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#this is the first time you're probably seeing my face and my eyebrows are a mess :
psychwxrdd · 2 days
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more soft rafe pls 🥺
i just wanted to hear the sound of your voice ♡₊˚ . ☆
﹗ ໒꒱۪ ₊˚﹒✦₊
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୨ৎ summary: rafe's in love for the first time in his life!
୨ৎ pairing: soft rafe x reader
୨ৎ warnings: none, fluff
🎀 note: i wrote this listening to what is love by twice ok
"Hi, you're Rafe, right?" The girl asked, her soft and friendly tone making Cameron raise an eyebrow. Generally, people feared him, they didn't treat him... like that. Speak to him in that tone, like he was someone they wanted to be friends with. "My friends asked me to tell you they're about to beat the shit out of you"
Rafe looked at the girl without knowing what to say. She said it so naturally that it didn't even seemed ironic or conscious, and it took Rafe by surprise.
"Who are your friends?"
"JJ and Pope"
Rafe pushed his cap back and flicked his cheek with his tongue. He was about to answer but she didn't gave him time.
"I liked your ring"
"Sorry?"
"This ring of yours, right here" she pointed to the gold ring. "It's beautiful, where did you buy it?"
He stared at the girl's face for a few seconds with his mouth open and his brows slightly furrowed.
"It-t's uh... It's from my family"
"Well, it's really beautiful, it suits you"
"Thank you..." He let out a light chuckle. Who was this little doll?
"Hey, you again" Rafe approached the girl on the beach. There was a party going on there, at night, and he recognized her from afar. That sweet smile got stuck with him.
"Hey, Rafe!" She replied, smiling widely. Her smile made Rafe smile too, unconsciously.
"You didn't told me your name that day."
"I'm Y/n" She spoke softly. A pretty name for a pretty princess, he thought.
"Nice to meet you, Y/n. Can I buy you a drink?"
"I don't like alcohol, but thank you very much!"
"Yeah?" He was curious "What do you like then?"
"Buy me a soda"
Rafe smiled, putting his arm around her shoulders.
Rafe and Y/n became inseparable after those brief meetings. Rafe wanted more from her, he wanted her presence, he wanted her every day, even if it was just for a small talk, she had something about her that made his heart warm and race every time. That night, he had asked her to go out with him on the family yacht. The breeze brushed against the girl's skin and made her shiver, Rafe noticed.
"Here, wear my coat" he said, taking it off his body.
"No need, thank you... It feels good like this"
"You're going to catch a cold"
She laughed, still refusing, but too focused on the sea to stop him. He placed it gently around her shoulders.
"What do you think that it's hidden down there?" She pointed to the sea. "Like, we only know 10% of the ocean, the rest has never been mapped"
He looked at her face, mesmerized by her features... her eyes reflected the waves. He wished he could stare at them forever, they were so full of life.
"Probably many dead bodies who went missing"
"Oh my God, Rafe" she pushed him lightly. He laughed genuinely.
"What do you think is there, little doll?"
"Magic."
He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.
"Yeah?"
"Mermaids, I really want to believe that they exist. People are generally afraid of the unknown, but I like to believe that it's only something too good for us to see. Something magical, like that legend about the treasure at the end of the rainbow."
"You know..." He breathed softly, "Who's to say you're not right, huh?"
She looked at him fondly.
"Are there sharks here in this region?"
"Why? Do you want to swim?"
She didn't even needed to say anything, the look on her face said it all. Rafe felt excited. God, ever since he met her he felt constantly excited, and he hadn't remembered feeling that way in years. Probably since he stopped being a child.
They swam and had fun for hours, Rafe felt so young, despite obviously being a young man, he was so full of responsabilities and darkness, usually always feeling like he lived a whole life. But he felt free like he hadn't in a long time. That same night, Rafe dropped her off at home and as soon as she got out of the car, his heart sank. What was that?
She hadn't even got inside her home yet, but Rafe already missed her terribly. He wanted to run to her and hold her in his arms, again, forever. God, was he sick?
He had never felt this feeling, he even thought he was going to vomit or that he had a fever, that he was going to faint. He pulled out his phone, immediately searching for Y/n's number.
"Rafe?" she asked, laughing softly. "I haven't even gotten to my room yet"
"I just wanted to hear the sound of your voice" He said without even thinking, practically letting his heart speak. What kind of gay shit was that? I just wanted to hear the sound of your voice. Jesus Christ, he sighed, embarassed.
"I miss you too"
She said, and his heart raced so much that he smiled, feeling butterflies in his stomach. He was happy, very happy. Not even coke got him like this.
"Come back here, I'm still in front of your house. Let's spend tonight together."
And forever too, he thought, but he managed to control that inside his mouth.
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rafesfavgirl · 3 days
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belly piercing — r. cameron
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pairing: bf!rafe x fem!reader
context: you got a belly button piercing and rafe sees it for the first time.
words: 652
warnings: fluff, mention of smut
it was a bright and sunny day when rafe convinced you to take a ride in topper's new boat with him, topper, and kelce.
you had recently gotten your belly button pierced and hadn't told rafe about it yet, so you quickly threw on one of his oversized shirts over your bikini before meeting them outside.
"hey, pretty girl," he holds a hand out to you when you reach the end of the dock to help you step into the boat.
"hey, y/n," kelce and topper both greet you as you join them, topper at the steering wheel, and kelce sipping on a bottle of beer.
"hey guys," you throw them a smile, as rafe wraps an arm around your waist and gives you a peck on the lips.
topper steers the boat away from the dock and starts heading out towards the marsh.
topper had anchored the boat to a stop in the middle of the marsh half an hour ago, so you were all now chilling under the sun.
you were perched on a lounge chair on the opposite side of the boat's deck from rafe, topper, and kelce, who were sitting on the L-shaped couch, sipping on their beers, and talking about some girl kelce was trying to get with, while you read your summer romance book.
all three guys had lost their shirts some time around noon when the sun reached its peak, and now that it was beating down hard and causing sweat beads to scatter across your skin, you consider taking off rafe's oversized shirt to just sit in your bikini.
you contemplate it for a second, unsure of what rafe might think about your newly pierced navel, but after persuading yourself that he was probably too distracted talking to topper and kelce to even notice it, you hop up from the lounge chair to pull his shirt over your head.
little did you know, he watched your every move from the moment you stood up, his eyes trailing over your body as you took his shirt off, the diamond encrusted ring in your belly button reflecting the sunshine and immediately catching his eye.
a smirk comes across his lips as he stood up to walk over to you in the middle of topper's sentence, and sat down at the edge of your lounge chair, facing you.
it didn't take you long to notice exactly what he was staring at, as he pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth. 
a newfound confidence washes over you when you realize that the look on his face meant that he was loving the new piece of jewelry on your body. "you like it?"
he tilts his head up at you, his piercing blue eyes twinkling as he reached out to grab the back of your thighs and pull you closer to him, your navel directly in front of his face. "it's sexy, baby." he glances at it again, bringing a finger up to play with it. "does it hurt?"
"it's a little sore, but nothing too bad," you tell him, your hands tangling in his hair as he tilts his head up to look at you again.
"so it wouldn't hurt if you rode me?" he kinks an eyebrow at you and pulls you into his lap so you're straddling him, your thighs on either side of his legs.
"is that something you'd like?" you tease, his face inches away from yours now.
"very much," he nods, placing his lips on yours as his hands on your lower back pushed your body closer to his.
"hey lovebirds!" kelce calls out to the two of you, and you both snap your head towards him and topper on the couch.
"get a room," topper adds, sipping his beer.
"jump off the boat and go for a swim then," rafe tells them, causing you to snicker. "give us ten minutes."
reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33
click here to be added to my tag list!!
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vivwritesfics · 3 days
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Shine A Light Into The Wreckage
Chapter Two - Until Next Time
Bob Floyd was many things. He was an instructor at Top Gun, a lover of Tolkien books and a huge fan of coffee. But Bob was also clumsy. That was how he bumped into the table, knocking her drink onto her notebook. He felt bad about it. Bad enough to come back time and time again, in the hopes that she would be there. And, every time, she is. Each time looking a little worse for wear. It doesn't take Bob long to realise he has to save her.
2K
Warnings: Abusive relationship! Abusive hair pulling! Abusive slight choking! Forceful sex! Seriously don't read if you're affect by stuff like this
Series Masterlist
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The feeling of guilt didn't leave Bob for the rest of the day. He couldn't stop thinking about her, thinking about whether he'd ruined some important work or sketches that meant a lot to her or something. And then he thought about the coffee he had spilt over her lap. Was it burning hot? Did she have to go to the hospital instead of back to work? God, he hoped not. 
He didn't have work that day, but it didn't mean that he, Jake and Natasha weren't hanging out. Normally they wouldn't run to the cafe to get coffee on a day like this, not when they had Natasha's coffee machine so close by. 
Jake offered him a cigarette as the three of them sat on the back porch. Bob took it, placing it between his lips. But he didn't light it, not yet. 
"Anybody want a coffee?" Asked Natasha. She stubbed out her own cigarette and stood up. 
But, before she could get to her back door, Bob was there. "I'll get them!" He said quickly. "Latte and a black coffee, right?" He asked. But he gave them no time to answer and took off, leaving through Natasha's front door. 
"What the hell was that?" Jake asked as he watched Bob disappear out of the front door. 
Natasha returned to the porch to sit beside her fellow pilot turned Top Gun instructor. "I seriously don't know," she said, turning to Jake, her eyebrows raised. 
"You think there's a girl involved?"
"With our Baby On Board?" Asked Natasha, her eyebrows raised. "Maybe it's the cute barista, the one with the pink hair," she suggested. 
Jake looked back towards the door, but Bob was long gone by now. "Should we follow him?"
She shook her head. "He's getting us coffee. We can grill him once the cup is in my hand."
***
Bob didn't light his cigarette. He placed it in his pocket as he grabbed something, a notebook, from the passenger seat of his truck. 
As soon as he had the notebook tucked under his arm, Bob set off, heading to the café. There was no guarantee she'd be there. He just had to hope.
He didn't see her when he first walked in. No, he was looking for a girl in a blouse and a grey pencil skirt. He wasn’t looking for someone dressed down in a sweater and jeans, hair pulled back out of her face. He wasn't looking at the back of the cafe, was expecting her at the front. 
Bob walked up to the counter. He got the black coffee, the latte, and the tea (he might have been a coffee man, but it wasn’t always his go to. Sometimes there was nothing better than a good cup of tea). 
When he turned back around, his drinks in the cupholder, he finally spotted her. 
The sweater was blue, knitted. The sleeves were folded at the wrists, probably too long. The legs of her jeans were too long, hiding the shoes on her feet. She was undeniably pretty, something Bob didn’t notice the first time around. But, in his defence, he was too busy fumbling. Again she had a cup full of coffee in front of a notebook with brown pages. The notebook he had ruined just days before. 
When Bob approached, she didn't look up, desperately trying to read beneath the coffee stains. 
For a moment, Bob didn't know what to do. He looked around and awkwardly cleared his throat. 
Finally, she looked up, meeting his gaze. There was a second before she recognised him. "If you’re here to throw another coffee over me, I'm begging you find another victim." 
Bob managed a weak laugh as he set his own drinks down, this time without spilling any. "Actually, that's why I'm here," he said, grabbing the notebook from under his arm. "I saw that I ruined your notebook yesterday and I'm really sorry about that. I can't get back the stuff I ruined on the pages, but I was hoping this would help. Even if just a little."
Bob held the notebook out to her, their fingers touching as she took it from him. The cover was pink, with nothing else on it. She opened the notebook to find the lined pages. It was exactly what she needed. 
Placing the notebook beneath her ruined one, she looked up at Bob. "What's your name?" She asked, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back in her chair. 
"Robert Floyd, ma'am. But everybody calls me Bob."
"Do you wanna have a drink with me, Bob?" She asked as she picked up her mug and took a sip. She put the mug back down and licked the coffee moustache from her top lip. "Maybe then you can buy me a replacement drink."
Bob nodded. He pulled off the lid of his takeaway cup, added the sachet of milk and the sachet of sugar to his tea. 
She took another long sip of her coffee. "You're an aviator, aren’t you?" She asked. 
Bob couldn't help but smile at that. "Uh, yeah. I was in Top Gun last year. I'm an instructor now."
She nodded slowly. "You hang out at The Hard Deck?"
Bob gave a quick nod and stirred his steaming tea.
"Yeah, I went down there once," she said. "One of your guys flirted with me, and my boyfriend got so angry he got us kicked out." She had been smiling for most of the sentence. But, as soon as she had said it, the smile dropped from her face.
Boyfriend. Bob tried not to dwell on that. He wasn't here to get her attention in that way. No, he was here to make things right.
"Let me guess," he began. "He was tall, spoke with a Texas accent, and the name on his uniform said 'Hangman'."
Suddenly, she let out a snort. "No freaking way," she said through giggles as she looked at him. "You actually know him? That's hilarious!"
Bob couldn't help but laugh along with her. It was infectious and, as soon as he saw her face light up, Bob realised he couldn't get enough. "Yeah, that sounds like Hangman, all right," he said. All this time he had been mindlessly stirring his tea. 
Bob shifted the conversation away from his friend and co-worker. "Do you come in here often?" He asked and lifted his tea to his lips. 
She moved her head from side to side. Not saying no, but more like she was unsure. "I... do now," she said and finished her drink. 
Bob's eyes moved to the notebooks in front of her. The one he ruined and the one that replaced it. "What were you working on? You know, before I interrupted."
When she didn't immediately reply, Bob assumed the worst. He had overstepped and she no longer wanted to sit and drink coffee with him. 
She sucked in a breath, drumming her nails against the table. "Bob, did you ever have a vision for your life? You know, imagine the way you wanted to be loved, the way you wanted to love someone?" She asked, her eyes staring at the floor. If she saw when Bob slowly nodded, she didn’t indicate. "I did. But life threw curveballs my way."
She didn't say much more than that. Bob waited, his boiling tea in his hands as he looked at the disassociated look on her face. "Are you," he began, leaning forward in his seat with his arms on the table, "are you writing a romance story?"
She seemed to snap back into it, embarrassment written on her face and she sat up. That was all the confirmation Bob needed that, yes, she was writing a romance story. 
"You've got to let me read it."
The look she shot at him could only be described as incredulous. "You have got to be kidding me, Bobby," she said, the corner of her lips twitching up. "I barely know you."
Suddenly, Bob was feeling brave. Maybe it was because her words sounded like an invitation. "Well, let me get you another drink and you can get to know me.”
Conversation with Bob was easy. He bought her the hazelnut latte with oat milk, just as she had asked (okay, maybe she was splurging a little) and sat in the seat opposite her, still working on his own tea. He was only too eager to talk about his life, growing up in Montana and how he had ended up in San Diego. 
She listened, actually laughing when Bob attempted a joke (even if it wasn't very good). She talked back, offering up stories from her own life, making her own jokes, the kind that had him blushing red. 
By the time they finished talking, their respective drinks had gone cold (the ones Bob had bought for Jake and Natasha hours before had been forgotten, already thrown in the bin). 
"Crap," she said as she began putting her notebooks in her bag. "I didn't realise it had gotten so late." 
"Got somewhere you need to be?" Bob asked. Because, really, he didn't want to leave this cafe, didn't want the night to end. 
She shook her head. But then she stopped and gave a contemplative look. "Well, I should get going home," she said, pulling her jacket on and placing the strap of her bag over her shoulder. "But I hate walking in the dark."
"I can walk you."
He'd said it so quickly, he barely registered that he said anything at all. But he had and he couldn't take it back. 
"What, so you can find out where I live?" She challenged with a teasing smile. "You're a little stalker, aren’t you, Bobby? That's how you knew I'd be here today."
There was a split second, a fraction of a split second, where anxiety took over and Bob thought she was being serious. But then she laughed and he visibly relaxed. She was teasing him, and doing a damned good job of it. 
When she took his hand and pulled him out of the cafe, Bob's chest was hot. He'd known her a few hours and already there were feelings there. But she made it so easy for him. And that just simply wasn't fair (Bob knew she was a taken woman; she had told him. No matter what his feelings were, he hadn't acted on them and he wouldn't act on them. Feelings without action weren't bad, right?)
"So, why do you hate walking in the dark?" He asked as she led him to the end of the street. 
She shrugged her shoulders. "Always have," she answered quickly. "When I was a kid I had these vivid, awful nightmares of getting snatched off the street in the dark and I guess I never grew out of it."
Bob nodded. It was fair enough, really. He was sure if he had nightmares as a kid that were bad enough to follow him into adulthood, he'd still be scared of the cause. "I'm scared of slugs and snails," he said suddenly, easing the slight tension in the air. 
"What?" She asked before she let out a laugh. "But they're so cute!"
Bob shook his head. "They're not cute! When I was a kid I stepped on one and it exploded between my toes," he defended.
She stopped walking. "Bobby, you're gross," she said with a laugh and turned to the apartment building behind her. "Well, this is me," she said, fishing through her bag for a key. "Now you can properly stalk me." 
She found the key in the very bottom of her bag. "It was nice to properly meet you, Bob," she said, the joking tone gone from her voice. "Thanks for walking me home." 
"Until next time?" He offered, unable to keep hope out of his voice. 
"Until next time," she echoed as walked into her apartment building. 
But, before the door could shut, Bob caught it. “Wait!” He cried as she started up the stairs. He couldn't follow her, that would have been too much. “What's your name?”
“Until next time!”
Taglist: @biancathecool @not-nyasa @burningwitchprincess
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latenightdaydreams · 7 hours
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Hii! This is actually my first time requesting anything from anyone, so I'm shy especially since I'm requesting from such a wonderful writer (it's you btw 🫵🥹) Just got into your works recently and I love love LOVE them ❤ I just adore your writing so much and love how you portray König ^^ So I was wondering if you could write fluff for wife!reader who wants to have a family with König but has a deep seated fear of childbirth, though that doesn't stop her from considering it. However, let's say König went on deployment for a quite 'awhile' and some unspeakable things has happened to his dear wife— that deep seated fear of hers is then now accompanied with trauma and perhaps König then finds out her thoughts of actually considering having kids just finally goes down the drain. How do you think it will go from there?
My request most probably doesn't make sense and forgive me for the sudden dark turn 😭 but I just have this twisted(?) story belief that the darker the past, the most utmost delicate comfort is needed to smother them. If it seems too much, feel free to ignore the request 🙇‍♀️ Have a great day or night ahead! Make sure to take care of yourself too 🫶
You're too sweet🥹🩷 I'm so happy that you're enjoying my writing! I hope this is along the lines of what you were asking! I love soft König so much😮‍💨🩷 I hope you have an amazing day🥰
König x Wife!Reader (fem)
All fluff🩷
For more click here: ✍🏽🩷
>cw: fem/afab, family planning, mention of feelings from past assault, fear of rejection
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You just dropped the bomb on König that you are no longer willing to consider having children. After your recent traumas mixed with your deep-rooted fears, you just couldn’t bring yourself to bring a child into this world. Sitting across from you on the bed, König tilts his head as his gaze softens as he listens to you explain your feelings. You feel hot in the face as you think this will be the end.
“I understand if this isn’t the life you want,” your voice trembles as you say those words. Losing König, especially at a time like this, would just ruin you. “I don’t want you to miss out on having a family.”
Your eyes study König’s face trying to see how he is feeling. His blue eyes studies yours as well. His heart pounding in his chest, all he wants to do is reach out an embrace you. He is a strong man, but seeing you, the woman he loves, broken like this breaks him. He has a heavy guilt weighing on his heart for asking for children.
König looks down at your trembling hands and back to your eyes. His eyebrows furrowed as he opens his mouth to speak but stops. Instead, he grabs your waist and pulls you gently to his lap. His arms wrap tightly around you as he rests his head on yours.
“Liebling, you are my family.” He whispers gently stroking your hair. “Kids or no kids, I just want you.”
His words shatter what defenses you put up, ready for rejection. Your tense body relaxes more as you allow yourself to take in his warmth, his scent. His arms squeeze you a little tighter as he rubs his hands along you body to sooth you.
“I don’t want you to settle,” You begin to sob, crying into his black shirt as he holds you to him. He lets you cry and just sits silently with you, rocking his body back and forth. Once you begin to calm down, he begins to kiss the top of your head.
He grabs your puffy tear-stained face as he brings your eyes up to meet his, “You’re my wife. I’ve loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you as corny as that sounds,” he chuckles lightly. “I have nothing without you. I can live without children if it means I get to have you.”
You look up at him with glossy eyes threatening to burst with tears again. König can see the pain in your eyes, not just about the kids, but from what happened to you. A deep rage inside of him feels as if he let you down, he wasn’t here to protect you. He can’t go back in time and stop the assault. All he can do is be here and help you heal. Kids don’t even matter to him, you come first. Always.
Moving your bodies so you both are lying on the bed, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close to him. He gently kisses the top of your head as he listens to you trying to control your breathing.
“Liebling, I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you. I’m sorry.” His own eyes begin to water but he holds back his own emotions to be strong for you. “I promise you’re safe with me now. We will live a happy long life together. We can adopt a cat or dog- even a snake, I don’t care.” He chuckles.
You smile in his arms and move your hands to his chest as you begin to fidget with the fabric of his t-shirt.
“What about a tarantula?” You tease knowing he is scared of spiders.
“Anything for you Liebling, just don’t expect me to be an active father.” He laughs, causing you to giggle lightly.
He looks down at you and kisses your forehead, you lift your head to let him kiss your lips. His hand gently moves to your cheek and cups your face softly. His lips press against yours as if you’re made of glass and he might break you. His precious jewel.
“I love you so much, y/n.”
“I love you too König.”
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scoobysnakz · 5 months
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Older
||* Maybe it's because he's safe and keeps you warm in times or need. Or maybe it's because he has those unruly salt and pepper hair and worry lines. Either way, you want him and maybe he wants you.
Maybe you don't know, or maybe you don't care. But he can smell you, the rush of dopamine when he turns his back and you can see his trapezius shining deliciously in his dimly lit room.
pt2
||* dilf!miguel, vaginal fingering, praise kink, eye contact, perv!miguel, college-age reader, lap sitting, slight hair pulling, one shot, Daddy issues, Dom/sub, smut written by a virgin, not proof read
You're young. And oblivious. So painfully oblivious.
At first, Miguel had just assumed it was a defence mechanism. Don’t give them a reaction and they’ll leave you alone. But the more you smile at the guys flirting with you, the more you lean into their non-platonic hugs, the more certain he becomes that you’re just unaware.
And- in all honesty- he's jealous. He doesn't want to feel the shame that weighs down on his shoulders each time your expression softens at his praise. He doesn't want to feel guilt for watching your hips sway as you walk away. He doesn't want to be like them but he craves the audacity to leer at you in broad daylight.
Maybe it's his morals or maybe it's because he's a coward.
Either way, you’re young and oblivious. And deep down, he loves it.
It's worse in HQ, these men are meant to have morals, good morals, and yet they treat you like a fuckdoll to the eyes.
Your perfect, untouched, college body just for them to perv at.
And Miguel hates it. He hates how he has to ignore your pretty eyes staring up at him as he talks, how he has to scold every Spiderman for being a pervert, and he hates how he's just as bad.
Maybe if you weren't so bubbly sweet he wouldn't have to spend each night palming himself to the thought of your perky body, every shower spurting his hot cum on the misty glass and every moment alone with his office with the doors locked and hand muffling his moans.
“Migs?” that nickname, that only you can use, that only you dared to think of.
He turns to face you, a lazy smile drawn across his painfully perfect lips. “Princessa?” And you immediately try to hide the blush that threatens to bloom on your cheeks.
You hold out your hands, a tray holding a ‘spidey spectacular’ on top. In reality, it's nothing spectacular- a beef burger with barbecue sauce, large fries and a medium drink.
“Got you some lunch,” you grin.
He hops down from his podium, cringing at how your body tenses at the loud thud. “Why?” his tone is harsh, cold, forced.
He knows why. You care, you check in on him when no one else does, you randomly ask him if he's drinking more water than coffee that day, if he actually went to sleep the night previous- unknowing to the thoughts of you that kept him up.
“You haven't eaten today,” you stick your arms out, a playful smile on your face and he doesn't ask how you know. You just do, “and you can't capture those nettlesome anomalies on an empty stomach!”
He quirks an eyebrow. “Nettlesome?”
You laugh, a soft one that makes his core ache with need. “My literature professor has permanently engrained fancy words into my brain.” your shocking professor. Probably some perv who keeps you behind to help you with your tests and oggles at your perfectly shaped ass when you bend over to pick up a pen.
And a painful reminder that as mature as you may be, you’re still young. 18 years too young.
He takes the burger from the tray, gaze lingering on the second as he tries to decide if it's for him or not.
“I’m eating with you,” you answer his question without him asking.
“No, princessa.”
You huff at him, soft, rounded lips falling into a pout. It's a habit you've made- bringing him lunch and sitting with him to make sure he's actually eating the food you've bought no matter how hard he protests.
“Fine. I won't eat with you, I'll just sit and stare and probably piss you off,” you smile smugly at him.
“Whatever,” he grumbles, turning away from you and throwing the paper from the burger in the bin.
You hum in response, not even caring for his grouchy attitude because it doesn't bother you. Because you're young, and you don't understand how men work yet.
He pulls himself up to his podium, glowing red webs dangling from the large metal disk where you soon follow.
Maybe you don't know, or maybe you don't care. But he can smell you, the rush of dopamine when he turns his back and you can see his trapezius shining deliciously in his dimly lit room.
You pull yourself close to him, hand resting just between his thigh and yours. So soft and delicate and he wants to ruin the innocence within them. Wants to see your dainty fingers wrapped around his cock, wants to see how you use those digits inside of yourself while- hopefully- thinking of him.
“How’s school?” he feels like an awkward uncle at an even more awkward Christmas party. Is this what it's come to? Him having to ask about your college life because that's your main focus because you’re young… er.
A small scoff escapes you, and you immediately cover up with a cough.
“I’m not seven,” you tease, hand held out to shove him but you immediately withdraw it which makes him frown.
“You look it.” it's your turn to frown.
You blink up at him, wondering if he knows how you crave these sweet moments between the two of you. You hate how dependent you've become on him, how you can't get through the day without thinking of him and using his health as an excuse to come see him.
“You’re an ass,” you fold your arms across your chest, nose scrunching in feigned irritation.
Miguel clicks his tongue at you, head cocking to the side in disapproval. “Language, princessa.”
You mutter a feeble “sorry”, a forced waver to your voice that makes him chuckle lightly.
You turn your head to face him, his dark, almost curls illuminated by the neon orange of his numerous monitors. His eyes meet yours, deep maroon paralysing you in place, peeking fangs slowing your breathing, chiselled features pinking your cheeks.
And you smile. A sickly sweet, beautifully innocent smile. Any other person would look away, grow red with shame, and maybe say something embarrassing. But you? You just smile.
Because you're painfully naive.
You blink up at him, wondering if he knows how you crave these sweet moments between the two of you. You hate how dependent you've become on him, how you can't get through the day without thinking of him and using his health as an excuse to come see him.
“Really?” you turn your head to face him, neck craned back so he gets a perfect view of your soft skin. “Do I look seven?”
Of course, you don't look seven. You look twenty, which you are. But you're mature and not in a creepy way. No one else would think twice about seeing if he's okay, and no adult would have their panties organised by colour like you do either.
The sound of his chewing eventually fills the bleak room. You can see him looking straight ahead through your peripheral.
“No.”
“A man of few words,” you grin.
“A girl of far too many.”
You aren't a girl. You’re a woman. You don't spend time chasing boys, you enjoy literature, and you have your whole life planned out. Kids don't do the things you do. Kids don't want a life with a decent man, with him.
“School’s boring,” you cut through the silence, voice soft, quiet, shy.
Relief washes over him like the first rainfall in the Sahara. He swallows- quickly, and brings his attention back to you- not that it ever really left you.
“It shouldn't be, you're smart, princessa, and if your professors are doing their job you should be engaged with their subjects,” he hates that he sounds so parental and demanding when he speaks to you but it's like a default setting. He expects the best from you because he knows you can achieve it.
You scoff and this time you don't bother hiding it at all. “Thanks,” you mutter dryly, “I’ll keep being smart and then school will be more exciting.”
He grimaces at your dull tone. He's used to your sparkly side, the smiles and the giggles and now you're acting your age, all attitude and sarcasm.
“That’s not what I meant,” he groans, his voice harsher than before.
“What did you mean then, Miguel?” you press on.
“I meant that you're smart enough to entertain yourself, unlike other people.”
And in its own strange way, his ‘complisult’ makes you smile. He sees who you are, that you aren't some immature child.
It feels nice not being viewed as a child for once. A slow, steady warmth travels through you. He's being nice to you, not a rare occurrence but uncommon enough to mean something.
Slowly, you edge your hand closer to his, fingers gently nudging against his own. You pause for a moment, knowing you’re pushing it and waiting for his reaction but when he doesn't pull away you give his hand a squeeze.
“Thanks,” your gentle voice making his cock harden beneath his suit, “in its own way, that was sweet.”
And you grin at him again. Soft lips beaming up at his plain expression as he tries not to think about how badly he needs some relief.
Against his better judgment, he squeezes your hand back. And the soft, nervous, almost squeak that escapes you makes it all worthwhile.
“It’s true. When I went to your universe,” not to jack off while you shower, “I saw your study notes. You work hard, princessa, and it's good, admirable,” hot.
All your life you be craved words so sweet. Someone to tell you that all those years of dedication to being the best and coming second is too, better than good. Someone to tell you that when they saw your study notes they didn't see you as dumb you have to revise but studious enough to want the best.
You don't even think twice about him being in your universe, just putting it down to an anomaly or another perfectly innocent reason.
He can smell it again, that dopamine rush. You pull yourself closer to him, taunting him unknowingly and let your head rest on his shoulder.
You do this often, allow yourself to lean against him, intertwine your fingers with his, plant endearing kisses to his stubbly cheeks when he helps you out. And you do it so secretly that it's almost sexual but the innocence you perform these acts with makes it feel painfully platonic.
All he can do is ride out this moment of pure torment. Cock stiff and thighs burning.
Deep down he knows he shouldn't be like this, savouring your innocence that he can so easily capture on cameras he can use later. You're so pure, sacred almost, that it feels wrong to even have his arms wrapped around your waist.
“Migs?” that nickname that only you get to use because if he gets to call you princessa its only fair.
Your hand slips off of his and moves to rest on his thigh. “Migs?” you say a little louder this time. He hums dully.
“Princessa?”
Sometimes you wonder if he knows how wet his voice makes you. The low rumble that passes through his chest, the silky smooth movements of his lips, the slight tinge of an accent that makes your cunt flutter.
You let your thumb travel over the ridges of his fingers, smooth over the peaks of his knuckles.
His hand is so big compared to yours, something that the two of you haven't ignored.
He wonders how the rest of you feels, past the tight lycra of your suit as it covers your wrists, against the fresh cotton of his bedsheets, flush against his chest.
The dull humming of the monitors accompanied by your heavy breathing and the subtle whirring of the random machinery warms up the silence between the two of you.
You shift yourself to face him, pretty lips pursed and brow furrowed.
Maybe it's because he's so safe right now. Or maybe it's because you failed your paper and his praise is all you need. But he looks painfully handsome.
Broad shoulders rising and falling with every breath. Soft lips parted in hunger. The sea of deep sepias and carmines that is his eyes.
Miguel has always been there for you. Well, maybe not always, but often enough. Your roommates being assholes? You can sleep at HQ. Suit ripped? He’ll make you a new one.
And in this moment, you can't see past that. He may be older, grey strands peppering his umber locks and worry lines framing his features, but that doesn't matter.
So you lean up close to him, faces inches apart. Just to smell him, just to see him, just to be near him, just to feel him.
He flinches at first, brow furrowed and eyes narrowed. His gaze runs up and down your figure, trying to figure out what you're doing, your innocent expression leaving far too much up for interpretation.
For a moment the two of you just stare at each other, arousal burning white-hot in your core and bodies thrumming with desire.
A calloused hand moves to cup your cheek and pull you closer. Miguel lets out a low sigh, hot breath tickling your face and making your nose scrunch in a way that can only be described as perfect.
Your breathing slows and your heart hammers. He's so close, soft lips just within reach.
“Can I?” his voice is almost a croak, a desperate plea.
He can't tear his eyes away from your quivering lips. He wants to feel them against his own, taste you, have your mouth in his possession.
You don't get time to finish your feeble “please” before he's pressing his lips against yours.
It's soft at first, the two of you gradually warming to the sensation of each other. But when you let out a soft sigh something inside him switches. All morals and guilt go completely out the window and his senses are filled with you.
His tongue probes hungrily at your lips, seeking access to the warmth of your mouth and you happily agree. His hands slide down to your hips, fingertips pressing into the soft flesh crudely hidden beneath your suit.
“Need you,” you groan, hands gripping his chest with desperation. He silences you with another kiss, tongue immediately attacking yours, too impolite, too hard, too impatient to wait for your sanction.
He's blinded by lust, a desire that's been building up inside him for too long. His arm snakes to the small of your back, protruding talons catching on the material of your suit. He pulls you into his lap and you nearly gasp at the sensation of his erection brushing against your clothed cunt.
You lean back slightly so you can look at him, chest rising and falling with each pant. “Say something,” you pout, his mutism making your head swarm with confusion, “let me hear your voice.”
The neediness of your tone makes him smile, a boyish, cheeky one that makes your stomach flutter.
“What do you want me to say?” he questions, fingers tracing up and down the bridge of your spine.
“Just… talk me through it,” you pause, cunt fluttering and thighs tensing, “it’s my first time,” you admit quietly. Your cheeks flush with embarrassment. It's something you've never admitted, viewing virginity as a burden more than the blessing men do.
“Who said I'm gonna fuck you?”
Oh.
You purse your lips, your smile faltering and skin prickling with embarrassment as you fidget on his lap. His cock strains against his suit, hips threatening to buck up when you unintentionally grind against him.
You look down and a smirk forms on your face. You press the heel of your palm against his erection, eyes widening with arousal at the whine that escapes him. “This did.”
You swear that for a moment you can see a glint of red in his eyes, much darker, meaner, than his usual cool mahogany.
“Don't,” he grunts, hand gripping your wrist.
The excited grin on your face brings him back. He can't do this to you. He can't take your innocence, be the one to steal what makes you so pure. He's done things he's ashamed of, killed, lied, hated. He isn't deserving of the sweet bliss that’s you.
Your lips fall into a disappointed pout. Have you done something wrong? Maybe you’ve been too eager?
“I… I'm sorry?” you pose your apology as a question, unsure of what's actually going on. You’re inexperienced but this… this isn't normal.
“No, mierda, no, princesa,” and his hands back on your cheek, thumb tracing over the curve of your vermillion. “No digas lo siento.” your brow furrows in confusion but he doesn't elaborate.
He wants to ruin you, corrupt your pretty pussy with his hot cum and watch it seep out in think dribbles before he can stuff it back in with his fingers. But he can't.
That sweet innocence in your eyes, lashes fluttering with arousal from a simple kiss. He can't do this to you.
“Look at me,” he commands and on instinct, your eyes meet his.
“Good Girl,” he croons.
“I'm confused, Migs,” you push his hand off your cheek softly, head cocked to the side, “you’re confusing me.”
He brings a hand to your cunt and he cups it, the heel of his palm digging into your cunt. “Let me do this instead, hmm?” you nod in agreement, head too fuzzy with the strange mixture of arousal and bewilderment to even process the jolt of pleasure that shot down your spine.
The sound of ripping draws your attention down to your arousal-slick folds but he clicks his tongue. “Eyes on me, chica,” his tone is slightly harsher now but his eyes are still warm.
You don't know what he's doing. If he's coming or going. If he's teasing you or allowing this to go further.
“Mi-” he presses his index finger to your lips, not that he needed more than his intense gaze to silence you.
“You said this is your first time?” you nod again.
“No one else has touched you?” his fingers part the tear in your suit, your damp panties on show for him.
“No one.”
His thumb starts to slowly circle your cotton-clothed clit eliciting a soft gasp from you.
“Do you want me to touch you, princessa?”
Your fingers dig into the muscle of his thighs but he doesn't flinch. A sharp talon nips at your weeping bud and you nearly cry. It sends a jolt of pain fused with sickly sweet pleasure coursing through your veins. “Asked you a question didn't I?”
You nod your head again, not knowing how to answer.
“Use your words.”
Your cunt is dribbling its juices all down your thighs- and he can smell it. His mouth is practically drooling at the scent it your arousal. He's trying so hard not to rip your suit all the way and split you open with his cock. But you're gentle, soft, sweet, delicate. So he has to be as well.
Taking a shaky, deep breath, you nod your head again, “I want you to touch me, Miguel.”
“Muy bein, princessa,” his thumb slips under the waistband of your panties and comes to rest on your clit but he doesn't stimulate you. Just leaves it resting on the hardened nub.
You whine at the lack of friction, hips trying to grind against his hand but his free hand holds you down.
“Migs, please,” you know you sound pathetically needy but you don't care. The man you've been lusting after since he first recruited you has his hand in your pants.
“Then keep looking at me,” he instructs, “wanna see your pretty face. Can you do that for me?” he grins at the twitching in your cunt caused by his words. That's all the confirmation he needs.
His thumb begins its slow pattern around the hood of your clit while his other hand rests on your waist, keeping you planted firmly on his lap. And maybe so you can feel how big he is.
His hands are surprisingly gentle. You've seen him kill before, seen the plethora of blood he can draw from someone with one fell swoop. Yet he's always been so careful with you, right now being no exception. Maybe that's what’s drawn you to him, the idea of him viewing you as something so sacred that he can't bring himself to damage your fragile body.
The tedious speed he's using is purposefully slow. He wants to draw this out for as long as possible, keep you a squirming mess on his lap, your sweet nectar running down to his thighs. But you want more; you’re too shy to ask for it but you want it.
You press your lips to his again, tongue slipping into his mouth almost sloppily. He's taken aback at first by your sudden burst of confidence but he doesn't protest. The hand that was resting in your hip moves to the back of your head to press you deeper into the kiss.
You whine hungrily and he rewards you with a faster pace. Your thighs clench around him, not actually expecting your plan to work. Your eyes flutter for a moment but he grips your chin, forcing you to keep looking at him.
“Princessa, I'll stop,” his warning is heed enough.
Your mind’s a foggy blur of arousal and pure bliss. He keeps toying with your clit, slowing down when your gaze falters but speeding up and rewarding you if you've kept eye contact.
“Please, I'll be good, so good for you,” you mewl, craving his kind words of praise again.
“Will you? Will you let me see those pretty lips of yours smile so sweetly for me while I make you feel good?” you nod your head excessively, mumbled “yes I will”’s and “good for you”’s spilling from your lips.
The hot coil of pleasure tightens with each flick of his distal. More and more sweet moans spew from your loose hanging mouth which are just music to his ears. Your leaky hole clenches around nothingness but you're too shy to ask for more. Miguel’s thumb is good enough but what you really crave is that hard cock that's pushing up against your stomach.
Soft, sticky clicking sounds mellow in the warmth of the rooms atmosphere, arousal blending in smoothly along with the scent of your nearing climax. He can sense it, your hips stuttering and your nails digging into the meat of his chest. But he can't let you go just yet.
“Hold it for me,” its a command, not a request.
You bite your lower lip, eyes nearly watering as you try you hardest to hold back. Your poor cunt throne needily while it continues to pump hot juices all over his hand. “I-I don't know how,” you blubber, thighs trembling and hands twitching.
Your body runs white hot with pleasure while your mind teeters on the edge of climax.
“I know you can, be a good girl, princessa,” he pressed earnestly, two-toned lips falling into that signature smirk.
You let your head come to rest in the crook of his neck. He flinches at the warmth of your breath and grabs the back of your hair roughly. You whine at the sharp tug but don't protest further.
“Fuck did I tell you ‘bout looking away?” his voice is almost harsh but you don't care. Your whole body is tingling with so much euphoria, blood pumping hot with pleasure, that you don't even care about his talon catching on your clit.
You’re so close to cumming, to reaching that paradise he's dangling in front of you like a carrot on a stick. “Let me, I-i can't, Migs.”
He frowns.
Once you're done that's it. He has to let you go, push off his lap and keep you at arm's length. But he can't bring himself to do that, get rid of your warmth and tiny frame.
“Migs? Please, let me…” you cut yourself with a silent moan.
Your mouth falls slack, eyes widening for a moment before fluttering closed. Warmth washes over you, trickling down your spine like honey from a jar. And for a moment you think you've gone deaf because Miguel’s lips are moving but you can't figure out what he's saying.
Your arousal spills from your cunt and all the way down his hands in a warm, blanketing trinket of your pleasure.
He clicks his tongue in disappointment but lets you ride out your high with his thumb remaining on your pussy.
“Fuck,” you breathe, voice cracking in a way that only makes his cock harden.
“Mmmm, did my princessa enjoy herself?” you look up at him, eyes glazed over with lust.
Your orgasm took enough energy for you to be exhausted now. You can barely lift your head let alone reply to him. When you try to smile your eyes just roll back slightly, your lashes fluttering and your nose scrunching.
You’ve come before, plenty of times, but this feels different. This time it feels all warm and gooey like it's going to stick to you forever. Maybe it's because it's Miguel’s fingers instead of your own toying with your cunt or maybe it's because you got to hold onto him. Either way, you've just cum all over his hands and can't form a proper sentence now.
Miguel smiles down at you, revelling in your blissed-out expression. Knowing that he's drawn this pleasure from you makes his insides churn.
“Pretty Girl,” he coos, hand smoothing your spine, “so pretty for me, hmm? Cumming just from me playing with her pretty pussy.” as if to prove a point, he spreads your sticky folds open with his thumb two middle fingers, a soft gooey sound catching your attention.
“Wonder if your cunt is just as pretty?” be slides a harsh finger inside with a grunt, eliciting a sharp gasp from you, “want me to fuck your tight hole, princessa?”
And you nod. Too fucked out, too tired, too needy, too in love with him without either of you knowing it yet, to push him away.
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lynnielovestlou · 29 days
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winner winner (ellabs x reader)
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꩜ synopsis: abby and ellie challenge each other to see who can make you squirt first.
꩜ cw: SQUIRTING!!!! , overstim , threesome , smut with absolutely no plot , dirty talk , pet names , spanking , poosay slapping , dom! abby , dom! ellie , sub! reader , tummy buldge , mention of masturbation , this is kinda short i'm sorry
masterlist
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜
the three of you had been at this for fifteen minutes already. it happened when you mentioned to them that you'd never squirted before. of course, being the two numbskulls that they are, they took that as a challenge.
so now you were laying on your back in bed, abby between your legs and ellie at your side.
ellie was holding your hand, rubbing your knuckles with one hand and rubbing your clit with her other. abby, of course, was wearing her biggest, longest strap she has, and she's pounding into you while she cradled your head.
pathetic little whimpers we're escaping your lips with each thrust, but all you could do was take it.
"shhh... sh sh sh." ellie coos, "come on baby, you can take more."
abby is too focused to speak, hitting that spot inside of you repeatedly. your insides were probably bruised now, and she could feel you clenching around her.
"she's gettin' tight, ellie." abby says. ellie snickers, pressing down and pinching your clit. you moan and your back arches off the bed.
you flail your legs, trying to close them in retaliation, but abby keeps them open. "uh-uh. keep 'em wide and spread for me, sweet girl. you close, huh? yeah, i can feel ya." her words send you over the edge and you're coming for the third time tonight. your entire body convulses with pleasure, and both girls marvel at the way your face contorts.
"no way in hell i'm letting you win." ellie mutters to abby under her breath, shooing her away from you once your high is over.
she gives your cunt a few firm slaps before impaling you with her silicon dick. she bottoms out in one go, the tip of her dick kissing your cervix sloppily. hers is much longer than abby's, making a little bump in your lower tummy.
"s' too big." you whine when ellie's hand meets your stomach, pressing down on the little bump she made.
"you've got it, sweet girl. come on, baby, come on." she whispers in your ear.
abby chuckles as she watches this all unfold. she let ellie go first to get you nice and stimulated, in hopes that she could be the one to make you squirt. but the way that ellie was slamming roughly into you made her believe that that wasn't going to happen.
"hurts." you groan, eyes closing.
"keep your eyes open. watch ellie fuck you." abby commands, so naturally you listen. you open your eyes to watch her slip in and out of you. your thighs were covered in slick, and your next orgasm was coming.
ellie's pants and heavy breaths only turned you on more, and it was getting harder to sit still. ellie had a shit-eating grin on her face, knowing what was about to happen.
"scream my name, honey. come on, let me hear you." she coaxes, and you gush at her words, doing exactly that. you yelled her name, in contrast to the little whimpers and quiet whines you were eliciting earlier. you'd never felt more euphoric in your entire life. sure, you'd come on your own hands, their hands, their straps, and even their mouths several times. but nothing compared to the tingles you felt on every inch of your body.
the sheets were wet.
ellie entire lower half was wet.
you were wet, laying in a puddle of your own substances.
ellie laughs and cheers, "you fucking squirted!"
abby groans in defeat after seeing the utter mess you made. her eyebrows were squeezed together, her bulky hand in a tense fist. she shook her head silently, as if contemplating punching ellie in the jaw.
but ellie was too busy celebrating to notice, "fuck yeah! i did it!" she says, pecking you in every little crease and corner her lips can reach.
you were too fucked-out to comment on her celebrating, or abby's defeat, for that matter.
"how d'you feel, sweet pea?" abby is first to check on you after ellie disappears to go fetch some towels.
"fucking amazing." you mumble, nestling comfortably into the crease between her shoulder and neck, "never knew it could feel like that."
she chuckles, kissing your hairline, "there's plenty more where that came from. next time, i'll be the one to make you squeal like that, hm?"
you laugh quietly at her words, nodding.
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driaswrld · 7 months
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let me see ya, baby — gojo satoru.
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in which satoru is just an idiot in love.
i js rlly needed some gojo fluff rn
maybe a lil self indulgent. fem!reader // pure fluff. maybe a few curse words? that's all
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"so you blocked me, huh?"
you hiss your teeth, leaning back into the soft cushioned sofa of the teachers' lounge, one leg crossed over the other, dragging a manicured nail across the hem of your skirt. here satoru goes again. and on your work phone nonetheless.
"i didn't block you, i muted the chat."
and maybe you're being a little petty. before satoru left a day ago for a mission, you both argued about something — you're not sure you even remember the extent of the fight but you know it was about something along the lines of him never showing up on time for anything, like ever.
from megumi's parent-teacher meetings to dates to his own teaching deadlines, your boyfriend was just plain tardy. and quite frankly, you wanted to teach him a lesson on how it feels to be left waiting.
"so you're out here turning off my notifications and not answering my messages?" there's a shrill of static over the line, and you swear all you can hear is a shril shriek— almost like he's about to throw a tantrum like he always does. it's insufferable — but also endearing in a sick way. when satoru gojo isn't given attention, he's like a madman. a deprived toddler. he's a manchild.
"i have work to do, satoru." you sighed, and he scoffs, loud. "suuuuper busy right now, so i'll just call you back after i—"
"you think my six eyes don't work or something?" you hear a door click shut on his end of the line, and you raise an eyebrow, standing from your seat immediately to look around the room, twirling around then back again.
"not there yet, dummy." he laughs, and you soften — just a little, at least.
"you came back early — you shouldn't even be on campus." you stall, walking over to the door to lock it, just for extra measure, you're expecting he's probably already walking down the hallway right now.
"uh huh," he mumbles, taking long strides down the hall towards the teachers' lounge. "missed you too, babe — let's makeout and makeup."
you roll your eyes, leaning against the door as you press the phone against your air. "that's not happening!"
"that's your problem—" you groan, tapping your nails against the plastic of your phonecase. "you never take arguments seriously. they're called arguments for a reason, you idiot!"
what's the point? arguing with him is like fighting a brick wall. he doesn't listen, he's braindead. your boyfriend is a braindead child. it's all hopeless isn't it?
"so, you don't miss me juuust a lil' bit?"
you feel his presence before you hear his voice echoing from outside the door and not your phone. it's almost as if you can feel him staring at you, and you stare at the door, slowly shoving your phone into your back pocket. you can imagine the smug grin on his face.
"no, not even a little bit." you reach forward and twist the doorknob, pulling the door open wide enough to get a good look at him. and the moment you do, all teasing and faux pettiness is gone.
satoru gojo, your sweet idiot of a boyfriend is standing in front of you, blindfold loose around his collar and eyes hung low. he's in the same clothes he left in yesterday, and to you, he looks exhausted. yet, he's grinning down at you like the cat that caught the canary, victorious.
"satoru—" your voice dies in your throat and you usher him inside the lounge and out of the doorway, your hands finding his blondfold first as you get on your tiptoes to reach.
"baby, hey— wait a minute—!"
you ignore him and push the blindfold back up to his eyes, the softest twinge of a frown tugging at the corner of your mouth.
"you that eager to see me?" satoru tilts his head to look down at you, and a smirk curls on his lips. "worried about me? thought you said you didn't miss me?"
"shut up."
he can't help how his heart flutters, and he commits you to memory, here in this moment. something so small, that means everything to him. and he reaches up to tug his blindfold down again but you stop him with your hand on his and a disappointed look. "don't overdo it, 'toru."
he's insufferable. he never minds his own health after missions, never listens to you, lies about being fine—
"im fiineee!"
"you have a headache, don't you?"
he pouts, ridiculously so. "only a little one." he grumbles and a snort escapes you followed by a chuckle. and with such a soft moment of distraction he grabs ahold of your hand in his and lets the blindfold drop regardless.
"satoru." you warn.
"what?" he grins, wide and almost mischievous, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer, melding your bodies together. his muscles relax instantly after twenty four long hours without you. "just wanna look at my girl. you gonna get mad at me about that too?"
"i hate you—" you murmur just as he leans in, grumbling against his lips.
"love you more, you evil little ray of sunshine—" he points his tongue and licks the corner of your mouth.
"ew, 'toru!" you cry and he laughs. "why are you even back so quick?"
satoru shrugs, albeit guiltily, giving you a boyish grin, crystalline blue orbs admiring you. "you wouldn't answer my calls, so—"
"you're so—" he cuts you off with a soft kiss to your lips, and then he pulls away, almost too proud of himself. "sexy? handsome? strong? absolutely ripped?"
"—stupid."
to think he cut his mission short just because you wouldn't answer his calls. satoru gojo, the man you are...
"well, can you blame me?" he sighs, wiggling his head to nuzzle in the crook of your neck, your hands reach up to stroke his hair, and he's like putty in your arms with the way he melts into a hot puddle of lovesickness. "jus' really wanted t' see you."
"this doesn't mean i'm not mad at you anymore, satoru."
truly, you forgot what you even ignored him for. maybe you've been too lenient— no wonder he gets away with everything with you.
"yeah?" he mumbles, and he can't help but smile. leave it up to you to be such a hardass. "cuddle me and i'll make up for it later?"
"you're spoiled."
"you love me." he sings into your neck, and you sigh, a laugh leaving you.
"way too much."
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earthtooz · 18 days
Text
gn!reader, domesticity with aventurine, inspired by his latest art, reader calls aventurine 'good boy', unedited i wrote this bc im weak
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"Alright. I understand. Let's schedule the interview for today."
It's bright. Too bright. The sun is in your eyes, what a rude way to be awakened.
Behind you, you hear the velvety voice of your lover and the indistinct chatter from the person you suspect he is calling. It is no strange occurrence for Aventurine to be on a call first thing in the morning, some business partner or boss of his ringing his phone before he can even roll out of bed.
At this point, you've grown too accustomed to it, so you merely roll over and wrap your arm around him, curling in to his side.
You don't get to see the smile on his face, but you can hear it in his voice as an arm of his wraps itself around you.
"I'll be there in an hour tops. Before then, try not to bother me too much." Aventurine hangs up the call, throwing his phone to the side and placing a kiss to the top of your head. "Good morning, pretty."
"Good morning, handsome," you murmur into the expensive silk of his sleepwear, sneaking your hand under the soft fabric to draw small hearts on the side of his ribs. "Do you need to leave?"
"I have some time beforehand. How'd you sleep?"
"Good. Want some more time with you, though."
You finally look up at him, perching yourself onto your elbow to meet his alluring gaze. Here, he admires the subtle ways sleep clings to your expression, the way you yawn and rub your eyes- oh, how fortunate he is to get to wake up beside you everyday.
"Shame, you should probably get up soon."
"Are you trying to kick me out?" He whines. "We still have a few minutes before I really need to get up."
You laugh affectionately and it's music to Aventurine's ears. "Last time you said that you were late by a considerable amount of time. Come on, the IPC needs you."
He sighs before rolling over, encasing you in his embrace. "The IPC can cry about it, I care about you more."
"How cute," you whisper before pressing a kiss on the space between his eyebrows, your action causing him to scrunch his nose. "But still, why don't I go prepare some breakfast for us?"
Aventurine grumbles something incoherent, but judging by the way his arms tighten around you, he's much prefers your current situation. "Can I get a kiss?"
You press one to the corner of his mouth and he scoffs. "That was nothing, give me a proper one."
"Only good boys get what they want," you reprimand.
"Pretty please?"
You smile before leaning in to gently slot your lips with his and Aventurine's heart skips a beat. It's an uncomfortable sensation but he's become accustomed to it, even falling in love with it. He'll fall in love with anything as long as it's you, even the vulnerable sensation of being helplessly devoted to another person.
It's perfect, if he could stay like this forever, he would.
You're perfect, he wants you to be by his side forever.
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© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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angelltheninth · 2 months
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Faster Than Healing Magic
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, angst, injury, hurt/comfort, cuddles, soothing kisses
Word count: 0.6k
A/N: Haven't done angst yet and I wouldn't be me without writing angst.
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You kept a smile on your face while Alastor chatted with Charlie, Vaggie and Lucifer, partially complaining about his, and your, new tower, the bedroom, pretty much everything. He was being petty as fuck. Which meant he wasn't doing as bad as you thought he was.
Still he wasn't doing great either.
"Do not give me those big, sad eyes darling. This is but a scratch." He boasted as he got changed for bed. The cut was still bleeding and it looked quite deep. "No hugs for your hero? I thought held my own pretty well." So he said but from his slightly tilted ears you knew he didn't feel that way entirely.
It was more then just his body that got hurt, it was also his ego. Alastor had that in spades. And while you can't really do anything about that problem you can do something about the cut across his torso.
"Alright mister tall, red and spooky, get on the bed." You pointed at it expectedly.
"Oh-ho! So we are having that kind of celebration are we?" Alastor wiggled his eyebrows at you, "I'm not particularly in the mood but I suppose surviving a big battle would constitute some-" You took him by the hand and pushed him to sit down, his deer tail moving in excitement. "Aggressive."
You felt your face and neck flushing. It wasn't fair that he could tease you like this at times like this. "Not that! And you called me a pervert. I want to bandage your injury. Clean it too, no way am I letting it get infected on my watch."
He sat on the bed cross-legged on the bed, humming a tune that was way too cheerful for someone in his current perdicament. But if he wasn't doing that and smiling then you would really be worried.
This was a good sign.
You came back with bandages for him and sat in front of him, leaning in close to first clean and stitch up the wound. As your fingers approached him you glanced up, confirming that he was okay with your touch. He was always sensitive about that so you thought it was better safe then sorry. Whatever he did to treat this cut it was very sloppy. Probably because he wanted to get back as soon as possible.
He had so many smaller cuts all over his body, his chest, back, stomach, arms, legs, even his neck. You can't imagine the kind of life he lived before this and he would never tell you the stories of these scars. What little you did know of him when he was alive was information he shared willingly during pillow talk.
What surprised you, and alarmed you, was that he never flinched while you worked on the stitching. He seemed like he was enjoying it.
"All clean and sowed up. Put your hands up for me, I need to get this all the way around." Alastor didn't protest, he grinned wider when you had to be face to face with him to get the bandages on tight enough, "Not too tight?"
"Not at all. Thank you for your hard work darling. But you know I don't mind a little blood." Alastor patted his chest, examening your work. He seemed pleased enough despite his protests.
You cringed, "But I do, Al, I don't want blood all over the bed, or me." It seemed like it would be quite the gruesome sight to wake up to. Shivering from the images in your head you made him scoot up to his spot as you took yours, right next to him, your head against his chest. "If you're in pain wake me up. Promise me."
"Of course, I promise. You really do worry too much over me. I am much tougher than I look, you'll see, by tomorrow morning this will be but a scar and a memory." Alastor kissed the crown of your head softly, he was always soft and gentle with you in moments like these.
"I hope so." At least you knew the full story behind this scar, and maybe someday he'll tell you about the rest.
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junityy · 1 month
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🕸 — stay.
pairing. spider-man!jake x fem!reader genre. fluff, slight angst, slightly suggestive?? wc. 2k warnings. for context, this is the #infamous scene in the amazing spiderman 1 when peter shows up hurt at gwens window!! and yes im including the lizard LMAO and jake is kinda down Bad note. THIS TURNED OUT SO LONG.... and also NOT how i wanted but erm well.. spiderman jake is truly all i can think about so i hope you enjoy!!!
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You were just finishing up your chemistry homework when Jake leaned against your window frame outside, and lightly knocked against your window. By now, this had become a routine-like thing, so you didn't even flinch.
The first time he did that, though, you felt slightly creeped out before letting him in regardless - because, after all, you do live on the 21st floor. The second time he did that, you started getting used to it. After all, your boyfriend just so turned out to be Spider-man. It was just something you'd get used to sooner rather than later.
Turning around and telling him, “Come in.”, you could already feel your lips form into a smile like that of a little kid's. Jake does as you said and opens the window, slowly climbing inside while you quickly save your homework document in the meantime.
“So, big guy, what was saving New York like today?” you joke before turning around to look at him. Though, once you see Jake holding onto your armchair for stability, your smile fades as quickly as it appeared and you get up when your eyes scan his body - three major scratches across his chest, along with other small wounds across his face (though these are a given by now). But also- scratches? No, it looks more like someone tried to slice him up with.. you don't even know what. Knives? This big? You can only imagine how he got these.
“Different, for sure.” he replies in a joking manner (even though there is no smile), and you can hear just a tiny bit of the pain he must be in in his voice.
“Jake?” you end up whispering as you walk towards him, and he simply lets himself fall onto your armchair before you sit down beside him.
“Seems that reptiles aren't my biggest fans.” he jokes; now smiling as he lets his head fall back while trying to catch his breath. In the meantime, you can't help but scan his wounds up close and - it's safe to say, someone (or something) possibly did try to slice him up from the looks of it.
“Reptiles?” you repeat, the confusion in your voice being very easy to identify; something Jake had already seen coming though, so that is far from surprising.
Before speaking up to elaborate further, he lifts his head again to look at you up close, then explains; “Remember that thing on the bridge yesterday? The thing that was ‘bigger’ than a human.. Well, turns out it's actually some kind of giant, mutant lizard. And it's living in the sewers, apparently.”
“A what?” raising your eyebrows in shock immediately, you can't help but blink in utter confusion a few times - at least before your eyes find their way back to his chest, and some dots start to connect by themselves. Well, his wounds make a little sense now at least. Still, neither of you could deny that ‘giant mutant lizard’ doesn't sound absolutely insane - so naturally, it takes you a second to process and.. imagine what that fight must've looked like just now.
“You're..” you frown; making eye contact with your boyfriend again after breaking it shortly. Jake on the other hand can't seem to even think about taking his eyes off of you. As per usual. “You're telling me you're fighting.. giant lizards?” you simply add. You're also certain that no matter how you would've worded this, it would sound equally just as crazy.
But, well.. your boyfriend IS Spider-man after all. So really, nothing should probably surprise you anymore. If you had to guess, things would, most likely, only get crazier from here on.
“Yeah. Well, they suck.” Jake scoffs, followed by another smile on his face, but he quickly groans in pain right after; your eyes still fixated on his wounds. It’s not like he'll die of them, so you try telling yourself to stop being so dramatic, but still.. it's a sight you'd rather not get too used to.
You hate seeing him like this. Usually, you're pretty used to seeing him with small or at least smaller wounds by now, but this? This is.. low-key crazy. You keep telling yourself that he is literally Spider-man, and that there's.. kinda no way to avoid getting hurt, yet all you hope for is to see him in one piece every single time. And it seems that the longer he keeps doing what he's doing, the chances of seeing him at all keep getting slimmer. Which is something that truly keeps you up at night, easily causing goosebumps all over your body.
“Hey.” Jake quietly says, simply to bring you back to reality once he notices you're lost in thoughts, and the next thing you feel is his hand on your cheek, softly cupping it.
Once you're actually back, you properly reconnect the eye contact you so love with him again. “What is it?” he questions not too long after, barely whispering while trying to read your expression. You, on the other hand, just remain silent; swallowing, before taking a sharp breath.
“Take this off, I'll take care of it.” pretty much avoiding the question, you point to his suit instead (or at least the upper part of it) - since, every time Jake has come here, you took care of him and his injuries. And today was gonna be no different.
While he makes sure the city is okay, you need to make sure he's okay. And vice versa, Jake has to make sure you're okay, by coming back to you every time like promised. New York could be safe for all he wants - only seeing your face every time makes him feel truly safe and sound.
And so again, he does as you say; moving to sit on the floor while leaning against your bed, he watches you do your little magic in silence. Silence, awe, admiration - it's all the same when it comes to you, really. He doesn't even deserve you, Jake thinks to himself. Like he does everyday.
Your ‘little magic’ though, simply includes disinfecting his wounds first; a process the both of you have gotten used to by now.
Once he's rolled down his suit a little, you begin to carefully pat his chest with the tissue again and again, so careful as if he'd break if you made one wrong move. Which.. seems sort of funny. You're patching up the Spider-man after all.
Jake, in the meantime, can't seem to take his eyes off of you again, so he simply doesn't. Instead, he watches your every move like his life depends on it. The look in your eyes has changed. You've gone quiet. Like, awfully quiet.
“Y/N.” he tries again after just a moment - after you clearly avoided his question the first time. When you look up just the tiniest bit, you're immediately met with his eyes on you already in no time. Oh. His eyes. “What is it?” he repeats, hoping to get you to talk this time.
Looking at him, it takes you a few moments to even form a somewhat coherent thought. Sometimes you wish you could just stop time and stay like this. With him, here. Forever.
Sure, being Spider-man's girlfriend had its perks - like Jake taking you with him to swing around New York together. Surely.. an original experience! But it also meant praying he'd come home to you every time there was trouble in the city.
“I'm just scared for you, is all.” you sigh quietly, tilting your head a tiny bit. For just a moment, silence enters, and it feels like you're falling in love with him all over again. You're just glad he's here.
“You won't lose me.” Jake assures you in the softest tone possible and immediately brings his hand back to your cheek, only to bring your face closer to his. Close enough to place a kiss on your lips, a reassuring one. A kiss that, as you both know, says something words wish they could truly encapsulate. Breaking the kiss for a short, simple “I promise.”, he immediately reconnects your lips again like he'd suffocate if he didn't.
What starts as a lovely, reassuring kiss, quickly seems to turn into something much more intimate when you feel Jake rest his other hand on your waist only to pull you as close as possible; to feel your body right against his.
Spider-man might have impressive healing abilities that are above those of the average person, but Jake felt as if having you near him was already enough healing.
“I love you.” he breathes into the kiss, and quickly tries to catch his breath when you do the same for a second. Your faces still dangerously close, all you seem to be able to get out is a “I love you too.” that sounds very out of breath, like you were the one fighting a giant mutant lizard just before.
Bringing your hand up to rest on the side of his neck, Jake can't help but sigh when he backs off a tiny bit, only so he can get a good look at you. God, you're beautiful he thinks to himself. Basically looking at you the same way he did when he first told you he loved you, he automatically moves the few strands of hair out of your face; tucking them behind your ear, while his eyes simply shine with admiration. But mostly love.
“I just love you, Y/N.” your boyfriend repeats while shaking his head slightly, and sounding completely hopeless as if he just accepted that he is, indeed, hopelessly in love with you. Though, that was more or less the case anyway.. it still is, actually. Watching his eyes go back and forth between your eyes and lips, Jake speaks up again in a low voice, “You won't lose me.”. However this time, it's a promise rather than a reassurance.
Your eyes lighting up with pure love at his words and the look in his eyes, you can't seem to hide the way your lips are forming into another tiny smile - so you decide to just let them speak by placing them on his once again.
It's like your lips were perfectly made for each other, especially when Jake tilts his head a tiny bit more to deepen the kiss - his hand still on your neck, and if it were to go after him, he'd never remove it again. It's like you were perfectly made for each other.
“Jake.” you mumble into the kiss, yet keep it going because his lips feel a little too good moving against yours. Although you don't wanna let go, you (sadly) do end up breaking the kiss - which causes Jake to immediately look at you as you're gathering your thoughts one by one.
“I need to ask you a favour. It'll sound really selfish, though.” you begin quietly, only to receive a promising nod from his side, waiting for you to continue curiously while his eyes go back and forth between your eyes and lips again. Swallowing, you carefully ask, “You know I love that you're Spider-man, but can you just be Jake for tonight and stay?” Yeah, you were right about it sounding kinda selfish. Jesus.
But, like, it's true, and you couldn't really figure out a better way to word it. I mean, obviously you love that he's Spider-man - literally who wouldn't? But it's true that you love Jake Sim more. Even if just a tiny bit, which is why you want, - or need, actually - him with you tonight. Just Jake. Just the two of you.
“It doesn't sound selfish.” is the first thing he says in response, slightly shaking his head for further assurance. You're not only glad about it, but you feel your heartbeat increase rapidly when you see yet another smile form on his face, which (thank god), he doesn't even try to hide as it's getting too big. “Actually,” he lightly scoffs, biting on his lip as you watch him do so (it drives you nuts every time).
“I was hoping you'd say that, princess.” is the last thing he says before pulling you in for a kiss much, much more intimate than the ones before.
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taglist @tyunni @geombyu @jaeyunverse @yjwfav @sieuneo @beombisou @neos127
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risuola · 8 months
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FACE MASSAGE — F. READER x SUKUNA RYOMEN ft. Yuji Itadori
You give your boyfriend a nice, relaxing face massage when Sukuna, being bored out of his mind, takes over Yuji’s body.
cw: fluff, Itadori is 18 and is a vessel for Sukuna — 1,3k words
a/n: alrighty, this one I wrote randomly thinking of how the lines actually are quite a good guide for a face massage (also, if you never had face or a scalp massage, you're missing out!). i usually write Sukuna as his separate person, but here he's in a vessel. it's nothing but purely fluffed up piece of late-night babbling, enjoy 🩷
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It was already late, the clock showed almost 11pm, but you were not asleep. Yuji had just gotten home, taken a shower, and breathed out loudly, whining to heavens about how he had worked his butt off during the training session with Gojo. Your boyfriend came back all tired, and the hot shower didn't do much to soothe his strained muscles.
"I'm soooo tired," he whined again, and you couldn't help but smile at the adorable pout his lips had formed as he walked into the room you shared with him.
"'My poor thing," you cooed, kissing his forehead as he sat down next to you. "How about I give you a little face massage?"
"Yes, please," Itadori nodded vigorously and you giggled as you instructed him how to position himself and when you had his head comfortably over your lap, you warmed up a nice portion of face cream in your palms.
"Relax for me, baby," you told him, and he closed his eyes the moment your fingers made contact with his skin.
Yuji loved the magic your hands performed upon his aching muscles, and he found head and face massages particularly relaxing, so it wasn't surprising when he began to doze off in a matter of moments. With him half-asleep, you could take your time to admire the boy who had shamelessly stolen your heart with just one of his wide and extremely kind smiles, and as you glided your fingers smoothly across his forehead, down his temples, cheekbones, and jaw, you fell in love all over again. At first you were extremely gentle, stroking along his features, warming the skin as you went, before applying more pressure to the knots under his skin.
You rubbed small circles across his forehead, paying a little more attention to the space between his eyebrows and near his temples before lowering your hands to work the lotion into the large muscles over his cheeks. Using your thumbs, you forced the tension away with enough pressure to make Yuji purr softly. Then something unexpected happened. Black, tattoo-like lines appeared under your fingers and you slowed your movements, startled by the sight.
You knew that there is a curse living rent-free in your boyfriend, and you've seen Sukuna before, but he had never come out like that, for no reason, without a fight, without a single trigger, so you had no idea what to expect.
"Continue," he ordered, and you swallowed, pressing your fingertips back to his cheeks. Ironically, the lines that adorned his face made for a perfect guide for the massage, and you unconsciously followed them.
"Is there a reason for your appearance now?" you asked cautiously, keeping your fingernails away from the extra pair of eyes as you brushed over the bones beneath them.
"Nothing in particular," he replied lightly, looking up at you as his expression turned more serious. "Although I don't like you looking at me from above."
"You're literally on my lap."
"That's why I'll allow it, once. As for why," he relaxed his face again as you slid down his cheeks to work the muscle around his mouth and along his jawline. "Can you imagine how bored I am inside this brat?"
"I'm afraid not."
"You can't, that's right." A sigh left Sukuna's mouth. "What a pity, I'm bored out of my mind."
"I see, but please don't tire Yuji any more, he's already exhausted."
"You should worry about yourself rather than him being tired."
"I probably should, but if you were to decide to kill me now, you wouldn't get to experience the wonders of my scalp massage, so if you're okay with such a loss..."
You were really pushing his buttons here, being way too brave for your own good, but he seemed comfortable with the situation, which gave you hope that you wouldn't be decapitated anytime soon.
"Proceed then, and I'll make my decision afterward."
You finished his facial massage with a few light strokes along his features and wiped your hands with a tissue to remove any excess cream that hadn't absorbed yet, before you sink your hands into his hair. "Could you flip over to your stomach?" Once that was done, and Sukuna turned almost too obediently as you guided his head back to your lap, you used your fingers to brush through his blush-toned hair, pushing it back and purposefully scratching the skin between the strands as you dragged your hands to the nape of his neck. Once again, you used circular motions and quite a bit of pressure to stimulate the circulation and relax the tense muscles. You knew it was pleasurable, you knew how Yuji's body reacted to your touch and the fact that it was the King of Curses at this moment couldn't change that. The only thing different was the silence, which would normally be filled with constant mewling and whimpering from your boyfriend, but you couldn't expect those from Sukuna. Frankly, you'd be startled if he suddenly started purring.
As you worked your magic, the man remained calm, his cheek pressed against your thigh and his arms behind your back and around your legs, and it didn't really bother you too much. His touch was almost non-existent, he just kept his hands there because they had to go somewhere.
"Do you find this acceptable?" you asked quietly, lowering your fingers to graze the back of his neck. Your thumbs slid down the line of muscles that connected them to his shoulders, and he moved his arms down, giving you more access to that area.
"Acceptable is a good term," he muttered, exhaling deeply as you firmly squeezed the shoulder muscles, working out the tight knots there. Normally, this would turn Itadori into a whining mess, needy of affection and ready for endless cuddles, but for Sukuna, you put more effort into what you were doing. It felt strange. Technically, it was still your boyfriend's body that you had touched many times before, but somehow it felt like you were massaging a foreign man. Even though your fingertips knew the dips and curves of his silhouette, your mind found it hard to process.
Lost in thoughts, you let your hands go lower, onto the shoulder blades and near the spine, following the line down, working your palms into his toned back, only snapping back to reality when one of your hands brushed over the stitches. Oh yes, Yuji had injured himself the day before and because of Shoko's absence, he had to have the wound stitched up. He shouldn't be training with that at all, but he's so stubborn...
"Sukuna?", you addressed him quietly, trying to sound as respectful and polite as possible.
"What do you want?" he replied, his voice indifferent, but he knew from your tone that you needed something from him.
"There is a wound on Yuji's back. Could you heal it so that I can massage that area as well?"
“I don’t mind the pain. I don’t feel it,” he informed bluntly.
“But I can’t massage over stitches. I know it’s nothing for you, so pleaseee?”
"You're pushing your luck, you know that, right?" Sukuna laughed. Oh, how sneaky you were, he loved it, and it's only because he really enjoyed the massage that he granted your request. The sewn-up wound healed before your eyes and black stitches fell away. Your whole face lit up as you ran your hand over the spot.
"Thank youu," you smiled, and as if on autopilot, your body bent forward. You planted a soft kiss on the top of his head before you could think twice and only realized what you'd done when it was too late. Oh. "I'm sorry," you muttered quickly.
"You're so fucking clingy," he scoffed. "Humans..."
"Don't be mad, I'm just grateful," you cooed, returning your nails to his scalp to hopefully distract him from wanting to cut you to ribbons, and it seemed to do the trick as he melted over your thigh, relaxing his body once again.
In few minutes the black markings disappeared, your boyfriend was back and you were left confused but relieved.
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haikyuuhoo · 6 months
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tired eyes
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pairing: gojo x reader
wc: 790
warnings: light angst, minor manga spoilers
a/n: tagging @shotorus in this bc sel your sleepy gojo thoughts made me unable to stop thinking about this idea I've wanted to write. I know this is so different to the vibes of what you were talking about but I figured you deserved the tag since this lil drabble finally made its way out of my head bc of you <3 (pls don't feel like you need to read this I'm nervy just tagging you lol)
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Gojo’s keys clang loudly against the bowl on the table in the entryway, and he has half a mind to cringe at the noise, seeing as it’s so late and you’re probably asleep by now. He unzips his jacket as he drags his feet in the direction of the bedroom, heaving out a sigh and finally letting his shoulders relax a little, letting some of the tension he’s been harboring for days leave his body. He's so tired that he feels like he could fall asleep in his clothes without even crawling beneath the duvet, though he knows he should at least shower first. But that's all forgotten when he steps into the warm glow spilling into the hallway from the light on your nightstand, and he hesitates for a moment when he notices that you're not asleep—in fact, you're very much awake, like you've been waiting for him.
Your gaze darts up when you see the figure in the doorway, a smile immediately lighting up your face. “You’re home,” you say as you set aside the book you were reading and pull your headphones off.
Gojo raises an eyebrow, making his way to the edge of the bed where you rise onto your knees to meet him. “You’re still up?”
And you nod, shrugging one shoulder slightly as you bring your hands up to cup his face. “Of course. Can’t really sleep well when I’m waiting for you to come back from a mission, ya know?” You say it so casually, but it makes him frown knowing you’re referring to the nineteen agonizing days he was gone from you. You lean in to close the distance between you two, pressing your lips to his in a hungry kiss that has him grasping your waist and pulling you flush against him.
“Well, as much as I wish you wouldn’t stay up just for me, I’m glad you did,” he murmurs into your mouth.
“Mmm,” is all you hum in response, pushing your fingertips underneath his blindfold. And then you kiss his nose, then his forehead, and then briefly his lips again.
And those lips fall into probably the prettiest pout you’ve ever seen. “You gonna take it off?” he asks, his voice low, and normally the tone would have you moving quickly to take everything off of him, but not tonight. Tonight, his voice is low with exhaustion, and you'd noticed the way it seemed to seep into his bones the moment he entered the room.
“No,” you say softly, and he nearly whines, “you’re tired. Your eyes—” You gently let your fingertips smooth across his eyelids over the blindfold “—I’m sure they need the rest.”
Gojo had a penchant for coming home with migraines after missions, all that time with his blindfold off to help him fight draining him and making his eyes even more sensitive than normal, and you’re sure tonight is no different.
“But I want to see you.”
The corner of your mouth tilts up. “I may not know exactly how your technique works, Satoru, but I know you can see me.”
And this time he does whine, squeezing your waist and pressing his forehead against yours. “You know it’s not the same. I wanna see you.”
You hum, stringing him along like you’re thinking about it and toying with the edge of the black fabric. “Okay,” you finally say, “just a peek, yeah?” Before he even has a chance to respond you're lifting it off and dropping it to the side. His hair falls around his face, messier than it normally is, and you gently brush it back.
Gojo blinks a couple of times to adjust his eyes to the light, and your chest tightens at the sleepy smile he gives you, at the way his eyes seem dimmer than usual. “Hi,” he whispers.
And you’re suddenly overcome with a wave of emotion that has you blinking back tears. “Hi.” You cup his face again, thumbs stroking over his cheekbones. “I missed you.”
He flashes you a grin. “Aww, no need to miss me too much, you know I can’t stay away from you.”
And you both know it’s his attempt to lighten the mood, to pretend that someday there's going to be a time when you’re not waiting up for him, when you can be at peace despite knowing his responsibilities will always take him away for days at a time, when he's not carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders—when there's not a very real possibility that someday he may not come home to you.
So you decide that today you two will pretend, and you let your tears fall, giving him a wobbly smile. “I know.”
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reblogs & comments always appreciated <3
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cheriiyaya · 3 months
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𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 uh oh, what do the BSD boys do when they're a little too jealous of the attention you're getting?
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 Contents: Fyodor, dazai, and chuuya x Fem!reader (separately), sfw but suggestive (except in fedya's bc he's a "good christian"),they all wanna kill the guy "flirting" w you (fyodor actually kills him lmfao), uh not proofread so excuse any spelling errors, kinda a test run for me writing for fyodor, reader knows Russian in fedya's part, fyodor being kiiinda manipulative, religious themes in fedyas
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 A/N: was this an excuse for me to write them a lil possessive?...yeah it was. anyways this is my first time writing something suggestive so i hope it's good (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
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Dazai Osamu
Dazai is indeed, a rather selfish man. While he's not so selfish as to be extremely possessive of you, he does get jealous. Most of the time it's petty; small pouts and whines that are easily remedied when you pepper kisses onto his face and spoil him with your attention that he loves so much.
this was not one of those times. Right now, he can't believe what he's seeing:
A client of the detective agency, flirting with you.
Dazai watches in cold silence as the man laughs at something you said The man leans over a little too close for dazai's liking and whispered something in your ear, causing you to clamp a hand over your mouth to stifle a laugh.
If he was his teen self, dazai would've stuck bullet after bullet in the man's head.
He clenches his jaw and narrows his eyes in your direction, trying to pull you attention away from that man and towards him with some unknown pull. But you were too engrossed in conversation to notice, fluttering pretty lashes with every blink of your eyes and tilting your head in that endearing way as the man was telling you something..
There was a sensible part in dazai's mind that told him that you weren't reciprocating the man's advances, saying that it wasn't that big of a deal, but he couldn't ignore the curl and twist in is stomach and heart watching you and this man.
Then after a minute or two he just couldn't take it.
He gets up from his desk abruptly, ignoring the few pens and papers that fell off his desk as he strides behind you. He plants his chin on the crown of your head, cocking a lopsided smile that read more like a hidden threat towards the man.
"Bella'! Ah, socializing I see, aren't we?" He runs his bandaged hands down your arms, squeezing the squishy flesh on your upper forearm. His eyes were trained on the client, who was now blinking, looking at you then at dazai for a few time before realizing his error. The man scrambles up, chuckling awkwardly before walking away, and from the look on his blood-drained face you can tell he'll probably ask another one of the detectives in the agency to help with his case.
Once the man leaves you look up at dazai, a crease forming in between your furrowed eyebrows." Osam-" You were cut off by a sharp kiss, dazai hooking a finger under your chin and drawing you closer to him. Letting out a muffled cry of surprise, you try to pull away, which succeeded doing absolutely nothing. With a breathy shudder dazai digs his nails into your shoulders, pulling you flush against his chest and teeth nipping your bottom lip which elicits a soft whine from the back of your throat. He presses his lips onto yours roughly, sucking away the breath in your lungs and only pulling away when he's red in the cheeks and breathless. He pulls away slowly and you draw in a shaky breath through swelling and parted lips, the world around you spinning and your limbs trembling furiously. He runs a thumb over your bottom lip, rubbing it and pressing down onto its soft plush. Dazai draws you close and whispers against your ear, breath brushing against your neck and causing your hair to stand up on end as he speaks;
"My, my bella', seems like you've forgot who's girl you are, hm? Don't worry, I'll make you remember soon enough, juuust wait."
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Nakahara Chuuya
Oh god he was so going to kill mori after this.
The two of you were sent on a mission to collect information from a man, which landed the you two in an expensive bar in the heart of Yokohama.
He's repeating the same few words over and over again in his head like a mantra: "it's only a mission, it's only a mission" as he watches you sit flush besides the target, a young man in his late twenties.
But he felt seething envy curl up like flames in his stomach and sear his thrumming heart.
"No, it's just the alcohol." He mumbles, taking a sip of the expensive wine he had ordered, his thoughts drowning out the noisy chatter of people and music and the bright lights of the bar to an incessant buzz. He wasn't...envious or anything. That's quite stupid you don't even like that man! Yet he just can't help but look at the two of you, the way your pretty lips curled into that sweet smile chuuya loves so much as you placed a hand on the man's arm and giggled bashfully at whatever joke the man had told you.
Probably wasn't even that funny. Chuuya bites down on his tongue, resisting the urge to pull you away from that man as he took a sip of the wine that burned down his throat and settled a warmth in the pit of his stomach.
That warmth that brought drowsiness did not help the flare of envy chuuya felt as the man tugs you onto his lap. The man had one hand just under your ribcage and one in between your shoulder blades, tugging you close to him and whispering against your ear.
Bad idea. A very bad idea indeed.
In a flash chuuya weaved his way through the crowd of patrons-or rather shoved his way through with no regards to anyone-over beside you and glared at the man, eyes piercing holes into the man as he pulled you off his lap.
"Don't ya think you're a little to drunk doll?" He chuckles, but he did a terrible job at hiding the bitterness in his voice. This was so stupid, it would jeopardize the whole mission but chuuya didn't care;
Right now, the only thing on his mind was you and jealousy.
You look up at him, blinking and opening your mouth to protest against your alleged intoxicated state when chuuya pulled your through the crowd of people by the arm and out into the cool night street. Once out, you looked at chuuya with wide eyes and mouth agape from shock.
"Chuuya! What are you doing, you could've ruined the mission!" You scoff, blinking a few times before realizing something from his silence and the stare he's giving you.
"You're jealo-" Your chuckle of disbelief was cut off by his lips meeting yours, chuuya pulling closer to him. He mumbles in between kisses, ranging from short and sweet to hungry and harsh. A gloved thumb dragged from the corner of your mouth to your cheekbone as chuuya pulls away from your lips to leave desperate kisses over your face and jaw. Somehow in the midst your fingers found their place tangled in messy ginger strands and you only realized this fact once he pulls away, leaving you breathless with redden cheeks.
"Ha, can't believe some guy would try to take this sight from me, huh pretty girl? Better keep you by me all times now, can't let some guy think he has a chance with my sweet girl."
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Fyodor Dostoevsky
Fyodor is no jealous man. Envy was one of the seven cardinal sins, and Fyodor was a man of God. Besides, what is there to be jealous of for a man like him?
Until, he feels an unfamiliar feeling stir inside him as he sees you with another man as you waited for Fyodor.
The way your face lights up in that way when you flash a mirthful smile to that man as the two of you chat about some mundane things. The way delicate fingers tuck stray strands of hair from your face and hold them there as you talk to this stranger causes fyodor to feel something that he hadn't felt in a while (or perhaps just blocked out).
You hadn't realized fyodor coming up behind you until you felt him tap you your shoulder.
"Ah, who is this, milaya?" He smiles in that unnerving way, not the soft smile he'd give you after you beg him to take so rest from his work. This smile read more as a threat.
To you or to the man you were speaking to, you couldn't tell.
Fyodor tugs you to his side, quickly telling the man you were waiting for him before he pulls you along with him.
"Who was that? What were you telling him myshka?" He spoke in Russian, the sharp pronunciation vibrating off the walls of your ears.
"mh, just a man, Fedya. Why?" You tilt your head, furrowing your eyebrows. He sighs and smooths his thumb over the crease, offering a smile to ease your troubled expression
"Ah, just worried. Don't talk to strangers, who knows what kind of intentions they may have." Intentions such as distancing you from him. He brings your hand up to his mouth,, gently kissing your knuckles and rubbing soothing circles onto your palm.
No matter, there would be no way anyone would take you away from him. You were his little doll.
The next day, Fyodor offers to stay inside all day saying that he wished to spend time with you.
How naive for you to believe that, instead he kept you in to keep you unaware of the news of the man dead on the banks of a river.
Wrath, another cardinal sin yet there was no sin great enough that Fyodor wouldn't commit to keep you.
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REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!!
©Cheriiyaya 2024
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Text
“Are you gonna be a good girl?” || Young President!Coriolanus Snow x reader
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Summary: Coryo's friends have always been and probably will always be condescending towards you. When you refuse to stay home when he invites them over for dinner, you become aware of the intricate control that Coriolanus has skillfully woven around you, highlighting a sense of submission in your actions.
Warnings: reader smoking, age gap (r is 18 and Coryo is 25), manipulative, controlling, toxic!coryo, power dynamic, condescending behaviour,
Wc: 740
A/n: crap summary but i kinda got inspired by Priscilla and I lowkey imagined cailee as Priscilla in this but u don’t have to. I LOVE THIS MOVIE SM 😭 also pretend Arachne is still alive.
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"I want to visit my family later today, Coryo," you mention, casually flicking the ashes from your cigarette into the nearby ashtray. Coryo looks up from his newspaper, his gaze fixed on you. “What?”
"I want to see my family later today," you repeat, "I haven’t seen them in weeks." The sentiment is laced with a tinge of longing. With a cigarette delicately held between meticulously manicured nails, your painted lips articulate the words, the smoke swirling into the air.
A hush settles in the air until Coryo’s voice breaks the silence, his tone void of emotion. “You can’t. Not today,” he asserts, his attention returning to the newspaper. Your eyes fixate on him. “And why not?” You try not to raise your voice, but a hint of urgency slips through.
"Because, sweetheart, we have guests coming over for dinner." You roll your eyes. "And I want you here, yes?" he adds, pointing to you. “Who’s coming?” Coriolanus sighs deeply, dismissing the question with, “Does it matter?”
“Yes, it does matter. Who’s coming, Coryo?” Your tone grows more agitated. He casually shrugs, “Just a few of my friends, that’s all.” The harsh stubbing out of your cigarette emphasizes your displeasure.
"Your friends?" you question, annoyance evident in your tone. Sensing your irritation, he casually discards his newspaper to the side. “Yes, does that bother you?” he spat in response, his words carrying a tinge of defiance.
You let out an exasperated laugh, “You know how I dislike your friends, Coryo. They’re horrible to me!” You grip the armchair tightly, leaning towards him. You can practically feel the irritation radiating off you.
Coriolanus dismissively rolls his eyes. “Please. They’re not horrible to you. You’re being dramatic—” The room is charged with tension as your hand forcefully slams on the table. “Yes. They are. They belittle me, Coryo!” The weight of your words hangs in the air, your chest heaving from the emotional intensity of the outburst.
It's true. Whenever you're around Coriolanus' friends, it's hard not to notice the condescending vibe they throw your way, the snarky comments about anything and everything about you.
The memory of your wedding day remains vivid in your mind, etched with indelible images of raised eyebrows and skeptical glances from all of Snow's friends as you walked down the aisle. The collective gaze left you with a lingering sense of embarrassment. You were only 17, and he was 24.
You were well aware of the swarm of thoughts buzzing through their minds every time they saw you with Coriolanus. According to them, you were too young, too naive, too quiet, and perhaps even too unintelligent to hold the title of First Lady.
The unsolicited opinions seemed to echo a common sentiment: Coriolanus should have chosen someone closer to his age, someone who shared more similarities with him.
Conversations with his friends were always filled with subtly belittling comments that Coryo either didn't notice or chose to ignore.
Arachne stood out as the harshest among them all. Her comments, in particular, were cutting and had a way of driving you out of the room, often leaving you with tears streaming down your face.
In their eyes, you were just weak. A wife who sat there and looked pretty. But you were more than that, you knew that, hell, even Coriolanus knew that, but he never spoke up.
"They just like to tease you. Don't be so sensitive," he scoffs, the nonchalance in his tone amplifying your frustration. You gnaw at your lips as Coriolanus rises with a sigh, leisurely stretching his neck before heading to the nearby table to pour himself a glass of alcohol.
"I don't want to be here," you whisper loud enough for him to hear you. "I want to see my family, Coryo," your voice trembling with the urgency of your plea. "You can't deny me of seeing my own family," you exclaimed, the words escaping your lips with an urgency that surprised even you.
His response was swift, harsh. He took hold of your chin, his fingers digging into your flesh as he forced you to look at him. "You are to stay here, do you hear me?" he commanded, his voice cutting through the air.
The forcefulness of his grip left you momentarily breathless. Your attempt to pull away was futile as his gaze bore into you, a mix of anger and expectation in his eyes. Tears welled up, blurring your vision as a wave of helplessness washed over you.
As your gaze meets his with glassy, doe-like eyes, Coriolanus can't help but be overcome with a sense of remorse. His hold gently eases, his fingers transitioning from your chin to delicately trace the pad of his thumb along your cheekbone.
"Are you gonna be a good girl and stay, hm?" His voice was softer now. You swallow hard and you find yourself nodding, silently surrendering to the intricate web of control that Coriolanus deftly wove around you.
Coriolanus tenderly brushes away a stray tear that had dared to escape, his touch as soft as a fleeting whisper. Leaning in, he draws closer to your face, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. The warmth of the kiss lingers for a brief moment, a delicate embrace, before he gently withdraws. "Now, go get ready," he says, his back turned to you as he pours himself another glass as you wordlessly leave.
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verstappen-cult · 4 months
Text
HOW YOU GET THE GIRL | CL16
— 01. THE BEGINNING
NEXT PART — [ SERIES MASTERLIST ]
summary: in which charles has an embarrassing crush on alex's childhood best friend and everyone meddles. content warnings: faceclaim is taylor hill but you can picture her as you’d like! some cursing. note: hiii i love being a little delulu, so i had to do this. it is also my first time doing a smau for the f1 fandom, so be kind with me! if you see some mistakes please know that english is not my first language and i noticed them once everything was finished, lol. ♡
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INSTAGRAM POST
📍MIAMI, FL
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Liked by lilycollins, alex_albon and 365,751 others
yourusername unexpected trip. 🧃
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user1 Alex x Y/N content incoming????
user2 they haven't been seen together in a while user3 i don't think they're friends anymore user4 he left a comment lol
alex_albon brownie's the real star in this pic
yourusername forget about pic credits.
user5 she was in greece a couple of days ago, oh to be rich
user6 and pretty user7 and have famous friends user8 and BE famous
williamsracing Thanks for accepting our invitation, we can't wait to have you with us this weekend!
alex_albon YOUR invitation???
user9 we're sleeping in the fact that she's gonna be in the paddock this weekend for the first time
user10 she's living the dream
TWITTER
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Y/N’s IMESSAGE
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INSTAGRAM POST
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Liked by haileybieber, tomholland2013, landonorris and 972,431 others
yourusername i only came here to drink and watch guys in very fast cars.
📸: @alex_albon who i had to physically drag out of his hotel room after free practice was over.
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user11 caption is so real
user12 she's just like us fr
tchalamet call me next time you're in nyc
user13 ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE user14 timmy is doing what all of us want to do
haileybieber pretty girl
user15 idk abt u guys but i see lando in the likes 👀
user16 don't read too much into it user17 they’re probable friends user18 i wanna be her
alex_albon i'm so good at taking pics i should dedicate my life to photography
yourusername please stick to driving
user19 i want their friendship :(
ALEX’S IMESSAGE
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INSTAGRAM STORIES
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Seen by zendaya, charles_leclerc and 287,386 others
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there is no cause in calling or messaging alex, you know he will not answer. not when qualy is just an hour away and he needs to be prepared.
you don’t know where you are. you see the main entrance a couple of meters away, but you can’t remember where to go from there. but you also can’t stand all day in a place you don’t know, surrounded by fans and people too eager to notice how lost you look. the best you can do is walk around and find your way back; if you have any luck you’ll find alex’s garage before he has to go out. to wish him luck and punch him in the face.
you send him one last message, promising to make his life a living hell, and put your phone away.
you’re trying to follow the path you remember in your head, when someone comes barreling into you.
“hey!” the person says a little out of breath. “i was just looking for you.”
you take off your sunglasses to get a better look and it dawns on you that you definitely know this person. or at least you’ve seen him countless of times in your tv, sometimes in alex’s instagram stories too.
“charles!” you really don’t know him, this is definitely the first time you are speaking to him, but you’ve never been so happy to see someone you barely know before. “oh my god, you won’t believe what alex did to me.”
“i know,” he says immediately and you furrow your eyebrows. he shows you his phone, as if that will tell you what you need to know, but when you don’t speak, he smiles hesitantly. you don’t know if the blush on his cheeks is because he was running to get to you or if it’s for a whole different reason. “i saw your story and thought maybe i could help you?”
you process his words for a few seconds, until you realize who really is in front of you. “oh my god, charles!” you exclaim a little louder, drawing attention, and you witness how people begin to notice charles’ presence because of that. he looks at you with confusion on his face, race suit hanging low around his waist. “you’re not supposed to be here, you should be in your car.”
charles’ blush deepens. “yeah,” he says, scratching his neck and avoiding your gaze. “but i couldn’t leave a pretty girl here all alone.”
now it’s your turn to blush, cheeks heating up so much that you’re sure everyone around you can see it.
“let’s go, please. i don’t want to be the reason why you’re gonna be scolded for.”
you walk beside him, trying to give him space as he takes selfies with a few fans that have the courage to approach him. however, charles apologizes with a smile when he sees you a couple of meters away and, as you walk side by side, you can’t help but notice heads turning in your direction and whispers of your name and his.
you fall into an easy conversation that ends up sooner than you’d have liked. but you don’t part ways until his number is on your phone and the promise to text him on your lips.
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TWITTER
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Y/N’s IMESSAGE
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INSTAGRAM POST
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Liked by charles_leclerc, romeestrijd and 676,823 others
yourusername what an incredible weekend! i got to attend my first GP thanks to @/williamsracing (and alex too, he gets mad if i don’t say he had to do with it) and meet new and amazing people. let’s hope this is not the last. 🏎️🤞🏼
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user20 SHE LOOKED SO BEAUTIFUL
user21 mother is mothering
williamsracing Oh no, thank YOU for accepting our invitation and enjoying with us, even if you got lost for a minute. 💙
yourusername it was all alex’s fault alex_albon NO DON'T LISTEN TO HER, THEY ARE FRAMING ME !!!!
user22 everybody calm down… CHARLES IS IN HER LIKES
user23 so it’s true what everyone’s been saying? they were together on saturday??? user24 idk but there are pics of them walking together user25 not my boyfriend trying to steal my girlfriend
romeestrijd you need to take me w you next time. ❤️‍🔥
yourusername we'll have so much fun! user26 does this mean you're going to the next race?
user27 why do people always assume a driver's dating someone when they like a pic??? u’re acting crazy
user28 like friendships between a man and a woman exists, HELLO !?!?
charles_leclerc thanks for stopping by.
user29 CHARLES WHAT user30 Stopping by where? user31 what do you mean?? i mean what do you- what do you mean??
user32 not Y/N replying to all her friends comments and not charles' 🤣🤣
user33 she's too much for him user34 HE'S too much for her x
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note: ups, hello to you again… if you make it here, thank u sm! let me give you a lil kiss on the forehead. btw i’m planning on making this a series, so if you liked it please let me know. and if you want to request something, feel free! comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated. 🫶🏼
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sugarcoatedstarkey · 4 months
Text
Fake Boyfriend - p2
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Pairings - soft!Rafe Cameron x virgin! Fem reader
Summary - You lie to your best friend about having a boyfriend.
Warnings - none
Part one if you missed it
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You're aroused from your sleep by the piercing bright light seeping through the curtains, hitting you directly between the eyes. You let out a groan and press your face into the pillow, it feels as though you're on a boat. Your stomach churns as your brain sways within your skull. “Jesus” you mumble, pushing yourself up from the bed slightly.
Panic sets in when you don’t recognise anything in the room, your hands flying under the cover to check you were still clothed.
“God you move a lot for someone with a hangover” a voice grumbles beside you, you sit up so fast your stomach lurches and the growing headache pounds behind your eyes. “Here”.
Your eyes fall to Rafe, he lay next to you, still dressed in the clothes from last night. He has 2 pills in the palm of his hand and a bottle of water, you accept gratefully and lay back down.
Silence falls over the two of you only to be interrupted with his phone ringing, he ignores it and sits up to look at you. “I’m sorry about yesterday, my friend wouldn’t shut up about me not having a boyfriend. The lie just slipped” you speak, he nods his head but stays silent. Your eyes wander over his face trying to pick up on an emotion but it’s unreadable, his blue eyes stare back at you.
“Never had a boyfriend huh?” He smirks, his left eyebrow raises in question. Redness spreads across your cheeks, spinning your body until it hides under the blanket. “So does that mean..”.
“Oh god, this is so damn embarrassing” you exclaim, you feel sick to the stomach. Thankfully you're both pulled away when his phone rings for the second time, he answers it with a huff and pulls himself from the bed.
You peek your head out of the blanket and watch him close the bathroom door behind him, you take this moment to step out of bed. Wobbling slightly on the plush carpet, thankfully the nausea had subsided and you were just left with a headache.
You grabbed your phone from the bedside table and made a dash for it, no way were you going to wait for him knowing he had follow up questions.
You're so close to the front door when Kelsie rounds the corner, she throws her arms around you in delight. “Finally! I’ve been waiting for you to wake up, didn’t want to wake you up myself in case I walked in on something” she giggled, wiggling her eyebrows at you. You nervously laughed, you probably shouldn’t let her think you were having sex. You know she’d ask for details later and you weren’t sure you could lie about that.
“Hey!” She exclaims, waving behind you. You turn to see Rafe walking towards you with a smirk on his lips, looking away quickly you nudge your friend towards the door. “We should get going” you mumble, gripping her bicep roughly. She shakes her head though just as Rafe’s arm wraps around your shoulder, he brings your back flush against his front.
Your body tingles, well aware that your bum was pressed against where his cock was tucked away. “You can’t leave yet babe, have coffee first”.
Your breath catches in your throat from the nickname, your limbs feel like jelly as you let him push you towards the kitchen. He maneuvers around the kitchen effortlessly and in silence, Kelsie sits on the stool watching him get the coffee machine ready, he turns to look at you and holds out a mug. “Thanks” you manage a smile and step over to help him, he looks down at you for a split second and then over at Kelsie who is tapping on her phone.
“Play along” he whispers, your eyes go wide when his thumb and forefinger trap your chin. Tilting your head up so he can duck down and kiss you.
You can’t stop the swarm of butterflies that are let loose in your stomach, your fingers grip the front of his white shirt. His hand pulls you in by your waist, you're trying to remind yourself this is fake. He’s just helping you out, helping you put on a show for your best friend.
“Gross! You’ve been doing god knows what all morning, let me get to know your boyfriend y/n” Kelsie cringes from her seat, dramatically covering her eyes in disgust. But the curve of her lips shows how damn excited she was for you. “What do you want to know?” Rafe questions, placing a mug down in front of her and then handing you yours.
“Everything! How long have you guys been together first?” Her eyes move between the two of you, your mouth opens but no words follow. Slamming your lips closed quickly before she notices. “Only 3 weeks, I’ve known about y/n since she came to the island 2 years ago. Just never had the courage to speak to her”.
Your brows crease together In the middle, was what he was saying true? If it wasn’t, how did he know you moved here 2 years ago?.
“That’s so sweet! Oh y/n I’m so damn happy for you! Anyway you gave me all the goss last night about the two of you, so Rafe what do you do for work?”
You sit in silence while your best friend interrogates Rafe Cameron, you hang onto every last word of his. Making mental notes about everything he was saying, you didn’t know much about Rafe Cameron.
You just knew he was rich and practically owned half the island, you heard a few things about problems with drugs when he was younger but that he got clean. He didn’t bring any of that up though and of course why would he, this whole situation was just to help you out.
“You got yourself a good one y/n! You better keep good care of her, I leave in a few days and I need to know my bestie is well looked after” she says but wiggles her eyebrows at the last part, nudging you in the ribs. You laugh with her and give him a tight smile.
“Of course, I’ll take real good care of her” he winks at you and you're so grateful for the chair that kept you from falling to the ground, one simple movement from him and you were weak at the knees. “Anyway we should get going, I promised you a trip to Charleston” you said, you made your way to the sink to wash the mug but large hands stop you as you reach for the cloth. “I got it”.
“Oh yes! I’m so excited, okay let’s go! Will see you later, yeah Rafe?” You suppress a groan, squeezing your eyes shut at your insistent friend. You open your mouth to tell her he’s got plans with friends but he’s agreeing with her and saying he’ll see you both later.
“I’ll let you say goodbye in private” she winks, skipping around the corner. When you hear the front door lock you turn to him, he’s staring at you again with his bright blue eyes.
“Thank you so much for playing along and helping me out but honestly I’ll tell her you have plans, she’ll be gone in a few days and we can pretend none of this happened”. You state, he doesn’t move from his spot or acknowledge what you’ve said for a few moments, you stare in silence.
“I’ll play your fake boyfriend y/n” he says, placing his mug into the sink and stepping towards you. “You really don’t need to, I’m apparently really good at lying” you reply, you give him an awkward thank you hug and dart out the door.
Your heart feels like it’s in your throat, rushing towards the Uber waiting for you. You couldn’t believe you had gotten away with it, one little lie worked and now you no longer had your best friend in your ear about finding a man.
The two of you went home to shower and change, spending your day over in Charleston. Showing Kelsie around the town and shopping. Your feet were on fire by the time you stepped through your front door, you dropped your bags to the floor. “I need to lay down!” You announce, walking straight to your bedroom and dropping onto the bed.
You must have passed out because you're waking up in a dark room, your shoes have been taken off and a blanket draped over you. Your ears prick up to the sound of music, what was Kelsie doing?
You threw the blanket off you and stepped into your bathroom, you grabbed a makeup wipe and cleaned up the mascara that had smudged under your eyes. Racking a comb through your hair and stepping back out of the bathroom.
The moment you open your bedroom door you are hit with loud music and the smell of tequila, you follow the noise towards the living room. “There she is!” Your best friend screams, she comes charging at you wrapping her arms around your neck.
Your eyes land on Rafe who sits on the one seater velvet chair, legs spread wide. He sends a smirk your way and raises his glass as a hello. “What is happening?” You question, noticing Rafe’s friends lounge on the couch and your friends looking at you in confusion. Oh god.
Your lie was about to unravel, you hadn’t thought about Kelsie meeting them. “I grabbed your phone while you were sleeping and organized a little get together! But you missy need to stop deleting messages it was very hard to figure out who your friends where”.
You were more concerned about how she got Rafes number, it would have been suspicious for you not to have messages with him. “Luckily everyone was saved in your favorites” she says handing you your phone, when she isn’t looking you search your phone. Rafes name pops up under favorite number 1, he must have put it in there last night? He was a lot better at this fake dating than you had expected.
“Hi” his voice whispered in your ear, his breath tickled your neck sending familiar shivers down your spine. His fingers dance around your hip stopping at your stomach, flattening his hand against you he pulled you back against him. “Hey” you managed, you say, he could tell you were flustered from the pink creeping up your neck until it made home on the apple of your cheeks. “You were asleep when she texted, I’m not as good of a liar as you” he joked, his eyes looking behind you for a moment and then his lips were on yours. You had now been kissed by 3 boys in your our lifetime, his lips were your favorite so far.
“Get a room!” Kelsie shouted, she poured tequila into shot glasses and began passing them around. “Let’s get this party started!”.
An uneasy feeling settled in your stomach, Kelsie never usually drank this much when she was around you. She knew you weren’t much of a drinker, especially since your dad was an alcoholic.
You stared down at the shot in your hand, you really didn’t want to drink tonight. Before you could even bring it to your lips Rafe was swapping his empty shot glass with yours and throwing it back. “You didn’t have to do that” you whispered, his hand still laying upon your stomach. You could feel him breathing against your back. “You didn’t want it”.
He gives you another soft smile and looks back at everyone in the room, Kelsie has turned the music up louder and pulled everyone into the middle of the lounge. “I just need to talk to my friends quickly” he nods his head and drops his hand from you. He watched you make your way to your friends and took a seat back on the seat he once occupied.
“Girl! You didn’t tell us you were seeing Rafe!” Sam exclaimed, she was in pure shock. Your three outer banks friends had lived here all their lives, they had known Rafe since school. “I’m sorry, it’s so recent I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it yet”.
“That’s okay, totally understand! It’s Rafe Cameron for crying out loud, I never thought I’d see the day he settles down” Grace says, she looks over at Rafe who is still watching you. They send him a smile and look back at you, an uneasy feeling in your stomach again.
“Yeah who knew” you laughed, you stood with them for a bit longer until the feeling of his eyes on you made you squirm. Walking back over to him, he pulled you to sit on his lap.
Your legs sat between his open ones, body nuzzled into his side. His arm around your shoulder, it was surprisingly comfortable and not weird. “We should probably discuss this fake boyfriend thing” he whisperedMy, pushing a piece of your hair behind your ear. “You really don’t have to pretend after today”.
He chuckles and moves in his seat a little bit, your thighs rubbing against his groin. The redness once again painted on your cheeks. “You underestimate your friend”.
You look over at Kelsie who’s dancing away with Topper, both of them look like they escaped the mental hospital.
“You might be right” you agreed, unsure why you feel so content against him. You’d sat on boys' laps before and cuddled, it usually made you feel uncomfortable and you’d run off before they got the wrong idea.
“She's here for 3 days, so if you were possibly free over the next few days I’d be forever in your debt” you say, turning slightly to look up at him. He tilts his chin to look down at you, something flashes behind his eyes but you can’t quite place what it is. His smile is intoxicating, the crinkles at the corner of his eyes and the perfectly straight teeth could kill me. “I can be free BUT I need a favour from you”.
“Yeah?” Your heart beats a bit faster and harder in your chest, what could Rafe Cameron possibly want from you? “I’ll need you to come to an event, I need a plus one”.
“Oh sure thing” you answer a bit too quickly, earning a smirk from the man under you. “Let’s talk about rules then?”
“Rules?”
“Yeah, you’ve never had a boyfriend before. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by doing anything you don’t want” he states, his tone is serious and his smile has vanished. “Oh” is all you manage to say to him, he moves again sitting up more straight so you both face each other.
“If I touch you anywhere you don’t like or want, or if I kiss you and you don’t want it, you just tell me. I won’t be hurt”
You nod your head, his hand cups your face and his lips touch yours for only a brief moment. “Sorry… they were watching”.
You turn your head and every snap their head back to what they were doing, a soft chuckle leaves your mouth and you look back at Rafe.
“Okay, and if you're busy or no longer want to be my fake boyfriend you just tell me. No hard feelings”
“Okay”
“Shall we kiss on it?”
You're the one to press your lips to his this time, it’s not quick like the last one. It’s more intense, his tongue snakes between your lips and you're moving in sync. This was a lot better than any of the other kisses you shared with someone.
“Sorry, I thought we’d give them a show”.
“Right” you breath, clearing the back of your throat and laying against him again. Was it normal to enjoy a kiss from a fake boyfriend that much?
Tag list - @rafemotherfuckingcameron @rafegirly @prentissesredtanktop @maybankslover @vigilanteshitposting
Part 3
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