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darkbluekies · 4 months

Note

God i want a dark!dr.kry fic soo bad. I read your most recent silas fic and I thought it was so good i ATE IT UP

Things you shouldn't see

Doctor!yandere x reader Summary: you've finally realized what type of man Dr Kry is, and what he is capable of doing. Warnings: murder, bruises, yandere, poison etc. Word count: 2.3k

Your crying hurts him, it really does, but he can’t be soft. Not now. You had tried to escape again. If he hadn’t come back in time to catch you in the door, God knows what could have happened to you.

“Please, please don’t”, you sob as he cuffs your wrists to the bed’s railing with belt-looking leather. “Please, I’m sorry.”

“Spare your voice, Y/N”, he tells you sharply. “Begging and pleading won’t work — you're not a child. You put yourself in this situation, didn’t you? How about we take some adult consequences?” He fixes the last buckle. “Too tight?”

You don't answer, you only cry. Dr Kry grabs your chin softly to direct your attention back to him.

“Y/N, listen to me”, he says sternly. “Are the restraints too tight? Yes or no? Don’t lie.”

“No”, you sob.

“Good. You know why I’m doing this, right? I don’t think it’s funny.”

“I didn’t mean to-”

“Stop with the bullshit, Y/N. I caught you in the damn door, Y/N.” He sighs frustratedly and runs a hand through his blonde hair. “I can’t let this slip. You almost escaped from me once, remember? I’m not letting that happen again. I’m going to go get you dinner and you are going to get yourself together until I’m back, okay?”

You nod slightly. When he's exited the room, you break out into sobs again. Have to get them out of your system before he returns. You hate him. Hate him so much.

He's back ten minutes later with two cardboard boxes filled with food. He looks somewhat pleased that you're not crying anymore. He stands by his desk.

“You don't understand that I want what's best for you”, Dr Kry says while opening the plastic lids. “If you did, you wouldn't try to do stupid stuff like this.”

“Turn it off”, you say through gritted teeth.

He glances at the air purifier, already knowing what you’re talking about.

“No, I will not”, he says simply.

“You're killing me!”

Dr Kry scoffs and dumps your foodbox on your legs.

“If I wanted you dead, Y/N, you'd already be in the mortuary”, he says and rolls over to you on his stool. “But as you can tell by your current status in your room, I don't.”

He picks up the fork and holds a bite of potato to your lips. You refuse to open your mouth.

“Are we doing this?” he asks with raised eyebrows. “Do I need to be mean?”

“Please don’t”, you whisper, scared.

“You don’t want me to be mean?”

You shake your head quickly.

“Good, me neither”, Dr Kry says. “Glad that we can agree on something. Open your mouth now.”

You open your mouth enough for him to put in the fork in your mouth. Dr Kry notices how you fight back the tears and sighs in defeat.

“If you really want to cry, then do it”, he says quietly.

It’s a trick. He actually doesn’t want you to cry, and you know that. But the tear that runs down your cheek can’t be brought back. You flinch when his hand brushes against your cheek to wipe it softly. He holds another fork of potato and meat to your mouth. You grimace slightly.

“Just eat and you’ll get to sleep”, Dr Kry promises you.

“Turn it off”, you whisper. “Please.”

Dr Kry sighs and walks over to the air purifier, turning it off. The soft buzzing finally, finally stopped. Dr Kry can tell that you relax in your restraints.

“Thank you”, you whisper without looking at him.

“I’ll have to turn it on again”, he says.

“Why?”

“Because it keeps you where I want you. It’s much easier than keeping you cuffed to the bed like this.”

You tug at the restraints, as if you suddenly remember that you’re wearing them. Dr Kry’s hand shoots out over your right wrist.

“Stop”, he says. “Don’t do that. I don’t like to see bruises on you. Just let it be. Give in, alright?”

You glance down at his large hand and grow cold. Could he break your wrist? Could he actually hurt you if he really wanted to? Without tools, without medicine and drugs?

“Open your mouth”, Dr Kry and removes his hand to give you the fork full of food.

This time, you open your mouth without fuss. He smiles, pleased.

“Have I fucked up for myself now?” you mumble without looking at him.

“Just a tad bit”, Dr Kry smiles and wipes some sauce of your lips with his thumb. “But it's nothing that we can't restore.”

She had seen it, and although she tried to convince herself that she was overthinking, she couldn't bring herself to admit that everything was okay with Dr Kry’s patient — or Dr Kry for that matter. There has always been something with him that has rubbed her the wrong way. He's always been polite and helpful, but she thinks that it's a facade. There is something he's hiding, she can tell that there's a certain darkness in his eyes. And the fact that they never see, hear or get any reports about his patient — despite being here for so long — worries her.

One day, she decides to sneak inside. You’re lying in the hospital bed, sleeping soundly. But other than that, the room is empty. The woman notices how your wrists are … cuffed to the side of the bed. She sneaks over to you and carefully shakes your shoulder. You open your eyes slowly, and then dart them open. In pure fear, you start to tug at the restraints.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” the woman shrieks. “I didn’t mean to scare you!”

“Who are you?!” you gasp. “Where’s Dr Kry?!”

“I don’t know, please be quiet, I’m not going to hurt you.”

You eventually start to calm down.

“Why are you cuffed to the bed?” the woman asks carefully, feeling a shiver run down her spine. “What has he done to you?”

“Please help me”, you beg.

“I saw that you tried to leave the room before … and that he snatched you back.”

“I-I will.”

“Please help me, I’m begging you, he’s killing me!” you nod at the air purifier. “He’s poisoned it! You have to help me!”

She is just about to unbuckle the leather strands keeping you to the bed when the door opens. You meet eyes with Dr Kry and feel how your entire body goes numb.

Shit.

His eyes glare at the woman as he slowly closes the door behind him, locking it shut.

“Can I help you?” he asks coldly. “What are you doing with my patient?”

The woman spins around and stutters in fear.

“Who allowed you to come in here?” Dr Kry asks, sounding suspicious — and extremely angry, although he tries to hide it. “Speak up!”

“I-I …”, the woman stutters.

Dr Kry walks closer. You’ve never seen his body language this … territorial before. It’s almost animalistic.

“What have they told you?” he asks the woman.

“Nothing!” the woman shrieks.

With one quick glance at you, he scoffs with a small, cold smile on his face.

“I wouldn’t believe anything they say, ma’am”, he says amusedly, although you’re sure that he’s angry like a bee. “They’re sick, they’re not thinking clearly. Seems like we have to talk after this.”

“Don’t be angry at them”, the woman says, finally collecting herself. “You are the one abusing your position. You should be the one who’s getting yelled at!”

“Oh, I’m not mad at my patient. How could I? If they don’t know what’s good for themselves, how could I ever expect them to know when to speak …” He gave you a warning look, “... and when to shut up?” He looked back at the woman. “They’re sick, after all.”

“Why are you keeping them prisoner?”

Dr Kry puts his hands into his pockets, shrugging. “I’m not keeping anyone prisoner. Did they tell you that?”

“You’ve poisoned the air purifier.”

“Why would I ever do that?” he laughs. “That’s absurd! You don’t think I have other things to do? A real job?” He takes a step closer. He’s almost reaching her by now. “Listen, my patient has been reading a lot of fantasy stories while being emitted here, and they must have spun their head out of control. Being in a hospital for as long as they have, all alone, must mess with ones head a bit. Don’t worry about it.”

He has slammed it over the nurse’s head, striking her to the floor. You fight against the restraints, but they’re as stuck as stone. Dr Kry continues to hit the poor nurse with the metal pipe, causing blood to splatter over the walls — and you. You can’t breathe when the red liquid lands on your face, too horrified to even move. The screams from the woman turns into moans of pain, then sobs, then silence. Dr Kry huffs and gets up from the ground, letting go of the metal pipe that clinks against the floor. His white coat and blue overalls are drenched in blood, and his face is covered in red. You’re shivering in your bed and meet his eyes with wide open eyes.

Dr Kry walks over to his desk. You can tell how he picks up a metal pipe used for the IV-stand you use every now and then.

“No!” you scream, but it’s too late.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I didn’t want you to see that”, he pants lowly.

Sobs start to exit your body. Dr Kry hurries over to you, sinking down on his knees by the bed, almost lying his upper body into yours.

“I’m sorry, little one”, he whispers and cups your cheeks.

“Don’t touch me!” you try to scream while doing your best to turn your head away, but his strong grip is forcing you to stay still, forces you to look at him.

“I didn’t want you to see that”, he repeats. “Why did she have to come and but into our business, hm? Oh, please don’t blame yourself for her death. It’s not your fault.”

He notices how you’re trying to rip your head away from him.

“I know that you’re afraid”, he says. “It was not your fault, okay? I don’t blame you, I could never blame you, you know that.” He wipes your tears. “Please, don’t cry. I’m not going to do it again.”

You’re unsure if you’ve ever sobbed this harshly before in your life. The cries ripple through your body, forcing your chest to lift with every sob. It hurts, like an unwelcomed workout. Dr Kry holds your face against his chest, hushing as he hugs your head close to him. You can feel how fast his heart is beating, and it makes you nauseous.

“Let’s get you cleaned up”, Dr Kry says and unbuckles you.

You hesitate getting out of bed, glancing careful down at the dead body bleeding out on the floor. Dr Kry hurries to pick you up in his arms and walk into the bathroom. He closes the door behind him and places you down in the tub. Carefully, he removes your hospital gown and turns on the shower. You refuse to look his way.

“Listen, Y/N”, he says and sinks down outside the tub. “There are things you shouldn’t see … and this was one of them. I don’t want you to think of me as a monster. I’m a realist, okay?”

“Is that what you’re going to do to me if I try to leave again?” you cry.

“No! Don’t even say such nonsense. That’s absurd. How could you ever think that?”

You find it ironic that he grows offended. He starts to wash off the blood from your face with the gentle stream of the shower.

He takes one of your wrists in hand and lets his thumb run over the deep mark from the leather.

“I told you not to fight against it”, he whispers with a sigh. “We’ll have to put bandage on that.”

Dr Kry continues to wash the blood off of you and his own hands. You follow the red water down the drain.

He puts the shower head back on the hanger and tells you to wait there until he comes back. You hug your knees close to your chest and watch how he disappears out of the bathroom. You can hear how he starts to clean up the body outside the closed door. This is what happens to the people who believe you. Those that trust Dr Kry’s words about you being too sick to function, and start to hallucinate, are no help … but those that are never get far enough.

You shiver from cold air hitting your wet, naked body and bring your knees even closer to you. There’s a new form of silence in the room, a silence that eats you up from the inside … and yet, silence had never been this loud before. You would be able to hear a needle drop to the floor on the other side of the hospital.

It had taken wells to gather the courage to try to run away again, and it had been shattered in the moment of two seconds. Your hope had been sparked again when you saw the nurse, and knew that she was one of the few that actually believed you.

You turn your face down into your knees and cry in realization that you’ll never get to leave the hospital as long as Dr Kry is around. In time, the poisoned air purifier will have killed you … but you’re unsure that you’ll get to leave the hospital even then.

I’m going to die.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere fics #yandere oc x reader #yandere stories #yandere female #female yandere

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buckets-and-trees · 4 months

Text

What You Want

Fandom: MCU Characters/Pairings: lawyer!Bucky x curvy!female assistant reader Word Count: 2.7k Summary: Your boss, powerful lawyer Bucky Barnes, insisted he needed his indispensable assistant to accompany him on his trip to Norway. He also promised he would have you home in time for Christmas, but the weather decided to strike its wrath and decimate international travel, leaving you stranded for a few more days.

Content Warnings: modern AU, slight power dynamic, periphery/secular reference to the Christmas holiday, vaginal fingering, use of "plum" as a term of endearment

Logistical Notes: Written for @sstan-hoe Vee's Holly Jolly Challenge - I was given a selection of prompts including "That noise...keep making it," reindeer, and lawyer/assistant power dynamics. Also my December entry for @buckybarnesevents Build-a-Bucky-Bingo using the FLASHBACKS prompt. Divider by @saradika.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You heard the door open and close behind you and then familiar footsteps approaching, but you didn’t turn to look, instead keeping your eyes on the beauty of the frozen wilderness on display before you.

“Peace offering?” Bucky spoke as he stepped up beside you at the rail of the balcony, holding one of two steaming mugs in his hands toward you.

You sighed but gave him a small smile and took the mug. “You don’t need to apologize. You’re a very powerful man, Bucky, but I’m relatively sure you don’t control the weather.”

“Not yet, but I’m trying to pull some strings,” he said with a smirk, and you smiled.

“It’s not your fault we can’t get a flight back to the States when a blizzard has taken out half the Eastern Seaboard.”

It was unlikely that even with all of James Buchanan Barnes’ considerable lawyering power and money that he would be able to get you back home before Christmas. The main international airports in New England would have to live through the record raging blizzard, dig out, and then there would be hundreds of thousands of passengers to accommodate in and out of the country. Reasonably your guess was that you wouldn’t be returning until as early as the day after Christmas at the earliest.

“I should still apologize though. I said I would have you home for Christmas.”

You took a sip of the hot coffee. “You should apologize, but you’re not.”

He smiled. “No, I’m not.”

He turned and looked out over the forest and frozen tundra with you, the snow sparkling by the moonlight. This side of the resort hotel Bucky had booked the two of you into looked out over the wilderness.

“How long are you going to stay out here?”

“Until I see a reindeer. You brought me to Norway in December. I want to see a wild reindeer.”

“Fair enough.”

After a few more minutes, Bucky spoke again. “Are you sure you don’t want to eat, though? They said our accommodations should be ready after dinner.”

It had been a bit of a feat to find any place this close to Christmas that wasn’t closed or completely booked, but Bucky had managed to find this place that although they said they didn’t have a place immediately available, they had late check outs that just needed to be cleaned and refreshed for new guests.

“It’s a very fine restaurant.”

“Alright, let’s go eat.”

“If that will be all for the evening, I’ll be happy to escort you to your suite, Mr. Barnes,” the maître d’ said. He had been attentive all evening, but being with Bucky on this business trip you had quickly learned only the most excellent service was a common thing for him.

“Yes, thank you, I think we’re finished,” Bucky replied, looking to you, and you nodded. You both scooted your chairs back from the table and then followed the man out of the restaurant, through the hotel lobby, past the bar, past the observatory lounge and balcony you’d visited earlier, and to a pair of elevators.

Dinner had been quiet, but not an uneasy quiet by any means for the two of you. Bucky was an intimidating man, power emanating from him very naturally, but after the first few weeks as his assistant, you had gotten over your nerves. After sitting with him through many lunches, plenty of meetings, taking notes from him on cases and projects, and a fair few late nights, you had grown comfortable around him, learned that he could be easy to talk to, but didn’t strive to fill a silence for conversation’s sake, something you appreciated.

The hotel Bucky had found was an upscale, moderately sized wilderness and ski lodge. When you arrived on the fifth and top floor, there was a cozy hallway that only boasted three doors, and you were led to the one at the very end, where the man unlocked the door, stepped in to hold it open, and then handed the key to Bucky.

“If you should need anything at all, simply pick up the phone and our staff will assist you,” he said. “Have a good evening, and we hope you enjoy your stay, even though we know it was unexpected for the holiday.”

“Thank you, dinner was fantastic, and the place looks wonderful, you’ve been great, Lucas. Have a good night,” Bucky said, and pressed what you were sure was a generous tip into the man’s hand.

All your and Bucky’s things had been left neatly to one side of the entry of the suite. A quick look around revealed that there were two rooms off either side of the spacious sitting area as well as a small kitchen and bar, and on the far side full floor to ceiling windows and a balcony. You had hoped for two rooms like you’d had at the previous hotel, but two rooms in a suite would be perfectly fine, especially since the stunning view out of the sitting room’s windows wasn’t the only beauty in the place. There was a fireplace with a gorgeous mantle with a roaring fire already ablaze and a stunning Christmas tree with gorgeous trimmings in the Scandinavian style.

“It’ll do, yes?” Bucky asked, watching you take in the beauty of the tree.

You smiled warmly at him, then looked back at the tree. “Yes, it’ll do just fine.” The sitting room was spacious and rivaled your cozy studio apartment back home for size. You stepped further into the suite. “Do you want to take a look at the rooms and pick which one you want?” you asked. All the trip was on the company’s expense account, and as his assistant, although you suspected he might be a gentleman and offer you the better room, you would defer to Bucky to actually pick.

“We’ll share whichever one is better,” he said with a shrug.

You scoffed. “No, there are two rooms in this gorgeous suite, I’m sure they’re both fantastic, I don’t mind taking the one you don’t want. Might even sleep on the couch so I can stay by the tree and look out those windows all night.”

He chuckled, low, and suddenly at your back. “You misunderstand me, plum,” he said, placing his hands on the curve of your hips and pressing his chest up against your back. He leaned in to speak the next words directly in your ear. “I’m having you in my bed tonight.”

Your breath caught.

You couldn’t move, and a soft, “Mr. Barnes,” was all you could say.

“Aw, none of that, plum, you haven’t called me Mr. Barnes for months, and I won’t it happening again now.”

“We shouldn’t,” you tried to protest, but even as you said the words, a traitorous part of you didn’t put much feeling behind them.

“Shouldn’t we? You’re smart enough to know I didn’t really need to bring you on this trip with me, but I wanted to. Didn’t want to go that long without seeing you, wanted you by my side in a charming Nordic country during the height of its festive season, and you said yes, like the perfect assistant that you are. I told myself that was enough, didn’t go knocking on your door any of the nights we were at our first hotel, kept it professional despite wanting more and more of you every day we spent together away from the office.”

His hand moved from your hips to circle around your front, his left moving over your soft stomach over to the other side to rest over the front of your right hip, and his right further up your torso, his hand brushing the underside of your breast and resting firmly just below it, bringing you flush against him.

“Fate won’t let me get you home for Christmas, so why deny what it’s dangling right in front of me now?”

He pressed his lips to the sensitive spot just below your ear, and a small whimper escaped your throat.

“Let me have what I want,” he murmured, leaving a slow trail of more kisses down your neck. “I know you want it, too.”

“I – no, I don’t – I”

It was impossible to put up the words of protest when he licked the shell of your ear. You shivered in his arms instead.

“Let me ruin my perfect girl,” he pressed, slipping the hand that was at your hip into the waistband of your trousers. His hand stopped when his fingers met the lace edge of your panties. He turned you around abruptly and kissed you full on the mouth, cupping your face with both hands so you had no choice but to take the heat of his kiss, and the flame he’d been sparking started to catch more dangerously in your core.

He had somehow maneuvered you further into the sitting room so that when he suddenly broke off the kiss, you were in the middle of the space, the warm glow of the fire and the tree lights casting over you both.

Bucky stepped back, and you frowned in confusion, still breathless. He trailed a finger up the column of your throat to the tip of your chin, his blue eyes dark and hungry. “Undress,” he said.

He moved to the couch and sat, his eyes returning to you as he settled in.

“Undress,” he repeated.

That commanding tone struck another spark right to your cunt. You knew you were already growing wet for him.

You toed off your shoes one at a time, then took off your socks – those requiring you to move a little less elegantly than you wanted with his searing gaze on you. Standing aright again, your hands moved to the button of your trousers, fingers trembling since you had never stripped in front of anyone before. You weren’t a virgin, but although the partners you had been with before had been eager to have you naked, none had ever asked you to undress for them like this, like they wanted to see your full figure, not just fuck it.

Bucky spoke your name in a way that had you pause and look up at him again.

He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “You know I pride myself on my instincts. I think we both want this, but there are two rooms here.”

You bit your lip.

He was offering the veiled choice if you wanted it.

Your mind raced with flashbacks of conversations and thoughts you’d had over the past few weeks clear back to the first few meetings with your boss.

Insisting to your mother that your boss did absolutely need you to fly with him to Norway to assist him with meetings with an international client the week before Christmas.

Your best friend insisting on a shopping trip for your fancy work trip to a foreign country “because if your hot boss isn’t going to seduce you, have a foreign fling!”

Your heart stuttering the first time your eyes met your boss’s deep blues the day you interviewed with him.

The same eyes that were riveted on you now.

On you.

You unbuttoned your trousers and lowered the zipper. You glanced down as the fell to the floor, then stepped carefully out of them. When you looked back up, you saw even more hunger in Bucky’s eyes, and it warmed your blood. Looking right into those eyes, you reached for the hem of your sweater and lifted it up and over your head, letting it drop to the floor as well.

“Mmm,” he hummed in approval. “C’m’ere,” he beckoned, sitting back on the couch again, but beckoning you into his lap as he watched your every move.

You concentrated on his eyes and on keeping your breathing steady. When you were close enough for him to reach for you, he held out his hand. You took it and let him pull you gently down to straddle your legs on either side of his.

“My perfect plum,” he murmured. His hands moved up your thighs, over your hips, up your waist, and back down.

“Your plum?” you asked, watching his face as his eyes roved over you up close.

“My perfect plum - I want to savor every delicious curve of your body,” he said before dropping a kiss to the top of your breast. Your hands went to his shoulders to steady yourself. “When I felt that lace of your underwear, I thought maybe you did want this, too.” His lips moved to the other breast where he kissed the exposed skin, then traced his tongue along the edge of the lacy cup, causing you to shiver. “There isn’t any other reason you would be wearing such pretty lingerie, is there?”

“No,” you admitted immediately.

“Just for me,” he said as he moved his hand to your mound and immediately slipped a finger beneath the fabric to stroke along your folds, making you gasp. “Good girl, already wet for me.”

You keened as his finger traced your warm hole but didn’t go in, instead taking the slick there and pressing it up over your folds. He continued tracing them up and down before moving up to find your clit, knowing he found it the second your head dropped back, and you let a, “Yes,” tumble from your lips. “More.”

His other hand skimmed up from your hip, up your side, to your neck, and then angled your head back down for another kiss. Your lips met his eagerly, mouths parting, you licked into his mouth, and he growled his approval. He moved his finger from your clit, but your whine was brief as he slipped that finger along with a second straight into your cunt, stroking in and out, over and over again. You canted your hips into his hand, and you felt the rumble of a chuckle in his chest, but he didn’t stop kissing you. Instead, he curled his fingers forward with each stroke, quickly finding the spongy spot that made you tremble and moan.

Breathless, it was you who had to break off the kiss first, but you pressed your forehead to his. “Feel good, plum?” he asked, and you registered that he sounded as earnest as you felt, his voice deep and a little breathless, too.

“Yes, sir,” you gasped.

“Mmm, sir? I like that,” he said, and rewarded you by moving his thumb to start circling your clit.

You moaned openly.

“That noise…keep making it.”

He sped up his motions just slightly, seeming to feel how your body was tensing up, building toward a powerful release.

“Ready to cum for me like a good girl?”

“Yes, sir!” your answer was more like a plea. “So close.”

Keeping up the rhythm on your clit, he applied more pressure with each thrust of his fingers up inside of you, hitting that sensitive spot on the front of your walls, and with just a few more strokes, the wave crested and rolled over you.

“That’s it, plum,” he cooed as you trembled above him, his other hand coming to smooth unhurriedly up and down your back as his fingers continued to stroke your channel, slowly extending your orgasm. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

He removed his fingers and brought them up to your mouth. You sucked them in, laving your tongue over them. “Can’t wait to see you come for me again,” he said. And too impatient for you to lick his fingers clean, he withdrew them and crashed his lips back into yours.

“Earlier tonight when I said I should apologize, and you called me right out for not doing any such thing?”

“Yes?”

“This is why I didn’t apologize. I was in no way sorry that I had more time with you, and I’m going to use it to take you apart and put you back together all night.”

You would think about all of this later. But he emptied your head of anything but him and the pleasure between you, making more than good on his promise to take you apart until you were completely spent and ruined in his bed.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x curvy reader #babb2023 #vee's holly jolly challenge #aspen wrote somethinig

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jamespotterismydaddy · 1 month

Text

Training Session

luke castellan x reader

A/N: had a cutie little request for this so i hope it delivers everything you wanted

WARNINGS: SMUT!, semi-public sex, knife kink, jealous luke, getting caught (oopsie)

WORD COUNT: 1,073 words

“You know, anyone in this camp would be bloody grateful to train with me.” Luke says as he shoves you to the ground with his shield after you cursed him out for about the fifth time during the sparring session.

“You’re an arrogant dickhead.” You snap at him as you pull yourself back to your feet.

“It isn’t arrogance if it’s backed up.” He states as he swings at you, barely giving you a chance to block the attack at your throat.

“Gods, Luke. You nearly took my head off!”

“I didn’t though, did I?” He continues on the offence before you see your chance and swipe at his feet. It was a good move but you don’t make any contact. “Finally.” He murmurs. “This was starting to get pathetic.”

“Pathetic?” You scoff, your anger rising. “If I had a dagger in my hands, you’d be dead in seconds.”

“At least I can handle a dagger. You look like a clumsy toddler wielding that sword.” He laughs, attacking you again and knocking the steel from your hands.

Was he just toying with you?

“I don’t know why I even put up with your shit.” You start to reach down for your sword, planning to collect your things and leave before you’re stopped by the feeling of the sharpest part of his blade against your throat.

“Training with me makes you better.” He says assuredly as he lifts your head with the tip of his sword until you’re standing straight. You don’t think he would cut you… but he might.

“I could also train with another man to make myself better.” You say snarkily.

His eyes darken and he grabs your arm to pull you closer to him, his sword is still held to your neck like he might slit it. “You won’t. No other guy can do what I can.”

“I could always try one out.” You say, sensing the possession in his voice.

“I won’t let you.” He growls.

“What are you going to do to stop me?”

Silence for 1… 2… 3 seconds and then his lips are smashed against yours. He carelessly tosses his sword to the side. It doesn’t matter nearly as much as what he is going to do to you right now.

“Luke,” You murmur as you pull away. “Someone is gonna see.”

He smirks. “You must really wanna kiss me if all you’re worried about is privacy. Besides, everyone is at dinner by now.” His lips chase yours as he tries to pull you in for another kiss.

“And we should be at dinner too.” You protest.

“No, we should be laying you down on the bench and getting out all this pent up tension.”

You have to admit that his strength from before was turning you on. What girl doesn’t like to be pinned down with a sword pressed to her throat… and another one pressed to her thigh.

“Someone will catch us.”

“Not if you’re extra quiet.” He keeps pecking tantalizing kisses to your lips that distract you as he lies you down on the bench.

“I swear to the gods, if someone sees us, i’ll kill you.” You murmur as he pulls off your pants.

“As is your right.” He smirks as he pulls down your panties, eyes zeroed in on your sticky sweet cunt. “Can I?” He asks, looking into your eyes eagerly and you nod.

Your cheeks flush at the way he eats you out. You can feel the absolute yearning in his tongue as your fingers thread through his curly locks.

“Good girl, baby.” He murmurs against your pussy as you try to keep the whining mewls from falling from your lips.

You know you have to be quiet but you’ve never felt such pleasure in your life. You end up biting down on your tongue when you hit your peak so you barely let out a sound.

“Fuck, you taste so perfect.”

He moves back up to kiss you, looking ever so pleased with himself as he palms at your tits. You feel him pressing against your thigh once again.

“Let me fuck you now?” It’s phrased as a question but you hear the dominance in his voice.

“Hmm… I guess so.” You say playfully, as if you don’t need him so achingly.

“You think so? I’ll have you begging by the end of this.” Luke says and you feel his cock sliding through your wetness, collecting it as lubricant.

It doesn’t even sting when he pushes into you, not with how desperately you want for him. He looks into your eyes again, gaging how you’re doing before he begins to thrust. You feel as if you’re being sent to heaven and back with each movement.

“You think another guy could fuck you this good?” He says as he starts to pound into you.

“No, Luke.” You whine with each slam of his hips.

“No man will ever train or take care of you as well as I can. I’ll kill the bastard who thinks he can match me.” He fucks into you so hard that you start seeing stars. “Say it. Say no man compares to me.” He commands.

“No guy compares, Luke… there’s only you.”

You squirm a little as he lifts one of your legs to hook over his shoulder. You aren’t sure if you can handle how much deeper he gets in the new position. His hand slips up your shirt now so he can feel your skin on his and the look on his face is angelic. Mortals compare beautiful men to Greek Gods all the time but Luke doesn’t look like just any half-blood; he truly does look like a god. You swear that if you saw Eros in person, he would be imaged after Luke himself.

“Mmm i’m gonna cum.” You breathe out.

“I know, baby. You can cum.” He coos, giving you the last thrusts you need before you’re squeezing around him. The pressure alone is enough to cause him to spill himself inside of you. “You did so well, princess, so well.”

He presses one more soft kiss to your lips before helping you to get dressed, whispering kind words into your ear as he does. All would have been fine and well… If Luke had a chance to pull his jeans back up before Percy walked around the corner.

“Hey guys, everyone is wondering whe- oh what the fuck.”

taglists (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi @ravenclawprincess33

Luke Castellan: @amortencjja @urmomsbananabread @kissingyourgrl @vikimontethegirlblogger @maryann2013 @stark-head @remussbitch @ever8ea @batmandabest @jennapancake @junos-web @tanifsblog @stupidtween @10ava01

#luke castellan smut #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #pjo #pjo x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians

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daddyricsdoll · 3 months

Text

False God ✭ Max Verstappen

Summary: Being lost spiritually isn't something you can brag about, but finding a new belief in someone is. From that alluring man in the F1 paddock to finding out he's the Max Verstappen didn't effect you as much as discovering his lips are your new religion even if it's a false god.

Warnings: The use of y/n!! (I used it 2-3 times), unprotected sex (what else could you expect from me?), teasing, reader is a virgin, mirror sex, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, creampie, praise, and use of names (good girl), also overstimulation and dacyphilia. I don't know if taking a photo of a naked person counts as a warning or spoiler, I guess it's both.

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Based off of this request. I would also like to thank @mrsevansxstanxobrien for saving me by giving me a perfect storyline for this. 🧡 And also all everyone who waited for this. I feel like adding more at the end, maybe a part two.

Never would I have ever thought I’d wear this dress. But I’ve been lost, and these girls are helping me become found. I’m not used to the material leaving my shoulders exposed and ending before my knees. Some of my family wouldn’t approve, but I feel… pretty. I would’ve worried that my place in heaven might slowly crumble but now, I don’t know.

I feel so happy and people are looking at me. In my little white dress, the one that hugs my torso and sways around my thighs, loose straps hung above my shoulders.

This feels like heaven. Being in a place I’ve never heard of with my friends as they pull me to different small buildings. “Come on!! We have to find any driver we can. If you see one, tell me!” Lissie smiles, eyes shooting everywhere just like my other two friends.

“I don’t know what any of the drivers look like.” I say my words with worry but chuckles lacing them.

“If you see a good looking guy with people around him, then tell me.” I laugh hearing others agree.

“Oh specifically if they wear red or orange- Ferrari and McLaren drivers, oh even Mercedes which is black.”

“Ok… I’ll try.” Feeling uncertain about this whole thing but I nod. Walking through the paddock and turning my head at every man that would emit a good thought into my head. They looked at me too and I prayed to god hoping it weren't for the wrong reasons.

My friends quickly spotted a driver and we all got photos and signatures, his name was Charles last I recall and now I understand one of the reasons he has so many fans. He signed my paddock pass in record time and then sent us a remarkable smile.

We had to leave him and those dimples to jog the other way for drivers who had just finished FP2, meeting so many as my friends explained to me the whole purpose of this.

Some drivers walked in pairs making it all the more easier for us to capture a second with them.

I was getting one of my friends' hats signed by a driver called George when my eyes left his hand, looking into the crowd all around us. Somehow locking eyes with a stranger, he then looked me up and down a small smirk on his face.

And I could only do the same, my eyes travelled down his body, his jeans that hugged his thick thighs and red bull polo tight around his shoulders then hanging around the rest of his torso. I became flushed and looked away for a second to gain composure but when I looked back he wasn’t there. It was like he was a dream.

“Y/n, you good?” Lissie asked, checking in on me as I hadn’t realised they started walking again. “Oh, um yeah I got distracted. So who else do we have to find?”

“Great question, so I heard that Max is around here somewhere, he might be gone but still keep an eye out for him. And Alex, I love him with my whole heart but our telepathy isn’t telling me where he is.” We both laugh and it feels so good, the afternoon soon reaching the evening. She checks her watch and then looks back at me. “Oh, we have 3 hours until dinner so we can go back to the hotel, do things there, eat, party and then we’ll be back here tomorrow. Sounds good?” I couldn’t say no to that plan so we ended up going back to the hotel.

20 minutes of swimming in the empty hotel pool turned into nearly 2 hours and now we were running a little behind schedule. We rushed to get ready, but oh didn’t we still look good. “We’re gonna meet the other girls there.” Lissie tells me as we get seated in the back of a taxi, adjusting her makeup. I nod, turning my head to look out of the window, I hold the cross around my neck fiddling with it whenever I get too deep into my thoughts.

I cast eyes on many people today but that one guy, from the way he looked at me with a light smirk to the smallest tingling feeling he sent through my body. It was as if he tried to make out my whole personality in one glance, if only I could’ve done the same.

The scenario plays in my head multiple times, each time I react in a different way– my default ways of a smile or being a whole different person by sending him a smirk, or calling him over.

I know I shouldn’t worry about that, if worried is a word close to what I’m experiencing. But my thoughts make the ride shorter and we both hop out of the car, wearing outfits suitable for a restaurant and a dirty club right after. We stood just outside the restaurant waiting for Leah and Milan.

Taxi’s drove past and dropped people off, each one we looked into searching for those two girls. Then suddenly a car made an abrupt stop in front of us. The windows were tinted and it limited our vision inside of the car. Just until the door opened and a partially familiar figure started getting out of the car.

His face came into view and so many emotions ran through me in that second that Lissies scream was the only thing that brought me back. “It’s Max Verstappen! Oh my god! Can I get a photo or a signature or anything?!” She rushes toward him, searching her bag and finding a pen. I was still in shock, he is Max Verstappen?

Next thing I know he’s standing in front of me. “Would you like a photo or signature?” He asks me so kindly, making me wonder if he was the guy whose eyes roamed my body then smirked at me like he knew exactly how I’d react.

“I-um sure. Well I don’t really have anything to sign.” And then a piece of paper is passed to me from Lissie. “Oh, thanks.” I grab it and hold it out to Max, watching as he stares at my face long enough to memorise every inch. He looks away to sign my paper, taking longer than I would’ve thought, but when he gives me that smirk from earlier everything leaves my mind. He then starts walking away, getting interrupted by other fans.

Each step he took further away I wanted to say something even more, call him back, talk to him. But why and what for?

My eyes look down at the paper, his signature, but I see some of the pen ink on the other side, flipping the paper over my breath hitches at what’s written. “Be a good girl” I read, my eyes then following an arrow that points to his number. I lightly squeezed my legs together and tried to force the pink off my cheeks. I couldn’t help but stare at it in disbelief before quickly folding it and shoving it into my bag. “You good?” Lissie asks me.

“Yeah, just surprised.”

“I know, that was really unexpected but luckily we all got something from Max. I got a photo with him as well he looked so fucking good in that suit.”

She was right, he did look so good and that feeling he made me feel, oh it was stronger than before but a small fire between my legs also grew. I just hoped it wasn’t lust, especially for a man I just learnt the name of. ✭

The next morning we were back in the paddock, me being the only one not partially hungover by the drug of alcohol. We started walking past the red bull hospitality, my eyes flickering over to the door praying to see that one man. But my prayer wasn’t answered as FP3 started and I only saw him on a big screen.

Once FP3 finished we stayed in McLaren hospitality for a little while longer waiting to catch a glimpse of the two stars with the fastest lap times. And to our luck both of the Mclaren drivers walked in, but they weren’t the only ones, Max Verstappen walked beside Lando in his dark blue drivers suit. I ran up to them with my friends, letting them congratulate the drivers as I stood back. Not noticing one of the drivers leave until a feather touch of a hand was on my back. “You didn’t call or text me. And I thought you were gonna be my good girl.”

I took a deep breath, somehow knowing exactly whose voice it was.

“It’s gonna take more than that. But tell me… what do you really want?” My voice firmer and somehow trying to gain confidence like his, soon feeling even more flustered when I hear his chuckle beside me. “What do I want? Oh honey, I want you.” My lips part, trying to control my breathing through my mouth. His finger comes beneath my chin and my head is lifted to the side to face him. His fingers trickle down my chin and throat, reaching the cross that sits barely above my cleavage.

“What’s this?”

“It’s um…” I became lost for words, knowing exactly what I would’ve said but I can’t say it to him. He deserves so much more.

“I’m not into this stuff, gods and everything. They don’t really do much for you, but you give them everything.” I shake my head lightly, trying to show my disagreement but not make him want to leave me.

“Oh? My good girl doesn’t believe me?” The fake surprise on his face teases me. “Would your god let me touch you? Would he let me make you cry from my dick?” Max brings his face closer to mine, just enough for his breath to touch my ear. His large hands run down my arms and he grabs a hold of my phone.

“Unlock it.” He commands me, crystal blue eyes hypnotising me. And without a question, I unlocked it.

“Now you have no excuse to not call me.” He shows me his number in which he just typed into my contacts, calling it to watch his phone start ringing. “Now I have yours.” He saves my number, looking back up at me. “Now won’t you tell me your name?”

“Why? You’ll only call me your good girl.” My lips move faster than my mind. Not recognising my own words.

“My good girl, trying to be someone you’re not. Now, tell. Me. Your. Name.”

“Y/n.” I say watching a pleased smile on his perfect lips. And then just like last night he leaves me there, standing thinking about something bigger than the whole world—him. ✭

Up came the race day, the one in which the whole place was filled, park passes, hospitality and grandstands. We came in earlier than usual after the girls all somehow noticed the end of me and Max's last interaction. Going crazy and asking if there’s something between us, what his hands feel like, if I’m his new wag and will I see him after this all.

I thought about that last question longer. I don’t know if god brought us together or maybe he’s something here for something else, but I don’t usually enjoy having no clue what’s going on, so I plan on finding out.

We find a seat in hospitality and when I finally gain the courage to send Max a text I see that he’s beat me to it.

‘You’re not my good girl anymore’

‘Why don’t you come to redbull and I’ll show you what you really are’

I become flushed at his words, squeezing my legs together. Checking the time he sent the message I curse at myself for not seeing it earlier. We have nearly half an hour left until the race and all the drivers are with their teams. I couldn’t possibly go now, so I blame myself for not being able to touch his skin or hear his voice before the race.

So instead I send him a text, replying to the ones he had sent.

‘How about you win the race and I’ll be your good girl’

It barely takes a minute for the message to turn from delivered to read. He starts typing then stops, typing again then stopping. He teases me with that for what feels like hours, until I finally receive something.

‘Be ready, once I’m done you won’t be able to say your name.’

I was speechless, leaving his message on read, letting him know he already stole all the words from me. I turn my phone off, watching the last few pre race interviews before I see Max walk past behind a crowd of people. A tiny smirk on his face, I smile knowing it was for me.

My emotions throughout the whole race were a rollercoaster. Watching a crash between 3 drivers had me praying they were all ok and that it would never come across Max. There were battles all over the circuit, Max managing to never be a part of any as he led the race. I was surprised at how fast the race went by, from complaining about the length of them to now letting the time run right past.

My friends pulled me away once the race ended, telling me we had to watch the podium. And I was glad I let them take me. I watched max from below, majestic being the word to explain him. He wore his suit and sweat trickled on him, hair swept to the side like always. His eyes so soft I couldn’t imagine he was the same man that threatened to make me cry from his dick. I’m not complaining but he looked so content, so happy with himself and he never had needed God's validation.

Everything in my head seems to become blurry, Max’s smile the only thing still keeping me here. I manage to find his eyes, remembering the blue of it from the first time. His lips change and I’m certain I see his signature smirk, just for me.

When both of the national anthems finish they start spraying champagne, becoming my queue to escape to the red bull hospitality. I didn’t have any clue where to go so I waited for him outside the building.

His teammate Checo walked past me, giving me a smile like I was any fan and then a crowd of people were making their way here. All following the man himself, Max Verstappen. He sees me standing there, that one smirk arises on his face before he whispers something to the woman beside him, probably his assistant or something, because once they reach me she smiles and then takes me to his driver's room as Max finishes with all the fans.

I take in the surroundings, the room being small but big enough to fit the things he needs. A decent sized bathroom and a mirror being the door of his cupboard filled with redbull polos, which seem to be the only thing he wears.

“You going through my stuff, doll?” I turn at the noise, seeing Max walk into the room and start unzipping his racing suit.

“No, you left me in a room alone, what else am I to do?”

He chuckles and walks closer to me, his suit now hanging around his waist. He comes closer, nearly caging me into the wall with his body. A few strands of his hair fell and now hang between the two of us. I have nowhere to go, not like I’d ever want to leave, but it’s not like he’d let me.

“I won.” He breathes out.

“And now I’m your good girl.” Max shakes his head, chuckling as his arm rests on the wall above my head.

“You’re not a good girl… but I’m gonna make you one.” He moves his head closer to mine, nearly touching my skin with his lips but he doesn’t make contact. Teasing me by going along my face and down my neck. So close I can feel his breath, but he never touches me. Trailing across my collar bone as I try to ease my breathing.

I lightly arch my back, bringing my chest closer to him, trying to force the contact. But then he stops. He grabs my pendant, the one of a cross.

“You’ve been worshipping the same man for years, would it bring you to hell to worship another? Let’s say… me.”

I don’t have time for a reaction as he smashes his lips into mine, taking my breath away. His hands cup either side of my face, holding me in place as he kisses my lips in a way no other person has before. My body writhes against the wall, having no clue what to do but touch him. Try and touch him in a way no person ever has and ever will.

That my religion is his lips.

I lean into his touch when his hand reaches up my shirt, not touching my breasts yet, but caressing the skin of my back and waist. Max groans into my mouth, lighting a fuse between my legs that I tried to keep out.

My nails dig into his shoulders, fireproof still tight along his body. I can’t control my body, wanting to feel every inch of him against and inside me.

“If you wanna be a good girl, then you can wait.” I whine at his words when his lips leave me. My chest still arched and body screamed with need. “I don’t want you to move.” He tells me, eyes a darker shade and voice commanding. I nod my head quickly, hoping the faster I am, he will be. “So needy.” Max chuckles almost as if he’s teasing me of wanting him so much.

He starts closing the gap between us, standing directly in front of me and looking down because of our heights. I grow accustomed to the heat his body spreads and the pink of his post-race cheeks. Falling for his looks before his touch steals my attention. His fingers slide down the side zip of my short skirt, pulling it down my legs until it reaches the floor. He pushes my legs apart with his foot and my pussy pulses with anticipation.

I observe him as his fingers don’t go close to where I need him, instead doing the job of taking my top off of me. I lift my arms up to help him, feeling the cool air of the room brush against my body.

“Take the rest off.” He tells me, standing back to watch my whole body. Eyes skimming me from top to bottom. My skin turned hot, a mix of emotions making me react in different ways. I nod, slowly taking my clothes off. Smiling to myself when I see Max brush a hand against the bulge in his suit.

Once my panties and bra lay on the floor Max finally comes back. Hands gliding down my arms and then intertwining with my fingers. He guides each of my arms above my head, giving him full access to my body. Making me more vulnerable than I’ve ever been.

The pads of his thumbs barely touch my nipples, forcing a whine out of my mouth and my chest to press into him. He pulls away immediately, draining his contact from me. And then he comes again, sliding his fingers over my nipples and I have to force myself to stay still.

Max’s fingers tickle down my bare body, he goes between my cleavage and caresses my breasts with the light touch of his finger tips. Soon going over my stomach and my lower abdomen. He delays the contact to my core and starts tracing my hip bones with each hand, slipping to my backside as he cups my ass with his hands.

“Fuck.” He mutters. Moving his hands from my backside to start lightly touching my thighs. Max advances to the inside of my thighs, spreading my legs a little wider, making it easier for his eyes and fingers. My lips parted long ago and breathing became uneven. Suspense ran through my veins as I felt the heat from his fingers approach my core.

I was certain my arousal was close to dripping on his fingers, and then he finally touched me. Not as firm as I wanted, but his fingers still make contact. Teasing my clit as his eyes are on me, watching as my bottom lip is drawn between my teeth.

The feeling was so new to me, I had never been touched by a man like this. Do I regret it, not really, because that would mean Max wouldn’t be the first.

A loud moan rips the silence of the room, the filthy sound leaving my mouth. His middle finger runs between my folds and I flinch at the feeling, letting the moan leave my mouth freely watching as Max smiles.

My climax surely builds up from his teasing strokes.

I then lose the feeling of his fingers, a cry leaving my mouth. “Be my good girl and show me how you make yourself cum.”

“I thought you were gonna make me a good girl. But I guess you’re not as good as I thought.” I slide my hand down my body, going down the trail between my legs. My eyes firm on Max as many emotions run across his face. I touch my clit and be sure to moan louder and longer than when Max touched me. My eyes were closed that I didn’t see as Max made his way closer, but his loud steps were enough.

My hand his forces off my body and held above my head. Max’s other hand now occupying the job he told me to do myself. He doesn’t take his time now. Thrusting two digits inside of me with force. “I’ll make you cum. Give me a number.”

“Three.” I whine out between each of his thrusts, focusing on the harsh face he gives me.

“Fuck, making it so easy for me. I already made you cum once.” He chuckles at the confusion on my face. Pulling his fingers out of me and showing me my cum that moves down them. I moan at the sight, then once again as he shoves them in his mouth. My eyes stuck on his tongue as he circles each finger. When he pulls them out of his mouth a string of saliva is hanging from his fingertip. I watch as he brings his digits closer to my lips, telling me to open my mouth to get a taste of him.

Max slides his fingers out of my mouth and drags it down my body.

“Let’s do something new” Max says as he goes on his knees. Kneeling in front of me and making my pussy throb. He doesn’t say anymore words as he forces my legs on his shoulders. I clench my pussy as his breath brushes against it in such a way it’s a drug.

The words slow, leisurely and gentle out of his mind as he starts eating me out. Like a starved man and I’m a whole dinner. The sensation of his flat tongue against such a sensitive part of me makes me crazy. My fingers diving into his perfect hair to ruin it.

He toys with my clit and slides his tongue inside of me.

It hadn’t taken long until I was reaching my release. Pulling at his hair with force and whining so loud I’m sure people outside could hear. But that only made it more thrilling.

“So quick. But I’m not done.” Max says against my pussy before going back in. Bringing me to surprise. He licks and sucks all my cum, fingers coming back to ram inside of me as his tongue toys with my swollen clit.

He made tears come to my eyes and a moan mixed with a whine to leave my mouth as I came another time. Even more sensitive.

Max helps me get off his shoulders before standing up to peel every piece of fabric off his body. Once my eyes laid on his skin I could truly say the suit doesn’t give him justice.

My mouth watered at the sight of his cock. Making me question how easily he would fit.

“Come here.” Max demands. And I do, walking up to him just for him to tell me to get on my knees. I grow nervous as his dick now sits in front of my face and as I’m about to grab it Max tells me to do something completely different.

“Go on your hands and knees. And face the mirror.” I quickly do it, seeing myself in the thin mirror. I look further up to observe Max. He grabs my hips, lifting them up so they're in line with his.

I hold my breath as he brings his dick to my entrance. Circling it with his tip and watching me through the mirror. He distracts me with his signature smirk and then rams inside of me. Bottoming out immediately. My mouth opens in an ‘o’ shape as he takes my breath away with his dick. Pulling out and then thrusting back in with more power. His skin slapping against mine and tip viciously hitting my g-spot.

Max leans forward and grabs my hair in a makeshift ponytail, forcing my head up. “I want you to watch as I fuck all the words out of your mouth.”

My vision blurred by the tears, but I make out our figures. My tears fall as Max drives his dick into me once again.

“That’s it. Cry over my dick. So. Fucking. Good.” He grits between his teeth at each thrust. I look at myself, being utterly ruined by a man I met a couple of days ago. He keeps my head up, not daring to let my eyes leave the mirror. His bottom lip is between his teeth and eyebrows furrowed as he keeps in his moans. Letting mine fill the room instead.

I can barely hold up my body as I get closer to my climax. Clenching around Max multiple times before I finally release.

A string of unholy sounds escape my mouth and it’s as if they set off Max, ultimately allowing me to hear him moan just as I had done before.

Max twitches inside of me before he releases. Swearing in dutch before calling me a good fucking girl. His cum fills and distracts me as he pulls out. Demanding me to stay there.

I expect to see him walk out with a cloth, but instead his phone. He angles the camera right behind me, capturing his cum that drips out of me and both our faces in the mirror.

My face holds confusion and he sees it, keeping a straight face.

“People usually have photos of their gods, something to look at when they worship it. And this is mine.”

886 notes · View notes

shenanigans-and-imagines · 7 months

Text

I Want It All: Part 1

Part 2, Part 3; AO3 Link

Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Asexual!Reader, Astarion x Bard!Reader

Flirting, Light Angst, Longing

Summary: You and Astarion had been playing this little game of yours for a while; he pretends to care, you pretend not to fall for it. It's easy, even fun at times. The trouble is, what happens the moment you can't pretend anymore?

A/N: This turned into a monstrosity. For my own sanity I need to break it up into three parts. I also apologize in advanced, the stuff in the preview won’t pop up until part 2. And please, REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS! I NEED VALIDATION TO LIVE!!!

Word Count: 4.8K

The day really couldn’t decide whether it was going to be terrible or tolerable.

On the one hand, it had been pouring rain for hours, leaving you and your party drenched as you searched for some place dry to sleep. On the other hand, you were able to find an inn with more than enough rooms to accommodate all of you. On the other, other hand, rooms cost money, something that was in short supply.

“How much does that make?” Karlach asked, placing her share into the pile.

Gale counted out the coins. “Enough for our own rooms, but not much in the way of food.” His brow furrowed slightly. “Hold on, this can’t be right. Who forgot to pitch in?”

All eyes turned suspiciously to Astarion.

He raised his hands in surrender. “I put down enough for the room. Food is something…you all have to deal with.”

Lae’zel gave him a hard look, the threat obvious on her features.

“We could always share a room or two,” Shadowheart cut in. “That will at least hold us over until we can find a way to make more coin.”

A devilish smirk formed on the vampire’s lips as his eyes turned to you. “I’m not opposed to the idea. Certainly would make it easier for me to get a little midnight snack.”

You gave a theatrical sigh. “Not tonight dear. I have a headache.”

“Teasing minx.”

“Can the pair of you not for ten seconds?” Wyll complained.

You bit back a laugh, turning your gaze to the dining area of the tavern. Gods you could smell something delicious cooking over the fireplace. When was the last time you had a proper hot meal?

It was then you turned your eyes to one of the empty corners. The solution to the issue of food suddenly became obvious.

“Not to worry everyone,” you announced, swiping the coins from Gale’s hand. “Dinner is on me.”

Before anyone could speak, you stepped towards the bar, making a point to put on your best smile.

A elderly halfling woman regarded you as you approached. “What can I get you deary?”

“Actually it’s a matter of what I can do for you,” you said. “I see you have some instruments sitting much too idly.”

The old lady shrugged. “Not really. Night like this you don’t need music to bring people in.”

Your smile faltered a moment, but you pushed on. “That may be, but nothing keeps people drinking longer and deeper than a good song.”

She gave you a disparaging look. “Don’t tell me, bard right?”

“Guilty.”

“If you don’t have money for the rooms, we don’t comp that.”

You waved the comment away. “The rooms aren’t the issue. However, if you’re willing to part with a cauldron of stew, I’ll consider it payment enough.”

Her eyes remained wary, but you knew you had her as a twitch came to her lips. “That’ll do. Thirty minute set. You eat after.”

She held out a hand which you took, striking the bargain.

It didn’t take long after to secure the rooms. They were nothing fancy, but a mattress was a mattress and with the guarantee of true privacy for the first time in weeks, none of you were complaining.

“How’s this about food then?” Karlach asked, taking a seat at one of the few tables large enough to accommodate all seven of you.

“All taken care of,” you assured. “Just need to pluck out a quick set and we can eat.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Astarion said. “I don’t mind it myself, but your songs have a tendency to be a bit, well…destructive. Frankly I’m surprised you didn’t use that cutting mouth of yours to simply insult the woman into feeding you.”

“As it turns out, I have a little thing called restraint. Unlike some people,” you countered.

“Oh trust me my dear, I’m well aware of that.”

You rolled your eyes, deciding to ignore the slight twist of guilt in your stomach.

He couldn’t seem to help making those kinds of jabs ever since you had declined his offer for a midnight tryst; always alluding to the theme of “untapped passions” or “delayed gratification”. It was starting to wear on you.

Gods knew you liked him. He had so many qualities you admired; insight, intelligence, charm, the way he could make you laugh. The more you learned, the more you wanted to know and the more you were willing to give for answers. The trouble was his idea of a night of passion and yours were so very, very different.

A part of you knew the honest thing to do would be to spell it out for him. You understood him well enough to know he’d respect those boundaries. At the same time, you didn’t want to lose this, whatever this was, between you. If suddenly that night of passion was off the table, all those moments, all his attentions would be lost. He’d be a friend, certainly, but nothing more.

It was selfish. You knew it was. You couldn’t imagine finding the words to explain it to him. It would leave you too exposed, too vulnerable to that insistent burning want that had a way of tearing you apart from the inside out. It was better to leave him to his assumptions of suppression and prudishness. You’d keep your dignity at least.

Pushing those thoughts away, you took your place in the unobtrusive corner and the spare violin waiting for you.

A smile spread across your face as you tucked the familiar instrument under your chin. Since this whole adventure of yours began, you had little opportunity to apply your skills. Music had always been a source of comfort to you. It felt right to indulge in it now, some place safe and filled with warm firelight.

With a flick of your wrist you began, the resonating tone of the strings filling the room.

You allowed your eyes to close as you slipped into the melody. The sounds of conversation and laughter fell to an idle murmur. It was a simple tune, something easy to match the atmosphere, but one you loved all the same. You always found it best to start with something familiar. If the patrons could see you get lost in the music, they inevitably followed.

As the first song came to an end, you chanced a quick glance at your audience.

Most of the patrons still prattled on, but enough turned your direction to encourage you to try something a little more daring.

Your fingers flew, igniting a livelier rhythm. More eyes found their way to you. A pleasant bubbling sensation filled you. They were falling right into your hands.

Rising to your feet, you glided across the floor, moving with the music towards the center of the room.

Patrons shuffled out of the way, transfixed by your performance. Even your companions had stopped their chatter.

Karlach and Shadowheart’s faces lit up in delight. A smile touched the corner of Gale’s mouth. Even Lae’zel and Wyll looked on with admiration at your skills. As for Astarion…Astarion just stared.

You couldn’t quite read what was going on behind those scarlet eyes. It was a look you had caught him wearing more than once, always blinked away before you could fully comprehend its meaning. All you knew was how it made that dangerous hope spark in your chest.

He caught you looking and quickly morphed his expression to its familiar smirk. The bastard even had the audacity to wink.

You rolled your eyes pretending not to have seen. It was all part of the game after all. He pretended to care, you pretended not to fall for it.

A lute suddenly joined you from one of the corners, strumming its way into a new song.

You turned as a cheer rose, encouraging the intrusive lutist forward. He was human by the look of him and certainly skilled in his own right. He took a moment to embellish your solo before taking over with one of his own. Soon enough you joined the conversation again with a counter melody. It wasn’t as clean as you would have liked it. The lad clearly had meant to upstage you, but you made sure to put him in line, allowing the impromptu duet to end in some kind of harmony.

You transitioned easily to a new song as he took a seat, bowing to you as he did.

Remembering your showmanship, you made a point to bow in return, schooling your expression into a flirtatious grin before pulling away. That earned the man a round of cheers from his friends and a few obvious oohs from the crowd; exactly as you intended.

You continued on with the remainder of your set. Requests were shouted from the audience, all the pieces of music moving to and from your fingers with practiced grace. By the end of it, your arms were exhausted, but your face hurt from smiling. Gods you had missed this.

As you took your bow, applause followed you back to your table as well as a handful of extra coin.

“That was amazing!” Karlach said, beaming at you. “How’d you learn to play like that?”

“Years of practice,” you said, with pride. “Had to find an honest living somehow.”

“Well, it was beautifully done,” Gale added. “Maybe next time we make camp you could grace us with another performance. Provided we’re not all about to die of course.”

You shot him a grin. “I could be persuaded.”

The wizard turned his gaze away, his lips turning into a knowing smirk. “You’ve been unnaturally quiet Astarion. Been bewitched have you?”

The vampire blinked as if coming out of deep thought. It was only in those last moments did you realize just how intently he had been looking in your direction.

“Yes,” he said, a little stiffly, “you were quite…good.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Be careful there. You wouldn’t want to overwhelm me with praise.”

He regarded you a moment before a sly smile turned at his lips.

You were almost relieved. That look you understood at least.

“If it’s praise you crave, you need only ask,” he purred. “You, my dear, are an unparalleled talent. Your beauty and grace alone should have brought you into the presence of kings. A true diamond in the rough.”

You snorted out a laugh.

“No good?” he continued. “How about this one; if I die tomorrow and the gods grant me mercy it will be your song that brings me into the beyond.”

You gave him a slow clap. “Brava.”

He inclined his head in a little bow. “But seriously, you were good and you didn’t even destroy the furniture. Admittedly though, I wouldn’t have minded if he had met with a little accident.”

You followed Astarion’s eye line to the lute player chatting with his friends. He perked up as he felt eyes on him. Without the distraction of playing, you could easily tell he was handsome in that sun kissed farmer’s son kind of way. Probably had most of the girls in the village swooning.

He raised a tankard to you in toast.

You met the gesture in acknowledgment.

“He wasn’t that bad,” you said, taking a sip of your drink.

“He was the worst part of your performance,” Astarion insisted.

You knew he wasn’t wrong, but you couldn’t help but have your fun.

“Oh my darling, don’t tell me you’re jealous,” you said, placing a hand over your heart.

“Certainly I am,” he said, clutching his own chest in turn. “He’s the only person I’ve seen you willing to make sweet music with. And judging from his looks, he would have much preferred it to be a private performance.”

You didn’t bother looking over to the other table to see if he was telling the truth. It didn’t matter either way. It never did. Your answer was always the same.

“He’ll have to keep waiting.” You shrugged. “Not my type.”

Astarion’s eyes narrowed slightly, leaning in closer. “And what exactly is?”

You didn’t answer, deciding instead to take a long sip of your ale.

He continued to eye you, his lips pursed as if trying to solve a puzzle. After a few moments he let out an exasperated sigh.

“Fine, keep your secrets, but I will figure it out eventually.”

Your lip twitched up into a half smile. “You may certainly try.”

It was then one of the staff brought out a truly enormous cauldron of the most delicious smelling stew you had smelled in your life.

You didn’t think to wait as you greedily poured a ladle full into your empty bowl. Two full days on the road with nothing but a handful of nuts and berries to sustain you had taken its toll. The rest of the group soon followed, each taking their share. You ate yours so quickly that by the time the ladle had made the circle, you were grabbing for seconds.

“Hungry are we?” Astarion observed.

You paused mid bite, heat rising in your cheeks. You took a quick look at everyone else. Nobody seemed to have noticed how you inhaled your food. They were content enough in their own bowls and conversation. Carefully you swallowed before self consciously setting down the spoon in your hand.

“I am the one who worked for this,” you said, more defensively than you intended.

Astarion regarded you with a raised eyebrow. “Even so, it’s not going to disappear the second you look away.”

“Says you.”

“Clever,” he said, dryly. “Devastating really. What’s next? Are you going to hit me with an “oh yeah” or Gods forbid a “your mother”?”

“I was actually leaning towards, “leave me to eat in peace you pompous jackass”.”

“Oh yes, that’s much better.”

You breathed out a frustrated sigh. Hopefully it would distract from your obvious embarrassment. You had thought you’d tucked those bad habits away.

Years of living on your own had left you going to bed hungry more times than you cared to remember. There was a time food had disappeared from your plate if you didn’t eat it fast enough. Of course, things got better. You found music and people willing to listen. It gave you fire and shelter and a contented stomach on good nights. Still, there were the bad ones and old instincts took over. It took practice not to be as ravenous as you knew your nature to be.

“Do I need to worry about your hunger?” you asked, deciding to change the subject.

“Oh you of all people should know by now. I’m insatiable,” he crooned.

Your eyes narrowed, unamused. “I’m being serious, when’s the last time you ate?”

He shrugged. “Few days. Last time I fed on you I imagine.”

Your stomach gave a sudden guilt ridden twist. If that were the case, it had to have been at least three days ago.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because as much as the image of you swooning in my arms is appealing, I’d rather it be over my charms rather than blood loss.” He nodded his head towards the bowl. “From my own experience hunger and restraint don’t mix.”

You tried to fight it. You really did. Years of instinct and reason told you not to fall for the softness in his eyes and voice. He simply didn’t want to explain a dead body to the rest of the party. It wasn’t out of some concern for your well being. And you absolutely could not allow yourself to believe he recognized the desperation in your actions and not pass judgment. If you believed that, you’d be in much more danger than you already were.

“Excuse me deary,” an elderly voice asked. “I was wondering if I could have another moment of your time.”

You turned to see the barkeeper at your shoulder.

“Oh,” you said, surprised. “Of course.”

You moved to stand, but she gestured you down. It was then you noticed she was carrying a case. It was worn with age, but clearly lovingly maintained as the edges shone with intricate gold inlay.

“I know you already paid for your meal,” she said. “But I was hoping I could ask for one more performance tonight.”

She opened the case to reveal the most beautiful violin you’d ever laid eyes on. The wood was a carefully polished chestnut interrupted with carvings which matched those on the case. The strings shone like gold and the pegs carved marble. You may not be a trained wizard, but could feel the magic pulsing from every square inch of it.

“What is this?”

“It was my father’s,” the woman explained. “He was a bard you see, best in these parts from what people told. He had so many stories and songs. Built it himself to help tell them. Try as I might though, I could never get it to play as sweetly. I was hoping you might.”

You looked to your companions. The obvious curiosity played on all their faces.

With a cautious hand, you plucked one of the strings.

It was perfectly in tune. The sound echoed, rich and vibrant even with so light a touch. The instrument itself seemed to glow as if happy to be played once again.

Slowly, you lifted it from the case, taking the bow in hand. You placed it on the strings and with an exhale drew the first notes.

It was the loveliest sound you’d ever heard.

The vibrations resinated in your fingers, moving through your arm and into your chest.

You decided to start simple, a handful of scales to get the intonations just right.

Color danced across the strings, rippling from your fingers like raindrops in a pond.

“Woah,” Karlach said, her eyes widening in awe. “Are you doing that?”

“No,” you said, pausing your motions, as you let it fall slack in your hands.

The elderly halfing smiled. “My father always said an artist puts their truth into every stroke of the bow. This here helps one’s heart shine. I saw the way you performed earlier, you’re not afraid to play what’s true.”

Color rose in your cheeks, unsure how to take such praise. “Thank you.”

She just smiled, nodding towards the instrument. “Keep playing. See what happens.”

You were suddenly aware of the rest of the party’s eyes turning expectantly towards you. Some with caution, some with anticipation, and one pair of red eyes with unreadable intentions.

Knowing there was no way you were getting out of this now, you rose from your seat, placing the violin securely beneath your chin.

You started slow, picking a tune every beginner memorized in their first lessons.

The music sparkled in front of your eyes, twirling outward in melodic waves.

The hum of conversation began to die down as you spotted the barkeeper beckon for silence.

You continued on, moving to something a little more complex, allowing yourself to let the rest of the room blur in the peripheries.

The sound of boots on cobblestones met your ears. Glancing down you saw stone where hardwood floors had been.

You took another step.

The stones followed.

Around you the room fluctuated between firelight and the brightness of morning. Looking up you could see a clear sky had replaced the hatched ceiling.

A smile spread across your face as you stepped away from your bench.

As if waiting for your queue the rest of the bar quickly moved tables and chairs out of the way, clearing the center floor.

The sun followed as the cobblestones spread out in front of you like a stream. With every flourish, finer details were added. You changed the direction allowing a building to form beside you, then another and another. Images of people faded in and out like memories, coming and going with the flow of the music.

You never felt anything like this before. The strings sang inside you, drawing out a melody you knew was there, but had always managed to slip from your grasp.

You surrendered to its current, following it deeper and deeper until all you could see, all you could touch was the music.

Behind your eyes the streets began to turn and change. Buildings loomed large overhead. You could hardly see the stars. A cold swept through your clothes, the chords of the melody vibrating with the shivers in your hands. The world was so much bigger and you were so much smaller.

No instrument laid in your hands, but still the music played on as if you had slipped into a dream.

You continued to walk unsure of where your feet were carrying you until something warm pressed against your back. Light reflected behind you, casting long shadows on the ground. A melody played, soft and soothing against your own. You turned towards it as the voices of long forgotten conversation and laughter accompanied the strings of a quartet.

Your chords and theirs brushed up against each other, a new light shining in the darkness, but just as soon as it began, it moved away, leaving you on your own once again.

You continued on, brushing against others. Sparks would fly, fire would ignite only for them it fade in front of your eyes.

Your own melody grew more desperate, moving and shaping itself to match whoever you found next only just able to cling onto the barest sense of itself.

An ache grew in your chest as you wandered, always searching, never finding. Something warm trailed down your cheeks. You let it flow, unable to stop. You wouldn’t end the story here, even as swirls of blues and blacks surrounded you. They wrapped around your body, filling your vision and squeezing tight around you until you felt the air being pushed out of your lungs. There was nothing else. Even the music had gone dead.

For what felt like a moment and eternity you sat there, alone in the dark.

A voice came to you then, but it didn’t come from the instrument tucked somewhere under your chin. No melody accompanied it. It was so far away. Something about it was so familiar. It spoke your name like a desperate prayer. You reached out for it.

The air itself moved around you as if you had plucked the very strings of the universe.

A low hum came next bringing with it two pin pricks of light. A red fire glowed in the darkened space, growing until they sat as two eyes burning in the air.

You cocked your head to the side. Your own song started again, cautious as it curled around the eyes, examining them from different angles.

The eyes crinkled at the edges, amused by your persistence.

With a blur of motion, it turned to the side allowing a profile to form and beginning an enticing melody of its own.

You and the face took turns, calling and answering in playful antagonism.

The lines of light continued downward as its counter melody grew in strength against your own, forming the outline of a man.

He stepped towards you, his own head turning to the side as yours had done before, examining you from every angle.

After a moment, he bowed. You curtseyed. And then you did what only felt natural. You danced.

The heat of his touch burned your skin, but you didn’t dare pull away. You had been cold for so long you hadn’t even known you were cold. Even when it became too much, the fear of the darkness kept you in his light.

The man in turn held you close, his song teasing against your own. So unlike the duet from before, this was a true conversation, the pair of you giving and taking in equal measure. You didn’t want it to stop, holding the feeling tighter and tighter until you felt the pulse of his fire inside you.

You looked up to find the embers of his eyes pouring into you. He moved your hand to his chest. A heart pumped beneath and you knew then it wasn’t his own. Just as you had taken from him, he had taken from you in equal measure.

His face came into focus, forming a familiar knowing smirk and playful scarlet eyes.

He stepped back from you, his hand holding yours as he bowed, placing a kiss on the back of your hand.

The song faded away and you were once again in your own body, a violin tucked carefully beneath your chin.

You blinked your eyes open to find the tavern standing as it had been moments ago. Patrons surrounded you, their eyes wide and mouths open. You glanced around the room, quickly finding your companions. Horror struck you as you read their expression.

They’d seen it. All of it.

Before you could register what was happening a wave of applause erupted from the crowd. People began to cheer. You heard awed whoops and hollers. The adoration was overwhelming and completely miss timed. You needed to lie down. You needed to think.

Numbly you bowed before making your way to the side of the room where the barkeeper stood.

You held the instrument out to her, unable to look her directly in the eye.

“Thank you for letting me play this,” you said.

To your surprise she didn’t take it, instead pushing your hands away with a shake of her head.

“Keep it love,” she said. “After seeing all that, feels wrong to take it away from you. You’ve more than earned the right to it.”

You wanted to argue. You wanted to scream. You wanted to curse her for ever asking you to touch the damned thing. Somehow you managed to swallow all of that down, mumbling another thank you before slowly turning towards your party.

There was still a chance to salvage this. Astarion hadn’t seen his own reflection in centuries. He didn’t know what he looked like. You could play this whole thing up to artistic license. You just carried a general feeling of desperate longing. No need for you to clarify its direction.

Making a point to keep your head down, you put the violin away and slid it over to Gale.

“Feel free to eat this one if you want,” you said. It was meant to be a joke, but even you could feel it fall flat.

“I don’t think I can do that,” Gale said, his tone holding nothing but sympathy.

“It really was lovely,” Wyll said, gently.

“Beautiful really,” Shadowheart added.

Your jaw tightened, caught between the urge to scream or weep. Why couldn’t everybody do you the favor of the lifetime and forget they saw anything.

“Personally I don’t understand your choice in the spawn, but–” Lae’zel started only to be hit hard in the arm by Karlach.

“What?” she snapped.

Your whole body cringed, knowing exactly what was coming next.

“That was…me?”

You were in hell. This was hell. You didn’t have to look up to see Astarion’s self satisfied expression. His tone made it clear enough.

In a flash you stepped back from the table, putting as much distance between you and the party as possible.

“I need to go,” you managed. “Goodnight.”

You sprinted out of the tavern, taking two steps of the time to the upper rooms. You didn’t stop until your door was firmly slapped behind you.

Your breaths came hard as your heart pounded in your chest. Honestly you didn’t know how you locked the door. Your hands were shaking so badly as tears blurred your vision. All the emotions the violin had pulled from you returned, overwhelming you in their intensity.

The instrument had done as advertised. It had shown the truth of your heart, putting it on display for the whole world to see. Gods you were an idiot. Why did you even pick up that damned thing?

You kept your ears open, listening as everyone made their way to their rooms. Their murmurs never made it past the walls, but the way they paused as they passed your door made it clear enough they were discussing you. Thankfully they were kind enough to leave you be.

Counting, you waited until all six doors shut before rising to your feet.

As you did, you felt a small pull at the back of your mind. A vision of a door number and the feeling of anticipation sat on your tongue. The invitation was clear enough; Astarion was waiting for you.

You wanted to ignore it, but you knew you couldn’t. There was no use in pretending any longer. The game was over and you would have to face the consequences.

With a steeling breath, you walked out the door. You could only hope Astarion wouldn’t hate you when it was all over.

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion baldurs gate #bard!reader #asexual!reader #asexual #bard!tav #astarion x ace!tav #astarion x evie

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azullumi · 6 days

Text

"baby, stay beside me a little longer" ; aventurine

premise — how you spend your day with him.

pairing — aventurine (w/ gender-neutral reader)

tags — established relationship, fluff, domestic, not proofread, text messages, 1.7k words ; headcanons

tagging — @toorurs (hi, we don't mention the event fics we have to do hahaha)

note — i miss him and i had the urge to write skincare aventurine. 3 DAYS LEFT UNTIL HIS BANNER

morning

As sunlight streams through the window accompanied with the gentle chirping of the birds outside, there’s no guarantee that one of you always wakes up first before the other. Sometimes it’s him that wakes up first and sometimes it’s you—it occasionally depends if one of you has plans later on or has a free day.

“What’s on your schedule for today?” You ask him, watching him as he buttons his shirt. Daylight illuminates the room and the sound of leaves rustling outside as the breeze flies past fills your morning, albeit you are still laying in bed, not having the desire to move. Aventurine is the opposite of your state right at this moment—already fresh out of his bath (the faint scent of his soap clings to his skin), dressing into his work clothes, though his hair is still messy. Honey-dyed locks tousled, with some strands sticking to the back of his neck and some on his face.

“I have a client to interview this afternoon. It was scheduled for next week but they changed it to today.” There was a hint of frustration in his tone as he spoke. You could immediately tell that the reschedule caused some issues with his plans so you didn’t press on any further. “Will you be home late tonight then?”

“No, I don’t think so. I’ll be home early.”

“What do you want to eat for dinner?” You say, remembering that you had no plans for today so you’ll just be staying home the whole time. Aventurine puts on his blazer, humming as he thought for a moment, before he answers: “I was thinking of taking you out tonight.”

You beam a smile at him, watching as he fixes the mess out of his hair and sprays perfume on himself soon after, knowing that the scent of it will follow you while he’s gone. “Oh, really? Where?” However, he doesn’t answer but instead, walks towards you and bends down to your level to give you a quick peck on your lips.

“You’ll see.”

He’ll often ask for your help in tying his tie. He knows how to do it, even much better than you, but he prefers the messy work of your hands than his own. Some of his co-workers would point out how his tie looks messy as if he did it in a rush and while he may laugh and nod, he won’t do anything about it. To him, it’s a reminder of you.

MORNING LAZINESS. It just happens but it’s not always that it does—you’re there besides him still too sleepy and grumbling on not wanting to leave the bed yet and how could he refuse? Sure, your hold on him is not that tight and he could easily slip out of your grasp, and sure, you may be close to falling asleep again and you won’t notice if he leaves but your skin is warm and close, your hands are soft on his, and the sound of your breathing comforts him. How could he?

noon

Your middays are often spent separately—both of you accomplishing your own sets of responsibilities. Aventurine would occasionally send you messages asking if you have had lunch already, asking what you’re doing, and telling you about how everything is going for him. Although the conversation doesn’t last that long, always being interfered with by either someone or something.

Your phone buzzes and the screen lights up as you receive a new notification. You were expecting a nonsense reminder from one of your apps but instead, it was a message and it was from none other than your lover, Aventurine.

However, on rare occasions that the both of you are at home and have no set plans for the day, he’ll spend his time together with you. You want to go on a spontaneous date? Sure, he was going to ask you out anyways. Feeling lazy and just want to be in bed the whole day? That’s fine, he wasn’t planning on doing anything. . You want to do something together but not want to go out? Perhaps you can bake and try out this new recipe, that is if you have the needed ingredients at your home.

evening

Evenings are saved for the both of you, which means nothing related to work. It’s the only time of the day where you and he are free from any of your responsibilities—unless, of course, he still has some things to do but that rarely happens. He’ll often come home with a gift or a bouquet of flowers that you like; he’ll only answer you with, “Just because,” if ever you would ask him what’s the occasion. It’s just something that he does, something that you should get used to.

However, there are moments where you have to spend your night alone as he has to come home late and there are moments that you’ll wait for him and he’ll come home to find you asleep on the sofa. A pang of guilt hits him as he crouches in front of you, brushing a few strands away from your face and whispering an apology that only the moon could hear. He’ll carry you to bed soon after.

The way you spend your evenings with him can vary—it could be a game night between you two which will become heated due to how competitive the both of you can be, or a movie night wherein looking for what to watch can take a longer time than the movie itself, or just something simple and relaxing for the both of you.

“You always have so many interesting stories to tell.”

“Is it bad?” You answer him, worry lingering in your voice. You were telling him of how your day went and how you saw something fascinating when you went out earlier, and he was sitting behind you, drying your hair since you had just taken a bath. You could feel his fingers run through your hair, the dryer in hand as he pointed the nozzle towards the crown of your head. The air blowing from it feels warm—just enough to not feel like it’s going to burn off your scalp—and combined with the gentleness of his hand, it all feels comforting, soothing.

“No, it’s not. I just feel bad and perhaps,” He turns off the dryer and places it down beside him, “I also feel guilty.”

You immediately turn to him, eyebrows knitted as your expression warps into a mix of surprise and concern: “But why?”

He hesitates, averting away from your gaze, “I don’t have much to tell you, I don’t have exciting or interesting stories to say.” He’s afraid you’ll find him boring, that you’ll get tired of him but what he doesn’t realize is that you won’t, and you never will.

“That's completely okay. You don't need to have something to say all the time.” You’re fine with it—even if you have to sit in silence with him, even if the days are becoming repetitive and tiring, as long as you’re with him, as long as you feel his hand in yours, it will all be fine. You touch the side of his cheek, “I’m just happy to spend time with you and talk about anything, or nothing at all. How has your day been?”

He turns his head to look at you—an alluring pair of vibrant and pristine hues, a pool of clear and vivid richness hidden in the depths of his eyes meets your gaze once more; “Nothing much happened. I met some clients and helped them, had a short meeting, and just did my work.”

“You didn’t go to the casino?”

“I was planning to but I wanted to see you more.”

A soft laugh escapes from your lips: “Is that so?” And he only hums as an answer, leaning forward to snake his arms around your waist and pull you closer to him before he buries his face in the crook of your shoulder. And you swear you hear him whisper the words, “I love you.”

Most likely has a nighttime skincare routine which he does with you (there’s no way his skin is that flawless and fair for no reason like you’re telling me that’s genetics???). He’ll be coming out of the bathroom with a clay mask or sheet mask on his face and he can’t speak because he doesn’t want to mess up the placement of the product and he’ll help you in putting yours on. The both of you on the bed with your robes on, hair either pushed back or tied, and there’s a pair of cucumber slices on your eyes along with a mask on your face.

He has trouble sleeping and it takes a lot for him to fall asleep—he’ll tire himself out, going on late night runs, exercise, drinking anything that could help him feel sleepy, anything. He’ll often spend his time tossing and turning while in bed and perhaps even counting sheep in his mind but somehow, just listening to your voice or the sound of your breathing makes it all easy for him. He’ll listen to you talk and tell stories and he’ll feel his eyes getting heavier in each second, as a warm and soft feeling envelops him like a blanket, and your voice will turn into a distant lullaby that guides him into slumber.

He wouldn’t even notice that he’s falling asleep in each second but maybe you do, maybe you’ll see the way he relaxes as his eyes threaten to close and his breathing comes steady, and maybe that’s why your voice keeps on getting softer until it turns into humming as you stroke his hair gently. He’ll apologize in the morning, telling you that perhaps he was so tired and he didn’t mean to fall asleep but you’ll assure him that it’s all okay.

Through the mundane things, in the boring days and the exciting ones, in days that you and him argue, in days that it all feels unbearable and suffocating, in every single moment with you, he’ll love you (tear him apart from skin to bones, see him for his heart, and you’ll notice your name carved into it).

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jeneveuxrein · 5 months

Text

safety net [2/2] (BLACKPINK Rosé)

word count: 25.8K

part 1 (14.8K) | part 2 (11K)

(yeah, lol)

Self-loathing has always been something you’ve done. It was likely the result of never being good enough for your parents even when you delivered on every single expectation they’ve had for you.

At this current point in your life, you hate yourself for the situation you blindly agreed to.

It’s been about a month since Rosie disturbed your peace in the library, asking if you’d teach her how to have sex, which translates into having sex with her.

You haven’t had sex yet, but you’ve done everything else a lot. Rosie has been eager to finally do it, but there’s something that always stops you. She gets frustrated, but you eat her out, quickly bringing her to an orgasm, and all is forgotten until next time. You sense her getting impatient, but you’re scared that once you finally do, that’ll be it.

And it’s been nice spending all this time with her. You see her pretty much every day. The only times you don’t is if she has to finish a project or if she has a date with Soohyun. When it’s the latter, you get all broody, but your mood immediately changes when she messages you as soon as she’s home.

Rosie doesn’t tell you much about the dates unless you ask. She has shared that they’ve exchanged a couple kisses here and there, but she often compares Soohyun to you—too much teeth, too aggressive, too… everything she’s not used to. It goes straight to your ego because how could it not.

The physical aspect of your relationship aside, you two are actually getting along. You still bicker, but it doesn’t end with her yelling anymore.

Rosie’s a catch, which is understandable based on the amount of people that want to be with her. She’s funny. She’s kind. She’s driven. She’s sometimes in her own world, that you often get lost with her when she rambles on about her day. She’s someone you could see yourself with if it was under different circumstances.

You hear your name being called, breaking you out of your thoughts as you stare at your computer screen. You see Rosie approaching you with Jisoo, waving as the other woman looks bored already.

“Hey Rosie,” You greet affectionately. “Jisoo.”

Jisoo gives you a wave, smiling, as Rosie walks behind your chair.

“Whatcha working on?” Rosie peeks over your shoulder.

It’s an expense report that your father sent you to look over, but you’ve been swamped with exams coming up.

“Just work stuff,” You answer, stretching your arms and letting out a yawn. “Are you done with your project?”

“Yeah, Jisoo and I were going to grab dinner but I wanted to find you before we left,” Rosie ruffles your hair. “I’ll come by after though?”

Jisoo makes a gagging sound, earning a glare from the woman behind you.

“Sure, I’ll be home around 8. I have a game today,” You inform her, checking the time.

“Oh what? You should’ve told me, I would’ve came,” Rosie sounds disappointed.

“It’s alright, I probably won’t play that much anyways,” You send her an easy smile. “I’ll see you later.”

Rosie nods, blowing you a kiss that has you blushing while Jisoo makes the sound again. She grunts when Rosie hits her arm, a quick bye before getting dragged away.

You watch their figures get smaller, suddenly missing Rosie that you can’t focus anymore on work. You sigh, shaking your head, deciding that you’ll just shoot around before your game.

“Why,” Rosie tears her lips away from yours, tilting her head back that you attack her neck. “Won’t you have sex with me?” She pants when you suck on her skin, careful to not leave a mark because he might see it.

“Are you in a rush?” You murmur, hand sneaking underneath her blouse to palm her breast.

“Well—no,” She gasps when you gently pinch her nipple. “I just think I’m ready. We’ve done a lot and I—fuck.”

“You what?” You continue your ministrations on her chest, massaging each breast with equal attention.

“I’ve been thinking about how you’d feel inside me,” You stop and she squirms underneath you.

If you weren’t hard enough before, you’re about ready to bust through your briefs.

You pull back, staring at her. Your mind’s going a mile a minute because you weren’t expecting to actually follow through tonight.

“I want this with you,” Rosie whispers, sitting up slightly to kiss you on the lips. “If anything hurts, I’ll tell you.”

Fuck fuck okay. It’s go time and you couldn’t talk yourself out of this.

“Okay,” You nod, kissing her forehead. “Are you sure?” You have to ask one more time.

“Yes,” Rosie tugs her blouse over her head, leaving her completely nude. “You’re overthinking this.”

You are, but for reasons she doesn’t know. You don’t even know yourself. You’re acting as if it’s your first time.

“Kiss me,” And you do, resting your weight on top of her.

It’s slow and sensual, her lips soft on your as you trail your hand between her legs. You swipe a finger in between her folds to check and she’s wet. She moans at the contact, rolling her hips for more contact. You repeat the movement just to be sure. You’ve been told that you’re above average in the size department, and you don’t want her to be in any pain.

Rosie gets impatient, tugging your waistband down to free your cock. You groan when her hand wraps around you, stroking you gently as you kick the material off.

When you deem her wet enough, you meet her hand with yours, guiding your cock in between her lips. Your body screams at you to enter her, but instead with your control quickly slipping, you run your length in between, moaning at the first contact of her pussy.

“Stop teasing,” Rosie pants, body trembling beneath you as you rock your hips.

“I’m sorry,” You’re really not. You don’t know what comes over you, but you lean back, spreading her legs wider as you grip your cock, spreading the precum over. “I need to get a condom.” You reach over to your nightstand, but she stops you.

“Have you had sex with anyone since?”

“No,” You’ve been too wrapped up in her that any woman that you’ve seen at a party or hooked up with previously hasn’t been on your mind.

“Then no condom, I’m on the pill,” Rosie says softly.

You stare at her for a moment, heart pounding against your chest at what she’s offering. Rationale goes out the window because even though you’ve had a condom rule for the past year, you’d love to feel her without one.

“Trust me?” Rosie bites her lip, nodding, eyes locked at your cock as you rest the head at her entrance. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

You take a breath, more for your sake, as your cock slowly enters her. Her hands shoot to your hip, stopping your movement instantly.

You’ve barely made any headway, but from what you’re feeling so far is too much for you to handle. She’s warm, wet, and tight as her body tenses at the intrusion. You keep reminding yourself to go slow because this is still her first time and going at the pace your body is telling you to would not be fair to her.

“Holy shit,” Rosie gasps as her hands move to grip your arms. “Keep going,” She breathes slowly, catching her breath as you press your hips slightly forward.

Her heat envelops you, applying a delicious pressure the deeper you go. You glance down at where your bodies are joined and you’re barely halfway there.

What you want to do is snap your hips forward, completely, but you’re aware of Rosie’s breathing and expressions for any signs of discomfort.

Though that awareness is quickly getting lost.

“Are you all the way?” Rosie asks weakly, eyes scrunched closed.

“Uh, almost?” You’re able to say as you gently rock back and forth to get your cock inside more. “How are you feeling?”

“It’s—fuck—not bad, but there’s just a lot of pressure,” Rosie breathes out.

Tell me about it.

You distract her by kissing her all over, keeping your rhythm as her body relaxes to take more of you in. Her nails scratch at your arms, but you’d take a little bit of pain any day.

You don’t realize it, but in no time, you’re fully sheathed by her heat, letting out a whimper when you see your cock disappear inside her.

“You doing okay?” You grunt, burying your face into her neck to keep yourself from cumming right then and there.

“Yeah,” Rosie sighs, experimenting by squeezing her inner walls around you.

“You’re so hot,” You murmur, trailing kisses along her neck. “Your pussy feels so good around me, you’re taking me so well.” Her body responds to your words—interesting—as she spreads her legs wider to take you in. “You like hearing how you make me feel, huh?” Rosie can only nod, tipping her head back.

You lean back, slowly pulling your hips back, and watch, entranced, as your cock slides out. It’s covered in her slick, and you’ve never seen anything hotter. You let out a sigh as you feel her contract around the tip. She moans and something snaps inside you that you suddenly thrust back in.

Rosie screams at the pressure, letting out a filthy moan that has you groaning. Your body moves on its own accord, slowly pumping your cock in and out of her pussy that has you seeing stars.

“Fuck, baby,” She moans, pants, as she starts to babble nonsense as her walls accommodate to your girth. “You feel so good.”

You try not to pay attention to the pet name, but it only spurs you on more.

Her walls rhythmically squeeze every time you bottom out. It doesn’t stop you. It makes you chase the feeling, an addiction that you wouldn’t mind having.

You lose yourself in her body, watching her bite her lip and lose her breath as she grabs onto the sheets. Hearing your name fall from her lips wakes something up in you.The sounds she makes drive you to thrust into her, and when you hit a certain spot inside, she demands you don’t stop. You don’t break rhythm as she squirms. You grab her hips, letting out groans of your own as you feel your orgasm coming.

“Chaeng,” Your hips falter as her pussy contracts after a particularly hard thrust, “I’m gonna cum.”

“Inside,” Rosie locks eyes with you, “Cum inside me.”

Your resolve snaps as you thrust wildly into her, chasing your orgasm as you feel the start of hers, walls squeezing your cocks so tightly you feel lightheaded. You feel her nails digging into your skin, holding onto like her life depends on it.

“Yes, yes,” Rosie chants like a song as her head snaps back, showing her neck as her body is wracked with pleasure.

Cum shoots from your cock inside her, painting her inner walls white, groaning as you rut into her. Your brain shuts off as you fall on top of her. She doesn’t seem to mind as she wraps her arms around you, placing soft kisses all over your face. You hear a contented sigh from her as you gasp for air.

When you come to your senses, you automatically kiss Rosie on the lips—a simple, sweet one—as you catch her breath against your lips. She tries to deepen it, but you pull away, smiling softly as you fully take her in. Your heart has never felt so loud.

“Hi,” You say quietly.

“Hey yourself,” Rosie returns your smile.

“You okay?” You glance down where you’re still connecting, hoping—praying—you weren’t too rough.

“A little sore, but never better.”

“ I wasn’t too rough right?”

“Nope,” Rosie shakes her head.

You gently pull out, watching her face wince, but she lets out a quiet moan when your softened cock brushes against her clit.

“Sorry!” You rush out, falling next to her as she chuckles.

“Stop,” Rosie lightly slaps your arm, bringing it to rest on her stomach.

“Sorry,” You mumble again.

“I feel it leaking,” Rosie states simply, sitting up to look in between her legs. You join her and see a dribble of your cum peak through her folds. “That’s kind of hot.”

“Chaeng,” You groan, the image of what’s between her legs etched in your mind forever.

“It is,” Rosie nudges your shoulder, laughing. “I’m exhausted. I hope I’m not too sore tomorrow, I have to carry a bunch of things to the studio.”

“I’ll help you.”

“Like actually?” Rosie sinks back into the pillow, turning to face you.

You nod.

“You don’t even have classes tomorrow?”

“I know, but I’ll take you to school with all your stuff,” You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t help her, knowing that she’ll likely be sore because of you. That wouldn’t sit well with you.

Rosie kisses you on the cheek, smiling before snuggling into you. It all feels very relationship-y, spiking your anxiety because you’re more attached to her than you ever intended.

And that scares you the most.

“Thanks Eunbi,” You send a grateful smile to the girl sitting across from you as you’re finishing up the group project that completely slipped your mind.

“It’s fine oppa,” Eunbi laughs. “It’s a low-stakes project anyways.”

“Still,” You roll your eyes, annoyed with yourself more than anything. “I would’ve literally forgotten about it if you didn’t say anything.”

You and Eunbi were assigned as partners for a project that wasn’t worth much towards your grade, but it was supposed to help with the semester project that was worth your entire grade. Eunbi was someone you interacted with frequently, sharing the same classes, but spending the past couple days with her has kept your mind off a certain someone (who you’ve been actively avoiding for the past few days)z

The day after you and Rosie had sex, you did drop her off at school, carrying all her things to the studio so she wouldn’t have to lift a finger. Naturally, people saw you together, creating a small rumor about you dating. It freaked you out because everyone is aware of her and Soohyun that you needed to distance yourself from her.

Of course, without her realizing what you’re doing. But Rosie was perceptive, so sooner or later, she’ll confront you.

“Are you doing anything right now?” Eunbi asks after she finished packing her belongings.

“Uh no?”

“Did you want to get dinner?”

“Sure why not,” You shrug because you’re not doing anything wrong, but why did you suddenly feel a weight on your shoulders?

Eunbi smiles, and she’s pretty. She knows it too, but she doesn’t let that get to her head. She is someone you haven’t gone out with or slept with, so it couldn’t hurt to spend a little bit more time with her outside of school work.

Right?

Wrong.

The universe has a funny way of making things happen.

As you’re exiting the library, Rosie’s outside. You try to avoid her, but she looks up at the right moment, eyes narrowing, and stomps her way over to you.

“Seriously?” Is all she says, glancing behind you to see who you’re with.

“What?” Your wall’s up, especially with people passing by. You pray to a higher being that she doesn’t make a scene.

“You know what,” Rosie huffs, crossing her arms.

“Uh, oppa,” Eunbi says before you could respond to the woman seething in front of you. “We can have dinner another time.”

You turn your head, and Eunbi has an understanding smile on her face, nodding encouragingly while you feel the metaphorical daggers stabbing the side of your face.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll see you around okay?” Eunbi’s eyes crinkle, nodding politely at Rosie before walking away.

Once Eunbi’s a good few meters away, Rosie tugs on your arm, “Seriously, what the fuck? You’ve been avoiding me.”

Okay so maybe you haven’t been handling this the best. You’ve intentionally missed her phone calls and blatantly ignored her messages. You don’t know if it’s because of how you feel towards her, which you’re still trying to figure out, or if it’s because you thought that it was a one-time thing.

“Can we not do this here?” You offer weakly, and her jaw noticeably clenches.

“Fine,” Rosie relents, shaking her head, cursing you under her breath before walking towards the parking lot.

You’re sitting on the couch, watching Rosie pace back and forth across your living room. She didn’t say much to you on the car ride over except that she was playing music. She grunted a thanks when you opened the door for her, opting to change into more comfortable clothes, leaving her some on your bed in case she wanted to change.

Other than that, she hasn’t said anything else.

“Did you want me to cook something?”

No response, the sound of Rosie’s feet continues to shuffle on the hardwood.

“You know,” Rosie stops in front of the window, back towards you as she looks out at the night city skyline, “I spent the last three days wracking my brain over why you weren’t talking to me.”

“I can–” Rosie shakes her head, prompting you to not say anything more.

“I thought everything between us was going well. Yeah we still bicker, but we aren’t arguing like we used to. We had sex. I thought it was great aside from the expected soreness, but then you just ghost me,” Thankfully she doesn’t see you wince. “I was like there’s no way he’s going to treat me like I’m one of his usual fucks, right? He has to have more respect for me.” Rosie turns around, eyes narrowed as she walks towards you.

“Rosie–”

“I thought about it more and I even talked about it with Lisa and Jennie because I needed someone, anyone really, to make sure I wasn’t going crazy,” Rosie stands in between your legs, crossing her arms. “Lisa being Lisa said that I was overthinking it too much, but do you want to know what Jennie said?”

“What?” You gulp, gaze locked on hers.

“Since you and Jennie had a fling, or whatever,” You detect something off in her tone when she says that, but if you point it out, she’ll yell at you. “She said that maybe you had feelings for me.”

Fucking Jennie.

“I called it absurd because it’s you and me. We set the rules, which for what it’s worth, we broke a couple of them, but that’s the one we absolutely couldn’t break,” Rosie’s eyes narrow, searching your face for truth. You hoped you weren’t giving anything away, but you weren’t too sure.

Sentences weren’t forming under her intense gaze, so you could only nod.

“I have to ask, do you have feelings for me?” Rosie asks point blank.

Yes is the short answer.

The long answer is much more complicated for you to put into words because you’re admitting to yourself that you do, and that’s what’s fucking you up more.

“No.”

“No? Then why were you avoiding me? I called. I texted. I had half the mind of just coming over here to curse you out, but Jennie stopped me,” Her shoulders drop, defeated, as the hurt breaks through her façade.

“I figured you were done with me,” You say softly.

“Why would you think that?” Rosie kneels in between your legs, resting her hands on your thighs. Your brain short circuits because it’s a very familiar position that your body has become very conditioned to.

“We had sex, isn’t that what you wanted? To just get it over with?”

“Well yeah,” Rosie folds her arms, cradling her face in her hands as she stares at you. “But I still want to do more things with you. Soohyun and I have gone on a few dates, but we aren’t anything official.”

“When he asks you out, that’s when this,” You gesture between your bodies, “Will be over?”

Rosie nods, “It would make the most sense right? I would be cheating on him if we continued doing things and I called him my boyfriend.”

It stings to hear that more than you thought it would, but you swallow that, pushing it deep down.

“That’s true. You’ll tell me when that happens?” You ask. You need to prepare yourself for a heartbreak you weren’t expecting.

“You’ll be the first to know when he asks me out,” Rosie moves, straddling your lap. “But for now, I want to do things with you,” She grounds her hips down, showing you exactly what she wants to do.

“Yeah?” Your cock starts to awaken, hardening as your hands grip her thighs. “Like what?”

“Ride you,” Rosie brings her lips to yours, murmuring, “I’m not sore anymore.”

You groan, mind clouded with her body bouncing on your cock—a very imminent reality as she pulls her top over her head, leaving her completely nude from the waist up.

“Go ahead, Chaeng,” You whisper against her lips, letting her take control of the night.

And you know you’ll be absolutely fucked out by the end of it.

Your hand contacts the flesh of her thigh, a loud smack rings through your room.

“Fuck baby,” Rosie moans loudly, rolling her hips back, trying to get your cock where she needs you most.

“Do you deserve it?” You bend forward, kissing her neck sweetly.

“Yes,” She pants, nodding obediently, squirming in your grip as she continues her movement, brushing your cock in between her lower lips.

Another loud smack echoes as Rosie nearly screams when you aim your cock at her opening, entering her in one swift thrust.

“Good girl,” You whisper, leaning back before watching your cock pull out just enough where your tip stays within her warmth.

“Please,” Rosie turns her head around, biting her lip, nodding that she’s more than okay. You feel her walls contract on your tip, a groan falling from your lips before you thrust back in.

You start off slow, wanting to savor this because whether Rosie knows it or not, this is the last time for this to happen.

Another month has gone by and Soohyun still hasn’t asked her out. Everyone knows they’re an item, but it hasn’t happened—yet.

Though everyone—besides her friends—doesn’t know that you fuck her every time after their dates.

The universe still never works in your favor, so you just happened to be in line to get coffee behind Soohyun and one of his friends before you had class. They spoke loud enough for you to hear his friend ask Soohyun when he was going to ask Rosie to be his girlfriend officially. Curiosity got the best of you, and when Soohyun said tomorrow after dinner, you knew you had to see her tonight.

It wasn’t out of the routine for you to see Rosie after school, but it was out of the routine for you to ask. You hardly initiated it because you didn’t want to assume, but the few times you did, it was because of your parents’ pressuring you to join them on an overseas trip to Japan to meet with the Nakamuras. You were overly stressed out and Rosie conditioned you to go to her to release any frustrations you had.

Was she surprised when you walked up to her in front of her roommates? No, because you were friends with them too. Was she surprised when you asked if she wanted to come over tonight? You weren’t sure, but you saw her head tilt, questioning before answering sure. You ignored the smirks that formed on their faces.

Rosie knew something was up the moment you pushed her against the front door as soon as it shut, dragging your lips across her neck.

“Everything okay?” Rosie asked in between breaths, letting out a squeak when you grabbed one of her legs, wrapping it around your waist.

“Yeah,” You answered, ignoring your thoughts as you grounded your hips over hers.

She didn’t ask anything else, moaning softly as you sucked on her collarbone, lifting her other leg to carry her to your room.

Rosie’s inner walls tighten along your cock on every pull out, and she moans, chest heaving as she takes your cock. Her body quivers in your hands as you saw yourself in and out, in and out.

“Baby,” The pet name falls from her lips. She only calls you it when your balls deep in her, and it spurs you on every single time. “You feel so good.”

“You’re a good girl,” You murmured, pressing your chest against her back. You stop your movements, leaving your length fully sheathed inside, “Show me what good girls do.”

Rosie lets out a small whine, squirming as she moves her body along your cock. Her hips gyrating on yours has you seeing stars, moaning in her ear. Her pussy tightens, rubbing itself over and over, and you scoff, knowing she found the special spot inside of her.

One hand slaps her ass, and she stops.

You’ve learned a lot about Rosie this past month. She may mouth off at you a lot in public, but behind closed doors, she’s obedient as ever, tapping into a side of you you hadn’t been since Nayeon. You both soon realized, after a particularly long night together, that it was something you both enjoyed with each other. Whenever she was particularly bratty, especially with her friends there, it would rile you up a lot.

“Good girls don’t cum first,” You say flatly. “Guess we stop now.” You slowly pull out before her hand reaches for yours, stopping your exit.

“No no no,” Rosie whines, vigorously shaking her head. “I’m sorry, you just feel too good.”

“Selfish,” You click your tongue, shaking your head.

“Baby please,” Rosie begs. She squeezes her inner walls on what’s remaining inside her, a dangerous trick she learned quickly, that has you groaning, slipping your length back inside. “Oh shit,” She moans at being filled.

“Fuck fine,” You relent, but you had other plans for her. You stand upright. You reach for her long blonde hair, tugging with enough force to pull her back against your chest. “But I’m fucking your pussy. This,” You snap your hips against hers, “Is mine. Right?”

Eyes widening, Rosie nods enthusiastically, “Yes baby yes.”

“Mine?” You snap your hips again, watching her breasts bounce.

“Yes,” She moans.

“Say it.”

Her hand turns your head towards her, bringing you in for a lustful kiss, tongues dancing as she moans, yours, into your mouth.

You suddenly drop the grip on her hair, her body falling onto the bed, taking you with her. You fall on top of her prone form and start hammering into her pussy.

You hope her screaming doesn’t get you a noise complaint, but if it does, you don’t give a flying fuck. Especially with the pressure her pussy is, squeezing your cock for all you have.

“Fuck you’re so good,” Rosie bites into her lip, eyes rolling back as she grips the sheets, crumpling in her hand. “So fucking good,” She repeats in between moans.

“You’re being good for me,” Her pussy tightens at the praise. “Keep being good for me.”

Your hands grip her ass, drilling your cock into her, and something snaps inside of you when she screams.

“Fuck this pussy’s mine,” You groan against her tangled hair.

“Yours, yours, yours—oh fuck,” Rosie chants, eyes shooting open as her orgasm surprises you both.

You feel your cock get pushed out as Rosie begins to squirt against your body, and she fucking gushes.

You’ve never made a girl squirt before, and Rosie has never had such a bodily reaction. You feel a streak of possessiveness rolls through your body. You shove your cock through her wetness, and you feel another rush of liquid as you wildly thrust in and out of her body.

“Fuck Chaeng,” You moan, your mind screaming mine mine, as your orgasm hits, shooting your load deep inside her. It must’ve triggered another orgasm because her pussy tightens again, knocking the air from your lungs, as your hips stutter erratically.

“Jesus fuck,” Rosie pants from underneath you, her body still quivering from her orgasm. Your chest heaves, hands slipping underneath her waist to hold her tightly. “That was…I don’t even know.”

“Yeah,” You grunt, kissing her hair before gently pulling your cock out. You don’t know either because you’ve taken Rosie roughly before, but never like this. She lets out a quiet moan, sighing, as you glance down to the mess between you. Quite a mess indeed.

Your body collapses next to Rosie as exhaustion takes over, but she quickly snuggles into you, wrapping an arm over your back.

“Are you okay?” Rosie mumbles into your ear, chin resting on your shoulder.

“Are you?” You turn your head to face her. The guilt washing in after you realize how hard you were on her.

“Well I know for a fact I’ll be sore tomorrow, but I’m great,” Rosie kisses your skin, mumbling out, “But seriously, are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You ask quietly.

Rosie stares at you, peeking her head over to search for an answer you’re scared she’ll find. She looks beautiful, and you’d love to tell her, but with the way she’s looking at you, something else might slip out.

“You called me mine,” Rosie says softly, bringing her fingers to comb through your hair.

“Sorry,” You bury your face into your pillow, embarrassed. “Heat of the moment,” You lie, knowing damn well it wasn’t.

“Don’t be shy,” Rosie scratches your head. “It was cute,” Giggling softly before adding, “Being yours sounds nice.”

You’re at a bar with a few of your friends—Jennie and Lisa included. It’s a normal night out with your friends to celebrate making it another week. You couldn’t really enjoy it like you normally would because you’ve been checking your phone every couple minutes, waiting for a message you know is coming your way.

“Oppa, pay attention to us,” Lisa whines next to you as Jennie chuckles on her lap.

“If you want to have a threesome, just ask,” That comment earns you a hard smack on the arm from Jennie, huffing in her now-girlfriend’s lap.

“Oh fuck off,” Jennie spits out, muttering to Lisa about how much of an asshole you are and why she ever slept with you.

You check your phone for any notifications and your heart drops when you see one from Rosie. You casually glance to make sure neither of the girls are peering over your shoulder, while you hear them talking to Ryujin on their other side.

You take a breath, tapping the screen to read the message.

Soohyun asked me to be his girlfriend.

You already knew it was coming, so why did it still hurt?

You lock your phone, shaking your head, as you try to process your emotions.

The time you’ve been spending with Rosie is over, and you couldn’t help but feel sad over it. It feels like when you and Nayeon broke up, but a thousand times worse. It’s not like you two were actually a couple, mere fuck buddies that spent hours together watching shows, eating out with, and a lot of other things in between.

But then why does it feel like it was more than a fuck?

You were aware that you were growing attached to Rosie, but you feigned it off that it was just because of how much you saw each other. She became part of your routine, that you couldn’t remember the time when she wasn’t.

Your attachment clearly was more because you developed feelings, actual feelings that weren’t revolving around lust. So yeah, you like Rosie, hell, you may even be in love with her at this point, but you lost your shot.

And there probably won’t ever be another.

You groan, slamming your hand on the table loud enough that it jolts the girls next to you.

“Oppa, what the fuck?” Jennie asks, concerned with your sudden outburst.

“I gotta go,” Your voice cracks, walking away before you break down completely.

“Wait!” Lisa yells after you, spurring you to move quicker through the crowd.

You turn your head before you exit, but you can’t pinpoint their face in the sea of people. You let out a sigh of relief, knowing you lost them, before the thought of Rosie seeps back into your mind.

You need something—anything—to get your thoughts and feelings off of her. An idea quickly comes to you, one that you regret having, but it’s your only option.

You pull your phone out, scrolling through your contact list before hitting call.

The line rings once before a concerned voice answers.

“Book me a flight to Osaka.”

It’s been two weeks since you received a message that shattered you.

It’s also been two weeks since you left for Osaka abruptly, deciding to join your parents to meet with the Nakamuras for another business formality.

Your parents were surprised that you wanted to join, especially since the last discussion you had with your father had your mother having to step in between before either of you slammed the other into the wall. Your father was excited the moment you showed up at your childhood home straight after the club while your mother looked concerned. She asked if everything was alright, but you brushed her off, not wanting to get into it with her.

Regardless, they were still happy you joined them. Your father more so as he made the off comment that it would be good to spend some time with Kazuha.

Which you did, and with Satoshi.

You gave Kazuha the heads up that you’d be arriving with your parents. She was another person surprised, but she welcomed you nonetheless. You also met her boyfriend, who you quickly became close to, much to Kazuha’s dismay. She’d tell anyone that she was the third wheel by how much you and Satoshi spoke.

It was only meant to be a weeklong trip, but Kazuha and Satoshi invited you to stay for their school break, to visit Tokyo and Hiroshima. You jumped at the opportunity. Anything that kept you away from seeing Rosie and Soohyun holding hands on campus was what you wanted.

Satoshi brought his younger sister along too, Kasumi. You thought she was a bit of a hothead, but she was pretty and you were in another country trying to get over someone.

When it came down to actually hooking up, you couldn’t. Your body physically shut down from anything you two alluded to. Making out had no effect on you. Her rubbing her hand over your crotch felt nice, but not enough for you to get hard. You felt bad, but you explained that you just couldn’t because you weren’t in the right headspace for it. You were so caught up in your feelings with Rosie that you couldn’t perform, no matter how much Kasumi was interested.

She understood, chuckling because she figured there was someone else, but she thought you were cute so she wanted to at least try. There weren’t any hard feelings, leaving Japan with two great friends. And Kazuha too, you guess.

You hear your mother call your name out from across the aisle, motioning for you to sit next to her as the plane starts its descent.

“How are you doing?” Your mother asks once you buckle your seatbelt.

“I’m fine,” An automated response whenever either of your parents ask, but the difference between them is that your mother has a tendency to prod.

“How was Tokyo?”

“It was fun. Kazuha and Satoshi took me around,” You answer vaguely, knowing that if you shared actual details about what you did, she would have a heart attack.

“That’s great,” Your mother nods, smiling. “How’s Chaeyoung?”

You freeze. You knew your mothers spoke often, but she had rarely ever asked you about her.

“I saw Alice a few weeks ago as I was coming home. She mentioned you and Chaeyoung had been spending some time together,” Your mother continues, noticing your sudden apprehension.

Oh.

That’s news to you because you didn’t think Rosie mentioned you to Alice of all people. The siblings were close, like really close, so if she talked about you, it probably meant something. But you were trying to get over her, and thinking about what it could mean would drive you crazy.

“Oh, uh, Rosie’s doing well. I think she’s going abroad for her internship this summer, she just has to decide where she wants to go,” You say. Rosie had been bouncing ideas off you since she heard back. You were there when she received a couple emails, watching her shock and excitement paint her face. She nearly ripped your clothes off when she got accepted into the one she really wanted.

“Fashion right? Chaeyoung always had an eye for that,” Your mother answers pensively.

You’re inclined to say something else, but another question is thrown your way before you could.

“Are you two dating?”

“Mother,” You roll your eyes.

“That’s not a no,” She quips, chuckling at your expense. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me. You’ve always been fond of her ever since you were kids. We, her mother and I, have talked about it before.”

“What’re you even talking about?” You sigh, shaking your head. This conversation has taken a turn for the worse. You thought your mother wanted you to marry Kazuha, but apparently, she has been talking to Rosie’s mother about you two for years.

“You don’t remember? You used to come home frustrated with Rosie, whining and grumbling about why she wouldn’t talk to you,” Her words unlock a box you kept hidden away. “It wasn’t until you hit high school where you pretty much gave up trying to be her friend. Even at that point, Rosie would talk to you, or maybe more antagonize you is a better description. You were beaming after those weekly dinners with the Parks.”

You didn’t comment as thoughts and feelings rushed to the surface.

“Regardless, we thought you two would date at some point,” Your mother shrugged as if what she just said had no impact on you.

Your mother doesn’t say anything else, opening one of her latest novels, signaling that the conversation is over.

It really didn’t matter how you felt before, but then why does it feel like it’s making it a hundred times harder to get over her?

You drop your duffel bag on the floor, kicking the door shut, as you’re finally home after two weeks. You plop your body on the couch, yawning from the flight. You have to go to campus tomorrow, which you weren’t entirely excited about. The chances of you seeing her were high, but you didn’t know what she was going to do.

You’ve been avoiding all messages she sent you, which were a lot. She called you too, leaving a few voicemails that you couldn’t bring yourself to listen to. Kazuha caught you staring at your phone one night and made you promise not to open any messages that could derail your trip. It didn’t help Satoshi agreed, saying that it would be like a reset.

You decide that now was the time to check them.

Where are you?

Can you answer the phone?

I’m coming over.

I’m outside, can you open the door?

Fuck it, I know your code.

Where the hell are you?

Did you go to Osaka?

All those messages were from the day after Soohyun asked her to be his girlfriend. You saw she texted you everyday for a week asking if you could call her, but her last message broke you.

I can only assume you went to Osaka. I hope everything’s okay.

It takes everything in you to not reply now. If you do, you’d just be an asshole to her for no contact for two weeks. You’re an asshole either way, but it would rub salt in the wound.

You check your other messages and see a few from Jennie, who rightfully curses you out for being a dick and to just respond so Rosie knows you're alive. Lisa sent one too, asking you where you are, but no threats. Jisoo’s message made you chuckle, a simple reply to her or else, was clear enough.

You sigh, locking your phone and tossing it on the coffee table.

You’ll deal with everything tomorrow.

The first person that approaches you on campus is Jennie. She shoves you, letting her when you know you could overpower her.

“You’re a fucking ass,” Jennie pushes you again, enough force to lose your balance.

“What did I do?” You stupidly ask, avoiding her piercing gaze.

“You know what the hell you did, you better fucking talk to her,” Jennie says firmly, poking your shoulder.

“If I see her,” You mumble, rubbing the spot.

“You better,” You wait for her to say more, but the sound of her walking away brings your gaze to her retreating figure.

Sighing as this isn’t how you want to start your day, you decide to be early for class.

The universe doesn’t even want you to be early because Nayeon stops you along the way.

“Hey I need a favor,” Nayeon asks, standing in front of you.

“What?” You didn’t mean to sound irritated, but blame Jennie.

“Can you do this photoshoot for Mina and Sana? Their original photographer flaked, and they’re out of options,” Nayeon explains and you know she’s telling the truth.

“Why me?”

“I suggested you. I remember you taking photographs,” Nayeon smiles softly. “It’s a project that’s worth half their grade and their professor wants quality pictures.”

“What class is it for?” You prod, adding, “I’ve never done a modeling kind of shoot.”

“Their visual concepts class, I think. I don’t know. All I know is that they texted the group chat, stressing out,” Nayeon explains, shrugging since she was a film major.

“Fine,” Nayeon claps happily, “Are you going to be there?” You had to ask, needing the time to mentally prepare yourself to spend, most likely, the whole day with her.

“What? No,” Nayeon shakes her head. “I’ll be in Busan this weekend. Why did you want to hang out with me?” She wiggles her eyebrows.

“Absolutely not,” You say firmly and her shoulders drop.

“Fine whatever,” Nayeon huffs, hiking her bag on her shoulder. “Anyways, I’ll text you the details about it later. It’s tomorrow. I don’t think you need to bring anything, but bring your camera stuff just in case.”

You nod, thinking about your schedule for tomorrow, which thankfully nothing was planned.

“Oh,” Nayeon turns her head, adding one last detail before walking away, “Chaeyoung will be there too. She’s styling them.”

Nayeon doesn’t wait for you to reply, leaving you speechless and even more irritated.

Fucker.

“Let’s take a break,” You announce after checking the shots you just took, satisfied with the outcome. “Fifteen?”

“Oh thank god,” Sana sinks to the ground as Mina chuckles next to her. “If we weren’t desperate, I wouldn’t have said yes.”

“Be thankful I care about this, or your project would be shit,” You answer, flicking through the pictures and thinking of how to change the lighting.

“Thanks again for doing this, oppa,” Mina squeezes your arm before walking off to sit with Momo.

You grumble a reply, turning without even thinking, and you accidentally bump into someone.

“Shit sorry,” You look up to see Rosie five seconds away from losing the grip on the clothes she’s carrying. You immediately drop the camera against your chest, reaching for the items and taking it out of her hands.

“It’s fine,” Rosie grabs the clothes back without another word, walking towards Mina.

You sigh, shaking your head, trying not to lose focus on why you’re here.

When you arrived this morning at one of the parks at the Han River, most of the crew was already present, setting up. You greeted everyone before seeing Rosie with Dahyun, discussing the outfits and concepts.

“Hey good morning,” You greeted softly as you stood in front of them.

Dahyun gave you a bright smile while Rosie forced hers, the smile not quite reaching her eyes.

“Morning oppa!” Dahyun was as cheerful as ever at eight in the morning on a Saturday. “You could use the school’s equipment if you want,” She nods towards the table with the camera and lenses, “But feel free to use yours, whichever you feel comfortable with.”

Another woman walked up to Dahyun, asking her to come with her to make sure they were correctly set up. Dahyun excused herself, leaving you alone with Rosie.

“Chaeng—”

“Now you want to talk?” Rosie’s words cut sharply. “I don’t have anything to say to you right now, can we just get through today?”

“Okay,” Was all you could say, nodding. You knew she had a lot to say, but neither of you could exactly hash it out with all these people around.

“Okay,” Rosie nodded, grabbing whatever was near her, and walked away.

Once Sana and Mina arrived, you quickly switched gears. You pushed whatever thoughts and feelings you had for Rosie aside, and went straight into work mode.

You had zero experience taking photographs like this. Sure you’ve taken photos of your friends, and Nayeon would force you to take pictures of her whenever you went out. The last person you took a photo of was Rosie when you walked through the streets of Myeongdong a few weeks back.

That was about as close as you got to taking pictures of people, but working like this was exhilarating.

You and Rosie worked well together too. It made you a lot more comfortable with directing with how seamlessly it went. You asked her opinion on what lighting should be used and she gave feedback that had the shots coming out great. Other than suggestions, your conversations had been minimal.

“You know,” Sana joins you in the empty seat next to you as you sift through the photos on the laptop, “You’re an asshole right?”

“Okay what the fuck,” You break your attention away from the screen to a smirk on Sana’s face.

“Chaeyoung-ah talks to us, and she sort of filled us in about this guy, who wasn’t Soohyun, that she had been seeing,” Sana sinks into the chair, glancing at the picture of her and Mina on the screen. “It wasn’t really hard to put two and two together about who she was referring to, and Nayeon confirmed something was going on between you.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” You brush the woman off, rolling your eyes as you delete one of the blurry shots.

“Sure you don’t,” Sana chuckles, “But regardless of whatever was going on between you two, you should know—if you don’t already—Rosie didn’t say yes to Soohyun when he asked her out.”

You don’t let her words faze you as you continue to delete shots you don’t deem worthy.

“One could only wonder right?” Sana goes on, oblivious to your inner turmoil. “Soohyun’s a good-looking guy, nice enough, and spent a fair amount of time courting her, just for him to be rejected.”

“What are you getting at Sana?” You stop what you were doing, turning to face her.

“Just wanted to figure out why Rosie said no,” Sana shrugs as Dahyun passes by, informing her that it’s time for the next outfit change. “Anyways, Rosie wouldn’t say, but it’s obvious why.”

“And why is that?” You take the bait, preparing yourself for whatever’s going to come out of Sana’s mouth next.

“Because of you,” Sana stands, letting out a small yawn. “Anyways, let’s get this over with. I’m ready to drink. Don’t be a dick.”

You aren’t sure if Sana was referring to herself or to Rosie, and you couldn’t ask since she left to go change into the next outfit.

The rest of the photo shoot goes without a hitch. You tried your best to not let the conversation with Sana bleed into your work, and you hoped no one noticed. It was slightly harder than it was already to work with Rosie, but you maintained some sense of professionalism.

There was a minor issue with the zipper breaking on Sana’s dress, but Rosie was quick to fix the problem by throwing a blazer over her. Other than that, everything went well. You thanked everyone for their help today, realizing it was a long day, which everyone was happy to hit the bar once everything was packed up.

You offered to edit the pictures for them, since you didn’t exactly want to go out. Mina said you didn’t have to, but you were adamant about it. Sana shrugged, indifferent if you joined or not.

You see Rosie talking to Momo and swallow your pride as you make your way to them.

“Come on Chaeng,” You catch Momo say as you get closer. “It’ll be fun!”

“I don’t think so Momo,” Rosie shakes her head. “I just want to stay in tonight.”

“One drink?” Momo begs as you stand next to the women.

“Sorry Momo,” Rosie smiles, eyes falling on you before her smile slowly fades.

“Oppa, convince her to go,” Momo pouts.

“I’m with her on this one Momo,” She frowns, shaking her head, muttering something in Japanese that makes you laugh. “I understand, you know that right?”

Momo’s eyes widened, cheeks starting to turn red before walking away.

Once Momo’s a good distance away, you turn to Rosie, a sad smile forming on your face as she looks everywhere but at you.

“Can we talk?” You ask quietly.

“So talk,” Rosie crosses her arms.

“Like in private? Please.”

Rosie relents, sighing. “Let’s just finish with cleaning up and we can go for a walk okay?”

“Okay,” You nod, grateful that she’s giving you the time of day.

You have to be honest with her, and if she rejects you completely, at least you can say you tried.

—

Rosie shivers next to you, the chill of the sunset creeping in. You shrug your coat off, wrapping it around her shoulders.

“Thanks,” Rosie mumbles out as you continue walking along the river.

There are a few people out as well, mostly couples huddled together. It almost makes you want to wrap an arm around her to keep her warm. You won’t though because it’s awkward.

Rosie walks into the convenience store without saying anything, which you follow her into. She grabs an instant coffee before turning to you, asking if you wanted anything. You shake your head, even though the bottle of soju behind the glass screams your name.

When she goes to pay, you quickly swipe your card before she could say no. She scoffs, shaking her head, as she walks out. You follow her, keeping a small distance as you watch her take small sips with every step. She stops, leaning on the railing, and stares out to the river.

Naturally you join her, letting the background noise fill the silence.

After a few minutes, Rosie says, “You wanted to talk, so go ahead.”

“First off, I’m sorry,” You say quietly. You apologize for not replying, and most likely worrying her. You explain that going to Osaka was an impulsive choice, but that doesn’t excuse your behavior.

“Well why? Did I do something?” Rosie turns to face you, lip quivering. You notice her eyes suddenly glossy, and it pangs you to see her like this.

“No, no,” You shake your head firmly, closing your eyes as you choose your next words carefully. “When I got that text about Soohyun, I finally accepted something.”

“What?”

You slowly open your eyes, staring at her features, completely enamored by her. Like you always have been.

“I’m in love with you,” You admit for the first time out loud, and you’re happy it’s to her.

Rosie’s eyes widen, gaze looking away as her whole body shifts to face the water again.

“You’re an asshole, you know that right?” Rosie says quietly. “And an idiot.” She adds, huffing.

Not the response you were expecting, but before you could ask what she means, she tells you anyway.

“I’ve spent mostly every day with you for the past month, then we have a really intense night of sex where you fucking claimed me,” You wince at her words, “Then you just leave for two weeks without any contact to come back and say you’re in love with me because of a text of someone asking me out?”

“Well when you put—”

“I’m not finished,” Rosie huffs, facing you once again. “I’m in love with you, too dumbass. After that last night, I realized that as much as you piss me off, as much as you’re so fucking stubborn, that the idea of being yours felt real. I couldn’t say yes to Soohyun when I unknowingly said yes to you.”

“You want to be with me?” You stare at her, dumbfounded.

“If that wasn’t clear enough, yes,” Rosie rolls her eyes. “We’ve basically already been dating, so if you’d just stop running away after and just talk to—whoa,” She gasps when your arm snakes around her waist, pulling her into you, tilting her head up.

“Say it,” You ghost your lips against hers, moving as she misses.

“See, stubborn,” There’s a sharp inhale when you kiss her sweetly.

“Say it,” You mumble, dipping your tongue in as she lets out a moan.

“Yours,” Rosie wraps her arms around your neck, melting into you as the kiss deepens.

“I love you,” You detach your lips, resting your forehead against hers.

“I love you too,” Tracing her fingers along your neck, “Even though you’ve been a jerk these past two weeks. How are you going to make it up to me?”

“I can think of a few ways.”

Rosie slams the door behind you, wincing at the frames rattling against the wall. She kicks her shoes off aggressively, barely sparing you a glance as she walks to your room. That door also slams.

She’s pissed.

Maybe it was your fault. Okay so it was your fault, but you didn’t mean for it to happen.

You met up with a few of your friends to celebrate the end of exams and the school year. It was also a small farewell to you and Rosie as you were going to Paris together for the summer. Rosie took the internship at YSL and she was able to get you one too after she sneakily sent over the portfolio from the project.

Your parents didn’t mind, figuring it would be good for you to take this time before you graduate into the real world. They were supportive that if you decided to do it for real, they’d be more than okay with it. That surprised you, but you couldn’t complain. Though the teasing from your mother was enough.

You were at the bar, waiting to get your order when Ryujin sat in your lap. You couldn’t do anything as her weight pressed you down.

“What the hell Ryujin?” You try to get her off you.

“Oppa, come on. When are you going to ditch Chaeyoung and get back to bed with me?” Ryujin grounds her hips over your crotch, stealing a moan from you as the movement catches you off guard.

“I’m not going to,” You grit out as she repeats the movement.

“What the fuck?” You hear Rosie’s voice behind you, gathering the strength to push the woman off your lap.

“I can explain!” You turn to face her, hands up.

“Come on Chaeyoung, share him,” Ryujin trails a finger up your chest. “I miss him.”

“Oh you fucking—” You step out of Ryujin’s hold, lungeing for your girlfriend before she mauls the other woman.

“Let’s go,” You nearly carry Rosie out as she squirms against your hold. A few people stare as you walk by, but she was about five seconds away from causing a bigger scene, that you couldn’t care less.

Once you got outside, Rosie ripped into you. She called you every name in the book for doing that. When you explained that you were pushing her off, she called you an idiot for even allowing it. You had no response, knowing it was a lost cause.

Officially dating Rosie for the past few months, you learned a lot, especially the type of girlfriend she was. She’s more affectionate, tender, soft when it’s just you or with her closest friends. She does a lot for you without even realizing you need help. She acts indifferent to the public about things, but tells you how she feels and what she thinks in private. She shows you in more ways than one just how much she loves you.

But she’s still the same too.

She still argues with you over anything and everything. She mouths off whenever she doesn’t get her way (you give in anyways). She relentlessly teases you any chance she gets.

She’s also very possessive of you. She hates when any girls glance your way. She especially despises any of your past flings (except Jennie) as they boldly ask you to hook up with her right there. She can’t stand it when you say she’s jealous because she’s not. But her use of mine is repeated multiple times as she fucks you to remind you who you belonged to, like you could forget.

She’s still the biggest pain in your ass, but you love her anyway.

You open your room door, surprised to see Rosie already changed for bed. She’s adorable dressed in your clothes, the size just a tad too big on her body. You quietly close the door, ignoring her movements as you grab clothes from the dresser.

When you join her in bed, sliding under the covers, you lay on your side, staring at her scroll through her phone.

“Chaeng,” You pout as she continues scrolling. “Come on, you know I didn’t do anything.”

“Why’d you let her sit on your lap then?” Rosie says sarcastically.

“I didn’t. She just sat there,” You reason, rolling your eyes at her pettiness.

“Cause you just keep your lap available for anyone to sit on?”

“Jesus christ, you know I don’t. You’re acting like a brat,” You huff, rolling onto your back.

“I’m acting like a brat?” Rosie raises her voice, her phone tossed on the nightstand. She hovers over you, eyes narrowing, “I’m not the one letting girls openly sit on my lap when I’m clearly in a relationship.”

“Believe me, everyone knows that I am,” You glare, deciding right then and there you’re going to taunt her. “Not my fault my dick’s just that good they miss me.”

“You’re fucking unbelievable,” Rosie scoffs, “It’s not even that good.”

“What do you have to compare it to? You’ve only slept with me and clearly aren’t going after anyone else’s dick,” It’s a low blow, but she’s starting to piss you off.

In a flurry of movements, Rosie swings her leg over you, cupping your chin rather aggressively before whispering, “Did you want me to? I’m sure there’s still a line of guys dying to get inside of me.”

Your temper flares, hands gripping her waist before flipping her over.

Now if Rosie’s possessive of you, naturally you’re possessive of her. Probably worse.

You find your hands underneath your shirt, and she shivers at your touch.

“Is that a no?” Rosie moans when you pinch her nipples.

You remove your hands, reaching for the hem of your shirt before throwing it somewhere off to the side. You rip the shirt off her body before slotting yourself in between her legs, pressing most of your weight on top of her.

“I guess I have to ask,” You start peppering her jaw with kisses, “Do you want to be disappointed?”

Rosie moans as you gently suck on her sweet spot, smirking against her skin as her hips roll against your crotch. Your cock twitches, but you don’t let your control slip that easily.

“How-how would I be disappointed?” Rosie tilts her head back, granting you more access as you continue leaving marks along her neck.

“You’d be comparing them to me,” You thrust against her, just so she could feel what she’s doing to you.

“Doubtful,” Rosie’s hand slips underneath your waistband, taking hold of your cock as she strokes you.

“I know you would,” You whisper against her ear, “You wouldn’t cum, I know that for sure.”

“What makes you so confident?” Her grip tightens, a groan falling from your lips.

“Maybe cause you’re mine,” You nip at her ear, grounding your hips against hers. Her legs wrap around your waist, an all too familiar move that has you rutting into her, mimicking exactly what you were going to do to her.

“Yours?”

“Mine,” You tear the shirt over her head, whimpering at her hand leaving you. You tug her shorts down to see her bare pussy, wet and glistening under the low light of your room. You salivate, but tuck those thoughts away for later because you need to get inside her more than anything right now.

“Better remind me,” Rosie sighs, breath stuttering, as she stares at the obvious bulge in between her legs. “I could probably walk outside and someone would wanna fuck me.”

Your control snaps, shoving your sweats to free your cock. You miss the gasp falling from her lips, but you hone in as you aim your cock at her entrance.

“Absolutely not,” You snap your hips forward, giving her no time to adjust to the ruthless pace you set on her body. “Only I could do this.”

You spread her legs wider, watching her eyes roll back. Her hips meet every thrust, taking you just like she knows how to. Her long drawn out moans quickly turn into high pitched screams that ring in your ears.

“Baby,” Rosie brings one hand in between her legs, furiously rubbing her clit as her walls clamp onto your length. “You fuck me so—fuck.”

Your earlier irritation bleeds away, suddenly feeling the need to make sure Rosie doesn’t forget exactly who makes her feel this good.

You fill her to the hilt, groaning into the crook of her neck as her pussy contracts around your cock.

“Baby,” Rosie pants, chest heaving against yours as she tries to move. Your hips have her pinned against the bed, so it’s futile as she writhes underneath you. “Don’t stop, please.” She breathes out, her hand still moving in between you, creating a delicious friction.

You want her to beg, but with the way she’s squeezing your cock like her life depended on it has you giving in

“Tell me.”

“Yours-please, please,” Rosie shakes her head, the pressure in between her legs growing.

“Mine?” You draw your hips back, leaving the head of your cock in.

“Fuck, yours,” Rosie screams when you slam into her body, hooking her legs over your shoulders as you resume fucking her with everything you’ve got.

You’re usually not this rough, but a more primal, baser, need takes over. She yelled at you for something that was completely out of your control. Could you have handled it differently? Sure, but she could have handled it differently too.

You’ve spent enough time with Rosie to know she acts like this to rile you up. You honestly have no problem putting her in her place, especially if it’s in between her legs.

Rosie’s orgasm rips through her body, back arching suddenly as her hands hold you close. Her nails dig into your skin, nails scratching down your back, which you know will leave marks.

“Again,” You command, fucking her thoroughly as her pussy spasms around your cock.

Rosie’s mouth opens, but no sound comes out as her lips form a perfect ‘O’ before a gush of wetness drenches you.

You pull out quickly, deciding that she doesn’t get to feel you cum inside her—at least right now. It takes you no more than four pumps of your cock before you explode over her body. You aim in between her lower lips, making a bigger mess of her as your mind shuts off.

You’re both gasping for air, but your eyes fixate on the rise and fall of Rosie’s chest. Moving on impulse alone, you lower yourself, peppering her chest with your lips. One hand lazily drapes over your neck, scratching softly as quiet moans leave her body.

“Okay,” Rosie mumbles after a couple minutes, gently tugging you off. “You made your point. I don’t want anyone else to fuck me.”

“Good,” You roll off of her, but quickly pull her body into yours.

“No one else can fuck you either,” Rosie musters out as threatening as possible. It falls short because she’s still trying to catch her breath, exhausted.

“I know,” You kiss her temple. “Only want you anyways.”

“Good,” She snuggles into your side, slotting a leg in between yours.

You offer to clean up, but she pulls you tighter, telling you five more minutes. You chuckle, knowing her body well enough that she’s going to pass out.

“Love you,” You murmur, lips on her skin again because you couldn’t get enough of her.

“I love you,” Rosie sighs dreamily.

You hear light snores after a minute, eyes rolling fondly. You sink into the embrace, closing your eyes as well.

You’ll clean later, content with the woman in your arms, who will—if you had to bet—want to go again.

#blackpink smut #blackpink rose #blackpink park chaeyoung #rosie smut #park chaeyoung smut #park chaeyoung

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gojonanami · 7 months

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DESSERT BEFORE DINNER ☆ SATORU GOJO

☆ summary: satoru can't wait to have you until you get back from the sister school event, so he convinces you to have "dessert" before dinner. ☆ cw: 18+ only, smut, semi-exhibitionism, bathroom sex, fingering( afab!receiving), oral (afab!receiving), jealousy , god complex gojo, reader is a follow sorcerer at jujutsu tech. ☆ wc: 1,230

“Satoru, we can’t-“ your sentence is cut off as he slips another finger into your dripping cunt.

“Your pussy seems to disagree,” and his lips curl upwards, satisfied with his work, your messy cunt was weeping all over his fingers, “you’re practically sucking me in,” he groans at the nasty wet sounds his fingers made as they slid in and out, “do you want my dick that badly, sweetheart?”

“Satoru,” you whine, as his fingers drag down your walls teasing you open, as more of your cum drips down his fingers and onto his wrist. He leans over and licks it off, “we don’t have time for you to get in all your teasing,” you’re looking at the locked door to the bathroom, hearing the faint footsteps of people walking by, “someone could find us,”

It didn’t help that you were in the middle of a dinner event for after the sister school event, where Satoru had plied you with sweet words and wandering touches, away into a not nearly remote enough bathroom.

But the strongest sorcerer looks far too unconcerned, with his shit eating grin, as he slips his fingers from you, leaving you empty only for a moment, “thank you for the meal,” he smiles cheekily, before his mouth is lapping at your lips, and he’s not bothering to be gentle or quiet, messily slurping at your pussy and clit, “you’re practically gushing,” he remarks, and you can feel his smirk against your skin, “not that I’m complaining,” he presses one last kiss to your puffy clit.

“Satoru,” you’re whining now, as he does his belt, buckle clacking as he does, making you lean against the sink, his hands spreading you for him to look at, “hurry up and-“

And he slips into you in one movement, splitting you open, as you barely stop yourself from your head hitting the mirror, instinctively covering your mouth to hold back your moans — but Satoru isn’t having any of that.

He pins your hands with one hand, stopping his movements, “Not having you hold back your beautiful sounds now, can I baby? I want to hear just how good I’m making you feel,” he’s kissing your neck, as he rolls his hips into harshly, making your walls tighten around him, “gotta make sure all those men out there that were ogling you know who you belong to,”

“Is this all because you’re jealous?” You almost laugh, but he rolls his hips into you again, ripping a moan from your mouth.

“Don’t act like you didn’t want this,” he grunts, his thrusts nearly pistoning in and out of you, “walking around in this sundress that shows enough but nothing at all, you knew what it did to me, and you wanted to end up here under me,” and he’s pulling out to flip you around so you can see yourself in the bathroom mirror, “look at you, so pliant under my touch,”

And then you hear voices outside the bathroom trying to turn the knob, and he slows for a moment, hearing men’s laughter, he starts to roll his hips, “Fuck-“ you yelp, as he seems to fuck you impossibly harder, “Satoru,” you hiss.

“Let them hear how good I fuck my baby,” he grins in the mirror, and it makes you grow tighter, and it doesn’t escape his notice, “fuck, you trying to keep this dick inside you, sweetheart? I know it’s good, but I’ll fuck you anytime, you don’t have to keep it,” and you moan his name, “that’s it, keep fucking moaning my name, make them wish that they can see you like this,” and he’s cupping your chin, forcing you to see yourself fucked out, his dick going in and out of you, all spread out, mouth partially open, “maybe I’ll fuck you out there, let them see what they can never have, eat you out as my dinner course and dessert,”

“Satoru,” you groan, as his hand slips down to your neck, squeezing lightly, as your pleasure begins to climb, the thought of people hearing you slipping further and further away, “more, please,”

He laughs, almost melodically, “and my innocent girl wants more? After asking me to stop,” and he hums in mock contemplation, “maybe we should stop,” and he starts to slow just as you’re starting to approach your peak, “go back to the party,”

“T-toru, please,” and he’s pulling out, teasing you with his tip, letting his pre-cum drag and mix against with your cum, “please I need you,”

“Do you?” He kisses your neck, his teeth grazing against your pulse, “you can get any of those men out there to please you, can't you?”

And you’re shaking your head, “No I need you, just you, no one would compare,” you’re almost blathering, until he captures your lips again.

“Tell me you’re mine,” and he’s almost slipping into you again, his tip parting your sloppy folds, as you gasp.

“I’m yours, just yours, please I need you, Satoru—“ you’re nearly begging, pleading for him to fuck you, and you moan as he thrusts you again, splitting you open as he does, “Satoru, my god,”

“You don’t have to call me god, baby, just Satoru is fine,” and you can’t even roll your eyes, too lost in the pleasure he’s giving you.

“Close - ‘m close,” you manage, before he’s catching your lips in a sloppy kiss, his fingers slipping down to your clit, “fuck—“

“Come for me baby, I need you to scream my name,” and you do as he says, coming hard and fast, slick around his dick only makes him fuck you harder through your orgasm, “come on my perfect girl I need one more from you,”

“‘Toru,” you don’t get a break as your orgasm just starts to build into another, as his balls slap against you, as he sinks into you deeper and deeper.

“Fuck, can’t wait to cum in this cunt, made me for me and only me,” he’s groaning, “can’t wait to walk out of this bathroom, you dripping with my cum inside you, sticky and wet, and fucked out, gonna fuck it inside you again in the car ride home, and then have you suck out the rest of my cock,” his hips begin to stutter as you crest once again, about to cum, “gonna cum baby,”

And you do as he does, fucking you through his orgasm, beginning to slow. He lingers inside you as you two come down from your high, and soon he’s kissing you, your lips, your neck, your collarbone, “My good fucking girl,” he purrs, as he eases out of you, and he groans, watching his cum slip out of you as it does, fucked out, his dick covered in your slick.

You’re not used to the emptiness before his fingers begin collecting his cum and pushing it back inside you, “Toru,” you whine, as he slips two fingers in with ease, and he’s grinning.

“Just a moment sweetheart, just got to make sure it stays in there,” and he slips out just as he pulls your underwear back into place, and he’s helping to clean you up, pressing a kiss to your thigh, as you look down at him, leaning your back against the sink now, a dangerous glint in his eyes, “I have to make good on that promise, now don’t I?”

☆ a/n: so this just emerged from my mind after watching the first few episodes of season 2 and starting to read the manga. gojo would absolutely love to do something like this. though he def prefers having you in private :)

#satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru #jjk smut #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #satoru gojo fanfiction #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #sab [mlist]

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sixosix · 8 months

Text

roommate!lyney annoying you, fluff, kissing, profanity lol!!! feminine french pet name used once (1), implied secret relationship. written in like 30 mins not proofread

“lyney, who the fuck ate my takeout?!”

that’s a stupid question; there’s only the two of you in this dorm room. exasperated, you throw yourself back on the couch, grieving your lost takeout that is most likely sitting in your boyfriend's stomach. lyney pops out of his bedroom with a cute smile and guilt hidden in closed eyes. he walks to you in slow steps, hands hidden behind his back.

you watch him with narrowed, suspicious eyes.

“ma chérie,” lyney purrs, and you hope there’s enough venom in your glare to take him down, “do you want a magic trick?”

you stare blankly. you do not want a magic trick.

lyney makes an undignified noise, flopping himself on top of you and the one-seat couch; you barely manage to get your laptop out of the way before he crushes it. “come on, entertain me. you have been giving your laptop more attention. do you want a magic trick or not?”

“if it’s about my food, i’m about to make you disappear.”

lyney fans his face as he turns, whistling. “you’ve done it again. you’re so charming when you glare so heatedly at me like that,” he coos, pressing his nose on your cheek and smiling against your skin.

you groan, pushing his face with your palm. “are you a freak?”

“if calling me that is what it takes for you to realize i just want you to look at me,” he agrees solemnly, muffled by you smothering his lips.

“i know i’m your roommate and everything, but you have a twin. do you have to bother me? aren’t you all for ‘family is everything’ and all that? how will they react if they see their lyney clinging onto his roommate like a lovesick parasite?”

“lynette doesn’t even like talking. and i like looking at you,” lyney says, nearing a whine. he persists in slotting himself between the couch armrest and your body, arms wrapped around your waist. it doesn’t budge when you tug on it.

“you can look at me without bothering me.”

lyney blinks owlishly. “oh?”

“entertain yourself,” you snarl, shifting so your back faces him. he buries his nose on the back of your neck, humming thoughtfully.

he then he kisses where your skin is bare, sighing softly. “i’m sorry. i wanted to take you out tonight.”

“dumbass,” you say, adding more to your essay with hostility in your fingers. “how are we going to enjoy dinner if you’re already full?”

“i can enjoy dinner if i see you enjoy dinner.” he sounds so serious about it, too. “hey, look at me for a sec. there’s something on your face.”

instinctively, you turn your head, startled when lyney takes it as an opportunity to kiss the side of your lips. “hey—” he interrupts you with a kiss on the other side. “lyney, you—” and then he seals the deal by kissing you properly.

it’s a little uncomfortable with the angle, but that’s far in the back of your mind with the press of his lips and the warmth he’s emanating. lyney’s a personified heater; it does help that he loves touching you in any way he can whenever you get too cold.

you have to pull away yourself, gasping deep breaths. lyney looks extremely pleased with himself. “you eat my takeout and try to distract me from my essay—do you want me to request a new roommate?”

but as you return to your laptop, you realize it’s gone. the pillow you’ve used to place it on top of is notably empty. you check the corners and peer at what you can with lyney’s arms caging you, but it’s not anywhere either.

“what? where the hell did you put it?”

“let me treat you dinner, and maybe i’ll tell you after our date,” lyney sing-songs, expertly swerving from your attack with a bright laugh. “come on, up you go.”

lyney doesn’t stop until he gets what he wants; it’s the wisest decision to give in as soon as possible anyway.

a/n hello guys this is like a practice round bc i have a longfic for lyney in the works !!!!!!!! but this is kinda lame so idk HELPP

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyney x y/n

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thebearer · 9 months

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follow me |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: the bear needs a social media rebrand. sydney hired you, and carmen gets more than just followers after meeting you.

an: bad descript i'm sorry lol. basically you're a social media manager and carmen likes you lol or how you and carmen meet <3 also thinking this will be a part 1???? lmk if you want a part 2!!!

contains: reader is a social media manager. language. carmen denying himself happiness ofc. mentions of mikey. fluff, fluff, fluff!!!

“What the hell is this?” Sydney’s voice raised, brow raised even higher to heighten her suspicions. Maybe her disgust.

After Carmen looked at the snarl on her face, he decided it was definitely disgust.

“What?” Carmen shrugged, looking at the screen in front of him. “It’s the, uh, The Beef’s old Instagram.”

“Right.” Sydney said slowly, blinking at Carmen obviously. “The Beef, and we are not that anymore. We are The Bear.” She scrolled for a moment. “They also haven’t posted since twenty-twenty, which is-”

“-Well, Mikey ran it, alright?” Carmen huffed, glaring at Sydney with annoyance. “I just found the fuckin’ password on a fucking gum wrapper in a folder labeled ‘important shit’ so I don’t know what to tell you.”

Sydney nodded slowly, looking back at the phone, before sighing deeply. “I know what you should do.” She said, typing on her phone. Carmen grunted, still looking at the piles of order forms for produce in front of him. “You need a social media manager, because Carm, this? It's not gonna work.”

“Social media what?” Carmen’s brows creased, shaking his head. “I don’t- no, I don’t need to do that. I’ll just, I’ll get Gary or fuckin’ Sweeps or Fak to run-”

“No, no, Carmen, seriously? Look at this. There’s- oh my God- there’s a thing here that says bring your own plate and you’ll get a free drink, Carmen… What the fuck?” Sydney sighed, shaking her head at him.

Carmen nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I-I’m thinking that was a, uh, a Mikey special.” He muttered, pinching his eyes shut. “I can’t afford to hire someone on the payroll for that long, ok? Not when I could hire another hostess or-or a runner.”

“They only come in to revamp and get it started. Just a little kick start for now. To get us started.” Sydney explained, clicking on her screen. “Look, I have a mutual friend with this girl who’s really fuckin’ good, ok? She did Lobo’s that pizza place? Got them from two hundred to eighteen thousand followers in like two or three months.”

Carmen’s eyes flashed, looking at Sydney with a raised brow. “Seriously? Fuck…” Carmen looked at the screen, the crisp photos, videos, fun and trendy- vibrant and alluring. He hated to admit it, but it was good.

“Look, Carm, it’s free advertising, ok? You catch the influencers if it goes viral. Could really put this place out there.” Sydney countered. “It’d be a lot cheaper than paying for some shitty advertisement on the news that no one watches anyways. Could bring in a lot of business and attention.”

Carmen’s fingers drummed against the counter, sighing sharply. “Fine, whatever, see if you can get her in and just… Just tell me how much I need to put aside, alright? I’ll push the new glasses until then.”

Sydney smiled triumphantly, nodding at Carmen. “Yes, Chef.” She saluted, walking out of the office.

Three days later, you were standing outside of The Bear, newly opened, freshly renovated, and steady but not booming. “Uh, excuse me?” You waved through the window at the man in the beanie, looking at you carefully.

“Hey, we’re closed until dinner, alright? But you can-”

“Oh, no. I, uh, I’m not here for eating.” You cringed, shaking your head. “I’m looking for Sydney? Or Carmen? I’m the new social media person?”

“Social media?” The man repeated, pushing the door open further. “Oh, shit! You’re the girl who does the, uh, Lobo and Avec!”

“Yeah, I am.” You blushed, walking into the restaurant.

“I love watching those reels of the asmr cutting the bread. Ugh, I watch it every night before going to bed.” The guy laughed, locking the door behind you. “Oh, I’m Marcus by the way.”

You took his extended hand, introducing yourself, while you took in the fixtures on the wall, the art, the overall ambiance. “I am going to get Carmen, but you can stay right here if you want.” Marcus grinned, pushing the sliding doors open.

You set your things down, pulling out your notebook, and looking around the restaurant. You knew that this was once The Beef, Sydney had sent you a few things about Carmen’s credentials and you looked up the rest. Impressed was an understatement, a guy your age that had ran the best restaurant in the world? Quite possibly was the best chef in the world or at least Chicago and needed your help? You were nervous, to say the least.

Marcus called your name, making you jump slightly as you turned around. “Uh, so this is Carmen. He’s the owner, the head chef.”

“Hi,” You were met with piercing blue eyes, hidden under a stray blonde lock of hair. Carmen’s hand reached for yours. “Nice to meet you. Sydney, uh, she couldn’t stop tellin’ me about your work. Thank you for helpin’ us out.”

“No, no, thank you.” You reached for his hand, strong, a little rough, trying not to stare at his inked fingers. “It’s a pleasure to work with you. She told me a little about you, about the restaurant. It’s very impressive. Surprised you needed me.” You grinned.

Carmen bit back a smile, looking down to hide his blush. Fuck, Sydney said you were good at your job, she failed to mention that you were so fuckin’ pretty too. Carmen could feel his heart fluttering in his chest, taking flight like he was a middle schooler again with a school yard crush.

“So, if you have time, I want to go over some goals with you?” You say, gripping your notebook tightly.

“Goals. Right, uh,” Carmen looked through the back doors. “Sydney is on her break, and-and my sister, Sugar- well, her name is Natalie, she’s like our manager. Richie too, uh, shit- I’m sorry that’s a lot of people, I know.” Carmen shook his head, an anxious laugh pealing out from his lips. “Those are the people you need to talk to, basically. I can grab them, just-”

“-But you’re the owner, right?” You asked, lifting a brow gently.

“No, I mean, yeah, I am.” Carmen stuttered.

“Then I need to talk to you, too.” You gave him a small smile. “I mean, you know this place better than anyone, right? All the ins and outs? And from what Sydney told me, you redid this entire place. Right?”

“Yeah, I did.” Carmen nodded. Fuck, he kept staring at your lips, he didn’t mean to, he was just… he was distracted.

“So, we can all meet if you want, or I can do it one at a time.” You pulled your pen out of your notebook, looking at him with a gentle smile. It had Carmen’s heart racing. “I just have a few questions about the vision.”

“The vision?” Carmen repeated, swallowing around the growing lump in his throat.

“Yeah, the vision.” You smiled. “Just… tell me about this place. Tell me about you.” You slid into the chair across from him.

Carmen wiped his hands on his pants, turning to look at the doors, hoping someone would come to his rescue. He wasn’t good at talking, especially not to pretty girls, especially about himself. Still, he couldn’t leave you sitting there. He’d hired you after all, and you were here to help him. So he sat down across from you, hoping you didn’t see the way his knee bounced under the table, hoping you couldn’t hear how his heart pounded.

“So, Carmen Berzatto,” You grinned, every syllable of his name rolling off your tongue so sweetly, Carmen was sure he was going to faint. “Tell me about The Bear. Why did you start it?”

“Well, it was The Beef before. And-And my parents owned it, then my brother Mikey did…” Carmen started, watching the way you scribbled, eyes flickering to him with a small smile.

“Hello!” You called, pushing through the back door. They’d given you the code a week ago, so you didn’t have to wait or pound on the front door until someone took mercy and let you in. “It’s content day!” You sang, cheery and bright.

Carmen could hear the pretty trill of your voice, trickling down the hall and into the kitchen. Tina smirked, watching the way he stopped, turning to look at you, blush rising under his white shirt. “Hey, Jeff,” Tina smirked, his head snapping to her. “Your girl’s here.”

The staff had been teasing Carmen relentlessly about how smitten he was with you. Something he’d been so reluctant to do, he now looked forward to. Carmen swore it was because of your work. You had taken them from the measly six hundred followers they’d had since they started the account in twenty-eleven to six thousand, strategic posts and tags and tagging a few buzz accounts that were Chicago foodies. Business had gone up, reservations filling slowly. Followers poured in from TikTok, from the reels, from the posts. One tag from a micro Chicago influencer had brought in a good chunk and was still, all because of a photo with the pretty light features and the dessert.

“Where’s the Bear?” You grinned, passing Sydney, camera in hand, bag slung over your shoulder. You pushed open Carmen’s office, dropping your bag in there. He’d told you that you could keep your things in there, since you didn’t have a locker, of course- and not at all because that meant he’d see you before you left.

“He’s in here, baby!” Tina called, smirking at Carmen.

“C’mon,” Carmen shook his head, a deep breath to keep him from looking so flushed. It worked for a moment, of course, until you rounded the corner. All bright smiles and fuck, you smelled so good. Camren wanted to drown himself in your perfume. “Good morning, Bear.” You beamed.

Carmen grinned, cheeks heating with every step you took forward. “Mornin’.” He muttered, looking at the clock.

“It’s content day.” You grinned, shaking your camera lightly. “Tell me you got something good for me, Chef. What's the special this week?”

“A lamb tenderloin with a gorgonzola sauce served over pasta- house made, of course.” Carmen answered.

“Of course.” You repeated with a tiny grin. You turned on your camera, taking a test shot, before you looked at Carmen carefully. “Ready whenever you are, Chef.”

Carmen bit back his own grin, clearing his throat lightly. “How do I start it? The same as last time?”

“Yep.” You nodded, pressing the camera to your eyes. “Tell me your name, name of the restaurant, and then just this week's special.”

“On your mark.” Carmen nodded, picking up his clean utensil.

“On yours.” You laughed. “I’m already recording.”

Carmen spoke to the camera easily, trying to stay trained on the lens and not at you. How you’d grin and nod encouragingly at him, zooming in closer as he chopped, seasoned, pulled the already prepared and finished product out of the oven.

Richie crossed his arms, leaning against the wall next to Sugar, lips pursed knowingly. “I know you’re thinkin’ the same shit as me.”

Sugar hummed. “That Carmen’s into her?”

“Way fuckin’ into her.” Richie grinned, watching as Carmen blushed, grinning back at you, genuine and a little shy at your compliment.

“Fifty bucks says he doesn’t make a move.” Sugar looked at Richie.

Richie snorted, scoffing with a shake of his head. “Alright. I’ll take your bet. I say he does.”

“Get ready to be out of fifty dollars, Cousin.” Sugar said smugly. “This is Carmy we’re talking about. Not Mikey. Carmen’s not gonna make a move on her.”

“Eh, not so quick, my dear, Natalie. Carmen’s changed a little since this place.” Since the horrendous freezer incident with Claire. “He really likes her too, look at ‘em.” Richie nodded, watching as Carmen held the spoon out for you, blushing when your hand touched his to take it, groaning before smothering him in compliments. Tina looked at Richie, amused and grinning from across the room.

“Carmen will seal the deal. It’ll be last fuckin’ minute and it will be a mess, because it’s fuckin’ Carmen, but… I believe in him.” Richie nodded.

Natalie snorted. “I genuinely hope you’re right, Cousin.” She looked at Carmen with a small smile, watching the way he looked at you, eyes cutting like he was being so cool about keeping his feelings underwraps. “I really do.”

That night, Carmen lied in bed, scrolling through his footage from the day, seeing the video pop up from @/thebearchicago. Set to classical music, snobby and dramatic, the cuts, Carmen’s voice laid over describing the meal for the week, and a particularly good close up of his hands cutting the onions fiercely. Carmen was shocked to see the number of likes… the number of comments flooding in.

“the cameraman knew exactly what they were doing lmao”

“New necklace available!!!”

“I will give you my vital organs and let you chop them up like that if you let me watch chef please”

“What the fuck?” Carmen snorted lightly, shaking his head, scrolling through the comments. He clicked to the main page of the restaurant, seeing you were just a few away from ten thousand followers. Fuck… Sydney was fucking right. You were good.

Carmen’s face fell, mind racing and screaming with the reminder that you were only there for a few more days. He’d only hired your for two months- two glorious fucking months. You seemed… permanent now. Like he couldn’t imagine you not coming in on Tuesdays and Thursdays and after three on Fridays. You were a staple there. The staff loved you, you were good, and-

And Carmen really liked you. Liked having you around. Looked forward to talking to you. To get the chance to lean over your shoulder as an excuse to touch you when you showed him a preview of a post. Or when you’d send him cute text messages, a funny comment attached, your text reading: “you’re a hit, bear! they love you!”

It was like you could read his mind, your contact flashing across the screen at him.

To: Carmen

‘told you this would be a good one! the fans love you berzatto!!!’

Carmen grinned, the faint twinge of a blush on his face. He could feel his heart racing, fingers dancing over the keyboard, and worst of all- he could hear Mikey’s fucking voice in the back of his head. A nagging tone repeating over and over and over, “Let it rip, Bear! Don’t be such a pussy! Ask her out!”

Carmen looked at his screen, fingers typing out the message, a short, less than smooth invite to make you a special thank you dinner and his place- a date. He hoped you picked up on it. Heat hammering in his chest, he could feel his chest tighten, ribs knitting together uncomfortably, stomach twisting in the worst way.

So, Carmen did what he always did.

From: Carmen

‘Never doubted you. Thank you. The video was great.’

He watched as the blue sent, the delivered turning into seen, and followed by your thumbs up over the text. Carmen put his phone on the table, lying back on his pillow, but he couldn’t sleep. His stomach still turned, unsettled with regret.

“Oh! Marcus stop!” You gasped, Carmen’s head turning at the sound of your voice. “You didn’t need to do all of this!”

“Yeah, I did.” Marcus beamed. Carmen turned the corner, seeing a beautifully piped cake there, candles and icing cursive that read “thank you!” in the middle of the buttercream. “You’re cool and you got us on the map, girl. Plus, we’re gonna miss you.”

“Yeah,” Sydney nodded, holding a small balloon that said that exact phrase on it. “We will miss you.”

“I’ll miss you guys.” You grinned, hugging them both tightly. “This has been my favorite job so far. You guys have been so nice. Way nicer than a lot of these assholes around here.” You grinned.

Richie stood on the wall, foot tapping, eyes darting back from you to Carmen. He could see his cousin’s stuttering movements, hesitant and careful, before retreating back into himself. C’mon, Carm, fuckin’ do it, Richie thought, shaking his head. Carmen wouldn’t though, wouldn’t let himself be happy. Richie took a deep breath, head shaking with annoyance.

“Goddammit, Berzatto,” Richie muttered, pushing off the wall. “You know, sweetheart, it’s been so great having you. Seriously, you blew us all away.” Richie said, walking towards you.

You smiled. “Thanks, Richie. I really appreciate it.”

“And you know what, we want to really show how much we appreciate you.” Richie’s eyes cut to Natalie, a silent plea to help him out. “I had a cancellation for this evening, and I would love for you to come instead. Let us really cook for you, give you the whole experience. No bill, of course. All on the house, for you, my dear.”

“Oh, I-I couldn’t let you guys do that.” You shook your head politely, eyes cutting to Carmen’s.

“No-No, please.” Carmen nodded, finally speaking. Richie sighed silently in relief. “It would be great actually. Please?”

You felt your heart melt, nodding softly. Before you could even reply, Richie was stepping up again. “And you know what? You gotta do one last post for us, right? The big chef spotlight one. The, uh, c’mon, Sydney what am I lookin’ for here?”

“Oh, the one about the staff spotlights?” Sydney asked.

“That’s the one. See, that’s it. And you’ve done everyone except the big boss.” Richie pointed at Carmen, ignoring the way the younger man’s face fell.

“I didn’t get one-” Fak started, Richie shoving him out of the way.

“You gotta end with Carmy, and it's funny because it’s gonna be real slow tonight anyways. Wednesday, ya know? And I think what better way to experience the night, really craft that staff spotlight thing, than with Carmen. The two of you, have dinner and get to talk.” Richie knew it was rocky, not at all smooth, but it was the best he could do.

“What? Cousin, what are you-”

“-No, you’re right, Richie.” Sugar added, stepping towards Carmen, and cutting him off. “And Carm, you were saying you wanted to see everything in action for yourself. You do the customer experience so you make sure everything’s good, and we’ll serve you both dinner. All the stops.”

“How’s that sound?” Richie clapped his hands together, nodding at Tina, who grinned.

“Jeff, it would be really nice to make sure we can work without your instructions. A good night for it too.” Tina added.

“Yeah, and Sydney’s got it.” Richie nudged the girl beside him.

“Totally, Carm- uh, Chef. I’ve got it.” Sydney nodded, catching on to Richie’s glare at her.

Carmen felt like he could melt into the floor, face red and palms sweaty. His ears were ringing, tongue swelled thick in his mouth. You looked over at him with a small smile. “I mean, that does sound really nice. If-If it’s ok with you guys, you don’t have to-”

“-Oh no,” Richie shook his head, walking over to Carmen to clap him on the shoulders. “We insist, don’t we, cousin?” Richie laughed, leaning down to Carmen. “Don’t fuckin’ stand there like a jagoff, say somethin’.” He whispered.

“Yeah.” Carmen said, swallowing thickly around the lump in his throat. “It’s, uh, yeah. That-That sounds great.”

“Wonderful.” Richie beamed. “Six o’clock sounds good for you kids? Give you enough time to get it together.” Richie looked from you to Carmen. “Maybe for some of us to take a shower.”

Carmen could feel the heat rise from his neck to his cheeks, covering him in a furious blush. You giggled. “Definitely gives me time to get a blow out.” You laugh. “See you at six then?”

“It’s a date.” Natalie added, practically bouncing on her toes behind Carmen.

Carmen glared at her, before turning back to you. “Yeah, I-I’ll see you then.”

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