other partner states that they would kiss the most hottest person in the world for $1000, it then showed a clip of the person sleeping on the couch. the answer was easy really, welt didn't understand how bad one person can mess something up.
✧ "well he was stupid, answer was easy." you agreed and put your phone away. "simple right? i knew you would say the right thing" you continued, welt only smiles in pride. "of course, i know what you want to hear, but i hope you know i would never kiss a random person, even if they were the hottest."
✧ your heart melts as he speaks, his words really sinking into you. "awwhh welt~" next thing he knows you're absolutely hugging the shit out of him (and rubbing your face in his chest), not that he minds.
桑博 sampo
✧ "well would you kiss me for $10 or kiss the hottest person in the world for $1000?" sampo repeated your own question back in a somewhat sassy tone. you were a bit shocked to say the least, i mean, how dare he not answer your question but answer your question with the same exact question!! (same energy ykyk)
✧ but obviously, you're used to his antics as you roll your eyes playfully, closing your phone. "seriously, shampoo. answer the question." "woah woah—shampoo? i said to call me anything but that!" he whines as he uses his hands to talk (as usual), very much exaggerating everything.
✧ you shrug your shoulders with an unamused "hmph" and don't reply any futhur. sampo dramatically sighs in defeat. "but babes, if you really think about it $1000 is a lot of money.." you raise your brow at his answer. "you're only thinking about the money?"
✧ sampo shakes his head, he grabs a hold of your hands while looking at you so sincerely it kind of scared you as he was always so... non-serious. "no, of course not. but just think about all the things i can buy for you...and me...food, flowers, more food, clothes and so much more! wouldn't you want all of that?"
✧ you think about it for a second and replied, "well although those are nice, wouldn't you much rather kiss me instead for $10? we can.. still buy something with $10, plus my kiss is unlike any other!"
✧ "yeah, i know." sampo snickers, upon his reply you narrow your eyes at him, your unamused face screamed "what do you mean by that?" in a menacing type of way. sampo quickly clears his throat before you could get any ideas (you had already gotten a few).
✧ "what i'm tryna say is that yes, i would rather kiss you for $10 but.. i think—" you immediately cut him off with a solemn face. "sh. i don't want to hear anymore of you." sampo can see that you're visibly upset at his answer. shit. he didn't mean to say the wrong thing.
✧ his grip on your hand tightened as he moved in closer to you. "no, wait babe i didn't mean that. i was just playin' i promise i would rather kiss you, your kisses are a one in a billion and i really don't care about the money and—" once again, you cut him off, but for a good reason this time.
✧ you giggle softly and shush him up with your index finger pressed up against his soft lips. "i know what you mean sampo, don't go on a big rant now you aren't in trouble." a clear sigh could be heard from sampo. "thank the stars.."
✧ " but babe! you haven't even answered my question." you gawk at sampo. "... oh well..."
✧ and now it was your turn to tease him, be prepared for a pestering and probing sampo!
卢卡 luka
✧ luka is quite stunned at first because for one, the question was out of nowhere, and two, WHAT DID HE DO THAT MADE YOU QUESTION HIM (you have a habit of asking him random questions out of nowhere)
✧ "did i do something wrong?!" is the first thing he says, he says it like it's urgent it caught you off-guard. you shake your head no and chuckle. "no, why? it's just a question don't worry."
✧ as you both were beside each other, sitting down on your couch, luka leans in closer to you where his nose is just barely touching yours. "well.." he whispers before giving you a long and tender kiss on your lips, it was soft and delicate, it wasn't intense or hot—just simple.
✧ "you, obviously." he begins as he pulled away slowly, his deep, sparkling blue eyes staring down at yours so softly and genuinely. "plus in my eyes you're the most prettiest person in the entire world, actually—no, in the universe!" the way he beamed at you as he spoke his words made your heart flutter. he was so sweet.
✧ luka's sweetness and innocence of a child (not quite literally) never failed to make you tear up, his charisma and optimistic personality pulled you in. but back to the moment. "awww luka you're too sweet ☹️" your cute lil pout made luka's head jump out of his chest and right back in, you were all too adorable.
✧ "oh you know it's nothing.. just stating the facts!" he chuckles, wrapping an arm around your neck and pulling you closer to him where your hips touched each other.
✧ luka rested his head on top of yours, his chest heaving up and down calmly. "wait, so you would kiss me even if you only got $10 other than $1000?" you asked, not bothering to move your body to face him.
✧ "yup! i would still kiss you for free too, money or not. if you still don't believe me.." luka lifted his head off yours as he faced you, you mirrored his actions and turned to face him. "hm?"
✧ luka began to kiss your face, first your cheeks, then it was your nose, then your forehead and finally, you're lips. this time he pressed his lips onto yours for longer as he used his left hand to cup your cheek. everything about this moment was wonderful.
✧ when he finally lets go, you both are left breathless and yet still yearning for more. "do you believe me now?"
银枝 argenti
✧ argenti is quick with his response, catching you off-guard. he was just standing out in the public (well more like posing to you and other people as he always looks like he's a model posing for his pictures) when you came running to him with your phone in hand, looking quite excited. which got him excited as well.
✧ but despite the silliness of the question he quickly answers your question with no hesitation. "why, you of course. i would kiss you any day, anytime and anywhere." he spoke with such sincerity and calmness it instantly made you fold. his soft and luminous grey eyes boring into yours.
✧ argenti moves in closer to you where his chest is looming over you. but even if he was taller than you, you were quite used to him doing that so you weren't afraid at all. "why do you ask?" you shake your head and smile up at him, happy with his answer. "nothing special!!"
✧ argenti stays silent for a couple of seconds before cupping your cheeks with his hands, your hands reaching to hold his with yours, the cold, hard metallic texture. you stare up at him, confused, but don't speak. you wait for him to do whatever he needed to do.
✧ before you knew it he had leaned down, his lips barely touching yours, his hooded eyes staring down at your lips. a kiss. his lips were so warm and soft, they did not part whatsoever, it was just soft, slow, gentle and sensual kiss. his lips were softly pressed against yours for a good hot second when he gradually pulled away, the tingling and exciting sensation still lingered on your lips.
✧ when both of your lips parted, it seemed like you two had forgotten that you were out in public, unaware of the many stares that were coming your way (i mean can you blame them? they are witnessing a very gorgeous couple passionately kissing. but not in that way.)
✧ after argenti pulled away and observed your face for any signs of discomfort the corners of his lips began to pull up after seeing you smile shyly. you were so adorable. "and that would be $1010." he whispered, gently pinching your cheeks.
✧ a cheerful and tender grin grows on your face at his words. but before you could utter a word or sound your eyes land upon a rose being held right in front of you by argenti. his signature rose.
✧ "a freshly picked flower for you, my rose." he breathed, his other hand pressed against his chest as he slightly bows. what a gentlemen he is. you smile in embarrassment before gratefully take his flower and slightly bowing before thanking him and smelling the rose. "thank you so much! it's breathtaking...."
✧ "just like you."
真理医生 dr. ratio
✧ "be completely and utterly serious with me with me right now." you added, using big words to really make him think about it. not like he ever does (he's always thinking logically).
✧ ratio sighs, yes, he gave you that sigh. "what? don't give me that sigh. just tell me your answer and then go on with your life again!" you said, doing your sigh this time. ratio is clearly and visibly thinking about his answer.
✧ "wow. are you really thinking about your answer?" you spoke, raising your brow in complete confusion. ratio shoots you a stare and shakes his head. "yes, really, but the answer is simple, you." although his answer was what you wanted to hear you wanted to know why. i mean, he was your boyfriend after all but still.
✧ "i thought you said you would let me go on with my life after answering your non-sensical question." he replied bluntly, cocking his head to the side. you mumbler under your breath as he was right. "yes well just one more thing, please?" and of course, he could never say no to you.
✧ "simply because i love you. i don't need to kiss anybody, especially a random stranger that is quote-on-quote, extremely attractive, for $1000 or more. even if somebody offered me a million i wouldn't take it, simply because they are not you. your kisses are different and have a different feel compared to theirs. and i am 100% positive that their lips are probably not the best unlike yours. not only that but it would be completely unreal for me to meet someone extremely attractive in the world as nobody is. but to me, you are the most wonderful and amazing person i have ever met. and not only that but—"
✧ you roll your eyes playfully before shushing him up with a finger pressed up against his lips. "okay okay i get it smarty pants" you giggled, removing your finger from his lips. ratio only grinned upon your words.
✧ "hm, well that's a good response. you're the best!" you beamed before kissing his temple and pulling away, heat rushing to your cheeks.
✧ as you were about to walk away you stopped in your tracks, causing him to stop what he was doing and looking your way. you turned around, facing him. "did you mean everything you said?" you questioned softly. the corners of ratio's lips curled up. "of course, i promise."
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gurugirl · 24 days
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The Handyman
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Summary: When you inherit your aunt's estate after she passes away, you hire Harry to fix up the old house but that's not all he winds up being good for.
A/N: This was requested! Also if you'd like to see early access content like this (plus more exclusive content) consider joining my Patreon! xoxo
Word Count: 10.9k
Warning: smut, mentions of a close relative dying, and tons of sweetness
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When you pulled up the long dirt driveway to the old estate you used to spend your summers at, it was as if you could feel your aunt Gayla’s presence all around you again. You could remember running through the fields and the trees and dawdling your afternoons away on the big wraparound porch with extra sweet lemonade and book after book.
Your aunt would have her old radio playing with records or cassette tapes, volume turned up so loud you’d be out climbing a tree a quarter mile off and could still hear the sounds of Credence Clearwater Revival or Stevie Nicks crooning over the distance. When the sun would begin to dip in the sky, oranges and pinks coloring in where it was bright blue just before, she’d change the record to Bill Withers or maybe even Louis Armstrong and she’d call you in by screaming at the top of her lungs that it was time to eat. But when you’d arrive she’d pull you into her arms and dance with you and tell you how important it was to read, write, dance, and love.
And everything she did and the way she lived her life had the biggest influence on yours these days. She had been your favorite person, next to your mother of course. But your mother died when you were 17 and your aunt filled in to help raise you when your dad was overwhelmed with the loss of his wife and trying to reign in a hormonal and emotional young woman. He tried his best but you knew it was lucky your aunt stepped up to help guide you into adulthood.
So it came as almost no surprise to anyone when your aunt passed and she left you everything she had. At the time you didn’t realize she had so much. At the reading of the will, it was just you and your father. The lawyer said you’d be inheriting her estate and every dime she had to her name. But when he read off the number, well, that part very much came as a surprise.
It was a life-changing number. And her old, huge house set on 16 acres in that old, small town was worth far more than you ever imagined it would be. You were advised to sell it at first. And you certainly considered it. What would you be needing with so much space all by yourself so far away from the big city you currently lived in? That money could just be piled on top of the already large sum she’d left you.
But the more you considered selling it the more you hated that idea. All the wonderful memories you had there, all that gorgeous space with expanses of marble and hardwood and tall trees and meadowland could be a sanctuary. It could be a place for you to live. To enjoy the large space, tall ceilings, and windows, the sunrises and sunsets… To play music loudly and dance in front of your oven as you baked muffins and write to your heart’s content.
It could certainly be far better than your studio apartment that cost nearly as much in rent as what you made working your ass off at the paper. You could move out of your rundown, mouse-infested building and fix up the old estate to your liking. You could quit your job and begin writing full-time like you always wanted. Your aunt’s house would be the perfect place to begin your new adventure. A refuge of peace. An oasis of your own to spark inspiration and creativity.
And so here you were, standing with the key in hand on the big front porch, old, rotted boards bending and cracking as you stepped up to the door to open it for the first time in years. When your aunt had fallen sick, she’d been transferred to the city to live with your father as she was unable to care for herself during the end of her life. You helped as often as possible. On Saturdays, you’d take her to the park to sit on the bench and watch the birds and the trees and you’d chat about the books you were reading and life. You did that every Saturday until she could no longer be moved from her bed. But you were always with her every Saturday, by her side and holding her hand until she had no more Saturdays left.
You felt a surge of emotion as you walked through the space. The old funky vintage chandelier that hung over the dining table was covered in cobwebs. When your aunt had it installed you helped her paint the little ceramic flowers in various shades of green and yellow. It had been all white at one time.
But it was the window that stretched along the wall that overlooked the back acreage that drew you closer. Pulling the dusty curtains aside, sunshine filled the room. Sheets covered the furniture that had all been left behind.
The whole place was yours. And you had a great feeling about this next phase in your life.
. . .
After a week of cleaning, working in the garden, peeling wallpaper down, having a new refrigerator and oven range installed as well as a washer and dryer for clothes, and attempting to tear out wooden boards from the front porch all by yourself, you’d hit a wall. It was clear you’d need help to get the house in tip-top shape.
Scouring the internet for handyman recommendations, you were left feeling quite hopeless. So you made a trip into town to talk to the owner of the hardware shop you met some days earlier when you were buying paint and tools. He had mentioned he knew someone who could help if you ever needed. A local man who took over his father’s business. You imagined there weren’t a lot of people willing to make the trip out to the small town and then even further out to the old house miles from the main road.
When you arrived, as you expected, the place was empty aside from Mr. George shuffling about behind the counter. When he spotted you his face lit up in a grin, “Miss Y/n! How can I help you this Thursday morning?”
“Hi, Mr. George. I was uh, wondering if I could get the number of that handyman you were telling me about? I think I’ve done all I can do by myself at this point. Some of the electricity needs rewiring, the boards in the porch are rotting away–“
“Say no more, my dear. I’ll call him right now,” he placed his hand over the phone receiver, “We’ll see if he can make some time today or tomorrow and if not, I’ll bet he can fit you in next week for a quote.”
“Next week?” You frowned.
“Well, he’s the only one who runs the business these days. His pop passed away a couple of months back so I’m assuming he might be a bit busy. Good guy, though. I wouldn’t recommend him if I didn’t think he’d do your aunt’s place justice.”
You nodded. That would have to be good enough you supposed. If not this week, next week you figured would be okay. Things were different in the small town than they were back in the big city. Life moved a bit slower and that was something you would just have to get used to.
Mr. George dialed the number he pulled up from his desktop Rolodex as you patiently waited to find out if the recommended handyman would be interested in helping you or not.
“Harry! My boy! How are you?” Mr. George spoke into the receive with a big smile.
“Yeah… I’m well too. Hey, look,” he glanced at you, “I’ve got a lovely young woman here who needs some help with her new house… yes. It’s that old mansion off Timbert. The one about a two miles from the main road… exactly. Gayla’s old place… It’s her niece, uh,” he cupped the receiver and looked at you with his brows raised as you spoke your name to him, “her name is Y/n.”
Seemed everyone in this town knew your aunt. You watched George scribble down something on a piece of scrap paper before sliding it over to you and began to make a little small talk with the man called Harry.
It was a number and the name of the company, Styles and Son. Mr. George pointed at the paper, and looked at you, “Write your number down here for me.”
You picked up the pen he used and wrote your number with your first and last name next to it, handing the paper back to him.
Mr. George tore off the section with your number and nodded at you, “Okay, ready for the number?”
He read it off to Harry before looking at you and holding out the receiver, “Wants to ask you a couple of questions.”
“Oh, sure,” you reached for the phone and stepped closer to the counter so you could put it to your ear, “Hello?”
“Hi. You’re Gayla’s niece?”
“Yes, sir. She recently passed and left the house to me and I wanted to fix it up a little.”
“My dad used to help Gayla out whenever she needed things done. I’ve never had the opportunity to see the inside but I’d like to come by maybe tomorrow afternoon when you have an hour or so to spare?”
“Sure! I’ll be home all day. Any time works for me.”
“Great. Let’s say around 2? I’ll give you a call before I head that way. George gave me your phone number, and make sure he gives you mine.”
“Oh yeah. He already did. I’ve got it written down here.”
“M’kay… well, I’ll see you tomorrow Y/n.”
“Sure! And thank you again!”
Mr. George took the phone from you and placed it into its cradle to hang up the call, “You know… Harry’s a single man. Bout your age. My wife says he’s a looker and I reckon you two might get along well.”
“Is that so?” You grinned at the store owner as you folded up Harry’s contact info and stuffed it into your pocket, “Appreciate this, Mr. George. So much. Truly.”
“Ahh, it’s nothin’. This small town is a close-knit community. We’re all here to help each other when we can.”
. . .
Instead of calling you, Harry texted when he was on his way over.
See you in half an hour. H
You smiled at the thought of finally getting some help in that big lonely house. Wiping the sweat from your forehead you climbed down the step ladder to freshen up a bit before Harry could arrive. You slid on a clean cotton dress, washed your hands and face, and then made some lemonade should he want anything to drink.
When Harry arrived you heard his truck clonking up the dirt driveway before you saw it. He’d been your first visitor so it was the first time you’d had the pleasure of hearing a vehicle driving toward your house (and didn’t it feel so weird to call it your house?). You watched out the window as dust kicked up from his tires. It was a big black truck. A decal on the side that read Styles and Son.
Walking onto your porch you waved to greet him as he stepped out, feet landing on the ground. His attire was simple. Jeans and a white t-shirt with a pocket at the front. Work boots. But what you couldn’t get over as he smiled and raised his big hand to wave back at you was how fit and broad he was. Tanned skin on his arms and tattoos up the length of one of them. Chestnut curls with touches of light brown and maybe blond hidden in the strands. He was tall and he was handsome.
“Y/n?” He smiled as he walked up the steps to your porch with his eyes on you. Green eyes.
“Yes! I’m Y/n,” you reached your hand out to him as he gripped it into his palm to shake.
“Nice to meet you. I’ve always wanted to check out Gayla’s house. Glad I’ve got the opportunity,” he looked down at the boards under his feet, “And first thing is,” he bent down and placed the heel of his palm into the wood, “this porch needs updating in a bad way.” He stood back up, soft green irises on you, “Feel how soft that is when you step over it?” He spoke as he demonstrated, pressing his foot into the floor of the porch.
You nodded, “Oh yeah. I already tore some of the boards out but I knew I couldn’t do all this on my own.”
Harry squinted at you and the way his eyes scraped down over your dress and to your feet then back up to your face had you tingling, “You tore out some boards on your own?” He nodded with an impressed look on his face.
Now you were feeling flustered. The sudden shift in temperature made it feel like your cotton panties were digging into your hips and your thighs too tight.
You laughed and shook your head, “Oh… I mean it wasn’t much. But…” you looked back up at him and watched as a lopsided smile took over his face, complete with a dimple, “You wanna come inside? See the place?”
“Absolutely.”
You pushed the front door in and let Harry pass through into the space. You watched him look all around and then walk toward the big front window and slide his hand over the wood frame, “Beautiful woodwork here,” he looked up toward the ceiling and then along the wall toward the archway into the dining area, “It looks like it’s probably throughout the house. We’ll be sure to keep this original,” he looked at you suddenly, “Unless you wanted to completely change all this. It’s up to you but I would suggest trying to maintain the existing features.”
“I would love to keep it original if possible. So… are you saying you’ll do this for me?”
Harry chuckled and ran his index finger under his nose, “Soon as I saw the place as I drove up the path to get here had my heart set on it. Of course, we’ll need to talk numbers and come to an agreement but I’m ready to start as soon as possible. What’s the electricity situation? Original too?” He looked up at the light sconce on the wall.
“I think it’s all original. Everything. Most likely all needs overhauled to bring it up to code. So… you don’t have other jobs you are committed to right now? Thought you were the only one?”
Harry raised his brows and looked back at you, “Hired a helper a couple weeks back. He can do all the odd jobs for me while I focus on this. Honestly, Y/n,” you scorched at the way he said your name so casually, “There ain’t tons of work around here. I usually have one or two small jobs a day. Garbage disposal repair, sodding a yard, shingle repair… we do bigger jobs too like tree stump removal, burst pipes, and things like that. One-offs usually.”
“Tree stump removal… you do all that?”
He nodded, “Yep. I do it all. Got the equipment from when my father was running the business. My dad and I were the only ones in town to do all this kind of stuff so we learned how to do just about everything.”
You showed Harry around the rest of the house and described what you thought you might want done. But watching Harry slide his hands over your baseboards and knock at the walls as he talked about what he’d do… you smiled and agreed with everything he said.
“I do want the wallpaper out, though. It’s a little too dated for my taste,” you ran your finger over the silk flower design wall covering and Harry put his palm over the wall and nodded, “We could look at other wallpaper if you wanted. Or were you just thinking paint?”
You bit your lip and leaned into the wainscoting, “Maybe a new wallpaper? What do you think is better?”
Harry mimicked your pose, placing his hip on the white wainscoting, and faced you, “There are some really high-quality wallpapers out there. In any pattern you can think of. Can also get them custom-made if you had the money for it. I’d get the wallpaper if I were you.”
You nodded, “I’ll be honest, Harry, my aunt left me a good bit of money and I’d like to restore the place with really nice quality things and finishes. Want it to look as beautiful here as it did the day it was built. I’m not too worried about how much it’ll all cost. Within reason of course.”
Harry pushed himself from the wall and clasped his hands together behind his back, “I’m really sorry for your loss by the way. Was a shock to everyone when we found out she passed.”
You nodded, “Yeah. I always thought she’d live forever. Spent so many summers here with her, climbing trees and dancing… just feels so weird that she’s gone now,” a small smile covered your face, “But also, I’m sorry to hear about your dad too. His recent passing.”
The smile fell from Harry’s face, “Did George tell you he passed?”
“He did. I’m sorry if bringing that up wasn’t–“
“No, it’s fine. I was about to tell you anyway. Hence the name of the business, Styles and Son. I’m the son part of it,” he grinned, “But yeah. He died and I took over the business. It’s been a struggle. I miss him but I think he’d be really pleased that I was getting the chance to fix this old place up.”
You offered Harry some lemonade and you both sat on the back porch together as you discussed what you wanted done first with the house. Of course, Harry already had a solid timeline in mind, he’d start with the electrical wiring and the rotten boards on the porch and make sure everything was up to code and safe before getting to the more superficial parts of the job. The garden and landscaping would come last.
Everything flowed so nicely with Harry. He was easy to talk to and you trusted that he knew what he was doing. And it didn’t hurt that his voice was soothing and deep and slow. You could listen to him talk about solid hardwood versus engineered hardwood all day long if he let you.
“Well, I’ll be heading out now I guess. Be back first thing in the morning and start on this porch.”
You walked him to his big truck and shook his hand again, thanking him for taking the job and feeling a bit overwhelmed and emotional at everything.
Overwhelmed because Harry was so genuinely kind and you knew immediately you could trust him completely. Which just added to his charm and sex appeal. You really tried to push down the fact that he was so stunningly attractive because that wasn’t going to do you any good. And even though Mr. George told you he was single, you couldn’t imagine that was true. Someone as yummy-looking and kind-hearted as Harry? There was no way he wasn’t at least seeing someone.
But you were also emotional because you were finally going to get to see your aunt Gayla’s house restored to its original glory. It was going to be a real labor of love but it felt so good to be doing it. You had never felt so sure you were on the right path in life until that day. Until Harry arrived with his big truck and assured you that you’d get everything you wanted and that it would end up being even better than before.
And for the first time since you moved into that old house, you sat down and began to write. You’d gotten nearly ten thousand words written and were awake well into the wee hours of the morning typing away with the sudden inspiration you’d gotten. You fell asleep with your laptop next to you when you couldn’t hold your eyes open any longer.
You were woken to the sound of pounding and clanking and creaking which had you startled as you sat up in your bed and looked around your bedroom. The sun filled the space with light and you picked up your cellphone to note the time and saw a missed call from Harry.
Wrapping your robe around yourself you ran down the stairs all frazzled and rushed and burst onto the front porch, tripping over a stack of fresh boards and landing on your knees and palms like an idiot.
“Hey… hey…” you heard Harry’s deep voice from behind you as he slid his hands under your arms to help you up, “You okay?”
“Oh my god…” you croaked out the first words of the day from your throat, “I just woke up and realized you were here and… Sorry!”
He turned you to face him and looked down over your knees and lifted your palms upward to inspect, “Let’s get you cleaned up. Took quite the spill there. Sorry, I shouldn’t have stacked those boards right there.”
You felt your heart calm as he led you into your kitchen. He was so gentle with you, which for some reason you hadn’t expected. You knew he was kind but this seemed very much outside of the scope of his job description, “No, it’s fine! It’s me. I’d probably trip over the boards no matter where you had them stacked. I’m a bit of a nervous nelly. And when I woke up I just… I was startled. Fell asleep late and didn’t set an alarm…”
Harry grinned at you as you ran your faucet and put your hands under it, “It’s fine. No need to rush or get all riled up. I got here a bit early and when you didn’t answer I just figured I’d start on the porch. Think I’ll replace your doorbell as well. It’s not working either.”
You dried your hands and smiled at Harry, “I’ll get you a key before you leave today. In case I’m not here or I’m sleeping again. Sorry… I just had this burst of inspiration last night and typed until I passed out. It’s…”
“You’re fine,” you watched his eyes drop down to your torso and then bounce back up quickly to your face.
When you looked down at yourself you realized your robe was twisted and while all your bits were covered, they were barely covered.
“Jesus fucking Christ… I’m sorry, Harry. I’m a mess…” you pulled the material into place and adjusted the robe.
Harry put his hands at the tops of your arms, “Hey… you’re fine. Take a breath. It’s a beautiful morning and the birds are singing, and just look at this view…” he motioned toward your window where you could see trees and lush green grass stretch along the front of the house, “Now… Do you have some alcohol to clean up the cuts on your knees?”
You sighed and nodded, “Yeah. I’ll get it. You don’t have to do all this. I promise I’m fine. Just need to kind of wake up I think.”
Harry nodded, “Okay. I’ll get back to work out there. Gonna be some loud hammering and noises for a while.”
You cleaned yourself up and put actual clothes on before making coffee and bringing a hot mug out to Harry on a tray. This time, you carefully placed your steps around the boards and scanned the porch to see open spaces and nails in a tin next to fresh boards.
Harry was crouched along the railing and prying a board from its spot when he looked up at you.
“Coffee? Wasn’t sure if you take it with sugar or cream… Or maybe you just want tea?” You placed the tray down as he stood up.
“That’s really nice of you. Thank you. I would love some coffee. Black is fine.”
He took the mug by its handle and brought it up to his lips to take a sip.
“And if you’re hungry I could make you something?” You watched him gulp down the hot liquid.
Shaking his head he grinned at you, “Maybe lunch in a few hours. I ate breakfast already. But you don’t need to go out of your way to make anything. I can go into town for a sandwich, which is what I usually do.”
“Oh no. I’ll make you something for lunch! I insist! I love the company anyway. That way you can kind of relax instead of driving back and forth just to eat. Unless you want to get away for a bit. I mean…” you started rambling. You couldn’t help yourself. Harry’s biceps were on full display as he lifted the mug up to his mouth again and you could just feel your own mouthwatering at the sight. You hadn’t seen a man so attractive in a long time. All the city guys you dated were nice enough… but then there was Harry. Tall with broad shoulders and lean muscle all over, deep pink lips and light green eyes… and dimples… and he was handy? God, you weren’t sure how long you could go before you started to become obvious about how much you enjoyed letting your irises rove over his frame. That is if it wasn’t already obvious.
He watched you go on and on about lunch and then offer up other suggestions with a small smile on his face until you stopped when you realized you were yammering, “Sorry.”
“You okay?” He grinned. He knew you were fine. But he did wonder if you were flustered because of him or if that was how you just were.
“I’m fine. Sorry. Get kind of long-winded sometimes. I’ll let you get to it. Um… if you do want me to make you lunch just let me know. And uh…” you paused and then realized you were about to start yapping again, “I’ll get out of your hair.”
“Y/n,” Harry’s deep voice was soft as he spoke your name and you turned to look back at him, “Take a breath. It’s okay. We’ll have lunch together in a few hours. Yeah?”
You puffed out a breathy laugh and nodded before heading back inside with the tray that had sugar and milk atop.
You hadn’t considered it until then. Until you were placing the small crystal lid back onto the sugar bowl and putting the milk back into the refrigerator that your sudden burst of inspiration for the story you were working on was thanks to your handsome handyman. It also felt really good to have someone else there with you. Not that you didn’t feel safe there alone, but just having another presence near you was comforting.
And when you began to make up a lunch, something you hoped he’d like (you had to stop yourself from asking him if he’d want cucumbers and white cheese on his sandwich and just trust that it would be fine) you couldn’t help but peek out your window at him as he pounded his hammer down and wiped the sweat from his brow. His shirt was a bit damp as the sun was rising in the sky and the temperature with it.
Which then reminded you to plug in a fan so he could cool off while he ate with you. You set up the kitchen table and plugged in a fan to have it on for him as you both ate your sandwiches. As well as iced lemonade and chopped cherry tomatoes with basil and olive oil.
It was noon on the dot when you opened the door and poked your head out, “Lunch is ready if you’re hungry.”
Harry placed his hammer down and pushed himself up to stand as he nodded, “Thank you. Mind if I use the bathroom before?”
“Harry, you can use anything you want in the house. Feel free to come inside when you please. You don’t have to ask.”
“Well, thank you, Y/n. I appreciate it.”
You felt ridiculous as you paced your kitchen in wait for Harry to come in so you two could begin. The silly thoughts you had in your head about him had your heart lobbing around in your chest a bit too fast. You could just imagine (in the deepest little fantasy spot in your brain) that he’d take one bite of your sandwich and be so overcome by you that he’d have the sudden urge to lift you onto the table, push your dress up, and take you right there, knocking the lemonade down and forgetting all about the cherry tomatoes.
“Wow. This looks excellent. And you’re joining me?” He smiled as he stepped into the kitchen, his eyes on the table.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” you shrugged as you pulled a chair out for him, just in the path of the fan, “And if it’s okay, though I could have some with you. Keep you company. Unless I’m annoying you…”
Harry laughed and shook his head as he took his seat, “You’re the furthest thing from annoying, Y/n. In fact, I quite like talking to you. Sit,” he gestured at the spot where you’d placed your own plate with the sandwich. “The fan is a nice touch too. See, you’re just about the sweetest person I’ve ever worked for and it’s only been a few hours.”
You felt the skin on your cheeks heat up as you sat down in the wooden chair and looked at Harry. You really really tried not to look at him like that. But you could feel it oozing out of you as you batted your lashes and tilted your head down, your eyes still on him. You couldn’t help it!
And he saw it clear as day too. Grinning at you he took the glass of lemonade and gulped down about half as he watched you blink your eyes and then remove your gaze from his down to your plate.
“Thank you, Y/n,” he said as he placed the glass down and picked up his sandwich.
“You’re welcome, Harry.”
. . .
Harry didn’t take days off. He was at your house at 8 am sharp every morning and every day you were sure to make him a big lunch and chat with him a bit. But every day you fell further and further into a little spiral of want and lust. It was ridiculous but he wasn’t doing anything to dampen the way you felt.
Like after one lunch, he took his thumb and wiped the mustard from the edge of your mouth so nonchalantly you felt your knees give out and he had to help steady you. But you didn’t miss his smirk. Like he knew just what he was doing.
Or the time when you were walking from your bathroom to your kitchen after a shower and he’d gone out to buy supplies so you thought you were alone but instead walked past the huge window in only your underwear and bra as you were talking to yourself. Yapping away about whatever in your panties as you turned to the sink to wash some dishes but then yelped when you saw him standing there looking in, an expression of surprise on his face.
You had never run so fast in your life up to your room to put something on. And you should have known better. What was wrong with you? Of course, you were quite absent-minded at times, but that was something on another level.
But then it happened again that he saw you in only your skivvies as you traipsed to your bathroom and had forgotten that he was rewiring the second-floor hallway lights.
“Hey, sweetheart… just wanted to remind you that I’m here,” his voice startled you and you balked as you apologized and shut the bathroom door with a loud slam.
“Sorry, Harry!” You apologized again with your heart rapidly thudding behind your ribcage.
You could hear his voice through the bathroom door, “Don’t need to apologize. Doesn’t offend me. Just wanted to remind you I was here is all – in case you weren’t keen on me seeing you in your knickers.”
And Harry was like that. So gentle and thoughtful and there was the tiniest bit of flirtatiousness there too. Which really kept you on your toes around him. Made you feel all hot and gooey. Maybe if he didn’t grin at you the way he did or if he didn’t wipe mustard from your lips or call you sweetheart or compliment you as often you wouldn’t feel that tension there all the time.
But he did and so you did.
Which then led to you working up the nerve to start asking him to say for dinner. He’d sit in your kitchen after using your shower to clean up and watch (you insisted he didn’t help) as you made something for the both of you to eat.
At first, he didn’t stay every evening for dinner because he wanted to get home to clean up and you didn’t want to push and make it seem like you were needy for his company.
But soon, after suggesting he just use your shower, it was every night, and he began to bring a change of clothes so he could clean up before eating. And it felt like you were in some kind of bizarre relationship. Or, that’s what you pretended in your mind anyway. And it was fodder for your writing so you played into the fantasy a little bit.
Of course, there were also all the times you caught him with his shirt off. By the time he began working inside the house summer was in full swing and the place had no central air conditioning so it could get rather hot inside.
And it wasn’t just that you caught him with his shirt off… it was that he caught you staring while he was sans shirt, a sheen of sweat on his chest and at the nape of his neck, muscles flexing and tensing as he labored to make your house gorgeous and well-functioning.
Harry Styles was sexy. He was kind. He was charming and funny. He was smart. And you wanted him. Wanted him in a bad way.
And the days and weeks that drew on that feeling and that lust did not falter. No, it only widened and grew strong, steady thick roots into the ground and became fortified and strengthened with every little bit of contact you had with him. You wanted him so badly you could taste it. Feel it. Smell it.
“Let me get it!” He scoffed at you as he pulled the lid from the pot that was boiling over while you were chopping the tomatoes. You told him to stay seated because you wanted him to rest, that you’d get the boiling pot. He’d worked so hard that day (as he always did) and you knew he must be tired. But he dipped the spoon into the bubbling water and turned down the burner to lower the heat for you.
“I can help, Y/n. I know you’re just being sweet cause you think I’m all tuckered but I don’t mind. Really.”
You smiled as you sliced into the tomato, “Okay. I just want to make sure you’re not working extra. You work so hard every day and I feel like this is the least I can do for you.”
Harry pushed a soft laugh out through his nose as he placed the lid back onto the pot, “The least you could do is pay me for my work. And that you already do. This,” he gestured around the kitchen, “Is above and beyond. Not that I’m complaining.”
“Well, I just… I feel like we’re friends now and feels strange to send you home after,” you glanced at him to see that he was leaning his hip into the counter watching you in that way that he often looked at you. The one that made your skin sizzle.
When he didn’t respond you glanced at him again, “There’s a bottle of wine if you want to share? I think it’ll go really nicely with this dish.”
Harry pursed his lips and nodded, “Trying to get me drunk, sweetheart?”
You chuckled in surprise and shook your head, “Of course not!” Placing the knife down you turned to him, “I was only just suggesting it if you want. I mean… you don’t have to. I didn’t think a glass would be all that bad–“
“I’m teasing. It’s okay. I’ll have some wine with you,” he laughed at the way you suddenly bristled, “Where’s the wine opener? I’ll pour us both a glass.”
The wine turned out to be the perfect accompaniment for the pasta dish you’d made. But you knew it would be. In fact, you’d gone into town the night before to the olive oil and wine shop and selected the wine for that exact purpose after asking the owner what she thought. You weren’t sure if he’d like wine or not but you liked wine and it was a really nice bottle. Which you could afford now that you had a bit of money to your name.
And Harry agreed it was good as he poured you both another glass after you’d both finished your plates.
“So what are you writing anyway?” Harry asked as he leaned back in his chair and set his eyes on you.
“It’s a romance. You wouldn’t be into it I’m sure,” you shrugged as you sipped your wine.
“Why are you so sure I wouldn’t be into it? I love romance.”
“Oh. I guess men aren’t usually my target audience or prospective target audience… I haven’t actually published anything. Sorry… I shouldn’t assume I guess.”
“Tell me what it’s about.”
You cleared your throat and shook your head, “Oh… it’s not done. I’m kind of too bashful to talk about it just yet.”
Harry leaned his elbows onto the table and kept his gaze on you, “Oh come on… Tell me. I won’t judge. I want to know what kind of story you’ve been working on. And then I’ll tell you a secret of my own. How’s that sound?”
You sat your glass of wine down and licked your lips as you let your pupils take in his pretty lips, “Uh… fine…” you sighed and smiled. You wouldn’t tell him the whole thing but perhaps you could just make it brief. “It’s about a woman who takes on a new adventure in life and she meets a man unexpectedly and he helps her kind of navigate her new life… uh… like they have this unspoken connection and feel quite comfortable with one another off the bat. And it leads to a whirlwind romance that ends happily ever after.”
Harry tilted his head to the side and stitched his brows together, “Y/n…” Harry spoke your name as if he were about to scold you, “Give me some detail. What kind of new adventure is this woman taking?”
You looked up at the ceiling and felt your neck heat up. If you told him the premise he’d figure out you were basically writing a story that was a fantasy version of what you and Harry were doing.
But you didn’t want to lie and you could just tell him to drop it but you didn’t want to do that either. So you gulped down the saliva in your throat and laughed as you looked at him, “She inherits a gorgeous old house from a family member with all the money she’d need to hire a man to help her restore the place.”
The pleased look on his face had you looking away from him and down at your empty plate in full embarrassment.
“I see. So you’ve had some real-life inspiration since moving in here then.”
You nodded, a small laugh falling from your lips, “Yeah.”
“And this man helping her restore the old house? He’s the one she has her whirlwind, happy-ending romance with?”
You put your hands over your face, “Oh my god. I mean… yes. It’s just inspiration, though… like it wasn’t–“
Your words were cut off when you heard his chair scrape over the wooden floors and felt his hand at your back, “You don’t need to explain yourself. It’s just a story. Wanna hear my secret now? Level out the playing field a bit here.”
You pulled your hands away from your face and looked at him. He was sitting right next to you, so close you could see the pores on his nose as he offered you a dimpled grin. His hand gently rubbed at your back.
“Level out the playing field?”
His soft grin deepened as he slid his pupils down to your lips, “Yeah. You told me something that’s kind of a secret. If you want me to tell you a secret I will… kind of make it even.”
You swallowed with a nod as he moved his eyes over the expanse of your face and it felt like warmth seeping into your skin.
“See… So here’s the thing…” he paused to make sure you were paying attention, “I’ve been working for this insanely sweet-as-pie woman for a couple of months now. Just falling in love with every corner of the house that I touch… getting fed fruit and coffee every morning, sandwiches in the afternoon with lemonade and a fan to help cool me down, and then lately it’s spread into dinner… just me and her eating together in her kitchen, talking about nothing and everything as the sun goes down and then I go home at night alone and find myself unable to stop thinking about her and the way she laughs and the way I catch her staring at me when I’ve sweat through my shirt…”
You were holding your breath as he spoke and it was making your head fuzzy and your heart thud and your skin light up as he slowly worked his hand up to the back of your neck, fingers grazing the skin… it felt like you were watching a movie play out before you. Like it wasn’t real.
“And I think to myself… what if she feels the same way about me that I feel about her? Ya know? I mean I’ve seen the way she looks at me. That can’t be an accident. And she’s even started to ask me to stay even later after dinner to have dessert and even though my stomach is always stuffed full of the food she’s fed me and I couldn’t imagine eating another thing I’m always tempted to stay a little longer with her. Just to see where it goes,” the pad of his finger worked up your neck as you turned your gaze down to your hand on the table, “To find out if her dessert is just as tasty as everything else she’s offered me. And of course, I have no doubt that it would be.”
You stayed quiet. You couldn’t believe he’d just said all that. Like he was reading your story and knew what you wanted to happen next. Slowly you brought your gaze back to his and spoke shakily, “Harry…”
“You want me to stay for dessert tonight, Y/n?” You could feel the brush of his thumb along one side of your throat and the press of the pads of his fingers gently on the other side, palm flat against the back of your neck. And that question. It meant more than what he said and you both knew it.
“Yes. If you want,” you swallowed and kept your eyes on his face as he lowered his gaze to your mouth again. His hand at the back of your neck tensed and you could feel him pulling at you, just the last few inches needed to brush his lips against yours in a tentative move, allowing you to breach the space completely, moving in and pressing your mouth firmly against his.
And it was everything. Warm and soft and wet and then he inhaled sharply and opened his mouth to paint his tongue over your lips and you responded in kind, using your tongue against his and you felt his free hand pull at your hip. You smoothed your hands up his strong arms and to his shoulders and your heart felt full and light all at the same time.
When you felt the fine hairs at the nape of his neck under your fingers he shifted and pulled at you, both hands gripping your hips and bringing you up out of your chair and placing your bottom on the sturdy wood of the kitchen table, the plates pushed to the side and your nearly empty glass of wine wobbled in its spot as he kept his mouth over yours and he fit himself between your legs.
“Always wearing pretty skirts and dresses for me, aren’t you?” His lips traveled down your jaw and pressed over the skin on your pulse point, “Been teasing me this whole time…” slow pecks down to your clavicle and then back up the other side of your neck as he planted his palms flat onto the table next to your thighs, “Just know you wanted me to see you in your panties all those times… acted all innocent like you didn’t know you were giving me a show…”
You gasped when you felt his teeth gently scrap at your jaw before pushing plush pink lips over the same spot, “Harry…” you breathed out his name.
“Mmm… love how you say my name too,” he spoke as he moved his mouth back over yours and it was game over. Teeth and tongues, and wet lips with moans as he slid a thumb under the hem of your dress to glide up your thigh. He pressed himself in further, making you lay back on the table, your saltshaker and napkin holder tipping over as he ran his hands up your sides.
“Is this what you wanted? All this time, Y/n?”
You moaned as he began to pepper his kisses down your neck once again, your body lighting up with every touch and whisper into your skin.
“Yes…”
“Yeah,” he looked up at you with his hands firm around your waist before he moved them down to push at your skirt, shoving the material up your thighs, “And what about this? Is this what you want too?”
You pushed yourself up by your elbows and nodded, “Yeah…”
Harry grinned as his fingers found your panties and he tucked his middle fingers into the band, “Wanna give me my dessert now?”
His light jade eyes were sparkling as he waited for your nod of approval, the small yes you peeped out had him tearing your panties down your legs, left to drape off your left foot as he pushed your thighs apart and moaned, “It’s the only dessert I’ve wanted since you first started offering. Smells so good too,” he dropped his mouth to the inside of your plush thigh and ran his big palms upward on the underside of your thighs to press your legs back and you gurgled a moan as you watched him dip down and tongue at your pussy, his wet muscle slicking upward from your entrance to your clit and then repeated, and repeated, over and over as he kept his eyes on yours until you were so slick he was barely making contact with your skin… your arousal had coated your pussy and his tongue in a thick layer.
“Fuck me… sweetheart… you’re gonna give me a toothache with all this sweet juice…” he spoke mindlessly as he lapped at you. He brought a hand down to your pussy, running his fingers through your crease as he pressed his tongue to your clit and kissed it, bringing it delicately into his mouth with a gentle slurp.
“Ahh! Harry!” You reached down to pull at his hair as your back arched up and your head fell back into the wood.
The moment Harry felt your grip on his hair he spread your pussy with his fingers and drove a digit inside, curling it in and brushing against the spot you loved to focus on when you fingered yourself, making your body shiver.
Your table was rattling from the movements you were making, the lewd act causing the wooden legs to shift and give slightly as Harry ate your pussy and moaned at your taste.
“Gonna let me have some every night now?” His words came out watery, and slurred as he continued working to get you off, “Gonna let me take care of you the way you’ve been taking care of me?”
You cried out in a gurgle when you felt another finger press inside as he flattened his tongue over your pussy, “Yes!”
Harry grinned into your pussy. Seemed all you could say at that point was a combination of yes and Harry. He loved how you were responding to him. Like it was all you ever wanted.
When he felt you roll your hips up and grind into his mouth he pressed your thigh down and dug in harder, flicking his eyes up at you from time to time, watching the way your chest rose and fell heavy, how your lips were dropped wide open with your eyes closed.
“Y’shaking so hard, sweetheart. You can come if you need to,” he slid his fingers into the last knuckle and back out as he spoke, lips grazing your wet clit as he did so, “You’ve been so good to me, you deserve a treat too…”
Your brain was in a fog, a haze that made it hard to hear or make sense of his words as your orgasm tiptoed its way through your tummy and down into your core, slowly sliding its way through your organs until it burst out of you and your limbs stiffened as you pressed Harry’s face into your pussy and moaned his name so loudly Harry figured it was a good thing you didn’t have any neighbors close by to hear what could sound like someone being attacked.
But in a way, you were being attacked. Harry’s lips and his tongue and his fingers ravaged you through your orgasm, never letting up or stopping until you gasped and pushed at him as you sat up with wet lips, burning cheeks, and dark eyes, “Oh god, Harry!”
The dirty smirk on his face was pure sex as he pulled his fingers out of your sticky pussy and slid you from the table, making you wrap your legs around his waist as he carried you to your room, his mouth on yours.
You began to squeak in protest as he lifted you and started up the stairs and you were certain it was too much weight or that he’d drop you but he was solid and strong and moved with ease, holding you tight under your bottom with one hand and his other at your mid back until he laid you on your bed with a bounce.
Harry began to pull his jeans down his strong legs and you watched as he undressed. It was the first time you’d seen his bottom half but just as his chest and shoulders and abs did not disappoint, neither did his masculine, well-muscled thighs and buttocks. The man was in incredible shape, thanks to good genes and hard manual labor you assumed.
When Harry peeled his shirt off over his head, the curls were pushed upward and he was left standing in your bedroom looking like a man ready to ransack your body with wild hair, tight boxer briefs hiding an erection that looked quite sizable.
Silently he kneed onto the bed between your legs and pushed your dress out of the way, “Let me see you, sweetheart. Is that okay?”
You helped him bring the dress off over your head and immediately reached up to unpluck your bra, the clasp at the front that once undone had your tits bursting out.
“Holy, fuck…” Harry dove down to your breasts, lapping and squeezing at each one and you placed your fingers back into his hair as if it were their new home. The length was perfect to grip onto.
He pushed himself up as he cupped your tits together and kept his eyes on your flesh and nipples with mouth dropped open, “Goddamn, sweetheart…” He dipped down again, wetting the skin all around your breasts with his lips and tongue until you bucked upward and your wet pussy kissed his belly button.
Popping off from your nipple he looked down at you underneath his large frame and smoothed his hands down your sides and over your tummy then to your hips. He thumbed at your clit and looked up at you, not an ounce of humor on his face, “I can eat your pussy all night. Want my mouth again?” He licked his lips.
“Want to feel it, Harry…” you breathed out.
“Want to feel my mouth again?”
You moaned and slid your palm down his chest and felt the bit of hair on his pecs tickle your skin, “Your cock.”
“Is that right? Sweetheart wants her handyman to stuff her full tonight?” Now you could see the small smirk on his face as he looked at your tits and then back up to your eyes.
“I want you to stuff me full, Harry. I want to feel it.”
Harry wet his lips again as he moaned at your words and tore his boxer briefs down his thighs and to the floor.
He sat back onto his haunches, eyes on yours as he held himself at his base. His thick ruddy tip smooth and ready to pierce into your cunt had you groaning, “Please.”
“You wanna be my girl, Y/n? Be mine? Cause I don’t fuck unless I know I can keep coming back. I don’t do casual, sweetheart.”
You shook your head, “I don’t either. I’ll be yours. Your girl.”
“You sure? You want to date a small-town handyman, make me dinner every night, and get fucked into this soft bed until you’re passed out?”
“Oh my god, Harry,” you moaned and nodded, “Yes. Please…”
Harry scooted in toward you, and his massive cock was just throbbing before your eyes. That thing was going to do some damage to you but you would happily receive it. Take it every night like he said, looked forward to feeling how much he’d fill you up and how deep he’d get, how much it’d ache when he pounded into you.
His hand slid behind your neck, fingers wrapping around the back side as he hovered over you, “Pussy’s so little, sweetheart. Might need to hold on at first okay?”
The dimple popping into his cheek told you he was playing with you. And while, yes, he was quite large, that bulbous tip and thick shaft would definitely be felt entering you, there was no question it’d tuck nicely into your slippery walls.
You gripped his biceps as you kept your eyes focused on his. He glided his fat tip through your pussylips with the slushy wet sound of your arousal coating his cock, drenching his leaking slit until he was sticking the crown at your opening, his lips parted as he pressed into your muscle and penetrated you slowly.
“Mmm… fuck me, sweetheart,” his voice was hiked up a notch in a whine as he clenched his teeth upon entry, “Y’mine now? Yeah?”
You nodded and whimpered, “Harry… oh god I’m yours…”
Harry nodded with you, his eyes focused on your face as he opened you up, and spread you apart inch by inch. When he’d gotten in halfway he reared himself back, that wide tip sliding out of your cunt just before he pressed himself back in, nudging in deeper. The intrusion was all-consuming. Harry’s hard cock was long and thick. But of course, it was. A man like him with a body like that… But it was his demeanor that had tipped you off at the beginning that he had a big dick. That personality that oozed with natural confidence.
“Oh, my fuck!” You wailed as he drove into you again, this time with a bit of force that had his hips grinding into yours.
“Yeah? It’s big in there isn’t it? Need me to be gentle?”
You could just see it in his eyes. He did not want to be gentle. The man above you, fucking into you was holding himself back. He was taking it easy for your sake. But you wanted him to ruin you. Wanted your pussy wrecked by that thick cock, needed to let him have his way with your body so he could get off.
“No… fuck me like you want. Harry…” you whimpered his name as you cupped his jaw, stubble scraping your palm as he slowly thrust into you, “Make me yours. Show me how you do it.” You wanted to feel his strength. Wanted to know what it felt like to have him completely destroy your pussy.
Harry let out a deep groan then hissed as he ground into your cunt, his cock grazing that achy spot deep inside that you knew was gonna be bruised once he was done with you, “Don’t want to hurt your cute little pussy, Y/n. Can already feel I’m in as deep as I can go.”
“Harry, make me yours. Please.”
“Fuck…” he gritted out as he adjusted his knee placement, lifting himself with his thighs and readying his position to rail into you like you wanted. He pulled your hands up and placed your palms onto his lats as he leaned over you, “Hold on here. Tell me to stop if it’s too much.”
You gripped your fingers into the muscle of his back and felt him flexing as he drew his long cock back and bucked in with one harsh thrust. The wind nearly knocked from your lungs as he did it again. He was still taking it easy. Long heavy strokes into your guts, hips slapping into yours in thuds until he got into a rhythm and your high-pitched moans told him you were loving it.
Soon your bed was loudly creaking, the mattress springs bouncing heavy and his balls were whacking into your bum. Wet patting of skin colliding and heavy pants filled the room.
“Like this?” He gritted as his pelvis repeatedly smashed into your clit filling your veins with damp mushy heat as your pussy clamped over him.
“Fffffuuu…” you cried out. Not a word but an answer. You did like it. Every time he filled you to the brim with his fat cock and your pussy parted for him, spreading apart to accommodate his hefty girth it brought you closer and closer to the precipice.
Harry choked out a moan when he felt his own orgasm edge toward the brink slowly. The way you gripped around him, the perfect warm and wet hole attached to the sweetest thing he’d ever met made his heart thrash in his chest harshly.
He couldn’t believe that he was getting to fuck you. That you promised to be his. That things had worked out the way they had. Because he’d started falling for you since day one. He had been impressed that you wanted to salvage the old house and to him, that meant you were already special. A city girl with a heart of gold who didn’t mind getting her hands dirty. And when you told him you ripped out some of the rotted boards from the porch on your own his cock twitched in his pants. The image in his mind of you doing that was hot.
And as the days and weeks went on he learned more about you and he became obsessed with making everything in the house just perfect for you. He often daydreamed of living in it with you. Getting to see you every day after work with a kid or two running around. While it was too early to think about all that, he couldn’t help it. Harry was a sincere and deeply emotional man who prized deep connections and love over everything. He’d never been able to do casual.
He was brought back to the moment when your face began to screw up in pleasure and your punched breaths began to grow into loud moans with every snap of his hips.
You, on the other hand, were thinking of nothing but that big cock sliding through your insides and ramming into your depths, your tummy aching at the stretch and the way he filled you so completely. Your brain was empty as he sliced through you, fucking you down into your soft blankets as his chest and arms and shoulders tensed.
“Ooohh, sweetheart… like that yeah? That what you need? Right there?”
Your arousal had dripped from your hole and drenched your ass and the blanket under you, your gushy wetness slopped out with every push of his cock into your pussy.
Harry could feel your thighs quivering and shaking as you started to arch into him, loud bursts of moans belted from your lungs on each plunge.
Harry was losing his mind at the noises you were making and how good you felt squeezing around him, “Gonna have to move myself in here so I can have you like this every day… look at you taking me so well… fucking creaming all over me…” his string of consciousness continued as he railed into you deeply and you felt your insides snap suddenly, your orgasm erasing all working thoughts from your brain.
“Yes! Fuuuuck! Yes! I need you!”
“Need you too, Y/n. I fucking need you baby… come all over me, show me how good that is… fuck… fuck…” Harry clenched his jaw as you squelched around him, your slippery hole clenching so hard you nearly pushed him out but he was stronger as he continued to pound into you, bringing you through your ecstasy until he couldn’t go another moment without coming.
He began unloading into you, heavy, thick pumps of come filled your insides as he coughed out a groan and stilled his hips with your pussy milking him, pussy fluttering and squeezing every drop from his long shaft. You’d both lost your good senses in that moment. No thought about what was responsible or reasonable, it was only about how good it felt to be connected, new lovers enjoying one another and not giving a damn about the consequences.
Harry’s mouth pressed into yours and he moaned sloppily against your wet lips, bodies throbbing and shaking and lungs gasping for air as you wrapped your legs around his waist and hummed in bliss.
Harry’s heart was going wild as he dropped his chest to yours and licked into your mouth, one final push of his cock into your cervix for good measure, pressing his come deeper yet.
“Oh my god,” you breathed out in a mumble as his lips still smeared against yours.
“I know…” he responded with his eyes closed as he continued kissing you.
Your fingers wound into his hair and he rolled you both to your sides, still connecting and simmering and reeling.
“I think now you have to stay,” you parted from the kiss and looked at him with a small smile. Hoping he’d agree to it. You weren’t ready to let him go home yet.
“Wasn’t planning on going anywhere. You’ll have to forcibly remove me from you now.”
You giggled and cupped his cheeks, “Good. Means you aren’t gonna be leaving then.”
Harry’s soft smile and his big hands on you felt like home. More than anything had before. The old house was your home, yes, but ever since Harry walked into your life you were a changed woman.
“So you’re mine now? Can I call you my girlfriend?”
You puffed out a laugh through your nose, “Of course. Long as I can call you my boyfriend.”
“Of course. Been dreaming about it since I first met you.”
You licked your lips, “Yeah? Guess we both wasted a lot of time beating around the bush didn’t we?”
Harry shook his head, “Nahh… we didn’t waste time. Every moment spent with you was exactly what was supposed to happen. Got to know you real well. Got to learn all kinds of things about you. I feel like the way it happened wasn’t supposed to happen any other way.”
You nodded and bit your lip. He was probably right. The time you two spent chatting and flirting and getting to know one another slowly made you both open up and feel more comfortable in each other’s presence. And it all led to that very moment right there in your bed.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen any other way.”
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Substitutes For "Dead Parents"
Okay you guys! I mentioned this in a past post, but when it comes to family, some of ya'll are just... not creative. And don't get me wrong, having deceased parents is deep, dark, and hard, but at this point, a lot of readers simply overlook that because it's just that common. Not to mention, a lot of you guys aren't doing nearly enough with that information! So, for this post, I'll give some new examples relating to "family struggles!"
>> Neglect: Neglectful parents often don't give their child enough attention, time, or care. They don't always hate their kid; quite the opposite, really, they can still love their offspring and are simply unaware that they are being neglectful. This happens for a multitude of reasons: all their attention is focused on a different child, they're busy, or they're just uninterested in their kid's activities.
>> Abuse: Abuse is rather straightforward; it can be physical, mental, or even both. Even if it's only physical abuse, it can heavily damage the child's mental health and make them question their self-worth.
>> Fighting: I think that a lot of us have endured our parents fighting, and I'm fully confident that none of us enjoyed it. It's incredibly difficult for a kid to listen to their parents fight without knowing how to stop it, being stuck in the middle, and even worse, being the center of the argument. As it escalates, the child may even feel neglected, because their parents are only focused on each other.
>> Absence: Like neglect, these parents don't devote nearly enough attention and time to their child. However, this is because they are hardly present in the household to begin with. Normally, it's their career that keeps them away, leaving their kid to raise themselves.
>> Controlling: Oftentimes, controlling parents are found in, believe it or not, more successful households. Kids who have parents that own a successful business or are powerful in general are sometimes raised to follow those footsteps regardless if they want to or not. If they don't want to, as a result, they are kept on a tight leash. Controlling parents can also be found in stricter households.
>> Toxicity: Toxicity, a form of emotional abuse, can come in many forms, gaslighting, demeaning words, constant criticism, comparison, etc. Frequently, the child is unaware that their parents are being toxic until a third party points it out to them. This is because they've only known their parents acting in toxic manners; thus, it becomes their norm. However, it's also entirely possible for the parent to be oblivious to the fact that they're being toxic.
>> Distant: Being distant doesn't always have to be because of some crazy reason; they might've been a very happy and close family once, but as time passes on, they just simply start drifting in their separate ways. It's not the same as neglect or an absence; the child is usually able to adjust to it easier, and it might've even been their choice to be distanced from their parents.
>> Child Responsibility: This is a scenario where the kid acts more like a parental figure--they have to take care of both themselves and their family. In some situations, they also have to work in order to supply their family with enough money to be able to pay for life necessities. This normally happens when a/the parent(s) are out of commission and struggle to provide for their family. If the household is poor, the child might be working alongside their parents in an attempt to make their lives easier.
Did I miss anything? Let me know what you guys think about these substitutes!
Happy writing~
3hks :D
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tojisbbygworl · 1 month
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The Apartment Across The Street - Sukuna x Reader
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In the short time he watches her, he learns 3 new things: 1. She has a mirror on the left side of the window. 2. She is completely unaware of how easily someone could see her in all her half-naked glory. 3. Sukuna could overpower her if it came down to it.
Or maybe it’s 4 things. From the beating of his heart and the warm rushing feeling heading towards his dick, he learns the drug he thought he needed might not be a drug at all.
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Words: 6.7k
Tags - 18+ MDNI, No Use of Y/N, No Curses, Set in late 90s/early 00s, Smut, Angst, High Sex, Missionary, Degredation, Marijuana, Slight x Toji (I can't help myself)
WARNINGS - Dead Dove, Dark, Non-Con/Dub-con, Breaking and Entering, Sukuna and Toji are criminals, Sukuna's a hitman, Choking, Violence
AO3 Version
Masterlist
author's note: Heyyyy! Okay I went a little too hard like I always do so this is a bit long and (imo) it get's a little intense so be warned. I hope you enjoy hopefully I have some motivation to keep writing. art cred: @innaillus
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That apartment used to be empty.
Sukuna hadn’t been home in a week. He doesn’t mind. He’s learned to not have too many hopes or expectations in this line of work. Besides, he prefers being his own boss. He accepts contracts when he needs money then he’s off until it runs out. Doesn’t matter if they take days or even weeks.
Shorter jobs like this one weren’t his treat. They don’t pay as much as he likes, but it works out. These apartments were a bit shitty, they didn’t cost too much. And, he was right in the middle of the city. Easy to meet clients. The clubs went on all night long. Which is exactly how late he was out when he was home. Actually, he was planning to go out tonight. Meet up with Toji and see if he can’t get a woman in his bed by 2 am.
He wondered how long it would take to see his newest neighbor. The way the apartments in the complex are built, you could easily see into your neighbor’s bedroom. 'State guidelines say blinds aren’t required. You buy them,' was the response he received when he brought the problem up to the landlord. A lot of people invested in curtains, maybe they hadn’t bought any yet. He saw a bed, but it seems to be the only thing they’ve managed to set up. There were a couple boxes with flaps wide open sitting beside it.
After a few more moments of rumination, he closed his curtain and laid down on his bed waiting for a text to come over. In truth, he couldn't wait to see who was unlucky enough to be his new window neighbor. The last one didn’t go too well. They also didn’t invest in curtains and he isn’t entirely sure if he’s the reason they moved out, but he’s sure they didn’t appreciate catching his stare multiple times a day. And that one time at midnight.
-
All it took was the next morning.
Sukuna’s eyes crept open and he stared towards the ceiling. The girl he brought home last night was dead asleep and naked on his chest. He yawned and wiped his face tiredly. He nudged the girl off of him a bit, then sat up on the side of his bed. Ugh, he felt like shit. Toji always went entirely too hard when they went out, but Sukuna doesn’t mind. He has nowhere to be. Nothing to do. 
He got up and stretched then walked to the bathroom. As he completed his morning routine, he pondered about what today would behold for him. This is another reason he hated short jobs. Sukuna loves free time, but only if there’s something to do with it. There never really is.
He could kill that girl in his bedroom. In fact, he could have killed any girl he brought home since he moved in half a year ago. But the last time he made his job his hobby, it didn’t go so well for him. It was too close of a call, and getting arrested for murder just isn’t worth it. He could spend a couple months in the pen, not years at a time.
He spat out his toothpaste. Life was so fucking mundane. He had no life goals, barely any friends, his little brother hates him, and he works alone. All things he doesn’t actually care about, but shit, when is he going to get some excitement? Nothing gets him going anymore.
He needs something that will make him feel. A drug of some sort? But that doesn’t seem right to him. Even now as he walks back in the room staring at the woman in his bed, he feels nothing. If she woke back up and decided she wanted to have sex with him, he would say yes, but only because it’s something to do. He’s not feeling any particular way about her.
The moment he sat back down on the bed, she started shifting around. A few seconds later, she lifts her head and yawns. “Good morning.” She giggles, she leans over and kisses his cheek. Sukuna grunts.
The girl looks around the dark room. “It is morning, right?” She doesn’t let him answer before she stands up and opens the curtains. “Oh wow,” she exclaims. “I can see directly into your neighbor’s room.” She says. He still doesn’t get up, just hums at her.
“She’s cute though.”
Sukuna perks up upon hearing that. “Oh yeah? I haven’t seen her yet. She’s new.”
This was the first time since they’ve met that she said something interesting, but unfortunately for him, she drops the subject immediately and walks back into bed, leaving the curtains open. Sukuna holds back his sigh. Does he really want to spend the rest of his morning with this girl? It was half past 8. Way too early.
“I'm going to start getting ready for work,” he says without skipping a beat. She stops in her tracks and blinks at him, clearly not expecting that. It’s silent for a few moments. Sukuna’s not sure what she’s waiting on, but if it’s for him to say he’s kidding or let her stay, she’s sorely mistaken.
“Oh, I thought you were contracted,” she says nervously.
‘I only work when I feel like it, gorgeous.’ Sukuna inwardly curses himself for his suave nature. “Yeah. I got a contract. In an hour.”
His curtness and annoyed expression did good to make her feel completely and totally unwanted. The girl awkwardly smiled at him. “Oh, ha ha. Yeah…okay.” Sukuna got up and walked out of the room. Give her a little space to feel like shit while she gets ready to leave. He makes himself a cup of coffee, his face still that same blank expression even after he hears her rushing out the door from behind him. When she’s gone he takes himself back into his room.
He walks up to his window to close the curtains once more until someone catches his eye. He freezes and his eyebrows shoot upwards. That girl was right. She was cute. And he had the perfect view of her. She seemed to be posing or checking herself out. Sukuna wasn’t sure which one it was, but he hoped she didn’t stop. That bikini she had on was doing wonders for her, and him.
Something was off. Looking at her made him…tense. His hands were gripping the curtains, he was biting the inside of his cheek, his leg was shaking; Was it anxiety? No, she’s not making him nervous. What he’s feeling is euphoric. He likes it. He wants to grip her bare waist and squeeze her until she bruises.
In the short time he watches her, he learns 3 new things: 1. She has a mirror on the left side of her window. 2. She is completely unaware of how easily someone could see her in all her half-naked glory. 3. Sukuna could overpower her if it came down to it. Or maybe it’s 4 things. From the beating of his heart and the warm rushing feeling heading towards his dick, he learns the drug he thought he needed might not be a drug at all.
-
It doesn’t take long after that to finally meet her.
Before taking his most recent job, Sukuna had nearly consumed everything in his fridge. What was left was now finished and he spent a lot of his morning sulking at a half empty milk carton, his breakfast for the day. He hated eating out, it messed with his figure.
The local grocery wasn't too bad of a walk from his place, although he hated carrying everything back. He always bought a few necessities and a few ingredients to quickly whip something up for his dinner. Today, he’d have to bulk up if he doesn’t want to keep coming back.
As much as he hated the public, shopping never seemed to be a problem for him. He was tall and intimidating, he never smiled, he was always tense; people tended to avoid him like the plague. He appreciated it. But, as he enters the frozen meal aisle with his cart half full he wishes that just for a moment, he looked approachable. Then, this would be much easier.
There she was, in sweatpants and a cropped tube top, looking at the frozen pizzas. She looked like she had been home all day. She was much cuter now that he could see her better. A lot cuter. She’s pretty as hell.
Thank goodness, too. He already knew what her body looked like, what with her constantly taking pictures of herself in front of the window. She liked to play dress up, she would try on entirely different outfits before she was satisfied. Pretty soon, the colors of her bras and panties would be ingrained into his memory.
He stood there looking her up and down for a few more seconds before he started browsing once more. Although he really was looking for food he wanted, he used this opportunity to slowly get closer to her. He pretended to be interested in some frozen broccoli and he snuck a look at her. To his surprise, and enjoyment, she had done the same. When they made eye contact, she jerked and looked away. A couple moments after that, she grabbed her food and walked away into another aisle.
Sukuna chuckled to himself. She wouldn’t get away that easily. He dropped the broccoli in his cart and followed after her. He hadn’t seen which aisle she’d gone into, so he kept walking down and looking into each one until he found her trying to get some chips from a high shelf. He smiled upon seeing her struggle. Maybe this would be easier than he thought.
He managed to walk right up behind her and reach for the chips she was trying to get before she got startled. She gasped a bit and looked up at him. He looked down at her. Fuck, she was pretty. His heart started to pound, he could practically salivate at the idea of taking her home.
He hands her the chips before she can say anything, then walks away. Before he’s out of her sight he hears her say, “Thank you so much.”
Her cadence, the velvety softness of her voice; it made him want to drop to his knees. How sweet would she sound if he bit into her neck? How soft is her yelp when she stubs her toe? How shrill is her scream when she’s in pain?
Her appreciation made him stop in his tracks. He turned over his shoulder to look at her. She seemed nervous and her eyes were uncertain. Sukuna began to feel restless. So many ideas of what he could do to her if he got her alone were rushing through his mind and she was none the wiser. This aisle has been empty and no one has come by. He could take her right now.
Instead, he looks her up and down. “Yeah, sure.” And then he walks away with his shopping. He leaves wondering when next they’ll meet, she does the same as she watches his back.
-
“Still haven’t called the maintenance guy, huh? Lazy jackass.”
Sukuna turns his head to the side and glares at his unwanted guest. Toji may have been his best friend, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t want to break his fat neck and bury him in the park. Besides, that title meant jack shit. They met in jail and Toji helped him get on his feet when Sukuna’s sentence was up. Toji never really left him alone and Sukuna stayed because his family was rich. If anything, they were close acquaintances who had sex sometimes.
Speaking of Toji’s money, the asshole grew up in an affluent family which means his standards were a bit too high for the humble abode that Sukuna prefers. It was probably the most annoying part about him. He was complaining about the door to the bathroom. It didn’t close correctly so you had to force it shut. Something that just isn’t enough of a problem to be bothered to try and fix.
“Stop coming over if it annoys you so much,” Sukuna responds, taking another drag from their second blunt for the morning. He was finally starting to feel something from it and he didn’t want to hear Toji whining about bullshit.
“Nah, I think I’ll keep coming. Especially with your fine ass neighbor.” Toji walked away again, not seeing Sukuna’s head jerk towards him. What was he talking about? Sukuna didn’t tell him about her. Did he see her?
“Why the fuck are you in my room?” He gets up to follow behind him. Sukuna looks down the hallway and sees both his room and the bathroom doors wide open. The bathroom was empty. “Get out.”
He starts walking towards his room door but jumps back when Toji rushes out of it. “Come look at this,” he says, grabbing his arm.
Toji had this crazed grin on his face and he was tugging him along impatiently. “What the hell are you-” Sukuna’s words die in his throat as he gazes upon what had Toji so excited. It was his beautiful neighbor changing in front of her mirror again except, there was a big problem. She had never been completely naked before.
Holy shit, her body could stop a truck. Sukuna let his jaw drop. His eyes raked her from her breasts to her legs. She would turn around occasionally, walk back and forth in front of the window, oh he loved the way her tits bounced. He wanted her on top of him, his dick sliding in and out of her while he latched onto her nipple.
“She’s sexy as fuck, huh?” Sukuna’s unceremoniously snapped out of his trance by Toji’s comment. He turns his head towards him looking at his smile and twinkling eyes. “She do this all the time? Does she even know?” Toji gasps and looks him in the eye. “Does she do it on purpose?”
I’m that moment, a switch had flipped inside of Sukuna. Toji was watching her before he brought him in here. He saw her naked first. He shouldn’t have seen her at all. The warm swarm of butterflies in his abdomen had fluttered away, a feeling of rage building in his heart instead. She was Sukuna’s to look at, not Toji’s.
To answer his question, Sukuna shrugs. Then, they both turn towards her again only to make eye contact with her. They see her gasp, cover herself and shriek before running from the window. “Fuck,” they say in unison before shutting the curtain.
“I blame you for that,” Toji says despite both of them being at fault. He puts his hands in his pockets and walks out of the room. “Where’s the blunt?”
Toji may have forgotten about that little encounter, but Sukuna doesn’t think he can forget anytime soon. He hates that Toji got to see her like that. They still haven’t spoken more than once to each other, and now she knows he’s a pervert that stares at her through their windows. Sukuna scowls at the ground then slams his hand into the wall. She’ll leave soon just like the last one did, but this time, he doesn’t want to accept that as a possibility.
He gives himself time to calm down before joining Toji again. He can’t bring work home again.
-
It was over.
He saw her once after that incident. Waiting for Toji to pick him up for the night, he stood outside the local gas station smoking a cigarette. She’d been on his mind since. She invested in curtains, unfortunately. She was really uncomfortable. He’s not even sure if she’s left the apartment.
Thinking about what happened made him furious. If Toji hadn’t gone into his room he would have never seen her. Oh he just can’t shut the hell up about the shape of her ass and how he would let her suffocate him with her gorgeous thighs. Sukuna sighed, her thighs were gorgeous weren’t they?
She was a missed opportunity. There are so many ways he could have started something with her. It’s not like she didn’t like him, had they met again before that, he’s sure he could have gotten her number. Usually, missing out on a woman wasn’t that bothersome, but she was different for him. He looked forward to beating his dick under the windowsill while she tried on clothes. His imagination wasn’t bad, but by the time he came in his hands, his dick was red and sore and his arm was tired.
His memory is not enough. He wants her.
He looks at the time on his watch. A quarter ‘til midnight. He rolls his eyes. Toji’s always late. A quick snack is in order.
Sukuna mindlessly stares at the powdered donuts wondering if he really feels like fucking up his clothes and having dirty fingers. He hates club bathrooms, the one here is just as bad, and he doesn’t want to lick his fingers. Maybe he won’t. But right before he decides to leave, the door opens. He turns his head upon hearing the small ring of a bell, but doesn’t pay attention to the culprit until they’re in the same aisle. “Oh shit,” he said before he could stop himself.
He tries to look away before she notices, but it’s too late. He looks back at her and grimaces. The girl is shaken to her core. Poor thing is afraid. And while Sukuna feels a bit bad about making such a cutie so frightened, it kind of…warms his heart. She takes in a deep breath and twists back around. She doesn’t even buy anything. She just leaves.
He almost chases her. He stands in the aisle still reveling in her presence. He breathes deeply thinking about how nice it felt to have such power over someone. Hm.
Sukuna leaves the store only a few moments after her. Toji’s BMW was running next to a pump as he got out of the car. “Oh shit, there you are.” He grins. “Guess who I just saw.”
“I know. She was running from me.” Sukuna says, getting into the passenger seat.
Toji cackles while driving away. “Damn, so she’s scared of us, huh?” Sukuna shrugs. “She looked like it. Girl was huffing it. Actually…she ran down the street towards where we’re going.”
Sukuna raises a brow at him. Toji doesn’t say anything and just keeps smiling. “So?”
He turns on his beamers and slows down as he drives between the apartment buildings. Sukuna’s eyes widen as he realizes just what Toji’s trying to do. And soon his lips follow. Just up ahead was a figure with a hoodie walking very quickly. They turn around and immediately shield their eyes from the bright lights. It was her.
She seemed confused at first, and the bright light contrasted with the darkness of the night blinded her from seeing who was in the car. However, she didn’t stop walking or slow down. She decided to mind her business instead. It could be anyone. Anyone. Even though it was the same car waiting at the gas station.
Despite her telling herself that she’s okay, she couldn’t help but notice how they were matching her speed. And that once they had gotten right behind her, the window was rolled down. And that she still had a block left to go.
“Ay,” Sukuna shouted from behind her, effectively terrifying her. She turned to see his smile and upon further investigation, she saw Toji’s from the driver’s seat. Oh no. “You can’t say hi? You scared of me?” He taunts.
She ran.
-
And that was the worst thing she could have done.
There have been a few recent instances that made her question her move to this city. She was hoping to start a new life, away from her family, away from her ex, make some new friends; she didn’t think she would be planning to move out after a couple months.
That man…she didn’t know what the hell his problem was. Why did he and his friend follow her out of the gas station? Was he crazy? Did she do something to him? Since they followed her, she’s been racking her mind trying to figure out what the hell she did to deserve this. Before that, she had only ever spoken to him once at the grocery store. He was extremely intimidating, but she was intrigued by him. She didn’t mean to stare, but he was very attractive. Clearly he had seen it as some sort of invitation. Maybe he followed her into that aisle and it wasn’t just an act of kindness.
Coming home after work had become so much more nerve wracking. In fact, coming out of her unit brings her horrible anxiety. She’s constantly looking over her shoulder. Tries to pretend the building across doesn’t even exist. She doesn’t understand what took her so long to get curtains; it just wasn’t a priority for her. Either way, she didn’t deserve to be punished for her forgetfulness.
She’s in a weird position where the longer she goes without seeing him, the more worried she becomes even though she never wants to see him or his friend again. Currently, she was in the elevator heading up to her apartment. She was catching her breath and trying to relax now that she was safe. She does this everyday now.
She couldn’t wait to be home. The entire day she’s been feeling like complete crap. Her heart refused to leave her stomach. She dropped so many cups behind the bar that she spent more time sweeping and wiping up drinks than making them. And she was on the verge of tears the entire time. It was nice to be home, but she wondered how bad it would be tomorrow.
In fact, it was so bad today that although she was physically relaxed, her brain just wouldn’t be quiet. It kept telling her to stay alert, that there was still something waiting for her. She tried her best to ignore it and enjoy her night. She was going to kick off her shoes, rip off all her clothes, warm up her leftovers and hit her bong. She was off tomorrow and she is not planning on leaving her room at all.
She messed with her keys when she approached her door. All the apartments had two locks, a deadlock and a lock on the handle, but she was looking for another that she could attach herself. The home goods store near her didn’t have any promising ones, so she had to wait on a shipment.
She reached for the handle to unlock it. Her hand twisted the lever and she retracted it immediately. Her heart starts racing once more, but then she realizes the door was still closed. When she can’t get the door open, she sighs in relief. The deadlock was still intact and locked. The apartments are just shitty.
As relieved as she was in that moment, this just meant she had another problem to deal with. She couldn’t go with one of her locks not working, especially not the handle. In fact, maybe she’ll deal with it tonight. She does have tools and she can be pretty handy when she needs to be.
Like she wanted to, she kicks off her shoes and rips off her jacket. She almost takes off her clothes before she notices a certain smell in the air. Her apartment smelled of weed, but it smelled like someone was actively smoking right at that moment. Maybe it was her next door neighbor.
She walks through her silent home. Maybe she should get a cat. There are quite a few friendly strays around. She could afford-
What was that noise?
A bump. In her bedroom.
What could it have been? Had her worst fears come true?
No. It’s not possible…so why had that sinking feeling returned in full force? There was nothing in her room. There was no one in her room…
-
Toji had broken the lock for him. 'Just record it for me,' was his end of the bargain.
The place was just as cute as he thought it was. She still had a lot of things unpacked, and she hadn’t gotten a couch for the living room. Hm. He wonders if she really is planning on leaving. That would not be good.
He would want her to stay, but if she can get away from him, at least he’ll get a taste of her.
She leaves her weed out. Hm…he would enjoy this better if he were high. And he’ll make her smoke too. 
When he heard her coming closer to her room, he put the bong down and stood up. Her room was small and it was pitch black, the only light coming from the embers in the bowl. He hit her closet door and she heard it. Fuck. He hopes she doesn’t get a weapon out.
And she didn’t. This girl is…something else.
He hides right behind the door in between the wall and the hinges. Then, he waited quietly and patiently until she slowly opened the door and turned on the light. And before she could try to look around, he slammed the door shut behind her.
-
It all happened in a second.
She heard the door slam and time froze. She told herself then and there, that she was going to die tonight. She knew who her killer would be before she turned around. Did she even want to?
She didn’t have a choice, her body reacted before she could think. All she saw was a small scowl, he had brown eyes, but they looked tainted with blood. His hands, his large hands, shot towards her head and before she could scream he trapped her mouth shut. His other hand gripped the back of her head.
She fought him as violently as she could. She scratched his face, pulled his hair, tried to poke him in the eyes; but he was quick to show her that he was much stronger than her. He pulls his hand off of her mouth and smacks her across the face. She can only scream for a second before his hand is back on her mouth and he pushes her into the bed.
Sukuna takes his hand off of the back of her head and squeezes her neck. He still holds her mouth shut. She gets weaker and weaker as the oxygen leaves her brain. He leans down towards her face to speak to her. “You want to live?”
Tears had long been streaming down her face, but this is the point where she finally breaks down wailing. She lets her arms fall and Sukuna loosens his grip on her neck. But only slightly. She takes a deep breath and cries into his hand. “Answer me,” he says. “Come on, pretty girl.”
She cries a bit more before nodding her head in defeat. “I know. You’re gonna do what I say?”
She nods again. “You’re not gonna scream when I take my hand off?” She sniffles and sobs again. “Because you want to fucking live, right? Right?” He tightens his grip on her neck again. She kicks her feet and nods as best as she can. “Go turn off your light and turn on your lamp. You’re gonna smoke with me.”
He gets off her and watches her to make sure she does what he asks. It takes her a minute, she lays there quietly sobbing and wiping her tears while Sukuna takes another hit of her bong, but eventually she gets up to turn on her lamp, then flip her light switch. “Lock the door too. I like the feeling of extra privacy when I’m taking a woman to bed.”
-
He disgusts her.
He forces her to take several long hits that had her in horrible coughing fits. And of course, it wasn’t long before she was completely inebriated. She couldn’t really move too much, or think too much. But even though she was out of commission, she could hear every word Sukuna said to her.
He talked her ear off about how he’d been looking at her for a week before they met at the grocery store. All the way up until she realized just how exposed she was from catching him and his friend staring. It was her fault, is what he said. He said she was stupid to not think anyone could see her. She should have gotten blinds or curtains when she moved in. A fucking dumbass bitch.
That’s how she felt.
He taunted her as he watched her take her clothes off. His dick was already in his hand, he had been hard for a while. Imagining his dick finally pounding into her as he squeezes the life out of her.
‘I think you wanted someone to watch you,’ he said to her. She hung onto every word he said, answered every question he had. ‘You’re an attention seeking slut, aren’t you? Nod your head.’ And she did. ‘What’s your name?’ And she told him. ‘Take that shit off faster and come hit this again.’
She was completely out of it, but instead of floating, she sank. She sunk deeper into the bedsheets, Sukuna weighing her down with every word. Every stroke of his hand on her thigh, every lick on her neck and collarbone, every bite on her chest. When he reached down between her legs and stroked her clit, she moaned, then cried in shame.
“Shhhh,” he whispered in her ear from behind her. “You’re gonna love me. And if you’re good I won’t hurt you.” He kisses her ear, then nibbles on it. He leaves a trail of wet kisses down the side of her neck. She cries and shakes, twisting her head away from him as best as she could. Sukuna’s hands explore her body eagerly. He can’t decide whether he wants to grip her hips or play with her nipples. She was so soft, just as he imagined.
He flips her onto her back. “Look at me, baby.” She opens her eyes only slightly, her tears blurring her vision completely before falling. He takes his hand to cup her cheek and wipe them with his thumb. As she gazed upon his naked body on top of hers, she accepts her fate: this man was going to rape then kill her.
He looked deranged. His brows were knit together with a lopsided grin. Her body is racked with sobs once more. “It’s okay,” he tells her. “Shhhh.” He slowly brings his thumb wet with salty tears to her mouth. She tries to pull her head away, but he quickly attaches his hands back to her mouth and head then he leans down towards her. “I thought you said you wanted to live.”
She’s actually not sure at this point. Does she want to live with this trauma? Does she want to continue being this man’s neighbor for him to torture however he sees fit? Does she want to have to look at his building every single day living in fear that he’ll do it again? Living in fear of his friend getting any bright ideas?
“Just relax.” He lets go of her head and goes for her neck. She moans as he bites and sucks on it, making sure to leave a mark reminding her of what he did. It won’t be the only one.
Sukuna slowly takes his hands and lifts both of her legs in the air. He licks his fingers while looking at her, then bites his lip as he plays with her clit once more. She breathes harder and harder with every rub. They don’t break eye contact, it does something to him. He’s reveling in her fear. Her eyes were shot, her mascara and eyeliner running down her face. It made her look even more beautiful. She was making him feral.
Sukuna’s dick was an angry scarlet and dripped precum all over her leg where it rested. He was big and it scared her even more. As his eyes explored her body, he got hungrier and hungrier. He slides a finger inside of her and starts pumping. Her pussy was slick with her arousal.
“Fuck,” he whispered putting in another finger. He pumped his fingers hard enough to make her wetness splash. She threw her head back and arched her chest into the air. She sounded just as sweet as he thought she would. She was turning out to be everything he wanted and more. He wasn’t waiting any longer.
He yanked his fingers out of her and searched her bedside table for his camcorder. She whined when he removed himself from her and watched him. Sukuna pressed record.
“Say hi to Toji,” he told her, sticking the lens in her face. She closes her eyes and tries to avoid the camera. He grips her chin with his fingers and forces her head forward. “Ain’t she pretty?” Sukuna pulls away from her face to record her body. He takes her tit in his hand to play with. He jiggles and pulls on her nipple before smacking it. When she squealed he did it again.
“He’s gonna love watching me fuck the shit out of you.” Sukuna sat and balanced the recorder on her nightstand perfectly angled to show their torsos and hips. He gets back on the bed to grab her waist and pull her towards his. He groaned when he felt his dick rub against her pussy. “You know who I’m talking about, right? My friend? You know he saw you before I did.”
He pauses to spit into his hand and starts jerking his throbbing shaft. “I wanted to kill that fucker.” Sukuna leans over once more and kisses her several times before capturing her lips in one long and forceful kiss. He rubs his dick against her entrance as he does this, with a desperate moan from both of them to accompany it. Sukuna rests his forehead against hers. “Tell me you’re mine.” His eyes are fiery, and she doesn’t wish to find out what will happen if she fails to do what he asks.
His tip begins to poke through her entrance. She whimpers and he brings his head down and bites her lip. “Come on…”
“I’m yours-” He finally starts tucking his dick into her. The feeling of being inside her was heaven on Earth. He wasn’t ashamed of how loudly he moaned. She was louder anyway. They always are. Even when they don’t want it.
“My name is Sukuna.” She takes all of him like a fucking champ. And looks good as fuck while doing it. And her voice…
“I’m yours, Sukuna.”
A tear ran down her cheek. The dragging of his dick against her walls was nothing like she’s ever felt before. It felt so good, but she was the unhappiest she’d ever been. She’s terrified and unsure if she’ll live to see tomorrow. He says he won’t kill her if she’s good, but what does good even mean to him?
She knows there’s nothing she really could have done to avoid what was currently happening to her. This man- no, Sukuna, saw her when she was first moved in and decided then and there that he wanted to rape her. No matter what he claims about her being rude and ignoring him when he helped her. And yet, she blames herself.
If she had just gotten curtains or blinds early enough, then maybe she could have avoided him. Or maybe she wouldn’t have existed to him at all. At least he wouldn’t have known what floor she was on or her room. Maybe he wouldn’t have known what building she was in.
She was so fucking stupid.
-
He repeated that all night.
‘Stupid fucking bitch,’ he would mutter under his breath. ‘Changing in front of a window, thinking no one’s gonna see you? Posing in mirrors and shit?’ He fucked her at a smooth and steady rythym, she was soaking wet and splashing all over his stubble. The sheets were damp underneath. ‘Oh yeah. You like it when I talk to you like that?’ She couldn’t stop herself from crying in humiliation.
He asked her to cry louder for ‘Toji’, which she did, and he proceeded to smack her across the face for being too loud.
He felt amazing, he pushed her legs into her chest and hammered into her. She cried into his mouth as she came all over him. Her pussy squeezing his member drive him insane and before he knew it he was cumming inside her. ‘Fuck…’ He pulled out and jerked the rest of his cum onto her pussy and thighs. He quickly grabbed the camera to show Toji, with the flash on.
‘Look at that shit,’ Sukuna made sure to examine her at every angle. He pushed his finger into her and chuckled when she moaned. His index was covered with his cum and he brought it and the camera up to her body and face.
She was completely tired out. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t speak, she could barely even lift her eyelids. Sukuna kissed at her like a dog, then maneuvered the camera to her face. Her face was soaked with tears and spit. Her makeup had smudged everywhere and ran down her cheeks. Her hair was a mess, and she ached everywhere.
Her mouth hung open and Sukuna proceeded to jam his finger into it. He used it to pull her head back over to him and made out with her. Then, his dick started poking her ass.
She had no idea what time last night they were finally done, talk less of when she actually fell asleep. He smoked a blunt after the whole thing, sat her up so he could make her smoke too. He found her liquor cabinet. The night got worse.
She puked her guts out then fell asleep on the floor, but now she was in her bed trapped underneath him. They were both naked. She was sore as the day was long. He snores next to her. Holy fucking hell. She’s alive. Why is she alive?
She starts breathing heavily and looking around her room. She doesn’t know what to do. She didn’t think she would still be here.
In a flash, he’s up. His hand is over her mouth, and his eyes are staring into hers. He has a poker face. She shakes in his clutches and her eyes fill with tears already. “Relax. Listen to me. I know what you’re planning.”
What? What is he- “I dare you to fucking try and move away from me. I will follow you and ruin your life.”
“You said you were mine last night? Then you’re mine. You’ll do what I say, and I’ll do as I please with you. Do you understand?”
All she could do was nod. What could she say? She was planning on moving despite not having the money for it. She would have to save up. And now that he’s shown her what he’s capable of, why would she take the risk? 
Why is this happening to her? What did she do to deserve this? Want a better life for herself?
-
Sukuna was pleased with how the morning was going.
She was sitting on a stool in her dining room watching him make them breakfast with an ice pack on her face and a blanket over her body. She didn’t know what to think.
Suddenly, he perks up and turns towards her. “You got a phone, pretty?” 
She could throw up again. She swallows and points towards the hall . “My room,” her voice was hoarse and weak. “On the other side of the bed.”
He pauses and blinks at her. She gets scared again wondering what she did wrong this time. He turns the heat off. “You’re coming with me.”
Toji answers in a flash. “So, how was it?”
“You’re gonna like what you see.” He turns towards where she’s sitting on the bed. “Isn’t that right?” She’s not amused.
“Are you…are you with the bitch right now?” Toji asks.
“Yeah,” Sukuna makes his voice dreamy. “We’re going steady.”
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ending a/n: Please lmk what you think ! Thank you for reading !
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donatellawritings · 2 months
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would rafe ever actually hurt the reader or does he always say empty promises when he’s upset? would you write that? love your work xx
ugh so basically, this is the first and only time that rafe and sweetheart actually break up :(
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there was only one instance where rafe had hurt you — and it was one of, if not, the only regret that will continue to haunt him, whenever you shed even a single tear. it was pretty early on in your relationship, he was still struggling to navigate how to handle someone as pure as you, while you were still finding your footing when it came to having such a volatile lover in rafe cameron. you’d been warned by your cousin, kiara — she was firm in maintaining her stance on being against you and rafe being in a relationship … you were her family, you had a heart of genuine gold, while rafe only displayed the facade of being a blood and money hungry man with incessant skeletons in his closet.
“don’t fuckin’ walk away from me, when i’m talkin’ to you,” rafe shouted, hot on your trail as you tearfully made your way into your shared bedroom. mascara-stained tears painted your once blushed cheeks with dark and watery streaks, your lip poked out in a wobbly pout as you turned to face your angered boyfriend, “of course, the baby is fuckin’ crying — i should be the one that’s fuckin’ crying after the way you walked around like a dumb slut,” he scoffed, completely unfazed by your genuine tears of sorrowful frustration. now focusing your gaze at your kitten-heel clad feet, your shoulders slumped as a choked out sob sipped from between your swollen lips.
rafe was completely coked-out, blaming his over-indulgence on the fact that it had been months since he’d been able to enjoy a night out. his usually cold, yet enticing bright blue glaze was taken over by blown pupils and bloodshot eyes that stared at you with nothing, but disdain, “y’fuckin’ look at me when i’m talking to you,” he spoke lowly, a squeaky yelp coming out of you as he gripped your jaw, forcing your head up to make direct eye contact with him. your hand gently held onto his wrist, fat tears cascading down your waterline as rafe painfully pinched your cheeks together, “i want you to get the fuck out of my house — y’wanna fuckin’ talk to other guys while m’making us money? then fucking leave,” he spat through gritted teeth, pushing your face away as you let out a throaty cry.
that was far from the case — rafe had simply caught you making conversation with some random kook who’d failed to take the hint that not only you were uninterested, but you were rafe’s girl. but, rafe was too far gone to see anything aside from what his intoxicated mind wrongfully conjured up.
with a heaving chest, you let out a cry as you reached to grab rafe’s arm, “no, papi, i don’t want to go — please ju-just listen to me,” the second your hand touched rafe’s flexed arm, your head whipped to the side as rafe’s ring-clad hand slapped you right across your pretty face. your cheek pulsed with an aching sting as you blinked, your swollen lips parted in disbelief.
the sharp sound of rafe’s hand connecting with your face instantly caused your boyfriend to sober up, just enough for his eyes to widen in realization as he immediately approached you, “fuck, baby i didn’t mean to fuckin’—” he began, reaching an arm out to pull you into his chest, his heart sinking to his stomach as you backed away from him, bone-chilling cries leaving your mouth as you made a run for the bedroom door. “no-no, mama, please just fuckin’ listen!” he shouted, his arms successfully wrapping around you from behind as he pulled you flush against his tense chest.
“i fucking hate you, let me go!” you screamed, kicking your heeled feet as rafe tightened his hold on you, your eyes burning with reddening tears as you let out a choked sob. your cheek still pulsed as you began to sink to the floor, rafe lowering himself with his arms secured around you as you weakly clawed at his strained forearms, “please, i just want to go home,” you squeaked out, rafe’s eyes glazing over — this was supposed to be your home. you’d given up on kicking at the floor and scratching rafe’s arms, your heaving cries making you a bit sleepy as rafe wordlessly held you against him, waiting until you were calm, before he’d speak again.
tears silently rolled down rafe’s structured face as he hopelessly clung to you. you had every right to hate him and he accepted that, but the possibility of you leaving him for good was really starting to bite at him. with a shaky sigh, rafe leaned his forehead against your shoulder, “baby, pl-please let’s just, let’s just go to sleep,” he whispered, his voice wobbly as he swallowed down a pathetic cry. you remained quiet as you stared at the hardwood floor that had been scuffed by your heels, your doe eyes puffy and red from all of the crying you’d done, your eyelids heavy. “m’so fuckin’ sorry,” rafe cried, feverishly pressing his lips into the back of your shoulder, over and over again, his wet eyelashes now prominent against your exposed skin.
you were completely numb, once rafe slowly rose to his feet, keeping you in his arms as he carefully removed your clothes, replacing them with one of his t-shirts, tears rolling down his face as you remained limp, your eyes blank of any recognizable emotion as you refused to look directly into his eyes. you didn’t even move when rafe softly cradled the back of your head, pressing a kiss into your forehead as you simply blinked, your wispy lashes clumped together from your warm tears. carefully leading you to your shared bed, rafe remained fully clothed in his button-up and slacks, silently thankful that you were able to fall asleep with your bruised cheek finding comfort against his cheek. he couldn’t find it in himself to sleep, once he was completely sober and of a sound mind, rafe knew that he’d completely fucked up.
this wasn’t supposed to happen, not with you. he was supposed to be different, he was supposed to be a man of dignity, yet here he was slipping into his old ways.
so, rafe was awake when you finally woke up, his heart beating just a bit quicker as you raised your head from his chest, your cheekbone a light reddish-purple shade. it wasn’t until your exhausted and strained eyes met his, that rafe wanted nothing more than to fall to his knees and beg you for your forgiveness. but, he knew he’d be selfish to expect you to forgive him, only mere hours since he’d put his hands on you. biting back tears, rafe stood from the bed, “i want to take you somewhere, baby — y’don’t have to change your clothes, just come with me to the car, yeah?” rafe held out his hand, a slight warmth fluttering in his chest as you lightly held onto his hand with a small nod.
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rafe was thankful that you’d fallen asleep, about five minutes into the drive. he’d been wracking over his mistake over and over again, to the point where he couldn’t even bring himself to turn the car around and drive back home with you. slowly bringing the car to a stop, rafe gently parked the car, running a hand over his shaven face with a low and shaky sigh. his tired eyes looked over your peaceful state, your puffy lips slight parted as you fell into a deep sleep. rafe’s heart ached as he gently laid a hand on your thigh, lightly nudging you out of your sleep, a sad and knowing smile tugging on his lips as you opened your eyes.
“rafe, why are we here?” you asked, your voice raspy and hoarse as your eyes glazed.
rafe had driven you home.
unbuckling his seatbelt, rafe shifted to give you his full attention, his hand bringing yours to his lips as you looked at him with tearful eyes, “i want you to listen to me, a’ight? i need to be a better man for you,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, before swallowing thickly as you held in a cry, “m’gonna get my shit together, princess—” he continued, watching as you furiously shook your head. you were stubborn, but this was the one time where he needed you to listen to him.
“no, i wanna be with you — i don’t hate you, i—” you panicked, tears streaming down your face as you softly pulled your hand away from rafe’s, using both of your small hands to cover your face.
“m’gonna come and get you when i get better, okay mama? but right now, you need to go home, a’ight?” he sighed, keeping his eyes focused on the steering wheel. if he even looked at you for a second, he knew that he’d be back on the road, with you in the passenger seat, riding off into the sunset.
sniffling back a sob, you glanced at your boyfriend through cloudy eyes, “you’re breaking my heart, papi,” you cried, your puffy lips now dry as you licked over them. you wanted so bad to crawl into his lap and fall asleep, forget this all happened. unfortunately, rafe had already made up his mind.
“baby, please go home, this isn’t easy for me,” rafe spoke sternly, maintaining his gaze on the steering wheel, tears burning at his waterline as you nodded weakly, before stepping out of the car, gently closing the passenger door as you walked towards your house.
neither you nor rafe had the strength to look at each other as you made your way into your house, leaving rafe a tearful mess as he aimlessly made his way back on the road. every few minutes, he’d glance at the passenger seat, hoping that you’d magically appear next to him and be your usually smiley self, but he knew that couldn’t happen, not for a while.
rafe meant it when he said that he’d come get you, once he got better and he looked to make good on that promise. you were his sweet girl and he wouldn’t be able to live with himself, if he managed to lose you for good. he just hoped that you’d still love him, when he returned.
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rootbeerworshiper · 2 months
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Under the Table
Reader x Matt Sturniolo
summery: you’re left with no choice but to tutor the star hockey player, Matt Sturniolo, but as much as you pride yourself on not being into hockey players, not even you can resist.
warnings: smut!!!! fem!recieving, unprotected sex (reader on birth control), dumification kink if u squint, dom!matt, male!receiving, slight aftercare, fluff, yeah guys idk
love, sienna <3
being an english major at Boston University was no easy feat.
you were constantly engulfed in numerous amounts of homework, from essays to poetry analysis, you were swamped.
money wasn’t something that you grew up from, and with the large amounts of school work piling up, you didn’t have time for a job.
so when your professor mentioned tutoring, you were sold.
english was always something you were naturally good at and you prided yourself on keeping the same grades you had in high school while in college.
tutoring can’t be that hard right?
wrong.
you had put out a few flyers that offered your services and the one person who took you up on that offer was none other than Matt Sturniolo.
although the two of you went to the same high school you had never spoken outside of a couple class assignments—this was more than okay with you.
Matt fit the description of a dumb popular jock to a tee, and you considered the fact that he got into the same college as you unfortunate.
after hours of hard work and effort went into your acceptance, the last thing you needed to see was a post from your highschool congratulating the Matthew Sturniolo on his D1 scholarship to the school.
hockey was a pretty big part of New England but it was never a sport that spoke to you, well not that most sports did.
the entire atmosphere of hockey boys was enough to give you the ick and yet here you are, sat alongside the schools top player, trying to get him to form an essay.
“you have to have an argumentative statement, something to base the whole essay off of and interest the reader” you state, trying your best to not get annoyed at the clueless boy.
he stares at the blank google doc. “well what am i arguing?”
you sigh. this was harder than you thought. “the main theme of this essay is supposed to be on complexity. you chose ‘Beartown’ as your independent novel so you have to argue how the text is complex, or what makes it so complex.”
it was like talking to a toddler, the information going in one ear and out the other. “i can’t write the essay for you Matt”
he groans. “why not?”
you think for a second, once again attempting to not get frustrated. “the story is told from multiple perspectives right?” he nods. “why might that be more complex than a story just told from one?”
it’s clear he’s thinking, and you just hope what you said made sense. “well adding more perspectives would make it like complex because it builds a story that has layers”
subconsciously you smack his arm out of excitement. “yes! there you go. in better words you have your statement to build this essay off of”
you’re heart melts at his smile in response.
sure, you hated his guts, but you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t incredibly hot.
it’s difficult to peel your eyes off of him as he maintains eye contact with you, but you have work to do, and you won’t be yet another girl who grows infatuated with Matt Sturniolo—you just won’t.
the next few sessions were as normal as they could be.
it wasn’t easy to keep him on topic, he was always distracted by something.
sometimes he just looks at you, and you weren’t entirely sure how to feel about it—often diverting the conversation to something else.
trying to get him to understand poetry was a whole new headache.
you had spent hours in the library at this point after finally completing the dreaded essay, now crafting an analysis on different poems.
if you hadn’t picked such a comfortable outfit for this session you’d probably hate your life right now—so you mentally thank yourself for choosing a sweat suit.
to say you were both exhausted would be an understatement.
trying to teach a hockey boy the importance of the placement of words on a page and why capitalization can help emphasize certain points was tiring—you could tell he was tired too by the way he buried his face in his hands periodically.
“maybe we should just call it a night” you say, closing your laptop and yawning.
the last thing you expected was for him to disagree. “no wait i really need this done for tomorrow’s class it can’t be late. if i fail this class i can’t play in playoffs”
right. how could you forget the beloved hockey player will miss out on the big game if you don’t help him.
“i’d stay and help you but the library closes in ten minutes so there’s not much more we can do” you reply, already defeated.
Matt however has more ambition to complete this assignment than you expected. “we can go to my dorm”
you give him a look of slight disbelief. “your dorm?”
he just nods excitedly. “yeah my roommates out of town right now and we only have like 2 more poems left. it’s perfect”
“i don’t know Matt i’m tired” you sigh. not only were you tired but the idea of being in a college boys dorm was not the most appealing.
the eyes he gives you might be the death of you. “please?” you rub your forehead with your hand as if to release tension. “i’ll buy you red bull”
you smile at this. “fine. but i can’t be out for forever”
“you won’t be i swear. i’ll be so dialled in” he smiles. a sight that you are more than okay with seeing.
the walk to his dorm is short, with a stop at the campus confectionery for two sugar free red bulls.
not a lot is said as you enter the main building, walking through the halls as you near Matt’s room.
he goes to open the door but pauses. “don’t judge the decorations in here”
you smile at this, expecting something along with lines of hockey sticks taped on the walls. but what you were met with was much different.
there’s white christmas lights strung on the wall and shelves filled with numerous books and journals. all the furniture was a cohesive shade of brown and alongside the hockey posters were different vintage prints.
in the least weird way possible, you were jealous of his dorm. “this is not what i was expecting” you gawk as he shuts the door behind you.
it’s visible how embarrassed he is so you do your best to shut that down. “i love it actually, if you showed this to any of my friends they’d assume that i decorated it”
he smiles now but doesn’t touch on his ‘girl english major’ room decor tendencies. “uh i’ll just clear off the desk here and then we can get to work, you don’t want the overhead light on do you?” he asks, immediately earning a shake of the head from you.
so now you’re sat next to him, opening your laptop in the midst of the dim lit room as you sip on the red bell purchased by the brunette. “okay where do you want to start? you have two more poems to analyze”
he just rubs his eyes. “you pick”
getting him to focus would be an impossible task “if you’re too tired we can stop or-“
he shakes his head immediately, as if to wake himself up. “no i’m good to keep going, just need a sec to wake up” he defends.
“okay we’ll start with this one then, do you wanna read it?” you look to the tired boy.
“can you? i’ll listen i swear” you groan but agree, it’s been a long day and you don’t want to push him too much.
so you begin reading. “you must not wonder, though you think it strange” he places his hand on your thigh almost immediately. “Matt”
“keep reading, don’t worry about me” he leans into you slightly more, looking at the words on the screen over your shoulder, his breath hot on your neck.
“to see me hold my louring head so low” you continue, his hand inching closer to your centre.
normally you’d be against this—you’d be standing up and telling him off.
but something about the way his hand covers majority of your upper thigh and the smell of his breath has you insane.
so you try your best to focus on the words, not the pooling wetness in your underwear. “And that my eyes take no delight to range” he places a kiss to your neck—so incredibly gentle it could make your skin crawl.
you let out a sigh, trying to avoid throwing your head back as his hand makes contact with your clothed clit. “keep reading baby cmon”
you do as you’re told. “About the gleams on which your face do grow” he kisses down your neck now as his hand increases his gentle pressure.
subconsciously you buck your hips up—eager for more stimulation. “yeah you like that?” he whispers in your ear as you fight back a moan, instead just nodding. “i need words” he takes his hand off, still keeping his face close.
“fuck Matt yes i like it, i need more” you whine, shutting your eyes as his hand toys with the hem of your sweats.
“can i take these off?” he asks, tugging slightly.
you nod eagerly. “please” you lift our hips up and he slides your sweats off, leaving you in your underwear.
his hand roams your lower half, his palm placing pressure on your clit as his fingers explore your clothed entrance. “god your soaked. i knew you’d fall apart under my touch”
there’s the cockiness that normally you hate, right now though? it only turned you on more. “keep reading cmon pretty girl”
you open your eyes to look back at the screen. “the mouse with one hath-“ you let out a breath as his fingers go back to toying with your clit. “broken out of trap”
“not so smart now huh?” he whispers.
you’re a whimpering mess now with the way his thumb rubs small circles on your clit as his mouth places sloppy kisses on your exposed neck. “Matt please i need you”
this must have been enough for him to stop teasing because he immediately stands up, placing your hands on his shoulders as he grabs you legs to pick you up—finally placing his lips on yours.
it’s messy and it’s desperate but it’s also fucking hot.
he leans over, letting your back fall on his bed as he hovers over you.
wasting no time he signals for you to lift your arms as he brings your hoodie over your head, revealing your bare chest. he smiles at this. “such a fucking slut tutoring me without a bra on”
he hovers back over you now, whispering in your ear once more before his fingers begin to toy with your already hardened nipples. “couldn’t focus when i saw your nipples poking out of your hoodie, begging to be touched”
you can’t even reply with words, too focused on the way his thumb grazes your sensitive nipple.
you’re a mess and he’s barely done a thing, already arching into him, but you try to gain focus—if he gets to see you like this you deserve the same.
without words you reach for his shirt, struggling to lift it up as you’re overcome with pleasure.
he knows exactly what you want through, taking his hands off of temporarily, now hovering over you once more.
you can’t help but gawk at his physique. it’s hard to focus on the tattoos when your eyes are drawn to his abs that are extenuated by the dim lighting.
“gonna make you feel so good baby” he begins to make his way down. “you’ve spent so much time on me, gotta make it up to you, yeah?” he kisses your clit through your underwear.
at this point your throbbing. “yes” you spit out.
he pulls down your underwear, leaving you completely exposed for him as he stares at you once more, fully taking in the sight in front of him.
you hide your face with your hands, too embarrassed at the mere vulnerability. “let me see your face baby” you shyly remove your hands, looking up at the boy now—you’re practically begging with your eyes.
“you’re so fucking perfect” he leans back down to give you one more kiss, this one more intimate than the last few. “so much better than my imagination” you giggle at this but before you know it he’s back down where you want him, pushing your legs open as he spits on folds—mesmerized by the way it slides down.
before you can complain again he finally makes contact, licking up the wetness his voice has caused before focusing on your clit.
you’re already incredibly turned on, the feeling of his warm tongue on you causes you to let out an almost uncontrollable moan.
he lifts off, kissing your clit. “shhh baby, i have neighbours” he brings his hand to your mouth and you waste no time sucking on them to muffle your moans.
almost immediately he gets back to work, as if he’s starving for you—and to be fair he might be.
his constant flicking of his tongue on your clit has you whimpering and moving around under his touch—you’re already incredibly sensitive.
it’s like he’s in a trance, giving you his full attention, until momentarily he backs out for air. “wanna cum on my fingers?” you practically moan at his words, nodding frantically. “what’d i say about your words”
his hand continues working on your clit at a slow pace while he speaks. “yes- fuck wanna cum on your fingers” he smiles at this and immediately brings two finger into your entrance, if it weren’t for his hand that immediately covered your mouth the neighbours would be sick of you.
he goes slow at first, hitting your g-spot with every curl of his long fingers. “you’re so good Matt” you moan as he speeds up. “so fucking good”
it’s clear he liked the praise by the way he dips his head back down, his tongue making familiar contact with your clit.
you’re gone. absolutely spent under his touch.
his pace quickens when he feels you clench around him, his tongue forming small teasing circles on your clit while his fingers dig impossibly deeper into you.
“fuck” you throw your head back. “i’m cl- fuck i’m close” his already fast pace quickens, his tongue now applying a pressure to your clit you didn’t know was possible.
before you can even warn him your legs close on his pretty brown hair as you arch your back. it’s practically impossibly to stay quiet, his pace not slowing down at all as you rock your hips through your orgasam.
eventually he pulls back, not wanting to overstimulate you too much.
your practically out of breath from holding back your moans but his face comes to meet yours once more. “you did so good for me” he kisses you before you can reply, the rhythm of your lips together is comfortable.
as great as it is, you can’t help but feel his buldge through his pants on your thigh, so you do what you’re sure he appreciates and you reach your hand down—immediately wrapping your hand around the outline.
he stops kissing you and immediately drops his head to your shoulder and you fingers continue. “you gonna take your pants off or am i making you cum in your underwear”
he chuckles softly at this, but nonetheless gets straight to work sliding off his pants and leaning in to kiss you once more.
you decide to take initiative, flipping him over and immediately straddling him—the look in his eyes is priceless.
if you could take a picture you would. never in your life has someone looked so incredibly fuckable, but here was Matt Sturniolo, laying beneath you with his messy hair and eyes full of lust.
you waste no more time, grinding your hips on his clothed bulge and kissing along his collarbone—the poor boy practically shivers at your delicate touch. “if you don’t do something i swear to god-“ you grab his bulge now, looking at the boy who’s eyes have just squeezed shut.
“what was that?” its unlike you to be dominant, but it’s also unlike you to fuck a hockey player so really all cards were on the table.
you give in though, crawling down to lick his pre cum through his boxers, teasing slightly more before pulling them down all together—the sight is mouth watering.
he’s a mess beneath you as you look at him, his dick is a good size, longer than it is thick, the way his wetness practically glistens on his tip is enough to have you flustered. “cmon pretty girl stop teasing” he says from beneath you, his hands behind his head as he watches you.
you pull your hair back slightly as you place your flat tongue on his tip, making him hiss above you as he uses his hands to keep your hair out of your face.
almost instantly you get to work, taking as much of him as you can, letting your saliva drip down on his length as you slowly lift your head up and down.
his whimpers go straight to your core, your body already begging for more as you swirl your tongue on his tip.
you pop off almost unexpectedly, and speak before he can even say anything. “i wanna ride you” you wipe the saliva off your mouth as you look at the shocked boy who’s smile grows slowly.
“yeah?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows, unsure.
you nod your head sitting up more now to face him. “yeah” you smile and before he can fully reach for his bedside table you stop him. “i’m on birth control” you begin to crawl down leaving kisses on his stomach.
“and i.”
kiss.
“wanna.”
kiss.
“feel.”
kiss
“you.”
his breathing immediately increases as you line yourself up, his hands making their way to your waist to assist you as you lower onto his length.
you let out a breath as you adjust to the size. “fuck you feel so good around me” Matt practically moans out.
it takes a moment for you to adjust fully, but you begin moving up and down and the boy beneath you is a moaning mess.
you rock your hips a little faster, leaning forward now he places his mouth on your nipple and you can feel the way he moans into you—it’s hot as fuck.
it doesn’t take long for you to feel close, and it’s like Matt can tell because he immediately places his hand in between your bodies and places a familiar touch to your throbbing clit.
you pick up the pace, chasing your high. “Matt fuck i’m so-“ you just moan again, unable to speak.
through his many heavy breaths he replies. “me too pretty girl”
a few more rocks of your hips and you feel his warmth fill you up as your stomach feels the familiar clenching feeling, his hand moving quickly beneath you, causing your second orgasam of the night.
by now your both exhausted, tired from doing so much school and well, from fucking too.
you basically plop down beside him, the two of you out of breath.
“i like that form of payment” you joke, causing Matt to nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck while your fingers begin to play with his hair.
you feel his smile on your collarbone and his hand makes its way across your stomach. “guess i’ll have to get tutored by you more often” he sighs, standing up and placing his boxers back on. he walks to the bathroom and you’re confused for a second, but he comes back out with a damp cloth, and begins cleaning the mess the two of you made.
Matt may be a dumb hockey player, but his pros definitely outweighed the cons.
he offers you one of his shirts which you welcome with open arms as you slide your underwear back on. it’s safe to say this is the giddiest you’ve ever felt after a hookup.
now that he’s back in bed you immediately lean into him, as tired as you are you still want to me close to him, wrapping your leg over his waist.
he rubs your bare thigh as he unplugs the lights and kisses the top of our head. “goodnight baby”
you nuzzle yourself impossibly closer to him. “goodnight Matt”
and with that the two of you pass out. the day completely drained both of you, and with the comfort of each other you were gone.
the next morning came by quick, the sun immediately waking you up. the boy next to you is still sound asleep and as cute as ever but the new day means his poetry analysis needs to be completed—for once you weren’t opposed to cheating.
you get up as slowly and quietly as you can, grabbing the laptop off of his desk and bringing it back into bed with you.
it doesn’t take long for you to complete the last two poems, you make sure to use less big words and get a couple things wrong so as to hide your actual identity.
just as you finish writing the last sentence Matt wakes up, tossing and turning slightly before his eyes meet you.
you smile at the sight of the sleepy boy. “good morning, how’d you sleep?”
he brings his arm to your waist, pulling you into him as you place the laptop to the side. “i was knocked the fuck out. what are you up to?”
“may have just finished your poetry analysis” a grin enters your face at the shocked expression Matt shows instantly.
“holy shit really?” he sits up now, hands still on you.
you play with his fingers. “it didn’t take that long or anything”
he scoffs. “i forgot you were a genius” you just kiss him in reply.
“you need to get ready, you have playoffs to train for” you say, you had noticed his calendar had a practice today when you were analyzing his room last night.
a few minutes later and Matt is ready, it really doesn’t take long at all to be a man.
you sit at the edge of his bed, putting on your sweats from last night.
he walks over towards you, hovering over you as he brushes through your hair with his fingers. “i’ll see you tomorrow night yeah?”
you furrow your eyebrows. “what’s tomorrow night?”
“playoffs” he smiles. “figured you might wanna watch your boyfriend score a few goals”
his confidence never fails to amuse you. “boyfriend huh?” you tease and he just nods, looking for confirmation. “guess as your girlfriend i’ll stop by for a bit” he misses you immediately, a smile still on his face when you pull back. “but don’t expect me to be screaming for you, that’s really not my scene”
“i’d expect nothing less”
a/n: this literally spawned out of mid air but omg so cutesy i want hockey matt in my life rn
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astupidweeb69 · 4 months
Text
The Roommate (Dark!Ticci Toby x F!Reader)
NSFW One-shot
Author's note: This is my first time writing smut, so sorry if this turned out bad. It's also way longer than I thought, hopefully there aren't any spelling errors. Cross posted on my AO3 account.
Warnings: Swearing. Toby being creepy, he hurts the reader, blood kink? unprotected sex, creampie, biting, it's just... a lot. (4,519 words) - Minors DNI!
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___________________________________________________________
Your brother hated his new roommate.
From what you gathered from the phone calls you two had, you knew he kept to himself, was kind of creepy and left the occasional mess in the kitchen. Your brother had tried to include him when he went out with his other college friends, but he always refused. The guy was gone at odd hours during the night, and smelled like dirt and pine.
You told him it was his own fault for posting an ad for a roommate on Craigslist.
It wasn’t all bad though. He paid his rent on time, always in cash - which he slipped under your brother's bedroom door at the end of every month. Plus, he had insisted on not signing any formal documentation. The lease they had was just a last minute document drawn up for a short term stay. 
Your brother would only have to put up with him for 6 months. Then he’d be gone.
But hey, beggars can’t be choosers. And your brother needed someone to pick up part of the rent last minute.
After a few months it had seemed like he’d grown accustomed to the strange ‘twitchy’ man he lived with, that is, until you told him your plans to visit.
You finally got some time off, and it was the only chance you’d get to see him. So when all the hotels in the area were fully booked you were not about to give up. And….your brother’s place had a perfectly good couch available, right?
He was reluctant at first, but after much pleading, he finally agreed.
On one condition.
Stay away from Toby.
You figured he was just being overprotective. It was kind of sweet, but he’d never been that adamant about you not talking to someone before. There must have been something seriously messed up with the guy. And to be perfectly honest, it made you second guess whether you’d actually go through with the trip out there.
But you already bought the plane ticket, and you couldn’t let that money go to waste.
So now you sat in the passenger seat of your brother's truck, the two of you making idle chit chat as he drove you back to his place from the airport. 
He talked about school, the classes he was taking, what parties he’d been going to, and fraternities he’d been considering joining. That last part earned him some of your teasing about becoming a beer pong loving, “Frat Bro”.
Only after a few beats of silence, you decided to ask him something that had been bugging you since your arrival. 
“Your roommate knows I’m staying at your place, right?”
It was a simple enough question. The last thing you wanted was to intrude on someone else’s living space after all.
You saw your brother grip the steering wheel harder. “Yeah. Toby should know you’re coming.” His response was curt and lacking his previous joyful tone.
“You two fighting or something?” 
Your brother sighed. “No just,” He paused for a moment, and glanced at you. “He’s been acting weirder than usual.”
“Weird how?” 
He didn’t say anything for a while, instead mulling over his choice of words. Not wanting to scare you, but still wanting to give you a heads up of the situation. “He’s been talking to himself. A lot.”
“That’s not that bad. Lots of people do that.” You don’t know why you felt the need to defend a person you hadn’t met yet.
Another pause. This one is longer than before.
“You haven’t heard what he’s been saying.”
______________________________________________________________
The road ahead was dark, lit up by the dim headlights of the car. The only thing out here now was trees, broken up by the occasional house. It was definitely far from campus.
The driveway was gravel, the truck rocking back and forth from the potholes and uneven terrain, finally coming to a stop in front of the house. Painted a dull plain white, one story, rather small, but it would do. It’s not like you were expecting a mansion.
After the car came to a stop, you grabbed your luggage from the backseat, following your brother to the front door where he quickly unlocked it. 
The living room was sparsely decorated, with an old brown couch in the center, a small television and a coffee table littered with cans and half finished drinks.
It completely lacked a homey vibe. Definitely felt like a typical bachelor pad. You nudged his shoulder. “I love what you’ve done with the place.”
“Hey, I’m not majoring in interior design.” Your brother shot back, beginning to walk away past the kitchen, calling out to you. “I’m gonna go to bed.”
Your eyebrows furrowed with a look of disappointment.  “Already? I thought we’d, like…. watch TV or something?”
“Next time don’t get such a late flight.” His face stretched into a yawn. “There’s plenty of blankets in the closet. Try not to make too much noise.” Disappearing behind the door of his bedroom, he left you standing in the room alone with your bags.
Time for bed I guess. 
You sprawled yourself out on the couch, placing a pillow on the armrest, and rolled out the fuzzy blanket you’d found over your body. You turned to face the front door. The room was pitch black, with a few beams of moonlight split up by the venetian blinds.
You picked up your phone from the coffee table by your side, figuring you could watch a few videos before you fell asleep.
The screen lit up, temporarily blinding you before your eyes adjusted. Mindlessly, you scrolled through youtube to find a thumbnail that would spark any interest.
You were about to click one, when you heard someone at the front door. Your eyes widened briefly, and you quickly shut your phone off. You don’t know why. It wasn’t like you were a kid and your mom was coming into your room to see if you were actually asleep. But it felt like you needed to shut your eyes.
So you did.
The door opened slowly, whoever it was trying to remain undetected. 
However, the scent that followed gave them away immediately. You actually had to stop yourself from reacting. It was a mixture of BO, dirt, and something else. Something dead.
Without even having to look, you knew it was Toby.
Footsteps, careful and calculated. The floorboards creaking. 
You waited for him to walk by, expecting him to go to his room so you could continue playing on your phone.
But he didn’t.
The movements stopped halfway through, and you heard him, on the balls of his feet, making his way over to the couch you were on.
The fuck?
You felt your throat dry up. You wanted to swallow down your nerves, but you couldn’t react. You had to continue pretending, right?
You could hear him, his voice low and soft, like velvet. A boyish tone, the occasional word being broken up by some kind of stutter, muttering things you couldn’t make out.
He stopped when he got to your side, standing right in front of your face. 
If you opened your eyes right now you’d probably see him peering down. His jeans dirty and torn, honey brown stare filled with curiosity, looking at the glimpses of your curves that peaked through the blanket on top of you.
A hand reached out. 
Cold, yet somehow clammy… texture rough and calloused. 
He was touching you. 
He was touching your face.
Don’t move. Don’t you dare even flinch.
“M-must be the ssss-sister…”
That was the first clear sentence you could understand.
He retracted his hand. But you could still hear him, the heavy breathing. 
His whispering.
“Soft”
Then he left.
Only afterwards did you realize you’d been holding your breath.
______________________________________________________________
“You look awful.” Your brother commented when he saw you the next morning.
It was true that you barely slept that night, made obvious by the bags under your eyes, and the change in your complexion. The interaction with the stranger, the one you’d been warned of,  had plagued your mind, stirring up thoughts that kept you awake. 
You grabbed a coffee mug, pouring yourself a glass, before joining your brother at the kitchen table.
From this angle, you had a clear view of the hallway. There were three doors, one must have led to the bathroom, and the other remaining two were the bedrooms. 
You only stared at one of the doors though. The one leading to Toby’s room. 
You knew, at some point he’d emerge and you’d finally be able to put a face to the name. A face to the hand that touched you.
For a moment, you wondered if you should tell your brother what happened. He’d probably flip out, maybe even confront the man. 
So, despite your better judgment, you decided to keep it to yourself. 
He only touched your face. Sure, it was creepy as hell, but you didn’t want to cause a fight during your vacation.
Your brother clapped his hands together, getting your attention. 
“So listen!” He grinned widely. “We gotta plan out the strategy for tonight.”
“Strategy?” You asked hesitantly.
“Yeah strategy. There’s a party I want to go to. Kappa Alpha is hosting it.” 
You tsked, sipping your coffee. “You realize I don’t know anything about the frats here. Is that like… a popular one or?”
He nodded. “Yeah it is. I’ve been trying to get into this one for a while now, so getting the invite is a big deal.”
You frowned. You were already so tired, and the idea of going to a kegger was not exactly on your ‘to do’ list. But it was important to him. So you complied.
“Okay. What time does it-”
A door opened. You stopped talking.
Your eyes widened to look over towards the sound. 
Toby was up.
The first thing you noticed was a mop of dark brown hair, unkempt, with curls that went in every direction. It was slightly greasy too, he clearly hadn’t showered in a while. There was light stubble on his jawline, and his skin was a sickly, almost gray color. A snake bite graced his lower lip, and there were a few more pieces of metal sticking out the cartilage of his ears.
He shuffled forward, looking tired, still in a pair of plaid green pajama bottoms and a t-shirt with little alien faces on them.
Once he made it into the kitchen, Toby finally glanced over. You looked away immediately, embarrassed that you were caught staring.
He was handsome. You hated to admit it. But he was. You pushed the thought out of your head, reminding yourself of who he was.
“Muh-morning….” He croaked out.
Your brother gave a little nod, just enough to acknowledge him, turning back to you while Toby started toasting a poptart.
“It starts at 9, but we should show up at 10 o'clock. I don’t want to look too eager.”
“Whuh-what starts at 9?” Toby interjected.
Both you and your brother looked at him, before nervously meeting each other's gaze.
“Oh uh!” Your brother stammered. “Just another party.” He motioned over to you with his thumb. “This is my sister, (Y/N), by the way.”
Toby’s eyes bore into yours. You swallowed, trying to give him a polite, reassuring smile.
“Nice to meet you…. Toby, right?” 
You acted unsure. Like you didn’t know his name by heart. Like you hadn’t had your brother vent to you about him for hours over the phone. 
“Yuh-yeah. That’s right.” He looked back at your brother. “Is the puh-party tonight?”
“Yeah it’s at a frat house. Did you…” He hesitated, before finally asking him. “Want to come?”
Toby bit his poptart, shrugging his shoulders. “I've guh-got nothing better tuh-to do.” The twitching man looked back at you, wiping some crumbs from his lip. He didn’t have emotion behind his eyes, just a weird intense focus on your face.
You pretended to be unbothered. 
It didn’t work.
He noticed.
And he liked the way you squirmed.
______________________________________________________________
Toby stayed in his room the rest of the day. Occasionally going into the kitchen, grabbing a snack, usually some kind of junk food, before he’d scurry back into his little cave.
You started getting ready as soon as the sun went down. It’d been a while since you’d been to a party and you wanted to look your best. Or look like you got a full 8 hours of sleep at the very least.
Toby said he’d meet you guys there. Saying something about how he needed ‘to take care of something first’. No one questioned him. Both you and your brother glad not to have to share a car ride with him.
Loud bumping music, the kind that shook a house and pounded in your chest, enveloped you when you walked inside the frat house. 
Flashing lights, a crowd in the middle of the dancefloor jumping up and down. The air was hot from too many people in a room at once. You could barely move through them all to get to the bar.
God you were going to need a drink to get through this.
Maybe even a couple.
Especially after your brother left you alone to go mingle.
One tequila shot, then two maybe three rum and cokes later. You didn’t even know how long you’d been there. Time seemed to freeze. There was only the music, only the dancing, only the bodies moving against you.
You felt hot. Your cheeks burned, and it wasn’t just from the temperature of the room anymore. The room spinned a little when you walked forward. Not enough to consider yourself completely wasted though. But enough to feel…. Friendlier.
More social.
Less inhibited. 
Numb.
After a lot of struggling, you made your way to the back of the room. 
You leaned against a wall, catching your breath, holding a red solo cup in your hand.  You could hear people trying to hold conversations by shouting over the music. 
And there were plenty of people making out. In fact, you’d say the majority of people were just straight up groping each other.
It made you a little jealous if you were being honest with yourself.
You looked around, wondering if maybe you could find someone cute. You didn’t intend on getting lucky or anything, but it would sure beat just standing there like an idiot. When was the last time you even kissed somebody?
Finally, you locked on to someone across the room. Someone with honey brown eyes. Someone familiar.
Toby.
He grinned when your eyes met. It was the first time you’d seen him do that. Large toothy canine’s, that bandage on his cheek shifting slightly. 
Oh god you felt your heart flutter.
You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. There was something wrong with him. Your brother didn’t like him. Nobody did.
He creeped you out.
He didn’t shower. 
He smelled like death. 
You listed the reasons out, and damn if there weren’t a lot of them. But in the end it didn’t matter. In the end, it was painfully, woefully, obvious what was going to happen.
And you were already walking over there.
You slithered over to his side, sweating, peering up at him through your eyelashes. Trying to look cute. Desirable.
It was working. 
He could’ve eaten you up if you gave him the chance. 
But you didn’t know that.
You fiddled with the end of your skirt, the jacket you originally wore tied around your waist. A flush on your cheeks, you let your hand gently touch his shoulder.
“H-hey… glad to see you made it.”
He tilted his head to the side, leaning down to hear you better. It made your stomach stir with excitement, he made you feel small kneeling down like that. But you liked it. Liked that he was paying attention to you, and only you.
“Whuh-what did you say?” His breath was hot on your cheek. Using the loud music as an excuse to get closer, to touch your skin. Making the hair on your neck stick up.
You breathed heavily in his ear on purpose. “I said, I’m glad you made it.”
Toby’s lips parted, not responding at first, but not moving away either. “Oh? Yuh-yeah?” He sounded amused, voice lowering an octave. “Excited to suh-see little ole’ muh-me?” 
It was kind of a stupid, cheesy thing to say. Like he didn’t really know how to flirt, but maybe saw a couple movies and memorized the lines. But it somehow worked for him.
“Oh, I’m sure nothing about you is little.”
Why did you say that?
Why?
It just came out naturally. Oh god, now your face felt flushed from embarrassment.
You felt him touch the side of your face. He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest, it sounded heavenly.
“Yuh-you know, I’m having trouble huh-hearing you.” He paused looking around, making sure no one was watching. You wondered why. 
“Do you want to go somewhere more private?”
That was enough to make heat travel between your thighs. 
Fuck. 
One meek nod from you was all he needed, before grabbing your wrist tightly.
Too tight, like he was unaware he could hurt you. Or maybe he liked causing a little pain?
He dragged you upstairs, practically lifting you with one arm, you felt like you were gliding over the steps. The muscles of his arms barely flexing under that hoodie of his, as if you were weightless.
He was strong. 
You both traveled through the hallway, careful not to bump into anyone loitering in the hall. Some of the other party goers shooting you looks, but they were mostly directed towards Toby. They weren’t judging you or anything. In fact, they looked worried, maybe even a little scared. You started to wonder more about him. What was his reputation like if this was everyone’s reaction to him? Or perhaps he really just looked that scary. 
So why did he turn you on? 
He pushed you into an unoccupied room and flicked the light switch on.
You barely registered him locking the door behind him.
With one shove of his palm he pushed you backwards onto the bed. Your arms flailed a bit out of instinct, falling down on the mattress with an ‘oof’.
You swallowed thickly, watching him eye the way your legs had parted slightly. Your skirt hiking up dangerously on your thighs. You had to fight the urge to close them.
“Yuh-you look scared.” That velvet, sweet, voice of his was twisted by something sick. 
“Are you?” His head cocked to the side, a wolfish grin on his face.
“Yes.” Was your reply. You didn’t feel like you could lie to him now. Feeling too exposed to even think straight.
He licked his lips, slowly approaching you. His fingers danced across your shoulders, traveling down your arms, sending goosebumps down your spine. They were cold and calloused, just like you remembered from the night before. 
“Then whuh-why did you follow me here?” He cupped the side of your face, his thumb grazing across your bottom lip. You were going to respond, but he quickly shoved his finger in your mouth, gagging you. He wanted you to suck on them, but he didn’t communicate that well. “Why duh-did you….approach me?”
You let your tongue glide over his finger. His eyes narrowed, watching your face, before he started talking to himself. “Fuckin’ stuh-stupid.”
You paused. Was he talking about you? 
“Should be whuh-working tonight…” He muttered. “Target just downstairs…. Ssss-so easy…this better be worth it…..” Toby chuckled to himself like he just told a joke.
You didn’t understand what was going on. Should you just ignore him and continue? 
Toby retracted his hand from your mouth.
“Sss-so pretty….” He pushed your back onto the bed, crawling over you, his broad chest heaving, face pink and eyes lidded. Pupils dilated with lust. “So…. suh-soft….(Y/N)....” 
You shivered when he said your name like that, feeling your panties dampen even more than before. Especially when he started running a large hand up your inner thigh.
You let out a shaky breath.
“Yuh-you like it when I touch you…. I know you do…” Your eyes flickered down at him, letting him continue his ramblings, Toby’s face breaking into another evil looking smile. “Luh-letting me touch you last nuh-night…. Pretending to be asleep.”
Your stomach dropped. You couldn’t hide it in your face, he fucking knew. 
He fucking knew the whole time. 
He burst out laughing at your expression. “Yuh-you’re still not even telling me to stuh-stop now!” Toby gripped your hip with one of his hands, lifting up the hem of your shirt with the other. 
Before you knew it, he tossed the fabric over to the corner. 
Your bra was next. 
In any other circumstances you might’ve found it cute, or funny, when he struggled with the clasp. But something told you pointing it out to him wouldn’t have been a good idea. 
He groaned at the sight of your exposed torso, immediately diving into your tits. Your nipples perked at the attention. 
He was right. You weren’t stopping him. Your body screamed at you to. The smell of dirt and grime, of all things dead and decaying, it permeated off of him the more he touched you.
Toby’s mouth latched on to your left breast, the other gripped tightly in his hand. You knew you’d have bruises there tomorrow. You didn’t care. 
He licked and nipped at the tender flesh, the swell of your tits heaving, your head thrown back and lips parted, letting out soft moans here and there.
A noticeable bulge grinded against your leg, as he huffed, humping himself against you like a dog. 
After a while, he finally lifted his head up. 
Toby looked you in the eye, grinning, licking your nipple teasingly one last time, before his attention moved to your skirt. 
His hands searched your sides for a zipper, he grunted out of irritation when he couldn’t find it immediately. 
You took the opportunity to gently put a hand over his, guiding it to where it was. “Here.” You said softly. “Let me help you.”
His eyes snapped up to your face when you touched him. 
Immediately, his lips crashed onto yours. Needy, desperate, quickly shoving his tongue down your throat. You kissed back, swirling your tongue around his, ignoring the weird taste of metal coming from his mouth. His breath was hot and heavy, kisses sloppy. You doubted he got much practice, but he seemed to be learning quickly.
He made up for it with enthusiasm.
Finally pulling away, you both unzipped your skirt together. Lifting your hips off the bed, you shimmyed them down your legs, Toby watching in fascination.
“I’m guh-gonna fuck you.” He stated matter of factly. Then he whispered something that made your blood run cold. 
“...Fuck you bloody.”
Shit this guy was scary.
In a few seconds, he ripped his hoodie off, along with his shirt. His chest was heavily scarred, a noticeable slash starting from his left side over to his shoulder, and a dark happy trail rising up from the waistband of his jeans.
You didn’t comment on it, but it was worrisome. You could only imagine what would cause someone to get hurt so badly and so often.
That said, Toby was definitely toned. A bit sickly looking, but his muscles had just a hint of a six pack formed. Maybe he did more exercise than you initially thought. 
He kicked off his jeans next, unceremoniously pulling his boxers down, revealing himself to you. Lazily, he stroked himself, a thick layer of precum smearing down his shaft. It was long, veiny, but not very girthy. A flushed red tip, looking painfully hard.
You pulled down your panties slowly, already soaked, and ready. The anticipation was killing you, but you wanted to make him wait for it. His Adam's apple bobbed watching you, and you liked reveling in his stares.
“Guh-gonna split you in two…” Toby murmured, to no one in particular.
He hooked his arm under one of your legs, his body shivering with need, pulling your hips against him. He glided his shaft over your cunt, rubbing your clit slowly. He noticed you tense, how you whimpered slightly, and how your slick covered him more at the action. Looking in awe like it was some revelation to him.
Toby licked his lips, before finally enveloping himself in your heat. 
It was quick. Like he was slamming a drawer shut, but he immediately bottomed out. You gritted your teeth in pain, before crying out when he started viciously pounding into you. 
It fucking hurt. It hurt a lot.
“Shit..! Tuh-tight!”
Obviously, your muscles had tensed around him, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden fullness of his cock stuffing you. Unable to adjust.
You whimpered when he didn’t let up, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. A dull ache between your legs as he continued thrusting. The wet sound of skin slapping together coming from where the two of you were joined, burying his face in your neck, breathing in your scent.
Toby inhaled sharply, before you felt his mouth open wide.
Teeth broke through your skin instantly, a warm liquid dripping down your neck.
You screamed.
You screamed louder than you ever have in your life.
You screamed bloody fucking murder.
“Toby!” Clawing at his back, trying to get him to stop, you started crying. “Toby! Please!”
Luckily for you, he released his jaw to call out “(Y-Y/N)!” Not understanding your cries weren’t from pleasure.
It egged him on, encouraged him. His pelvis slamming into yours, with no let up, your tits bouncing at the force. Itching his fingers to your clit, he rubbed it in harsh circular movements, making you tighten around him.
You babbled nonsense. Finally some of the pain subsiding for pleasure, and maybe it was the lingering effects of alcohol, or the slight blood loss, but you felt a buzzing in your head. Basically incoherent, the faster he went. The brutal, bruising speed.
The way he gripped your breast, the way his hand remained on your pearl, trying his best to get you to finish, but not quite knowing how. 
Something started to build. 
More and more.
Hearing him growl, pant, like an animal. It was doing something to you.
You moaned loudly, wrapping your legs around him. The coil snapping, muscle spasming, pulling his cock in deeper, triggering his own climax. 
His hips stuttered against you, letting out a gasp. A warmth filling you, Toby completely emptying himself inside with a deep groan, eyes rolling back in his head. 
He gave a few sloppy, slow thrusts, before finally rolling off, and onto the bed next to you.
His cum leaking out of your cunt and staining the sheets.
Everything went blank for a moment, realization only just settling in. The gravity of the situation, the blood on your neck.
And an arm wrapped around your shoulders, drawing you close.
“I knew you’d be worth the truh-trouble.”
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churipu · 4 months
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Idk if u take requests rn, but if you do, could you write fluffy moments with jjk men (pls include toji, i rlly wanna see him w fluff because there is like none) you fav would be cuddling, but you do whatever you want <3 Also, don't stress yourself when writing i, and please take breaks <33
JJK MEN + FLUFFY MOMENTS (๑ > ᴗ < ๑)
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featuring. toji fushiguro, gojo satoru, nanami kento x reader
warnings. jjk men being softies
note. i just read the most heart wrenching nanami fic, i think i'm not okay at all </3 but hi anon, thank you for requesting this — this is exactly what i needed after reading angst. i apologize if it took a long time to get this out omg, i hope you like it.
and guys, omg???? 700+ followers? i genuinely never expected my works to be recognized by so much, and meeting new writers here and there, making friends, makes me so happy (i'm not crying) i love u all so so so so much, u guys rock, ily all <;33
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TOJI FUSHIGURO
hated talking about the future, but ever since he met you — he rambles about it.
toji has always thought his future was nothing interesting, he kills people for a living, gets money off of it and he gambles. that's about it, so what was there to think about in the future?
meeting you was the firsts to a lot of things in his life.
toji grew up in a loveless household full of anger, and lust for power. which is why he is who he is today. distant, aloof, detached. people tell him he'd be nothing without his strength and face, there is no denying that toji fushiguro has a face card. he knows that.
so when he first met you, all he expected was like every other day. people caring about his face, and only that — and he'd play along although he's had enough of it, but no; you didn't care about all that.
face, money, strength. none of that.
he vaguely remembered the first time you spoke to him: "hey, mind helping me grab that box of cereal?" and he expected you to hit on him after, but you left it at that, muttering out a thanks and then leaving him in the aisle alone.
then for some reason he meets you again, the very next month. asking him the exact same thing, asking for help to take the cereal box which happened to be on the very top of the shelf. god knows why, both you and him just made it a routine every month after that. no communications about meeting and all. you both kind of just, met right in the cereal aisle on one particular day in the month, and then leave.
on the fifth month, he finally asks for your number.
"toji, is that your way of asking me out? because if it is, i'm disappointed."
"maybe."
and then you both kind of just sealed it; you're dating. nothing much changed, every month both you and him still go to the cereal aisle — he still helps you with grabbing the box from the shelf. the only difference was that now the two of you leave together.
toji hates talking about his future. but with you? he could go on for a whole day. he rambles about what he thinks and what he wants in the future with you.
"i wan' to get married. i wan' to marry you," did it caught you by surprise? yes. yes it did, "i wan' to have a family with you, a nice little family. i wan' to have a son so i could throw him around — but a girl is okay too, i can protect her from boys, i'll love them both equally. but i don't think i'll be a good dad to them. i'm scared they won't like me."
"toji, what? where did that come from?"
his back was pressed to your chest as you both lay down on the bed, one of your leg draped over his torso and he has his hand on your plush thigh, squeezing it every once in a while.
"i don't know. just a thought, i never talked about my future with anyone before," his body vibrated as he grunted, leaning his head back a bit, "i just don't think i'll be a good father, y'know?" he squeezed your thigh.
"why do you think so?" you asked him, placing your chin on the crown of his head.
"i just think so."
"stop thinking then," you chuckles, draping an arm around his neck, caressing his throat so softly it made the male shudder under your touch — but he didn't mind, he took comfort under your skin.
"can't." his voice was not stern or bold, it was soft and serene. he laced his fingers with yours, kissing your knuckles gently, "i can't believe 'm saying this, but 'm worried about my future. 'm a little scared."
just the fact he was admitting that he's scared about something was mind boggling, because the toji fushiguro? who kills people? was admitting that he was actually terrified of something, which wasn't even the strongest sorcerer. it's his future.
you were silent, letting him talk because when else would he be able to be like this?
"'m terrified. 'm scared i won't make you happy. what if i don't make you happy? what if my kids hate me?" so many questions that you don't even have the answer to, but you placed your hand over his lips, shutting him up.
toji grumbled, he swiped his tongue over your palm.
"ew!" you laugh, wiping your hand on his shirt, "but why're you suddenly talking about this all? which videos have you been watching again?"
"nothing, can't i think about my own future with you?" he shuffles, turning to face you, prepping an arm under his head as he stares down at you. not in the condescending way — he stared at you with so much desperation for love, he slowly blinks, the glint in his eyes never changing.
"why out of the blue?"
"jus' because."
you poked his cheek, "liar."
he sighs, latching his hand onto your hips, pulling you close. he buries his head into your shoulder in content, "jus' worried about it, i never think about my future in the past. but now — with you, i jus' worry about it because i didn't think i'd make it 'till now."
you chuckled, rubbing the back of his head lightly, "you remember that one time in the park when you see that little boy crying over spilled ice cream?"
he hums softly.
"and you bought him another ice cream, but asked me to be the one to give it to him because you were scared you'd scare him off instead?" you ask him, your fingers tangling with his hair lightly.
"yeah."
"you'll be fine, toji." you tell him.
"y'think so?" he retorts back, squirming a bit.
"i know so."
GOJO SATORU
he has to know about everything that you like, he needs to know why you like them. every. single. thing.
gojo chased after you. you were one tough cookie, he likes a chase. he's so used to people fawning over his looks that when you didn't — he just has to know your name.
the curiosity to know your name ended up pulling him in a spiral of this little thing called "love". gojo swore it was just curiosity, but everyone else besides him thinks otherwise, he promised himself and people around that he didn't like you, he was just, well, curious.
but curiosity doesn't look like that. gojo finds himself asking people about what type of boys you like, and when he finds out about it — he tries his best to be your type. he promised he was just curious.
gojo tries finding out what your favorite flower is, and when he finds out about it, he's out there sending big bouquets of it to you. he promised he was just curious.
gojo tries finding out what your favorite genre of music is, and when he finds out, he listens to them so he could talk about it with you. he promised he was just curious.
gojo tries finding out what your favorite series or movie is, and when he finds out, he watches them all intently so he could talk about them with you and hate on characters together with you. and he still promises that he was just curious.
he was just curious, he kept telling that to himself. so why does it bother him when you were out with another guy? another guy that's not him. not gojo satoru.
gojo asks you about who it was, and when you tell him it's nobody important, he gets upset about it.
"why are you so upset?"
"i'm just..curious."
"it's none of your business."
he left it at that. his whole week was ruined, he couldn't stop thinking about it. about you. and then he finally realizes, he wasn't curious — he was in love. so there he was, in front of your door at two in the morning.
"what?"
"who was that guy?"
"gojo, you're still onto that?" you ask him, tired, "i said it's none of your business. you're here at two just to ask me about that?"
"it's my business because i'm in love with you, damn it!"
gojo was half grateful when you told him it was your distant cousin, but half embarrassed as well. all's well ends well. he gets you in the end, and he doesn't have to worry about anything else — nothing in the world matters to him but you.
"baby, what do you recommend?" was one of the most spoken phrases he has delivered to you.
in restaurants, dessert bars, convenience store, movie theaters, anything you could recommend him, he'd ask for it.
"why do you always ask? don't you have your own preference, satoru? i'm not even sure if you'll like my recommendations though," he smiles at you, tracing small circled on the back of your hand.
"i want to know about everything that you like, and why you like them. i want to know everything about you," you look at him and smiled, honestly, what did we ever do to deserve him?
"why?"
"because i love you." yeah, he wasn't just curious. he's in love. and deep.
NANAMI KENTO
he always orders food that you like, and shares some with you — even if you didn't ask for it.
nanami never expected to be in relationships. in fact, relationships was the last thing in his mind — but when he met you, he just kind of felt attracted. he seeks for your comfort whenever he's tired, and when you weren't there, nanami just sort of drowns in himself until he could see you or hear your voice.
at the beginning of your relationship, nanami was never the one to initiate things because he wasn't an experienced male in relationships. you ask him and he just sort of do it without any other complaints.
but as time goes on, he get the hang of it. what he should do and what he shouldn't — it's adorable, he's started doing things that he never thought he would do in his life, but here he was sitting by your side; peeling apples for you because you wanted them.
"kento, eat some. it's going to be finished by the time you finish peeling every one of them," you joked, your legs on top of his thighs.
nanami hums softly, "it's okay. as long as you like it."
nanami doesn't realize the weigh of his sweet words sometimes, he does it and asks himself to why you were reacting like that. sweet talk is his vocabulary. he says it with no worries, telling you things you've always wanted to hear but never say.
but one thing that always stuck to him and you from the first time you got close up to now was: nanami always orders things that you like. you never understood the reason behind it, and when you tried asking him about it, he just tells you he was craving it.
it didn't seem odd at first — but as time goes on, his whole taste was just an exact copy of yours.
if you get something different than your usual menu, nanami will get your usual menu because he knows damn well that you're going to end up wanting them. although you don't tell him when the food comes, nanami makes it his job to share with you. and that's really sweet of him.
but when you get your usual menu, nanami orders something with elements that you like in them and shares them with you even without you asking for a bite. and not only that, he didn't share a spoonful — he shared a lot.
"ken, you don't have to share with me. i have my own food." you tell him, despite your heart tugging you to just let him share because you were too shy to say that you wanted a bite.
"it's alright sweetheart. i'm a little full." he lies. he ends up snacking on something on midnight, and it's now a routine.
so in exchange for that, you always make it your job to stock up foods ranging from small snacks like biscuits, chips, up to instant or pre-heated food. even cutting up fruits so nanami could snack on it, and he caught on to it pretty quick.
but he didn't complain, he likes it when you do it.
"ken, i cut out some mangoes and dragon fruit. you can eat them if you're hungry."
"thank you y/n."
mutual wins.
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© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
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cordeliawhohung · 4 months
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You created a monster in me with underboss!Simon and now you must take responsibility.
Please feed my new addiction with relationship headcanons 😩😩😩. I love him and Shy!reader.
i've created so many monsters y'all gotta stop biting at my ankles or at least start paying rent or smth <3 also i'm still trying to work out a lot of the dynamics of the relationship between them so this is still a little bare boned but i hope you enjoy!
mafia!141 masterlist <3
warnings: mostly fluff :3 simon is a bit of a prick lol, fem!reader,
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just in case anyone missed it, this is how underboss!Simon and shy!Reader meet <3
it takes a brutally long time for the two of you to start dating. a brutally long time.
and it isn't for lack of trying on Simon's end. he manages to get your number somehow (i hear Soap is very tech savvy...) and asks you out the week after the dinner at John's house, only for you to decline.
which is fine. he can take rejection. but this is... different. you're too kind when you say no. you're not saying it because you think you're too good for him, you're saying it because of something else, and Simon can tell the difference but can't exactly tell what it is.
it drives him nuts for a long time. you were supposed to be just another number in his phone for a booty call. he's used to getting pretty much anything he wants, after all, but even then it shouldn't have bugged him as much as it did. maybe it was because he liked the way you looked at him. not with disgust. not with some lustful intention. you were... soft. kind, even.
as for you? you think it's crazy how this 6'4", ripped, and kind guy showed interest in you. you, someone too anxious for her own good, someone who said no because it was less scary than committing to something. and you hate yourself for rejecting him.
so in an effort to stay close to him, you text him pretty often. you send him pictures of things you see or run into during your day. something funny at work, a cool rock you found in someone's garden, the spider that decided to make its home in your shower. and sweetheart, you have no idea what you're doing to the poor man ):
this goes on for a long while. just simon being a stupid man, not wanting to push your boundaries after you already rejected him, and you being too anxious to fix things and ask him yourself.
eventually, by some miracle (that i might write more about later because like i said BARE BONES) the two of you get together. and it's... interesting. simon isn't really used to dating. like properly. he's used to buttering a girl up, going back to her place for a quick fuck, and then only seeing her whenever either of them are too bored and horny to function. but with you it's nothing like that at all. there's no sex on the first date, not even a damn kiss, and he finds himself craving you more than ever because of it. wanting to be around you all the time, wanting to hear about your day.
man is fucking obsessed.
he treats you like a princess. he only ever really spent his money on stupid shit but now he can spend it on you! you never ask for anything, but god forbid if you express that anything, be it clothes or otherwise, looks cute because he will buy it for you, no matter how awkward you are at receiving gifts.
also! because he's so big and somewhat brutish, no one fucks with you when you're in public together. annoying kiosk clerks trying to aggressively sell you something? one look from him and they're gone. someone messed up your order but you're too anxious to ask them to fix it? he's advocating for you.
because of him, you find yourself growing less afraid and anxious of things. he teaches you how to be brave, and you teach him how to be soft. there's nothing in the world that he wouldn't do for you <3
oh also btw he's in the mafia. he might have forgotten to mention that... hope that doesn't freak you out or anything. don't worry about the blood on his shirt or the bruises on his face or the cuts on his arms or... oh god you look like you're going to cry. it's nothing, sweetheart! promise! stop trying to take him to the hospital!
also, some sorta unrelated comments: i think shy!reader is def a hostess at a restaurant. i feel like simon would hang out at the restaurant too just to be around you. he'd also slip you a tip, even though you tell him you make hourly and don't depend on tips.
"consider it my way of saying thanks for sitting us at the table with the best view."
the view is you, btw.
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AHHH i'm sorry this was such a mess? i have so many jumbled thoughts but i'm glad i was able to get some of them out and i hope they were somewhat enjoyable al;kdjf i'll be working on a short drabble/oneshot for him over the weekend, so i'm hoping that'll make up for this <3
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chailovesu · 5 months
Text
Random things u can add to your script if you are manifesting being famous
i think ima separate this into careers
model:
being on the cover of magazines
always knowing when a camera is on you + never have awkward pictures get popular
being considered one of the best new gen models and one of the best of all time
being signed to desired company
being the muse of a very famous designer
very photogenic/videogenic
have an iconic walk that everyone loves
you could be wearing something absolutely hideous but make it look good
singer/rapper:
every single song u make blows up on every platform
kind of rapper/singer that once u feature on a song its ur song now
if u cover a song the cover gets more famous bc it sounds better
popular dance trend being made to your songs
immunity to getting sued for copying a song
perfect stage presence
be able to dance and sing/rap at the same time
constantly be nominated for awards and win
any song u make constantly goes platinum and charts for months
having a song featured in a popular tv show/movie
be good at taking selcas and they always go viral on pinterest
easily hit high notes
unreleased music never gets leaked
being talented on a beyonce level
be invited to perform at places like the superbowl and coachella
be able to write ur own songs with unique lyrics
game streamer:
clips of u playing always go viral
have a connection with your subscribers + be everyones comfort streamer but not in a forced way
be really good at the games u play effortlessly and look good while playing
having merch that always get sold out
being seen as the main streamer for desired games
be entertaining to watch + funny things always happen on stream
subscribers always donate alot of money and give you gifts
collab with other famous streamers + everyone enjoys playing with you
have access to unreleased games early
have partnerships with really big brands
be gifted free games often by companies for promotions
people know u by face AND voice
if u wanna be a faceless streamer at first your face reveal blows up (in a good way not the dream way) and ur subscribers double bc of it
actor/actress:
being fancasted for your favorite cartoon character so much that u act in the live action version of it
always get paid a lot for your roles
have chemistry with your co-workers
be good at all type of acting (voice acting too)
easily attract roles
never get hate for the roles u act
always get awards for your acting
easily be able to do things like cry on command + be able to make your audience feel the emotion through the screen
be a very versatile actor like your range is crazy
applies to all:
seeing edits of yourself by talented editors often
pristine reputation + never being canceled
being that one celebrity that everyone defends like their life depends on it
Immunity to weird ppl finding out abt u
being likable in general any hate you receive just feels so forced
being alot of celebrities ideal type
being everyones celebrity crush
never having your xxxx exposed (or revise never taking any)
eye contact with u makes interviewers nervous like that one jhene aiko clip
people from your past only have good things to say + other celebrities love meeting you and only have good impressions of you
this one applies to acting and singing and modeling but being a highly sought-after person in that field
a fortnite skin? or being featured in your favorite game
still being safe going in public alone + fans respect your privacy
and if ur manifesting being a nepo baby
everyone supports you
in your childhood u were featured in alot of movies/shows (or just in the spotlight often) so people feel like they watched you grow up and adore u
being more famous than your parents + people feel like even if ur parents weren't famous u still would've gotten famous
having famous childhood friends
if i think of more ideas or careers ill make a pt2 but thats probably unlikely idk yet
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feninina · 8 months
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𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐞 ༉‧₊˚.⁀➷
therapist! jonathan crane x female reader.
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: when your father decided that you needed therapy, taking you to his dear friend dr. crane to treat and help you, you thought it wouldn't work at all, but it turned out to be everything you needed.
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: SMUT(minors dni!!), noncon/dubcon, depression, cursing, crane is a mysoginistic prick, using therapy for unhinged reasons, smut, hair pulling, jonathan just being an creep, choking AND strangulation, dacryphilia, hitting, unprotected sex (safe sex its great sex!!), breeding kink, forced breeding, power dynamics, i think crane should be a warning himself, reader being borderline stupid and naive. also this has a lot of backstory i’m so sorry i got carried away lol.
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 7.1K
𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: omg my first fic on here!! this is also my first work on english and my first smut ever so i apologise in advance for any mistake!! i hope y'all enjoy it anyways ahahahaha live laugh love jonathan crane👏🏻 feedback its very appreciated so i can improve and continue to publish better works, anyways enjoyyyy 💓
𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁
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It was awkward, to say the least.
You were sitting across from Doctor Crane in the couch at your dad's house, legs crossed as you watched him write on his clipboard, something about it making you feel anxious, a little nauseous, even.
This wasn't your first session, you started doing this four months ago, not long after your divorce that caused you to fall into a spiral of sadness and misery. Your failed— and short marriage was the main reason you started taking therapy with your dad's friend, the chief of Arkham, Jonathan Crane, and still, you couldn't bring yourself to talk about it.
He was patient, you told him several times that he was a saint. Regardless, before you started with the sessions, he explained to your dad that he didn't really do this; therapy really wasn't his strong suit, but for a friend, a desperate one, he would gladly do it.
Your dad came to him, offering a big stack of money if he would talk to his little girl, make her recover her once joyful personality, like you had one to begin with. Jonathan really couldn't say no, and not really because of the money, he had other reasons in mind, unethical reasons.
And there you were now. You were quick to open up to him, eager to talk, to be listened and he, on the other hand, was ready to listen, to give you advice, console you and help you get through the sorrow that was following you since you were young, playing the role of your knight in shinning armor.
"I can't believe you don't actually do this" you said once, sniffling your nose with a handkerchief he gave you as he examined you with a warm gaze, an empathetic grin on his face. "You're really helping me"
Jonathan was quick to wave his hand and tell you that it wasn't a big deal, that he was just doing his job, and if you weren't so innocent, so stupid, you would have noticed the mischievous sparkle that flickered in his eyes for a split second.
You were landing right in the palm of his hand.
Not even thirty minutes into the first session you told him everything about your past; every little thing you thought he needed to know to treat you. And you were slightly right; he did need to know those things, but not to treat you, just to manipulate you and mold your little brain into what he was envisioning for you and your future together.
Truth was, you hated everything about your life, regardless of the fact that you had everything. That's what you've been told since you were a child; a big house, a lot of money, maids taking care of you so you wouldn't have to move a finger and just sit pretty and relax inside the walls of the huge mansion that confined you since you could recall.
You have everything. That was bullshit.
Sometimes, you couldn't help but think that people told you that out of pity, like they knew how miserable you felt, but not daring to say a word about it. Your dad was a powerful man, and you were aware of that, ever since you were born, he had bussines with Falcone and you knew that people feared him, he practically ruled Gotham, that lifeless and dangerous city that you had to live in.
You have everything. You were tired of that sentence. You didn't care at all about these nice things surrounding you, those dresses in your closet, those diamonds in your jeweler, that fancy car you owned since your eighteenth birthday, no, that was useless in your eyes, because all you really wanted, was love.
It was a lonely life; you learned how to do everything by yourself, how to comb your hair, how to deal with your period when it first came, how to dress up properly and do your makeup. You didn't even had to learn about boy problems because there weren't any boys in your life, you were homeschooled. So you were quiet, not really having to talk at all, there was nobody to talk to.
And since Jonathan was the only person you were talking to at the moment, you started to feel like you loved him, the idea sitting right with you without you even knowing it, thinking that this was how therapy normally went.
Loneliness striked your life at a young age; your mother died from a strange disease when you were eight, leaving you with a shattered heart thad bled everytime you walked past her bedroom, or saw a picture of her. You practically watched her die, a witness of how she lost her strength, how her once beautiful skin turned pale and yellow, and lost every little spark within herself, and the worst part was that all the money you had, couldn't even help her.
It was a deep wound that you carried with yourself, with nobody to talk about it.
Your father spent his days locked up in his office, and when he wasn't there, he was out in the city doing unthinkable things that you didn't even wanted to know about, leaving you on your own, having to fill all of those silent and empty rooms by yourself, with nobody to laugh with, nobody to hold you and see you grow. He wasn't really around, working all the time, too busy to know that his daughter didn't seem to care about all the expensive stuff he bought for her, not even taking the time to have dinner with you or hold a simple conversation. He loved you, you knew that, he just wasn't the type to show his affection with words or actions, but with gifts. And you hated everything about it.
But now, Jonathan was there, making you feel listened, finally saving you from falling into loneliness again. Your whole life, you thought you had a horrible sickness, that you were doomed to this awful destiny of sorrow and silence, but now, with his sweet words and good company, you couldn't be more than relieved.
You wished sometimes that you met him earlier, that this whole therapy stuff started before, and you even confessed it to him. And it irked him a little, that you didn't even remember how you two really met each other, hiding his annoyance with a warm smile.
Some months ago, your father started to brought you to parties he attended, parties were all the corrupts scumbags from Gotham reunited and celebrated how they were dragging the city to the gates of hell on their benefit, and you couldn't be more happy to attend them. You knew he was bringing you because he recently broke up with the young girl he carried with him— that was most likely your age, and needed a pretty thing to hang of his arm and take care of the people he didn't feel like talking to.
So you accepted this new life, eating up this role of socialite like it was made for you.
It was a chance to know people, to speak and make new friends, but you learned quickly that those people weren't there for that, and picked up on how mostly of the people who talked to you just wanted to climb up the social ladder and gain some extra points from your father.
He, even, introduced you to a couple of people that seemed close to your age, and you chatted with them, feeling extremely anxious because you weren't used to this, so it was weird to them seeing such a pretty woman, with your status and fortune, acting so shy and quiet in a place that your dad practically owned.
After a couple of hours, you learned the agenda. All you had to do was put on a fake smile, get them off your father's shoulders and pretend you were very interested in what they had to say, hiding your uncomfortable expression behind your glass of champagne, promising them that you would arrange a reunion with your father someday.
One of those nights, your father introduced you to someone, someone who you didn't pay much attention because he seemed to be uninterested too, only being there for the sake of his job.
"Pretty girl, come here" your father said, a cheerful tone of voice as grabbed you by the shoulder to get your attention, snapping you out of your train of thoughts. "I want you to meet my friend, Doctor Crane"
You looked at the man in front of your dad, his pale blue eyes already sizing you up discretely, looking at you up and down in a way that didn't go unnoticed by you, a shiver running down your spine as his eyes finally locked with yours.
You couldn't help but feel small under his gaze, your glass now forgotten in your left hand, the right one extended to take his and stretch it for a quick second, returning to your first position, his expression remaining serious.
"Nice to meet you" he spoke, his voice sounding like velvet in your eyes, not quite sensing the undertone behind it. "Your father told me wonders about you"
You grin, the irony of that sentence making you laugh a little, what wonders could your father know about you? But you kept your composure, the conversation not going any further, and you forgot about him fast enough, when in another of those annoying parties you met the love of your life — or so you thought.
That same night, when you went back home, you were thinking about spending the rest of your life with some guy that flirted with you at the bar, and Jonathan, prayed to whatever thing listening to him up there, that crossed your path with his again.
He practically obsessed with you, because it felt right. You were young, beautiful, wealthy and had a last name that could open even more doors for him, getting tired of saving Falcone's man of going to jail; you were an opportunity, tied to a nice pair of legs.
After a few weeks of stalking, it kinda broke his heart that naive as he expected you, you got married to the guy from the party; he told you then his name was Lewis, and now you doubted it that was even true.
You were finally going to get what you always wished for, a family, love. And it was perfect. Everything was perfect.
It was a dream that you were living in. A dream that shattered in front of you no longer than three months after.
After you contracted married with this man, you took care of the house, now learning all of these housewife duties that you didn't know anything about, but making your best effort to please him, to be the perfect woman ever created, departing from your old life and habits and adjusting them to his own.
You couldn't be more happy, regardless of your bad cooking, the bad-swiped floor and the half-done bed that welcomed you both every night, you finally had love.
It lasted three months. Your wholesome real life fantasy of a marriage destroyed when you found out, accidentally, that this man was just an employee of your dad, willing to get a promotion if he married you. At that moment, you didn't know who you hated more, if the bastard, or your dad who was literally bribing the bastard to love you.
But your dad only wanted to make you happy, tho.
You were embarrassed, not quite sure of how to tell this to Jonathan, because after all, he was there for you, just for the money your dad was paying him. Your cursed the day your dad became rich, because all of it was making you miserable and it felt like it wasn't going to stop.
At this point, a feeling of despite against you was growing within Jonathan, after a few weeks treating you, he quickly remembered why he didn’t chose this path of career, but remembering that he was there because of a major reason; a reason more important than your helpless cries for attention.
He was sick of you, all you ever did was complain in the commodity of your million dollar house, unaware that there were more important problems in the world. It isn’t completely your fault, Jonathan thought one day, you were just an ungrateful brat, and his work was to tame you, and he planned to do just that today.
"So," he startled you, narrowing his eyebrows, an expression in his face that you could only understand as concern. "remember, if you don't speak, I can't help you".
You chuckle and shift your weight in the chair, immediately feeling your eyes fill up with tears as you confronted the fact that you had to speak about it, right now. He was quick to offer you his handkerchief, as he always did and with shaky hands you took it, sniffling onto it, closing your eyes as you felt your whole body shake with each one of your cries.
You felt Jonathan put his hand on your knee, softy caressing the skin that his thumb could reach, opening your eyes and looking at his, Jonathan welcoming you with a pitying look. You put the tissue aside, both him being so close and his scent impregnated on the piece of fabric making you feel a little giddy, a little confused.
Why was your heart racing so much? He was your therapist, here to talk about your former husband.
Jonathan couldn't help but grin a little, knowing he was maybe breaking a rule here, touching you like this, being so close. He couldn't care less, after all, he wasn't here listening to you cry and bitch about your whole life for the sake of your well-being. He was here because he wanted you to break and get on your knees to him. Figuratively and literally.
"It's so embarrassing" you struggled to spit out "He didn't even love me, Doctor"
He hummed, dragging his chair so he was a little closer to you, you looked at him through your teary lashes and tried to keep it together, this wasn't the first time you cried in front of him, but the reason itself was enough to make you feel full of shame.
He didn't say anything, this being a motivation for you to continue.
"My dad was paying him" you murmured, cleaning the mascara off your cheeks. "It was all a lie"
The whole situation was absurd, what happened to you still felt like a sick joke they were playing on you, your dad and Lewis, probably waiting for the perfect moment to tell you the truth.
But that wasn't going to happen, right now the only thing that felt true to you was Jonathan. He set you up to that, and you blindly fell on his silly trap.
"Poor thing" he cooed you, moving his hand a little further up your thigh, noticing the goosebumps on your skin. A mastermind, that's how he felt. "How could they?"
That was all the mendacity he fed you with since you started seeing him, making you believe he was actually empathizing with you, full of loathe against everyone who hurt you, who dared to leave you alone, but now he was there, his task being to pretend to care.
"It's pathetic" you blurted out, leaning into his touch when his prying hand went up to your cheek. You really couldn't say anything more, crying against his hand like it was something you did every monday morning. "I'm so sad. I don't know what to do"
He shook his face, your eyes meeting his with a confused expression, black stained tears dropping on your lap and wetting his hand before he returned it and looked over his clipboard, pretending to think.
You were so vulnerable, ready for him to destroy. He finally got you where he wanted. He then explained you that you were so sad that it made you unaware of a lot of things, blinded by your own pity against yourself that every door that opened, you closed. It all came down to a thing; you needed a diagnosis.
He gave you a moment to process the information, ready to continue with his plan.
"Actually," he started, his tone now more firm, more strict, the one he used when you were approaching the end of the session. On the last one, he recommended you to touch yourself, to liberate oxytocin on your brain or something you really didn't understood.
It was almost evil from his side, he knew that your only thought while doing it would he him ordering you to do so.
"I'm sorry to be the bearer of such awful news, Y/N" he stated, making your heart skip a beat. "But I think you're sick"
You nearly gasped, the air got stuck in your throat, more tears gathering in your eyes. You lifted one of your hands to your chest, a million thoughts crossing your head as Jonathan's clever eyes examined your expression.
Bingo.
"Sick" you repeated after a moment, almost like you were making peace with the revelation. "How sick?"
It was an innocent question, your tone of voice shaking as your inferior lip trembled, holding it with your teeth in an attempt to not burst into tears again, your whole body feeling like it was going to break into a million peaces by how much you were shaking in the couch.
Jonathan was quick, standing from the chair he was on and taking a seat by your side, his hand swiftly placing in your knee. You looked at him confused, he never got this close, maybe your sickness was serious.
"What am I, Doctor?" you whispered, your eyes showing him a hint of fear that made him finally lose all his faked professionalism. "Depressed? Crazy?"
Both of you were dying of anticipation now; meanwhile you feared that you were going to get admitted to Arkham, Jonathan was seeing the golden ticket to the best future he could ever achieve, and all thanks to you.
"Oh, no, no" he purred, his hand making its way up to your thigh. "You're sick, not crazy"
You parted your lips as his hand moved more further, not really sure of what was happening, not daring to stop him, too scared of your mental health to think about anything else, not helping the way your legs started to part too.
A sudden gasp left your lips as his hand squeezed your tight, a smile you never saw on him appearing on his face. The crying stopped a moment ago, the surprise of having him so close making you go a little numb.
"I know what a girl like you needs" he said, almost sternly, like his hand wasn't centimeters away from your panties.
Was in that moment, that you knew this wasn’t about therapy anymore.
"You think so?" you whispered, your voice still shaky, but now for a whole different reason. "And what is it, Doctor?"
"To be fucked stupid"
It almost shocked you how he said that as it was a normal diagnosis, like he gave you a name of a medicine you could go and buy at any drugstore in town. You gulped and didn't move when his grip tightened on your leg, your face growing red.
A loud gasp escaped your lips when at your lack of response, Jonathan grabbed you hard by the jaw and forced you to look at him. Your eyes glistened with nothing but fear, your brows narrowing as you mumbled something that he really couldn't understand, and it wasn't like he wanted to.
"You're sick, Y/N" he repeated, more harshly this time, his hand moving your head as he spoke. "And I'm going to cure you"
He let go of your face to clasp his lips against yours, a kiss very far away from sweet, his mouth moving roughly against yours. You never had been kissed like this, so you tried to play it along, trying to show him some of the love you felt for him, that you thought you owed him.
But he didn't care if you felt loved during the kiss, trying to assert the dominance he held upon you, his hand now holding firmly the back of you neck to prevent you from pulling away.
It was a mess; your teeth clashed, drool was dripping from your chin as his tongue explored every space of your mouth, not leaving anywhere of it untouched. Your movements were a little stiff, unsure of what to do, trying to provide the sweetness that he lacked.
His hand moved to your the front of your neck and squeezed it a little, making you yelp in surprise, the sound muffled by his mouth. You tried to get away from the kiss, confused about his rough actions against you, a little scared of him even, almost like you didn’t trust him every little part of your brain in this same couch for the last couple of months.
But then it clicked on your foggy brain, he knew you, perfectly— you only knew his name, you didn’t know what this man was capable of.
You could only move a few centimeters away from his hungry mouth, your lips parted as tears welled in your eyes from the pressure he was applying to your neck.
“Stop” you managed to stutter, your breath mixing with his. “I can’t- breathe”
You doubted that he listened to you, your voice not coming out of your throat at all and getting stuck in your larynx, your voice-box completely muffled by his strong grip.
“Shut up, brat” he spitted, his tone sounding full of abhor, your eyes wide open as you felt the air leaving your body and your lungs starting to burn. “Always getting what you want”
You weakly placed one of your hands around his wrist, another attempt of gasp elicited from your agape mouth as he lifted his other hand and choked you with both, something in your dizzy mind telling you that he was possessed.
“Crying all the time- complaining” he continued, not caring if you were listening, the suffocation being to much to bare now. “So selfish”
And maybe he was.
Your brain was filled with fear, wondering how it all went from a kiss to this— almost getting killed by your therapist in your couch. You opened your eyes to meet his, feeling like your chest was on fire as there wasn’t any air flowing in, seeing how the blue of Jonathan’s eyes has darkened and his lips were parted as well, the muscles of his jaw twitching as he choked you to death.
Your eyebrows narrowed together in terror as you noticed that familiar tingly sensation in your lower belly and your thighs clenching together. Maybe it was something about him exercising this power over you, how you felt so feeble under his touch, that was probably leaving bruises on your neck for you to carry and show around what he was making you do it.
You didn’t have enough time to think about it, you were practically dying.
“And you are enjoying this?” he said with an amused tone, probably noticing how your thighs fragily contracted against one another.
You felt yourself slowly lose your consciousness when finally the relief came and the air started to flow again to your desperate lungs, taking long and loud puffs of air when his hand let go of your neck. Your erratic breath was interrupted by a loud moan that escaped you when Crane yanked you by your hair and shoved you to the floor.
He was quick yo position you between his legs, looking at you through his unfixed glasses, giving you a twisted smile that made you quiver in fear, that growing wet patch on your panties making you feel like a really sick girl.
“Doctor-” you mumbled, closing your eyes as he pulled your hair, withdrawing a mewl off your mouth. “Hurts”
“You talk when I tell you to talk” he snickered, adjusting the way his fingers gripped your hair. You thought that he might just pull out the strand he was tugging. “I’m sick of your whining”
You felt more tears well up in your eyes; not sure if it was from the pain in your head or how his words felt like a knife that landed right on your heart. You were confused, sad, angry— a little hot, too.
“I pay you yo listen to me” you said, your voice so shaky you were lucky he could understand you. You wished he didn’t understand you.
Another sort of moan left your lips as a hard slap made a landing in your cheek, your face turned to the side because of the impact. You closed your eyes in disbelief, a cry coming out as you felt helpless, wondering if this was some exposure therapy he was experimenting on you.
He repeated himself, instructing you to talk only when you were told so, nodding in defeat as you accepted whatever this was and continued to play along with Jonathan’s sick fantasy of controlling you, without even knowing it.
You looked at him with nothing but inquietude, the look in his eyes giving you the foreboding that nothing good was about to happen now, frightened of what we would do to you.
He didn’t show any hints of letting go of your hair anytime soon, just holding it firmly to keep you looking at him through your heavy lashes, a wicked grin on his smug face.
“Let’s give that whining mouth of yours a good use” he said, and you gulped, understanding what he wanted and quivering in fear, not really understanding why the sticky sensation between your legs grew.
“Undo my pants” he commanded, and you stayed still, your eyes not leaving his even when another slap landed on your tear-wet face. “Do as you’re told, brat. This might be your only cure”
You couldn’t help but sob a little, his tone sounding so definitive, so professional. Your trembling hands reached his belt and unbuckling it ungracefully, taking longer than he expected, you heard him chuckle as you unbuttoned his pants afterwards, then putting your hands back in front of your lap.
“C’mon” he pulled your hair again, causing you to moan in pain. “Don’t make me tell you what to do”
You looked at him again in nothing but shame, trying to resist to this humiliating request of his, but complying it anyways. He said he was going to cure you, but now you doubted it, right now, you only wanted this to be over.
With a last look at his eyes you returned your attention to the growing bulge in his slacks, the shame in your brain being present at all times, not quite helping the way your eyes were fixated on his clothed member. You were quick to free him out after your staring earned you a other harsh pull of hair, your lips turned into a line when his cock slapped his abdomen, causing his dress shirt to wrinkle a little.
“Go on, Y/N” he encouraged you, as you looked at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him for mercy, knowing that even if you screamed it at him, he just wouldn’t listen. “This isn’t about what you want, anymore. Is about what you need”
A tear slid from your eyes and disappeared down your cheek when his free hand placed the tip of his hard cock on your parted lips, gesturing you to take it and not waste more of his time— more than you already did.
“Open up, whore” he said under his breath, using your hair as a device to move your head and help you shove his length down your throat. You complied, the tears in your eyes now soaking in you cheeks by the effort that you were making trying to welcome his thick shaft down your mouth.
You were sure you scratched him with your teeth a few times as he bobbed your head up and down with his strong hand, manhandling you without care for his own pleasure. You placed your hands on his knees, trying not to gag, but when his tip touched the bottom of your throat, you couldn’t help it.
You cried as you felt suffocated again, now for a whole different reason, a more humiliating one, and you almost wished he killed you then. His hips buckled everytime your lips reached the base of his cock, the room filled with the sounds of your mouth and saliva coating his shaft and the soft moans that came out of his poisoned lips.
“Take it, whore” he said, his voice now husky and distorted by the pleasure, the pain that your teeth accidentally inflicted on him turning him even more. “God- you are horrible at this”
He chuckled between heavy breaths, pulling you by the hair and releasing his cock from your mouth, a vulgar pop filling both of your ears at the sudden separation of your lips and his member. Your eyes looked at the floor, feeling such a shame that the mere thought of meeting his face with your fearful face made you cringe, the pulsating pain on the back of your head making you dizzy.
“You can’t suck dick properly” he said, his tone sounding like he was making fun of you. “No wonder why your husband left you. You’re just pathetic”
You finally rose up your face to look at that insufferable smile of his, ignoring the way his cock was still hanging there in front of you, almost brushing your nose. His fingers finally untangled from your hair and giving you some sort of solace, the consolation that this traumatic session was over.
Maybe the remedy was worse than the sickness itself.
“Jonathan, stop it, plea-”
Your imploration was completely ignored, followed by another slap on your wet cheek that made you cry even more, not understanding how this man could’ve been the same one who made you felt loved and finally listened. You fell for a lie once again.
“Get on the couch” he simply said, his words were like a bucket of cold water fell on you. “Stop the bitching, don’t want to hear it”
“And I’m your doctor. Not Jonathan” he reminded you, making you feel even more ashamed.
You did as he told, again, half-standing from the floor and sitting next to him, trying to take as much space from him as you could before he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, your face growing red as his face was now centimeters away from yours.
“You look so beautiful when you cry” he whispered, caressing your face but trying to nor wipe the tears away, almost like he was admiring you. It made you melt into his touch, glad that his kind demeanor was there again. Even if his words made you cringe— and the fact that his cock was still out, you felt your heart grew warmer by the way he tenderly touched you.
It didn’t last much longer, when his lips twitched into a malicious smile and went down to nibble your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses around the bruised skin and bitting where his fingers hurt you previously, making your fingers wrap on his hair and cry for mercy, trying for him to stop hurting you this much.
“Shut up, stupid brat” he repeated that same insult, making you swallow your cries, closing your eyes in disbelief as he continued to injure your already suffering skin.
You arched your back in surprise when all of the sudden his hands reached for your breasts, groping your tits like his life depending on it, stimulating you through the fabric of your shirt, but all you felt was fear and anger, impotence flowing through your veins because you just couldn’t scream and push him away, fear was freezing you on the spot.
The worst part? You maybe didn’t wanted to push him away. Because maybe if he gets what he wants now you would be cured and he’ll be back to normal, returning you the sweet Doctor Crane that you met once, not this monster that was groping you like a piece of meat.
He clicked his tongue and dropped both of his hands to spread your legs open, forcing your back to drop onto the hand rester of the couch. You looked at him with big eyes, your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest and scream to Jonathan that enough was enough, you just couldn’t take any of this anymore.
But your heart stayed there, between your lungs that seemed incapable to hold any air, making your breathing erratic. So nobody screamed Jonathan to stop, and he continued with his profanation against your persona— your dignity.
He bit his lip at the sight of your fucked-up face, your legs open as it showed him the dark patch on your baby blue panties, darting his eyes from your half-exposed crotch to your teary eyes.
“God, keep crying and I might come now” he growled, lowering his face to meet your pussy, kissing it through your underwear, making you mewl, closing your eyes at the sudden attention your core was getting.
You felt embarrassed at how much you enjoyed when he moved the fabric to the side and started making out with your cunt, swallowing your fluids like a starved man.
“So wet” he mumbled against your labia, the vibration making your eyes roll back, bitting your lip to prevent any moan to come out; he was raping you, why did he make you enjoy it? “I bet you like this, to be treated like a whore”
You shook your head, more tears falling out of your eyes as you felt nothing else but humiliation, pleasure washing over your body everytime his tongue brushed your clit, your back arched against nothing.
“You like it?” he said, finally pulling out and pushing his body up so his face was in front of yours, his cock grazing against your now stimulated pussy, a gasp leaving your lips, a gasp that quickly turned into a hurting moan when his hand slapped you again, this time in your throbbing cunt. “Answer me”
“I- I do” you whispered, gripping his shoulders when you felt him align the head of his member with your whole, scared of how it was going to fit. You had trouble taking it when he face-fucked you, how the fuck it was going to fit down there?
“I’m going to fuck you so good” he whispered between pants, jerking himself off before entering you. “You’re going to forget that pathetic husband of yours”
You couldn’t help but cry, trying to push him off by the shoulders, a terrified look on your face. “It won’t fit, Doctor” you pleaded, a crooked grin on his face as you keep on calling him that. “I beg you, don’t-”
“Yes, beg me” he said, starting to push his member inside you with a slow but relentlessly pace, not giving you enough time to adjust, just to scream and hit him weakly on the chest, face and shoulders before ge grabbed your hands and pinned them down, on the sides of your body. “I’m going to cure you- do you so good”
His voice was low, as he barely could speak when he felt just how tight you were, your walls hugging his cock just the right way, his pulsating head making your mind dizzy, the stinging pain starting to be forgotten.
But when he slid out and entered back it, the hardness of his movement made your insides burn with pain, a loud cry echoing in the walls of the living room as he started to trust into your pussy with a fast pace, not caring at all if you felt good.
He snapped his hips against yours with an animalistic force, growls escaped from his mouth every time his cock was welcomed by the warmth of your stretch whole, the sensation making him go even more feral, making you cry more.
He let go of one of your hands and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at his eyes as he fucked you vigorously, the blue on his iris not existent anymore, only his widely dilated pupils meeting yours, your blurred vision distinguishing the depraved expression in his face.
“You- so tight” he snarled, his voice barely audible, covered by the sound of skin slapping and your loud cries. “I bet your stupid husband didn’t fuck you like this”
You felt nothing but shame as you felt his cock now sliding in and out more easily, the wetness of your cunt growing as he spoke to you like that, that familiar heat flourishing in your lower belly as his words degraded you, your cries quickly becoming moans.
“This was all you needed- fuck” he said, his spit splashing your face as he talked, his words full of disdain. “A good dick, that’s all it takes to keep bitches like you quiet” You nodded, thinking that if you agreed he would stop. How wrong you were.
In a quick movement Jonathan took his cock out and spun you around, not giving you time to get on your ass up by laying your chest down before he stabbed your hole again, pushing your skirt all the way up to see how his pelvis came into collision with your ass.
You were moaning like a bitch in heat now, sure that the maids were listening, not really caring about it anymore. Jonathan was fucking you nice and hard, your mouth wide open as his tip brushed your cervix, screaming to him to keep it right there.
“I’m close” he said, pulling your hair back to press his chest to your back, his other hand going down to play with your swollen clit, wanting your to come around his cock like the slut he knew you were. “Come with me, you whore”
“Yes” you moaned, your tongue out as his cock hit the right spots, making your hips to move against his, grinding against his hand and dick, feeling your wetness drip down to your thighs. “Yes, yes, I want to”
He laughed, approaching your ear with his tongue to bite it, leaving a long and wet kiss underneath it that made you grow hotter, your eyes closed as you let him use you; the only thought in your mind being him and his wonder-working cock.
Truth was, he was fucking you stiffly, every slam of his hips stronger than the last one, but you were so deprived of touch, so dick-starved, that even if Jonathan was fucking you like a lifeless doll, only for the sake of his pleasure, you loved it, even when it hurt you.
“I’m going to fill you up” he said against your ear, his hand leaving your clit unattended as he grabbed your hip to increase the velocity of his thrusts, ramming your hole like a demented man, making your head drop against his shoulder and scream at the ceiling, now knowing what he meant by curing you.
“Going to get you pregnant” he said, more to himself than anything “so you don’t have to bitch about being alone anymore”
You opened your eyes with terror, you didn’t want children, you were so young. The idea made you frightened, the moaning now sounding like little nos and pull outs, but Jonathan didn’t listen.
“Doctor please, please, pull out” you pleaded, reaching for his hips and trying to push him away, one of his hands slapping your ass and pulling you down by your shoulder blade so you wouldn’t fight anymore. “Doctor Crane please”
“I will fucking fill you up, Y/N” he chanted, laughing at the idea of your round belly and your swollen tits, carrying his baby all day and feeling all worked up and needy all day, only waiting for him to fuck you all day. “You won’t be alone again. You won’t be sad again”
Then you realized it.
When he came, your hot walls creamed every single drop of his cum, making his thrusts sloppy and slow, his moans filling your ears as you sobbed under his touch, feeling his seed paint your walls and load your insides with his sperm.
That was your cure.
His hot release that now flooded inside your leaking cunt, that was your so-promised antidote. He took away your solitude by giving you his and yours firstborn, a bastard baby that would give you the company that you lacked.
You felt him chuckle as he rode out his high, the chase of his own climax made you forget yours, so now there you were, your swollen cunt looking for its release while his rested among your insides calmly, like it was meant to be.
He didn’t pull out immediately, taking his time to appreciate the sight of your skirt resting in your hips all rolled up, your bruised neck and messy hair, the way your ass was exposed to him by the way he had you arching your back. All for him— for him to wreck.
He pulled out and rolled his eyes when you started crying, now being annoying instead of hot. You sat on the couch and saw him button his pants and fix his hair, hissing when you felt nothing but pain growing in your worn-out pussy. You explained through your weak voice how he ruined your life, that he was the worst person you’ve ever met and that now you had to carry the product of his sick and twisted rapist-fantasy, even tried to hit him, but your pathetic tantrum only gained you another slap in the face, and a stern look.
When he tried to stand up and leave, you grabbed him by the wrist and begged him not to, he couldn’t just leave you, not now, not ever.
“Don’t be so ungrateful” he said, a smile that made you feel nothing but trepidation in his face. “You’ll never be alone again”
You couldn’t help but feel scared. Scared of him, of what just happened, of what’s going to happen next, scared for your future son with this evil specie of a man.
When you continued to cry, and he pulled you for a hug as he assured you that he would never leave you; and how could he? He had a long life of success waiting for him now, giving a girl of your status his last name, his children. Oh, it’s going to be wonderful, he just needed to tame you and make you the perfect slave for him, and that wasn’t going to be hard.
You were sure that you’ll never be loved, but at least now Jonathan was going to be with you. You’ll never be alone again.
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thanks for reading. w/love, fenina;)
taglist: @lovesickxcherries @genini @ilunapb @ostricx @devotedlyshadowytheorist
if you want to be added let me know, it’ll be my pleasure🫶🏻
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futureplayboibunnie · 6 months
Text
Heartless Pt. 4
Mafia Boss! Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader
You and Miguel are married to each other…and it wasn’t because of love.
thank you for all the love so far! also this is my personal touch for this fic, but while i was writing it i was listening to the entire Honeymoon album by lana del rey (especially the instrumentals) i’d recommend listenting to it. it fits this vibe so perfectly, literally trying to encapsulate that feeling with this series.
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“I'm in the middle of something.” You piped up nonchalantly, like being half naked and dripping with water in front of men was a completely normal occurrence. “Well, now that you're here, it would be nice if you were helpful by getting my bags.” You said with a wry, and slightly pissed-off smile. He just observed you with darkened eyes and a grinding jaw, if he pressed harder you would practically hear the bones crunch together. The look you gave him was an urging one. “So what will it be? Gaping at me blankly or being mildly helpful?” Your tone was aggravating, grating the inside of his head- your glib comments were making him realize that you were actually capable of disrespecting him.
Miguel didn't know what to make of you in his room like this, acting as if it were your own. It wasn't. But you were married now. Technically, what was his was yours. He didn't like it. He sneered, his features merely angry slashes contorting up his face. “I'm not your sniffer dog.” He barked, storming out of the room and slamming the door so hard that it closed and sprung back open. You rolled your eyes at his outburst, but you had to admit, it was a little unnerving to see him lose his temper that quickly. Miguel huffed, grabbed your stupid bag, and slammed the door open like a bull in a china shop. “Here, and get out of the room. It's mine.”
“What? I was in here first.” You protested in vain, you were the one who was dragged away on a honeymoon, you were the one who was being ordered around like a stuck-up child. The least he could do was let you sleep wherever you wanted to sleep.
“Well, I own the fucking building.” Miguel bit back deadpan, his voice flat and so sadistically arrogant, like money was all that made him. It was an insult to the whole idea of humanity to rely on something as belittling as money.
Miguel's head was storming, dissecting every single premonition about you and how you could so easily flip on him, he would tolerate your disrespect for now, you hadn't properly settled in yet, but if you made it a habit, he'd make you regret it. It should be funny, Miguel was so proper and particular about his women. There were things he liked and didn't like on women. He hated flats. He only liked certain colors. He hated jeans. He liked skirts and dresses for...easy access. He liked his women easy, and you were definitely not easy. You were making it difficult for him on purpose now. But for some reason, defiance suited you more than nonchalant complacency. It was more entertaining than the graceful, polite facade you shirked up.
“Can I put my clothes on now?” You objected, snapping him out of his pondering, looking like an idiot just glaring at you like this.
Part of him wanted to say ‘Well. No. I'd prefer you with nothing on actually.' His steely resolve almost broke at the realization, but he shook his head and pushed it down. Yes, you were attractive but your personality was a mystery for him, he was battling his own personal mysteries, and he didn't have time to psychoanalyze anyone elses.
-
You slept...okay. Miguel didn't disturb you or actually force you out of his room which was odd. He probably had enough of this senseless bickering, you'd probably just go back to ignoring each other, maybe at least try to independently enjoy this stupid 'honeymoon.’
The sun woke you up sweetly, and the soft gentle breeze billowed through the open curtains, offering the hum of salt air whispering through the room. You wanted to avoid Miguel as long as you could, so you decided to just go in the garden, sunbathe, read a book, do something meaningless to just forget about the fact you're married to one of the most dangerous men you've ever met.
You practically jumped out of bed, went to the bathroom, splashed your face with water, brushed your hair, and put it up in a claw clip with the speed of an Olympic runner. But what was all the hurrying for when you were completely stumped on what to wear? You tossed out your clothes and put them all away, you ultimately decided to wear a bikini and on top a cute mid-thigh sundress, you weren't going anywhere too fancy, the back garden wasn't exactly Paris fashion week. When you glanced outside the terrace, you were happy to see that the garden was adorned with carefully cut shrubs, willowing trees, orchids, and chrysanthemums. Considering Miguel rarely leaves for leisure, it was a surprise that is was being kept up - it must have meant a lot to him then. You grabbed your things and opened the door quietly, wanting to sneak out as soundlessly as possible in order not to attract attention from Miguel, or worse, be the reason to wake him up.
You padded away barefoot, feeling the warmth of the sun outside surround you as it seeped through every glass window.
Even though Miguel told you to get used to his lifestyle, you still hadn't settled in, something just didn't sit quite right with you. You were fortunate enough to come from a wealthy family but the way Miguel wasn't bothered by the sheer amount of blood money he acquired is...distasteful. Thinking of which, you peeked your head around the corner in order to see if Miguel was awake but instead you found something else. He wasn't in bed at all. He was asleep, his hands were crossed on the kitchen counter and his head was flat on his upper arm, fast asleep with his laptop open in front of him Jesus. He still hadn't changed. What was it with men not wanting to take care of themselves?
You shifted towards him, inching closer and closer to his sleeping form. Wow. He almost looked peaceful, not full of that mindless aggression he was known for. His copper hair was tousled and disheveled, his golden skin was creased but reflective against the light, and his breathing was slow and heavy- it was odd seeing him this relaxed when he wasn't even in a relaxing position in the first place. You raised an eyebrow at his disposition. Maybe Miguel wanted to outsmart and outwit sleep, he obviously had to succumb to its charms. You worked your way around the kitchen island, unable to stop looking at him like this, you grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and just stood and stared at him like a creep. You really should leave before he wakes up, but you didn't want him sending his capos combing the entire complex for you, so you just left him a note.
In the garden.
-
Miguel heard a gunshot.
It reverberated in his ears.
More gunshots. Thousands of rounds smoking away.
His eyes widened, and the sleep left his bones. His head spun around, shifting erratically, and he almost fell off the fucking chair. A tight anxiety squeezed the color out of his face, the heavy breaths wouldn't bring any solance to any of the fragments falling at his palms. His chest filled with panic, and the first thing that came into his head to find was you. He eyed your note and rushed down as fast as he could. He needed to get you out of here.
But then all he heard was silence when he stepped out onto the patio. A muffling silence. Then the sharp hum of wildlife, the birds chirping, the distant sounds of the beach, the flattening waves. The crickets trilled and the leaves rustled, the nostalgia of the oddly familiar sounds crept up on him like a disillusioning shadow. An itch he couldn't scratch. A never-ending nightmare he couldn't end. A man with everything he could ever want, but no clear consciousness, no clear mind. He was blind and tortured.
You were lying on a sunbed, and Miguel only caught onto your back and a little bit of your side profile. His eyes were dead set on you, contemplating you...and there you are, emerging in his eyeline. Those flashes of skin become a painting, a jigsaw puzzle coming together. He was slow in his movements, finally viewing you as you were. You were lying there, glowing in a small bikini, taking in the sun like a nymph. Your body was so….
Miguel frowned.
The apple you bit into was stuck to your teeth, you stopped everything you were doing, pausing for your eyes to follow from Miguel's thighs to his face. This was the moment where he saw you as if you were like a deer in headlights, like a naive girl who tries to hide behind back-talk and retaliation. The wide-eyed look you gave him, pupils glazing over, revealing no thought behind your eyes. But he saw you. He saw you being affected by his presence. He felt himself loom over you. Your eyebrows creased in pensive irritation, Miguel's face was hard and steely in something he couldn't quite define. You finished biting into the apple, chewing and just giving him a nonchalant look. Reverting back like second instinct.
“Did you rush out here to gawk at me again? Or to blame me for your lack of sleep?” You breathed out judgementally, but at that moment, the way your eyes connected sent a strange chill down your spine, even when you were lying out in the sun. Miguel felt it too. The scorching, pulsating beat behind your gaze was a never-ending maze, an attempt to figure out who was going to break first. Neither of you was willing to back down. It was sizzling…as wellias unsettling.
Miguel didn't know how to answer your question. He couldn't exactly tell you that his nightmares of the most traumatic thing that's ever happened to him tricked his head into believing he was hearing the remnants of it in real time. Part of him wanted to say yes to both. His sleep schedule was a nightmare in itself and the woman who is the bane of his existence has to be looking so...delicious when he was absolutely not in the mood. He wanted you with nothing on, maybe force you to look at him the exact same way he just found you...with his hand between your thighs.
Miguel shook the annoying, sleep-induced thought away. He was acting like every other man, their mind wandering to hell when they see any attractive woman- he won't fall for it. He won't. But you weren’t any other woman were you?
Miguel watched you bite into the apple and instinctively, he just grabbed it from your mouth, almost pulling at it. He watched your face flit into a multitude of different emotions at what he did. You opened your mouth to say something but you just huffed instead, glaring a hole into his face. Miguel took a bite out of it and tilted his head to contemplate you. He knew he shocked you.
You were really fuckable.
Extremely fuckable.
It was an objective statement.
But he still won't play into it. Nah. You wouldn’t be able to fix him. He was too damaged for you. He wouldn’t mind the primitive pleasure of fucking you. He just won’t do it. You weren’t as nice as before. You’d grown a smart mouth.
“Hm.” That was all he could say to you. “I want my room back.” His fingers reached out and tilted your chin up a little, he felt you flinch just a millisecond and that expression on your face was unamused, dead set looking up at him. It felt like you were holding your breath. He took another bite out of the apple. "Happy sunbathing carino." He yelled behind him as he walked away.
-
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