‘ TOLD YOU I LIKED GENTLE GIANTS SO YOU SOFTENED UP . ‘
— in which frat! sukuna realizes he’s totally whipped for his shy! gf 🥹
“i told you, i have to go to the library today.” you say sternly, looking at yourself in the mirror as you curl your hair. sukuna’s wide hands laying dormant against your hips, crimson eyes following your every move in the mirror. he grumbles, hips grinding against your ass. “why you always leaving me? y’hate me?” he murmurs, kissing your neck. “you’re so annoying.” you whisper lowly, somewhat cowering into yourself. even though you and sukuna have been dating for almost four months, you still shy away at his advances. “you’re always shufflin’ away from me. stay still.” he grins, bringing your hips back against him. your face heats up as you put your head down, putting away all your hair products. “‘m still annoying?” he chuckles, manually rolling your hips against him. “always.” you meek out, pushing your glasses up.
you gently pull away, turning around to face your boyfriend. you press a calm kiss to his cheek, a manicured hand resting on his pecs. “i’ll see you later?” you assure, head tilting to the side. his eyelids flutter, his grip on your hips tightening just a smidge, as if it was a silent plea for you to stay. “yea-fuck- yeah. i’ll see you later.” he almost whines out. he follows closely behind you as you put your shoes and coat on by the door. he gives you five one more “see you later” kiss before sending you on your way. he watches from the frosted window as you get in your car and drive off, pulling off his snapback and pushing his hair back with a groan.
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jabber doesn’t even try to pretend he wants a “nice” girlfriend because he figured out real quick that nice isn’t what keeps his attention.
nice would’ve apologized to that cashier, smiled a little, or maybe even laughed it off. you didn’t do any of that and somehow that was exactly what had him standing there fighting a grin.
the line was dragging at the register, the cashier stumbling over his words, dropping coins, and starting sentences he couldn’t finish. jabber was already halfway tuned out, just waiting for the bag so he could leave, but you shifted next to him and that’s what pulled his focus back.
your nails tapped once against the counter, your weight settling into your hip, and your brows lifted just slightly as you watched the whole thing unfold like you were already bored of it before it even finished happening.
“can you just give me the receipt,” you said, tone flat and just done waiting.
the cashier nodded fast while apologizing under his breath and trying to move quicker. you exhaled through your nose as you looked off to the side like the situation wasn’t even worth your energy.
jabber should’ve stepped in and smoothed it over but instead he found himself watching you more than anything else, noticing the way you didn’t fidget or perform patience for anyone’s comfort.
the second the bag hit the counter, you let jabber grab it and turned like the moment was already over in your head.
“why he acting like that,” you muttered as soon as you were walking away, not bothering to lower your voice.
jabber let out a quiet laugh and fell into step beside you while shaking his head, already used to the way you moved through the world without censoring yourself for it.
“you don’t be giving people no patience,” he said, still amused.
“they need to act normal then,” you replied, already pulling your phone out to check yourself in the reflection, fixing your gloss like nothing had just happened.
that was the part that got him because you didn’t soften it afterward or think twice about it. you just said what you meant and kept moving like it was simple fact.
jabber glanced at you with a grin he couldn’t really hide. “you mean as hell.”
you looked at him like that was obvious information. “then leave me alone.”
“can’t do that,” he said easily while catching your wrist before you could walk ahead of him and pulling you back just enough to keep you close without making a scene. “i like it.”
you sucked your teeth but didn’t pull away, letting him guide you forward like it wasn’t even a discussion.
most people only see the attitude, the eye rolls, the quick “move” when he’s in your space, or the “shut up” when he’s talking too much but jabber pays attention to everything that slips in between those moments.
like how your hand finds his in a crowd without you thinking about it or how you’ll stop mid step, look him over, and fix something on him like it’s your responsibility without ever announcing it.
“why you got this on like that,” you muttered one time, already straightening his collar while he stood there letting you do it. “stand still.”
“it was fine,” he said, even though he didn’t move at all.
“it wasn’t,” you replied while smoothing it down properly before stepping back to look at him again. “there.”
no compliment came with it but he understood it anyway because you didn’t miss things when it came to him.
and he learned quickly that you expected the same attention back, even if you never said it gently.
the first time he noticed something off in your appearance and didn’t fix it, you caught him looking before he could decide what to do.
“what,” you said, already suspicious and raising your arched brow.
“nothing,” he answered, thinking he could leave it alone.
“fix it,” you told him immediately, like it was obvious that was the only correct option.
now he doesn’t hesitate when it comes to you, because his hands are already in your hair whenever he notices something out of place, careful while you stand there acting like you’re annoyed about it even when you’re not moving away.
“hold still,” he murmurs.
“i am still,” you snap back automatically even though you lean into his touch just slightly like your body disagrees with your mouth.
and he notices every time.
same way he notices how you’ll be on the phone, voice sharp and irritated, arguing with somebody like you’ve got all the time in the world to be upset, pacing a little as you talk through it.
“because that’s not what i said,” you’re saying, clearly annoyed now.
jabber is sitting nearby watching you and when you pass him mid sentence, you don’t even pause, you just lean down and press a quick kiss to his lips.
“…no, listen to me,” you continue, already walking away like nothing happened.
jabber just laughs quietly under his breath, shaking his head because that’s your version of affection. it’s quick and unannounced like it barely exists, even though it lands every time.
even when you’re in a mood, when your tone is sharp and your patience is gone, you still don’t actually push him away in the way your words suggest.
“get out my face,” you mutter, barely looking at him.
jabber steps closer anyway as his hands settle at your waist like he already knows better than to take that seriously.
you don’t move his hands, not even a little, and instead you shift just enough to stay comfortable while still pretending you don’t want him there.
“why you always under me?” you complain.
“because you like me right here,” he answers like it’s already decided.
you roll your eyes but your fingers hook into his shirt for a second before you let go, like your actions answered faster than your pride did.
jabber notices all of it, the attitude and everything underneath it, the way you’ll talk to him crazy but still fix him, still reach for him, still let him touch you like that space belongs to him no matter what.
like today, the air is still thick with sex and humidity while your bodies pressed together on the couch.
jabber’s weight is a comfortable anchor as his softening cock still nestled inside you as you trace idle patterns on the damp skin of his back, your own heartbeat slowing to a steady thump.
then three sharp knocks bang on the door.
“the hell?” he mutters, voice gravelly with tiredness.
bzzzzzzz.
someone is leaning on the damn doorbell now as a relentless buzz slices through the post sex haze like a razor.
“fuck,” you breathe, the word all annoyance.
jabber is already moving, pulling out of you with a wet sound that makes you clench involuntarily. the sudden emptiness is a shock as a cool draft hits your clenching hole.
he’s off the couch in one fluid motion, grabbing his boxers from the floor and stepping into them. “don’t move,” he says but it’s not a command, it’s a plea from knowing how upset you got last time you were interrupted.
so you don’t. you lie there, naked and exposed, listening as the knocking continues. the buzzer stops, replaced by a voice. “jabber? you in there, man? your car’s outside.”
you know that voice. his cousin. the one who never calls first.
a hot anger blooms in your chest, right beside the aching need that hasn’t fully subsided. you were right there….and now this?
jabber is pulling his jeans up while zipping them. he doesn’t bother with a shirt. he shoots you a look of apology and annoyance in his dark eyes. “two minutes,” he mouths.
you just stare back, your expression flat. he better make this two minutes.
he runs a hand over his locs, takes a deep breath to compose his face, and heads for the door. you slide off the couch, your legs wobbly as you find your leggings and shirt in a heap by the wall. the cotton of your shirt feels abrasive against your tender nipples and the leggings like a constraint.
you’re dressed in seconds but it feels uncomfortable. your skin is still flushed, your core still throbbing with a low pulse, and you can feel the evidence of him trickling down your inner thigh.
you hear the door open and muffled voices. his cousin’s loud laughing and jabber’s lower replies. something about a car part, about leaving a tool here yesterday.
you lean against the wall just inside the living room, arms crossed, and listening. every second is sandpaper on your nerves as your earlier satisfaction has curdled into hunger.
you hear jabber trying to wrap it up. “yeah, i got it, i’ll look. i’ll hit you later.”
“you good, man? you sound out of breath.” his cousin’s voice is tinged with stupid curiosity.
you close your eyes while exhaling slowly through your nose.
JUST LEAVE.
“i’m good. just… busy. i’ll call you.” jabber’s tone has a finality to it.
finally, the sound of the door closing then his footsteps coming back down the hall. he appears in the doorway, shirtless, and his jeans slung low on his hips. his expression is a mix of irritation and relief. “cousin,” he says, as if that explains everything.
you don’t say anything, you just push off the wall and walk toward him. he watches you approach in silence as his eyes follow you. “he’s gone. sorry about that, ma.”
you stop right in front of him, so close you can feel the heat radiating from his skin, smell the sex and sweat on him. you look up at him with a steady gaze.
“i don’t care,” you say, your voice now low and sultry. “that shit woke me up.”
a flicker of confusion crosses his face. “woke you up?”
you don’t explain as your hands come up, and you shove at his chest, not hard enough to move him, but enough to make your point. “you didn’t finish.”
his confusion melts into understanding, then into a slow smile. “i thought i did.”
“you didn’t.” your palms flatten against his chest, feeling the beat of his heart under your touch. “you got me all… started. then you stopped.” you lean in, your lips almost brushing his. “i’m still started, boo.”
he groans, a rough sound in his throat as his hands come up to cradle your face but you catch his wrists, stopping him.
“no,” you say, the word a soft crack. you release his wrists and take a step back, your eyes raking over him. “that shit at the door pissed me off. now i’m pissed off and i’m wet. and it’s your fault.”
his smile vanishes as it’s replaced by a look of hunger. this is literally what he craves, your dominance being directed towards him.
“so fix it,” you tell him, your tone leaving no room for argument.
“how?” he asks, though he already knows.
you reach for the button of his jeans, popping it open as you drag the zipper down and you don’t break eye contact. “you take all my… annoyance…” you push his jeans and boxers down over his hips in one rough motion, freeing his cock, which is already hard again, “…and you fuck it out of me.”
“right here?” his voice is gravel.
“duh,” you turn while bracing your hands against the wall next to the doorway. you don’t look back, you just push your leggings and panties down to your knees, presenting yourself to him. the cool air kisses your exposed skin, a contrast to the heat pooling between your legs. you’re still slick from before, swollen and aching. “and don’t take your time.”
you hear his sharp intake of breath then his hands are gripping the backs of your thighs, spreading you wider. he aligns himself, the broad head of his cock nudging against your hole as he thrusts into you in one long stroke.
a moan is ripped from your throat that is part pain and part relief. he fills you completely and stretches you to an edge. the force of it slams your chest against the wall as it knocks the air from your lungs.
“that what you want?” he growls into your ear, his body against your back, and his hands now digging into your hips. he doesn’t wait for an answer as he pulls back and thrusts in again, just as deep.
“mmm…y-yes,” you hiss, the words mangled.
he sets a punishing rhythm from the first moment, each thrust a jolt that travels from your core to your teeth as the wall is cool against your cheek and forearms.
his grip on your hips is iron, holding you in place so you can’t move, can’t do anything but take it, and that’s the point. you wanted the annoyance fucked out of you and he is just following your orders.
“you feel that?” he grunts, his pace relentless. “that’s for being so damn mean.”
you sob out a laugh that turns into a moan as he angles deeper, hitting a spot that makes your vision flash white. “i’m not–ah!–mean,” you gasp. “i’m just….right.”
he slams into you harder, a wordless rebuttal. the sounds are obscene— the wet slap of skin, his ragged breaths, and your choked off cries. you feel your own wetness coating him, dripping down your thighs, and making every thrust smoother.
one of his hands leaves your hip and slides around your front, down over your trembling belly. he goes lower, his fingers plunging into the wet friction where your bodies join, finding your clit in seconds.
you jolt, a full body seizure. “fuckkkk!”
he presses the pad of his thumb right on that swollen bud while applying a circular pressure that’s synchronized with his thrusts.
it’s too much. it’s everything.
your orgasm crashes into you without warning, back arching as much as his hold allows, and your hole clamping down on his cock in a milking pulse. you cry out a continuous sound that echoes off the hallway walls, your square frenchies scraping against the paint.
he grunts as his rhythm stutters as you convulse around him. “that’s it,” he rasps, his own control fraying. “take it. take all of it.”
he fucks you through your orgasm, chasing his own release with a guttural groan as he buries himself to the hilt and holds there. he stays buried inside you, his forehead pressed between your shoulder blades, and his body trembling with the aftershocks.
slowly, he pulls out as the sticky evidence of both of you starts to slide down your inner thigh. you’re boneless, held up only by your arms braced against the wall and the solid presence of him behind you.
his hands come up, smoothing over your back, a gesture that’s almost tender compared to the fucking. he helps you straighten, pulling your leggings back up with a surprising gentleness before attending to himself.
you turn around while leaning back against the wall. your legs feel like water as you reach out to hook a finger in the waistband of his jeans and pull him closer until he’s standing between your legs.
his forehead rests against yours, giving you a gentle kiss. his hands are on your waist, thumbs brushing slow circles against the thin cotton of your shirt.
“mean as hell,” he whispers with a smile in his voice.
you hum as you push him back gently, just a step as his hands fall from your waist. you look at him, your gaze traveling from his eyes down his chest, to where his jeans are still undone, hanging low on his hips.
“move,” you say, your voice soft but clear.
he doesn’t question it as he steps back, giving you space. you walk past him, your legs still feeling a little unsteady, as you go back into the living room. to the couch where this all started, where his cousin’s interruption stole the lazy aftermath.
you turn and look at him, standing in the doorway, watching you. you don’t say anything as you pull down your leggings and sit down on the couch and lean back. you spread your legs slightly as you look at him and you wait.
he understands as he walks toward you in slow movements. he stops in front of you while looking down at your open legs, eyeing the mixture of cum flowing out of your clenching hole.
“you want something?” he asks, though he knows.
“take your pants off,” you tell him.
his smile widens as pushes his jeans and boxers down over his hips, letting them fall to the floor. he’s naked, his cock already half hard again as he sits on the couch.
“you like it when i’m mean?” you ask, your voice low.
“i love it when you’re mean,” he corrects with wanting eyes.
you move to straddle his lap as you settle onto him slowly, your knees sinking into the cushions on either side of his hips. he watches you as his hands come up to rest on your hips, letting you lead.
“i’m gonna ride you,” you murmur, the words a promise against his mouth.
he exhales as his hands tighten on your hips but he doesn’t pull you down. he waits as you shift your weight, one hand moving down his chest until you find his cock. it’s fully hard as you guide it, positioning him to your entrance. then, with a deliberate roll of your hips you sink onto him.
you take him inside you inch by inch, feeling every vein, and every throb of his cock as he stretches you. you go slow at first, settling onto him completely, letting your body adjust. you feel him shudder beneath you, his fingers digging into your hips now.
you look down at him, your face just above his. his eyes are closed and his jaw tight. he’s savoring the feeling of you taking him, of being enveloped by your slick.
“open your eyes,” you command.
he does. his gaze is hazy as it fixes on yours.
“watch me,” you say.
and then you start to move as you rise up, slowly, dragging your slick along the length of his cock. then you sink back down with a firm pressure. your hands brace on his shoulders, your thighs working to lift and lower you.
“that’s it, pa” you breathe out while watching his face. you see the pleasure take over as his mouth slightly opens, letting out small moans. you pick up the pace as the rhythm becomes faster. your hips roll as you sink down, grinding against him at the bottom of each stroke, ensuring he’s buried as deep as possible.
you lean forward, your chest brushing against his, and your lips finding his ear. “you feel how deep you are?” you whisper, your voice rough with lust.
“mmmhh...” he groans, a wordless affirmation, as his hands slide up your back and under your shirt.
you sit back up to change the angle. you rise all the way to his tip then plunge back down with a force that makes the couch creak and his body jerk. using his body for your own pleasure, to make him feel every bit of your dominance.
his hands move from your back to your ass, gripping you, helping you now, driving you down onto him with more force each time you sink. he’s meeting your pace, thrusting up into you as you come down.
“fuck,” you gasp, the word ripped from you. your fingers start to work on your clit, the pressure perfect, just enough to tip you over the edge.
he’s watching your face, seeing the orgasm approach. “come on,” he grunts, his voice strained. “take it. take it from me.”
your body locks as your inner muscles clamp around his cock in a tight grip. you cry out a sharp sound as your head falls back in pleasure. you keep moving through it, your hips still working, grinding against him as the aftershocks ripple through you. he’s groaning beneath you, his own orgasm coming. you feel him swell inside you as his thrusts become wild.
with a final, deep thrust, he holds you there as his body trembles. you feel the hot rush of his cum, filling you from the inside. for a long minute, you just stay there, collapsed against him, his cock still inside you, both of you breathing in ragged gasps. your forehead rests against his shoulder and his hands are stroking your back, slow and soothing.
eventually, you lift yourself off him, feeling the cool air replace the heat as you separate. you sink back onto the couch beside him, your body spent, and your mind quiet.
you reach over, your hand finding his as you intertwine your fingers. “you got what you wanted?” he asks softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.
“of course i did.” you reply, your voice hoarse but satisfied.
he leans in, kissing your shoulder, as a he lets out a soft chuckle. “yea, you always do.”
I’m legit so tired of bitches complaining about black!reader. Tfym all black!reader does is party, smoke, and strip? So many fics of black!reader being a scholar, a bimbo, ex-wife, wifey, wifey to girlfriend, girlfriend to ex girlfriend, tutor, needing a tutor, a baker- i mean the list goes on AND THESE ARE ALL FICS THAT HAVE RECENTLY BEEN RELEASED! Mind you these types of fics have also been released on black!reader tumblr for YEARS! I’ve been on this account for a few years now and black!reader is never just some random ignorant, ass shaking bitch. Even when shaking ass, all of these girlies put in so much work to give her personality, a backstory, and emotions. Not only have I seen one black fic writer write a range of black!reader, I’ve seen MULTIPLE black writers on here write a range of black!reader. It’s not just a matter of you not finding the right account, it’s a matter of you just ignoring the damn fics and not looking for them. DONT GET ME STARTED ON THE FUCKING SINNERS FICS BECAUSE HAVE YOU SEEN WHAT BLACK WRITERS HAVE DONE FOR BLACK!READER WITH SMOKE AND STACK?! Yea stop playing these girlies like that aint put hella time, energy, and thought into these fucking works that they do FOR FREE! Even if they want to only write black!reader as “ghetto” and as someone who shakes ass THEY HAVE EVERY FUCKING RIGHT TO DO WHAT THEY FUCK THEY WANT! If you want something different WRITE IT YOUR FUCKING SELF! Everyone does this shit for FREE and for the damn love of the game. Black women can’t even create in peace without random bitches getting on their ass? Can Black women please just be left the fuck alone ESPECIALLY by their OWN FUCKING PEOPLE?! Damn yall pmo.
To every Black fic writer out there that’s creating for us to enjoy, please continue unapologetically. Please let black!reader shake ass, get degrees, get married, have kids, get divorced. I’ve seen too many black writers leave this platform and deal with constant harassment and negativity. I love you and all of us who are enjoying yout content loves you too!
sypnosis: you are a new, up-and-coming reporter at the Daily Planet; clark kent, the nerdy smallville man quickly becomes your office crush and (un)official work husband who is infatuated with everything you do. w.c. 4.6k
content warning: reporter!clark kent x black!reader (mention of protective hair styles), height difference, best friends jimmy and lois, mix of superman 2025 and maws depiction (aka nerdy, well-intentioned clark) tooth-rotting fluff, slow burn, mutual pining, flirting & eventual kissing
authors note: this is my first attempt at writing for dc ahhh! this fic is very black cat girlfriend x golden retriever boyfriend. a love letter to all my fellow black readers.
Clark Kent's office crush was painstakingly obvious to everyone within a ten mile radius of the Daily Planet.
All of your coworkers pick up on the little signs — the way Clark is so attentive to you, the way his eyes follow you around the office, even the way he hovers around your desk to do miniscule tasks like refill your coffee like a lovesick intern. Or an overzealous puppy.
Everyone knows, except for the most important person. You.
You were recently offered an offical reporting job at the Daily Planet after moving to the big city of Metropolisis to create a name for yourself.
You were sharp, calculated and organized both out in the field and in the office. You would usually be the first to clock in the morning and the last one to clock out, always with the confidence and compsure that seemed to radiate from you.
Clark and you were polar opposites, graviating to each other like a moth to a flame.
And the office loved you. You pride yourself in the high standard that you kept yourself, truly believing that a good manifestation on the outside contributed to your mood — especially on long nights spent hunched over your keyboard.
You would come into the office with a new look almost every week — freshly mancured nails, a new bag or purse and a different hairstyle that framed your face perfectly.
You sauntered into the office this week with long braids dropping down your back, adorned with gold hair jewerly and slick edges. The jewels caught the early morning light filtering through the dusty office windows, framing you in a golden halo as you greeted your coworkers.
You brought sun and light into the room, lifting up spirits of a long work Monday. Cat switched her hips over to you with a pleased smile, patting your waist as she passed. "Beautiful as always, love."
You tap her hip with your own and smile warmly. "Thanks Cat." However, you seem distracted, cutting quick glances around the cubicles.
Lingering on one desk in particular.
A snort breaks you out of your pondering. Jimmy pushes over to you in his swivel chair with a knowing look. "Clark isn't here yet, as always. The guy just has to be late."
"I... wasn't looking for him," you mumble. Lois is standing beside your desk under the televison, watching the newscast of a breaking story.
She shakes your head at your clear lie. You slide in place beside her, eyes flickering up to the screen.
She's chewing absentmidely on the tip of her pencil, watching the streak of blue and red on the screen with a sharp percision in her light-blue eyes.
"Another train derailment?" you question. There were two last week and now one today — your brain already firing on an investigative lead into Metropolis old subway lines.
She hums. On the screen, strong arms push back the train before it crashes onto its side. A red cape billows to the side, revealing the man everyone's been talking about for the past couple months since his debut. Superman.
His face is blurry in the footage, but you catch the kind tilt of his smile and crinkle of his eyes as he helps passagers out the train with a delicate touch that betrays his strength.
He was the obvious news lead — but no one could seem to get an interview with him. Except for one curly-haired member of the office, making first page whenever Superman saved yet another life.
Your brain drifts off as you watch the solid frame fly off in a blur, avoiding the camera pointed at him for questioning. So elusive.
However, you were more focused on the passagers of the train as one lady, a mother of three, said she didn't know how she was going to cover her late shift in time.
Those stories interested you — not so much the talk of the town, the reporters dream study.
Metropolis old subway lines… maybe you could contact your lead in the local government to inquire where the funds are going for new construction…
"Get back to work in there! We have deadlines, people." Perry's voice booms from his office, causing you and all the other journalists to scatter to their desks.
Commotion from the elevator makes you pause from tidying up your desk. A familar large figure sporting messy dark curls easily comes into view— towering many of the other staff members.
You hear him mumble out an apology as he almost crashes into someone, weaving through the office to get to his chair.
Clark stumbles a bit as he meets your eye. A warm smile curls his lips as he takes you in, looking more like a deer in headlights than a six-foot-two man.
"Golly…" you hear Clark say clear as day, still staring at you as if in a trance. His framed eyes flicker across your apperance. That crooked, heart fluttering smile spreading on his lips makes your heart jump traitorously.
You blink. “Golly?” you say incredulously, wondering if you heard him right. “Did you just say… golly?”
Clark immediately stutters out a response, breaking eye contact as his ears flush pink. He pushes up his lopsided glasses on his nose as he sits down at his desk. "I—I meant to say… you look good. Great! You look great. As always."
You feel a laugh bubble in the back of your throat. Clark was always like this —your polar opposite. A bit of a fumbling mess, but well-intentioned. You both balance each other out and despite yourself, you always look forward to his late entrances.
“You said that last week, too. That’s all you got, Smallville?” your mouth quirks in a smirk at his flustered state. The flush spreads down his neck at the nickname you fondly call him.
Jimmy whisles from his desk, putting a call on mute to laugh out "Get to work, lovebirds. Perry's really gonna fire you one day, buddy."
That makes you both flush, turning away from each other to get to work and ignore the unsaid thing simmering between you two.
Today is different. Today is not one of your good days.
You briskly exit out the elevator and scurry to your cubicle, hoping no one realizes your late entrance.
Of course, your coworkers do.
“You’re fifteen minutes late!” Jimmy saids with evident shock on his face, popping his head up from his cubicle to look at you.
“Fifteen more minutes later than Clark, might I add. Which is like, a record.” Lois chims in helpfully from the coffee machine, tapping her watch. “What’s kept you?"
Her blue eyes wisfully watch as you cross across the tile towards your desk. Taking in your haggard appearance — clothes wrinkled, bags under your eyes, no jewerly dangling from your ears or outwardly casting your shine into the room.
You look uncharastically dull, as if a real raincloud was hovering over you since you entered the Daily Planet.
You grumble under your breath as you scan the office for your boss. Hoping and praying to the gods above that Perry doesn’t catch you coming in this late. You never come in late, and you didn't want your perfect track record to be tarnished — or to be chewed out by him with everyone watching.
"Thanks for the observation, guys.” you hiss, out of breath but thankfully seeing no Perry.
As you approach your desk you see a familiar mess of black curls from the cubicle across from you. Clark is so large that you can easily make out his broad shoulders from across the room.
You feel some of the anxiety roll off your back at the sight of him— something about his mere presence made you feel secure. Safe. Protected.
“Morning Clark.” you sigh, sliding into your office chair and starting to quickly unpack your materials.
“Morning.” Clark sweetly says back, that little lopsided smile on his face as he turns in his chair to see you. It quickly falters as he takes in haggard apperance.
“Long morning?” he says softly and you hear the scrape of his office chair as you groan loudly. “You could say that again. My microwave and oven broke this morning and my stupid landlord won’t come to fix it. Says it’s a user error—“
You don’t realize your ranting at this point, putting down your items with more force than needed as you yank open your laptop. “And on top of that my cat decided to scratch up my brand new couch to shreds last night—!”
Failing your arms in the air, you hear a soft grunt behind you. A solid block of muscle, similar to a concrete wall, collides into your elbow.
“Oh god— Clark I'm so sorry!” Your eyes widened as you yank your hands down. Clark just smiles kindly down at you. He was leaning on the wall of your cupicle with a cup of coffee in his hand, silently listening to your worries.
“It’s okay. Here.” he slid the coffee to your desk and you take a sip — of course just how you like it. Your stomach did a funny little flip at the taste.
You curl your hands around the cup and hide a smile against the rim, letting the warmth ground you for a second. "Thanks Clark. You're so sweet to me."
You hear him clear his throat at that, spying a soft blush rising above his collar.
There was a beat of silence as he lingered at your desk, shuffling his feet. You watched him fix the crooked black frames on his face before glancing down at you with those cerulean blue eyes.
"You know.." he hesitantly mumbles, “I… I could come help you with all that after work, if you want.”
You look up at him with wide eyes —a small hush goes through the newsroom as the coworkers around you turn to do the same.
Lois gives you a knowing look as her heels click past to the break room. Jimmy is smirking into his mug off to the side of you, lips jutting out in a funny purse.
“I-I mean! Y'know it just seems like a lot of work and… and you look stressed.” Clark fumbles, neck and cheeks further heating up under everyone’s stare. His Kansas accent comes out when he gets embarrassed — low and warm like honey in your throat.
His voice drops to something softer as he meets your stunned eyes, “I’m stronger than I look. Farm boy remember? Let me help you?”
And how could you say no to your deceptively cute coworker, bascially pleading to assist you?
Your face breaks into a bashful smile.“I would appreciate that a lot. Wait for me after the evening debrief?”
His smile is radiant as he beams down at you. Like it was molded by the sun itself. “Of course. I’ll let you get to it then… and don’t worry about Perry. You’ve covered for me plenty, if he asks I’ll just say you went on a run for me.”
A saint. Clark Kent is a saint — you're personal angel. You thank the heavens a thousand times over and try not to dewell on the fact that your office crush is coming over to your apartment in the next few hours.
You burrow into your thick jacket with a shiver on the steps of the Daily Planet. It's nearing the end of fall, which means the nights are becoming more brisk and chillier.
A familiar ginger man and dark-haired woman exit the building towards you. You wave before stuffing your hand back into your pocket, wishing you brought gloves.
You watch as Jimmy slips Lois a ten dollar bill — trying to be descrete, but failing when his large nylon coat makes noise. You blink between them, raising your eyebrows in disbelief. "Did you two bet on me?!"
Lois shrugs. "Not on you, on Clark." She pats your shoulder affectionately before hopping in a taxi. "I'll see you tomorrow. Have fun!"
You whip your head to glare at Jimmy. He gives you a toothy grin before stuffing his hands in his pockets. "In our defense the whole office is in on it. I bet he wouldn't have the guts to ask you out by the end of the month."
Jimmy winks at you, "I'm glad I was wrong though. Clark's a great guy. See ya'."
You shake your head and bite back a smile as he retreats away down the street. Although he left, your friends words linger in your head. You might have feelings for Clark, but it was hard to tell if he felt the same way.
His farmboy upbringing taught him manners that he carried wherever he went. He was polite and kind to everyone. What if he was just… being nice by offering to help you fix up your apartment? Playing the role of a concerned coworker?
The metallic taste of blood wets your tounge. Snapping out of your daze, you realize with a start that you've been chewing on your lip. Your watch reads way past the meeting time. Clark should've came out after Jimmy and Lois.
Frowning, you go to rifle through your bag to give him a call. A dull pang shoots through you — did he stand you up? Or did he forget entierly?
However before you can dial him, a sudden gust of wind pushes you almost clear off the steps. Yelping in surprise you fumble with your phone — and try to catch yourself before meeting an untimely demise in the front of your workplace.
A firm arm presses against the small of your back, saving you from your tumble. You blink up in disarray to meet familiar blue eyes.
Clark.
He looks equally as frazzled, panting as if he just ran a lap downtown. You both stand almost chest-to-chest on the steps, his warm hand keeping you from falling backwards onto the cobblestone.
His glasses are completely skewed on his face as if he had just shoved them on, face flushed a light pink at the proximity. And his curls look devastatingly soft this close up…
You realize your staring — and haven't moved — a little too late. Quickly you detach from him with a hoarse laugh. "Clark! There you are. I've been waiting here for the past couple mintues…"
He cleares his throat, looking up at the sky before back at you with an apologetic face. "I didn't mean to be late. Perry, um… Perry had to pull me aside to talk about my next article."
That seemed very unlikely, as your boss hated people in his office past hours. Or during hours, to be exact. But he did look genuinely apologetic — and so you let it go with a nod. You don't point out his wind-ruffled clothes or hard breathing.
You tell him that your apartment isn't close to the building and that you would need to take the train. Clark quickly refuses, bringing up the derailment earlier today before calling a cab on his own expense.
The ride is quiet, save for the festive singing on the radio although it's still a bit early for Christmas carols. Clark is so large that he's practically bent in his seat, trying his best to shrink and give you more space in the tight cab.
You try to ignore the feeling of his body heat radiating from his hunched form. Or the way his eyes look over to you before darting to watch the streets wizz past out the window.
Your knee brushes against his — neither of you pull away.
Soon you both are dropped off at the front of your complex.
"Excuse me if I'm about to sound rude…" Clark slowly says, his neck on a swivel as you enter your apartment complex. "But you live.. here? Crimes really high around this place."
You sigh as you make your way up the stairs. You know you don't live in the glamorous parts of the city. You live farther on Metropolis edge, where rent is cheaper and crime is higher. "I'm well aware. It was the only place I could find in a pinch when I first moved here."
And it's in my price range… you thought silently. It wasn't a secret that a journalist salary wasn't high, but you knew that before leaving your hometown for the busling city. It wasn't ideal to live out here, sure, but it was your chance to make a name for yourself.
You fiddle with the key before pushing open the door to your apartment. "Welcome in," you say a bit shyly, showing him where to hang his coat.
Nerves suddenly bubble in your throat — this was the first time you've had someone over. Usually, you opted to spend time at other — nicer — apartments in the better parts of the city. You felt a bit exposed as Clark turned to walk further into the living room.
Warm string lights hung around the room, casting the space in a warm glow. It was cozy — it was clear you did the most you could to make the small space welcoming. The couch looked worn but soft, with a tv and coffee table full of notebooks and scribbled pads of paper.
"I like what you've done with the place. It's… homey." Clark says earnestly, his voice betraying something almost… intimate, that soft drawl that has you squirming. He looks at the framed photos lining the wall, stopping in front of a gold-rimmed frame.
Your first atticle at the Daily Planet is framed in the walkway. He smiles at the sight of it — it isn't front page, but clearly meant a lot to you. Your first published article at your dream job.
A meow from under the couch makes you chuckle. You coo at the furry shape underneath the cusions, two large eyes staring up at Clark wairily. "She's not use to guests, but she's harmless."
Clark slowly steps closer and spies the scratch marks along the foot of the couch. "Well, maybe not completely harmless." you grumble, before crossing to clear off the coffee table.
Acutely aware of his large side, Clark stands a respectable distance from the couch and your cat, instead glancing down at your notes curiously.
There was a lot of research — articles on local law and governemnt, contacts, all potential stories. But one thing was missing in your collection: a distinct figure that was head of all major news outlets.
"I've always wondered. Why don't you want to get a interview with him?" Clark asks hesitantly. His shaky voice betrays his nerves, as if worried your answer would be some hateful spew about the superhero in red.
You laugh and pick up one of the notes littering your coffee table. "It's not that I don't want to. Everyone wants a piece of Superman. Landing a interview with him is like, immediate front-page quality."
You look up and arch an eyebrow at Clark. "Which I'm sure you know well."
Your voice is teasing but he still looks away from you, embarrassed as he swallows dryly. His hands push up his dress shirt past his forearms, and you're momentarily distracted by the appreciatve size of them.
When you continue, your voice is softer. "I just… want to focus on the smaller voices too, you know? Local issues in Metropolis. Like the train this morning that sets hundreds of hard-workers late for their jobs, or LexCorp possibly embellishing money from local businesses—“
Clark visibly tenses up then at the mention of the multi-billion dollar company. Your reporter brain immediately wants to latch onto it, and you open your mouth to speak, but he quickly steers the conversation back before you get the chance.
"What I meant by my question is that not a lot of people care about that stuff. I think it's really important, and honest. You… you're someting special."
He doesn't stumble over his words when he says it. When you look into his blue eyes you see a warmth similar to the one he levels with you in the office.
Your heart stutters at his soft voice. Suddenly, your very aware of how close you two are in your small living room. How quiet everything is. That thing again — something unsaid, swelling tenfold at his words.
You laugh to clear the tension, defalting back to your teasing remarks in a dire attempt to hide the flush you feel searing your bones. "I don't know how I should take that, coming from Superman's number one fan."
Clark makes an indignant noise in the back of his throat. "I-I am not!"
"Mhm, sure. And you also didn't get three interviews with him last month. My toolbox is in the closet to the left."
You busy yourself with cleaning up your apartment as Clark fixes your applicances. You hear humming from Clark in the kitchen — some punk rock, upbeat song that makes you smile secretly to yourself.
He returns thirty mintues later with a satified smile. "Fixed," he says proudly.
"That fast?" you say in surprise, but sure enough, the microwave is back on and so is the oven.
You whisle low. "Wow Smallville. You're pretty useful. I might just have to keep you around."
Clark smiles bashfully at that. A silence stretches between you two. He hovers at the edge of your kitchen, leaning slightly on the frame. The way he looks at you… that soft, silent look that has your stomach tying itself in knots.
He then clears his throat, glancing at his watch with a sigh. "I… better go now. Early work day tomorrow." His laugh tries to be light, airy, but it sounds almost regretful.
You feel yourself deflate slightly. Your hands wring at the decorate towel on the oven, eyes flickering from him to the door.
It was late. And it was definitely indecent for him to stay. But… but…
Before he can reach for his bag you quickly stop him. "Why don't you stay for dinner?" Your voice cracks on the last work and you cringe inwardly. So much for smooth.
But the chance, this chance, a rare moment of having Clark Kent — bumbling, kind, sweet, strong Clark who you've silently been obsessed with all these months — all to yourself. You would be damned to let it slip from your fingers this easily.
His blue eyes met yours and you hope you don't mistake the spark of joy in them. A grin stretches across his face at your words, shoulders slumping as if he let out a breath he was holding all night.
"That would be amazing!" Clark says earnestly and your grin mirrors his own, letting out your own tense breath.
You swing open your fridge door — but upon closer inspection you quickly realize you might have gave the invitaiton too soon. The only thing sitting on the shelves was a loaf of bread, half a carton of eggs and some bacon.
Laughing awkwardly, you glance back at him with an apologetic grin. "I meant to go grocery shopping after work…"
Clark eases into your space to look over your shoulder. You gulp, feeling his sturdy back brush against your shoulder. The sheer size of him was almost comical, casting a shadow over you.
His breath, warm against your ear, hummed out a casual "I can work with this."
He reaches around you with ease, grabbing the ingredients and going to stand in front of the stove. You blink owishly at him.
"Breakfast?" you question.
"For dinner." he completes, throwing a boyish grin over his shoulder. "It's my favorite thing to make after a long day."
The laughter that bubbles out from you is light and infectious. You take his prior place, leaning against the frame of your kitchen. "As long as it's edible." you tease. You watch his shoulders shake in mirth.
You then slide into place beside him, popping toast into the toaster as Clark whisks the eggs. Something about the routine feels oodly domestic — the way your bodies naturally weave around each other in the kitchen, grabbing cups and setting down plates.
And you can't ignore the way your hands brush against each other… but don't quickly pull away. When he reaches above you for seasonings at your request and his shoulder bumps yours. Or when he steps around you and your hips touch.
Every little fleeting touch sends lighting strikes through you, hope blossoming in your chest at every smile he gives you, every chuckle you pull from his lips.
You steal a glance at Clark whisking the eggs. He looks relaxed, with his sleeves pulled up on strong forearms. His eyes are concentrated down towards the metallic bowl, glasses slipping down his nose as turns to toss them in the sizzling pan.
He catches your eye and tilts his head. "What's on your mind? You've been quiet." he mumbles across the space to you, looking sideways at you while adding in the bacon.
You shake your head with a soft laugh, re-focusing back on the hot tea you were brewing. "Just wondering how you're so good at everything. Cooking, fixing up around the house. You're like, the perfect man. Everyone in the office thinks it."
Clark chuckles at that — but his breath catches too. He pulls his lips between his teeth, eyes darting from you and back to the pan. The wooden spacula in his grip whines as his fist clenches.
"Is— do you… think that too?" His voice is hesitant and low, rough in a way you haven't heard it before. The heat in it is unmistakable, trembling in his throat.
You freeze over the mugs below you. Clark shifts towards you, food forgotton as his voice carries closer. The air felt spiked, different, charged in only the blink of an eye.
"I…" you hesitate over the words. Two large hands settle on your waist before spinning you around. You gasp out in suprise, hands coming up to press against his chest.
You feel the erratic beat bump bump bump of his heart underneath your fingertips.
"Forgive me… if I'm being too forward." His hand takes yours in his before pressing a sweet kiss to it. Reverent. Soft. Lingering. You want to burn the feeling of his soft lips and delicate touch on you forever.
Clark looks up into your eyes, pupiles dark and blown. You spied the familiar flush on his face, eyebrows furrowed and lashes pulled low.
"This is probably inappropriate for— for the office. But I've always thought you were amazing. Ever since you first came in. You care so much about others. It's… inspiring. You inspire everyone."
His voice cracked in emotion, "and most of all you inspire me."
He took a shuttering breath before his words tumbled from his mouth, "I want to be there— helping you chase every case. Finding leads. Helping you grow both in the office and in your daily life. Even hopefully getting in good graces with your cat—"
You surge forward and press your lips to his. Clark's nervous rambling dies in his throat — his pulse falters. But he quickly adapts. He presses you to the counter with a light groan.
The kiss is searing — his arms lifting you up and onto the counter as you wrap your arms around his neck. "I like you too Clark." you mumble against his lips, breathless as his lips chase your when you pull away. His dimple pokes out in a grin.
He pecks the corners of your mouth, basking in your laughter. "Gods— you don't know how long I've been waiting for this. For you."
You press your forehead against his with a content sigh. You simply breath each other in — that is, until an unpleasent aroma has you jolting up.
Smoke. "The eggs!"
Clark's eyes widen comically and he detaches from you, snatching the forgotton charred lump from your stove. You can't help but giggle at his pout. "It's alright. We can order something in."
"But… for burning the last of my eggs, you'll need to help me get a new couch tomorrow after work," your voice curves in a mischievous lit, eyes sparkling in unmasked joy.
Clark grins at that with a quick peck to your cheek. "Of course. Whatever you want. I'm yours."
@ starrkuma 2025— all rights reserved. please support by reposting / leave a comment !
You ask your girlfriend if she'd still love you if you were a slug.
▪︎586 words, fluff, teasing, a little suggestive, making out, a bit of groping, etc▪︎
She’s sprawled out beneath you, one arm behind her head, the other tracing lazy circles against your thigh. The sheets are kicked down around her waist, skin warm and damp where your nightgown clings to it. The ceiling fan hums above, stirring the faint smell of oil from her hands and the lotion you’d used after your shower.
You say it out of nowhere. “What if I turned into a slug?”
Her brow furrows. “A slug?”
“Mhm.” You shift your weight on her hips, slow, like you’re testing her patience. “Slimy, slow, tragic little thing. Would you still love me?”
She gives a small laugh, one that doesn’t reach her eyes. “That would never happen.”
“But what if I did.” you insist, voice dipping. “Would you still—”
“No,” she cuts in, deadpan. “I’d pour salt on you.”
You blink at her, mouth parted in disbelief. “You’d what?”
Her grin grows sharp, a hint of teeth. “Salt. I'd melt you right down.”
“Oh, well then—fuck you.” You try to slide off her, but she catches your wrist quick, the same hand that had been idle seconds ago. Her grip is warm, solid.
“Hey,” she murmurs, tugging you back until your knee presses into her side again. “I’m joking.”
You don’t look convinced. She leans up, kisses your cheek—just there, where your skin still glows from the bath, and stays close enough that you feel her breath move against your jaw.
Her voice softens, low and amused. “You really think I’d let you crawl away from me? Slug or not.”
You huff, pretending to stay annoyed, but your smile betrays you.
Her hand slides higher, up the back of your thigh to where the nightgown rides. Not rough—just enough to remind you she could keep you here if she wanted.
When you finally meet her eyes, they’ve gone heavy, that slow burn you recognize. The kind that always starts like this—half joke, half threat, all heat.
“You’re so annoying,” you mutter, though your voice has gone softer, caught between irritation and a laugh.
She only hums, that low sound that sits somewhere deep in her chest. Her eyes never leave your face.
Then she pulls you down and kisses you—slow at first, then deeper, hungrier. Her mouth tastes faintly like mint and sleep. You feel the shift in her body, the way she moves to meet you, the way her hand slips under the hem of your nightgown. Warm palms slide over the curve of your ass, fingers flexing like she’s testing the weight of you.
You make a small noise against her mouth when she grinds up, the thin fabric between you doing nothing to dull the heat. She swallows it with another kiss, rougher this time, one that makes your chest ache a little.
“I love you,” she breathes against your lips, the words coming out between a sigh and a murmur.
You pull back just far enough to look at her. Her pupils are blown wide, eyes dark and certain. Your own heartbeat stumbles. “I love you too,” you whisper back.
She smiles. You press your mouth to her throat, feel the jump of her pulse under your tongue. Her hand stays on your ass, the other tracing up your spine until her fingers rest at the base of your neck. You kiss her again, slower this time, and the room goes quiet except for your breathing and the soft creak of the bed beneath you.
The kind of quiet that feels like promise.
The intimacy is open, messy, the kind of kiss that tastes like breath and want. Her tongue drags against yours slow, deliberate, until you forget the joke that started this, forget everything but how close she feels.
Her hands get greedy. One stays low, cupping you through the thin fabric, guiding you down against her; the other drifts up your side, fingers pressing into soft skin like she’s trying to memorize it. You feel her nails catch slightly when she grips, and it makes you gasp against her mouth.
She takes the sound, deepens it. The air between you grows thick. You break just long enough to breathe, foreheads touching, both of you slick with sweat already. Her thumb slides along the inside of your thigh, teasing without meaning to—just restless, needing you closer.
You kiss her again, harder this time. She meets you with a low noise that sounds half like a groan, half like a plea. Her hips shift under you, and you follow the motion before you even think. The nightgown rides up, cool air licking across the back of your thighs.
You pull back, just to look at her—her lips swollen, eyes glassy, hair stuck to her temples. She looks up at you like she might bite or beg; you can’t tell which.
You smile, breathless. “You were gonna pour salt on me, huh?”
She laughs against your jaw, open-mouthed and warm. “Not a chance.”
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it’s your boyfriend’s birthday and he wants nothing more than to spend it in his favorite place: the great outdoors. However, there’s one more gift he can’t wait to unwrap…
modern au, black fem!reader, they’re both professional search and rescuers + athletes, very playful banter, “enemies” to lovers, heavy language, dirty talk, exhibitionism, public / outdoor sex, backshots, squirting, oral sex, riding/reverse cowgirl, switch ace, hair pulling, creampie, lots of praise and a slight bit of degradation, lots of humor too, really sweet moments
wc: 6.0K
can y’all tell that I missed writing? Two fics in a week is nasty business 😭but it’s my beloved’s birthday and the first day of 2026 so I really hope y’all enjoy and this new year is great to all of us! 🫶🏾🩶
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Twin Flames Peak..the quintessential destination of any hiker or kindred outdoorsman, seeking the thrill of nature right in their own backyard. Rivaling that of the Grand Canyon or your average national park, this place was a hidden gem to the locals. Akin to that of a jewel hiding underneath mounds of dirt. Especially the ones who sought adventure on a daily basis…to the ones who risked their lives and toiled with fate at every waking hour. This place was an oasis to escape all of the chaos whilst maintaining that blood pumping adrenaline. Among those, were two people who never seemed to stop chasing that high..whether their legal and work obligations called for it or not. Not to mention the competitive streaks that manifested alongside those desires as well. As in your personal lives, the two of you competed in a series of triathlons and various sports. Including basketball, weightlifting, and you even coached dance on the side for high school students, as well taught at the local studio. Combine those and you had a recipe for quite possibly the most interesting pair you’d ever lay eyes on!
“You are so full of it, you know that? God, it’s like you cannot help yourself!”
“Oh please! And you’re such a sore loser that you can’t accept defeat. Admit it.”
just before the break of dusk..the glowing sunset beaming at the horizon as it prepared to set, the two travelers made their way up to the park’s climbing path. Having reached the summit right on time, they’d be met with the picturesque view that only someone immersed in this lifestyle could appreciate. However, rather than enjoying one of the land’s precious gems, they were busy lunging at each other’s throats!
“I ain’t admitting a damn thing. I beat you and you just can’t take it!”
“I’ll take it when I actually lose, you loudmouthed brat. And yelling doesn’t make you right, it just makes you sound like an idiot.”
an implication that would send an already irate (y/n) into an even bigger frenzy. Make no mistake, the two of you were stamina and endurance personified, but how you had the energy to fight after a seven mile trek to get here, defied the very laws of nature themselves. Ace and (Y/N), dynamic search and rescue duo by day and the world’s most dysfunctional couple by night. You’d scale some of the most rough terrains; both on land and sea to search for others in their time of need but would be ready to murder the other over a game of Tekken! Honestly, to anyone peering in from the outside..the two of you seemed to have no business together. That perhaps your bond was a little toxic and that maybe you shouldn’t be around one another. But for the ones who truly understood you both…it made perfect sense. They wouldn’t find a stronger love than the two of you harbored. It was that unwavering passion that unironically drove you closer. All the banter could never be taken seriously. If anything, it was a defense mechanism in the field to keep from allowing your emotions to cloud your judgment in tough situations. To remind yourselves that you weren’t looking at your partner but an equal. But it wasn’t harmful, abusive or even volatile. It was strangely soothing…to have someone that not only understood your brash nature but embraced it and turned it into a component of your love.
“And you would know a lot about that, wouldn’t you?” By now, your voice has quieted and you were peering off to the side with your arms folded. It was so funny watching you instantaneously shift from sassy to someone who had the incessant urge to be babied. And of course, like clockwork, he’d indulge your desire. “C’mon, I’m just kidding, babe…don’t look like that. Here..” cackling as he reached for your hand and pulled you towards him. Those giant, muscular arms swaddled you as he hugged you from behind..roaming from your shoulder blades down to your waist with that tall frame towering over you. His head rested atop your own before he maneuvered it to adorn you in kisses.
“It doesn’t matter who made it up here first. What’s important…is that I get to spend my birthday camping in one of my favorite places, enjoying the outdoors..with my favorite person and that’s all I could ask for.”
it was then that you’d begin to soften..and more so melt within his grasp. No matter how angry you became at him, it wasn’t a place you could stay at long and you shared his sentiments. “Yeah, I love it out here..” Turning around with a tight clutch on his forearm, (y/n) gazed up into the deep set eyes of your lover and beamed at him with those beautiful features. “And..I guess I love you too.” Breaking into laughter as you sarcastically uttered the words. Resulting in Ace smacking his lips before swaddling you in his grasp and attacking you with tickles. “Yeah, whatever. You’re such a damned brat.” “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Giggling as you attempted to feign off the sensation. But alas, you only found yourself trapped within another deep kiss. This time with your arms roping the back of his neck and his coiling your waist.
“Say it again..this time like you mean it.”
“I love you, Ace.’.love you so much..”
those sweet words flowing to his ears and heart, garnering you a wide smile, one that brought you immense joy. Glaring down at you, his heart would begin to thud rapidly against his chest. It was the same reaction every single time..it was as if you made him lose all control. But he didn’t seem to mind too much, he was just thrilled to be in your presence.
“I love you more, pretty girl..” immediate flutters sprouting throughout your stomach as he utters the words. You’d never grow tired of hearing them.
“Hey…it’s getting late. Why don’t we start heading back up to the camp site and get pitched before it’s too dark..it’s not too far from here. We should be good to keep the van there tonight.”
“D’aww, is someone getting scared of the dark? Poor baby..”
Yet again, you were doing everything in your absolute power to test his patience. But he was used to those antics of yours, and had become far more quick witted and short tempered as a result. Smacking his lips and giving you a side eye.
“I know good and damn well you’re not—if a spider fell out of a tree right now, you’d jump in my arms like a damn Scooby Doo character, knock it off and let’s go.”
“So serious and strict…it’s kinda hot.”
The two of you would continue your ascent uphill towards the campsite, trekking through the countless piles of broken leaves as they crunched beneath your insulated boots. With walking sticks in hand, you’d use them to garner leverage; leaning on them for support to gain your next step. Between the steep, rough terrain and those heavy items on your back, it was a lot. Even for two experienced backpackers such as yourself. However, having to carry large tanks and wear heavy duty fire suits all day has conditioned your bodies to make this feel like light work. (Y/N) brushed the trees as you walked through the assortment of giant shrubbery, admiring their unique qualities and gorgeous structure.
“It’s so beautiful…and peaceful out here. I love it.”
“Isn’t it? Sure as hell beats car horns and traffic all the time.”
“Right? Although, my bed does sound really nice right about now.”
Earning you a snarky chuckle from your man, who’d been harboring a bit of a secret since you’d gotten here. See, this area was not just an oasis away from the grind and hustle of the city…it housed a plethora of hidden passageways and unbeknownst to you, one of the most ethereal treasures that Mother Nature had to offer.
Trekking along for a few more minutes, the two of you would find yourselves entering a cave-like threshold that led down into what sounded like a flowing body of water. You were absentmindedly walking and only halfway looking when you’d hear him respond to your statement.
“Oh yeah? Could laying in bed give you a view like this?” Extending his arm out to the wide open space, you’d finally look upward to catch a glance of one of the most breathtaking views you’ve ever laid eyes on!..
“What the?—oh my goodness…it’s…”
“Pretty cool, yeah? I told you this place was damn near magical.”
“Yeah, no kidding…”
Chuckling to himself, Ace stared as you stood completely awestruck at the sight before you. Behind this rock formation was a barreling waterfall with rushing, glistening waves streaming down into a beautiful river. Akin to something you’d see on a computer screensaver…he’d been raving the entire drive up about how it was imperative that you all make it up here before sunset. Because if you managed to catch it at the correct time, the rays would refract off of the water and create an iridescent effect. It was absolutely stunning to say the least and he’d been wanting nothing more than to share this view and moment with you!
“Come on, let’s get up closer.” Extending his hand, he’d reach over to grab your own and lead you over to the side, where the ravine began. You’d never seen anything like it and now it made perfect sense why you’d always hear him refer to it as his ‘secret treasure.’ He’d make many treks up here on his lonesome but this time, it had a lot more meaning. The two of you would make your way over to an empty spot where you could sit for a few moments and capture the essence of the breathtaking scene. Along with the camping gear, you’d each had a couple of blankets that you could sit on when out fishing or just sunbathing. Although nightfall was vastly approaching, neither of you wanted to pass this chance up so you’d make haste in laying them out and sitting beside one another.
“Now you see why I love this place so much. I’ve been hiking up here since I was a kid but I swear…it never gets old. Now I get to share it with the person who means the most to me.”
Something about those words just sent pangs and flutters throughout your stomach. It wasn’t often that you got to share tender moments like this with one another. Most of your days were filled with calamity and chaos so this definitely a nice change of pace. Some people might find it strange that he’d choose to spend his big day in a place like this when hotels and restaurants were a popular option but that was the thing with Ace. He was unpredictable, unorthodox and always going against the grain. This was his peace and happiness. And well, you’d follow him anywhere as long as you were together.
“You know, I’m really grateful you brought me up here. Not just because it’s freaking gorgeous…but because it means so much to you. Sometimes, it feels like we’re still learning so much about one another, even though we’ve been together for a while. It’s so hard to be happy when you’re dealing with running across dead bodies all day. It can take its toll and I just…I want to see you smile as much as I can. It looks really good on you. So thank you for letting me be by your side and share this experience.”
At that moment, Ace felt as if his heart were going to explode. It wasn’t often that the two of you had the opportunity to share such heartfelt confessions. Hell, you’d always thought of it as too ‘cheesy’ or sentimental. But in you guys’ profession, it made you appreciate the chance to share it even more. Not only that, he too was grateful that he would get to spend his next orbit around the sun with his beautiful lady by his side. He hadn’t expressed it to you just yet but there wasn’t a single doubt in his mind that he wanted to spend the rest of his life doing this with you.
“Of course, babe. I mean…I get to wake up another year older and look at the most amazing, most stunning, prettiest thing this world has to offer. And…I guess the trees and stuff are nice too.” Immediately causing you to fluster in response; a little abashed by his compliments. Reaching over, he’d grasp your hand and intertwine your fingers. “But in all seriousness, you mean everything to me and I couldn’t imagine spending this time any other way and I can’t wait to have so many more with you by my side. I love you, sweetheart.”
Bringing that connected hand up to place a kiss onto the back of it before reaching over to do the same to your lips. Which had formed into a pout as you clutched his face with your opposite palm. “I love you more, baby…”
From then on, it was as if the two of you were magnetically drawn to one another…unable to pull away and like time itself had come to a halt. The only thing that mattered in that moment was one another and the joy you’d shared. Honestly, he found it utterly difficult to want to focus on anything else. Your soft features glowing underneath the dimming sunlight and those gorgeous eyes fixated on him; slowly fluttering shut as he closed in for yet another peck. This time, they were a series of slow, intentional ones…your tongues colliding in a sensual haze as your bodies grew closer. Each of your hands would begin to roam and explore the other’s body. His cupping the back of your neck with a firm grasp and yours planted against his chest. Moaning into one another’s mouths before the moment would intensify and eventually, you’d find yourself tousling onto one singular piece of fabric together. With him somehow ending up on top with your legs coiling his waist. Things had heated up before either of you knew it!
“Ace, babe…wait. Should we really be doing this? I mean, don’t we need to get back to the campsite before it gets dark?” Giggling as you caught a glimpse of his face. Those freckled cheeks were burning tomato red and he had the biggest grin on his face. Something told you he wasn’t all too concerned with that at the moment.
“Nah, we’ll be fine. I think we can spare a few minutes. Besides….do you really want to stop right now?…” knowing just how moody you’d become when you guys’ ‘alone time’ became disrupted. He certainly was in no mood to put a pause on this much needed intermission.
“No, but I mean—“
“Then don’t worry about it, alright? I’ve been out here plenty of times…I know my way around. Just let me take care of you right now.” Leaning back down to give you yet another deep, searing kiss. One that damn near left you breathless.
“And I mean…it is my birthday so we have to do what I want.” Teasing as he continued letting your tongues dance around.
“How’d I know you say some shit like that?—“ finding yourself letting out a loud whimper whilst sucking your teeth before you could complete your response. He’d managed to reach your throat, placing gentle kisses all around your neck and collarbone. Slowly moving down to the chest, where he’d gently lick the tops of those perky breasts before pulling that tank top down and exposing them to the cool elements. Those dark colored nipples were already erect the moment he began touching you.
“God, I love your tits…they’re so perfect. Hell, every part of you is perfect…so fucking sexy.”
Squeezing and caressing each one as he took those buds into his mouth; lapping on them like he couldn’t get enough.
“Mmmph, that feels so good.” Shutting your eyes and chewing your bottom lip in reaction to the feeling. Meanwhile, your fingers twirled loosely around those curly black tufts of his. But this was merely the start of what he had in store. After a couple more minutes of lapping on those breasts, he’d maintain a firm grip on them as he moved lower to your abdomen and lifted that shirt along the way. He’d leave a few tender kisses around your naval and pelvic area. It was whilst he was removing those shorts, eager to disrobe his beloved…you’d halt him yet again.
“Wait, what’s wrong?” Although he was a bit confused and aroused, Ace would cease to do anything else if you didn’t want to keep going. He couldn’t dream of forcing you to do something that made you uncomfortable and his lust had gotten the best of him. However, there was no need to feel an ounce of shame or regret. Rather, you just had another request…
“…you did say it was your birthday, right?…so why don’t you let me take care of you instead?” With that cheeky little smile on your face, it didn’t take long to come to the realization that you not only wanted to proceed but you wanted to take the reins as well. Which he knew meant that he’d be spoiled in more ways than one…finishing what he’d begun, he’d slide those shorts and panties down your ankles, setting them over to the side and then allow you to swap places.
“Well then…show me what you got, pretty girl.” Ecstastic to reverse the roles, (y/n) would allow him to get comfortable before repeating the same process. Only this time, you’d start with his bottoms first…pulling them and those boxers down with the swiftness until they pooled at his feet. Now eye level with his crotch, you’d curl your tongue around those plump lips as you eyed that blatantly erect cock…standing up at full attention when you unsheathed it. It was so thick; full of girth with prominent veins protruding from the shaft. Darker in hue in certain areas with those swollen, heavy balls you had every intention of emptying. Not to mention the oozing precum seeping from the glowing red tip.
“Like what ya’ see?”
“Very much so…”
Answering as you massaged his chiseled, tattooed thighs. Without any sort of hesitation, you’d descend headfirst between his legs and begin fulfilling those carnal desires he sought. With that mouth agape so widely, you’d take him in one full gulp. Lathering up that skin with saliva whilst that tongue worked the underside of the appendage. Those delicate hands resided on that heavy sack….gently massaging and kneading those fingers into them.
“Oh fuck….yeah, that’s it, babe. Just like that..” grunting and moaning out quietly into the atmosphere. You needed no instruction or encouragement but something about hearing his voice crack under the pressure riled you up even more. Make no mistake, you would’ve loved to feel the sensation of his tongue exploring your folds and lapping on your clit but you both knew this is what really got your pussy wet; sucking him dry until his toes curled. Loud slurping sounds would begin to rise as a result of that sloppy head you were giving him. Those bohemian knotless braids dangling to your back were now in front of your face and he’d quickly move to pull them back out of your way. Ensuring nothing disrupts this pleasure…
“Suck that dick, beautiful….you’re so good at it. You know exactly what to do…” egging you on as he stared in amazement. Or at least as much as he could withstand ... .Those eyes kept closing, along with head falling back onto his shoulders. He couldn’t believe it sometimes. For a woman who conducted herself with such grace and dignity, you got as nasty as a porn star when it came to him! Scooping up those droplets, you’d work them back onto his member. Making certain that your jaws sucked around him just right ... .there wasn’t a single bit of concern or worry whether or not a passerby would spot you guys or if nightfall would inevitably catch you. Quite frankly, the idea of pounding you underneath the starlight was pretty tempting. But it wasn’t only about the sex itself. It was about getting to experience spontaneity and exciting moments with the one he loved.
“Oh my God, your mouth feels incredible. That’s my good girl…open that throat f’r me…” chest heaving and breathing all off kilter from your salacious tactics. You’d halt for a split second, only to allow a giant glob of saliva to pool all over that shaft. That’s when you’d take him all the way down to the hilt with your forehead pressed to his v-line. He felt as if his very soul was going to ascend in that moment! You were truly unreal sometimes…
“Aaaaahhh….shit! Babe—wait…” but there was no stopping you. Almost as if this was no longer about his pleasure but your own. That was all but confirmed when he reached around to your backside that was arched in the air and began to tease your slit. As you proceeded to devour him whole, Ace’s fingers were nestled deep inside of you, working that tight entrance for what was to come. That silky arousal is already gushing on his knuckles.
“Look at how wet you are…you must really be enjoying this, huh?”
Being answered by faint moans and muffled grunts. However, he knew if you didn’t stop soon, his entire load would wind up in your esophagus instead. After a few more moments of teasing; which included slurping on his balls whilst you jerked him off slowly and holding his cock down your throat until you gagged on it and expelled gag spit everywhere.
“You’re so fucking nasty, I love it—c’mere.” Tugging your head up with a gentle grip on that chin and a thumb between your lips, he’d shove his tongue into your mouth once more. Tasting those remnants of himself whilst savoring your flavor as well. Pulling back only to shove those once buried digits in your jaws so you could do the same. With those gorgeous brown doe eyes fixated on him, (y/n) sucked that middle and index finger clean.
“So sexy…I can’t even believe you’re mine sometimes.”
After one more kiss, he’d instruct you to maneuver and shift positions yet again; this time, him lying flat and you facing out towards that waterfall.
“I need you to ride me…I wanna see that ass bouncing while you take my dick.” Speaking to you with such vulgarity and you loved every second. Sex with him was always such a rush and satisfying….even in the laziest, most sensual moments, you reached nirvana every time.
“Mmmm…you’re the boss. Whatever you say.” Looking back at your boyfriend, you’d climb atop his pelvis and align your center with his own. Legs spread and feet planted on each side, you’d prepare to take him. Grabbing that well lubricated cock, you’d rub that head against your clit, biting your lip in response.
“Don’t tease me, sweetheart. I don’t think I can take it right now..”
“That’s a shame, I like messing with you.”
Always circling back to that playful banter that you two enjoyed. He could merely chuckle but best believe he wasn’t kidding around. He needed to feel those warm insides pulsating around him or he was going to explode.
“…but luckily for you, I feel the same way.” Finally sinking down on that shaft as it went between those walls. You’d find yourselves expelling loud moans and curse words simultaneously. Your heads even falling back at the same time.
“Oh fuck…so tight..”
“Fuck, you’re so big…”
And there wasn’t a single second to spare. You started moving, allowing him to get deeper inside. That fat mushroom tip and girth shaft splitting you damn near in half and yet, you’d take every inch. Meanwhile, your man enjoyed the very aesthetically pleasing view of rushing water and the ripple of that plump, juicy ass bouncing off of him. Those stretch marks littered all around them was the cherry on top. You’d begin slow at first but by the subtle buck of his hips, that wasn’t what he desired.
“There you go…ride me like you mean it. Like I trained you…”
Each time you came down, finding yourself greeted with heavy handed smacks to those cheeks. The wet ‘plop’ noises grew louder in conjunction with each of your moans; joining the other sounds of the wilderness. Like two primal animals, you’d engage in what you were designed to do. Those sticky secretions dripping from your cunt glided down to his abdomen and before long, you were making an absolute mess of him.
“Oh my gosh, your dick feels so good…love the way you make this pussy cream..” that sexy voice causing him to twitch between those soft, pillowy folds. But alas, you weren’t the only one feeling the effects. That tight grip was making it incredibly difficult to focus at the moment. On one hand, he wanted nothing more than to shoot his load into that aching womb but the other half needed to savor this moment.
“That’s all you, babe…you got me this hard. It’s like you just wrap around my shit and don’t wanna go let go—oh fuck, why do you have to be this tight and warm? Gushing all over me like this…”
Those words spill out at the same rate as your juices. It was true, you were about to drive him absolutely mad! Those movements eventually gained traction and that ass went from just bouncing to full blown clapping against him. You’d glance back, flipping those braided tresses over your shoulder to really see his reaction.
“You like when I fuck you, baby? This tight pussy squeezing this big ass fucking dick? You like when I turn into your little slut, huh? Letting you use it wherever and when you want.” seductively cooing and speaking to him with that filthy vocabulary. By now, Ace’s head was so far in the clouds, he couldn’t even think straight. His legs were shaking, his cock throbbing and his entire body riddled with ecstasy. It was no wonder he was downright obsessed with his beloved (y/n)!
“Yes, sweetheart. I fucking love it!…you’re my nasty little bitch and I love you so much. Oh my God….” The words served not as to degrade you but as encouragement and not, did they work. You loved when he complimented you in such a manner!
Howling out like a wolf at the moon, he’d sing your praises and cry out your name to the heavens. He never thought he’d be ridden to the point of damn near tearing up. From that amazing head to this, you were truly one of a kind.
“This is your pussy….it’s all fucking yours.” Each of you teetering on the edge of dominant and submissive at any given time. After being forced to clutch the blanket underneath him and feel his own toes curl, Ace was done being the latter. He needed to really lay claim to what you’d so graciously blessed him with. Forcing you back so that those thighs fileted open, he’d curl his arm over to rub that clit. At this point, it was him now feeding you those deep strokes from underneath as those tits jiggled profusely as a result of being jolted up and down.
“That pussy‘s mine? Is that what you said, pretty girl? Tell me again.”
“Yeah, it’s your fucking pussy, baby!”
With that confirmation, he’d hit that second wind and continue massaging your bud until he felt it at last…
“…then make it come for me. Give me that fucking orgasm, it’s mine too..”
Gritting and sucking his teeth as that deep, sultry voice commanded you. Once he halted, it were as if a spring had uncoiled inside of your body and that spot that had been so well penetrated, released all over his cock. You’d shoot up off of him, squirting profusely as those legs trembled in climatic bliss. Tears fell down your face as well…completely taken over by that wonderful feeling.
“OH GOD! FUCK—“
“That’s my girl…making a mess all over daddy’s dick. ‘M so proud of you.”
But even so, he was still feeling greedy! He needed more. He needed to relieve himself and sate that fiery urge to breed you. Just like any other hot blooded mammal during mating season, he just had to claim you fully. You’d attempt to crawl away from him for a moment of respite, but you were just as quickly snatched back and placed on all fours instead.
“….no, I’m not done with you yet. Arch that back and give me those hands. Hurry up.” Suddenly finding himself in that alpha, domineering mindset yet again. He’d allow you to take control and although it was incredible, he needed to make his mark. Once your arms contorted and bent to reach the center of that spine, he’d grip them firmly with one hand and use the other to tap himself against that slit one last time. Right after, spanking those round cheeks.
“I swear, you’re a literal dream ... .I don’t know how I got so lucky but this is the best birthday present ever…” those fast paved breaths only quickened by his re-entry into that tight orifice. Which caused you to write around on it and moan his name.
“Still sensitive, I see…” so in tune with your body and aware of all your little ticks.
“That’s okay, my love….I’m close too. I just need…to use you a little more, that’s all. I don’t want this moment to end.” Savoring every second as he garnered that quick pace and rhythmic strokes. That sharp v-line and fat backside intersecting with each thrust. His heavy balls made home against your sticky entrance and slapped your clit as well. Meanwhile, his thumb would rest in the twitching cavity of that asshole.
“Yeah, I’m gonna come so deep inside of you…give you every bit of me. It’s what you deserve. It’s what I deserve…to make you mine. To make sure you know who you belong to.”
(Y/N) clutched that soft material that separated those tangled bodies from the ground, balling it up between your fingertips. Hard moans and sharp breaths constantly pour out. You just didn’t know how much more you could handle and when you’d attempt to run from it, he’d wrangle you back in when he’d pull your hair. Grasping you by your scalp and bringing his lips to your right ear.
“ ‘m so sorry for pulling on your hair…but you’ll forgive me, won’t you? Especially if I fill you up, right?” Those eyes completely shut and barely stayed in the front of your head as he drilled that cunt for all it had. Kissing on the side of your face and temple, he’d keep rambling off in that ear, telling you to beg him for that release.
“Ace…please…”
“Please what, baby?”
“…come…nut in—“
“What’s that, pretty girl? Speak up, I can’t hear you..”
Finally, you’d find the strength after damn near tapping out to utter the phrase he’d been patently awaiting.
“Come in me, daddy. Nut in this fucking pussy!…oh God..”
And with that, it was as if he’d been released from that spell. Finally, you’d feel those movements come to a halt and that warm seed spilling into that fertile womb. Ace letting out a loud groan to accompany it.
“Ohhh…fuuuck me! Take it, babe. Take my fucking cum.” Holding you in place as he emptied that load. Once he came to, he’d pull you back to his chest and wrap you up in a final doting, adoring kiss.
“Hey, are you alright? I wasn’t too rough, was I? Please forgive me if I was…” Getting a quick rapid shake of your head in response. He was like a man possessed when he made love to you but his intention was never to cause you harm. That was the least of his concerns though…you were just as equally satisfied as he was. So happy that you’d decided not to make him leave when you were going to.
“Good…because I love you and I never want you to feel anything less. I want all of our experiences to be just as enjoyable for you as they are for me…”
“Aw baby…of course they are. As long as I’m with you, I’m the happiest girl in the world. Besides, I want your weekend to be special. You pour so much into everyone else, including me. If anyone deserves everything they want and more for their birthday, it’s you. I love you, and I hope I can make that possible.”
In that very tender moment, the last ray of sunlight fell cast over your face and he’d take in that special sight. Knowing it was an omen for all the good things to come in this life and relationship. Even in the bleakest of hours, you’d always be his sunshine.
“Trust me, this is the greatest gift I could ever ask for. I’ve literally never done anything like this. I’m just thankful you’re always up for my crazy antics.” Feeling partially guilty for desecrating his sacred grounds with such debaucherous acts but never feeling so alive after getting to experience sex outdoors for the first time. This was only the beginning of you guys’ adventures but for now, you really had to get up and hightail it back to the camp site before you lost your way. Luckily, you came prepared with flashlights and fire sticks to illuminate your path. However, you couldn’t help but to tease him once more.
“Damn…if I would’ve known that, I wouldn’t have gotten you alllll of those nice, expensive gifts.” So blatantly toying with him. His eyes would stretch wide in bewilderment at what you could’ve possibly purchased for him. He wasn’t used to be given things like that so he was getting used to accepting things from others.
“Wait…you got me gifts? For real?” Inquiring as you both hastily worked to get re-dressed.
“Maaaaybe I did. Maybe I got you the one thing you’ve been wanting plus a lot of other things. Maybe it’s waiting back at the van with some of your favorite food I made before we left.” Instantaneously lighting up like a little kid on Christmas. You knew he said this was all he wanted but honestly, you couldn’t help yourself; taken by the overwhelming urge to spoil him endlessly. The main thing atop his wishlist was a brand new camera to capture these scenic views as photography was an avid hobby of his and needless to say, you spared no expense on it.
Once his pants and shirt were on, he’d strap that backpack to his shoulders and wait with baited breath for you to follow him.
“…Or maybe I was just lying, who knows really?” Bursting into a loud cackle. He could always sense when you were telling a bold face lie and trolling the hell out of him. Normally, he’d humor you and play along but even someone who never asked for anything or even felt they deserved it still longed for it and as long as you were a part of his life, you were going to make certain that the king's treatment was all he received. Doing anything to see that smile. Before you could utter another ridiculous statement, he’d hoist you over his shoulders and proceed to carry you back.
“Come on. Damned brat..I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.” making you cackle in pure amusement yet again. And him break into a smirk as well.
“What? Aren’t I funny? I think I’m hilarious, actually.”
To some, celebrations looked like balloons, grandiose setups and giant cakes. But for Ace, all he needed on his special day and every other one was this crazy, chaotic and loving bond he’d gotten so lucky to share with you!
Paring: Rafayel x Shy Black Female Reader (No specific skin tone mentioned).
Summary: Who knew reading a smutty book to your boyfriend could lead to you losing your virginity.
Context: Virgin!Rafayel, Virgin!Reader, unprotected sex, fingering, penetration, oral sex, squirting, soft dom Rafayel, kinda submissive reader, soft sex, Reader described as a bit chubby/curvey with stretch marks, Reader has box braids in her hair and an Afro.
A/N: This was in my drafts for awhile!
Word Count: 4.8k (most of it is the smut part lol).
Fresh sea water dripped from your scalp onto the lower section of your back, releasing a calming chill that relaxed the tense muscles of your shoulders.
The day was still fresh, sun dripping through the thin white drooped curtains of Rafayel’s Studio with a pleasant evening glow. The two of you had just returned from the beach, a public one far too long a drive from his house for your liking.
You were tired and spent, all you wanted to do after basking under the warmth of the sun was rest, maybe finish the romance book you got from the Linkon City Mall tonight.
You were already aligned with the clock, book
In hand as you skimmed through the pages of a love story build up while Rafayel carefully detangled and rid you of your braids from behind.
The echo of the beads in your hair ricocheted in the semi quiet studio along with the soothing sound of Rafayel humming a light melody in your ear and the rushing ocean waves clashing against rocks outside.
“I’m almost done, I just have a few more rows left to detangle. How’s the book?” You hum, adjusting your gaze from the scrambled words in front of you to a set of playful iridescent eyes gleaming over your shoulder. “It’s ok, it’s just a bit mediocre.” “Oh really, how so?”
You cough into your hand, clearing your throat as you flick back a few pages to a section you left moments before, you put on your best to put on a serious narrative , “She wasn’t like anything Edward had seen, she was mysterious, tall and beautiful, and the nail on the coffin, is she wasn’t interested in him in the slightest.” Rafayel leans into the wet texture of your scalp, eyes following along with the words from your mouth to the words on the page as you recite countless corny phrases that make the both of you cringe into one another.
“Wait–“ he sits up again, starting to detangle a section he was working on once again “don’t stop reading, I like stupid books like this. Besides, it’ll keep me entertained.”
You shoot him an unserious glare, licking your lip before flipping to the next page. “Is my company not entertaining enough for you?” He raises a hand in mock defense, the other gliding through your hair with a rat tail comb. “C’mon, cutie, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”
He smiles at you, and you can’t help but give a small one back in return. You continue reading, filling the set silence with the melodic sound of your voice. Rafayel’s nose would grow ten inches if he said he asked you to read out loud from pure interest in the literature alone. Your voice challenged the greatest melodies that grazed the Earth in his opinion. It was a blessing to hear how words rolled sweetly off your tongue.
It soothed him unlike any medicine the world had to offer.
The two of you leaned into one another as you continued to read, neither of you knew what was next, it was honestly hilarious to you how Rafayel’s face scrunched up in disgust at all the male leads lines. It was just what you needed after a long day.
—
Time was wearing thin, the fresh blues of the evening skies that shined through the window were now a hazy dark orange that basked the two of you in a beautiful tangerine. Rafayel was on the last section of your hair, and you were on the near end of this…”interesting” book. You shift the crinkled page away to reveal the last chapter, the main leads had already got together at this point, kissing all the way up in an elevator to the male lead's high class suite. You had to catch yourself quite a few times, some words making the corner of your ears and cheeks warm in embarrassment from how lewd the details were. The author may have made the overall story cliche, but damn did she know how to write a good sex scene.
You tried to stop, close the book, but Rafayel urged you to continue, rubbing your shoulder with one of his free hands. “Are you gonna finish the book, cutie? Or should I take your place?”
Despite his protest, Rafayel didn’t say a single word as you read. He let you read up until the kiss scene, he let you read up until Edward had Alica sprawled out on his silken sheets, he let you read as you described how the bedroom was practically torn apart as the two clawed at each other.
He let you read all of it, he’d be a dirty liar to say hearing your honeyed voice read such a provocative story didn’t create a large bulge in his swim trunks.
Well, it’s not like he’d have to say much at all if you looked hard enough.
“Okay—I think that’s enough for today.” You shut the book closed in a single motion as you feel the last braid in your hair unravel into its natural texture. You were beyond embarrassed reading such a thing in front of your boyfriend, but you don’t know why you didn’t have the strength to stop.
The smell between your legs lingered with arousal, your puffy clit pulsing lightly against the thick fabric of your swimsuit. A normal glance between your thighs could confuse your puddled slick as ocean water, but Rafayel wasn’t normal, he could smell the need oozing from your very core like it was a perfume sprayed into the air of his studio.
And damn did it turn him on.
“You’re done, right? I’m gonna take a shower.” You shuffle the book behind your back, trying to hide the cause of the shame that came from your mouth moments earlier. You lean up to stand, wanting to distance yourself as much as possible from the silence. It felt too awkward now.
As you stand up to leave a soft tug pulls you back to Earth. You were seated snug on Rafayel’s lap, your heaving chest pressed flush against his own rapid one. His cheeks were pink, ears flushed out and warm to the touch. You shifted, and you could feel the emptiness between the two of you connect with his bulge. He felt huge, and the way he gripped your plush body to his made your clothed cunt drag deliciously across the semi hard surface.
“Don’t—“ he let go of your wrist, grabbing the small of your back to pull you in closer, like he wasn’t satisfied with the distance enough. “You read that kind of stuff all the time?” He was comfortably uncomfortably close, his nose brushing against yours as his breath fanned across your already warm skin. You shake your head timidly as your eyes trail down to the floor to avoid the intensity of his gaze. You lick your dried lip, trying to avert your attention on a small pencil near his art desk.
“It’s not like I got that on purpose. I just picked up a random book.”
He kissed your temple, his lips felt like lava against your already burning skin, the fact the two of you were panting softly onto one another didn’t help either. He brushed his hand over your damp hair, pulling you deeper into him as he possibly could as he leaned his head into the crook of your neck, sniffing your aroma like it was an aphrodisiac. “You’re soaking, I can smell it all over you, baby..did you like the story that much?” His voice was unbearably gentle, so honeyed and light against your skin. He wasn’t judging you, not at all, his tone was exasperated, it didn’t take much from you to make him feel like mush.
Your eyes flutter open in shock, embarrassment? You couldn’t tell. Was there more about his body that you didn’t know about? What did he mean he could “smell you?” Did Lemurians really have senses that high?
“Did you like the type of things he did to her?” He takes your palm again, tracing the inner skin along your veins with the dull tip of his nail. “You want me to do that to you, don’t you.” It was more a statement than a question, he didn’t need an answer when you were already so worked up against him, already dripping down your inner thighs like a sweet soda for him to slurp whole.
“C’mon, pretty girl. Answer me.”
You swallow the sharp lump in your throat, seating yourself back to gaze into the pussy drunk expression on your boyfriend’s face. He rubs your thigh, urging you to tell him the truth you both already know. You nod your head, hands resting on his chest as you feel his estranged heartbeat pulse against your palm.
“I’ve thought about rough kinks like that, yeah. But I never really acted on it since we never had sex before.”
It was true, you both had been together for a good while, each time you thought you were ready to muster up the courage and ask him about it you’d chicken out. You’ve never had sex before, what if you were bad? What if you didn’t feel or taste good? What if he was disgusted with the stretch marks on your body? Endless possibilities flooded your head once again, making you scrunch your nose in self doubt. The gesture doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend though, you come back to reality as his other hand slides to your cheek, focusing your attention to him alone.
“What’s on your mind, talk to me”
His thumb strokes the fat of your cheek, making all your worries temporarily disappear within a blink. You bite your lip, chewing the soft flesh nervously before you speak. “I’m a virgin, I never really thought I’d be any good in bed” his eyes soften the more you speak, thumb circling into your skin as he urges you to continue “I’m also—“ you hesitate “I’m also a bit nervous about you seeing my stretch marks. Scared you’ll think they’re ugly.”
Rafayel grabs your hand, bringing it to his soft lips as he gives it a gentle peck. “Baby, I don’t care that you’re a virgin. I am too, no one is going to be perfect on their first go.”
“And I especially don’t care if you have stretch marks..think you’re so beautiful.”
His reassurance eases your soul, you lean into his touch, nestling deep into his palm as he continues pressing gentle kisses over your knuckles. “My only priority is to make sure you feel good. Always has been.”
“I wanna make you feel good too, Rafayel..”
“Then let’s make each other feel good. Okay, baby?”
He lets out a sharp gasp at your words, grappling his gentle hands across the plush of your thighs, lightly shifting you so you’d grind into the hard bulge seated in his trunks. You breathe out, mouth catching nothing but air until he locks his lips to your own, drowning your senses onto his tongue.
Small strands of hair clung to both of your faces, you were both still damp from the beach but neither of you seemed to care. The only thing that mattered in this moment was each other. Rafayel moved his hands from your hips to your shoulders, tugging at your swimsuit straps “can I? You tell me to stop, and I’m seated. I won’t go further if you don’t—“
“I want you too, Raf, please?” A quiet plea left your lips, urging him to pull the straps down just above your stomach, stopping when he reached your exposed chest. He cupped the sides of your breasts, causing an involuntary whimper to fall from your plump lips. His thin fingers traced over your pebbled nipples, now completely hard and sensitive due to the chilled air in the studio. “You like that?”
You shiver under him, jerking your hips to him lightly for more “you do..”
Rafayel’s warm lips parted, sinking onto your breast as his tongue circled around your nipple, appreciating your rich flavor with his mouth while his free hand tended to your other neglected bud. He switched his menstruation’s, coming up for air before kissing along your chest up to your warm face.
“I’ll take you somewhere more comfortable. Wanna make sure you feel nice.” You clung to Rafayel’s wide shoulders, nails piercing into his back as he lifted you up into his arms into his dim chilled bedroom. It was still sunset, patches of orange flushed over his heated skin. The clock ticked closer to 7:00 P.M, you both had been making out that couch for a good hour.
“You look so pretty, I can’t wait to be inside you..”
he whispered soft promises into your throat, lowering you onto the satin yellow bedsheets on his giant circular bed. “Smell so sweet..”
he lowered the stringy sleeves of your swimsuit past your upper stomach, but you reached a hand out to stop him.
“What’s wrong, cutie?”
You know he said that he wouldn’t care about the shape or stretches carved into your body, but the nauseous feeling still made its way from your guts into your head, making you feel queasy at the thought of him seeing that part of you.
“Do you want me to stop?”
You rapidly shake your head, trying to collect your thoughts with shallow breaths. “No- no. I just–“ you press a hand to your chest “I’m just scared.”
Rafayel’s lips morph into a grim frown. He’d wanted your first time to be special for you, comfortable and sweet. Just seeing you degrade yourself made his chest hurt in ways he didn’t know it could. “What can I do to ease your nerves?” He lifted your hand, kissing his way down your palm to calm you down.
“I don’t know, I’m just being silly..”
“Don’t talk like that.”
You quickly retract your tongue after his stern reaction, melting into the crowd of pillows on his bed to try and hide away your shame. “I’m sorry for making all of this difficult..”
“You’re not, I’m here for you.” Rafayel’s demeanor instantly softened at your skittish state, eyes filled with a sense of guilt from his strong emotions earlier. He leans forward, whispering into the shell of your ear to ease you “I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do, but I want you to know that there’s not a thing wrong with your body.”
“I don’t think I can even worship it enough in one night, hell, even for an eternity.”
“I just want to make you feel cared for, and if you’ll let me show you..you’ll see how much you affect me. It doesn’t take much.” It never does.
You swallow a thick layer of spit down your throat, struggling to find the right words to respond, so you give a simple nod of your head, laying back onto the chilled bedsheets with your gaze fixed on the ceiling to distract yourself.
—
Your swimsuit wasn’t even fully gone yet and your body was covered in sore bites from your relentless lover. The bottom of the swimsuit hung over your sex, dangling over your barely visible pussy. Each patch of exposed skin exposed to the thin air would be replaced by Rafayel’s mouth as he worshiped every curve of your body with light kisses and gentle bites that lightly stung your skin.
The stretch marks and larger areas of your body were met with a gentleness, Rafayel traces all your scars, with light kisses of his tongue, memorizing the pattern of your skin like a puzzle. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”
The scent between your thighs was a damn drug. Inch by inch Rafayel roamed, kissing your whole body until he was met with the last tug that would let out the most fragrant smell that ever blessed his soul.
“Look at me”
You peek your eyes down from the ceiling to shyly meet his gaze, your lip trembling beneath your teeth from the bite marks he left on your body. “There you go, don’t look away.”
A strangled moan erupted rom Rafayel’s perked lips as he took off what was left of your swimsuit, his nose burying into your thigh as he nuzzled his cheek deep into the softness of your skin. You felt so soft..smelt so good, it was hard to even focus on anything other than your honeyed arousal spilling from your warm cunt to your thighs.
He licked up the curve of your inner thigh, scooping up your essence on his tongue with a low groan of approval. You close your thighs tightly together “Rafayel— don’t smell me, it’s embarrassing!”
“Embarrassing?” His hand slips between your legs, pulling them open with little to no effort. His voice is an octave low, breath rapid and hushed, he looked too far gone. “Don’t be embarrassed..I’ll make you feel so good.”
It feels like he could just cum from the taste of you alone, his lips kiss over your quivering pussy, parting your folds with his tongue back and forth in laps, trying to convince your pussy to let out more of its nectar down your slit.
You groan, the newfound feeling foreign to your body, it felt like you had butterflies in your lower stomach. “F-Fuck, Rafayel..”
he grabs your hands, forcing your palms onto his scalp to hold on to. His arms then wrap around your thighs, lifting them up and over his shoulders so he can have better access to you.
“R-Ra—fayel!”
“Mhmm—“
“Fuck— so pretty for me..”
He mumbles into you, lips puckered over your small puffy clit as his tongue traces over the bundle of nerves in slow concentrated strokes.
You’re twitching under him, thighs trying their best to stay still from squeezing his head tight, you’re a wreck.
“Rafayel—! I think I’m gonna—!”
He hums into you, sound vibrating through your core and over your aching clit. He doesn’t stop at your warning, only urging you on as he helps build you up to the top so he can catch you when you fall.
You buck against him once
Twice
A third time, until finally you feel a snap deep within your core. You shake under his strong hold as he helps you through your orgasm, slurping and sucking your clit as you whine out into the silent room. “Let it out, let it all out, baby.”
“Ah—“
“There you go..fall for me”
He catches you, hands rubbing comforting circles on your sore thighs. A line of spit connects you to his mouth, but he pulls away, leaving you to whine from the cold loss.
“Shh, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Gonna stretch you out on my fingers, ok?” His thumb circles firmly on your clit, trying to relax your body enough so there’d be little to no pain when he initially slips one in.
You’ve fingered yourself before, the feeling mediocre from your own hand alone, but you’ve never had something this long and thick inside you—ever. Rafayel had pretty hands, on the outside they were polished, soft and slender, but inside you it was a totally different story. One finger at first was fine, but then he added another, causing you to grit your teeth as a tiny pinch of pain mixed with a concept of pleasure filled your body.
“It hurts..”
Rafayel halted his fingers, rubbing his thumb over your clit once again to help open you up more. “M’sorry, baby. Do you need me to stop?”
You shake your head, furrowing your brows in concentration “no, just–just give me a second to adjust.” You sit there for a good minute, panting out as Rafayel soothingly rubs your clit, helping the subtle pain ebb past. His expression was hungry, concentrated and drunk, just the sight of you struggling to take even a mere two fingers made him breathless.
“You can move..”
He holds the side of your hip for stability before the large digits inside you spread, molding their shape in your spongy walls with ease thanks to the built up slick from your orgasm. You hiss, eyes shutting as you let out a deep sigh.
Rafayel’s thumb never lifts off your clit, rubbing thin circles into it as his thin fingers piston in and out your sex. The room was filled with your soft whimpers and lewd squelching between your thighs. His fingers were messy, inexperienced and curious, trying their best to find that spot that made your pussy drool, and when he finally did find it? You’re already arched up gasping out his name like a prayer.
“That’s your spot? I’ll pay attention to it more then..”
You clung your hand to his arm, eyes shutting tight as he abused the spot that made your legs feel like pure mush. The sound around you clouded your ears in a blur, you could barely make out that he was speaking to you.
“Eyes on me, cutie, wanna see your reaction.”
“Wanna know if I’m doing a good job”
He was doing a great job, no, more than great..you felt like you were drowning in a vast ocean of pleasure, like you were a wave ready to crash into the shore; that was all thanks to his fingers. Your lips part, drool spilling out onto your chin as you whimper his name “so good— doing so good!” You open your eyes, peeking up at his red face. He was ecstatic, drunk on your senses.
It was selfish, really selfish but he was so impatient. It was taking chains of restraint to hold him back from just shoving his cock into you. He couldn’t wait to ruin you, no one else would ever have you, you were his and his alone. He curled his fingers up, the pads sliding deliciously inside your cunt, so squishy and slippery for him. Your thighs were soaked, arousal pooling onto his sheets under your trembling body.
Your vision was hazy, mouth wet with spit as you felt that familiar feeling start to fill your senses, you were close, but something felt off, it felt like you were crashing down. Hard.
“Fuck—Rafayel!?”
“Mh?”
You clawed into the bed, nails grinding into the pillows behind you as Rafayel watched from above. You looked so beautiful like this, and it was all for him. “It feels different —like I’m gonna pee?“
Rafayel only hummed in response, it was true, he was a virgin. Never had sex, who else is there to have sex with if it’s not you? He was inexperienced, yes, but he wasn’t stupid. He’s researched every aspect of sex, every single thing he could try to make you explode. He knew what buttons to push to make you crumble.
“Rafayel- wait, I’m gonna—!”
“Fuck!”
You scream, eyes watery and blurry as you let go, muscles twitching everywhere on your body as you finally let it all out. He helped you through it all, fingers jutting softly inside you as you squirted onto his hand and lower stomach.
“Did I just? Shit, I’m sorry—”
You were still catching your breath, but you lean on your elbows, looking down to see the damage between your thighs. You were soaked, and so was the rest of the bed. Rafayel kisses your forehead, leaning down to nuzzle deeper into you. “It’s fine, I’ll clean it up later.”
“But I..”
“It’s fine. Shh. You did amazing, baby”
He holds you, rubbing your arms and stomach as you breathe out in shock and a deep sense of calm. After a while, you speak “I think I’m ok now, I think I’m ready..” he pulls away just enough to meet your eyes, nose pressed against yours as he hums. “I’ll go slow, if I hurt you, punch me.” His light joke made your eyes crinkle with a smile, lightning, your already tense nerves.
You feel like you’re anticipating a jump scare. He felt so huge from earlier, grinding himself into you even though he was hidden away by a pair of swim trunks. You didn’t want to sound perverted, but you did catch a few glances of how big his bulge was at the beach, He grabs the band of his trunks with both hands, it feels like he’s moving in slow motion to tease you. He tugs, and you can’t help but let out a sound as his hard cock springs free. He’s huge, not an unbearable amount of girth but he’s still really long. How the fuck is he going to fit inside you?
You sit up, analyzing his size as if he were a predator ready to plunge onto his prey. “Something wrong, cutie? Oh shit—“
His knees almost give out as your soft hands wrap around his dick. He’s sensitive, so turned on that pre-cum is already leaking onto your hands. “Cutie—fuck..you don’t have to, princess. I just wanna make you feel good.”
You test out the waters, stroking your firm hands up and down with hesitation. “Am I doing ok?”
“M-mhm” he praises, biting his lip hard enough to leave a mark “go a little faster—that’s it..ahh/-“ your fingers felt one thousand times better than his hand, he was losing himself, cock fluttering in your hand as he whines out from above you. Your hands stutter, trying to form a beat, your efforts seem to be working. Rafayel’s face couldn’t get any pinker than this. He was shaking, he looked starved.
Sticky ropes of cum shot out of Rafayel’s twitching cock, spurting onto your face and hair. He panted harshly, lifting you up and folding you back onto the bed with your legs over his shoulders. “Fuck—can’t wait anymore, gotta be inside you, please, let me.”
You were startled by his show of strength, breath hitching as you gave a quick nod of your head. He was slow, reaching his hand down to stroke his cock before lining it up to your entrance.
“Let me know if it’s too much”
He slid in the head and you both couldn’t help from groaning out. He was so big, again his girth wasn’t insane but he was already poking a good amount into you. It wasn’t comfortable, the pleasure was small behind a sharp stretch. He slid in deeper, bottoming out slowly bottoming out til his tip kissed your cervix.
He gave you some time to adjust, kissing your eyelids and rubbing your thighs to comfort you. He almost looked heartbroken as you whimpered below him in pain.
“Sh, you’re doing so well.”
You hold him, clinging yourself under him for comfort as his cock stretches you open. It wasn’t like anything you’ve ever felt before, your fingers—his fingers couldn’t even compare to this. “Rafayel—!”
“I know..”
“Ah—!”
“Shhh, I know.”
He kisses you, body connecting to yours because even being an inch apart makes him nervous. He wants to feel all of you, not just your inner body. He was obsessed with everything you had to give.
Once you kinda got used to his size you couldn’t help yourself. Your hips roll out, grinding him just perfectly inside you, causing him to let out a soft whimper.
“I’ll ruin you—“ he chokes out like he’s in agony, starved from your touch even though he’s almost balls deep inside of you. He’s leaking everywhere, his cum and a little blood already spurting out of your puffy folds without you even doing anything. You weren’t sure if he was ruining you or vice versa.
He stutters inside you, hips rolling, dragging his cock out of you to the tip before he slams back in. Your pussy squelched, and you would be embarrassed if it weren’t for how good you felt.
“She’s mine—“
“Fuck, you’re all mine…”
He chants into the cold air, singing out your name as he promises you his devotion with each thrust of his hips. You both have tears in your eyes, too drunk from one another to even think
“I’ll never let you go—!”
—
It’s the third time you’ve cum on his cock, but you can’t help yourself from begging for more. If Rafayel had neighbors they’d hear the two of you 5 blocks down by now. You’re screaming his name, pleading for him to fuck you harder, for him to give you what you need. He’s already at a set pace, one that already has your fourth orgasam building, He holds your leg up to get a better angle inside you, fucking his cum deep down into your depths with each thrust. You both yell out, clinging to one another with crazed hands as you both cum.
“Mhh—Fuck!!”
“Rafayel–!”
He collapses onto you, face buried into your soft Afro as he holds onto you for dear life. He’s kissing your hair, face cuddling into you, but he doesn’t pull out. “You did you good..” he praises “do you feel weird? Do you need some water?”
You shake your head, your eyes growing dreary. “I don’t think I can even lift up my hands to drink the water.” He chuckles
“I’d do it for you.”
“I know.”
…
“..Rafayel?”
“Hm?”
“Can we try some stuff from that book tomorrow morning?”
A/N: Guys, I miss Rafayel so much! I need new content asap ༼ ༎ຶ ෴ ༎ຶ༽
S:Living in an apartment with a community Laundromat and running into the guy with the skull mask
Pairing: Simon Riley x F!Black reader
Tw: Fluff/Simon helps you with a creep/swearing at the end
Wc: 3.5k
Notes: Reader has braids; Reader is shorter than Simon; this is proofread but there may still be mistakes🧺🧺🧺
The sacrifice that comes with an apartment you can finance with only a part-time job? A unit with no washer or dryer. Thanks to this, every Saturday, you make your way down the stairs and across your complex to the laundromat. You always go late enough to avoid all the elderly tenants that take forever to load,unload, and fold but early enough that you miss the annoying tenants that play their own music and rush you off the machines.
It's serene this way. All the machines are free, and you can chill at the counters in the small space. You can even play music quietly since you're the only one there. You usually just sit in the chair by the window and read on your phone until your clothes finish. After consecutive, blissful weeks of an empty laundry room, you were sure you found the sweet spot in the day. That was until Simon Riley showed up.
“Y’left these in the wash.” His deep voice that came from beside you that day, startles you. You lift your head up from where you're hunched over, stuffing your clothes in the dryer, and glance up at the huge man towering above you. He looks at you through a ski mask decorated by a painted white skull, two brown, bored eyes looking down at you. You lean to the side to look at the Laundromat door behind him, before looking back like he's an alien visiting from another planet. The guy takes a deep breath at your obviously stunned silence, but you can't help it. Your dad had taught you to be pretty observant growing up, that's why you can't for the life of you fathom how a 6 foot 4 guy wearing all black and a ski mask, managed to walk within 6 feet of you, without you noticing.
“Didn't notice em until I was folding my clothes at home.” He mumbles again, and you finally have the thought to look at what the huge man is holding in his hand. It's a pair of your granny underwear and one of your favorite T-shirts. Your eyes widen when you realize that you haven't seen them since last week. He must have tossed his clothes in the dryer, not noticing your clothes were in there. He's holding them out to you, and while he doesn't look like he's getting annoyed, he sighs again like he is. Quickly, you take the clothes out of his hand.
“Uh- sorry about that.” You mutter so quietly you're not sure he even heard you, but the moment you've got your stuff, he turns to his huge laundry bag and starts to silently load his clothes into the washer a few machines down from you, closer to the door. You watch him for a second longer before quickly stuffing the rest of your clothes in the dryer and hightailing it out of there. You might come back to your clothes messily tossed into one of the dirty community baskets, but there was no way you were heading back there until at least a few hours had passed, and you were sure the guy with the skull mask was gone.
Only a week passed before you ran into the guy with the skull mask again. The moment you stepped into your apartment last time, you hid in a blanket fort all night, worried that he'd bust down your door like some sort of Jason doppelganger. Now you walk in tentatively with your laundry bag and watch him carefully, worried he might be a weirdo timing your interactions; but when he doesn't give you the time of day, just continues with his laundry detergent, it's obvious that he doesn't care what you do. So you mind your business balling your socks and latching your bras, and he minds his, separating his whites from his colors( which is literally just the whites from the grays and blacks).
That's how the two of you begin to share the sweet spot in the laundry room schedule. The guy, whose name you still haven't learned, keeps to himself outside of the small glance he gives you whenever you reach the laundry room first. Whoever gets there first gets the pick of the machines by the window as well as the chair. You noticed after a few weeks that he either brought a book or earbuds and a sketchbook.
There's times when he looks like he's just coming back from the gym, sporting a baseball cap, shorts, and a muscle tank. Including a mask of some kind, too, of course. There was a time he let you borrow a few of his dryer sheets when you'd broken the comfortable silence you both had gotten accustomed to, to quietly ask for some. That turned out to be a mistake when all your clothes ended up smelling like the huge guy that wears all black from the laundry mat. You finally learn his name by accident.
You were folding your clothes beside him, the two of you somehow transitioning from folding across from one another to side by side, when you happen to glance over at his piles. It's a stack of neatly creased boxers next to you, so your first thought is to look away until you see some small letters on the inside of the band.
“Your name is Simon?” You blurt out, completely breaking the unspoken code of silence. You'd realized a while ago that Simon doesn't like to talk much. It was obvious by the way he'd dodge and weave any conversation outside of simply saying ‘good afternoon’. Who has now been revealed as Simon looks over at the piece of fabric you'd seen.
“That's right.” He mumbles quietly and your lips open to say something before you think the better of it and pin them shut. Assuming the conversation is over, you go back to folding your clothes quietly when you hear a throat clear from beside you. When you look over at him, Simon is still folding but it's slower like he's been knocked out of his little rhythm by you.
“ You know my name now. Not goi’n to tell me yours?” he quietly mutters, still not actually looking over at you. Your eyes blink a few times before a laugh tumbles its way out of your throat. Had he been curious about your name, too? And why had he asked like that?
“My name's y/n. Now you know what to call me if you ever want to say hi in the hall.” You answer, poking fun at how unlikely it is for Simon to strike up a conversation first. He just grunts in response but he continues folding like he's satisfied for now.
Meeting with Simon in the laundry room becomes part of your routine. Somehow its the only place you ever get to see him there despite living in the same complex. You never run into him tossing out his trash, having a smoke on his fire escape, or checking his mail like you do the other tenants in the building, he just pops up in the laundry room every week. It's just once a week, and while you don't give it much attention, it's a pleasant month of getting to know your new laundry room partner. That is, until Simon stops showing up.
“Maybe he can't come at that time anymore.” You mumble to yourself one night while folding clothes, the muffled rumble of your last load of clothes getting tossed around the dryer, acting as your background noise. You're washing later than usual today, the sun outside the laundromat window setting faster than you're comfortable with. You usually try to avoid coming here late because that's when a certain crowd always manages to stir up. If it's not drunk friends stumbling in just to make noise, it's shady passers-by with too much time on their hands. You just hope you came early enough to miss the witching hour. Stacking another folded shirt, your mind drifts back to Simon.
It had been months since he'd missed your little routine rendezvous. After the first time you figured he'd just been too busy to wash that week, but when you kept stopping by just to walk into a quiet laundry room, something you used to look forward to, you wondered. Embarrassing as it was, when you ran into your landlord at the mailbox a few weeks later, you asked if a tenant had moved recently, but she told you that no one's left. After that, more time passed, and you just decided to put him out of your mind. You'd been fortunate enough to have made yourself a little friend on your hand-picked laundry day and had enjoyed his company, but people come and go all the time, especially in apartment complexes. It's no big deal. Life moves on. That's what you told yourself, except you've successfully managed to think of Simon at least once a day since he'd gone Mia.
“Let's just finish this load so I can get out of here-!” You huff as you watch the time tick down to a few minutes on the dryer, when the door to the laundry room opens. Instinctively you look up, but quickly shoot your eyes downwards, regret immediately seeping into you. You'd made eye contact with him. The man that trudges in only has a few clothes in his hand. The clothes he has on are mangled and he's got a cigarette hanging lazily from his lips. You stand silently and will the dryer to finish faster. Then you decide to just toss the clothes in your laundry bag and run back to your apartment before he can talk to you. Shutting off the dryer early, you quickly start to stuff the hot clothes into your bag, when goosebumps settle on your skin.
“S’cuse me. You uh- got any quarters?” his lazy voice utters from by the door, unfortunately stationing himself right in front of where you have to leave. You continue to rush and stuff your clothes into your laundry bag, trying to stay as unassuming as possible.
“Oh uh- nah, I only brought enough for one load, sorry.” You call back politely, continuing to avoid looking at him. The last of your clothes packed away, some of them still slightly damp, you quickly stand up.
“Oh ok.” The guy responds, but the slow drawl makes you grimace slightly. You know you've got his attention now. You try to make yourself look as busy as possible, heavily slinging your laundry bag over your shoulder and standing hunched over. The unsettling stranger is still eyeing you when you make a move towards the door, the only thought in your head being to get past him as fast as possible.
“So uh- you gotta boyfriend-?” He starts until he feels a sharp chill race up his spine
“There you are babe.”
The man turns to see a dark figure towering over him. You finally look up, recognizing the voice, and there stands Simon, all massive, menacing muscle. With wide eyes, you watch as the missing man silently walks up to you, taking him in for a second. Simon is in his typical black hoodie, but instead of sweats, he's got on cargo pants, complete with thick, black thigh holsters.
“Woke up and you weren't in bed. Thought I'd come find ya.” Simon mumbles deeply as he wraps a heavy arm around your shoulder and tugs you close. You stutter slightly as your face presses closer, just below his collar bone. You didn't know Simon wears cologne, or maybe it's a body wash. What body wash smells like that though? There's also the faintest, slightest scent of smoke. Simon takes your laundry bag out of your hand and easily slings it over his shoulder.
“Let's get back now, shall we?” Simon says from somewhere above your head, but doesn't move right away. This causes you to glance up at him the best you can, and you see that Simon's eyes are solely focused on the other man in the room. His gaze looks bored but when you glance back at the wanderer, he's sweating and staring back, some sort of silent understanding happening without you. After what needs to be said is said Simon finally guides you to the door with him, his shoulder grazing the other guy's as you both walk past him.
The sound of bubbling water is the only noise in your small apartment as you and Simon sit in silence, you folding your clothes and him sitting in your armchair and looking down at his hands. The situation was so close to the way you and Simon used to share each other's space in the laundry room it was almost nostalgic. You fold one more shirt before the pressure of feeling self-conscious about every move you make in your own damn house, gets to be too much. Simon's already straight posture stiffens up even more when you suddenly shoot up off your couch and take a deep breath.
“The Ramen should be done, I'm just gonna go get it ready. You can sit at the table if you want!” You quickly start, your own voice sounding loud after how quiet it's been before giving him a sweet smile and leaving to hide in the kitchen.
“Couldn't breathe in there.” You sigh quietly the second you're safe behind your kitchen cabinets, arms resting on your counter. With a small whine, you turn to the boiling soup stock on your stove. When you and Simon had finally made it to your door, you were so distracted that you had invited him inside without a second thought. In a way, it was his fault for basically hugging you against his huge pectoral and fumigating you with his unidentified cologne/bodywash mix. After not seeing the guy for two months, a man you've spoken not even 100 words to is now sitting in your living room. Even worse, Simon had hesitated at the door, like he didn't want to come in but only did it to be polite.
“Whyyyy did I invite him in here?” You miserably whimper into your hands when the embarrassment rushes over you again. You glance back over at the masked man you'd practically forced into your apartment, to see Simon typing something on his phone. Probably telling his friends about the weird neighbor he used to do his laundry with.
With a small huff, you turn back and decide to, momentarily, stop letting your shame eat you alive and pour these Ramen noodles before they get too soft. Holding the heavy pot by its handle, you try to tilt the molten soup gently into the two bowls you set on the counter. The pot shakes in your hand, and you gasp when some of the liquid spills out and smacks into the bowl. With a yelp, you quickly jump to pull one of your hands away when a much larger lighter one wraps around yours, the scalding water landing on it instead.
“You're gonna hurt yourself, cooking like tha’.” Simon's deep voice rumbles from behind you. Gently, he guides your two hands to drop the pot back on the stove, then quietly clicks off the burner. You hadn't even noticed you'd left it on. With all potentially hazardous items out of the way, Simon finally releases your hand and steps back to a respectable distance. Still not computing what happened just now. You look over at him with big eyes.
“Uh- like-like what?” you ask quietly and Simon looks at you for a moment, before his eyes drop down.
“You've been tremblin’ since we got back ere’.” He answers and you immediately stop to look at your hands. They vibrate and shake just the tiniest bit as you rotate them. You hadn't even noticed, but Simon did. He noticed when you put your key in the door, then he noticed when you were trying to fold your clothes. The straw that broke the camel's back was the boiling hot water in your possession.
“Oh yeah, I guess I have huh?” You mumble in surprise. Simon's gaze stays on you as you both sit quietly.
“That wanker really spooked you didn't he?” His deep voice finally makes you look up and focus on him. Had he? Sure, you'd been nervous but it wasn't like the guy put his hands on you, or had even gotten too close. You look back at your hands though, and feel tears start to pool on your lash line.
“ I guess so-.” You start, your voice wavering when you feel a heavy hand plop on your head. You freeze, mind running wth a hundred questions, the first one being why something was touching your in- need - of - a - touch up braids.
“What are you doing-?!” You begin to ask, a confused frown etching its way onto your face, but pause awkwardly when Simon leans down and locks eyes with you. Heat seeps onto your cheeks and behind your ears, and you've never been more grateful that it's not visible because Simon is so close you can feel his breath puff against your face. He blinks those blonde lashes of his, and this close, you can see just how long they are.
“He won't bother you again. I promise.” Simon whispers, and you search his eyes for a moment. They were such a rich, chocolatey brown. You've never had a chance to look at them for so long. You hold his gaze a moment longer, then nod in understanding.
“Ok.” You answer back just as quietly, somehow knowing that this man you've only shared a few conversations with, but missed far too much when he'd disappeared, would keep his promise. Simon nods back before his eyes drop, and he stands back up stiffly.
“Alright then.” He says and clears his throat with an awkward pat on your head, one that's pretty gentle for a guy his size. You blink, feeling a smile sneaking up on you when you notice him completely avoiding your eyes now, until you remember how this had started in the first place.
“Oh, your hand!” You gasp before rushing off to grab a towel. Simon just lazily looks down at the spice colored droplets on his scarred hand. It wasn't that big a deal to him. After all, a little boiling water never hurt anybody.
“Yeesh, why didn't you say anything? Are you ok?” You ask as you walk back over, interrupting his illogical thoughts. You quickly take his hand and gently wipe away the seasoning now dried on his pale skin. Simon forgets to answer for a minute, instead watching the way his light hand completely swamps your little, brown ones.
“Only stung a little.” He mutters absentmindedly, eyes still following your hands. It hadn't stung at all, but the soldier didn't really know how to explain that his hands have been through so much, a little boiling water is nothing. Not without spurring on questions he can't answer for you. Simon lets you fret over him for a little longer, comfortable in your soft hands, before speaking up.
“I'm washin’ on Wednesdays again.” He suddenly mentions and breaks the silence. You stop washing his hand and look up at him with those surprised eyes again. The same ones that had amused him when he first approached you at your dryer. You'd shut up whatever rant he had about keeping track of your clothes that day with that one look. When you process what he's trying to tell you, a small smile makes its way to your face. You bite your lip lightly and nod.
“Sounds good. Let's go eat though, the noodles are probably all soft by now.” You move on happily while Simon calmly follows suit. Looks like you've got your little laundry friend back.
***
“That b- Those two- they don't know me. I'll see them again. What do they feed fuckers like that anyway?” A dishevelled man mutters to himself as he walks through the dimly lit hallways of an apartment building. He's angrily going on his way when a smooth, foreign accent echoes in the empty hall.
“Excuse me mate, think we can chat with you for a second?”
The voice asks, and the man turns around in confusion, only to see three large men in the previously empty hall. He could've sworn he was alone just a second ago. There's a really tall one, over six foot, bearded, leaning against one wall. Then there's a shorter one with a Mohawk and intense, blue eyes lounging against the other. The one in the middle, handsome in that pretty kind of way, smiles at him kindly.
“You got a minute? A friend of ours wanted us to have a quick conversation.” The pretty one speaks up again, and suddenly a chill runs over the shabby guy's skin. Just like the one he felt with that man from the laundry room earlier. All three pairs of eyes on him, he had a feeling he was in big trouble.
A/n: Yay, I finally finished this one! The goal was to post a feek each week of February because it's black History month, and I wanna do my part by adding to the number of black reader content on this site, but obviously this one is a few days late. Anyway! I'm going to keep trying, hope you all liked this one. Thanks for reading!🧺🧺🧺